The Portland daily press., 1892-12-03

| year, as know very well. Inc result
| is they fall behind in their bills with the
| butcher and the baker. The butcher
and the baker and the grocer carry them
along, not wanting to lose their. trade
and expecting them to pay some time.
But here comes this horrid election and
upsets all calculations
| The time has come to restrict credit
and pay up. The family of the seven
teenth auditor is panied to discover that
since election their grocer has changed
| his plan of doing business and really
| must have cash in advance. The ninth
assistant secretary of the exterior de-
| partment is called ON by the real estate
agent and informed politely but firmly
| that the rent must be paid promptly
| hereafter. | have heard it estimated
! that the tradesmen of Washington will
| lose half million dollars in unpaid &C
| counts as result of the election. HUI
| man nature is pretty much the same the
world over, and there is among every
class of people and in every community
| percentage who have the disagreeable
| habit of leaving town without thinking
| Of some of their outstanding obligations.
| Some of the officials who have been
| living pretty high On small salaries are
now retrenching. Retrenchment and
reform is the order of the day with them.
| for they are trying to save up enough
| money to get out Of town with. A good
many of them will leave their pianos,
| their silver plate and their horses and
carriages behind them when they do go.
| | have in mind at this moment one
OFFICIAL good fellow he is, too-who
was hard hit by the election. A month
ago he was riding in fine style in a fine
| carriage The truth is it was not his
own equipage. He rented it by the
month. Renting of 'sprivate" carriages
by the month is quite business in
Washington. A week ago l saw him
walking down town through a driving
rainstorm, most disconsolate official
compared to his former self.
At the stable where I keen my modest
horse and cart l accidental, learned the
sad truth. My official FIJI .nd has not
paid his carriage rent promptly, and the
day after election the owner of the
equipage served notice that unless the
carriage and pair would not henceforth
be honored. So my friend now walks
| or rides in the plebeian street car.
These are only few of the thousand
ways in which the election tragedy has
left its mark upon the good people of
Washington. The people of the capital
are always against d change for these
reasons. But the law of compensation,
which is such great factor in the affairs
of all nature and civilization, applies as
well to officialdom and the city Of fed
eral salaries.
AS a matter of fact, every change of
administration in the national govern
nlent builds up the capital city. A change
of the party in power every fourth year
would in half a-centrlry make this one
of the greatest cities in the country.
This is so because about pne-half of all
the officials who lose their places by
party change don't leave Washington at
all-some don't like to leave because
they have learned to love to city; others
can't get away because railway tickets
and freight carriage cost money. They
find some employment in Washington,
go into some business, or make some
turn that enables them to remain here.
| think could mention by name {.
score of men who were turned out of
office eight or four years ago, and who
have remained in Washington long
enough to thank their lucky stars they
lost their official heads. Since getting
out Of Office they have built up business
for themselves and become infinitely
more independent than they ever were
as lazy pot boilers and department
drones under Uncle Sam.
Of course the election tragedy was
felt at the White House, but perhaps no
more keeniy than in thousands of other
homes in this capital. The best story
have heard about the White House fam
lily and the election-and it is a true
story-has little Benny Mckee as its
hero. The morning after election little
Ben was up early for run in the
grounds before breakfast When he
came in he noticed that something was
wrong. Every one was in the dumps
and he saw that his mammals eyes were
red from weeping.
"What's the matter" he asked. "Ben-
n.y." said his mother, s'the people had an
election yesterday, and We are not to
/ live in the White House any more. Ben
trotted off to find the president. Hisht-
tie heart was heavy, but he tried to
brave it out. Running up to the presi-
dent he exclaimed, in a voice that trem-
bled little:3 Come, grandpa, let's go
get our breakfast quick before the hor-
rid people come and drive us out Of the
White House. We don't want to go
away hungry, do we, grandpa?"
WALTER WELLMAN.