The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1894-10-06
And How, With Great Capital,
He Has Lost.
BEING A HISTORY WITH A MORAL.
Also Giving an Insight Into the Gun.
ming of the Professional
Leg-Puller.

Dan francisco. Naturally, he ia a modest,
retiring sort of man. with leaning to
Sunday-schools and church suppers. His
early training was, fortunately for him, in
the line with his bent, and to this very day
his knee muscles are particularly we'll de-
velOped from repeated genuflectioDs. The
bald spots OIL his head are not really bald
spots at all. They are merely the results
of consuming piety.
The misfortune comes in another way.
Senator Jerry Mahoney is man who
commands the admiration of all for his
prObty. 1t is known far and wide that he.
above all others, has never been q boodler.
His political record shows it plainly. He
started with nothing but pure mind and
an excess of piety. He hasn't done any,
thing since. except in political way, and
yet with all this capital to start in life he
has only been able to accumulate a paltry
hundred thousand or so.
Unprincipled bo0dlers, with nothing to
begin life, with impure minds and with an
destinations lack of pieiy, have done
nearly as well. And they haven't cramps
in their conscences either.
But that even isn't the greatest misfor-
tune of Senator Jerry Mahoney. It's his
popularity that has worked him woe.
Ever since his first term In the Senate of
California there has been popular de-
mand for his return to that august body.
Solid citizens have StOrmed the citadel Of
party managers demanding that the up
right, the noble, the unselfish Mahoney be
placed upon the Repu blican ticket and re-
turned 10 the legislative halls of the State.
Heads Of corporations which had been
terrorized by the introduction of "cinch"
bills by men whose names are unknown
clamored for the return of man free
from sophisticaioD, free from guile,
free from the faint of Doodle. They
clamored for Mahoney. The high and
the low, the rich and the poor. the re-
fined and the ignorant, all-all were unani-
nous for Mahouey. Could man. any man,
ask for more? The unthinking would say
mo-; the thinking would say no." too,
but they would say a man should be con-
tent with less. They know the ironies of
fate. They have heard Of cups being too
full.
Mahoney's cup was too full. He wanted
less. Upright man that he was and il, he
knew that no man was perfect. He knew
that be. be. the outwardly impeceable. was
blislering horror to himself; knew that.
while the greasy coin of a blackmailed
corporation had never reached his pocket,
his mind had often hankered after the oil
of palms. he knew that time and again
he had committed mental larceny, and
over and over again in the tumult of his
own thoughts he had built stately man.
sions and planned pleasant journeys with
the money he might have gained. He
knew all this. and with that keen suscep-
tiblity. that fine feeling which one can
even yet discover meath his eruff exterior
| with powerful microscope. he hated him.
| self. He realized that so much popularity
-adulatioD, it might be called-was not for
one so abased before his own mind as he
Unworthy, he was certain he was, and
| fearful.
OF what was he fearful, some may ask.
He was fearful of his friends. He loved
| the good. the true, the pious. In turn they
loved him and were seeking to place him
| upon pedestal from which height his re-
| falgent goodness might shine for their
profit. their delight. He hated the low,
the wicked. the debauched; but they. with
dog-like fidelity which loves the hand that
yields the lash, loved him madly. They
adored him; they. too. clamored for him.
His fatal goodness, his permeating piety,
had even reached them.
These-these were the followers of whom
the upright Mahoney was fearful. He
knew the fervor with which they went
into any cause they once took up He
knew that they would be the forefront to
battle for him with the bosses. He real.
lied that they wOuld-just imagine the
uns peakable horror of Mahoney-that they
would even use Doodle TO accom- plish their
end.
Doodle and Mahoneyl Mahoney and
Doodle!
Impossible! Unihinkable! Br-r-r-r-rI
what could he do? Nothing. What did
he do? Nothing. 1t was fate -Mizpah in
the Turkish, Wptynnlldd in the Welsh,
Bollygoswash In Chinook, horrible in any
thing. 1t was fate. and the fine linguistic
and pathological sense of Mahoney could
see no help for it. Cold. cruel, deep, dank,
dark fatel
And in the bright lexicon of the youth
of San Francisco there shall henceforward
be such a word as fate and IL will be syn
onymous with:
Doodle and Mahoney! Mahoney aud
Doodle! Perish the thought!
And so it fell out as the pious. the up-
right, the impeccable Mahoney had feared.
On cold. wet day, last Saturday by the
way. Mahoney bowed his head three times
in the direction of the Mecca of politicians
the room of Dan Burns in the Baldwin
and muttering: "Al!ah. lllahah, Bishmil-
lab. this is tough" pious old Turk that he
is, reconciled himself to the inevitable.
In the language of the immortal Jeffer-
son Gemstone James, ''the blow had
came" The impure, the wicked, the un-
considerable. the debased, had accom-
plished their helish purpose. They had
mixed oil and water: they had coupled:
Doodle and Mahoney! Mahoney and
Doodle!
They named him to succeed himself as
Senator-to sit again in the halls where
the '.cinch" bill is good thing and where
the covering lobbyist of a blackmailed
corporation puts the simoleons where they
will do the most good.
The bolt with which Mahonev - the
Titan of probity-was to be DESTROYED
was forged in room at 1923 Taylor street.
Early in the rainy hours Of last Saturday
morning the word had passed ou; to the
impure. the debased and the wicked tho
composed the Twenty-fourth Senatorial
District delegation that they should as
semble to nominate Mahoney. Aud, true
to the cause, unmindi ul of the falling rain
Of heaven. they assembled. They nomi-
atod the upright the i'm mecca hIe IMAM