The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1891-02-08

remember an anecdote concerning his first
speech after he left school as he told it one
day after cabinet meeting at the White
House, and as Colonel Dan Lamont re-
peated it to me. Said Mr.. Villas: at was
on the occasion OF a new railroad coming
into the town, and for some reason or
other | was chosen as the orator of the
day. ! got through, and was most highly
complimented by a backwoodsman of my
acquaintance, who ran to me as I came
down from the platform and, putting a
strong t. on the end of the French words
he used, said: 4 want to shake yer hand,
Billie; I've heerd yer debut, and we've
come out with a big eclat.' And, con-
cluded Mr. Villas, 81 don't believe [ will
ever get greater compliment than that. {"
The absurd stories that gain currency
and are even believed by many people in
Washington are decidedly interesting
Every act of a public man is attributed to
some undetermined motive or personal
pique or feeling. l heard it solemnly
asserted only last that that the
secret OF Don Cameron's going against the
force bill was because he had had trouble
with Senator Aldrich over little game of
draw poker and that such games were the
cause of much internecine warfare in the
Senate. No one would imagine that so
exemplary character as Aldrich had
anything to do with game of cards, and
there Is no doubt that Senator Cameron,
however unfair he may play the game of
politics with his constituents, would not
do otherwise than play fair at cards with
Yankee from Rhode Island.
AS to Senator Cameron's silver specula-
ton and his agent, the honorable David
Littler, l had queer conversation with
this man in New York about the time he
was in the thick of it. l could not under
stand his actions then, but they are more
apparent now. Mr.. Littler is big beefy
man with red face, iron gray hair and
beard, and a general bullying air about
him. He was sitting in the lobby of the
Fifth Avenue hotel where | was stopping
when l saw him and went up to him and
calling him by name babe him ''good
was bunko-steerer and upon my
telling him that | had met him
at Denver when he was on the Pacific rail-
road commission, he gave me his hand
and asked me what / was doing. Ireplied
that [ was corresponding for the news
papers and that | was doing some work
for the New York World. AS / said this
he drew back suddenly and said: don't
like TO talk to newspaper men.
HY GU don't?' replied, "and why don't
you? What have you been doing that
you are afraid to talk to newspaper men ?"
"Oh nothing!" said he, somewhat indig-
nantly, and then changing his tactics
made an evident attempt TO be friendly. /
then went on to ask him a number of
thing for publication, for did not believe
he had anything in him worth publish
ing, but merely as a pastime.
asked what he was doing, and upon his
telling me that he was practising law at
Washington City, / innocently asked:
whether he was making any money at
the law, and as to what kind of law he was
practising" He evidently thought l was
probing too close to silver, and he said:
'Now, / don't want to be interviewed, and
what do your people care whether am
making any money or not?"
"Weli, judge" 1 replied, thoroughly
disguised with the mans egotism, had
emphatically tell you that in my judgment
the readers of the newspapers don't care a
cent about you or what you do. Good
day."
Littler's law practice seems to be that of
the score of other broken-down politicians
who hang about Washington. They get a
taste of public life and imagine themselves
to be great men until the Tidal Wave of
Public Opinion turns them down, and
they wake to find themselves nobodies,
and their bare feet on the pavement. They
have not sense enough to go back home
and try again, but they hang about the
capital, looking for crumbs from the politi-
cal tables and ready to do anything or to
go into anything which promises to keep
them alive. The lobby and the
law are in Washington, to a great
extent, synonymous terms, and / know
of men who are really great lawyers who
ind plenty to do. In the presenting of a
case to a committee of congress an ex-sen-
ator has pull that the ordinary lawyer
could not have, and 1t is said that Roscoe
Conkling at one time got $4,000 fee for
arguing a case for the Appollinaris Water
Company before the secretary of the treas
ury. He often came here to Washington
City to practice before the departments,
and he could command his own terms.
Speaking of shady law practice in Wash
inCton City and how broken-down states
men engage in it recalls remark of the
late Secretary Window in regard to his ac-
ton in keeping away from the capital
when he was not in public life. Said he,
just before he took his place in President
Harrison's cabinet: 81 have never been
back to the Senate chamber since my term
expired. / used to see so many ex-sena-
tors hanging around the chamber inter-
ested in some job, that resolved never TO
be found in their company. A man of
honor can never afford to run suspicious
risks" There was no man at the capital
more careful of his reputation than Secre-
tary Window, and there are few who have
had such an extended public career with
out being charged, justly or unjustly, with
favoritism and fraud in some direction or
other.
Ex-senator Cheney, of New Hampshire,
one of the richest manufacturers of that
state and president of one of its savings
banks, tells me that these banks are in
creasing very rapidly and that the increase
in the amount of their deposits during
1890 was Ss.000.0 600 over that of the year be-
fore. 'These savings of the people" said
Senator Cheney, have doubled during the
past twelve years, and there are now about
10000, 900 deposited in the savings banks
of the state. Most of the banks are mu-
tual affairs and they pay interest on de-
posits of per cent. and upward"
| asked as to New Hampshire's aban-
doned farms, and Senator Cheney replied !:
1.-The best of these deserted farms have
been bought up during the past year. New
Hampshire is becoming a great summer
residence state, and we have an income of
from S50o0,o00 to S7.0oo,0 600 a year from our
summer boarders. The summer season is
quite as important TO US in money-mak-
ing way as II is to the seaside resorts, and
il will not be long until the whole state Is
hlled with the country homes OF city
people. FRANK y. CARPENTER.
THE BOY ON OUR FARM.
The Boy lives on our Farm, he's not
Afeard o horses none,