Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-08-06

only thousand a year.
''The pay amt much,' confessed Buck
but there amt nothing to do except vote
according to order. Then there's a great
| deal to be picked up on the stde-the old
man understands that others have got to
| live besides him. Salaries in politics don't
| cut no figure nowadays. anyhow. It's the
! chance the place gives for pick-ups."
| At first fatty refused but Buck pointed
out that 1 was foolish to throw away the
| benefits sure to come through the "od
| you he assured me. Hes got you book
| ed for a quick rise My poverty was so
| pressing that 1 had not the courage to re-
| fuse-the year and a half of ferocious strug-
| gle and the longing to marry Betty Crosby
| had combined to break my spirit | believe
| 1t is Johnson who says the worst feature o.
| genteel poverty is its power to make one
| ridiculous. / don't think so. No. its worst
| feature is its power to make one afraid.
That night 1 told my mother of my i'm
pending "honors." We were in the dark on
| our little front porch. She was SILENT and
| presently / thought 1 heard her suppress
| ing a sigh. You don't like 1t, mother?"
| said l.
| mo, Harvey butt see no light ahead
| in any other direction and | guess one
| should always steer toward what light there
is" She stood behind my, chair; put her
| hands on my shoulders. and rested her chin
| lightly on the top of my head. Besides, L
| can trust you Whatever direction you
| take, you're sure to win in the end"
L IA ~
went to bed L heard some one stirring in
| the house-it seemed to me there was a
voice, too. l rose and went into the hall.
and So softly to my mothers room. Her
door was ajar She was near the window,
kneeling there in the moonlight, praying
| for me.
I had not been long in the legislature be-
| fore l saw that my position was even more
contemplate than l anticipated So con-
temptible. indeed, was it that, had 1 not
been away from home and among those as
basely situated as myself. it would have
been intolerable-a convict infinitely prefers
| the penitentiary to the chain gang Then
too, there was consolation in the fact that
the people my fellow citizens. in their stu
pidity and ignorance about political condi-
tons, did not realize what public Office had
come to mean. AT home they believed what
the machine-controlled newspapers said OF
me-that l was manly, independent
young man." that L was making vigor-
Gus stand for what was honest in public
affairs. that was the honorable and dis
tinguished son of an honorable and distin-
guiShed father" How often L read those
starting in public life! And is 1t not really
amazing that the people believe that they
never say to themselves: But, If he were
actually what he SO loudly processes to be.
how could he have got public Office from
boss and a machine?"
I soon gave up trying to fool myself
into imagining L was the servant of
the people by introducing or speak
ing for petty little popular meas
ures I saw clearly that graft was the
backbone. the whole skeleton of legislative
business, and that its 1eshy cover of pre-
tended public service could be seen only by
the blind. l saw, also, that no one in the
machine of either party had any real power.
The state boss of our party. United States
Senator Dunkirk. was creature and SER
want of corporations. Silliman the state
boss of the opposition party. was the same,
but got less for his services because his
party was hopelessly In the minority and
its machine could be useful only as sort
of supplement and scapegoat.
With the men at the top, Dunkirk AMI
Silliman. mere lackeys. I saw my own
future plainly enough I saw myself
crawling on year after year-crawling one
of two roads. Either I should become a
political scullion, a wretched party hack
despising myself and despised by those who