It is my purpose to tell here the full story of Mr. Hitchcock’s attempt to put through this legislation. Before starting, however, there is this to be said: There never has been a minute, since this contention began, considerably more than a year ago, when the publishers of the country have not been willing to submit the disputed question of fact to a proper tribunal, to determine exactly what _it should cost_ the government to transport second-class mail. There never has been a minute when the publishers of the country have not been willing to pay exactly what, under a businesslike administration of the department, it should cost to transport their publications. They do not desire any subsidy from the government, and never have. The publishers have held that the statement of Hitchcock that it costs 9 cents a pound to carry second-class matter is absurd; and they have further held that if the postoffice department were run on proper business principles, instead of being run as a political machine, there would be no deficit. Notwithstanding, Mr. Hitchcock fought the idea of a commission to the last gasp. He spent day after day at the capitol, for three weeks before the session closed, in the corridors, in committee rooms, on the floor of the Senate, working for his plan to increase second-class postage, granting concessions here, putting out explanations there, assuring certain publishers they would not be taxed, writing letters to Senators and Representatives showing how their districts or states would not be affected, utilizing every resource of his department, of his political connections as former chairman of the Republican National Committee, to get support. He had the votes in the Senate, too, if he could have brought the matter to a vote. That was where he failed. A united opposition was organized, an opposition composed of men who think and act for themselves and who were prepared to fight until noon on March 4.