The Honorable Peter Stirling and What People Thought of Him Part 66

"For many reasons. First, I have always tried to tell the voters the truth, and never have been afraid to acknowledge I was wrong, when I found I had made a mistake, so people trust what I say. Then, unlike most of the leaders in politics, I am not trying to get myself office or profit, and so the men feel that I am disinterested. Then I try to be friendly with the whole ward, so that if I have to do what they don't like, their personal feeling for me will do what my arguments never could. With these simple, strong-feeling, and unreasoning folk, one can get ten times the influence by a warm handshake and word that one can by a logical argument. We are so used to believing what we read, if it seems reasonable, that it is hard for us to understand that men who spell out editorials with difficulty, and who have not been trained to reason from facts, are not swayed by what to us seems an obvious argument. But, on the contrary, if a man they trust, puts it in plain language to them, they see it at once. I might write a careful editorial, and ask my ward to read it, and unless they knew I wrote it, they probably wouldn't be convinced in the least. But let me go into the saloons, and tell the men just the same thing, and there isn't a man who wouldn't be influenced by it."

"You are so popular in the ward?" asked Leonore.

"I think so, I find kind words and welcome everywhere. But then I have tried very hard to be popular. I have endeavored to make a friend of every man in it with whom one could be friendly, because I wished to be as powerful as possible, so that the men would side with me whenever I put my foot down on something wrong."

"Do you ever tell the ward how they are to vote?"

"I tell them my views. But never how to vote. Once I came very near it, though."

"How was that?"

"I was laid up for eight months by my eyes, part of the time in Paris.

The primary in the meantime had put up a pretty poor man for an office.

A fellow who had been sentenced for murder, but had been pardoned by political influence. When I was able to take a hand, I felt that I could do better by interfering, so I came out for the Republican candidate, who was a really fine fellow. I tried to see and talk to every man in the ward, and on election day I asked a good many men, as a personal favor, to vote for the Republican, and my friends asked others. Even Dennis Moriarty worked and voted for what he calls a 'dirty Republican,'

though he said 'he never thought he'd soil his hands wid one av their ballots.' That is the nearest I ever came to telling them how to vote."

"And did they do as you asked?"

"The only Republican the ward has chosen since 1862 was elected in that year. It was a great surprise to every one--even to myself--for the ward is Democratic by about four thousand majority. But I couldn't do that sort of thing often, for the men wouldn't stand it. In other words, I can only do what I want myself, by doing enough else that the men wish.

That is, the more I can do to please the men, the more they yield their opinions to mine."

"Then the bosses really can't do what they want?"

"No. Or at least not for long. That is a newspaper fallacy. A relic of the old idea that great things are done by one-man power. If you will go over the men who are said to control--the bosses, as they are called--in this city, you will find that they all have worked their way into influence slowly, and have been many years kept in power, though they could be turned out in a single fight. Yet this power is obtained only by the wish of a majority, for the day they lose the consent of a majority of the voters that day their power ends. We are really more dependent than the representatives, for they are elected for a certain time, while our tenure can be ended at any moment. Why am I a power in my ward? Because I am supposed to represent a given number of votes, which are influenced by my opinions. It would be perfectly immaterial to my importance how I influenced those votes, so long as I could control them. But because I can influence them, the other leaders don't dare to antagonize me, and so I can have my way up to a certain point. And because I can control the ward I have made it a great power in city politics."

"How did you do that?"

"By keeping down the factional feeling. You see there are always more men struggling for power or office, than can have it, and so there cannot but be bad blood between the contestants. For instance, when I first became interested in politics, Moriarty and Blunkers were quite as anxious to down each other as to down the Republicans. Now they are sworn friends, made so in this case, by mere personal liking for me.

Some have been quieted in this way. Others by being held in check. Still others by different means. Each man has to be studied and understood, and the particular course taken which seems best in his particular case.

But I succeeded even with some who were pretty bitter antagonists at first, and from being one of the most uncertain wards in the city, the sixth has been known at headquarters for the last five years as 'old reliability' from the big majority it always polls. So at headquarters I am looked up to and consulted. Now do you understand why and what a boss is?"

"Yes, Peter. Except why bosses are bad."

"Don't you see that it depends on what kind of men they are, and what kind of voters are back of them. A good man, with honest votes back of him, is a good boss, and _vice versa_."

"Then I know you are a good boss. It's a great pity that all the bosses can't be good?"

"I have not found them so bad. They are quite as honest, unselfish, and reasonable as the average of mankind. Now and then there is a bad man, as there is likely to be anywhere. But in my whole political career, I have never known a man who could control a thousand votes for five years, who was not a better man, all in all, than the voters whom he influenced. More one cannot expect. The people are not quick, but they find out a knave or a demagogue if you give them time."

"It's the old saying; 'you can fool all of the people, some of the time, and some of the people all of the time, but you can't fool all of the people all of the time,'" laughed a voice.

Peter took his eyes off Leonore's face, where they had been resting restfully, and glanced up. Watts had entered the room.

"Go on," said Watts. "Don't let me interrupt your political disquisitions; I have only come in for a cup of tea."

"Miss D'Alloi and I were merely discussing bosses," said Peter. "Miss D'Alloi, when women get the ballot, as I hope they will, I trust you will be a good boss, for I am sure you will influence a great many votes."

"Oh!" said Leonore, laughing, "I shan't be a boss at all. You'll be my boss, I think, and I'll always vote for you."

Peter thought the day even more glorious than he had before.

CHAPTER XLVI.

THE BETTER ELEMENT.

The evening after this glorious day, Peter came in from his ride, but instead of going at once to his room, he pa.s.sed down a little pa.s.sage, and stood in a doorway.

"Is everything going right, Jenifer?" he queried.

"Yissah!"

"The flowers came from Thorley's?"

"Yissah!"

"And the candies and ices from Maillard?"

"Yissah!"

"And you've _frappe_ the champagne?"

"Yissah?"

"Jenifer, don't put quite so much onion juice as usual in the Queen Isabella dressing. Ladies don't like it as much as men."

"Yissah!"

"And you stood the Burgundy in the sun?"

"Yissah! Wha foh yo' think I doan do as I ginl'y do?"

Jenifer was combining into a stuffing bread crumbs, chopped broiled oysters, onions, and many other mysterious ingredients, and was becoming irritated at such evident doubt of his abilities.

Peter ought to have been satisfied, but he only looked worried. He glanced round the little closet that served as a kitchen, in search of possible sources for slips, but did not see them. All he was able to say was, "That broth smells very nice, Jenifer."

"Yissah. Dar ain't nuffin in dat sup buh a quart a thick cream, and de squeezin's of a hunerd clams, sah. Dat sup will make de angels sorry dey died. Dey'll just tink you'se dreful unkine not to offer dem a secon'

help. Buh doan yo' do it, sah, foh when dey gits to dem prayhens, dey'll be pow'ful glad yo' didn't." To himself, Jenifer remarked: "Who he gwine hab dis day? He neber so anxious befoh, not even when de Presidint an Guv'nor Pohter dey dun dine hyah."

Peter went to his room and, after a due course of clubbing and tubbing, dressed himself with the utmost care. Truth compels the confession that he looked in his gla.s.s for some minutes. Not, however, apparently with much pleasure, for an anxious look came into his face, and he remarked aloud, as he turned away, "I don't look so old, but I once heard Watts say that I should never take a prize for my looks, and he was right. I wonder if she cares for handsome men?"

Peter forgot his worry in the opening of a box in the dining-room and the taking out of the flowers. He placed the bunches at the different places, raising one of the bouquets of violets to his lips, before he laid it down. Then he took the cut flowers, and smilax, and spread them loosely in the centre of the little table, which otherwise had nothing on it, except the furnishings placed at each seat. After that he again kissed a bunch of violets. History doesn't state whether it was the same bunch. Peter must have been very fond of flowers!

"Peter," called a voice.