Patronage, when its control is subject to a popular vote, is a boomerang. The appointment of a citizen in a town arouses the anger of many others who think they are more deserving. I appealed to the farmers with the simple question whether old Westchester should be controlled by federal authority in a purely State matter of their own. The result of the appeal was overwhelming, and when the district convention met, the Custom House did not have a single delegate. The leader of the Custom House crowd came to me and said: "This is a matter of bread-and-butter and living with us. It is nothing to you. These delegates are against us and for you at the convention. Now, we have devised a plan to save our lives. It is that the three delegates elected shall all be friends of yours. You shall apparently be defeated. A resolution will be passed that if either delegate fails to attend or resigns, the other two may fill the vacancy. One of these will resign when the convention meets and you will be substituted in his place. In the meantime we will send out through the Associated Press that you have been defeated." I did not have the heart to see these poor fellows dismissed from their employment, and I assented to the proposition. When we arrived at the convention Governor Cornell, then State chairman, called to order. I arose to make a motion, when he announced: "You, sir, are not a member of this convention." My credentials, however, under the arrangement made in Westchester, convinced him that he was misinformed. The Conkling side selected for their chairman Andrew D. White, and the other side selected me. Upon careful canvass of the votes we had a clear majority. There were several delegations which were controlled by federal office-holders. It is at this point that patronage becomes overwhelmingly effective. Several of those office-holders were shown telegrams from Washington, which meant their removal unless they did as directed by Senator Conkling. When the convention met the next day, the office-holders kept their heads on their shoulders, and my dear and valued old friend, Andrew D. White, was elected chairman of the convention. I asked the leader of the federal crowd from Westchester how he explained my getting into the convention. "Oh," he said, "that was easy. Our people gained so many delegates by offers of patronage and threats of removal that when I told them you had bought my delegates away from me, they believed it without question, and we are all safe in our places in the Custom House." My success was entirely due to the farmers' indignation at federal dictation, and the campaign did not cost me a dollar.