The Boss, and How He Came to Rule New YorkLewis, Alfred Henry
History
The Boss, and How He Came to Rule New York
Lewis, Alfred Henry
New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Political fiction; Politicians -- Fiction
There might, however, be found one who possessed the courage and the
gratitude, someone whom I had made and who remembered it, to take my
orders. I decided to search for such a man. Likewise (and this was my
plan) I resolved--for I knew better than most folk how the town would be
in my hands again--to make that one mayor when a time should serve.
“Come with me,” said I. “You shall have a berth; and I've nothing now to
do but seek for it.”
There was a somber comicality to the situation which came close
to making me laugh--I, the late dictator, abroad begging a
five-hundred-dollar place!
Twenty men I went to; and if I had been a leper I could not have filled
them with a broader terror. One and all they would do nothing. These
fools thought my downfall permanent; they owed everything to me, but
forgot it on my day of loss. They were of the flock of that Frenchman
who was grateful only for favors to come. Tarred with the Tammany stick
as much as was I, myself, each had turned white in a night, and must
mimic mugwumpery, when now the machine was overborne. Many were those
whom I marked for slaughter that day; and I may tell you that in a later
hour, one and all, I knocked them on the head.
Now in the finish of it, I discovered one of a gallant fidelity, and
who was brave above mugwump threat. He was a judge; and, withal, a man
indomitably honest. But as it is with many bred of the machine, his
instinct was blindly military. Like Old Mike, he regarded politics as
another name for war. To the last, he would execute my orders without
demur.
With this judge, I left my Sicilian to dust tables and chairs for
forty dollars a month. It was the wealth of Dives to the poor broken
sailorman, and he thanked me with tears on his face. In a secret,
lock-fast compartment of my memory I put away the name of that judge. He
should be made first in the town for that one day's work.
My late defeat meant, so far as my private matters were involved,
nothing more serious than a jolt to my self-esteem. Nor hardly that,
since I did not blame myself for the loss of the election. It was the
fortune of battle; and because I had seen it on its way, that shaft of
regret to pierce me was not sharpened of surprise.
My fortunes were rolling fat with at least three millions of dollars,
for I had not held the town a decade to neglect my own good. If it had
been Big Kennedy, now, he would have owned fourfold as much. But I was
lavish of habit; besides being no such soul of business thrift as was my
old captain. Three millions should carry me to the end of the journey,
however, even though I took no more; there would arise no money-worry to
bark at me. The loss of the town might thin the flanks of my sub-leaders
of Tammany, but the famine could not touch me.
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