Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  “Tell me, sir; how did you happen to know all this?” he asked.

  “I’ve been looking up Hopkins’s record. I have disliked the man ever since he treated us so shabbily on the night of the meeting.”

  “Never mind him. We’ve done with him.”

  Mr. Watson shifted uneasily in his chair.

  “I wonder if we have?” he said.

  “Why not, sir?”

  “Well, Kenneth, we have to reside at Elmhurst, which is Hopkins’s district. Also I believe Elmhurst to be the most important estate in the district, and you to be the largest taxpayer. This man wishes to go to the State Legislature and make laws for you to obey.”

  “Well?”

  “Well, it’s our duty to watch him. If he isn’t a fit man it’s our duty to prevent him from representing us.”

  The young man nodded somewhat dreamily.

  “Some of these country yokels must represent us,” he observed. “It doesn’t matter much whether it’s Hopkins or someone else.”

  “Except that you, being a prominent man, owe it to the community to protect its interests,” added the lawyer.

  “Do you want me to mix in these petty politics?” asked the boy, irritably.

  “Oh, do as you like, my boy. If you can shirk your duties with a clear conscience, I’ve nothing to say.”

  For a time the young man was silent. Finally he asked:

  “Why isn’t Hopkins a good Representative?”

  “He’s what is called a ‘grafter’; a term signifying that he is willing to vote for any measure that he is paid to vote for, whether it benefits his constituents or not.”

  “Oh. Is he singular in this?”

  “By no means. The ‘grafter’ is all too common in politics.”

  Again the boy fell into a thoughtful mood.

  “Mr. Watson, am I a Democrat or a Republican?”

  The old gentleman laughed outright.

  “Don’t you know, Ken?”

  “No, sir, I haven’t asked myself before.”

  “Then I advise you to be a Republican.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Hopkins is a Democrat, and we may then fight him openly.”

  “What is the difference, sir, between the two parties?”

  “There is no difference of importance. All Americans are loyal citizens, whichever side they adopt in politics. But the two parties are the positive and negative poles that provide the current of electricity for our nation, and keep it going properly. Also they safeguard our interests by watching one another.”

  “What is your preference, sir?”

  “I’ve always been a Republican, whenever I dabbled in politics, which hasn’t been often.”

  “Then I will be a Republican.”

  “Very good.”

  “I am sorry to say that I know nothing about politics and have no convictions on the subject. Who is to oppose the Honorable Erastus on the — on our side?”

  “I don’t know yet. The primaries for the nomination are not to be held for two weeks, and the Republican candidates seem shy about coming forward.”

  “Didn’t you say the district was Republican?”

  “Yes; but since Hopkins defeated them last term they seem to be terrified, and no one likes to offer himself as a possible sacrifice.”

  “That feeling will probably elect Mr. Hopkins,” declared Kenneth, with conviction.

  “Unless — ”

  “Unless what, sir?”

  “Unless we come to the rescue of the Republicans and take a hand in local politics ourselves, my lad.”

  Kenneth pushed back his chair and rose from the table. He walked to the window and stood there whistling for a few moments, and then left the room without a word.

  For a time Mr. Watson sat silently musing.

  “Perhaps I’m inviting trouble,” he murmured; “but I am sure I am doing right. The boy needs a good shaking up and more knowledge of his fellow-men. If I can get Kenneth interested, this plan of mine will be of great benefit to him.”

  Then he, too, left the breakfast table, and wandering into the garden saw Kenneth busy at his easel in a shady corner.

  For a day or so the, subject was not resumed, and then Mr. Watson casually introduced it.

  “A law could be passed in the State Legislature forbidding the display of all advertising signs in public places in this county,” he suggested.

  The boy looked at him eagerly.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “I am positive,” was the answer. “It is merely a question of privilege.”

  “And you think we might hire Hopkins to pass such a law?”

  “No; we couldn’t trust him.”

  “Then what do you propose?”

  “I’ll think it over, my lad, and let you know.”

  Then he walked away, leaving Kenneth much pleased with the idea he had advanced. Indeed, he was so much interested in the suggestion that he himself referred to the subject at the first opportunity.

  “I don’t like to be beaten, sir, once I’ve undertaken to do a thing,” he said. “So if such a law can be passed I’ll do all I can to elect the man who will pass it.”

  “I thought as much,” the old lawyer replied, smiling. “But there’s only one man who could go to the legislature with enough influence to win the votes to carry such a unique measure through.”

  “And who is that, sir?”

  “Kenneth Forbes, the owner of Elmhurst, and the largest taxpayer in the county.”

  “Me, sir?”

  “You’re the man.”

  “A State Representative?”

  “It’s an honorable office. It’s an important office, properly filled. You might not only beautify your district by having those objectionable signs prohibited, but do many other things to better the condition of the farmers. And that isn’t all.”

  “What’s the rest, Mr. Watson?”

  “You owe something to yourself, lad. All your young life you’ve been too self-contained and exclusive in your habits. ‘The noblest study of mankind is man.’ It would broaden you to go into politics for a time, and do much to develop your character and relieve the monotony of your existence.”

  Kenneth frowned.

  “It won’t be easy, you know. It’ll be a fight, and a hard one, for Hopkins won’t give up his job if he can help it.”

  The boy brightened again.

  “I like a good fight,” he said, wistfully. “If I thought — if I believed I could fill the position with credit — I might undertake it.”

  “I’ll answer for that,” retorted the old man, highly pleased with his easy victory. “You win the fight, Ken, and I’ll guarantee you’ll outclass the majority of your fellow Representatives. It’s a good state, too.”

  So the thing was undertaken, and both the young man and the old threw themselves into the contest with energy and determination.

  Mr. Watson rode in his buggy all over their district during the next fortnight, and interviewed the farmers and townsmen of the legislative district. When it became noised about that the young owner of Elmhurst, now barely twenty-one, had determined to enter politics, and asked for the nomination of Representative, no other Republican ventured to oppose him.

  It was understood to mean a hard fight, and even the most sturdy Republican was inclined to fear that the present incumbent of the office would be elected to succeed himself.

  So the primaries were held and Kenneth attended and made a speech, and was warmly applauded. His nomination was a matter of course, and he went home the unanimous choice of his party, because none of the older and more discreet politicians ventured to risk defeat.

  The Hon. Erastus Hopkins well knew this feeling, and smiled in his pompous and most sardonic manner when he learned who was his opponent. Having conquered an old and tried Republican warrior in the last campaign, he had no fears in regard to this mere boy, who could know little of political intrigue.

  “He won’t put up enough of
a fight to make it interesting, I’m afraid,” Mr. Hopkins confided to his cronies.

  But he didn’t intend to take chances, so he began the campaign with his usual vigor.

  It was now the middle of September, and the election was to be early in November.

  CHAPTER V

  PLANNING THE WORK

  The Honorable Erastus Hopkins was thoroughly enjoying his campaign.

  He was not an especially popular man in his district, and he knew it. Physically he was big and stout, with a florid face and small eyes that blinked continually. His head was bald, his hands fat and red and his feet enormous.

  To offset this Mr. Hopkins wore a silk hat and a “Prince Albert” coat morning, noon and night. His gold watch-chain was huge and imposing; he had a big diamond shirt-stud, and upon his puffy fingers several rings. He conveyed, nevertheless, the impression that he was more prosperous than refined, and the farmers and townsmen were as quick to recognize this as was Mr. Watson himself.

  Moreover, the Honorable Erastus was dubbed “close-fisted” by his neighbors. He never spent a penny on anyone but himself, and being unscrupulous in politics he was naturally unscrupulous in smaller things of a business nature. But since he had risen from a stable-boy to his present affluent position he had never been unwise or careless enough to be caught in any crooked action; and while his acquaintances had an indefinite fear of dealing with him they could not accuse him openly.

  It seems strange that such a man should have been chosen to represent a wealthy and important district in the State Legislature, but politics can show many a similar case. In the first place, Mr. Hopkins was aggressive, and knew political methods thoroughly. He had usurped the position of Democratic leader in his community and the others were afraid to antagonize him openly. When he was nominated for Representative he managed to dictate, by shrewd methods, the nomination of Thompson, the store-keeper, on the Republican ticket. Thompson owed Hopkins a large sum of money and Hopkins held a mortgage on the stock. Therefore Thompson dared not make a fight, and although the Republican vote was normally the largest in the district, Hopkins had managed to win enough of them to his side to win.

  He had been a little anxious about his renomination, because he knew that he had not represented his district very satisfactorily; but when Kenneth Forbes received the nomination on the Republican ticket he felt that “all was over but the shouting” and that he would “win in a walk.” Had it been an issue between the personality of the two men, Hopkins would have had little chance of success; but young Forbes had already raised another issue by his anti-sign speech at the school-house, and Hopkins intended to force that issue and so defeat Kenneth because of the ridicule the latter’s position had already brought upon him.

  He began to circulate humorous stories about Kenneth’s antipathy to sign-boards, saying that the young man demanded that the signs be taken off the Zodiac, and that he wouldn’t buy goods of the village grocer because the man had a sign out.

  Mr. Hopkins also printed thousands of large hand-bills reading “The Signs of the Times vs. Aristocratic Snobbery. Vote for the Hon. Erastus Hopkins, the man who believes in advertising.”

  These things had their effect upon all classes of people. There were many good-natured laughs at young Forbes’s expense. All this was soon realized at Elmhurst, and had the effect of plunging the youthful aspirant for political honors into the depths of despair. The campaign was hot against him, but Kenneth made no defense.

  At this juncture, with election but three weeks away, he received a telegram asking him to send the drag and baggage wagon to the noon train. It was signed by John Merrick, and the boy was overjoyed at the prospect of seeing his jolly old friend again. And the girls? Well, some of them surely must be coming, or Uncle John wouldn’t have asked for the drag.

  “Now then, the election can go to blazes,” said Kenneth, cheerfully, to Mr. Watson. “The sight of some friendly faces will be a great relief.”

  The old lawyer sighed. His attempt to “wake up” Kenneth had resulted in failure, mainly because the boy had become discouraged so early in the game. Kenneth felt keenly the humiliating experiences he had passed through, and had sunk back into his old moody reserve.

  But here was a welcome diversion. The visitors, whoever they might prove to be, would afford relief to the situation and brighten the dullness of life at the big house. So both Kenneth and Mr. Watson were with the drag at the station when the noon train drew in.

  And there were Patsy Doyle, Beth DeGraf, and Louise Merrick, a bevy of dainty and sprightly girls, alighting eagerly from the coaches, with Uncle John handing out the grips and packages and giving the checks for the baggage, with business-like celerity, to Thomas the groom.

  “We’ve come for a visit, Ken!” cried Palsy, laughing at his eager delight. “Are you glad to see us, boy? And do you suppose old Martha has our rooms aired?”

  “And it’s a long visit, too,” added Uncle John, “as you’ll believe when you see the pile of baggage. You’d think these minxes were prepared for a tour of the world. Each one of ‘em brought a carload of clothes.”

  But they couldn’t phase Kenneth in that way. His sensitive face had not beamed with so much animation for months.

  The guests were helped into the tall drag and merrily they drove the five miles to Elmhurst, not a word of politics being spoken on the way.

  The girls had not been to the house since Aunt Jane’s death, two years ago, and after a hasty luncheon they began an inspection of every room, as well as the garden, grounds and stables. The horses, cows, pig and chickens were alike inspected, the roses and dahlias visited and admired, and after all this they returned to their rooms with old Martha, the housekeeper, and proceeded to unpack their trunks and get settled. Kenneth had been their guide and companion in these various explorations, but when the girls went to their rooms he wandered into the library where Uncle John and Mr. Watson had been having a quiet talk over their pipes of tobacco. They welcomed the young man, but adroitly turned the topic of conversation, and again the subject of was rejoined.

  It was a merry dinner party that graced the table during dinner that evening, and the boy forgot his troubles and was as jolly and sociable as he had ever been in his life.

  But when they were all assembled in the long living room where they grouped themselves around the fireplace, a sudden change took place in the demeanor of the young ladies. Patsy, the delegated leader, looked gravely at the boy and asked:

  “How goes the campaign, Ken?”

  “Wh — what campaign?” he stammered, to gain time.

  “Why, this election business. Tell us about it,” said Patsy.

  “Some other time, girls,” answered the boy, red and distressed. “It — it wouldn’t interest you a bit.”

  “Why not?” asked Louise, softly.

  “Because it doesn’t interest me,” he replied.

  “Are you so sure of election?” inquired Beth.

  “I’m sure of defeat, if you must know,” he declared, scowling at the recollection of his predicament.

  “You haven’t been cowardly enough to give up?” asked Patricia, boldly.

  “What do you mean by that, Patsy Doyle?” he asked, the scowl deepening.

  “Just what I say, Ken. A brave man doesn’t know when he’s beaten, much less beforehand.”

  He looked at her fixedly.

  “I’m not brave, my dear,” he replied, more gently than they had expected. “The people here don’t understand me, nor I them. I’m laughed at and reviled, a subject for contemptuous jeers, and — and it hurts me. I don’t like to be beaten. I’d fight to the last gasp, if I had any show to win. But these conditions, which I foolishly but honestly brought about myself, have defeated me so far in advance that I have absolutely no hope to redeem myself. That’s all. Don’t speak of it again, girls. Play me that nocturne that I like, Beth.”

  “We’ve got to speak of this, Kenneth, and speak of it often. For we girls have come down
here to electioneer, and for no other reason on earth,” declared Patsy.

  “What! You electioneer?” — a slight smile curled his lips.

  “Exactly. We’re here to brace up and get to work.”

  “And to win,” added Beth, quietly.

  “And to put you in the Legislature where you belong,” declared Louise.

  Kenneth turned to Mr. Merrick.

  “Talk to them, Uncle John,” he begged.

  “I have,” said the little man, smiling, “and they’ve convinced me that they mean business. It’s all up with you, my boy, as a private citizen. You’re as good as elected.”

  Ken’s eyes filled.

  “You’re all very kind, sir,” he said, “as you were bound to be. And — and I appreciate it all — very much. But Mr. Watson will tell you that the case is hopeless, and there’s nothing to be done.”

  “How about it, Watson?” inquired Uncle John, turning to the lawyer.

  “I’ll explain the proposition, sir, so you will all understand it,” he replied, and drew his chair into the circle. “To begin with, Kenneth visited the glen one day, to make a sketch, and found his old table-rock covered with an advertising sign.”

  “How preposterous!” exclaimed Louise.

  “There were three of these huge signs in different parts of the glen, and they ruined its natural beauty. Kenneth managed to buy up the spaces and then he scrubbed away the signs. By that time he had come to detest the unsightly advertisements that confronted him every time he rode out, and he began a war of extermination against them.”

  “Quite right,” said Patsy, nodding energetically.

  “But our friend made little headway because the sympathies of the people were not with him.”

  “Why not, sir?” inquired Beth, while Kenneth sat inwardly groaning at this baring of his terrible experiences.

  “Because through custom they had come to tolerate such things, and could see no harm in them,” replied the lawyer. “They permit their buildings which face the roads to be covered with big advertisements, and the fences are decorated in the same way. In some places a sign-board has been built in their yards or fields, advertising medicines or groceries or tobacco. In other words, our country roads and country homes have become mere advertising mediums to proclaim the goods of more or less unscrupulous manufacturers, and so all their attractiveness is destroyed. Kenneth, being a man of artistic instincts and loving country scenes, resented this invasion of commercialism and tried to fight it.”