The 13th District: A Story of a CandidateWhitlock, Brand
General
The 13th District: A Story of a Candidate
Whitlock, Brand
Didactic fiction; Elections -- Fiction; Political campaigns -- Fiction; Political fiction; Social problems -- Fiction
In the flush of his reëlection he had insisted upon his wife's going to
Washington with him for the short session, and without much difficulty
she had induced her father to consent to her departure. He had said he
could get along without her during the three months the session would
last, though the lengthened tone in which he drawled out the names of
the three months, December, January and February, told of a prospect
before him as long and dark as the winter itself. She had silenced the
qualms she had felt by wringing from him half a promise to come on to
Washington himself in February; he might, she insisted, anticipate
the spring that way. And when her duty to her father seemed drawing
her away from her resolution, she dwelt inwardly on her duty to her
husband. She had thought through the long hours of wakeful nights of
her separations from him; she had counted with a gasp of sudden fright
the days into which those separations lengthened, and she had resolved
that nevermore in the future would she let him be so long away without
her. She had buttressed her soul in that regard on certain sage words
of her Mother Garwood, who had shaken her head and said:
"It ain't good, it ain't good, Em'ly, fer young husban's to be away
too much from their wives. It never was intended; no, it never was
intended," she repeated, shaking her head with the satisfaction she
found in her knowledge of the will of God in His personal dealings
with His creatures on this earth, and her words had impressed Emily as
if they were indeed a revelation.
During their first few days in Washington, it rained continually,
and she stayed indoors, save for a trip down the street as far as
the Treasury building, around which she walked in a little spirit of
adventure, taking her eyes from its portico long enough to gaze down
the wide sweep of Pennsylvania Avenue, with the Capitol rising at its
end. And then she hurried back to the baby.
Garwood was too much occupied with what he called duties connected with
the opening of Congress to be much with her. On the day the Congress
convened he took her with him and left her in the gallery to look
down on the assembling members, and she found her keenest interest
in following him about as he moved to his seat, and in watching the
members pause to shake his hand and to smile, and to join their laugh
with his, so that she knew they were congratulating each other upon
reëlection.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account