Produced by Brian Janes, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net THE STATESMEN SNOWBOUND _By_ ROBERT FITZGERALD _Illustrated by Wad-el-Ward_ New York and Washington THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 1909 CONTENTS CHAPTER I. The Funeral II. Senator Bull and Mr. Ridley--Trials and Tribulations of the Newly Fledged Member III. Colonel Manysnifters--An Outing with the "Jewels" IV. An Accident--Dinner V. Senator Bull's Story VI. Representative Holloway Has the Floor VII. Representative Van Rensselaer Unfolds a Strange Tale VIII. Senator Wendell Reads "The Creaking of the Stairs" IX. Senator Hammond's Experience X. Mr. Callahan's Story XI. What Happened to Denmead XII. O'Brien's Narrative XIII. An Uninvited Guest ILLUSTRATIONS Senator Bull and Sammy Ridley President Madison Senator Pennypacker Colonel Ross Addressing the Jury "Stick to the Thirteenth Commandment!" The Kiss Manuel Villasante Papa Villasante "Upon each stair the clear impression of a naked human foot!" "Ah Moy, shrieking, turned and fled!" "Shoved a revolver right up in the teeth of the prosperous one!" "Writes the dramatic criticisms for the moving-picture shows" "Framed in the doorway stood one of the finest examples of the early Gothic I have ever seen" Professor Habib An Uninvited Guest The Statesmen Snowbound I THE FUNERAL Toward the close of the --th Congress I was designated a member of a committee on the part of the House to accompany the remains of the late Senator Thurlow to their last resting-place at the old home in Kentucky. And it might be well to state here that I am quite aware that some of my ungrateful countrymen apply the spiteful term "junket" to a journey of this description. When one considers the sacrifices we Congressmen make in order to serve the nation, it is hard to believe that unthinking persons begrudge us a little pleasure. In many cases we give up all home life, business interests, and personal comfort, and take up our abode in second-rate hotels and boarding-houses. We are continually pestered and annoyed by office-seekers, book-agents, cranks, and reporters; and, alas, we form habits that cling like barnacles, try as hard as we may to shake them off. A taste of public life is fatal to most men, and the desire to feed from the public crib goes right to the bone. It is like a cancer, and it is removed only with grave danger to the afflicted. Everything, therefore, which may lighten our burdens and tend to relieve the situation should be the aim and study of our constituents. But this may be digression.