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 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 
 
TheWashington Publishing Co. 
 
 "'.sri!NGTnN.,D.o. 
 
THE SHOW 
 
 A.rt 
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
 BY 
 
 LOUIS ARTHUR COOLIDGE 
 
 WASHINGTON CORRESPONDENT NEW YCfaK RECORDER 
 
 AND 
 
 JAMES BURTON REYNOLDS 
 
 WASHINGTON CORRESPONDENT BOSTON ADVERTISER 
 
 
 V W AS^ 
 
 Jtiot 
 
 WASHINGTON PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 Washington, D. C. 
 
 1894 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 White House Ways 5 
 
 Around Grover's Council Board . . 18 
 
 Sketched in the Senate 3 2 
 
 Pat and Personal 48 
 
 Angles and Curves 64 
 
 At the Table and at the Bar ... 80 
 
 Nine Black Bundles of Law .... 92 
 
 Smoke Talks 102 
 
 In the Speaker's Eye 118 
 
 Hoke, "Shan," Sterling and "Dan" 134 
 
 Told after Adjournment 148 
 
 Our Midway Plaisance 165 
 
 In the Millionaires' Club 182 
 
 Heard in the Cloak-room 194 
 
 Oratorical Oddities 2I 3 
 
 Snap Shots at Random 229 
 
The Show 
 
 AT 
 
 Washington 
 
OVERTURE. 
 
 Just a word before the curtain rises. The 
 characters are men you all know ; you hear of 
 them, read of them, think of them every day. 
 In this word-comedy they will appear before 
 you as they actually exist ; you will see them 
 as they really look ; can hear them talk and 
 watch them move. If some of their remarks 
 or some of their actions are a surprise, remem- 
 ber that they are playing in the broad glare of 
 that strongest of calciums, the Washington at- 
 mosphere, which brings out every character- 
 istic and reveals some that have been hidden 
 from public view by the make-up brush and 
 the wig. It is a true sketch of Washington 
 life, a picture of the every-day existence of the 
 men who make laws, fame and trouble at the 
 Nation's Capital. The motive of the piece is 
 charity to all and malice towards none. The 
 scenery is taken from life and the stage set- 
 tings are real. 
 
The Show 
 
 AT 
 
 Washington. 
 
 WHITE HOUSE WAYS. 
 
 DURING Mr. Cleveland's former adminis- 
 tration Judge Holman, of Indiana, es- 
 corted to the White House an aged but viva- 
 cious maiden lady of seventy, a niece of John 
 Quincy Adams, who had spent her childhood 
 there. She entered the East Room. 
 
 Looking round in bewilderment, she ex- 
 claimed: "What, is this really the same old 
 5 
 
The Show at Washington. 
 
 room ? Why, there used to stand a meal bar- 
 rel, and in yonder corner were the washtubs, 
 and from there over to there," pointing with 
 her parasol, " a clothes-line was stretched, and 
 in this corner we kept our playthings." 
 
 The old lady was right. To-day the White 
 House is greatly changed for the better from 
 the time when the Presidents of far-away his- 
 tory occupied it. But it has already become 
 too small and too old-fashioned in its construc- 
 tion and arrangement to be a proper home for 
 the President of the United States. 
 
 Mr. Cleveland, during his hours of business, 
 sits at a massive desk constructed of oak tim- 
 ber taken from the ship " Resolute," which 
 was sent to the Arctic regions in 1852 by the 
 English government to search for Sir John 
 Franklin. The desk was presented to the 
 United States by England some dozen years 
 ago for use in the Executive Mansion. 
 
 As Mr. Cleveland sits before this historic 
 desk, busy over his work, he is a very differ- 
 ent man from the Grover Cleveland who en- 
 
White House Ways. 
 
 tered the White House in 1885. At the time 
 he was first inaugurated he was a poor man, 
 and he is now a rich one ; he then despised 
 social life, now he courts it. 
 
 When Mr. Cleveland first came to Washing- 
 ton his tastes were all of the plainest character. 
 He believed in most thorough Jeffersonian sim- 
 plicity. When he came to the city to be in- 
 augurated the second time it was in a palace 
 on wheels, a special train of luxurious private 
 cars. At the time he was made President in 
 1885 he thought nothing about society as such 
 except to shun it. He was strongly averse to 
 entering a drawing-room, was a stranger to 
 dinner parties, and he had looked upon the re- 
 ceptions which he was obliged to give as Gov- 
 ernor of the State of New York as the draw- 
 backs of his official life. He had them carried 
 out in the most perfunctory manner. 
 
 Eight years ago Cleveland's wealth amounted 
 
 perhaps to fifty thousand dollars — no more. 
 
 Now he is a rich man — very rich — taking into 
 
 account the short time which has elapsed, and 
 
 2 
 
The Show at Washington. 
 
 to-day his property, as estimated by the assess- 
 ors' books of New York, will amount to over a 
 quarter of a million. 
 
 Up to within a couple of years he has lived 
 in no luxurious way, but about two years ago 
 he began an entirely new course of existence. 
 
 Mr. Cleveland has three great friends ; and 
 a queer trio they are. The friends are E. C. 
 Benedict, of New York, the banker and broker ; 
 Joe Jefferson, the actor ; and Richard Watson 
 Gilder, the poet. Mr. Benedict is a Yankee, 
 whose success has been made outside of Yan- 
 keeland, and is represented entirely by dollars 
 and cents. There is a strong tie between 
 Cleveland and Benedict from the fact that each 
 has achieved the ambition of his boyhood. 
 
 When Grover Cleveland was a fat little boy 
 at Fayetteville he wrote an essay in school one 
 day, and pointed out the fact that George Wash- 
 ington and Thomas Jefferson had both, by 
 improving their time, become Presidents of the 
 United States. Evidently his ambition lay in 
 the same direction, and he has succeeded. 
 
 Mr. Benedict as a boy was very fond of boats. 
 
White, House Ways. 9 
 
 He longed to become a millionaire and own a 
 big sail boat. He, too, has succeeded. 
 
 Mr. Benedict first became interested in 
 Grover Cleveland's personality by reading his 
 speeches, and gradually went from the Repub- 
 lican party over to the Democratic. Cleveland 
 and Benedict became acquainted early in the 
 period of four years which succeeded the in- 
 auguration of Harrison. Mr. Cleveland was 
 at that time very fond of Joe Jefferson ; Mr. 
 Benedict's great friend was Edwin Booth; and 
 Benedict and Cleveland were brought together 
 by these two grand old men of the American 
 stage. Benedict used to take Booth in his 
 yacht, and Cleveland used to fish in Buzzard's 
 Bay, overlooked by Joe Jefferson's house. 
 
 The Benedict-Cleveland intimacy grew. Mr. 
 Benedict took the ex-President off on his yacht. 
 In fact, he transformed that vessel into a ferry 
 boat to take his friend wherever he wanted to 
 go- 
 
 The Gilders lived at Marion, Mass., when 
 Mr. and Mrs. Cleveland were three, and their 
 
The Show at Washington. 
 
 friendship started at that time. It has been 
 said that Mr. Gilder first loved Cleveland be- 
 cause he thought Cleveland would make him 
 Minister to Spain, and because he thought it 
 would be appropriate for him to go to Spain as 
 Washington Irving had done. But whatever 
 was the cause, each month saw the two men 
 better friends and more constant companions. 
 
 President Cleveland has never been able to 
 make use of many of the appliances of modern 
 civilization in order to lessen the drudgery of 
 his daily toil. Everything that he accomplishes 
 he has to work out laboriously in his own way. 
 He has never acquired the knack of getting 
 other people to do his work for him, and he 
 does not depend upon his subordinates even in 
 the most insignificant details. 
 
 He absorbs nothing and takes nothing on 
 trust. It is more difficult for him to dictate a 
 letter than it is to write it out with his own 
 hand. There are three stenographers in the 
 White House, but he rarely makes use of any of 
 them. Even when it comes to the mechanical 
 process of putting his messages into shape he 
 
White House Ways. n 
 
 neglects to call any of his amanuenses to his 
 assistance, but bends laboriously over his writing 
 desk night after night until the documents are 
 completed, and then turns them over to the 
 copyists to make legible duplicates for trans- 
 mission to Congress. 
 
 President Harrison dictated almost all the 
 personal letters to which he attached his signa- 
 ture, and he also dictated his messages after 
 jotting down the rough notes. 
 
 This inability of Mr. Cleveland to delegate 
 details to others is perhaps one of the reasons 
 for his seclusion from the public. 
 
 The President never walks abroad. Not 
 since he was inaugurated for the second time 
 has he been seen upon the streets of Washing- 
 ton. President Harrison was accustomed to 
 take an almost daily walk, and his tightly- 
 buttoned figure was a familiar sight to the resi- 
 dents of the city. 
 
 But Mr. Cleveland does not even go to 
 church. The public is never informed of his 
 contemplated movements, and his departures 
 from the White House are so timed as to be 
 
12 The Show at Washington. 
 
 unobserved by any except the regular force of 
 domestics and policemen. 
 
 Mr. Cleveland's multitudinous and multifa- 
 rious duties of state so engross his daily 
 moments that he cannot devote much time 
 to his personal attire. The executive sleeves 
 may be worn glossy and the braid of his his- 
 toric Prince Albert become frayed without ex- 
 citing his attention. 
 
 Mrs. Cleveland, however, supervises the 
 President's wardrobe very carefully, and when 
 she considers it necessary that new habili- 
 ments should garb the President's form she 
 quietly informs him that he should be mea- 
 sured for them. 
 
 So in spite of the great stress of public 
 affairs burdening the executive mind a Wash- 
 ington tailor slips into the White House every 
 little while long enough to be closeted with the 
 President on this momentous question. 
 
 Mrs. Cleveland has a fad. She is an enthu- 
 siastic amateur photographer, and she has a 
 remarkably fine collection of photographs 
 
White House Ways. 13 
 
 which she has taken herself. She took up the 
 art and the kodak simultaneously during her 
 early days at the White House, and many of 
 her most interesting views were taken in the 
 Executive Mansion. Since that time she has 
 become much more proficient. She now has 
 a pretentious camera, and is constantly adding 
 to her photographic outfit. 
 
 She has a large collection of views taken at 
 Buzzard's Bay and along the Massachusetts 
 coast, and many New York views and bits of 
 country and mountain scenery. 
 
 Mr. Cleveland's outfit of carriages is much 
 more pretentious than was that of any of his 
 predecessors. There are five of them, each a 
 perfect specimen of the builder's art, constructed 
 in the latest style. There is a black landau, 
 with green trimmings, for which #2000 was 
 paid ; a brougham, worth $1500 ; a stylish vic- 
 toria, in which the President and Mrs. Cleve- 
 land drive on bright days ; Mrs. Cleveland's 
 phaeton, which was made to order, with a 
 coachman's rumble behind, at a cost of #1000 ; 
 
14 The Show at Washington. 
 
 and a surrey, which is the vehicle most used 
 by the President himself. 
 
 The White House stable contains four large 
 bays, two of which are for the use of Mr. Cleve- 
 land and two expressly for Mrs. Cleveland. 
 They are all handsome animals, and were 
 bought early in the present administration. 
 Don Dickinson is entitled to the credit for 
 selecting them. 
 
 The President writes his messages in piece- 
 meal, using a pad and a pen. He takes up 
 the different subjects one by one, and at last 
 fits the bits into the mosaic which constitutes 
 the document as prepared for the Government 
 printer. He is a remarkably ready penman. 
 His hand is small and cramped, but he writes 
 rapidly and he revises little. He has a good 
 command of language, and he likes out-of-the- 
 way expressions. 
 
 The White House mail contains every day 
 between seventy- five and one hundred letters 
 addressed to Mrs. Cleveland. Her correspond- 
 ence is as burdensome as is that of the most 
 
White House Ways. 15 
 
 energetic business woman in the United States, 
 and a great deal more extensive than that of 
 the average business man. 
 
 With comparatively few exceptions the effu- 
 sions come from people in whom she can have 
 no. earthly interest. Most of them are written 
 by women. The feminine mind seems to re- 
 coil from inditing correspondence to the Presi- 
 dent in person. 
 
 The daily mails are full of pathos, as well as 
 humor. Want, misery and beggary find their 
 way into the White House with heart-touching 
 appeals. Pleas for money, for advice and even 
 for clothing are received there almost daily. 
 They seldom reach the eyes of the amiable 
 woman for whom they are intended. It would 
 be too great a burden for her and too severe a 
 strain upon her sympathies. 
 
 Mr. Cleveland never wears gloves. At least, 
 nobody has ever been able to see them on his 
 hands. He has worn no gloves at church the 
 few times he has been there since his inaugura- 
 tion, and when he is seen riding he wears 
 none, Even on his inauguration day, which 
 
The Show at Washington. 
 
 was bitterly cold, he was not only bare- 
 headed, but bare-handed, as he faced the 
 northwest wind and flying snow to consecrate 
 himself again to the American people. 
 
 When Miss Ruth Cleveland goes out to play 
 in the rear of the White House a procession of 
 considerable size emerges from the door of the 
 Executive Mansion, and the whole proceeding 
 is marked with a great deal of formality. 
 First comes the nurse with an armful of toys, 
 then a policeman, then two dogs, then another 
 nurse holding Miss Ruth by the hand and then 
 one of the White House guards. The proces- 
 sion is always formed in the same way, and it 
 makes its appearance in the garden of the 
 White House daily in any weather short of a 
 blizzard. 
 
 Miss Ruth's favorite toy is an immense baby 
 carriage, with an elaborate white silk parasol, 
 a present from an admirer away out in Califor- 
 nia, and a wonder both in size and workman- 
 ship. She gets most amusement, however, in 
 disfiguring the gravel walks of the White 
 House grounds with a little common ten-cent 
 
White House Ways. 17 
 
 spade. Red is Ruth's color. Her spade, her 
 bucket, her tin pail and her cart are all of this 
 hue ; and she generally wears a red cloak and 
 hat. 
 
 Her great pets are the two dogs, a beautiful 
 Scotch collie and a black and tan terrier. 
 When Miss Cleveland is at play the White 
 House gates in the rear of the house are 
 securely locked, and the little lady is visible 
 only from the windows of the Treasury Depart- 
 ment across the way. 
 
 The "White House cocktail" is a plain 
 whiskey,— only just twice as large as an ordinary 
 whiskey. There is only one establishment in 
 America where it is served. 
 
AROUND GROVERS COUNCIL 
 BOARD. 
 
 THE disappointment of the Cabinet is Secre- 
 tary Carlisle. The Treasury Department 
 does not fit him, and he knows it ; he is not 
 well adapted to its executive duties, and he 
 knows that, too. He longs for his old seat in 
 the Senate, he longs for his old place in the 
 Speaker's chair, but above all, he longs for a 
 right to wear a black gown and sit on the 
 Supreme bench. Carlisle's strength as a 
 public man consists, not so much in any 
 particular capacity as a constructive legisla- 
 tor, as in the logical quality of his mind. In 
 the realm of pure reason he is probably not 
 excelled by any of his contemporaries; his 
 mind is limpid, clear and crystalline; his 
 methods of reasoning are never involved or 
 complicated; he possesses a power of lumi- 
 nous statement which gives to his political 
 18 
 
Around Grover's Council Board. 19 
 
 utterances the judicial quality of a decision 
 from a bench. While he was Speaker his 
 rulings, delivered frequently without prepara- 
 tion and with little opportunity for considera- 
 tion, were models of conciseness and complete- 
 ness. 
 
 Carlisle is a lawyer by instinct ; his mind is 
 adapted by nature to the comprehension of 
 legal principles. If he had taken his rise 
 among the Tennessee mountains, a hundred 
 miles from a law book, he might have created 
 the elements of the science out of his own 
 inner consciousness, as Pascal is said to have 
 worked his way through the first problems of 
 Euclid before he had ever seen a book on 
 mathematics or been told that there was such 
 a thing as geometry. 
 
 But he is as distinctly a failure in the busi- 
 ness of politics as he is a success in the science 
 of law. He abhors details and bargains, and 
 is as helpless as a child in the presence of po- 
 litical plots and plans. With all his prestige, 
 it was more through outside pressure than 
 
20 The Show at Washington. 
 
 through any skill of his own that he succeeded 
 in winning the Kentucky Senatorship, and in 
 the Congressional election of 1886 he was 
 caught napping and found his majority whit- 
 tled down to so fine a point that a contest for 
 his seat was carried into the House, over which 
 he presided as Speaker. If he had known 
 anything about politics he would never have 
 left the Senate, where his fame was secure, in 
 order to become the monumental failure of the 
 Cleveland Cabinet. 
 
 There is an old-fashioned courtesy and gen- 
 tleness in the bearing of the Secretary of the 
 Treasury which make him one of the most de- 
 lightful and approachable of men. It is the 
 hardest thing in the world for him to deny a 
 favor, and he never treats an inferior with any- 
 thing but good nature and polite consideration. 
 When by himself he is usually engaged in 
 deep thought, and he has been known to walk 
 the entire length of Pennsylvania avenue in 
 seeming unconsciousness of his surroundings. 
 When in this mood his most intimate friend 
 might pass without a glance of recognition ; 
 but even when most deeply absorbed he will 
 
Around Grover's Council Board. 2 1 
 
 respond easily and without the slightest show 
 of embarrassment to an entire stranger who 
 may venture to address him, and he is ready to 
 launch into conversation upon any topic, no 
 matter how foreign it may be to the subject 
 upon which his mind has been concentrated. 
 
 Carlisle is democratic in every fibre of his 
 being ; he makes no outward distinction in in- 
 dividuals and treats his bootblack with as 
 thoughtful courtesy as he would show to one 
 of his colleagues in the Cabinet. He has been 
 seen to give his seat in the street car to a col- 
 ored girl with a laundry basket, and to do it 
 with as profound a bow and as deferential a 
 touch of the hat as if he were showing atten- 
 tion to the finest lady of the land. He is the 
 only member of the Cabinet who habitually 
 goes into a public barber shop to get shaved. 
 Every day he walks over from the department 
 to a little shop in the basement of the Riggs 
 house, and emerges a few minutes later look- 
 ing as if he had had his face washed. His in- 
 separable companion is a pinch of fine cut, 
 which he chews with vigor and persistency. 
 
22 The Show at Washington. 
 
 " Joe " Blackburn says that Carlisle is the 
 most remarkable man he ever knew. He de- 
 clares that the Secretary of the Treasury can 
 tell the contents of a book without looking at 
 it, and give the synopsis of an argument on 
 being told the name of the author. 
 
 Secretary Herbert is the only member of the 
 Cabinet who can be called a specialist in his 
 own department. Mr. Herbert is fitted to be 
 Secretary of the Navy and for no other place 
 around Mr. Cleveland's council board. He is 
 a sailor, every inch of him ; he knows a ship 
 from masthead to keel ; he can box the com- 
 pass like an old salt and could walk the deck 
 as an admiral or climb the rigging as a sailor. 
 He has sailed before the mast and has been 
 taught the art of seamanship in the school of 
 experience. It is impossible for him to follow 
 the example of Secretary " Dick " Thompson 
 and express surprise at finding a ship hollow, 
 for he knows nautical affairs as well as if he 
 had just finished a course of study down at 
 Annapolis. 
 
Around Grovers Council Board. 23 
 
 For years he has been unconsciously prepar- 
 ing himself for his present position, for in Con- 
 gress he was chairman of the naval affairs com- 
 mittee, and devoted most of his time to the 
 study of ships and their models. He is the 
 careful man of the Cabinet. He is too careful. 
 He has the Clevelandesque characteristic of 
 not being able to throw upon his subordinates 
 the care of minor matters and insists upon 
 giving his own attention to them. He goes 
 over every paper that comes before him with 
 scrupulous care, tries to keep track of every- 
 thing that is going on, and cumbers his mind 
 with a lot of wearisome detail which could be 
 attended to just as well by subordinates. It 
 would take him two days to accomplish what 
 Secretary Whitney used to accomplish in as 
 many hours. But then Whitney had marvel- 
 ous facility in rushing business. He was a 
 wonder as an executive officer. 
 
 When Herbert has any work of special im- 
 portance on hand he always goes home to 
 attend to it. He has the Southern habit of 
 wishing to sit with his feet on his desk and 
 3 
 
24 The Show at Washington. 
 
 gossip with all who come to see him. No 
 matter how busy he may be he is too good- 
 natured to decline to see any respectable per- 
 son who happens to send in a card ; but at home 
 he can shut himself up in his room and dig 
 away without interruption. He goes riding 
 every afternoon, as soon as he can get away 
 from his desk, in a very high old-fashioned top 
 buggy, drawn by two sorrel horses. On these 
 afternoon trips the secretary generally takes 
 along one of his bureau chiefs, with whom he 
 talks over important matters of department 
 business that he has not had time to attend to 
 during the rush of the official day. 
 
 He is never so happy as when in his office 
 figuring on the cost of ships to be built by the 
 Government. He likes the work, and ship 
 building is his hobby. He would make a 
 splendid head of a ship yard or an excellent 
 bank cashier. He has a wonderful ability at 
 figures; he is a regular adding machine, and 
 can foot up a column with lightning rapidity ; 
 he still reads Euclid and trigonometry. In his 
 library there are hundreds of mathematical 
 
Around Grover's Council Board, 25 
 
 \vvjrks, and he reads them with the zest that 
 otners give to the latest magazines. He is 
 simple in his tastes and%simple in his habits. 
 His greatest extravagance is for gloves. 
 
 Gresham is the first Secretary of State we 
 have ever had who did not allow himself to 
 become submerged in the peculiar atmosphere 
 of the department as soon as he began to 
 breathe it. He is the first man to conceive 
 that there is nothing vitally distinctive or 
 sacred about the place to make it radically 
 different from any other department of the 
 government. The conception is original, and 
 for those who have been accustomed to tread 
 softly and speak in whispers on entering the 
 stately corridors it is refreshing. 
 
 Gresham takes hold of the business of state 
 in the same spirit that he might take hold of a 
 big case at law or that he might have grappled 
 with a sizable contract while he was in charge 
 of the postal service. He does not approach 
 diplomatic questions with a feeling of awe, and 
 he does not regard the emissaries of foreign 
 
26 The Show at Washington. 
 
 powers as invested with sacred attributes. He 
 regards it as a great joke to keep the repre- 
 sentative of a little South American republic 
 cooling his heels in the corridor while he is 
 spinning yarns with Hoosiers in the diplomatic 
 room. 
 
 There never was a Cabinet officer who 
 adorned himself with fewer official frills. Not 
 long ago a convention of Baptist clergymen 
 was in town. Gresham had started out to a 
 Cabinet meeting with a lighted cigar in his 
 mouth as usual, and his hat tipped back on his 
 head. Just as he reached the state department 
 elevator he bethought himself of something 
 and went back to his desk to attend to it. He 
 sat down and began writing with hat and cigar 
 still in evidence. While he was writing, in 
 walked a delegation of the reverends. Gresham 
 glanced up, saw that his visitors had no busi- 
 ness in particular, turned to his desk again 
 and continued to write and smoke, apparently 
 oblivious of the fact that the sightseers had 
 ranged themselves in the corner of the room 
 and were studying his points and commenting 
 on them with as much freedom as if he had 
 
Around Gr over's Council Board. 27 
 
 been a rare specimen from the Smithsonian. 
 Imagine Blaine permitting that, or Bayard, or 
 Frelinghuysen ! But it is the sort of thing that 
 is apt to happen any day with Gresham. 
 
 Gresham is suspicious by nature. He trusts 
 nobody, and is always afraid that some one of 
 his subordinates is trying to take advantage of 
 him. If you were to see him in the morning 
 and were to mention incidentally that he had 
 better keep his eye on one of his clerks, the 
 suggestion would sink into his mind. He would 
 think it over until he got to his desk in the de- 
 partment, and by that time he would have con- 
 cluded that the clerk was a dangerous fellow to 
 have around, and he would promptly chop off 
 his official head. After it was all over he would 
 give the poor fellow a trial and a chance to ex- 
 onerate himself, but in the meantime the posi- 
 tion would have been filled by somebody else. 
 
 Gresham is the same outside the department 
 as in. He lives at the Arlington, and he roams 
 about in the lobby in the evening, sits on the 
 sofas under the electric lights and spins yarns. 
 
28 The Show at Washington. 
 
 r Vhen he gets to his own room he peels off his 
 coat, unbuttons his vest, throws himself at full 
 length on the sofa, flings his hands over his 
 head and smokes and talks. Sometimes his 
 boots are on, but more often he is in his stock- 
 ing feet. If anybody knocks at the door he 
 sings out, "Come in," without taking the 
 trouble to get up. And if the new-comer 
 happens to be a stranger it takes the secre- 
 tary about three minutes to find out who he is, 
 what part of the country he came from, and all 
 about the people, the industries and the crops. 
 He is eternally on the hunt for information, and 
 he levies tribute on every intelligence that floats 
 within reach. 
 
 Richard Olney is the discontented member 
 of the Cabinet. He is a victim of Grover Cleve- 
 land's capacity for making others sacrifice their 
 own interests to his. Had Olney been gifted 
 with the power of looking into the future he 
 would never have accepted the office of attor- 
 ney-general. Had he realized what was before 
 him he would not have given up his income of 
 #50,000 a year as railroad attorney for the 
 
Around Grover's Council Board. 29 
 
 empty honor of being a member of anybody's 
 Cabinet. He does not like his position, and 
 the only thing that cheers him up is the thought 
 that he may some time be able to get out of it. 
 He does not feel at home in an atmosphere 
 where so many statesmen have a pleasant habit 
 of slapping one another on the back and in- 
 dulging in side-splitting narratives of dubious 
 character. 
 
 Olney knows nothing about politics and cares 
 nothing. He labors under the delusion that the 
 principal function of the office of attorney- 
 general ought to be something else than sitting 
 in judgment upon the merits and claims of ap- 
 plicants for $1200 positions. It is difficult for 
 him to realize that, in becoming the chief law 
 officer of the government, he accepted a posi- 
 tion which called for as much political astute- 
 ness as legal acumen, and he has wished a 
 hundred times that he was back in his Boston 
 office where he could lock his door to all in- 
 truders and devote himself without interruption 
 to the consideration of knotty legal problems 
 and the preparation of masterly briefs. 
 
30 The Show at Washington. 
 
 Mr. Olney has been a corporation lawyer all 
 his life. He has been trained to believe that 
 he owed his first duty to the men who em- 
 ployed him, and that so long as he won their 
 cases in court or gave them unimpeachable 
 legal advice it was of no earthly consequence 
 what sort of an impression he made on the 
 public. He had for years been steeped in an 
 atmosphere of law and logic, and he finds him- 
 self out of his element in a position where as 
 much depends on skill in handling men as in 
 laying down incontrovertible principles of law. 
 
 The attorney-general works as hard as any 
 member of the Cabinet. The work that he 
 has to do is unpicturesque enough. He is 
 early at his desk in the morning and late in 
 leaving it at night. But out of his office he is 
 still attorney-general. He becomes interested 
 in a case and spends his evenings in looking it 
 up, and devotes his spare time to thinking it 
 out. His hobby is a combination of law and 
 tennis, and he prefers the society of a law 
 book to that of any person in Washington. 
 He is by far the best tennis player in Wash- 
 
Around Grover's Council Board. 31 
 
 ington. In former years he was regarded as 
 one of the best players in the country, and in 
 Boston used to practice with such men as 
 Dwight and Sears. The attorney-general is 
 also fond of base ball in a dignified way. He 
 looks over the diamond with a strictly judicial 
 eye ; he weighs the qualities of the two teams 
 carefully, and then looks to see the better team 
 win. 
 
SKETCHED IN THE SENATE. 
 
 THERE is no more mild-appearing membei* 
 of the Senate than " Matt " Quay. As 
 he sits calmly and quietly in his seat in the 
 front row it is hard to imagine that he is the 
 man who has so long been the target of news- 
 paper criticism in all parts of the country. 
 With his glasses and quiet air he looks much 
 more like a student or college professor than 
 like the politician he is. He is not a born 
 orator, for, although apparently perfectly at 
 home upon the floor, his voice is very weak, 
 and it is with apparent effort that he makes 
 himself heard throughout the chamber. He has 
 an abundance of confidence in himself. His 
 actions are performed with an air of decision 
 that betokens a perfect self-satisfaction. He is 
 a great reader of newspapers, and each morn- 
 ing his desk is piled high with the principal 
 journals of the country. His is a very notice- 
 able figure in the Senate, for he is the only 
 32 
 
Sketched in the Senate. 33 
 
 member of that august body who does not 
 customarily dress in black. The Pennsylvania 
 Senator's favorite attire is a suit of light blue 
 and gray, and he looks like a bluebird who 
 has by mistake wandered into a flock of crows. 
 
 Probably the most regular Senator in his 
 habits is Walthall, of Mississippi. He cannot 
 be induced to keep late hours, and invitations 
 to evening entertainments fall upon barren 
 ground when sent to him. Like our traditional 
 ancestors, he obeys the ancient maxim of early 
 to bed and early to rise. Promptly at nine P. 
 M. he retires, and is awake and sipping a cup 
 of hot coffee by four A. M. A small coffee 
 pot and contents are prepared the night before 
 and placed conveniently near. When the 
 Senator awakes the next morning he makes 
 his coffee himself on a little gas stove while 
 his family and household are peacefully slum- 
 bering. After his coffee is finished he smokes 
 a cigar, and is then ready to attend to his Con- 
 gressional work. 
 
34 The Show at Washington. 
 
 Roger Mills has carried over with him to the 
 Senate all the startling oratorical habits he ac- 
 quired in the pugilistic atmosphere of the House. 
 
 The impulsive Texan has never been able to 
 train himself to the wearing of cuffs. He tried 
 them once when he was going to make a great 
 speech in the House, but as soon as he began 
 to wade into his subject he tore them off with 
 an exclamation of disgust and threw them down 
 in the aisle. 
 
 As he warms up in debate he begins to hitch 
 up his coat sleeves in turn, until he has them 
 both rolled up above the elbows, displaying to 
 the galleries an arm length of immaculately 
 white linen and a wrist as round and fair as a 
 woman's. 
 
 Picture to yourself a small, red-bearded face 
 that might easily be taken for the countenance 
 of the proprietor of a second-hand clothing 
 establishment, a short form of stocky build, 
 clothed in garments of the latest style and 
 most fashionable cut, the neck adorned with a 
 massive tie of flaming red, and you have before 
 your mind's eye Senator Calvin S. Brice. 
 
Sketched in the Senate. 35 
 
 Brice lives in New York, but represents an 
 Ohio constituency. He is neither an oratorical 
 nor a working Senator. He is in the Senate 
 principally because it is easier to keep in 
 touch with the Democratic party all over the 
 country from a seat there than from any other 
 point. 
 
 He spends most of his time in his retiring- 
 room holding conferences with Hill and Gor- 
 man. When he is in his seat during the ses- 
 sion he divides his time between talking with 
 Hill, who sits next to him, and reading the 
 New York papers. 
 
 The most winsome smile in either branch of 
 Congress is the property of Senator Lindsay, 
 of Kentucky. It is perpetual, irradiating and 
 irresistible, and it gives to its possessor an as- 
 pect of everlasting benevolence. 
 
 Carlisle's successor is something of an orator, 
 and his speeches are always earnest and fre- 
 quently impassioned. But no matter how earn- 
 est and impassioned they may be, every sentence 
 is embedded in a smile. 
 
 He has worn it waking and sleeping, musing 
 
36 The Show at Washington, 
 
 and speaking, until it has become imperishably 
 fixed upon his physiognomy. 
 
 Lindsay is one of the best-known men in his 
 section. Some years ago a convention was held 
 in his State to nominate a candidate for the 
 Kentucky Supreme Court. Lindsay was in the 
 State Senate, after having served a term as 
 deputy sheriff. For a time he figured as a 
 candidate for the judgeship. 
 
 Believing that he could not be nominated he 
 withdrew, and neither his county nor the ad- 
 joining one was represented in the convention. 
 There were a number of candidates. The con- 
 vention got into a deadlock, and every once in 
 awhile an enthusiastic attorney, of Hopkins- 
 ville, would rise, and, half in fun and half in 
 earnest, would nominate William Lindsay. 
 
 Along about the fourth day, after this attorney 
 had been told to sit down a hundred times, the 
 convention finally took his persistent advice 
 and nominated Lindsay. 
 
 Senator Vilas is in constant trouble over the 
 way in which his name is mispronounced. 
 
Sketched in the Senate. 37 
 
 Senator Pettigrew, of North Dakota, tells a story 
 of an incident that occurred when they were 
 youngsters practicing law together. 
 
 Vilas was pleading a case before a district 
 judge one day, and became very much exas- 
 perated at the way in which the court treated 
 him. Finally, he could stand it no longer, and 
 said to the judge : " Sir, you are a jackass." 
 
 The judge calmly leaned over his bench, and 
 replied : " That is a statement that may or may 
 not be susceptible of proof. But there is one 
 thing that needs no proof, and which cannot 
 be disproved, and that is that you are a Vil-as." 
 
 Peffer bears a peculiar relation to his asso- 
 ciates in the Senate. 
 
 Nobody takes him seriously, and yet every- 
 body seems to be fond of him. The Kansas 
 Populist is blessed with a sweet and almost 
 child-like disposition, which, coupled with his 
 evident sincerity of purpose, makes distrust or 
 dislike of him out of the question. 
 
 Perhaps one secret of his popularity is the 
 fact that he is never in anybody's else way. 
 
38 The Show at Washington. 
 
 Senator Gorman's face would not attract at- 
 tention as that of a great statesman and a great 
 leader. It is small, smooth-shaven, with clean- 
 cut features and eyes in which one can almost 
 see political schemes evolving. 
 
 Gorman is a very short man, rather stout 
 than otherwise, and constantly increasing in 
 weight. He is one of the smallest men, physi- 
 cally, now occupying a seat in the halls of 
 Congress. 
 
 When he is pointed out to visitors to the 
 Capitol, especially to those who understand his 
 present power in the Democratic party, the in- 
 voluntary remark of the stranger is always : 
 "Is that Gorman ? I never would have 
 believed it." 
 
 One of the best-known figures on the Wash- 
 ington streets is Senator Ransom, of North 
 Carolina. He is a typical Southerner of the 
 old school, and is one of the handsomest men 
 in the Senate. He wears the conventional and 
 becoming soft felt hat of his locality, a black 
 frock coat and a wide expanse of shirt bosom. 
 
 He is renowned for having the smallest feet 
 of any member of the Senate. He is very 
 
Sketched in the Senate. 39 
 
 proud of them, too, and always wears shoes 
 that fit them like a glove. Old members of 
 the Senate say that in former days he was even 
 more debonair than he is to-day. 
 
 Now his closely-trimmed black beard is 
 pretty well sprinkled with gray, and his coat 
 sags a little at the corners and shines a little at 
 the seams, as though he didn't care so much 
 for its looks as for the comfort of old friend- 
 ship that it gives him. 
 
 The Chesterfield of the Senate is Aldrich, of 
 Rhode Island. Always perfectly at ease, cour- 
 teous and responsive, handsome in face and 
 figure, trimly dressed and athletic in bearing, 
 he has many points of resemblance to Chester 
 A. Arthur, and, like the late President, is a 
 man of the world to his finger tips. 
 
 If Rhode Island were as big as Ohio, or as 
 far West as Colorado, Aldrich might some day 
 be a Presidential quantity. 
 
 As it is he must content himself with being 
 one of the most popular men in the Senate, 
 ,and one of three or four who manipulate legis- 
 lation when his party is in control. 
 
46 The Show at Washington. 
 
 "Joe" Blackburn, of Kentucky, is one of 
 the most companionable men in public life. 
 He is endowed with all of the peculiar lovable 
 qualities of the genuine Kentuckian, and any 
 man whose foot ever pressed the blue grass 
 carpet instinctively warms to him. 
 
 It must be confessed of Blackburn, though, 
 that a great many things are more congenial 
 to him than the proceedings of the dignified 
 body of which he is an erratic member. He 
 dislikes the routine work and study of states- 
 manship, and he carries his working library in 
 his hat. 
 
 Blackburn says that in his early days he 
 very narrowly escaped becoming a lawyer of 
 great erudition, and that he was rescued by 
 kindly counsel. When he was a youthful prac- 
 titioner at Lexington the leading criminal law- 
 yer of Northern Kentucky was old "Joe" Baird, 
 of Louisville, a man of meagre education, but 
 possessed of much shrewd sense, and a jury 
 pleader who could not be matched. 
 
 One day the young attorney, who had al- 
 ready gained an enviable reputation, paid a 
 visit to the elder's office. The room was al- 
 most bare of furniture. In the middle was a 
 
Sketched in the Senate. 
 
 rickety table, and on the table two well- 
 thumbed books — a copy of the statutes of 1842 
 and the criminal code. 
 
 "Where do you keep your library, Mr. 
 Baird," inquired the youngster. The old 
 man pointed suggestively to the volumes on 
 the table. "Don't never buy any books," he 
 said; "they'll only bother you." 
 
 Blackburn has always lived up to that advice. 
 
 About the best-dressed man in the Senate is 
 Gorman's protege, Gibson, of Maryland, or 
 "Charley" Gibson, as he is known to all his 
 friends, and " Terrapin " Gibson, as he is known 
 to those who are not especially intimate with 
 him. There is a strong resemblance between 
 his portrait and the portrait of the late Roscoe 
 Conkling, but the actual resemblance is not so 
 great. He has a portly figure — in fact, so portly 
 that his walk is always leisurely and dignified. 
 
 Pettigrew, of South Dakota, lived for many 
 years in Sioux City in a log cabin of his own 
 handiwork. This was not long ago, for the 
 Senator is not now much beyond forty years of 
 
4.2 The Skoii) at Washington. 
 
 age. He was a Vermont farmer's boy, living 
 many years not far from the New York State 
 line. 
 
 When attracted to the West he walked most 
 of the distance to his new home. His first in- 
 vestment of money was a lucky one, for he 
 bought some of the land upon which now 
 stands the best part of Sioux City, and in this 
 his present large fortune had its source. 
 
 Shoup, of Idaho, is a fighter. He grew 
 strong fighting among Indians and despera- 
 does. Born in the East, he started out for 
 Pike's Peak when he was twenty-two years of 
 age, and during the war he was one of the in- 
 dependent scouts of the Colorado volunteers. 
 He has been connected with all the Indians 
 and desperadoes of the West. 
 
 On the street Senator Palmer, of Illinois, 
 would never be taken by those who do not 
 know him for a piece of possible Presidential 
 timber. In fact, he would much more prob- 
 ably be selected by bunco men as the most 
 
Sketched in the Senate. 43 
 
 available candidate for their special mode of 
 treatment. 
 
 Wearing at all times a huge slouch hat, which 
 gives him the appearance of having just made 
 his escape from some boundless prairie of the 
 West, with his glistening white chin whisker 
 as the only hirsute adornment of his face, and 
 the most genial of smiles, he looks like a second 
 edition of Joshua Whitcomb in the streets of 
 New York. 
 
 Palmer has one great peculiarity. This is 
 his necktie ; the peculiarity of the necktie is 
 in its appearance and disappearance. In rainy 
 weather he always wears it, while when the 
 skies are bright he dispenses with it and trusts 
 to his wide whisker to cover this Peffer defect 
 in his toilet. 
 
 Senator Peffer, by the way, sits just across 
 the chamber from the Senator from Illinois, 
 and the day has not yet come when both of 
 these distinguished statesmen have worn a 
 necktie at the same time. 
 
 Filled to the brim with free coinage ideas is 
 Senator Stewart, of Nevada. His is a striking 
 
44 The Show at Washington. 
 
 figure, and draws, the curious eyes of sight- 
 seers. He is a stalwart and stately veteran 
 from snow-capped Nevada, the frosted silver 
 State. Silver white is his hair. Silvered, too, 
 the patriarch's beard that flows over his breast. 
 Yet he still lacks several years of the patriarch's 
 age of three score and ten. 
 
 His face is deeply lined, but there is little 
 stoop to the broad shoulders. His cheek is 
 ruddy and his eye is clear. His bearing is 
 genial, but dominant at times to the verge of 
 domineering. He leans on nobody. He forms 
 and asserts his own opinions with racy vigor. 
 He belongs to the grand army of pioneers — to 
 the virgin earth breakers. 
 
 He is one of the Argonauts who braved the 
 dragon danger in its hundred forms and won 
 their golden fleece with pick and pan. The 
 story of his life is a dream. He still holds the 
 stage as a leading old man, but in his zenith he 
 was a star of the first magnitude. Then he 
 was a State maker — the master-mind in the 
 most marvelous mining camp this world has 
 seen on the crest of that marvel of nature, 
 the Comstock lode. 
 
Sketched in the Senate. 45 
 
 Senator Morgan, of Alabama, never lacks 
 for something to say. Words fall from his lips 
 with an easy, gliding motion, which demon- 
 strates that in his case mind and mouth are in 
 perfect harmony. Indeed, the Senator is some- 
 thing like a crowded newspaper, where the 
 trouble is rather to decide upon what to leave 
 out than what to put in. 
 
 Back in the Forty-fifth Congress, just before 
 the close of the second session, Morgan suc- 
 ceeded in getting a private bill through both 
 houses, and it went to the White House, Mr. 
 Hayes then being President. Word came to 
 Morgan that the President was going to inter- 
 pose a pocket veto, that is, decline to sign the 
 bill ; and as there were not ten days of life left 
 to Congress the measure would fail. 
 
 Senator Morgan was wroth. He declared 
 himself thus : " All right. If Mr. Hayes will 
 not sign my bill there will be no more legisla- 
 tion this session. I am going to speak on the 
 next measure that comes before the Senate, 
 and I will not finish until the session has ex- 
 pired." 
 
 Only about thirty-six hours of life remained 
 to the Forty-fifth Congress when Morgan an- 
 
46 The Show at Washington. 
 
 hounced his intention of talking the session 
 out. He got the floor and began speaking. As 
 there is no limitation of debate in the Senate, 
 a Senator can talk as long as he can think of 
 anything to say or can stand on his feet. 
 Morgan had talked for four hours before his 
 fellow-Senators became aware of his purpose ; 
 then there was hurrying to and fro. 
 
 There were important bills yet unacted upon, 
 besides the private measures, of which nearly 
 every Senator had one or more he hoped still 
 to get through. And there was Morgan, stand' 
 ing easily erect, displaying no sign of physical 
 fatigue, the words rolling from his mouth in a 
 placid stream, apparently as unending and in- 
 exhaustible as the stream from a perennial 
 spring. 
 
 A hasty conference was held in the cloak- 
 room, and two Republican Senators were ap- 
 pointed a committee to go to the White House, 
 explain the situation to President Hayes and 
 endeavor to induce him to sign Senator Mor- 
 gan's bill, and so shut off his embarrassing 
 flow of words. Hayes laughed at the predica- 
 ment of the Senate and signed the bill. The 
 welcome news was telegraphed to the Capitol, 
 
Sketched in the Senate. 47 
 
 and the dispatch was quietly handed to Sena- 
 tor Morgan. 
 
 He read it, smiled complacently, closed his 
 six-hour speech in about a minute, and sat 
 down to enjoy his victory. 
 
PAT AND PERSONAL. 
 
 SPRINGER, of Illinois, is the liveliest mem 
 ber of the House. Here is a little story 
 that Senator Cullom relates. It was back in 
 the Forty-ninth Congress. The Illinois Senator 
 went into the House one day and found it in 
 the greatest excitement. Members were run- 
 ning up and down the aisles, and Springer's 
 stentorian voice was heard shouting above the 
 turmoil and confusion. 
 
 Finding that nobody paid any attention to 
 his remarks he jumped upon his desk, but 
 before he could free himself for action he felt 
 a restraining hand upon his coat-tails. " Bill " 
 Morrison, who was leader of the House that 
 session, gently pulled his vociferous colleague 
 back to the floor. 
 
 " Springer," he said confidingly, placing his 
 hand on the other's shoulder, "you'd better 
 quiet down, It's no use. You can't distinguish 
 48 
 
Pat and Personal. 49 
 
 yourself in this House unless you get on the 
 Speaker's desk and stand on your head." 
 
 Young Fred Dubois is one of the most pop- 
 ular members of the Senate, as he was of the 
 House, where he sat for a term or two as a 
 delegate from the territory which he was chiefly 
 instrumental in transforming into a State. He 
 looks like a boy, and it is not many years since 
 he was playing foot ball at Yale. 
 
 The youthful Senator tells of an experience 
 he had at the time of his election to the Senate, 
 which for a short time made him feel decidedly 
 inconsequential. 
 
 There was a long and bitter contest in the 
 Idaho Legislature over the choice of the first 
 Senators from that State. As soon as the fight 
 was over, Dubois, flushed with victory, started 
 for home. He reached his town about dusk, 
 and his bosom swelled with pride as he ob- 
 served the entire population gathered at the 
 station with a brass band in waiting, fireworks 
 in reserve and all the paraphernalia for a vocif- 
 erous and blazing welcome. 
 
 Almost overcome by his feelings, he mounted 
 
50 The Show at Washington. 
 
 on the first available eminence and began an 
 address of thanks. What was his chagrin to 
 see that his remarks fell upon deaf ears, and 
 to observe the crowd gradually fall away from 
 him and gather about an insignificant-looking 
 individual who had come on the same train. 
 
 It didn't take him a second to descend from 
 his perch, and then he learned that a new hotel 
 was to be opened that evening, and that the 
 proprietor had arranged for a brilliant celebra- 
 tion, the principal feature of which was to be 
 his own grand reception at the station as a 
 benefactor of the town. 
 
 "It was rather trying," adds Dubois, "but 
 I had all the satisfaction of it for a minute, and 
 no bills to pay, except the usual obligations 
 attendant- upon a slip of that kind." 
 
 Tom Reed has one weakness that manifests 
 itself daily. This is his habit of examining the 
 pictures displayed in photographers' windows. 
 With his gray overcoat buttoned tightly around 
 his portly form and looking as if it had been 
 put on in a great hurry, with its collar half 
 turned uo and half turned down, and his hands, 
 
Pat and Personal. 51 
 
 pushed down into his pockets as far as they 
 can go, he bowls along Pennsylvania avenue. 
 
 But the windows of a photograph gallery 
 have a wonderful fascination for him, and he 
 cannot resist the temptation to stop before each 
 one of them and study the pictures long and 
 carefully. 
 
 Senator Irby, the hot-headed Populist from 
 South Carolina, who succeeded the courtly 
 Wade Hampton, prides himself on his adhesion 
 to the code duello as the gentlemanly way of 
 settling a dispute. He has engaged in several 
 affaires d' honneur, and on one occasion winged, 
 if he did not kill, his adversary. 
 
 Irby's first duel, however, was not fought 
 among the Carolina pines, but on the en- 
 lightened soil of Massachusetts. The Senator 
 was then a student at Harvard. Although a 
 sophomore at the time, he was exceedingly 
 "fresh." He was loud in his praise of the 
 South, of the bravery of its men and the 
 beauty of its women. The code he advocated 
 valorously. 
 
 One day he got into an altercation with a son 
 of one of the Scribners, of the New York pub- 
 
52 The Show at Washingiorl. 
 
 lishing house of that name. By preconcerted 
 arrangement the matter was allowed to go to 
 the length of a challenge. Seconds were ap- 
 pointed and the time of meeting and the other 
 preliminaries were arranged. At daybreak one 
 morning the boys went out to see the sham 
 duel. 
 
 Irby was the only one who was in dead 
 earnest. Graphite bullets, which were crushed 
 to powder when they were crammed down the 
 barrels of the duelling pistols, were the deadly 
 pellets used. Scribner won the toss for posi- 
 tion and the first fire. The weapons were 
 loaded in Irby's presence. Still he did not 
 weaken. The principals took their places. 
 
 Irby stood erect with set teeth, while Scrib- 
 ner's second slowly called "Fire, one, two, 
 three." As the last word was pronounced the 
 report of Scribner' s pistol rang out on the 
 morning air. Irby, of course, was unhurt. 
 When it came his turn to fire he levelled his 
 pistol, took deliberate aim and pulled the trig- 
 ger ; as the smoke rolled away Scribner threw 
 up his hands dramatically, spun around, 
 lurched and fell. 
 
 The physician selected to do his part rushed 
 
Pat and Personal. 53 
 
 forward, leaned over the fallen student and 
 poured a vial of some red stuff over his shirt 
 front. Irby came to view the ghastly face and 
 supposed bloody corpse of his antagonist. 
 The doctor without a moment's hesitation pro- 
 nounced Scribner dead. 
 
 Irby was then duly impressed with the se- 
 rious consequences of his deed. He hastily 
 gathered his effects together and took the first 
 train for South Carolina. It was several weeks 
 before he learned the nature of the trick that 
 had been played on him. He never went back 
 to Harvard College. 
 
 Senator Hoar has a bunch of keys that are 
 historic. When he is in the Senate chamber 
 these keys invariably dangle upon his finger 
 and they are now regarded as a barometer of 
 the transmutations of his mind. 
 
 When he swings them with easy and regular 
 motion it is a sign that the Massachusetts Sena- 
 tor is at peace with all the world and that what 
 is going on in the Senate is satisfactory to him ; 
 when the keys swing and the motion is not 
 regular it signifies that he is in doubt what to 
 
54 The Show at Washington. 
 
 think of the transactions ; when they tap the 
 desk petulantly some idea is being expounded 
 that is wrong, according to his views, but not 
 worth while answering or contradicting ; when 
 some Populist gets up and proceeds to give 
 forth the most alarming views the keys swing 
 playfully before the Senator's smooth face • 
 swung in a long, sinuous curve in the air the 
 keys denote disgust and a desire to reprove 
 and reproach ; and when they are swung gaily 
 at the end of his finger in rapid motion the 
 Massachusetts man is very much pleased with 
 the proceedings. 
 
 Senator Hoar's bunch of keys and their dif- 
 ferent motions make a regular open book of 
 his mental condition, and the galleries have 
 learned to read the volume. 
 
 One of the most interesting traits of Benton 
 McMillin's character is his delightful assurance 
 and his invulnerable self-esteem. He is so 
 happily constituted that he never realizes when 
 he has failed. He is thoroughly satisfied with 
 himself, and always pictures himself on the top 
 wave of success. Tom Reed fairly turns and 
 
Pat and Personal. 55 
 
 roasts him on the spit, and after it is all over 
 McMillin will throw himself into his seat and 
 gaze about him with the most contented air in 
 the world and a smile of triumph playing over 
 his face. Everybody else realizes that he has 
 been flayed alive, but he never thinks for a 
 moment that he has not won a great oratorical 
 success, and while his friends are questioning 
 whether or not to commiserate him, he is wait- 
 ing for everybody to hasten forward with con- 
 gratulations. 
 
 McMillin is a first-rate fellow, and you can't 
 help liking him ; but he reminds one of old 
 " Joe " Brown, of Georgia, and his experience 
 with Ingalls. The venerable Georgian enter- 
 tained the most profound contempt for the bril- 
 liant Kansas Senator, and once, after Ingalls 
 had delivered himself of an unusually exas- 
 perating diatribe, Brown set himself to work 
 upon a reply, which he had planned to be a 
 masterpiece of severity and parliamentary in- 
 vective. 
 
 It really was a very fair effort, and the old 
 
 man got it off with all the spirit that was in 
 
 him. But as soon as he had taken his seat 
 
 Ingalls rose to reply, and such a piece of scath- 
 
 5 
 
$6 The Show at Washington. 
 
 ing wit and sarcasm has seldom found a place 
 in Congressional debate. It created a great 
 sensation in Washington, and the supposed 
 discomfiture of its unfortunate victim was tele- 
 graphed all over the country. 
 
 A week or two later Brown made a trip home 
 to Atlanta. One of his old friends, who sup- 
 posed that condolences were in order, ap- 
 proached him and as delicately as he knew 
 how broached the subject. "We've all been 
 reading about that little skirmish of yours with 
 Ingalls," he began, and was about to add a 
 word of sympathy and encouragement when 
 the Senator interrupted him. 
 
 " Thank you, sir, thank you," said the old 
 gentleman pompously. " I was just a trifle 
 severe on Ingalls ; but he has no right to com- 
 plain. He brought it all on himself. He de- 
 served everything that he got." 
 
 One of the luckiest men in the House is 
 Gorman, of Michigan. The district from which 
 he was originally elected was strongly Repub- 
 lican. There were two much older Democrats 
 in the district than he, and each had been the 
 
Pat and Personal. 57 
 
 unsuccessful candidate of his party for Con- 
 gress. That year the Democratic convention 
 met, and, after tendering the nomination to 
 both of the men who had formerly made the 
 race and receiving a declination from both, the 
 body practically adjourned and many of the 
 delegates left for their homes. 
 
 Some of the delegates, however, thought 
 that it would never do to let the contest go by 
 default, so they held a stump convention, and, 
 as a joke, tendered the nomination to Mr. Gor- 
 man. In the face of the big Republican 
 majority he accepted the nomination, and 
 began a plucky fight. 
 
 There was a political landslide in Michigan 
 that year, and he came off victorious with fly- 
 ing colors. Now he is sure of staying in Con- 
 gress for some time, for his district has been 
 changed by a new apportionment into a thor- 
 oughly Democratic one. 
 
 His luck remained by him in the Speaker- 
 ship contest between Crisp and Mills. He 
 tossed up a copper to see for which of the lead- 
 ing candidates he would vote. The coin told 
 him to vote for Crisp ; he did so, was on the 
 
58 The Show at Washington. 
 
 winning side and now enjoys excellent com- 
 mittee places. 
 
 The study of Congressman Hitt, of Illinois, 
 is a Blaine portrait gallery. Upon the walls of 
 this room hang over a dozen pictures of the 
 late Secretary of State, representing him at all 
 ages and in all postures. All of the pictures 
 bear Mr. Blaine's autograph, having been pre- 
 sented by him, and they form a very valuable 
 collection. 
 
 There was probably no member of Congress 
 who was as close to Mr. Blaine as was Mr. 
 Hitt. They were intimate friends of long 
 standing, and spent much time in each other's 
 company. There is one object to which Con- 
 gressman Hitt is a deadly opponent, and that 
 is a Mugwump. 
 
 His definition of a Mugwump is, "A man 
 who looks into the glass and thinks he sees 
 the government." 
 
 One of the most interesting characters in 
 Congress is the senior Senator from Massachu- 
 setts. There is hardly a man in the dignified 
 
Pat and Personal. 59 
 
 body, in which he has so long been a conspicu- 
 ous figure, as reminiscent as Senator Hoar of a 
 bygone generation. He is essentially a scholar ; 
 he boasts a culture and a familiarity with the 
 best literature of all kinds which is the envy 
 of his associates. His keen and pungent wit 
 smacks of the schools, and the biting, rasping 
 sarcasm of which he is a master seems 
 strangely out of place when associated with 
 his innocent, almost babyish face, and the eyes 
 that beam good-naturedly behind the . old- 
 fashioned spectacles. 
 
 Now that Evarts is gone nobody is left in 
 the Senate to cross swords with him in a trial 
 of wit. But when the New York humorist was 
 in the harness the cloak-room contests between 
 the two were rare and racy treats. It was no 
 easy thing to pick the winner. On one occa- 
 sion, however, and that very near the last, the 
 New York statesman came off with flying 
 colors. 
 
 Evarts was chairman of the library com- 
 mittee and Hoar was one of the minor mem- 
 bers. Evarts was lazy and would not call his 
 committee together from the beginning to the 
 end of the session. The Massachusetts Sena- 
 
60 The Show at Washington. 
 
 tor happened to have a measure that he was 
 particularly anxious to bring up. It had been 
 referred to the library committee, and there 
 seemed doomed to sleep the sleep of death. 
 
 The chairman was pleaded with in vain. 
 He would promise to call the committee to- 
 gether, and then conveniently forget all about 
 it. Hoar was anxious and annoyed. At last 
 one day near the close of the session he hailed 
 Evarts in the cloak-room : 
 
 " Whenever you are ready to call a meeting 
 of the library committee," he said, " I wish 
 you would notify my executors." 
 
 " I shall be most happy to notify your exec- 
 utors," retorted Evarts. 
 
 Senator Hoar with his rasping tongue con- 
 trives to gain the ill will of some of his asso- 
 ciates. One of these was Ingalls, who took 
 keen delight in pungent sayings at his col- 
 league's expense. When Arthur came into 
 the Presidency he stirred the political waters of 
 Massachusetts to their depths by his appoint- 
 ment of Roland Worthington as collector of 
 the port of Boston. 
 
Pat and Personal. 61 
 
 Senator Hoar and Senator Dawes fought the 
 appointment vigorously and when it was finally- 
 made Hoar took it as a personal affront. The 
 disappointment was so bitter that he threatened 
 to resign his place in the Senate if his wishes 
 should be disregarded in the further changes 
 that were likely to be made. It was just after 
 the Conkling-Garfield episode, and there was 
 much speculation as to whether he would really 
 carry out his threat. The question was under 
 discussion in the Senate cloak-room one day 
 and somebody commented rather dubiously on 
 the probability of a resignation. 
 
 " Hoar resign ? " exclaimed Ingalls. " Never ! 
 You don't know him as well as I do. When- 
 ever his resentment reaches that pitch he will 
 rise in his place and hand in the resignation of 
 Senator Dawes." 
 
 Calvin S. Brice's nose is a marvel of nature's 
 handiwork — by far the most remarkable thing 
 about a rather remarkable man. It is peculiar 
 and indescribable in the usual terms of nasal 
 nomenclature. It is neither large nor small; 
 
62 The Show at Washington. 
 
 it follows the lines of no accepted type ; it is 
 doubtful whether the realm of creation can 
 produce its counterpart. Nobody who has not 
 seen it can adequately comprehend it. There 
 is something elusive, intangible and phantom- 
 like in its texture. The eye clings to it, follows 
 it and strives in vain to grapple its details ; but 
 there are no details — nothing but an evanes- 
 cent, cloud-like whole. It ought to be trans- 
 lucent ; the observer catches himself uncon- 
 sciously dodging about to get it between him 
 and the light ; a ray of sunlight could hardly 
 have any other effect than to scatter the vision 
 into prismatic hues ; but it eludes even the 
 wooing caresses of the sun. It has no begin- 
 ning and no end. It springs lightly as the 
 foam of the sea from an indistinguishable 
 point somewhere near the base of the forehead 
 and floats vaguely away into . nothingness. 
 There is no line and no point, and nothing de- 
 finable except the delicately-penciled nostrils. 
 It is as insubstantial and fleeting as a wave of 
 light, a marvelous and tantalizing dream. 
 
 Dr. William Everett went home to Boston a 
 
Pat and Personal. 63 
 
 short time after he had enjoyed his first experi- 
 ence of life in Washington. A friend asked 
 him how he liked Congress. 
 
 " Oh, it is the funniest place I ever saw," re- 
 plied the doctor. " In the House they have 
 got things fixed so that you can't get anything 
 in, and in the Senate they have arranged things 
 so that you can't get anything out." 
 
ANGLES AND CURVES. 
 
 SPEAKER CRISP is round, not angular. 
 His friends in the beginning of his career 
 regretted that he did not have more of the 
 sharp corners of a crank in his makeup, think- 
 ing that it was only the man who had edges to 
 be cut who rose rapidly. Since he has been in 
 Congress he has grown aggravatingly round. 
 Angles make a crank in Congress, roundness a 
 statesman. 
 
 Crisp has grown gradually until he has a 
 good national reputation. He has calmness 
 and clear judgment; he is simple and unos- 
 tentatious, never forgetting a face and uniformly 
 courteous and polite to all with whom he comes 
 in contact. He is " Mr. Crisp " to the pages 
 and messengers, and each one he calls by 
 name as he passes through the lobbies of the 
 Capitol. 
 
 As Gresham has dispelled the mysterious 
 atmosphere of awe which for years has hung 
 64 
 
Angles and Curves. 65 
 
 like a veil about the State Department, so has 
 Crisp removed the red tape which kept the 
 public from the Speaker's room. His hour out 
 of the chair is his hour of recreation, and for- 
 mality is a stranger to him. After the session 
 he throws himself into a big leather chair and 
 gives himself up to unrestrained laughter over 
 the jokes which the various members come in 
 to tell him. Bourke Cockran says he would 
 rather retail a poor joke to Crisp than to hear 
 a good one himself. The Speaker has a de- 
 licious sense of humor, and no point, no matter 
 how obscure, is ever lost on him. 
 
 His home or hotel life is even simpler than 
 his ex-officio existence. Instead of being the 
 social lion, to which rank his position entitles 
 him, he prefers the seclusion of his apartments 
 at the old Metropolitan and the company of his 
 own family. The Speaker is essentially a do- 
 mestic man. He declines almost all invita- 
 tions, preferring to stay with Mrs. Crisp in old 
 room 156 at the Metropolitan. Crisp lives as 
 simply as the representative who was sent to 
 Congress on an economical platform. He 
 keeps no carriages or horses, but uses public 
 conveyances altogether. 
 
66 The Show at Washington, 
 
 His most intimate associates are Catchings, 
 of Mississippi, and Montgomery, of Kentucky; 
 though he is on the best of terms with nearly 
 every member of the House, whether Demo- 
 crat, Republican, Populist or Mugwump. He 
 never carries his political battles into private 
 life. The men who fought him most bitterly 
 in his race for Speaker the first time, and who 
 claimed that he would cause a split in the 
 party, now acknowledge that perhaps he was 
 the only man who could have so successfully 
 united the factions. 
 
 Crisp brings his Georgia rearing to the Cap- 
 ital. He is an early riser, unlike the majority 
 of Washingtonians. No matter how late at 
 night he is at work he is up every morning by 
 seven. His first duty of the day, he says, is to 
 read the newspapers. He breakfasts alone at 
 eight. One of his maxims is that no man 
 should talk before the first meal of the day, as 
 no man can be himself until he puts all parts 
 of his body in motion. 
 
 He goes to the Capitol early and lets noth- 
 ing interfere with his duties as Speaker. He 
 never takes but fifteen minutes for lunch, and 
 carries the same simplicity of diet into the 
 
Angles and Curves. 67 
 
 House restaurant that he does into the Metro- 
 politan dining-room. 
 
 His only social weakness, if such it may be 
 termed, is the theatre, the love of which he in- 
 herited from his father, the best years of whose 
 life were spent upon the stage. While a national 
 character, Crisp is distinctly a Georgian, as 
 much so as Carlisle is a Kentuckian. If he 
 has any vanity it is for his State, and he takes 
 a personal pride in every member of the 
 Georgia delegation. 
 
 Vice-President Stevenson is fully as demo- 
 cratic in his habits as any of the members of 
 the body over which he wields his handleless 
 gavel. 
 
 He wanders about the corridors and lobbies 
 with as little show of affectation as when he 
 was busy swinging the axe at the Post-Office 
 Department ; is chummy and chatty with every- 
 body, from John Sherman down to the pages, 
 and, altogether, takes things as easily as though 
 there were never a possibility of his brandish- 
 ing the whip from the other end of the Avenue. 
 
 The Vice-President's room is the most hand- 
 
68 The Show at Washington. 
 
 somely furnished apartment in the Capitol. 
 Everything in it is simple and elegant, but 
 Stevenson makes it as comfortable and avail- 
 able as the smoking-room in his own house. 
 The door is always open, and when he is not 
 presiding over the Senate he can generally be 
 found there, with his feet perched high on the 
 mahogany table and his lips encircling a cigar. 
 Mr. Stevenson never rides in a carriage of 
 his own, but goes to the Capitol and returns 
 from it generally on foot. His greatest dissi- 
 pation is an occasional ride in one of the slow- 
 moving, public herdic coaches that crawl up 
 and down the Avenue for the benefit of ladies 
 with bundles. He always wears a silk hat, but 
 it is at least a year old, and is never brushed. 
 
 In one way there is no more interesting char- 
 acter in the Senate than the president pro-tem., 
 old Isham Harris, of Tennessee. Nobody 
 knows how old he is, but he was a member of 
 Congress way back in '49, and he has a place 
 in history as the war Governor of his State. He 
 sits in the front row of the Democratic side, in 
 the seat corresponding to that formerly occu- 
 
Angles and Curves. 69 
 
 pied by Senator Edmunds among the Republi- 
 cans, and he holds something the same rela- 
 tion to his own party that Edmunds did to his 
 for many years. He has a rasping voice and 
 an aggravating aggressiveness of tone, and 
 takes a keen delight, as Edmunds did, in lash- 
 ing his party associates. Harris looks like a 
 weasel ; his head is bald, with the exception of 
 a funny fringe of white hair, which stands out 
 in a circle like a brush, and which he trains 
 into a horizontal position by continually pull- 
 ing at it with his fingers. Harris is the John 
 Randolph of the Senate, a picturesque figure, 
 bold in his methods, heartless in his thrusts, 
 and, above all, independent as air. 
 
 Call, of Florida, can empty both the floor 
 and the galleries of the Senate more quickly 
 than any other member of that body. He is 
 a great man among the Florida crackers, and 
 they have been sending him to the Senate so 
 persistently that his period of service is longer 
 than that of almost any of his fellows. But in 
 Washington Call is taken as a Senatorial joke. 
 
yo The Show at Washington. • 
 
 Senator Manderson, of Nebraska, has won 
 so brilliant a reputation in politics that his mili- 
 tary record has been almost overshadowed by- 
 it ; but he is a life-long sufferer from wounds 
 received in the war, and is racked daily by phy- 
 sical pains that would crush a less indomitable 
 spirit. Manderson was a young lawyer in Ohio 
 when the war broke out, and he was one of the 
 most dashing and brilliant soldiers that the 
 Buckeye, State contributed to the conflict. He 
 was idolized by his men, and he could lead 
 them into the most desperate situations. 
 
 His wound is in the back, and he is not 
 ashamed to acknowledge it. He received it in 
 the battle of Lovejoy's station. His men were 
 facing a tremendous fire, which was sweeping 
 through their ranks, and the youthful com- 
 mander saw them break and bend. Quick as 
 a flash he rushed in front of the line between 
 the enemy and his men, and turning his back 
 to the foe he waved his sword in the air, cheer- 
 ing and shouting to his men to re-form their 
 lines and follow him. 
 
 The company responded with enthusiasm 
 and renewed the charge, but a Rebel bullet 
 
Angles and Curves. 71 
 
 had pierced the spine of their commander and 
 carried him to the ground. 
 
 Senator Perkins, of California, has become 
 popular in his State through the simple trick of 
 asking every second or third man he meets for 
 the time of day, and setting his watch accord- 
 ingly on the spot. The compliment thus paid 
 to the timepiece of his acquaintances is always 
 amply returned. 
 
 You can't help liking "Nevada" Jones. It 
 is refreshing to find some one in public office in 
 Washington who actually believes in something 
 and believes in it with his whole heart and soul. 
 Besides there are more pith and color and orig- 
 inal suggestion in one of the silver Senator's 
 chance conversations than there are in any 
 half dozen average Congressional speeches 
 boiled down. 
 
 Jones holds the gold monometallists in great 
 contempt. He defines them in the same way 
 that "Joe" Choate defined the Mugwumps, as 
 "persons educated beyond their intellect." 
 
 He was talking with Senator Edmunds one 
 6 
 
? 2 The Shoii) at Washington. 
 
 day and was exploiting his theories with his 
 usual enthusiasm, when the icy Vermonter in- 
 terrupted him with a sneering query : 
 
 " Whom are you going to get to take your 
 money after you issue it?" 
 
 The hot-blooded Welshman bridled up. ' ' You 
 would take it for one," he responded with equal 
 disdain ; " or else you would have to tramp for 
 a living." 
 
 The most important individual in the Senate 
 unquestionably is Vilas, of Wisconsin. There 
 is nothing about which he does not appear to 
 know more than anybody else. He has con- 
 stituted himself the special guardian of the 
 Cleveland administration, and when Hoar, 
 Sherman or Frye is pouring hot shot into 
 White House policies, Vilas leans back pomp- 
 ously in his chair, with his hands crossed com- 
 placently over his waistband and a look of 
 calm superiority on his face, which tells more 
 plainly than any words of his could tell that if 
 other people knew as much about the inside 
 facts of the case as he nobody would listen to 
 such absurd speeches for a minute. 
 
 Every few minutes Vilas indulges in a con- 
 
Angles and Curves. 73 
 
 stitutional. He walks around the rear of the 
 Senate chamber with his hips thrown out and 
 his head back, very much as if he were entered 
 for a cake walk and sure to win the cake. 
 
 McCreary, of Kentucky, is a perpetual smiler. 
 His face has all the unctuousness and blandness 
 of the heathen Chinee, and his voice possesses 
 the reassuring softness of a father confessor. 
 His whole presence breathes of tolerance, 
 affable condescension and patronizing imper- 
 turbability. 
 
 You always feel that whatever happens 
 McCreary knew all about it in advance, and 
 that the only reason that he refrains from re- 
 vealing the secrets of the future is that he 
 doesn't think it worth while to make the revela- 
 tion. 
 
 McCreary is an ideal chairman of the Foreign 
 Affairs Committee. He is never flurried and 
 never hurried, and never by any chance sur- 
 prised into doing anything dramatic or sensa- 
 tional. 
 
 His colleagues in the House call him " Bar- 
 
74 The Show at Washington. 
 
 rundia " because of the part he took when that 
 international incident was up in Congress. 
 
 Edward Murphy, of New York, is the most 
 popular Senator on the Democratic side. His 
 even temper, uniform courtesy and unassum- 
 ing gentleness of manner have won for him a 
 warm place in the affections of his fellow- 
 solons. 
 
 Chandler, of New Hampshire, is, next to 
 Hoar, the most exasperating debater the 
 Democrats encounter in the Senate. They 
 never know exactly where he is going to strike, 
 and he has such a delightfully sarcastic and 
 semi-humorous way of treating subjects, which 
 are to the Democratic mind sacred, that they 
 are never in precisely the mood to answer him. 
 
 He has a way, too, of springing uncomfort- 
 able questions on the Senate, which he ap- 
 proaches with an air of innocence that dis- 
 arms complaint. 
 
 McMillin and Springer are the two most vocif- 
 erous speakers in the House. For that reason 
 
Angles and Curves. 75 
 
 they are Tom Reed's pet aversions. Richard- 
 son, of Tennessee, is a voluminous orator, but 
 Reed doesn't object especially to him. " Rich- 
 ardson talks a good deal," says the ex-Speaker, 
 "but he is a good-natured fellow, and what he 
 says doesn't make the slightest difference one 
 way or the other. Springer and McMillin are 
 different. Neither of them ever says a word 
 without subtracting from the sum of human 
 knowledge." 
 
 As rigid as New England virtue is Senator 
 Redfield Proctor, of Vermont. He has re- 
 pressed his emotions until his face seems 
 wooden, but when you look straight into his 
 eyes and see the force in their cold depths, you 
 know that he is a man who can be very angry 
 if he cannot be gay. Tall and thin, with care- 
 fully brushed coat and ministerial black neck- 
 tie, with beard well trimmed and a far-away 
 look in his eye, he does not impress one as a 
 man likely to be slapped on the back and in- 
 vited to take a drink. 
 
 Alien, of Nebraska, will never outlive the 
 reputation he gained as a long-distance orator 
 
76 The Show at Washington. 
 
 in the famous special silver session of Con- 
 gress. He is to-day pointed out frequently from 
 the galleries, while Senators who have served 
 years to his months, and who have accom- 
 plished a great deal in the way of statesman- 
 ship, promenade the floor without attracting 
 any attention whatever. 
 
 His fifteen hours' speech stamped him as a 
 man who can think with his tongue. There is 
 no member of the Senate who is better fitted 
 by nature for a physical test of this kind than 
 Allen. He is a giant in stature and in strength. 
 He would be a model for a centre rush on a 
 college football team. He is tall and he is 
 stocky. His face is smooth, with a large jaw 
 bone and a pair of flashing eyes that make him 
 look like an Indian after a visit to a hair-cut- 
 ting establishment. 
 
 He is a straightforward talker, and uses no 
 flowers of speech and no attempts at rhetoric. 
 Now, whenever he gets up to make a speech 
 the Senators look at their note-books and cal- 
 endars and figure up the time of their engage- 
 ments for the next few days before they decide 
 whether they can remain and listen to him. 
 
Angles and Curves. yy 
 
 Henry Cabot Lodge looks like a thorough- 
 bred, with his erect and well-developed form, 
 his trim legs, molded like those of an athlete, 
 and his self-possessed and graceful carriage. 
 He is always wandering around among his as- 
 sociates in the Senate, confining himself to 
 neither side. He and Aldrich are the news- 
 gatherers of the Senate. They are better ac- 
 quainted than any others with what is going 
 on or likely to happen. 
 
 The Massachusetts Senator is the literary 
 member of the Senate. Not a month passes 
 without something from his pen in a syndicate 
 or a magazine, and in addition to all this he 
 has written two books since he has been in 
 Congress. His mind works with the regularity 
 of a clock. As soon as he has determined to 
 prepare a speech or write an article he sets to 
 work on it at once. After a day or two of cogi- 
 tation he will write or dictate the article at a 
 stretch, frequently sitting down to his desk in 
 evening dress, after returning from a dinner or 
 a reception, and writing by himself till long 
 after midnight. His capacity for mental labor 
 is inexhaustible. 
 
yS The Show at Washington. 
 
 John Sherman grows to look more and more 
 like his military brother, the late William Te- 
 cumseh, every year. The lines in the strong 
 face have grown harder, the impressive coun- 
 tenance has become more grizzled, and the 
 closely-cropped beard has developed a harsh 
 and military preciseness. 
 
 Sherman is, in many respects, the most strik- 
 ing figure in the Senate. He is certainly the 
 Senator most widely known, both at home and 
 abroad, and he is the one man to whom the 
 visitor turns without a mental inquiry as to 
 what he is or what he has done. He is a con- 
 stant attendant on the floor. His place, in 
 the King Row, is the most conspicuous on the 
 Republican side, and his gaunt but wiry figure, 
 full of impressiveness and a certain grace of 
 strength, easily attracts the eye. His dress is 
 always the same — an old-fashioned black frock 
 coat, a low-cut vest, displaying an expanse of 
 shirt front, and a black tie encircling his high 
 collar in a bow. He usually leans far back in 
 his chair, with one arm thrown carelessly over 
 the back, and rarely indulges in conversation 
 with anybody, although Hoar and Manderson 
 sit on either side. 
 
Angles and Curves. 79 
 
 Sherman is not popular in the Senate. He 
 is too self-centred, and some think too selfish ; 
 but there is no Senator for whom his colleagues 
 have such unbounded respect. 
 
AT THE TABLE AND AT THE BAR. 
 
 THE most scientific drinker in the Senate is 
 "Joe " Blackburn. The Kentuckian can 
 flavor a fine brand of whiskey through several 
 thicknesses of wall, and it is a long time since 
 any of his colleagues have attempted to smug- 
 gle a choice variety into the Capitol without 
 giving Blackburn a chance to sample it. 
 
 The last man who tried to do it was Coke, 
 of Texas, who is a little " close " by nature. 
 Coke has a way of sending down to Kentucky 
 for his whiskey. He knows just where to go 
 for his favorite brand, and every little while he 
 receives an installment of five two-gallon jugs 
 of "Old Jordan." He fills a half-pint flask 
 every morning and takes it up to the Senate. 
 
 At first he used to deposit it for safe keeping 
 on the top shelf in the cloak-room, whither he 
 would occasionally invite a colleague to come 
 and share it, on the pledge not to reveal its 
 whereabouts. He was especially careful to 
 So 
 
At the Table and at the Bar. 81 
 
 keep it concealed from Blackburn, but it was 
 not many days before the Kentuckian began 
 to scent the unmistakable odor, and, reaching 
 his hand to the shelf, he came across the flask. 
 It took only a day or two for Coke to dis- 
 cover, from the appearance of the flask, that 
 Blackburn had found out his hiding-place, and 
 he quietly removed his treasure and deposited 
 it in his pocket, where he still continues to 
 carry it out of harm's way. 
 
 Immediately after one of the late Senator 
 Beck's speeches an admirer sent him a barrel 
 of Bourbon. Of course, the first thing he did 
 was to send for "Joe " Blackburn to help drink 
 it up. The invitation was promptly accepted. 
 As soon as Blackburn had taken the first sip 
 of the whiskey he smacked his lips, and, after 
 taking another, said, as much to himself as to 
 Beck: "Yes, there is certainly iron in the 
 barrel." 
 
 "What is that you say, 'Joe'?" asked the 
 senior Senator. 
 
 " I said there was iron in that barrel." 
 
 Beck poured out a glass, and, after tasting 
 
82 The Show at Washington. 
 
 it, shook his head wisely and said : " No, there 
 is no iron in that barrel, but there is leather." 
 
 A hot dispute followed, and finally a heavy 
 wager was made, to be decided when the barrel 
 should be empty. This happened in about 
 two months, but the bet was declared off as 
 both were right. 
 
 When the head of the barrel was knocked 
 in a carpet tack with a leather head was found 
 in the bottom. 
 
 Blackburn says that the Indians have the 
 most extraordinary taste for whiskey of any 
 class of men he ever came in contact with. 
 He tells this story to prove it : 
 
 He was travelling alone through Indian 
 Territory in a not very thickly populated sec- 
 tion, and, although he started with a generous 
 quantity of liquor, the supply, with the excep- 
 tion of a single quart flask, became exhausted. 
 While in this condition he met a Cherokee 
 Indian, a very intelligent fellow, who asked 
 him to extend the usual courtesies to a fellow- 
 traveller. 
 
 The courtesies were promptly extended, and, 
 as the brand was the finest Kentucky, the Sen- 
 
At the Table and at the Bar. 83 
 
 ator was hardly surprised when the Indian, who 
 was mounted on a beautiful horse, eagerly 
 offered him five dollars for the remainder of 
 his bottle. The offer was declined, whereupon 
 the Indian offered his saddle, his bridle, and 
 finally his horse ; but all without avail. 
 
 "Did you ever hear of a thirst like that?" 
 the Senator inquired of the friend to whom he 
 told the story. 
 
 "Why didn't you take the offer, Joe?" was 
 asked. 
 
 "Great heavens, man!" exclaimed Black- 
 burn, "it was the last bottle I had on earth !" 
 
 A favorite Texas tipple is what is known as 
 the "long toddy," consisting of two-thirds 
 water and one-third whiskey, with a plentiful 
 supply of sugar. This is Coke's preference, 
 and it is the mixture that the Texas Congress- 
 men usually indulge in. 
 
 Roger Q. Mills has a fondness for beer. 
 And this appetite attacks him at unexpected 
 and at sometimes inconvenient moments. He 
 
84 The Show at Washington. 
 
 was sitting up toiling with a tariff argument 
 one summer night, and after midnight his 
 longing for beer suddenly came upon him. 
 
 Clapping his broad-brimmed hat on his head 
 he swung out into the street without a thought 
 of the lateness of the hour, and rushing up to 
 the first door which looked inviting he was as- 
 tonished to find it locked. He sprang back in 
 surprise, and tried three or four others with 
 the same result. Just then he spied a police- 
 man. 
 
 "My friend," he exclaimed, "isn't there a 
 place in this town where a man can get a glass 
 of beer ?" 
 
 " Well, everything is shut up at this time of 
 the night," replied the policeman, with a grin ; 
 "but I guess if you are smart you can get it." 
 
 The Senator continued his search, and was 
 about giving up when he ran across a ragged 
 individual who displayed a tell-tale nose. 
 
 "You are the fellow I want," thought the 
 shrewd Texan, and within two minutes after he 
 had hailed the ruddy-nosed gentleman he had 
 discovered a place to satisfy his thirst and that 
 of his new-found friend. 
 
At the Table and at the Bar. 85 
 
 The New York and New England Senators 
 are among the most abstemious. Gallinger 
 maintains an elegant coolness in summer by- 
 sipping iced coffee. On exceptionally hot days 
 he seems to find additional relief in tilting his 
 chair back and putting his feet on the table. 
 "Joe" Hawley and Piatt, of Connecticut, try 
 to make each other happy by gazing into each 
 other's eyes over glasses of soda lemonade. 
 Hoar relies for stimulants on tea and Aldrich 
 frequently joins Allison in a bowl of bread and 
 milk. 
 
 Wolcott, of Colorado, and Hale, of Maine, 
 possess two of the most delicate palates in the 
 Senate, and neither of them forgets the admo- 
 nition of the old Irish gentlewoman who in- 
 structed her son that it was as bad form to 
 drink wine before six o'clock as it was to 
 appear in a dress suit. 
 
 Senator Vest's taste runs to apollinaris, and 
 none of his fellow-Senators are apt to offer the 
 little Missourian anything more sparkling. It 
 wasn't so with him ten years ago, but he under- 
 stands himself better now. 
 
86 The Show at Washington. 
 
 Another Senator whose tastes run apollinaris- 
 ward is Frye, and still another is Gorman. 
 Gorman mixes his apollinaris with lemonade, 
 but never with anything more exhilarating, 
 unless, as a measure of courtesy, he tinges a 
 glass with the faintest hue of whiskey. 
 
 Hill sips a glass of plain Potomac water with 
 a simple lunch, all by himself as a rule, at a 
 little round table in the corner of an inner 
 room. Morrill loves a bowl of bread and milk, 
 and so does Proctor ; and another Senator who 
 rarely squanders more than fifteen cents on his 
 midday lunch is the many-times millionaire, 
 Mitchell, of Wisconsin. 
 
 He can be seen in the restaurant on days 
 when his wife is giving a magnificent luncheon, 
 costing hundreds of dollars, with a piece of 
 apple pie before him and a glass of milk at his 
 side. He is as simple in his tastes as Peffer, 
 who tucks his goat-like beard under a napkin 
 as he solemnly imbibes his coffee. 
 
 Over in the House there are comparatively 
 few who indulge in intoxicants to any extent. 
 
At the Table and at the Bar. 87 
 
 Tom Reed saunters over to the Senate daily 
 and keeps cool and good-natured on soda 
 lemonade with his friend Lodge. Probably 
 these two men dine out more frequently than 
 any other men in Congress. But it is a rare 
 thing for either of them to take wine. 
 
 " Tim " Campbell, of New York, probably 
 has the most picturesque taste in liquors of 
 anybody in either branch. It is rather singular 
 that almost without exception the professional 
 humorists of the House are either total ab- 
 stainers or very nearly so. 
 
 "Private" John Allen fills in the moments, 
 when he is not telling stories, by imbibing 
 harmless seltzer. Asher Caruth, in spite of 
 being about the most popular man in Ken- 
 tucky, looks on whiskey as poison, and keeps 
 his spirits high with ginger ale. 
 
 "Silver Dollar" Bland rises to the height 
 of a bottle of beer about once a week. Breckin- 
 ridge, the Kentucky silver tongue, is practically 
 a total abstainer, and the only thing he takes 
 
88 The Show at Washington. 
 
 from a cup when speaking is the genuine arti- 
 cle of cold coffee. 
 
 Bryan is another apollinaris man. His father 
 was a preacher and a judge out in Illinois who 
 used to open court with prayer, and the youth- 
 ful Congressman takes after him. 
 
 Bynum keeps himself in good condition with 
 an occasional toddy or beer, and Catchings 
 does the same. Crisp comes from a prohibi- 
 tion district. He never has anything sent up 
 to the Speaker's room except iced tea. McMillin 
 is nearly as abstemious, and Springer has a 
 weakness for lemonade. 
 
 But the most exemplary delegation in Con- 
 gress since Milliken took the pledge is that 
 from Maine. Dingley is the model of the 
 House. 
 
 Gen. "Joe" Wheeler, of Alabama, learned 
 a trick at West Point which has always clung 
 to him. He rarely drinks even as much as a 
 glass of apollinaris during the day, but every 
 night just before he goes to bed he opens a 
 bottle of beer, stirs in a little salt as he pours 
 it out and then sleeps like a top. 
 
At the Table and at the Bar. 89 
 
 The Senate restaurant is an interesting spot, 
 although very quiet. The monotony of the 
 lunch hour is now and then broken by a swarthy 
 waiter yelling at the top of his voice, " One 
 twenty- five-cent cigar for Senator Lodge and 
 two five-cent cigars for Senator Berry, of Ar- 
 kansas." The Senators dine in an exclusive 
 and hearty fashion. Their idiosyncrasies in 
 eating are as marked as their idiosyncrasies of 
 debate. 
 
 Palmer, of Illinois, a bluff, hearty, gray- 
 headed man of nearly seventy years, is an 
 advocate of the beef-steak. There is a huski- 
 ness in his throat which speaks of rich and 
 dripping gravies. A French fried potato man, 
 a sound diner and a hearty drinker, for Palmer 
 is a man of the people. 
 
 A different man in the matter of feeding, an 
 educated man as the restaurant keeper esteems 
 him, a man with the French terms of the menu 
 on the tip of his tongue, is Senator Manderson, 
 of Nebraska. He is as select in his choice of 
 the morsels which he swallows as the bird of 
 
9° The Show at Washington. 
 
 paradise, which is supposed to live upon the 
 dew that rests in the cup of the South Ameri- 
 can flower. 
 
 No whiskey for Mr. Manderson, nor any- 
 thing so crude as brandy, but the heaviest and 
 mellowest of French wines are his delight. 
 Chablis, the products of the rich slopes of Bur- 
 gundy, and Chateau Yquem are all in his rep- 
 ertoire. 
 
 A very delicate eater is Manderson, a man 
 who insists upon prompt attendance, a man 
 upon the best terms with all the waiters in the 
 restaurant. 
 
 The most liberal Senator to tip is Wolcott. 
 He always gives the waiter at least fifty cents 
 and sometimes a dollar. Hill and Murphy are 
 free with their money in this way also, as is 
 Mitchell, of Oregon. 
 
 Senator Lodge has a weakness for broiled 
 ham, and usually he takes poached eggs with 
 it. McMillan, of Michigan, would like to have 
 reed birds all the year round, while Senator 
 Cameron lives on fish. 
 
At the Table and at the Bar. 91 
 
 There are other Senators who are interesting 
 eaters— Hill, a devotee at the shrine of the 
 salad ; White, of Louisiana, who received his 
 gastronomic education in the dim and delight- 
 ful semi-submerged cafes of New Orleans; 
 White, of California, a believer in the virtue of 
 the pompano, to be caught in the sunny south- 
 ern bays of his State, and a considerable advo- 
 cate of the Olympian oyster, a shell fish raked 
 from the sandy shallows which stretch to the 
 westward of the little city of Olympia, nestling 
 upon the shores of Puget sound; Pasco, a 
 sheep's-head and broiled bacon man ; Davis, 
 of Minnesota, who believes that pork is the 
 meat of the gods, and insists upon the sweet 
 potato as an eternal condiment; Frye, of 
 Maine, a fish eater and water drinker ; Ran- 
 som, of North Carolina, who eschews both fish 
 and water ; and, last of all, George, of Missis- 
 sippi, who so far as the records of the Senate 
 restaurant show, never eats at all. 
 
NINE BLACK BUNDLES OF LAW. 
 
 CHIEF JUSTICE FULLER is as democratic 
 in his habits as any briefless police court 
 lawyer in Washington. He usually walks to 
 the Capitol, or else rides contentedly in a street 
 car ; and it is a common thing to see him sit- 
 ting in one corner of an F street horse car in 
 the morning on his way to the Supreme Court 
 room, carrying a big pile of law books in his 
 lap, while his colored messenger sits by his 
 side with another lapful of legal volumes. 
 
 When he travels he lugs his own satchel, 
 which is sometimes nearly half as bulky as he, 
 and there are comparatively few people who 
 recognize in the dapper little fellow the Chief 
 Justice of the United States. It is really sur- 
 prising to observe how unfamiliar the Chief 
 Justice's features are, even to some of the most 
 conspicuous public men in Washington. He 
 is something of a recluse, and many of the 
 92 
 
Nine Black Bundles of Law. 93 
 
 ablest and most widely celebrated men in Con- 
 gress have never made his acquaintance. 
 
 " Bob " Ingersoll was arguing a case once 
 before the Supreme Court. In the midst of 
 his great and eloquent effort Mr. Justice Har- 
 lan arose, a page pulled back his chair, and 
 the justice, with much dignity, it must be said, 
 walked behind the scenes. There he obtained 
 a glass of milk and a huge railroad restaurant 
 ham sandwich. Industriously, and with much 
 dignity, of course, Mr. Justice Harlan laid vig- 
 orous siege to the ham sandwich. Between 
 the mouthfuls he would peer around the corner 
 of the protecting screen to keep track of Inger- 
 soll' s talk. 
 
 In the midst of one of these movements 
 Col. Ingersoll caught sight of the justice's na- 
 turally well-developed cheeks bulging out with 
 several bunches of sandwich. The situation 
 was irresistibly funny. 
 
 Ingersoll forgot the point he was endeavor- 
 ing to make, and stopped the argument with a 
 well-developed snicker. It was several seconds 
 before the colonel recovered himself sufficiently 
 
94 The Show at Washington. 
 
 to proceed, and in the meantime Mr. Justice 
 Harlan had wiped his extensive cheeks and 
 returned to his seat, — with great dignity, of 
 course. 
 
 When George F. Edmunds is arguing a case 
 before the Supreme Court the venerable court- 
 room is transformed into a lively and interest- 
 ing place. 
 
 The vigorous old Vermonter sits within the 
 bar with his finger tips pressed meditatively 
 together and his keen eyes glancing out pierc- 
 ingly from beneath his shaggy brows, looking 
 for all the world as he used to look from his 
 coign of vantage in the front row of the Senate. 
 
 At intervals, without raising his head or 
 changing his expression, he will interject into 
 the opposing counsel's argument a startling re- 
 mark, uttered in his clear, incisive tone, usually 
 in the form of a correction or a flat contradic- 
 tion. This sort of thing generally goes on for 
 some time, after the manner of his former in- 
 terruptions in the Senate, before the Chief Jus- 
 tice summons courage to call attention to the 
 violation of the etiquette of the court. And 
 when Justice Fuller finally does so in his funny, 
 
Nine Black Bundles of Law. 95 
 
 high-pitched voice, Edmunds looks up at him 
 ferociously, and relapses into moody contem- 
 plation. 
 
 Justice Brown is the literary light of the 
 bench. His mastery of the English tongue 
 is complete, and many a well-known author 
 might learn language at his feet. He is one 
 of the best after-dinner speakers in Washing- 
 ton, is president of the University Club, and 
 around its burning logs can tell a story with the 
 best. 
 
 The giant of the be.nch is Gray. Named for 
 Horace, the poet, he carries in his shoes any- 
 where between three and four hundred pounds, 
 and has the brow of a Goldsmith and the face 
 of a Daniel O'Connell. 
 
 Harlan is the only rival in size whom Justice 
 Gray has upon the bench. His other names 
 are John Marshall, and he was named for the 
 great Chief Justice. He looks like a war chief, 
 and his black gown hangs in more awkward 
 folds than that of any of his colleagues. He 
 was a judge when he was only twenty-five 
 years old, and even then made a reputation 
 
g6 The Show at Washington. 
 
 throughout his Kentucky county for the way in 
 which he decided cases. 
 
 Justice Field has had a more adventurous 
 career than any other member of the court. 
 He was a *49er, and was one of the bravest 
 and most venturesome of the seekers after gold. 
 Almost his first experience, after arriving on 
 the Pacific coast, was to become a member of 
 the vigilance committee organized to put down 
 lawlessness. The mining camp of Marysville 
 was about as dangerous a place as there was 
 along the coast, and Field, who had a legal 
 education, was chosen by the orderly part of 
 the community to administer the laws in the 
 capacity of Alcalde of the city. 
 
 Field, instead of treating the position as that 
 of a justice of the peace,* to which it was really 
 equivalent, boldly took the administration of 
 affairs into his own hand, ruled the community 
 with a high hand, punishing crime and enforc- 
 ing police regulations, until he was relieved by 
 officers selected under the new State Constitu- 
 tion. He acted as second in two duels, and for 
 
Nine Black Bundles of Law. 97 
 
 a month his life was in peril every hour of the 
 day. 
 
 Justice Field has a relative on the court. 
 Justice Brewer is his nephew. Brewer was 
 born away off in Asia Minor in the very year 
 that his uncle Field was receiving a ribbon-tied 
 sheepskin at Williams College. He is the 
 youngest person upon the bench, and is re- 
 garded as the coming legal light. His father 
 was a missionary to Turkey, and Brewer him- 
 self gave the Yale yell in New Haven for the 
 four years ending in '56. He is now a smooth- 
 shaven individual, but tradition says that when 
 he first came to Washington from Kansas he 
 had a beard, and a handsome one. 
 
 Justice Gray was for years the bachelor of 
 the bench. He had maintained a state of single 
 blessedness so long that his friends had come 
 to regard his case as incorrigible. After he had 
 been in Washington a year or two he bethought 
 himself to build a house. It was a costly 
 structure, and he planned it all himself. But 
 when he came to move in, it was discovered 
 
98 The Show at Washington. 
 
 that the establishment did not boast a closet 
 from garret to cellar. The funny thing about 
 it was that although his house was built for a 
 bachelor's castle, the justice brought a wife to 
 preside over it before he had lived in it a year. 
 
 Justice Shiras owns the only pair of whiskers 
 upon the bench. He is slight and wiry, and in 
 his day was an athlete of no mean reputation. 
 He is a great football crank even now, and 
 something of a literary light as well, having 
 been an author before he became a judge. He 
 sits with clenched teeth when listening to coun- 
 sel from the bench. 
 
 It is a tradition of the Supreme Court that 
 the justices shall not meddle in party politics, 
 and in a general way this tradition is respected. 
 There are few of the justices, however, who do 
 not betray an occasional weakness for dabbling 
 in politics in a small way. It is not an excep- 
 tional thing for a politician who has been fore- 
 
Nine Black Bundles of Law. 99 
 
 ing a henchman for an office which requires 
 legal training to find his progress suddenly and 
 mysteriously barred. If he were to look into 
 the thing the chances are that he would dis- 
 cover that one of the Supreme Court justices 
 had interposed a suggestion to the appointing 
 officer just at a critical time. 
 
 The thing is not done in a vulgar way. A 
 timely word dropped into a Cabinet officer's ear 
 at a swell dinner or a reception is far more 
 effective than a crude and vulgar appeal for 
 political favor. It takes tact and patience, 
 however, and in some instances any amount of 
 social prestige, to bring a justice's influence to 
 bear in any particular case. 
 
 Justice Gray is a striking figure, with his 
 massive form and large bald head, and a man 
 likely to have few doubles. But there is a per- 
 son in the city, in a kind of official life, too, 
 who bears a wonderful resemblance to him. 
 This is the man who was coachman to Mr. 
 Morton during the time he was Vice-President. 
 In figure, face and head he bears a sufficiently 
 
The Show at Washington. 
 
 close resemblance to the Bay State jurist to 
 prove embarrassing to the latter at times. 
 
 Attorney-General Olney tells this story on 
 Justice Gray. Mr. Gray prefers riding to walk- 
 ing, and a carriage to a street car. When he 
 first held court in Boston he asked the United 
 States marshal to provide him with a carriage 
 to transport him from his hotel to the court and 
 back to the hotel at the end of the day's ses- 
 sion. The marshal was commendably prompt 
 and cheerful in complying with the wishes of 
 the distinguished jurist. From Boston Judge 
 Gray went to Providence to hold court. He 
 asked the United States marshal there to pro- 
 vide him with a carriage to carry him back and 
 forth. The marshal said he could not do so 
 without paying for the vehicle out of his own 
 pocket. 
 
 "Why, how's that?" exclaimed the aston- 
 ished judge. 
 
 "The department would not. allow the ac- 
 count, and I'd have to pay it," explained the 
 marshal. 
 
 " But the marshal at Boston furnished me 
 
Nine Black Bundles of Law. 101 
 
 with a carriage and had no trouble with his 
 account," expostulated Judge Gray. 
 
 " I don't see how he did it," protested the 
 Providence marshal. " I know that if I tried 
 it, that item in my accounts would be disal- 
 lowed and I would have to stand it." 
 
 " Very well," said Judge Gray. " Of course, 
 I don't want you to pay for my carriage ;" and 
 he paid for it himself, thus closing the incident 
 so far as he was concerned. 
 
 Not so with the Providence marshal. He 
 wrote to the Boston marshal and asked him 
 how he managed to have his charge for a car- 
 riage for Judge Gray's use between the hotel 
 and the court-room allowed by the department. 
 
 " Easy enough," wrote the Boston officer in 
 reply. " It's plain," he continued, " that you've 
 been marshal for but a short time. I provided 
 Judge Gray with a carriage and my accounts 
 went through the department without any 
 trouble. You see I put the item of the judge's 
 carriage under the head of ' care and transpor- 
 tation of prisoners.' " 
 
SMOKE TALKS. 
 
 SENATOR BATE, of Tennessee, never 
 smokes a cigar, « He is fond of tobacco, 
 however, and always has a piece of a cigar in 
 his mouth, but he never lights it. This habit 
 he has followed out for more than a quarter of 
 a century. It is the result of superstition. 
 
 He was a general in the war, and at that 
 time was an inveterate smoker. One afternoon 
 he and his brother were riding about a battle 
 field among the mountains of Tennessee, while 
 a kind of semi-battle was in progress. Always 
 cool in action, Bate's cigar-case was as much a 
 part of his makeup as his horse and saddle. 
 
 As the two rode along Senator (then General) 
 Bate reached for his breast pocket and took out 
 a cigar. He bit off the end with customary 
 nicety, scratched a match on the back of his 
 saddle, and settled down in his stirrups to 
 enjoy himself. 
 
 There was a shock in the air, the nameless, 
 1 02 
 
Smoke Talks. 103 
 
 indefinable stir produced by the close passage 
 of a shell or round shot, and the match within 
 two inches of the end of the weed went out. 
 Shrugging his shoulders and preparing to get 
 another light, he glanced about him. 
 
 His brother, who had been sitting on his 
 horse a little to the left and in the rear, was a 
 corpse. The ball had struck him in the chest 
 and all that Bate saw was a mixed mass of 
 dead flesh ten feet behind. The horse stood 
 unmoved. The man who was alive looked at 
 the unlighted match between his fingers. Then 
 he rode away to the rear for an ambulance. 
 When the exciting scene was all over Bate 
 found that his unlighted cigar was still between 
 his lips, where he was slowly chewing it to bits. 
 
 From that day to this he has never known 
 what it was to smoke. He says that if he 
 should light a cigar he would see. the whole sad 
 scene before him, and perhaps he regards the 
 lighting of a cigar as a desecration of his 
 brother's memory. But day after day he chews 
 on a dry cigar. 
 
 Denson, of Alabama, explains, humorously, 
 how they worked Uncle Sam at an election in 
 
 8 
 
104 The Show at Washington. 
 
 his district. The Democrats had things pretty- 
 well in hand, but when election day came 
 around they were somewhat annoyed to dis- 
 cover that a company of United States infantry 
 had appeared on the scene, with a young lieu- 
 tenant in command. 
 
 Denson perceived that it would take a little 
 diplomacy to properly handle the federal au- 
 thority, so he decided to attend to the matter 
 in person. 
 
 He went to the lieutenant, and, after extend- 
 ing the usual liquid courtesies, he asked him 
 whether he was a believer in Caucasian domi- 
 nation. The officer admitted that he was. 
 
 "Then I want to tell you," said Denson, 
 "that your presence here with soldiers may 
 mean nigger domination in this district." 
 
 The young man said he was sorry to hear 
 that, and after thinking it over for a minute he 
 asked the candidate what road the colored 
 population usually came in by to reach the 
 polls. Denson told him. 
 
 " I think we will have a fair election," said 
 the officer, and with further courtesies Denson 
 went away. 
 
 When the colored voters arrived at a con- 
 
Smoke Talks. 105 
 
 venient point on the outskirts of the town they 
 found a couple of sergeants on guard, each 
 with a keg of whiskey in his keeping and a tin 
 dipper. The heart of every voter was made 
 ijlad with a drink and a Democratic ballot was 
 handed him, with the assurance that if he came 
 back the same way at night, with two witnesses 
 to the fact that he had voted that ticket, he 
 should be given a second drink. 
 
 The scheme worked to a charm. There was 
 no distinction of color in the vote of that pre- 
 cinct, and Denson was triumphantly elected. 
 
 General. Cogswell, of Massachusetts, is one 
 of the heaviest members of the House. He 
 is also one of the shrewdest statesmen in Wash- 
 ington, and he seldom has to take an upper 
 berth in a sleeping car. 
 
 When once he discovered that he had drawn 
 an upper berth in the Pullman lottery he waited 
 until a few minutes of the time of leaving be- 
 fore boarding the train. When everybody 
 seemed to be within hearing distance the Gen- 
 eral called out to the porter and demanded to 
 
Io6 The Show at Washington. 
 
 know whether the car was new and in good 
 repair. 
 
 "The reason I want to know," he said, in a 
 loud voice, " is because I had a rough expe- 
 rience last night and night before on one of 
 your cars. They put me in an upper berth, 
 and both times it gave way in the middle of 
 the night and let me down on the man under- 
 neath. I've got an upper berth this trip and I 
 don't care to have the thing happen again. 
 You see I'm a little heavier than the ordinary 
 run and it's no joke." 
 
 The other passengers began to prick up their 
 ears and looked around. A half-dozen of them 
 asked the fat gentleman what the number of 
 his berth might be, and on his announcing it 
 the timid occupant of the berth underneath 
 proposed, with a great show of courtesy, that it 
 would be a good thing to swap, and the ex- 
 change was made with glee on both sides. 
 
 Ike Hill, the Democratic whip in the House, 
 is an expert in the dead languages. During a 
 lively scrap on the floor one day it looked for 
 a while as if the sefgeant-at-arms would be 
 
Smoke Talks. 107 
 
 called on to shake his mace in the faces of ob- 
 streperous members. Hill was very much ex- 
 cited. 
 
 " If I had this thing in charge," he exclaimed, 
 " I'd pitch them out of the window, nolens 
 volens" 
 
 "What does that mean, Ike," said Cooper, 
 of Indiana, who never saw a Latin book in his 
 life. 
 
 "Nolens volens" exclaimed the Ohio linguist, 
 with a look of great contempt, " means head 
 over heels." 
 
 " That is excellent ; I must remember that," 
 said Cooper ; and he went away entirely satis- 
 fied. 
 
 Frye and Blackburn are two of the greatest 
 chums in the Senate. The down-East radical 
 and the Kentucky fire-eater have a number of 
 manly qualities in common, and each has a 
 touch of humor in spite of a prevailing serious- 
 ness of character. 
 
 Frye delights to mimic the dialect and the 
 mannerisms of his Southern friend. He de- 
 clares that he overheard a conversation between 
 
108 The Show at Washington. 
 
 the Kentuckian and a visiting stranger in the 
 Senate lobby. The stranger asked Blackburn 
 politely whether Senator Hoar was in the 
 chamber. The Kentucky Senator replied, with 
 equal courtesy and a profound bow : 
 
 " Senator Ho' is not on de no'. He went out 
 of dat do' at half-past fo'." 
 
 Congressman McCreary tells a story of an 
 experience of his in Kentucky a good many 
 years ago. There was a great celebration in 
 one of the towns in his district over the pre- 
 sentation to the town of a fountain. The Con- 
 gressman happened to be in the place, and, of 
 course, he was invited up on the platform when 
 the speech-making began. 
 
 He hardly knew what the excitement was all 
 about, and had no idea of figuring in the per- 
 formance, but after the exercises were well 
 under way the chairman leaned over and 
 whispered that the distinguished citizen who 
 had been booked to make the speech of ac- 
 ceptance on the part of the town had been 
 taken suddenly down with a bad case of stage 
 
Smoke Talks. 109 
 
 fright, and that there was no way out of it ex- 
 cept for the Congressman to take his place. 
 
 McCreary hadn't been paying any attention 
 to what was going on, but he is equal to most 
 occasions and he promptly replied that he 
 would undertake the job if they would let him 
 manage it in his own way. 
 
 The speech of presentation was almost com- 
 pleted, and McCreary hustled a small boy down 
 to the leader of the band with a tip to start up 
 playing just as soon as he should rise to make 
 the response. 
 
 The band answered expectations fully. 
 While it was playing McCreary was making 
 his speech. He gesticulated with great vehe- 
 mence and turned an eloquent countenance to 
 his would-be auditors, but not a sound escaped 
 his lips. When the band got through he 
 stopped. 
 
 That night he sat down at His leisure and 
 wrote out a speech fit to figure in the school 
 readers. It was printed duly in the record of 
 the proceedings, and nobody ever suspected 
 that the crowd had been treated to a panto- 
 mime. 
 
no The Show at Washington. 
 
 Brookshire, of Indiana, entertained some 
 constituents one evening by taking them to a 
 symphony concert. The music palled on his 
 taste after the first number, and before the 
 concert was half through he passed the word 
 to his friends and they all got up and filed out. 
 
 When they reached the street they looked at 
 one another with hazy expressions on their 
 faces. The Hoosiers thought it a queer kind 
 of entertainment, but they hesitated to express 
 themselves for fear of offending their Congress- 
 man. 
 
 Finally one of them "mustered up courage to 
 suggest that the performance was considerably 
 different from anything to which they had been 
 accustomed at home, and asked the Congress - 
 man if that was the sort of thing he had learned 
 to like in Washington. 
 
 " Well," replied Brookshire tentatively. " It's 
 quite the thing here, and everybody talks about 
 it a good deal. That's the reason I try to en- 
 joy it. But to tell you the truth, boys," he 
 added, confidentially, " I don't think I really 
 understand any music that isn't in the English 
 language." 
 
Smoke Talks. in 
 
 Judge Lisle, the brilliant young Congressman 
 from the mountain district of Kentucky, has a 
 brother as bright as he, who is a prosperous 
 farmer at home. The farmer brother strolled 
 into the village store in Winchester one day, 
 and the local wit began to quiz him by asking 
 what he was busying himself about. 
 
 "Oh," he replied good-naturedly, "just cut- 
 ting a little corn and raising a few pigs." 
 
 "Just think of it," remarked the store- 
 keeper, teasingly; "what a difference there is 
 between members of the same family. Here 
 you are just a plain, ordinary farmer, living 
 along here raising a few pigs and cutting a little 
 corn, and there's your brother Marcus up in 
 Washington — one of the three hundred states- 
 men who are framing the laws for sixty million 
 people. Now what do you suppose Marcus is 
 doing up there while you are loafing around 
 here in Winchester ?" 
 
 "Oh," replied the farmer, with a drawl, " I 
 reckon he's roaming around like he always did, 
 just asking everybody what's it all about." 
 
 One of the characters of the House is the 
 man who is known as "Farmer" Edmunds, 
 
112 The Show at Washington. 
 
 of Virginia, and he is ever ready to tell stories 
 upon himself. 
 
 In the Fifty-first Congress Speaker Reed 
 placed him upon the Committee on the Revision 
 of the Laws, and "that rare old fellow," as the 
 Maine man alluded to the Virginian, after meet- 
 ing him, went to the Speaker and wanted to 
 know why he put a farmer on such a commit- 
 tee. But Tom Reed was equal to the occa- 
 sion. 
 
 " Mr. Edmunds," he said, in his placid 
 manner. "To be candid with you, when I got 
 nearly through my work I was compelled to 
 stick some of the new men on the Democratic 
 side in any places I had left. When I first 
 came to Congress the Speaker put me down at 
 the tail end of the Committee on Territories, 
 and I pledge you my word and honor that at 
 that time I would not have known a territory 
 if I had met one walking down Pennsylvania 
 Avenue." 
 
 The Virginian offered no further objections 
 to his committee place. 
 
 Here is another of Edmunds' stories : When 
 he was running for the upper branch of the 
 
Smoke Talks. 113 
 
 State Legislature he went upon his canvass to 
 the lower end of his district, and arrived there 
 one Saturday night. In the evening his cam- 
 paign manager said to him : " There is going 
 to be a big meeting at the church to-morrow, 
 and I think you had better put in an appear- 
 ance there. There is nothing like attending 
 service and shaking hands with the brethren 
 and sisters to obtain votes." 
 
 The candidate agreed, and the next morn- 
 ing the two set out together for the church, but 
 as the weather was warm, the road not any too 
 smooth and the horse slow of motion the two 
 politicians did not reach the sacred edifice until 
 the service had commenced. Seats were scarce, 
 and there was only room in what was known 
 as "the amen corner," where the two men 
 could not secure seats together, and were put 
 several pews apart. 
 
 They had been seated only a few moments 
 when the preacher, who seemed to be looking 
 squarely at the candidate for State Senator, on 
 whom many eyes in the congregation were 
 centred — the candidate hoped every eye was — 
 said : " Will Brother Edmunds please lead us 
 in prayer ?' ' 
 
114 The Show at Washington. 
 
 However much of a believer Mr. Edmunds 
 is in religion, he is one of those men who have 
 never prayed in public. He was consequently 
 in a dreadful state of agitation, and great drops 
 of perspiration rolled down his kindly face. But 
 he arose, feeling that it was his duty and a 
 stern campaign necessity to make a first 
 attempt. Naturally, he hesitated, and just then 
 he heard a voice behind him commencing a 
 prayer. It seemed that the brother, who sat 
 just behind him, was also named Edmunds, 
 and that he was the real man to whom the 
 speaker had spoken. 
 
 Congressman Edmunds says that he never 
 enjoyed a prayer so much in his life as the one 
 that his namesake made that day, while he sat 
 down and congratulated himself upon his 
 narrow escape. 
 
 There are too many Hendersons in Wash- 
 ington to have matters move along smoothly 
 among the different possessors of that family 
 name. There are three members of Congress 
 of the name from the States of Illinois, Iowa 
 and North Carolina. 
 
 One day Congressman Henderson, of Iowa, 
 
Smoke Talks. 115 
 
 received a letter, which read : " Get out your 
 whitewashing pail and come up to the house. 
 There is a piece of ceiling that needs your at- 
 tention right away. This time we want no fool- 
 ing about the matter, either. You have dis- 
 appointed us several times already, and this 
 time we propose to take no excuses. The 
 whitewashing must be done, and at once, and 
 you must do it." 
 
 For a time the Republican leader from Iowa 
 was non-plussed, but at last he decided that 
 the epistle had wandered from its true course, 
 and had come to him by mistake. So he 
 sealed it up, wrote upon the envelope, " Opened 
 by mistake, probably meant for Congressman 
 Henderson, of North Carolina," and sent the 
 letter back to the post-office. 
 
 The epistle was then sent to the North Caro- 
 lina Henderson, who read it in surprise, and 
 experienced the same mental emotions as did 
 his Iowa namesake. He sealed it up again, 
 and wrote upon the outside, " Opened by mis- 
 take by J. S. Henderson. Try T. J. Hender- 
 son, Congressman from Illinois." 
 
 Back the letter went to the post-office, and 
 thence to the Congressman from Illinois, but he 
 
Ii6 The Show at Washington. 
 
 decided that it was not for him, and recom- 
 mended in writing on the outside that it be sent 
 to Congressman Henderson, of Iowa. 
 
 But the post-office authorities took a hand in 
 the game at this juncture, investigated the Hen- 
 derson mystery and delivered the letter to its 
 rightful owner. This individual was a man by 
 the name of Henderson, who takes care of the 
 fires at the Capitol, does odd pieces of work at 
 different times, and makes a specialty of white- 
 washing. 
 
 A strange and important historical fact came 
 to light recently in the shape of a legend that 
 Springer, of Illinois, he of the red carnation 
 and perpetual motion, was once actually non- 
 plussed. 
 
 As the story is told, this historical event hap- 
 pened several years ago when a tariff debate 
 was on in the House. Judge Kelley, of Penn- 
 sylvania, the "father of protection," as he was 
 called, was a firm believer on the value of 
 object lessons. The subject under discussion 
 was pottery, and the Pennsylvania Congress- 
 man was teaching a lesson to the House. 
 
 Resting on his desk was a huge piece of 
 pottery, beautiful as it was big, burnished cop- 
 
Smoke Talks. 117 
 
 per in color, with delicate grape vines running 
 artistically over it. Twining his arms lovingly 
 around it, Judge Kelley began his speech. He 
 was a ponderous orator, his early experience as 
 an actor in the days when the pronunciation of 
 every syllable and every sentence was con- 
 sidered a sine qua non of elegant oratory hav- 
 ing molded his manner of speaking. 
 
 In his leisurely way he proceeded to show 
 how much the raw material in that work of art 
 cost, how much the workmanship and some 
 facts about the prices. But Mr. Springer con- 
 cluded that it would not do to let Judge Kelley 
 proceed any further with an object lesson which 
 was going to show that labor was about the 
 only thing protected when it came to pottery, 
 so he rose and pointing his finger satirically 
 toward the Pennsylvanian, sarcastically in- 
 quired : " Mr. Speaker, what is that thing ?" 
 
 The Pennsylvanian never removed his arms 
 from the artistic creation. Raising his voice 
 higher he said : " Mr. Speaker, in Il-li-noi-y 
 it would be called a spittoon ; in Pennsylvania, 
 sir, we call it a vase." 
 
 In the roar that followed Springer sat down 
 and actually wilted. 
 
IN THE SPEAKER'S EYE. 
 
 rM REED'S pen nets him from two to 
 three thousand dollars every year outside 
 his salary as a Congressman. He commands 
 his own prices, and his market is always waiting 
 for him. He is indolent by nature and indulges 
 in literary composition only when the mood is 
 on him. His moods generally depend on 
 whether he has in hand an order from one of 
 the big magazines. He has never reached the 
 stage where he is willing to sit down and write 
 a thing in cold blood on the chance of getting 
 a publisher for it. 
 
 When one of the magazines wants anything 
 from him the editor lets him know exactly what 
 is wanted, and just when it is necessary to have 
 it. Occasionally an inexperienced editor will, 
 imagine he is gaining a point by making his 
 application a month or six weeks in advance. 
 This is a needless precaution. Reed can do a 
 thing as well in a day as in a month. No 
 118 
 
In the Speakers Eye. 119 
 
 matter how long a notice may be given, he 
 puts off the work until it can no longer be 
 postponed ; then he sits down with a stenogra- 
 pher and talks right along for an hour or two, 
 and the thing is done. He thinks in epigrams, 
 and it is as easy for him to speak one or to 
 write one as it would be for another man to 
 ask the time of day. 
 
 Young Bailey, of Texas, and the learned 
 Culberson are an odd pair of chums. The 
 youthful expounder of the Constitution, the first 
 day he took his seat in Congress, selected the 
 hard-headed old lawyer for his guide, philoso- 
 pher and friend. He told him frankly what he 
 expected to do, and asked what was the best 
 course for a young man to pursue in order to 
 attract the attention of the House. 
 
 " Ride a hobby, my boy, ride a hobby !" was 
 the old judge's sententious reply, and the young 
 fellow promptly took charge of the Constitution. 
 The two have been close friends ever since. 
 They can be seen any day strolling up from the 
 Capitol to the Metropolitan hotel with their 
 frock coats and broad-brimmed felt hats, the 
 9 
 
120 The Show at Washington. 
 
 smooth boyish face of one contrasting pleas- 
 antly with the grizzled countenance of the 
 older man. 
 
 Dolliver, of Iowa, is a Congressman whom it 
 is not easy to place among the most youthful 
 members of the House, but he is only thirty- 
 five years old, and when he startled the House 
 with a splendid outburst of eloquence early in 
 the Fifty-first Congress he had hardly turned 
 his thirtieth birthday. Dolliver was a mere 
 boy of twenty-six when his name first became 
 known to the country. Blaine happened to 
 hear him speak at a political meeting during 
 the famous swing around the circle in 1884, 
 and the Maine leader was so charmed with the 
 youthful orator's dash and fervor and with the 
 brilliancy of his diction that he predicted for 
 Dolliver a distinguished political career. Dolli- 
 ver, like Cockran, courts the companionship of 
 the older and more distinguished members of 
 the House. He has already justified Blaine's 
 estimate of his powers. 
 
 Bynum, of Indiana, was a candidate for the 
 speakership in the Hoosier House of Repre- 
 
In the Speaker's Eye. 1 21 
 
 sentatives in 1883, and won the prize after a 
 close contest. There was an old fellow, named 
 Graham, from Posey county, who was serving 
 his first term, and who declined to pledge his 
 support to anybody. Bynum was very anxious 
 to get his vote and went after it. The Hoosier 
 listened to the candidate's arguments respect- 
 fully, and then blurted out : 
 
 "You're all right, Mr. Bynum. I'd just as 
 lief vote for you as any man, but I don't be- 
 lieve in this idea of electing a speaker. It 
 seems to me that every member of the House 
 ought to be allowed to do his own speaking for 
 himself." 
 
 "Dave" Henderson, of Iowa, with his fiery 
 eloquence, is one of the picturesque figures in 
 the House. He stumps around on a wooden 
 leg, which takes the place of a nimble limb 
 that went from under him at the battle of Cor- 
 inth. The wound which cost him his leg, and 
 nearly cost him his life, was not his first wound 
 or his last. He returned to the field before it 
 had fairly healed. Henderson was a boy in 
 school when the war broke out, but his Scotch 
 blood leaped to the sound of the firing on Fort 
 
The Show at Washington. 
 
 Sumter. He brought his schoolmates together, 
 made a stirring appeal, and formed on the spot 
 the nucleus of a company to go to the front. 
 He was a lieutenant temporarily in command, 
 of this company at the storming of Fort Don- 
 elson, and while joining in the charge on the 
 Rebel works he was terribly wounded in the 
 neck. He refused to give up his place, how- 
 ever, until the Union forces were in full posses- 
 sion, and then he sank to the ground com- 
 pletely exhausted from loss of blood. 
 
 Tom Reed furnished the Democrats with a 
 campaign cry in 1892, which stuck until the 
 day of election. Half a dozen members of 
 Congress were grouped about his desk one day 
 in August talking politics and trying to laugh 
 themselves cool. There were three or four 
 Democrats among the number, and Dolliver 
 jokingly taunted them on the tameness of their 
 campaign. 
 
 "The trouble with your ticket is that you 
 haven't got a catch word that hits the people," 
 he said. "The bandanna was the strongest 
 
In the Speaker's Eye. 123 
 
 thing about the ticket four years ago, and you 
 haven't got anything to take its place." 
 
 "That's so," exclaimed Catchings. "We 
 need some sort of a cry the worst way." 
 
 " But you have a cry," remonstrated Reed, 
 " and a very good one — the prophet and the 
 ballot box— both stuffed." 
 
 There is no more interesting man in the 
 House than Boutelle, of Maine. A big, hand- 
 some fellow he is, with a voice that penetrates 
 every part of the House, and an eye that com- 
 mands attention. He is the most thorough 
 and enthusiastic of Republicans, and unsparing 
 in his attacks upon the opposing party. He is 
 a good speaker, and is always listened to with 
 the greatest interest. 
 
 Boutelle has had a most interesting career. 
 His father was a New England sea captain, and 
 from him the Congressman inherited a love for 
 the sea. He started his ocean career in his 
 father's ships and continued in them for eight 
 years. Then he began a brilliant career in the 
 navy, putting down several mutinies, winning 
 repeated promotion for gallant conduct, until 
 
124 The Show at Washington. 
 
 finally he reached the highest grade which a 
 volunteer officer could then obtain in the 
 service. 
 
 After the war he gave up the sea and be- 
 came an editor. An editor he is yet, for he 
 and his brother run the Bangor Whig and 
 Courier. 
 
 The first time he ran for Congress he was 
 defeated, but not discouraged, even though he 
 ran in a Democratic district. At the next elec- 
 tion he fought still harder and was handsomely 
 elected. He has been six times nominated 
 without a dissenting voice in caucus or conven- 
 tion in the most populous district of Maine. 
 Ever since he has been in Congress he has 
 been the mainstay of the Naval Committee in 
 the House. 
 
 There is nothing regarding the navy that 
 Boutelle does not know, and successive secre- 
 taries of both parties come to him for advice 
 regarding the work of the department. Per- 
 haps a higher compliment was never paid a 
 Congressman than when, near the close of the 
 first session of the Fifty-first Congress, while 
 all hands were full of fight, the House, without 
 debate and by unanimous vote, passed a joint 
 
In the Speakers Eye. 125 
 
 resolution appropriating a plump million dollars 
 for the use of the Secretary of the Navy in pur- 
 chasing nickel ore, on Boutelle's personal state- 
 ment that he had investigated the matter and 
 that it was all right. 
 
 Every time tellers are appointed in the 
 House there is an interesting sight. A mem- 
 ber on each side of the question under dispute 
 takes his stand in front of the Speaker's desk 
 and the members file between the two men and 
 record their votes. There are two men who 
 do not do this. They are Stone, of Kentucky, 
 and Sickles, of New York. Each of these lost 
 a leg in the war and is obliged to use a crutch 
 at all times. Whenever a vote is taken by 
 tellers some member near one of them finds 
 out how he wishes to vote, then takes his 
 crutch and marches with it down to the front, 
 passing between the tellers. The vote is re- 
 corded and the crutch is taken back to its 
 owner again. 
 
 The House has a saying that " Kilgore is 
 mightier than the majority." Its truth has 
 
126 The Show at Washington. 
 
 been proved by the way in which he has de- 
 feated alone and unaided more than one meas- 
 ure which over two-thirds of the House wished 
 to have passed. His baptismal name is Con- 
 stantine Buckley Kilgore, and his every-day 
 title is the appropriate one of "Buck." 
 
 A picture of Kilgore sitting at his desk in the 
 House does not reveal his character. He has 
 a kind and almost benevolent cast of features, 
 and with his white hair and massive chin 
 whisker he looks the incarnation of charity 
 towards all and malice towards none. No 
 matter how fierce and bitter the contest that 
 is raging around his head, no matter what is 
 said about him by those on the other side, 
 there is always a good-natured but deceptive 
 smile upon his face. 
 
 One secret of Kilgore's success as a filibus- 
 terer is, that he does not know the meaning of 
 the word "tired." With a splendid frame and 
 great physical strength he never wearies, and 
 can stand his ground until he wears his oppo- 
 nents out. He has seen hard service in the 
 ranks, fighting in Mexico and along the Texas 
 border, and is an athlete of no mean ability. 
 
In the Speakers Eye. 127 
 
 Asher Caruth, of Kentucky, was the first 
 man in Washington to appear in one of the 
 suits of Kentucky tow which Tom Reed has 
 made famous as an article of summer attire. 
 The first day he put it on he strolled into Car- 
 lisle's room at the Treasury Department. Car- 
 lisle gazed at him in astonishment. " What in 
 thunder have you got on ?" he demanded. 
 
 " That is a pretty question for a Kentuckian 
 to ask," was the reply. " It's a suit of Ken- 
 tucky tow, and the beauty of it is that the 
 oftener you wash it the better it looks." 
 
 " My dear boy," said Carlisle, in a com- 
 miserating tone ; " you had better get it washed 
 again right away." 
 
 Two of the greatest chums in the House are 
 Cornish and Cadmus, of New Jersey. They 
 are generally to be seen in each other's com- 
 pany, and usually arm in arm. They lunch 
 together, dine together and spend the evenings 
 together at Chamberlin's. Each expects to be 
 Governor of New Jersey some day, and their 
 only regret is that they cannot both be Governor 
 at the same time. 
 
128 The Show at Washington. 
 
 George Washington Murray, the colored con- 
 gressman from South Carolina, has a private 
 secretary who is even blacker than he. The 
 congressman has a finer perception of the fit- 
 ness of things than many of his white asso- 
 ciates. He never condescends to travel around 
 to the departments himself on errands of his 
 constituents, but invariably sends his young 
 colored assistant with notes couched in the 
 most exuberant rhetoric. 
 
 Congressman Boutelle retails a bit of expe- 
 rience which he thinks illustrates the way 
 things go on in the Senate. When he reached 
 Boston on his way to Washington from Bangor, 
 once he wanted a carriage in a hurry to take 
 him across the city to the Old Colony station. 
 
 The first driver he hailed was going to a 
 different part of the city, and the congressman 
 turned to another who was standing not far 
 away. The cabby looked at him with cool 
 disdain. 
 
 " Didn't I see you talking to that other gen- 
 tleman just now ?" he inquired haughtily. 
 
 " Certainly," replied the congressman. 
 
In the Speakers Eye. 129 
 
 "Were you negotiating with him to carry 
 you ?" 
 
 "Of course, I was," responded the puzzled 
 and impatient representative. " What business 
 is that of your's ?" 
 
 " In that case," said the cabby, who evi- 
 dently believed that the congressman had been 
 trying to jew his companion down and pro- 
 posed to protect the dignity of the craft, " you 
 will have to get across the city as best you 
 can," and he turned coolly away. 
 
 " That," says Boutelle, when he tells the 
 story, "illustrates the famous 'senatorial court- 
 esy.' My choler was rising and I was counting 
 the minutes. Just then a herdic drove by, and 
 I hailed it. The driver drew up in spite of the 
 signals of the courteous cabby for him to drive 
 on. « Do you carry people for money ?' I de- 
 manded. 'You bet!' yelled the driver. And 
 before the other fellow could interfere I had 
 hustled my satchel into the herdic and was 
 tearing away to the station. That was • clo- 
 
 There is a remarkable similarity between 
 the craniums of Senator Hill and Speaker 
 
130 The Show at Washington. 
 
 Crisp. The two statesmen could swap hats 
 without knowing it ; their high foreheads run 
 up along the same dome-like lines, spreading 
 into expanses of baldness of equal resplend- 
 ency and extent ; their chins would fit into the 
 same mold, and so would their ears ; while it 
 would take a physiognomist to trace the lines 
 of individual character in each from a com- 
 parison of the infinitesimal variations in the 
 contour of the nose. 
 
 John DeWitt Warner, of New York, caught 
 in certain combinations of light and shadow, 
 is a perfect fac-simile of James A. Garfield. 
 
 The resemblance is so striking as to be al- 
 most ghastly. It shows especially in the side 
 face, the shape of the head and the reddish 
 color of the hair and beard. 
 
 Warner is immensely proud of the likeness, 
 and takes pains to turn the resemblance profile 
 to the observer whenever he finds himself the 
 target of a pair of eyes. 
 
« 
 
 In the Speaker's Eye. 131 
 
 Dr. Everett, of Massachusetts, and Ashbel 
 Fitch, of New York, seated themselves on a 
 divan in the Arlington lobby for a little chat. 
 
 The New York congressman was enjoying 
 his cigar as usual, and politely asked his 
 scholastic companion if he objected to smoking. 
 
 " I always reply to that question in one way," 
 responded the doctor with a little grimace, "if 
 you can stand it I can." 
 
 Speaker Crisp is an inveterate smoker, and 
 he has the reputation of puffing the cheapest 
 cigars of any member of Congress. He has a 
 way of sitting in the doorway of the Demo- 
 cratic cloak-room, enveloped in clouds of 
 smoke, while listening to speeches on the floor. 
 The members of the House have, in self-de- 
 fense, adopted the custom of giving him cigars 
 so that they can come within smelling distance 
 while he is smoking. 
 
 Tom Reed has also taken to the weed again. 
 Until the beginning of the present Congress he 
 had not touched a cigar for four years, but he 
 has suddenly gone back to his old habits, and 
 
132 The Show at Washington. 
 
 is seldom seen outside the halls of the House 
 without a fragrant Havana between his lips. 
 
 The Speaker and the ex-Speaker are almost 
 the only members of the House who respect 
 the rule forbidding smoking on the floor. 
 
 Richardson, of Tennessee, is the man whom 
 Speaker Crisp most often calls to the chair. He 
 is a Tennessee mountaineer, over six feet tall, 
 with a little tapering head, and his principal 
 distinction lies in the fact that he is the thinnest 
 man in Congress. He is an excellent specimen 
 of the poor white who has become prosperous 
 through his own exertions, and he knows just 
 enough about parliamentary law to shut off 
 debate when he sees things going the wrong 
 way. His great feature as a presiding officer is 
 the athletic way in which he pounds the desk 
 with his gavel. He shows it no mercy, and 
 has broken gavels and desks alike while he 
 has occupied the Speaker's chair. 
 
 Richardson is a Presbyterian elder, a Sunday- 
 school superintendent, an ex-candidate for the 
 ministry, and is possessed of inexhaustible 
 
In the Speaker's Eye. 133 
 
 capacity for debate on every conceivable sub- 
 ject. 
 
 Dalzell, of Pennsylvania, is as dapper as he 
 is bright. He is slight of figure, agile of motion 
 and possessed of a piercing voice which is 
 almost feminine in its compass. 
 
 He has an odd way of carrying his head, 
 slightly cocked to one side with a saucy toss, 
 like a pert young bantam spoiling for a scrim- 
 mage with the other chickens in the barnyard. 
 
 Dalzell is one of the most effective debaters 
 in the House, and he has a special faculty for 
 asking disconcerting questions. 
 
HOKE, "SHAN," STERLING AND 
 " DAN" 
 
 HOKE SMITH is the joke of the Cabinet, 
 and his appointment is regarded as a 
 sure proof that Mr. Cleveland is something of 
 a wag himself. But the gentleman from Geor- 
 gia does not consider it a joke, nor does he see 
 anything funny, in being secretary of the inte- 
 rior. He takes himself very seriously, and is 
 about the only person who does. He prides 
 himself upon the number of hours that he sits 
 at his desk, and thinks that that is the main 
 thing connected with being a Cabinet officer. 
 He insists that he is not lazy, but that all his 
 life he has labored night and day. He says 
 he likes work ; but in spite of this statement he 
 spends much of his time in loafing about the 
 hotels, sitting with his feet on the window sill 
 of the smoking-room, or leaning up against the 
 lamp post outside. He couldn't be dignified if 
 he tried ; and when he does try he is funnier 
 134 
 
Hoke, "S&an," Sterlmg and "Dan" 135 
 
 than ever. He does not waste much time in 
 sleep, and boasts that he and Napoleon could 
 get along with few hours of rest. He is very- 
 fond of quoting the words of Franklin's famous 
 maxim, "six hours of sleep for a man, seven 
 for a woman, eight for a child, nine for a fool." 
 
 Hoke thinks that he is too busy to go into 
 society, too busy to make acquaintances of that 
 sort. In one respect he is fortunate. He has 
 a constitution of iron that nothing can break 
 down. He is never sick ; everything he does 
 and everything he eats agrees with him. He 
 can run like a professional, despite his weight ; 
 can row and swim like a backwoodsman, and 
 box like a Corbett. He is the man on horse- 
 back of the administration. When the Cabi- 
 net has a meeting he rides up to the White 
 House at breakneck speed like a cow-boy, dis- 
 mounts at the door, and, as Jefferson is reputed 
 to have done at the time of his first inaugura- 
 tion, ties his horse himself. 
 
 In this way he makes himself conspicuous 
 by dashing about the streets on his big bay 
 gelding, the clanking of whose hoofs on the 
 10 
 
136 The Show at Washington. 
 
 asphalt driveway of the White House grounds 
 just before Cabinet meeting can be heard a 
 square away. When he wishes to appear dig- 
 nified he rides about in an open yellow wagon, 
 pulled by the same horse on whose back he 
 delights to exhibit himself. The horse bears 
 the name of Bucephalus, and he and the sec- 
 retary of the interior have been boon compan- 
 ions for years. They came to Washington to- 
 gether, and Bucephalus occupied an express 
 car all to himself on the trip from Atlanta, 
 while the owner contented himself with an 
 upper berth. 
 
 Mr. Smith's advice has little weight at the 
 President's council board. He is really noth- 
 ing but a big boy, and his colleagues treat him 
 as one. They like him well enough in his 
 way. He is a kind of unexpected rocket at 
 their meetings, always likely to spring up with 
 some startling and almost blood-curdling prop- 
 osition. He disagrees with the President, tells 
 him about it to his face, calls it independence, 
 and then writes about it to his paper, and has 
 it printed, with startling headlines, the next 
 
Hoke, "Shan, u Sterling and " Dan." 137 
 
 day. The President and the Cabinet humor 
 him as they would a child. In fact, every one 
 considers him harmless. 
 
 Hoke takes a pride in writing letters; he 
 works them off by the basketful. He is fond 
 of reading his own literary productions, and 
 bought the Atlanta Journal because he wanted 
 to write editorials and see them in print. He 
 used to do tariff editorials, mark them with a 
 red pencil, and send them to Mr. Cleveland ; 
 he says that is one reason why he is now a 
 member of the Cabinet. He still writes for his 
 paper, but now only about himself. He has a 
 strict order in his newspaper office that every 
 complimentary thing that is said about him 
 shall be at once reprinted ; then he sends on 
 items himself from Washington about his grow- 
 ing popularity and the immense amount of 
 work that he is doing. He treats his Cabinet 
 office as a boy would a new toy. 
 
 He is . rich, but he does not spend much 
 money. He claims that his income as the 
 
138 The Show at Washington. 
 
 silent partner of his legal firm at Atlanta is 
 three or four times the amount of his Cabinet 
 salary. He does not drink ; he does not 
 smoke. The secretaryship is the first political 
 office that he ever held, and it has caused an 
 Oliver Twist taste in his mouth for more. He 
 wants to be governor of his state; he wants 
 to be senator ; he wants to be President ; and 
 he thinks he could be President if he only lived 
 in a Northern state. 
 
 The biggest man in the Cabinet is Postmaster 
 General Bissell. For a time he and Secretary 
 Hoke Smith were rivals for this distinction, and 
 each had his supporters who loudly proclaimed 
 that their man was the heavier. But a fair 
 trial was made with the scales, and the Buffalo 
 lawyer won by twenty-two pounds over the At- 
 lanta editor. In fact, " Shan " Bissell is so 
 large, physically, that he had to have a chair 
 made especially for him. The chair that John 
 Wanamaker used was too small, and the new 
 one is mammoth in size, and has all the ap- 
 pearance of a rustic bench. 
 
Hoke, "Skan" Sterling and " Dan." 139 
 
 Mr. Bissell's pictures flatter him wonderfully. 
 On close inspection his lips are almost an inch 
 thick, and they are fearfully ungovernable. 
 His flesh is flabby ; it has the appearance of 
 having been poured on hot and cooled un- 
 evenly. But he is a good laugher, and enjoys 
 a good joke. Long before you see his eyes 
 twinkle or hear the guttural of his voice his 
 laugh shows itself around his ears, and comes 
 creeping over the top of his head in waves of 
 flesh. Like the mountain, he laughs with joy, 
 but, unlike the hills, he has none of the agility 
 of the lamb. 
 
 Bissell is the story teller of the Cabinet and 
 of the administration. A good share of the 
 time that he spends in his office is given over 
 to telling stories. The people who come to see 
 him expect it. He does not make his callers 
 come into his room in single file. The more 
 the merrier so far as he is concerned. He 
 likes crowds, and does not like solitude ; there 
 is no such thing as privacy in the postmaster- 
 general's office. If you wish to see him in 
 private you must go to his house on K Street 
 
140 The Show at Washington. 
 
 in the. evening, and you must go early, too, for 
 he does not spend much time at home. 
 
 The doors leading to his room in the post- 
 office building are always open ; if you have 
 anything to say to him you say it in the pres- 
 ence of whoever is in the room at the time. 
 But the people who go there to see him do not 
 have much to say. Mr. Bissell does the talk- 
 ing himself. He spends many hours a day 
 in his office. He is the first to arrive in the 
 morning, and he is there at night long after 
 most of the clerks have finished their work and 
 have gone home. 
 
 Mr. Bissell is too good natured to make a 
 good postmaster-general. The office requires 
 a man who will overhaul things and be firm in 
 his decisions ; he is not that kind of a man. 
 He is careless about minor matters, and has 
 an unbounded faith that things will come out 
 all right in the end anyway whether he makes 
 a mistake or not. Such a thing as worry is a 
 stranger to him. When he goes out of the 
 building at night he leaves the cares of his 
 
Hok&, "Skan" Sterling and "Dan." 141 
 
 office behind him ; he ceases to be postmaster- 
 general, and becomes a man fond of good com- 
 pany. " Old wines to drink, old songs to sing, 
 old stories to tell " is the summum bonum of his 
 existence. 
 
 The Buffalo lawyer cannot refuse a favor ; 
 he has no firmness in his makeup, and is easily 
 influenced. When he makes a decision no one 
 knows how long it will stand ; if a man comes 
 in and wants it changed it will be changed. In 
 a mild way he believes in civil service reform, 
 but in nothing are his views radical. He does 
 not want to bother himself about appointments. 
 He leaves these questions to his subordinates, 
 and lets them have their own way, unless a storm 
 of opposition compels him to take the matter 
 into his own hands. He is independent in not 
 caring what is said about him : newspaper crit- 
 icism has no effect whatever upon him ; printed 
 attacks amuse him, that is all. 
 
 Scarcely a night passes that the postmaster- 
 general is not at the White House. He stays 
 there late, too, and almost any evening can be 
 
142 The Show at Washington. 
 
 seen coming out of the .White House grounds 
 about midnight. He is quite a pedestrian for 
 all of his hundreds of pounds. He swings 
 along the streets at a rapid gait, and takes long 
 walks in the country. He likes tobacco even 
 better than he does walking, and is seldom 
 without a cigar. He has his special brand 
 manufactured expressly for him and put up in 
 dainty boxes. 
 
 The postmaster -general is not much of a 
 reader. He likes magazines better than he 
 does books, and newspapers better than all. 
 When he does take up a book it is generally 
 one on law, and his law library is one of the 
 most extensive in Washington. One of his 
 fads is to have his picture taken ; his home is 
 a regular portrait gallery of himself, taken in 
 all attitudes and at all times. He has an album 
 containing a picture of himself for every year 
 of his life, and this album and the scrap book, 
 telling of the events that went on while he was 
 at Yale, are among his most valued possessions. 
 
 J. Sterling Morton is really the best scholar 
 in the Cabinet. In fact, his mind is a curious 
 
Hoke, "Shan" Sterling and "Dan." 143 
 
 composite photograph of knowledge. He can 
 write an article in French, or drive a mowing 
 machine ; write a classical poem, or handle a 
 hoe. He speaks French and German as easily 
 as he does English ; he reads agricultural 
 works and books in different languages. His 
 specialty is trees, and this he is making the 
 real study of his life. He whiles away his time 
 at his desk by writing little verses, but he never 
 allows these to be printed. 
 
 He used to have a newspaper of his own, 
 and he studied law and wrote editorials at the 
 same time. His life has always been one of 
 contention. He likes politics, and can always 
 be found in the thickest of every fight. One 
 of his titles is " The stormy petrel of Nebraska 
 politics." He has always been trying to do 
 something, and usually succeeding. He has 
 stumped the state of Nebraska more times than 
 he has fingers. He has been at odds with his 
 party in his state and with its leaders. He 
 made his reputation by founding " Arbor day," 
 and this started him in the direction of the 
 study of forestry. 
 
144 The Show at Washington. 
 
 Morton's wife died about ten years ago. On 
 the tombstone he had carved also his own 
 name and the name of his sons. He showed 
 the tombstone to his sons. " If either of you," 
 said he, " does a dishonorable thing, I will 
 have his name chiselled off that stone." 
 
 You would not expect that the most exclu- 
 sive member of the Cabinet would be the man 
 who once sold newspapers upon the streets of 
 Albany ; but such is the case. " Dan " Lamont 
 is the most exclusive member of Mr. Cleve- 
 land's Cabinet. It is harder to get an opportu- 
 nity to see him than it is any of his Cabinet 
 colleagues. You can walk without reserve into 
 Gresham's room, and be sure of a hearty, 
 Western greeting; you can gossip with Car- 
 lisle over persons and things ; but you can do 
 none of these things with Lamont. There is a 
 covering of reserve about him that it is impossi- 
 ble to break through. He has a combined air 
 of business and mystery that makes familiarity 
 a stranger. 
 
 He always has the appearance of a man who 
 is too busy to talk with you, and who regards 
 
Hoke, "Shan" Sterling and "Dan." 145 
 
 it as wasting every moment of the time while 
 you are with him. He has been the confiden- 
 tial man of so many prominent men — Tilden, 
 Cleveland and the rest — and so accustomed to 
 keep their secrets locked up fast in his breast ; 
 he has repressed his feelings so long in his 
 efforts to be studiously diplomatic that natural 
 cordiality he has lost. 
 
 Lamont is the hardest man in Washington 
 to find. The war department, the White House 
 and the secretary's private residence are all 
 within shooting distance of each other, and yet 
 if a man, whom Colonel " Dan " is not partic- 
 ularly anxious to see, starts out to locate the 
 secretary he has a good three days' job before 
 him. If the anxious caller goes to the depart- 
 ment he is told that the secretary is at his resi- 
 dence ; if he goes to the residence he is told 
 that the secretary is at the department. Gener- 
 ally, he is at the White House. 
 
 Lamont is not so much a Cabinet officer as 
 he is Mr. Cleveland's confidential adviser. He 
 never was more thoroughly the President's 
 
146 The Show at Washington. 
 
 private secretary than he is to-day. He does 
 the private secretary's thinking, while Mr. 
 Thurber holds the position and attends to the 
 routine. Thurber is the clerk and Lamont the 
 secretary. Whenever there is a question in the 
 President's mind as to what should be done it 
 is to " Dan " that he turns for advice, and 
 " Dan " is always ready with a solution. 
 
 Lamont is the politician of the administra- 
 tion, and his real title is Secretary of Politics 
 and Expediency. He was put into the Cabinet 
 for this purpose. This is why he refused to be 
 postmaster-general. That office would require 
 too much attention ; he preferred the war port- 
 folio, for in that department matters drift along 
 quietly and run themselves. He is a good 
 executive officer ; that he has shown and is 
 showing ; but, above all, he is a politician, and 
 all his life has been devoted to politics. 
 
 He is the one person to whom the door of 
 the White House is never shut, and whom the 
 President is never too busy to. see. He is in 
 
Hoke, "Shan," Sterling and '" Dan." 147 
 
 daily conference with Mr. Cleveland. He does 
 not care for society, and goes out only for the 
 sake of his wife. He reads books much, but 
 he is fondest of newspapers, and retains the 
 ability of a journalist to read all the papers 
 without performing the work of actually read- 
 ing one. 
 
 He uses neither tobacco nor liquor, no mat- 
 ter what the occasion. He once said that all 
 his people were Presbyterians, and that he was 
 brought up in that faith. " And do you attend 
 a Presbyterian church in town ? " he was asked. 
 " My wife does," said he ; an answer that was 
 the fruit of twenty years of training in politics. 
 In everything, except his abundant humor, he 
 is an intensely practical man, who looks upon 
 the world as a workshop in which he has 
 enough to do to keep him busy all his life, and 
 in politics he is no less practical than in all 
 things else. 
 
TOLD AFTER ADJOURNMENT. 
 
 SENATOR VANCE, of North Carolina, is a 
 mine of picturesque anecdotes. Here is 
 one of his tales. Along early in the '40s Ashe- 
 ville was a good deal smaller place than it is 
 now, and it was away out of the beaten line of 
 travel. The only man in town who could read 
 was the postmaster, whose name was Brown. 
 The rest of the natives were entirely dependent 
 upon him for their knowledge of what was go- 
 ing on in the outside world. 
 
 The habitues of the post-office at last struck 
 on the brilliant idea of subscribing for a weekly 
 paper in common. All subscribed to the pool 
 with the exception of the postmaster, who was 
 admitted free in view of his services as reader, 
 and Brown arranged to have the old National 
 Intelligencer, of Washington, forwarded every 
 week to his address. 
 
 The newspaper was practically the only mail 
 that came to the town, and special arrange- 
 148 
 
Told After Adjournment. 1 49 
 
 ments were made to have it brought up regu- 
 larly from Salisbury, twenty miles away. When 
 the paper came in Brown would assemble the 
 members of the pool and read it to them, be- 
 ginning religiously with the announcement of 
 rates, at the top of the first column of the first 
 page, and going through to the end. On pleas- 
 ant days the neighbors didn't have a great deal 
 of time to devote to literature, and they got in 
 the habit of coming around for their news 
 rations only when the weather was too rainy 
 for outdoor work. 
 
 At this rate Brown found that he couldn't 
 keep up with the procession, and he adopted a 
 plan of reading the papers in order, forming a 
 stack, shoving the latest issue underneath and 
 taking them off the top one by one. The stock 
 kept growing on him, and to make matters 
 worse the Intelligencer increased its size about 
 that time by a couple of columns on each page. 
 Still the postmaster kept bravely on, and by 
 the time the Mexican war broke out there was 
 a stack of formidable size to attend to. 
 
 As the village depended altogether for its 
 information on these occasional readings, no- 
 
150 The Show at Washington. 
 
 body heard anything about the outbreak of the 
 war till after peace had been declared. 
 
 Then they reached the war layer of the In- 
 telligencer, and as the news began to culminate 
 in the reading the excitement grew intense. 
 There was only one thing for them to do as 
 patriotic Americans, and they promptly did it. 
 They organized a company, including every 
 man of fighting age in the town, elected Brown 
 captain, and started out bravely for the scene 
 of operations, with old flint locks in their hands 
 and badger tails in their hats. 
 
 They got as far as Salisbury before they dis- 
 covered the real state of affairs, and when they 
 found out how badly they had been cheated by 
 the postmaster they made the town so hot for 
 the poor fellow that he had to take French 
 leave. 
 
 Senator Proctor, in his quiet, homely way, is 
 one of the shrewdest business men in the 
 United States. He got his first start toward a 
 great fortune through the kind offices of Inter- 
 state Commerce Commissioner Veazey. Proc- 
 tor and Veazey were members of the same law 
 firm, at Rutland, a good many years ago. 
 
Told After Adjournment. 151 
 
 Afterward Veazey was promoted to the bench, 
 and while in that position the affairs of an in- 
 solvent marble firm in West Rutland came be- 
 fore him for adjustment. 
 
 He appointed Proctor receiver of the con- 
 cern, and Proctor managed the business so 
 skillfully that in a few months it was on a fair 
 way to a paying business. Proctor saw his 
 opportunity, formed a pool, and got the quar- 
 ries into his own hands. From that day he 
 has been piling up wealth without a break. 
 
 The senator has an apparently careless habit 
 of buying up farms. Every little while an item 
 will appear in one of the local papers to the 
 effect that he has made an addition to his agri- 
 cultural possessions, and the good people of 
 Rutland long ago learned to look for the unex- 
 pected discovery of a new marble quarry very 
 soon after one of these inexpensive farms came 
 into his hands. 
 
 Here is a story Which Benton McMillin tells 
 of Reed : During the Fifty-first Congress onQ 
 of the new Western members broke out in a 
 maiden speech that was intended to be the sen- 
 sation of the hour. It was certainly a remark- 
 11 
 
152 The Show at Washington. 
 
 abla effort. The orator strode up and down 
 the aisle, wildly swung his arms and swept 
 back his hair, and with eyes glaring and bosom 
 distended, he poured forth a torrent of wordy 
 eloquence. 
 
 The Speaker stood it as long as he could. 
 Then he beckoned the Tennesseean. " McMil- 
 lin," he said, " I am glad to have lived to this 
 hour. It has been a profitable day with me. 
 
 Before P began his oration I had never 
 
 been fully able to appreciate the beauty and 
 appropriateness of the Scriptural allusion to 
 the 'wild ass's colt."' 
 
 A good story is told of how Congressman 
 Kyle, of Mississippi, came to be elected. He 
 was but little known in his district, having 
 never had occasion to mingle much with the 
 voters, but he entered the race with four widely- 
 known, brilliant campaigners. 
 
 It was necessary for him to use all his shrewd- 
 ness. It is a very large district in territory, and 
 altogether agricultural, and as the canvass 
 opened along in May, the farmers were very 
 
Told After Adjournment. 153 
 
 busy, and did not have time to talk politics. 
 But Kyle adopted a novel plan. 
 
 He went the rounds of the district in a buggy, 
 with a big, stout negro to drive him. He went 
 right to the fields of the white voters, and driv- 
 ing up to where the sovereign was plowing, he 
 would introduce himself. Then he would make 
 the negro take hold of the plow and turn many 
 a furrow while he and the farmer took a smoke 
 under a shade tree and talked over the situa- 
 tion. 
 
 The plan worked to a charm, for the farmer 
 would talk for any length of time his work was 
 being done for him. Kyle secured the support 
 of the horny-handed voters, and was triumph- 
 antly elected. 
 
 In spite of its advertising properties, the 
 beard of Senator Peffer has its drawbacks. He 
 is a great letter writer, and likes to devote much 
 of his time in the Senate to this occupation. 
 But his famous beard is so long that it rests 
 upon his desk, and when he is engaged in 
 writing it wanders along the paper and seriously 
 interferes with his penmanship. He is com- 
 
154 The Show at Washington. 
 
 pelled to hold his beard off the desk with one 
 hand while he writes with the other. 
 
 The Democrats of McMillin's district in Ten- 
 nessee have never held another congressional 
 convention since he was first nominated, 
 eighteen years ago. No one else has ever 
 thought of competing for the nomination. 
 This practice will doubtless continue as long 
 as he wishes to represent his district in Con- 
 gress. 
 
 Down in the second row of seats in the House 
 sits a short man with a patriarchal beard and a 
 most beneficent smile, who spends most of his 
 time in writing letters. In appearance he is 
 the most harmless and peaceful of men, and it 
 is almost impossible to realize what his past 
 career has been. 
 
 This innocent-looking and insignificant- 
 appearing individual is none other than Gen- 
 eral Joseph Wheeler, the most daring cavalry- 
 rider that sat upon the saddle during the civil 
 war. At the head of a troop of Confederate 
 cavalry his name inspired fear and trembling 
 
Told After Adjournment. 155 
 
 in the hearts of the Union army. He was 
 noted for his boldness, courage and reckless- 
 ness. 
 
 He is not a great orator, and his voice in its 
 present condition would not be up to the de- 
 mands of giving commands to a troop of cavalry. 
 
 When he gets up to make a speech he is 
 almost hidden from view by a pile of reference 
 books upon his desk. He starts out bravely, 
 and for a few sentences his sentiments ring out 
 in tones that are heard to the farthest bounds 
 of the gallery. 
 
 But gradually his voice weakens, his words 
 become faint and indistinct, it is difficult for 
 him to be heard even by those around him, 
 and at last, with a final and departing squeak, 
 his voice leaves him entirely and retires to the 
 recesses of his throat. He is not easily dis- 
 couraged, however, and still continues to speak 
 when only his lips move and not a sound comes 
 forth from them. 
 
 There is a queer incident connected with the 
 election of Gibson, of Maryland, to a seat in 
 the Senate. Gibson had been a member of the 
 House during the Fifty-first Congress, and hav- 
 
156 The Show at Washington. 
 
 ing been defeated for renomination, decided 
 that he would be a candidate for the clerkship 
 of the coming Democratic House. But along 
 in the fall Senator Gorman decided that Crisp 
 must be elected Speaker, and that it would be 
 unwise, if not impossible, for the South to ob- 
 tain both the speakership and the clerkship. 
 
 So he went to Gibson, and said to him : " I 
 can't allow you to be clerk of the House, but 
 if you will withdraw from that contest I will 
 have you appointed United States Senator so 
 that you can have the honor of being a mem- 
 ber of the Senate for a short time at least."' 
 To this proposition Gibson agreed. 
 
 Governor Jackson was told to appoint him a 
 successor to Senator Wilson, who had just died, 
 and he obediently carried out Gorman's com- 
 mands. But the governor's understanding was 
 that when the State Legislature met Gibson was 
 to be retired to private life and Jackson sent to 
 the Senate. In the meantime, however, Gor- 
 man had made the discovery that Gibson was 
 a very good man for him to have around ; so 
 at the proper time he gave the necessary in- 
 structions to the Legislature that Jackson should 
 be the man to seek the seclusion of private life. 
 
Told After Adjournment. 157 
 
 It is probably the first time in the history 
 of American politics that a man has been put 
 in the United States Senate to take him out of 
 the fight for the clerkship of the House. 
 
 Bismarck still lives in the person of the Hon- 
 orable Leonidas Frederick Livingstone, of 
 Georgia, the man who organized the Peoples 
 party of the South. When he stands upon the 
 floor of the House pleading for economy and 
 denouncing the Republicans he presents an 
 exact counterpart of the pictures of the Iron 
 Chancellor addressing the Reichstag. • 
 
 His favorite expression seems to be, " Sink 
 or swim, I am in favor of this bill," and with 
 this borrowed peroration he closes all his 
 speeches. 
 
 There is a member of the present Congress 
 who has the honor of having fought with Edgar 
 Allan Poe. This man is Thomas Dunn Eng- 
 lish, of New Jersey, who was at one time the 
 intimate friend and banker of the eccentric 
 poet. One day the two had a quarrel over the 
 loan of a pistol, which culminated in Poe mak- 
 
158 The Show at Washington. 
 
 ing use of an offensive expression which Eng- 
 lish resented by a blow. A conflict followed ; 
 Poe received the worst of it, and the poet went 
 away with a bleeding face vowing revenge. 
 This is English's version of the encounter. 
 
 Congressman Edmunds, of Virginia, is very 
 fond of telling good stories on himself; but 
 there are some that are not told by him, but 
 by his friends, and the following is one of 
 them : 
 
 The rule in Virginia elections is that the 
 Democrats have two judges at each polling 
 place and the Republicans one. Halifax coun- 
 ty, the home of "Farmer" Edmunds, has a 
 tremendous negro population, and it used to 
 roll up a Republican majority of considerable 
 proportions until the present representative got 
 into active politics. When he made his first 
 race for Congress it is related that the Demo- 
 crats selected for judges of election negroes 
 who were not only unable to read, but who 
 were excessively fond of liquor. 
 
 At the largest precinct in the county a col- 
 ored man of this kind was kept well filled all 
 
Told After Adjournment. 159 
 
 day, until when the polls closed his vision was 
 in a very defective state. Edmunds, as the 
 story goes, was present to witness the counting 
 of the votes, and it was agreed to divide the 
 work so that one white man should receive the 
 ballots from the box, and another was to record ; 
 and it was arranged, without a murmur on the 
 part of the colored judge, that he was to string 
 the ballots after they had been counted, as the 
 law directs. 
 
 As he was given an extra drink, and a large 
 one, and the bottle put near his elbow, the col- 
 ored brother seemed perfectly satisfied. 
 
 The count commenced, and when nearly one 
 hundred votes had been called out for Paul C. 
 Edmunds and not more than a baker's dozen 
 for the Republican candidate, the black judge 
 said : 
 
 " Look here, gemmun. I knows Massa Ed- 
 munds is a mighty popular man in this county, 
 but it 'pears to me more votes dan dem went 
 in dat 'ere box for de 'publican candidate." 
 
 "You string !" thundered Farmer Edmunds, 
 who was standing by watching the count. 
 "That's what you agreed to do, you black 
 rascal." 
 
160 The Show at Washington. 
 
 And the black rascal strung and Edmunds 
 was elected by a rousing majority. 
 
 Handsome and popular Harry Rusk is the 
 Democratic Congressman from Baltimore, and 
 is also the chairman of the Democratic city 
 committee of that city. He says that his great- 
 est service in the latter capacity was inaugurat- 
 ing a great and needed reform in the methods 
 of voting. 
 
 In the neighborhood of some of the polling 
 places of Baltimore are slaughter houses, and 
 these the Democrats were wont to utilize to 
 carry the election for their side. They would 
 capture some wandering fellow, take him over 
 to one of the slaughter houses, dip his head in 
 one of the vats filled with blood in the yard 
 and then chase him to the polling place. 
 
 When the people who were trying to vote 
 saw the man with his head covered with blood 
 running toward them they would make their 
 escape in a hurry and forget to cast their ballots. 
 So whenever a party of Republicans were seen 
 to approach the polls the Democrats would go 
 
Told After Adjournment. 161 
 
 through the performance and prevent their 
 voting. 
 
 Rusk put a stop to all this. 
 
 Members of Congress have queer tales 
 written about them as one of the penalties 
 which they pay for greatness. Even the staid 
 and dignified senatorial representatives from 
 Vermont are not free from this official handicap. 
 
 Senator Proctor and Senator Morrill were 
 comparing notes one day. Morrill was wrath- 
 ful over the report that had made him out a 
 dead shot and a confirmed seeker after game. 
 
 "Why," said the venerable Senator from the 
 Green Mountain State, "it's so long since I 
 even had a gun in my hand that I do not 
 believe I should know the muzzle from the safe 
 end." 
 
 " That's nothing," interjected Proctor. " One 
 of the latest things I saw about me said that I 
 was an accomplished horse breaker, and there 
 was a picture supposed to represent me, decked 
 out in a swallow-tail coat and cracking a long 
 whip at a frisky horse that was dancing around 
 
1 62 The Show at Washington. 
 
 me on its hind legs like the ringmaster in a 
 circus. 
 
 " And the worst of it was that other people 
 beside myself saw the article, and it amused 
 them so that for the next few weeks my mail 
 was filled with copies of this paper picturing 
 me as a second Buffalo Bill, acrobat and horse 
 trainer. It was a terrible ordeal to go through." 
 
 Henry W. Blair, of New Hampshire, is dig- 
 nified enough now, but he relates some very 
 funny adventures through which he passed 
 during his early career as a country peda- 
 gogue. It was in a decidedly rural district that 
 he met with the most startling experience of all. 
 " It was a school that had cleaned out the last 
 teacher," he says ; " and as I was only a young 
 fellow fresh from the academy, the parents had 
 little hope that I would hold their unruly off- 
 spring in control. But I did. I was full of 
 youthful muscle and I licked every one of the 
 big fellows and had them in hand ; but that 
 was all. 
 
Told After Adjournment. 163 
 
 " There was one big Portuguese girl whom I 
 couldn't make behave. Mary Jane was too big 
 to whip, and scolding didn't have any effect 
 whatever. Finally, in despair, I told her before 
 the school that the next time she misbehaved I 
 should humiliate her before the other scholars, 
 and that she had better look out. 
 
 " I was only waiting for the next opportunity, 
 and she gave it to me pretty soon. I said : 
 ' Come to the platform.' She came. ' Sit down 
 there,' pointing to the large arm chair I usually 
 occupied. She did as I told her, and then 
 without further words I sat down in her lap, 
 pushed the chair against the wall, braced my 
 feet against the desk and went on with the class. 
 
 " The school tittered, but I was too solemn, 
 and they soon sobered down. Mary Jane 
 began to struggle and object, but I hung on. 
 She was as big as I was, and I was beginning 
 to think that she would get the better of me 
 after all until she burst into a flood of tears. 
 
 " Now I hate tears. It made me feel mean, 
 but more angry than ever. She cried to be let 
 go. I told her that when she promised to obey 
 she could, but not before. Well, the war went 
 
164 The Show at Washington. 
 
 on for over an hour. She had hysterics, but I 
 clung to my seat and kept the classes going 
 until, with a last gasp, she promised to obey, 
 and I escaped quite as delighted as she. 
 " She behaved like a saint after that." 
 
OUR MIDWAY PLAISANCE. 
 
 THE duties of a foreign minister in Wash- 
 ington are not onerous. He sends dis- 
 patches now and then to his home government, 
 and addresses communications to our own Sec- 
 retary of State from time to time. But most of 
 his energies are devoted to dancing attendance 
 on the world of society. There is any amount 
 of red tape wound tightly around the actions of 
 a foreign representative. Whatever the min- 
 ister wishes to have done by this government 
 must be transmitted through the Secretary of 
 State. If he wishes a favor of the Treasury 
 Department he goes to Secretary Gresham, who 
 refers the matter to Secretary Carlisle, and the 
 favor is granted. It would be a great breach 
 of propriety for a minister to visit the President, 
 or write directly to him on any international 
 business. The representatives of England, 
 France, Germany and Italy, however, have 
 recently been promoted to the rank of ambas- 
 
 165 
 
1 66 The Show at Washington, 
 
 sador, and, as the personal representatives of 
 their sovereigns, can enjoy a privilege which is 
 denied to all other members of the diplomatic 
 corps. 
 
 The foreign ministers in this country receive 
 better salaries from their governments than the 
 United States pays to its representatives abroad. 
 Secretaries of legations are better paid by our 
 government, though those of the United States 
 are fewer in number. Sir Julian Pauncefote, 
 the big, towering British ambassador, who 
 looks like Adam Forepaugh, of circus fame, 
 gets $30,000 a year, a superb house rent free 
 in Washington, on the only piece of land that 
 the British government owns in the United 
 States, and a liberal allowance for entertaining. 
 Our minister to Great Britain gets $17,500 an- 
 nually and has to pay his own rent. And so 
 all along the line. 
 
 Besides Great Britain the only governments 
 which own the establishments occupied by their 
 legations here are Germany and Mexico. Baron 
 Fava, the Italian Ambassador, has always re- 
 ceived $5000 a year from his home treasury 
 for house rent, but he has preferred to econo- 
 
Our Midway Plaisance. 167 
 
 mize by occupying a single room, a practice 
 which has caused, him considerable embarrass- 
 ment at home. As a rule, however, diplomats 
 are not niggardly. 
 
 Owing to the influence of republican sim- 
 plicity the diplomats stationed in Washington 
 wear their uniforms less and less every year. 
 They are obliged to put them on for dinners 
 and receptions at the White House given in 
 their honor, but everywhere else they appear 
 in ordinary evening dress. 
 
 From the aesthetic point of view this is to be 
 regretted, for their official costumes are pictur- 
 esque and handsome. That of the British 
 ambassador is especially gorgeous — of white 
 and gold, the chapeau being held under the 
 arm. The dignitary who represents China is 
 clad for ceremony in rich brocaded silks, of 
 bright yellow and crimson ; his cap adorned 
 with a huge yellow diamond. 
 
 The superb and by no means unspeakable 
 
 Turk is chiefly distinguished by his fez, while 
 
 the minister from Korea is attired in flowing 
 
 robes of white, with a hat like an exaggerated 
 12 
 
1 68 The Show at Washington. 
 
 fly trap. It must be remembered that Orientals 
 regard the wearing of the hat as a sign of re- 
 spect, and not the taking of it off. 
 
 The uniform worn by Chevalier de Tavera, 
 of the Austrian legation, far outshines them all. 
 It is a marvel of splendor and construction. 
 Tavera is a man who would attract attention 
 anywhere, with his tall figure and erect car- 
 riage. Over his black tight-fitting trousers he 
 wears high top boots of patent leather. His 
 coat is of glistening black velvet, cut in the 
 romantic style of the French emperors of long 
 ago, edged with black astrakhan, and with 
 sleeves of black brocade. The front of the 
 coat is encrusted with jewels, while the buttons 
 of gold filigree open work are set with a large 
 turquoise in the centre of each. In his hand, 
 with a practiced grace, he carries a velvet hat, in 
 shape like those worn by Spanish bull fighters, 
 ornamented with a stiff, straight, red pompon 
 of bl ack an djvhite. / ^T^ 
 
 The foreign ministers have sufficient oppor- 
 tunity to discharge their official duties, quanti- 
 
Our Midway Ptaisance. 169 
 
 ties of time to get through with the social de- 
 mand, and still find leisure to devote to num- 
 berless fads. Most of the attaches of the 
 European legations are fond of the saddle, and 
 are often to be seen with their feet in the stir- 
 rups, particularly in the hunting season. Next 
 to horseback, tennis is a favorite amusement. 
 The national American game is nowhere, and 
 it has not a devotee among the legations, prob- 
 ably because it happens to be really American. 
 But in tennis the members of the Italian, 
 French and British legations fairly revel. 
 
 The tennis court at the British legation, in 
 the rear of the red and green castle on Con- 
 necticut avenue, is never empty on a pleasant 
 day, and the most ardent devotee of all is the 
 stately British minister, whom to see in the 
 solemnity of the legation coach one would as 
 soon accuse of football as of tennis. 
 
 Nevertheless, Sir Julian Pauncefote is always 
 on hand for his afternoon game. He is a thing 
 of beauty in his tennis suit. It is always 
 strictly de rigeur. He never stoops to the 
 neglig6 shirt and rolling collar of his young 
 
170 The Show at Washington. 
 
 opponents ; he looks as if he had just emerged 
 from the hands of the haberdasher and the 
 laundryman. 
 
 White flannels fit his diplomatic British fig- 
 ure to perfection. The coat is tightly buttoned, 
 and a soft, gray, felt hat extends from corner 
 to corner of his head. His starched high collar 
 and rigid necktie cause surprise. 
 
 Sir Julian never stoops for a ball. He hits 
 the ball, puts one hand in his pocket, straightens 
 up and waits to see what happens next. Gener- 
 ally one of the youngsters among the attaches, 
 who looks dressed for such business, runs 
 around until he finds the ball in the grass. 
 When all the balls are located safely on the 
 lawn the three other players enter upon a 
 search while Sir Julian waits. 
 
 Senor Romero, the Mexican minister, has a 
 useful fad that he does not hesitate to gratify ; 
 he is especially fond of clocks. Every room 
 in the legation contains one, and it takes a 
 solid half day to wind them all up. There are 
 clocks of all kinds from nearly all the countries 
 
Our Midway Plaisance. 171 
 
 in the world, and if one of them is out of order 
 Senor Romero is always very much concerned. 
 
 The Brazilian minister gets his amusement 
 out of pictures. If Mendonca had not been a 
 diplomat he would probably have been an art- 
 ist, and he spends his leisure time in browsing 
 about among old galleries and hunting for 
 choice bits in out-of-the-way corners. 
 
 His house contains the finest collection of 
 paintings to be found in any private establish- 
 ment in Washington. It is known to many 
 art lovers, and it is the apple of Senor Men- 
 donca's eye. Every country of Europe is rep- 
 resented in this collection, which includes the 
 first painting from the brush of Corot ever 
 accorded a place on the walls of the Salon. 
 
 His son is an artist of considerable repute. 
 He has done creditable work with the brush, 
 and has a studio in the Catskills, which he oc- 
 cupies during the summer. 
 
 The Chinese legation has always been an 
 object of curiosity in Washington, and the mys- 
 terious goings on in the house which the Celes- 
 
172 The Show at Washington. 
 
 tials inhabit are a never-failing source of won- 
 der and speculation among those who are 
 denied access to the charmed precinct. All 
 sorts of tales find credence, and the more im- 
 probable they seem • from the Caucasian point 
 of view the better adapted they appear to be 
 to the peculiar Mongolian character. Here is 
 one which is said to be really true. 
 
 The monthly bills of the Washington Gas- 
 light Company are printed on paper of a pecu- 
 liar dirty yellow tint, which happens to be the 
 exact hue of the Chinese emblem of mourning. 
 The long strips are left regularly at the doors 
 of all houses in the city, and at the Chinese 
 legation along with the rest. 
 
 Just after the change in ministers the strip 
 was left as usual in the vestibule of the lega- 
 tion, and, being carried to the new minister, 
 affected him profoundly. It was evidently in- 
 tended, he thought, as a notification of some- 
 body's death, and as it was left at the legation 
 door it doubtless indicated' the bereavement of 
 some family high in official life. 
 
 The minister at once gave orders to close the 
 house. The usual instruments of mourning 
 were brought out, the shutters were drawn, and 
 
Our Midway Plaisance. - 173 
 
 passersby for the remainder of the evening 
 were regaled with a combination of curious 
 noises, such as the Chinese only know how to 
 utter when engaged in bewailing the dead. 
 
 Sir Julian Pauncefote is very careful how he 
 allows his carriages to go out of his hands to 
 be fixed and painted. He says that he was 
 warned to do this before he left England by 
 the late Sir John Crampton, who was once the 
 English minister here. While Crampton was 
 in Washington he sent his carriage to be re- 
 paired. When he went to see how the work 
 had been done he was surprised to see several 
 other carriages decorated with his coat of arms. 
 The coach maker thus explained the mystery : 
 
 "When your carriage was here," he said, 
 " some of our citizens saw it and liked the pat- 
 tern on it and reckoned they would have it 
 painted on theirs as well." 
 
 Mr. Ye, the Korean minister, is very short 
 of stature and passionately fond of the theatre, 
 which probably accounts for the dramatic char- 
 acter of this incident. His devotion to his wife 
 
174 The Show at Washington. 
 
 is very marked. He was driving with her in 
 the Smithsonian grounds one day when the 
 horses began to run. It became evident to the 
 occupants of the carriage that it was about to 
 be overturned, whereupon Mr. Ye, with great 
 self-possession, leaned quickly forward, and 
 snatching the glasses from his wife's eyes, 
 threw them out of the window. He thus saved 
 her from having the glasses broken in her eyes 
 when she was thrown out of the carriage a 
 moment later. 
 
 Senor Romero, the Mexican minister, is the 
 most popular of all the diplomats in Washing- 
 ton. He is slight of stature, of dark com- 
 plexion and at all times and on all occasions 
 of a dignified appearance. To one thing he 
 is strongly opposed, and that is the wearing of 
 a uniform. When he appears at public recep- 
 tions he dresses completely in sedate black, 
 without sign or semblance of martial trappings 
 and gewgaws which go to make up for some 
 the chief attraction of the diplomatic service. 
 
 One secret of Minister Romero's popularity 
 in Washington is the personality of Madame 
 
Our Midway Plaisance. 175 
 
 Romero, who is an American by birth. The 
 entertainments at the legation are in high favor, 
 and it was at their house that the custom of 
 giving afternoon Germans and dances was in- 
 augurated. On Madame Romero's reception 
 day as many as two thousand cards have been 
 left, not all from society people either. 
 
 One day a woman in deep mourning pre- 
 sented herself, and after paying her respects to 
 the receiving party, sat down on the stairway 
 and staid there until after the last guest had 
 departed. Then she arose and bade her hostess 
 adieu. 
 
 " Pray, excuse me," she said. " I belong in 
 Alabama, and I'm on my way home. I live 
 the life of a recluse, though before the war I 
 was gay enough. Seeing the crowds coming 
 in here to-day it occurred to me that I never 
 should see more of Washington at one look 
 than I should by coming in. So here I am." 
 
 With her usual tact Madame Romero kept 
 back the smile she felt coming, and merely 
 said: 
 
 " I am glad you enjoyed yourself. Come 
 out and get some refreshments." 
 
 Imagine the consternation of both hostess 
 
176 The Show at Washington. 
 
 and guest at the sight of a table bare as Mother 
 Hubbard's cupboard, the uninvited guests, with 
 the help of the invited, having left not a scrap 
 of food behind. The butler explained : 
 
 " They all wanted lemonade, then punch, 
 then tea from the samovar and chocolate from 
 the gold pot, and scalloped oysters, ices, glac£d 
 fruits and cakes, and some of them ate of every- 
 thing. No wonder nothing is left." 
 
 "Oh, yes!" said Madame Romero, turning 
 to the flowers on the table ; " they have not 
 taken or eaten these," and she took down great 
 bunches of American beauties and piled them 
 up on the arms of her uninvited guest. 
 
 Senor Quesada, the Argentine minister, will 
 be remembered in Washington for some time. 
 A volume might be filled with his quaint say- 
 ings and expressions of aristocratic opinions. 
 He was several years in Washington before he 
 learned enough English to make himself under- 
 stood, yet he had had several teachers. He 
 tried a new one every few months, but he de- 
 clared that he could never learn because he 
 could not find a really good teacher — that is, 
 
Our Midway Plaisance. 177 
 
 one to whom he could give his undivided at- 
 tention. 
 
 One did not answer because she was pretty ; 
 another was fascinatingly ugly; but one was 
 especially bad because her dress was a misfit 
 in the back, and so horribly cut hat it spoiled 
 what might have been a good figure, and he 
 was unable to look at the blackboard on which 
 she wrote English words for his instruction so 
 absorbed was he in contemplating her back. 
 He could not stand anything so shocking to his 
 aristocratic nerves, and so dismissed the teach- 
 er, although she was a noted instructor. 
 
 The Peruvian minister, Mr. Yrigoyen, lives 
 with his wife in a quaint bijou house. It looks 
 like a dainty doll's house, and is filled with 
 Peruvian furniture. For a long time after com- 
 ing to this country Mrs. Yrigoyen did not like 
 the United States. It is only recently that she 
 has got over her fear of a rain storm. Until 
 coming to this country she had never seen 
 rain, and the cloud-covering sky and the pat- 
 tering drops filled her with alarm. It hap- 
 pened that her husband was out during the 
 
178 The Show at Washington. 
 
 first storm she encountered — a rain storm — and 
 she, unable to speak or understand English, 
 was almost panic-stricken. 
 
 Mavroyeni Bey, the young Turkish minister, 
 aspires to be a society leader. A young host- 
 ess was issuing verbal invitations to her friends 
 for an informal five-o'clock tea at one of the 
 fashionable gatherings. The minister, over- 
 hearing her, smilingly begged that he might be 
 included in the list, and at the same time 
 called out to his secretary, who entered the 
 room : " Monsieur EfFendi, mademoiselle has 
 asked me to tea with her at five o'clock to- 
 morrow. Remember the engagement for me." 
 
 The following day the party met early in the 
 afternoon at the White House, and, upon see- 
 ing his hostess-to-be, he crossed the room, say- 
 ing : " Is it not this afternoon at five that I am 
 to have the pleasure of taking tea with you ? " 
 
 "I do not remember," was the response of 
 the young lady. " Ask your secretary." 
 
 Not long ago Washington society was being 
 discussed in all its phases over the walnuts and 
 
Our Midway Plaisance. 179 
 
 wine by a party of wits, when one of the most 
 cynical of the company capped the climax of 
 criticism by suddenly interpolating : " Wash- 
 ington society can be briefly summed up in the 
 four G's — giggle, gabble, gobble, go." 
 
 Baron Fava, the Italian ambassador, who 
 was one of the group, said that on his recent 
 trip to Italy he had been asked whether there 
 was really any difference in Americans. " Oh, 
 yes," was his reply ; " there is a difference. 
 Some are rich and some are not." 
 
 Baron A. von Saurma-Jeltsch, the new Ger- 
 man ambassador, is not only a diplomat of a 
 high order, but a student, deeply versed in 
 scientific and archaeological lore. He belongs 
 to an ancient Silesian family, and has a castle 
 on the family estate near Breslau, which he 
 keeps up and visits during his leaves of absence. 
 The large park around the castle is full of game, 
 and it affords fine fishing. The Emperor 
 William has visited the Baron there, and has 
 taken keen delight in the hunt in the adjacent 
 mountains. 
 
i So The Show at Washington. 
 
 One of the interesting things at the German 
 legation is the collection of photographs left 
 there by Mr. Von Mumm, for a long time the 
 German representative here. Von Mumm is 
 an amateur photographer of great enthusiasm 
 and much skill, and the result of his work in 
 Washington is one of the most entertaining 
 collections of up-to-date pictures to be found 
 anywhere. There are about a dozen and a 
 half large albums. One is worth a couple of 
 hundred dollars, and there are plenty of people 
 in Washington who would gladly give double 
 that sum for its contents, since it contains like- 
 nesses of numerous society belles, who, in un- 
 conventional attitudes, have been perpetuated 
 by Von Mumm's camera. 
 
 The Chinese minister is popular, especially 
 with women. He distributes gifts with a gener- 
 ous hand, and, like all the members of his lega- 
 tion, he is fond of young society girls, the 
 younger the better. At a reception one after- 
 noon his almond eyes fell upon the little viva- 
 cious, ten-year-old grand- daughter of Senator 
 Palmer. 
 
Our Midway Plaisance. 
 
 The minister immediately asked for an intro- 
 duction to the little maiden, and devoted him- 
 self to her while he remained at the reception. 
 Everybody crowded about, but all unconcerned, 
 through his interpreter, he carried on an inter- 
 esting conversation with the equally unem- 
 barrassed little girl. The grown-up ladies were 
 unnoticed by him. 
 
 Next day the minister's carriage drew up in 
 front of Senator Palmer's door and an attache 
 delivered to the child a packet containing six 
 exquisite silk handkerchiefs, embroidered in 
 the highest style of Chinese art, and two little 
 chests of the kind of tea which Chinese gods, 
 on a Chinese Olympus, make Chinese nectar of. 
 
IN THE MILLIONAIRES' CLUB. 
 
 SENATOR GALLINGER, of New Hamp- 
 shire, once had eulogies adopted upon his 
 noble character on the supposition that he was 
 dead. During his early manhood Gallinger, 
 while studying medicine in Ohio, passed his 
 leisure moments in acting as a compositor in a 
 printing office in Cleveland. He joined a 
 typographical union and became pne of its 
 leading members. 
 
 When he first came to Washington, as a 
 member of the House, he encountered one day 
 a man from Ohio whom he knew in his print- 
 ing days. The man looked at him with the 
 greatest amazement, and rubbed his eyes as if 
 he were looking upon a ghost. 
 
 He informed Mr. Gallinger that the typo- 
 graphical union to which he belonged had re- 
 ceived in some way the news of his death, and 
 had thereupon passed the most laudatory res- 
 olutions extolling his character and good 
 qualities. 
 
In the Millionaires' Club. 183 
 
 Kyle, the Alliance Senator from South 
 Dakota, has seen a varied career. While 
 studying theology at Oberlin he met a young 
 French lady, who was at college in the same 
 town. The two fell in love with each other, 
 and as soon as she completed her musical edu- 
 cation he married her. Young Kyle then 
 started out to preach. His wife followed his 
 fortunes among the Mormons of Utah, among 
 the gold diggers of Colorado and the cowboys 
 of the Western ranches. Wherever he thought 
 it was his duty to go as a missionary preacher 
 she went with him, and she was with him in 
 Aberdeen, South Dakota, where he was preach- 
 ing at the time he was elected to the Senate. 
 
 " What is your amusement ?" Senator Peffer 
 was asked. "Well," he said, negatively, "I 
 don't attend theatres, nor base ball, nor dog 
 fights, nor cock fights, nor horse races ; I don't 
 play cards, I don't play billiards." Then he 
 took in his hand as much of his fuscous 
 mahogany beard as he could grasp, and 
 added, after a minute : " I get the most real 
 fun in playing with the children in the street." 
 13 
 
184 The Show at "Washington. 
 
 Wolcott is the enfant terrible of the Senate, 
 and manages to shock the staid Senators regu- 
 larly several times a week. With his portly- 
 form, young face, and short, blonde mous- 
 tache, "Ed" Wolcott, as he is familiarly 
 called, is the wildest boy in the chamber, the 
 most independent and reckless fellow that has 
 been there in years. 
 
 True as steel, fearless as the conventional 
 wicked one himself, and absolutely without 
 caution or tact ; flowery in word and graceful 
 in gesture, he is a born orator, and can hold 
 the attention of the Senators and galleries when 
 speaking as can no one of his associates. 
 
 Wolcott has more clothes than any other 
 man in Washington. He is constantly appear- 
 ing in new garments, and the closets of his 
 residence are filled with those that he has cast 
 away. He throws his garments aside after 
 wearing them a couple of weeks or so, and 
 orders new ones. All his clothes are made by 
 a New York tailor, and his bill there runs up 
 into the thousands each twelve months. 
 
 But he and his wife are each worth millions, 
 and such trifles amount to little in his bank 
 account. 
 
In the Millionaires' Club. 185 
 
 Senator Cockrell never carries an umbrella. 
 The harder it rains the better he likes it. 
 
 He simply shakes himself like a water spaniel 
 when he gets to the Capitol during a big storm, 
 and that is the end of it. 
 
 Vest presented' him with an umbrella once, 
 but the great objector has never opened it to 
 this day. 
 
 " I wonder why Vest wanted to give me that 
 thing!" he remarked, contemptuously. "Is 
 he afraid I am going to spoil ? " 
 
 Senator Hill certainly has one good charac- 
 teristic, and that is his interest in young men 
 and the manner in which he helps them along. 
 He has educated a number of boys. While he 
 was Governor a lad, named Pierce, lived with 
 him at the Executive Mansion and studied 
 medicine at his expense. The young man is 
 now practicing his profession. Hill has several 
 boys whom he is now putting through college, 
 and he spends a good-sized amount every year 
 in paying the educational expenses of those 
 who cannot pay the necessary money them- 
 selves. 
 
1 86 The Show at Washington. 
 
 There are several members of the Senate 
 who have a considerable practice before the 
 Supreme Court in addition to their duties of 
 statesmanship, and, curiously, about all these 
 Senators are from the Pacific coast. In the 
 number of cases before the Supreme Court, 
 Senator Mitchell, of Oregon, probably leads, 
 with his colleague, Senator Dolph, a close 
 second. These two Senators are invariably 
 employed on one side or the other of every 
 Oregon case that comes before the Supreme 
 Court. Wolcott, of Colorado, has argued a 
 good many cases, while Stewart, of Nevada, is 
 an expert on mining law, and has a large prac- 
 tice in that line. 
 
 Senator Dolph knows silver and all about 
 the West, but he is not up in literature. Not 
 long ago he introduced a bill for the relief of 
 a gallant Union soldier, named Private Mul- 
 vaney. Manderson went over to him, and re- 
 marked : " I am very glad that you introduced 
 that bill, Dolph. Mulvaney and I are old 
 friends." 
 
 "Is that so?" responded the Oregon states- 
 man. " I am pleased that you take an interest 
 
In the Millionaires' Club. 187 
 
 in him, and I hope that you will vote for the 
 bill. I don't know him myself, but he has 
 been highly recommended to me, and it seems 
 to be a most deserving case." 
 
 "Yes," replied the wicked Manderson, 
 " Mulvaney is the best fellow that ever lived, a 
 lively, fighting, big-hearted, lovable, humorous 
 Irishman. You will be surprised to know how 
 often I have spent the days and nights with 
 him in the camp, and how much I enjoyed it. 
 By the way," he continued, "I have another 
 friend you ought to know. His name is Kip- 
 ling — Rudyard Kipling." 
 
 "Never heard of him," said Dolph, as he 
 turned away; "but if you are going to intro- 
 duce a bill for his relief let me know. I'll help 
 you all I can." 
 
 There are very few subjects on which Senator 
 Stewart does not entertain violent opinions. He 
 used the word "intrinsic" in a peculiar sense 
 in one of his speeches, and Senator Dolph 
 ventured the suggestion that Webster did not 
 sanction such a usage. 
 
 "Webster! What Webster?" growled the 
 Senator from Nevada. 
 
The Show at Washington. 
 
 "Webster's dictionary," responded the mild- 
 mannered Dolph. 
 
 "Webster's dictionary!" repeated Stewart, 
 in a tone of profound contempt. " I never 
 want to have that book quoted to me again. 
 Why, every schoolboy in America knows that 
 it is nothing but a jumble of words." 
 
 Young Dubois, of Idaho, is making a great 
 record for himself. He looks like a boy, and 
 that makes his bright sallies and sarcastic flings 
 at some of the venerable grandmothers of the 
 Senate all the more effective. There is a West- 
 ern breeziness about him that reminds one of 
 Wolcott. 
 
 George Frisbee Hoar feels toward both of 
 them as the benevolent old gentleman felt 
 toward the boy who went about leaving bent 
 pins in the seats of available e chairs. 
 
 Senator Vance had a curious experience in 
 one of his stumping trips in his own State. He 
 
In the Millionaires* Club. 189 
 
 and a small road circus struck Wilksboro, 
 North Carolina, the same day. The proprietor 
 of the circus, with an eye to business, thought 
 that the Democratic mass meeting would inter- 
 fere with his performance. So he boldly went 
 to Vance and asked him if he would address 
 the crowd from the circus ring under the tent 
 and on top of the lion's cage, and thus com- 
 bine the two shows. 
 
 Vance thought it would be a good joke and 
 consented. So the proprietor had a clown 
 mount a chair outside the door and yell out 
 this announcement : 
 
 " Step this way, ladies and gentlemen ; here 
 is the greatest show on the face of the globe. 
 Not only is the show in itself a whole comple- 
 ment of wonders and an aggregation of talent 
 never before collected together under one 
 name, one roof, or on one stage, but it presents 
 to-night an additional feature. 
 
 "Step right up, ladies and gentlemen; do 
 not be afraid. The lions are caged and the 
 monkeys are harmless. As I have remarked, 
 we have an attraction to-night which eclipses 
 all the wonders of heaven, and sinks into utter 
 oblivion all the freaks of earth. This great 
 
190 The Show at Washington. 
 
 feature, ladies and gentlemen, is a real live 
 United States Senator, who will address the 
 crowd from the top of the lion's cage. 
 
 " Step right up. Tickets only twenty-five 
 cents. We have reduced the price one-half, 
 so that all can hear and see the great anti-civil 
 service reform Senator, Zebulon B. Vance. 
 Step up. Step up, step up, and don't be bash- 
 ful." 
 
 This announcement filled the tent. After 
 the regular show the lion's cage was drawn out 
 into the middle of the ring. A stepladder was 
 placed before it and three chairs were placed 
 on top. Then Senator Vance mounted this 
 rostrum and delivered his speech. It was a 
 great success. The people were delighted. 
 When the Senator became prosy the lion in 
 the cage below grew somewhat restless and 
 claimed the attention of the audience. 
 
 The district went heavily Democratic, and 
 all because of Vance's speech. 
 
 Vice-President Stevenson has two fads. One 
 of them is not keeping his shoes blacked. His 
 other is an unwillingness to wield the gavel. 
 
In the Millionaires' Club. 191 
 
 He has always had a horror of a gavel with a 
 regular handle, and back in the days when he 
 presided over small meetings in his own State 
 he would use his cane or umbrella iijgpreference. 
 He has carried this feeling into the Senate 
 chamber, and refuses to use the regular ivory 
 gavel which has called the Senate to order for 
 many years. Of course, in the Senate chamber 
 he cannot use an umbrella to preserve order ; 
 so he has a straight piece of ivory without a 
 handle of any kind, and with this unique piece 
 of desk furniture he pounds the sounding 
 board in front of him. 
 
 Senator Anthony Higgins, of Delaware, like 
 most people of that small State, has sporting 
 blood in his veins. He also has Scotch-Irish 
 blood, and his Scotch-Irish rather predomi- 
 nates. He has too much thrift to allow him- 
 self to be the victim of bookmakers. 
 
 Still he is very fond of the races, and attends 
 on every possible occasion. He has an unique 
 way of betting, and is his own bookmaker. 
 He picks out his horse in every race and bets 
 
192 The Show at Washington. 
 
 whatever he thinks he can afford. But the bet 
 is laid with himself. 
 
 He carries two rolls of bills, one in each of 
 his trousers#pockets. He bets from the roll in 
 his right-hand pocket against the roll in his 
 left-hand pocket, which represents the book. 
 If the horse which he has bet upon loses he 
 simply increases the roll in the left-hand pocket, 
 and vice versa. 
 
 He says he can get up just as much interest 
 and have as much fun on a race in this way as 
 if he were to bet direct with some of the book- 
 makers. 
 
 Cameron is the haughtiest man in the Senate. 
 He makes no effort to be on good terms with 
 his fellows ; he does not even want their com- 
 pany. When there is an important matter 
 under consideration on the floor, and all the 
 Senators are in their seats, he will go off and 
 sit alone in the Republican cloak-room. He is 
 very fond of his own company, and seeks it on 
 all occasions. 
 
 He troubles the Senate very seldom. The 
 most of the time that Congress is in session he 
 
In the Millionaires Club. 193 
 
 is away from Washington, and is in his seat 
 but a few days at a time. He never makes a 
 speech, and, in fact, his voice is never heard on 
 the Senate floor except in motions to adjourn. 
 This is his specialty, the making of motions to 
 adjourn. 
 
 He looks as haughty as he is, and dresses 
 his tall figure as if he were a very young man. 
 
HEARD IN THE CLOAK-ROOM. 
 
 SENATOR WOLCOTT, of Colorado, tells a 
 story of a man who, while travelling in a 
 parlor car between Omaha and Denver, fell 
 asleep and snored so loudly that every one in 
 the coach was seriously annoyed. Presently 
 an old gentleman approached the sleeper, 
 shook him, and brought him out of his slum- 
 ber with a start. 
 
 "What's the matter?" he exclaimed. 
 
 " Why, your snoring is annoying every one 
 in the car," said the old gentleman, kindly. 
 
 " How do you know I am snoring ? " queried 
 the source of the nuisance. 
 
 " Why, we can't help but hear it." 
 
 " Well, don't believe all you hear," replied 
 the stranger, and went to sleep again. 
 
 Speaker Crisp and John R. Fellows, of New 
 
 York, were talking over war times in the 
 
 Speaker's room. "I remember," said Crisp, 
 
 " that in Fort Donelson, when I was a prisoner 
 
 194 
 
Heard in the Cloak-room. 195 
 
 there, another prisoner, named Colonel Fel- 
 lows, from Arkansas, was regarded by us as a 
 great orator, and he used to make speeches to 
 us two or three times a day." 
 
 Fellows' face broke out into a smile. " I 
 was that Colonel Fellows," he said ; " and now 
 that you recall it I remember you. You were 
 a young chap about seventeen or eighteen 
 years old, were you not ? " 
 
 "Yes," said the Speaker; "and you told us 
 not to take the oath until we knew for a cer- 
 tainty that the entire Confederate army had 
 surrendered." 
 
 "I never did take the oath," was Colonel 
 Fellows' reply. " 1 held that I owed my al- 
 legiance to the Confederate government and 
 not to General Lee. I went out on parole, and 
 I never have taken the oath except as an 
 officer of the government." 
 
 The Speaker took the oath after the war, and 
 Colonel Fellows said that he had been better 
 treated by the federal government than by the 
 Mugwump Democrats. 
 
 Senator Frye, of Maine, is a great stickler 
 for the inviolability of executive secrets. When 
 
196 The Show at Washington. 
 
 Stanley Matthews' name was sent in by Pres- 
 ident Hayes for Justice of the United States 
 Supreme Court Mr. Frye was one of those who 
 declared that he would not vote for his con- 
 firmation. Finally Matthews was confirmed 
 by just one vote. There was great curiosity to 
 know just how each Senator had voted. The 
 newspaper correspondents figured out how each 
 Republican voted except Frye ; they were un- 
 able to place him. To go to him directly and 
 ask him would only be to invite a rebuff, so 
 they resorted to strategy. One of them, who 
 was a close friend of the Senator's, undertook 
 the task of surprising his secret. He went up 
 to the Senator and remarked, in the most 
 casual manner : 
 
 *' Well, Frye, you are a fine man, aren't 
 you ?" 
 
 "What's the matter?" inquired the Senator, 
 sharply. 
 
 " Why, I thought you told me that you would 
 not vote for Matthews' confirmation." 
 
 "Well, I didn't vote for him," was the in- 
 dignant reply. 
 
 " Thank you, Senator, that was all I wanted 
 
Heard in the Cloak-room. 197 
 
 to know," replied the newspaper man coolly, 
 and walked off. 
 
 Secretary Gresham plays a very smooth game 
 of poker, and it has helped him out in more 
 than one case. When Oliver P. Morton called 
 upon President Grant in the interest of a man 
 whom he wished appointed United States dis- 
 trict judge for Indiana, Grant asked: "What 
 has become of young Gresham, who was a 
 colonel as I remember him ?" 
 
 "Oh, he is practicing law in Indianapolis !" 
 said Morton. 
 
 " Well, I used to play poker with him during 
 the war," said the President ; " and I took quite 
 a liking to him. He was a mighty good, cool 
 poker player, and I believe he will make a good 
 judge. So if you don't care I will appoint him 
 to this place." 
 
 Morton did care, but he was too wise to make 
 any objection, and so Gresham got his first 
 federal appointment. 
 
 Senator Blackburn tells a good story, which 
 illustrates the eagerness of the Southern negro 
 
198 The Show at Washington. 
 
 for office. The Senator was one day informed 
 that " old Mose" had arrived from Woodford 
 County, Kentucky, and was waiting to consult 
 with him privately on " er 'portant mattah." 
 
 *' Well, Mose," began Senator Blackburn, as 
 the grinning African was ushered into his pres- 
 ence ; " what brings you to Washington ?" 
 
 " Mars' Joe," replied Mose, impressively, 
 " Fse got 'portant bus'ness, sar. I wants er 
 orfice." 
 
 "You want an office. Why, Mose, what can 
 you do?" 
 
 " Do, Mars' Joe ? What does everybody do 
 dat's got er orfice? Bless yer heart, Mars' Joe, 
 yer don't un'erstand old Mose. I hain't look- 
 in' fo' work, sah ; I only wants er orfice." 
 
 Senator Blackburn, with as much seriousness 
 as he could commamd, assured Mose that he 
 was powerless to assist him to an " orfice," but 
 that he might provide employment in some 
 private concern. Old Mose's face fell, but soon 
 brightened again. 
 
 "Well, Mars' Joe," said he, hopefully; "ef 
 ye kain't get er orfice fo' me, sah, jes' hustle 
 eroun' an' git me er pension. I ain't at all 
 'tickler, sah." 
 
Heard in the Cloak-room. 199 
 
 David B. Hill never allows himself to be 
 caught with an interview when it doesn't ex- 
 actly suit his convenience. A newspaper cor- 
 respondent, who was sent to interview him on 
 the political situation, found himself baffled, 
 for the Senator kept him a full half hour 
 without giving him a word that he could use. 
 Finally, the reporter, in desperation, said he 
 would like to ask the Senator a single question. 
 
 " That request reminds me of a story," said 
 Hill. "A genuine Yankee came into New 
 York State many years peddling tinware. He 
 met a man with one leg and the stump of an- 
 other. The peddler's curiosity was aroused at 
 once. He determined to know how that man 
 lost his leg, and, after scraping an acquaint- 
 ance, said, pointing at the remnant of a limb : 
 
 " ' Been in the war ? ' 
 
 " The one-legged man was sensitive and ret- 
 icent. His reply was simply : 
 
 " 'No.' 
 
 " The Yankee then began to talk trade, but 
 the lost leg was uppermost in his mind. Pres- 
 ently he said : 
 
 " ' Mebbe you lost it in a saw mill ? ' 
 
 " ' No ;' was again the answer. 
 14 
 
Idb The Show at Washington. 
 
 "The peddler talked trade again, all the 
 time keeping his eye on the reminder of an- 
 other leg. At last he said : 
 
 ' I'd just like to ask you one question.' 
 
 ' Only one ? ' said the man with the crutches. 
 
 ' Just a bare one.' 
 
 ' Well, go ahead.' 
 
 ' How did you lose your leg ? ' 
 
 « It was bit off.' " 
 The moral of the story and the discomfiture 
 were obvious. 
 
 Secretary Herbert tells a story about an old- 
 fashioned justice of the peace down in Ala- 
 bama. A man had been arrested, charged 
 with an attempt at murder. The justice re- 
 leased him on $1000 bond. The fellow jumped 
 his bail and disappeared. His bondsman was 
 sued in the Circuit Court for the amount of the 
 bond. He employed Philip Murphy, one of 
 the shrewdest lawyers in Alabama, to appear 
 in his behalf. Murphy discovered that the 
 bail bond had been drawn up and accepted on 
 Sunday. Upon this fact he based his defense. 
 The court-room was crowded with men who, 
 knowing Murphy's reputation, were eager to 
 
\Heard in the Cloak-room. 201 
 
 hear his argument. Among them was the old 
 justice of the peace who had accepted the bond. 
 Murphy claimed that a bond drawn up and 
 accepted on Sunday was not valid. 
 
 "Sunday," said he, "is a dies non in the 
 parlance of the law. I repeat it, your honor," 
 he shouted, addressing the court, " Sunday is a 
 dies non juridica — juridica — -juridical ' 
 
 At each repetition of the word "juridica " he 
 raised his voice until it sounded like a peal of 
 thunder. The old justice of the peace was 
 deeply impressed. To his astonishment the 
 court declared that the bond was invalid. 
 
 About a month afterward a prominent citizen 
 was brought before the same justice charged 
 with an attempt at murder. A well-known 
 lawyer was at his side. Turning to the justice, 
 he said : 
 
 " If your honor pleases, we will waive ex- 
 amination, and ask that my client be held to 
 bail to await the action of the grand jury." 
 
 "That can't be done," the justice replied. 
 " He must go to jail. I'll accept no bond." 
 
 " But, your honor," the counsel said, "you 
 have no right to refuse bail. The law requires 
 that you shall accept it." 
 
2o2 The Show at Washington. 
 
 " Not much," the justice answered. " I've 
 had one of my decisions reversed by the Circuit 
 Court, and I don't intend to give them a second 
 chance. It was just such a case as this. I 
 commit your client without bail." 
 
 "You will do nothing of the kind, your 
 honor," was the lawyer's response. "We have 
 our bonds ready, and insist that you shall 
 accept them as the law requires." 
 
 At this the gorge of the old justice arose. 
 He began to scowl at the lawyer. 
 
 " Do you think I am a dum fool," he blurted 
 out ; " and that I learn nothing from experi- 
 ence ? If I accept your bond and your client 
 runs away Phil Murphy will go up to the Circuit 
 Court, run his fingers through his hair, and 
 holler, 'Joe Ridica' three times, and the judge 
 will reverse my acceptance. No, sir; your 
 client must go to jail." 
 
 And to jail he went. 
 
 While the debate on the Wilson tariff bill 
 was proceeding in the House a daily visitor to 
 the galleries was Henry George, the famous 
 single tax theorist, He was very much in evi- 
 
Heard in the Cloak-room. 203 
 
 dence, as he occupied a front seat. His pres- 
 ence gave rise to an amusing incident in the 
 members' lobby. Just after the House had 
 voted to put all sugars on the free list, Repre- 
 sentative Sibley, of Pennsylvania, met Repre- 
 sentative "Joe" Hendrix, of Brooklyn. 
 
 " Well, this is free trade with a vengeance !" 
 said Sibley. 
 
 " Free trade nothing. It's hell !" indignantly 
 responded Hendrix. "Do you know who's 
 running things in there ?" 
 
 " Well, it seems to be the free traders just at 
 present," was Sibley's reply. 
 
 "No, it isn't the free traders in there," said 
 Hendrix ; " it's Henry George up in the gallery. 
 They run up and receive their orders and then 
 come down and carry them out. The condi- 
 tion of things reminds me of the Irishman who 
 was riding a mule. By some means the animal 
 got a hoof fast in the stirrup, observing which 
 the Irishman remarked : ' Faith, and if yez 
 are going to get in til the saddle I'll climb 
 down.' " 
 
 Secretary Gresham's manner is sometimes 
 irritable and domineering, even when he in- 
 
204 The Show at Washington. 
 
 tends to be amiable and to do a kindly act. 
 Judge Thompson, who was first assistant when 
 Gresham was Postmaster-General, gives a case 
 in point. 
 
 One day while he was talking to a news- 
 paper correspondent the Postmaster-General 
 came in. He asked what had become of the 
 case of the postal clerk arrested for embezzle- 
 ment out West. The name of the man was 
 N . 
 
 " He is held for trial," said Thompson. '* He 
 has had a preliminary examination." 
 
 "Well, I want you to telegraph the District 
 Attorney and order the case dropped," said the 
 Postmaster-General. 
 
 Thompson gasped. " That is impossible, 
 General," he said. "The matter is in the 
 hands of the District Attorney. We have noth- 
 ing more to do with it." 
 
 " But I want the case dismissed," said the 
 Postmaster-General. 
 
 " I must respectfully decline to do so," said 
 Thompson. "The evidence against the man 
 is unquestionable. He was found with a num- 
 ber of decoy letters in his pocket. There can 
 be no doubt about his guilt." 
 
Heard in the Cloak-room. 205 
 
 " I know all about that man," said Gresham, 
 impatiently. 
 
 " Then you will have to issue the order," 
 said the assistant. " I refuse to take the re- 
 sponsibility. It would be a stain on my rec- 
 ord." 
 
 " You can say that you act by the order of 
 the Postmaster-General," said Gresham. " Tel- 
 egraph the District Attorney that the Postmas- 
 ter-General instructs you to have the case 
 nolled." 
 
 Thompson could not refuse to do this, and 
 the telegram was sent. The newspaper corre- 
 spondent, who had sat quietly listening to the 
 interview, was surprised. As he left the de- 
 partment he met a reporter for a local paper, 
 who had at one time lived in Indianapolis, and 
 who had known Judge Gresham very well. His 
 
 name was also N . The correspondent 
 
 stopped N and told him what he 
 
 had heard. N turned white and then 
 
 red. 
 
 " That was my brother," he said. " I saw 
 Judge Gresham about his case yesterday, and 
 he promised to have it dismissed." 
 
2o6 The Show at Washington. 
 
 Senator Gorman is a great joker, and very- 
 fond of having his joking take a practical turn. 
 He had the tables turned on him, however, at 
 Saratoga, where he was resting and drinking 
 spring water with Senator Smith, of New Jer- 
 sey, during one of the summer months. He 
 had been playing his pranks on Smith, and 
 the Jerseyman determined to get even with 
 him. 
 
 It seems that some time before the news- 
 papers told how Senator Gorman, while in 
 Saratoga, went out every morning to play ball 
 with his son. The Maryland Senator was in 
 the habit of playing ball in the evening, but as 
 a number of people thought that he deserved 
 a great deal of credit for being an early riser, 
 he did not make any correction of the report, 
 and seemed to be very glad to have it supposed 
 that he got up with the sun. 
 
 Senator Smith ascertained that Gorman was 
 a late sleeper, and one night proposed that he 
 should join him in the game of ball the next 
 morning at five o'clock. 
 
 " All right," said Senator Gorman, who did not 
 want to give himself away. " As soon as you 
 send for me I will come over to the hotel office 
 
Heard in the Cloak-room. 207 
 
 and join you. We will then go and have a 
 game." 
 
 Instead of getting up himself the next morn- 
 ing and sending for his Maryland colleague, 
 Senator Smith left a note with the night clerk 
 of the hotel, with instructions that he should 
 send it over to Senator Gorman's room at five 
 o'clock. 
 
 The note was delivered to the Senator, and 
 he made his appearance in the hotel office 
 dressed ready for his game of ball, while the 
 New Jersey Senator was taking a deep, morn- 
 ing nap. 
 
 Senator Murphy, of New York, is a daring 
 horseman. A few years ago he entered into a 
 contest with a party of friends to drive a race 
 from Saratoga to Troy. The last person to 
 arrive in Troy was to pay for a wine dinner. 
 The distance is thirty-five miles, and the 
 gentlemen did not start from Saratoga until six 
 o'clock in the evening, so that before they ar- 
 rived at their destination it was pitch dark. 
 
 The driving just outside of Troy is very 
 dangerous, even in the daytime, and when it 
 is dark it is as much as a person's life is worth 
 
208 The Show at Washington. 
 
 to drive over some of the roads which run 
 alongside the canal and river. 
 
 On this occasion all the other contestants got 
 together and agreed that they would leave their 
 horses and buggies at one of the towns near 
 Troy and ride home on the train. Senator 
 Murphy, however, was made of sterner stuff, 
 and he continued on his drive to Troy, arriv- 
 ing there without mishap, and the only one of 
 those who started in the contest. 
 
 Last winter Murphy was still more daring as 
 a driver. He started to drive a race against 
 one of his sons on the ice down the Hudson 
 River. It was a bitterly cold day, and after 
 driving a short distance his hands became 
 numb, and he was unable to hold the reins. 
 
 The ice on the river was covered with snow, 
 and the Senator knew that he could throw 
 himself out of the sleigh on the snow without 
 any particular injury. The horse was a great 
 favorite, and he determined to remain in the 
 sleigh whatever happened. Suddenly he re- 
 membered that within less than half a mile 
 down the ice had been cut, and that if he 
 
Heard in the Cloak-room. 209 
 
 did not quickly get his horse under control the 
 animal would surely plunge into the water and 
 be drowned. 
 
 The Senator had but a minute in which to 
 try to get the blood circulating sufficiently in 
 his fingers to enable him to move them. By 
 squeezing his hands between his knees he suc- 
 ceeded in getting some control of his fingers. 
 
 Just as the horse was within a few feet of the 
 ice-cut the Senator succeeded in wrapping the 
 right rein about his body, and by giving a quick 
 turn he jerked the animal aside in time to avoid 
 plunging into the river by a margin of only a 
 few feet. 
 
 Senator Gray, of Delaware, spent part of last 
 summer abroad. Mrs. Gray accompanied him. 
 
 On a steamboat on Lake Lucerne he en- 
 countered Senator Vance. The North Caro- 
 lina Senator came up behind him as he stood 
 near the rail by the side of Mrs. Gray, and, 
 touching him on the shoulder, greeted him cor- 
 dially. When the usual greetings had passed 
 between them, Senator Vance asked : 
 
 " Well, as Sandy said, are you travelling for 
 pleasure, or is the good wife along ? " 
 
210 The Show at Washington. 
 
 Senator Jones, of Nevada, in his delightful 
 way illustrates with a story the difficulty which 
 some of his fellow-Senators experience in ex- 
 plaining their sudden conversion from life-long 
 advocacy of free silver coinage to gold mono- 
 metallism. The Senator related the story dur- 
 ing the special session of Congress when the 
 administration was trying to force through the 
 repeal of the purchasing clause of the Sherman 
 law. 
 
 In a New England village there lived a 
 drunken horse jockey, who had a hare lip and 
 was born without a palate, and who was nat- 
 urally very sensitive as to his deformity. His 
 name was Tilman Tremble, and one winter 
 there was a great revival, in the course of 
 which Tremble was brought to the mourner's 
 bench. 
 
 His groans and physical symptoms of an 
 awakened conscience were terrible to witness. 
 Finally a calmer mood prevailed, and it was 
 announced that Brother Tremble would speak 
 at the Wednesday night prayer-meeting of his 
 experience and conversion. The time came, 
 and the meeting was crowded. The plucking 
 of this particular brand from the burning was a 
 
Heard in the Ctoak-room. 21 i 
 
 great justification of good works. The brother 
 arose and said : 
 
 " 'Rethren hn hihter. You all know hme. I 
 have hived hmong you all hmy hays. I have 
 holen, hied and heated. I have been hrunk 
 half the hime. I have hroken all the hom- 
 manhmenth, but I am now hoin' to head a 
 hehher hife." 
 
 Just then a good sister over in the amen 
 corner rose and said: "We are all so glad 
 that Brother Tremble has given up the devil 
 and all his works and come over to the Lord's 
 side, and we all want to give him a helping 
 hand, but will he please speak a little louder." 
 
 Brother Tremble got a little red in the face 
 and started in again : 
 
 " 'Rethren hn hihter. I have hived ahong 
 you all hi hays. I have heen a hiherable hin- 
 ner, huh now I have reholved to hive a hehher 
 hife." 
 
 He was interrupted by a good old man, one 
 of the pillars of the church, a father in Israel, 
 who rose from beneath the pulpit with his hand 
 to his ear and said : 
 
 "We are now witnessing the power of sal- 
 vation. Brother Tremble's conversion will be 
 
212 The Show at Washington. 
 
 the cause of waking many sinners from their 
 sins and bringing them into the fold, but will 
 he speak a little louder and a little plainer?" 
 
 Brother Tremble's eyes flashed fire. The 
 violence of his emotions impeded his utterance, 
 but he choked them down and began again as 
 loud as he could shout : 
 
 "'Rethren hn hihter. I have heen a hear- 
 hul hinner all hy hay, huh I have reholved to 
 head a hrihtian hife. Ham your old souls, han 
 you*unherhan hat ?" 
 
ORATORICAL ODDITIES. 
 
 BOURKE COCKRAN is the orator of the 
 House. His manner and presence are a 
 study. He tapers from the head down, and 
 looks like an inverted pyramid balancing itself 
 unsteadily on its peak, and he seems constantly 
 in imminent danger of toppling over into the 
 aisle. As he begins to speak he gazes about 
 him with sleepy eyes as if unconscious of the 
 peril of a poise which keeps the House and 
 galleries nervously expectant of a catastrophe. 
 The' Tammany orator always begins his 
 oratorical efforts with hands plunged wrist 
 deep into his pockets. Then as the flow of 
 words becomes more easy out comes the right, 
 emphasizing the rolling brogue with an occa- 
 sional little deprecatory wave, vaguely flutter- 
 ing for an instant in mid-air. As the climax 
 approaches the left follows the right into the 
 open. The sentences come tumbling over each 
 other, the arms begin to work up and down 
 213 
 
2 14 The Show at Washington. 
 
 like pistons, and the clenched fist lands periodi- 
 cally upon the desk with a resounding thump. 
 The machinery gathers speed, the wheels go 
 round and round, the arms fly wildly in the 
 air, the hands come together, sentence after 
 sentence, with reverberating slaps, and the 
 Tammany brave seems carried away like a 
 camp-meeting exhorter with the fervor of his 
 own eloquence. Then the machinery suddenly 
 runs down, the big bulk collapses into the near- 
 est seat, the half-closed eyes gaze dreamily at 
 the ceiling and the performance is at an end. 
 
 Isidor Rayner, of Maryland, is another orator 
 of the fervid type. His frenzy is the efferves- 
 cence of his Hebrew blood. He ptflls his 
 sleeves to his elbows, prances up and down 
 the aisle, charges on the Speaker and retreats 
 upon the House, and works himself into a pas- 
 sion in a discussion of the dryest details of the 
 rules of the House. 
 
 Benton McMillin ranks easily near the head 
 of the vociferous orators. He boasts a voice 
 that can be heard way out in the corridors when 
 
Oratorical Oddities. 215 
 
 the doors are closed, but a half hour of use 
 breaks it down to a hoarse whisper. When he 
 is speaking no other business can be trans- 
 acted in the House. Members give up their 
 letter writing and wait patiently for the storm 
 to pass. All the chairs within a radius of a rod 
 are cleared, and their occupants retire pre- 
 cipitately to the farthest corners of the hall. 
 McMillin rushes up and down the aisle, pound- 
 ing the desks remorselessly as they cOme with- 
 in his orbit, leaning far forward in his zeal, and 
 chasing his retreating associates with his stento- 
 rian voice. He is a picture of rude eloquence 
 run wild. 
 
 After one of McMillin's impassioned out- 
 bursts Tom Reed's incisive nasal sentences 
 come as a distinct relief. The Maine leader is 
 never vociferous and never aims at eloquence. 
 He rises lazily in his comical way and gazes 
 soberly for an instant at the other side of the 
 House. With his hands suspended indolently 
 from the corners of his trousers' pockets by the 
 thumbs he talks straight ahead, scarcely modu- 
 lating his voice, and sometimes speaking for 
 15 
 
216 The Show at Washington. 
 
 five or ten minutes without indulging in a ges- 
 ture of any description. 
 
 When he does gesticulate it is with the left 
 arm, which he lifts menacingly and then lets 
 fall, but his queer Shakespearean head grows 
 red with the exertion at the most effective pas- 
 sages, and his home thrusts are usually accom- 
 panied with a peculiar crack in the voice that 
 makes it almost inaudible, except to those who 
 are near enough to catch every inflection. 
 
 On the Republican side of the House is a 
 man with a mission, also with a tremendous 
 responsibility. He is Johnson, of Indiana, a 
 tall, gaunt, raw-boned man, with a beardless 
 Gothic face, a large mouth and a lantern jaw 
 swung loosely in its socket. His responsibility 
 is in representing the district of Benjamin Har- 
 rison. His mission is to obtain justice for the 
 Southern voters. 
 
 He is the untiring defender of the colored 
 voter and the champion tail twister of the Con- 
 federate opossum. Upon several occasions 
 Johnson has had very narrow escapes from 
 personal encounters with members on account 
 
Oratorical Oddities. 217 
 
 of his enthusiastic oratory. He is perfectly- 
 fearless in what he says, and he is so sincere 
 and reckless in his sarcasm and denunciation 
 that some of the brigadiers from Dixie gen- 
 erally get fighting mad whenever he rises to 
 speak. 
 
 Johnson's great characteristic, outside of his 
 fearlessness, is the tremendous rapidity of his 
 speech. He is the fastest talker in Congress, 
 and, perhaps, the fastest talker that the House 
 has seen since the days of Rufus Choate. He 
 sometimes speaks three hundred words a min- 
 ute, and he is the despair of reporters and the 
 terror of listeners. 
 
 When he gets excited and voluble his frame 
 shakes all over, like a corn sheller with an ob- 
 structed hopper, as if it were coming to pieces 
 in the effort to deliver the words faster than 
 the epiglottis could flutter. Even Andrew De- 
 vine, that prince of stenographers, who made 
 his fame in the Beecher trial, has to take his 
 chin off his hand when he reports Johnson. 
 
 Congressman Milliken, of Maine, has his 
 name appear in the Congressional Record oft- 
 
2i8 The Show at Washington. 
 
 ener than any other man in Congress. In 
 fact, there is not a day but what the faithful 
 pencils of the stenographers represent him as 
 taking part in the proceedings. 
 
 ^Whenever a member of the House makes a 
 speech Milliken is certain to interrupt him by 
 asking several questions, no matter whether 
 the questions are of importance or not. These 
 questions and their answers, are, of course, 
 taken down by the stenographers, and the next 
 day in the report of the speech in the Record 
 appears the name of Mr. Milliken. 
 
 All of the speeches made in the House are 
 distributed in large numbers by the men who 
 make them among their constituents. Conse- 
 quently into every part of the country goes the 
 name of Mr. Milliken, for there is no speech 
 printed that does not contain his name and 
 some questions asked by him. 
 
 Wilson, of Washington, is the emery wheel 
 of the House. 
 
 His voice has the rasping sound of a file, 
 and when he is trying to catch the Speaker's 
 eye he works himself into an anticipatory vibra- 
 
Oratorical Oddities. 219 
 
 tion and whirl. His favorite play, however, is 
 to spring into the midst of an adversary's sen- 
 tence unannounced, with a buzz and a whirr 
 and a revolving movement that carries havoc 
 to the most carefully-turned argument. 
 
 Wilson has a way of saying things that 
 catches the fancy of the House. By a single 
 one of his lightning interpolations he has fixed 
 on "Charlie" Tracey, of New York, the sobri- 
 quet of " Cuckoo " Tracey for the rest of his 
 political life. 
 
 It was the day the silver repeal bill passed 
 the House, and a few days after Morgan had 
 said in the Senate that "the clock strikes at 
 the White House and the Cuckoos here stick 
 their heads out of their boxes to tell us the 
 time of day." 
 
 The speechmaking was all done, and Tracey 
 got a minute in which to wind up. He as- 
 sumed an air of great solemnity, and proceeded 
 in patronizing tones to thank everybody who 
 had aided him in the passage of the bill. He 
 wound up grandiloquently with the declaration 
 that he and those who acted with him had 
 " followed the lead of the man who, by a great 
 majority, had been elected President of the 
 
220 The Show at Washington. 
 
 United States — Grover Cleveland." As he sat 
 down, flushed with excitement, Wilson chirped 
 out from the other side of the House, " Cuckoo ! 
 Cuckoo ! " and the echo was lost in a chorus of 
 jeers. 
 
 Speaking of oratory, the most extraordinary- 
 exhibitions of the art are those given by Mar- 
 riott Brosius, of Pennsylvania, in the House. 
 Brosius has made a special study of elocution, 
 and at one time was an instructor in a college 
 of oratory. 
 
 He says that one man came to him after 
 listening to one of his political speeches and 
 declared that he would gladly give a million 
 dollars if he only possessed such power of ex- 
 pression. Brosius is always sure of an audi- 
 ence when he speaks, because he has a faculty 
 of waxing eloquent over the most uninteresting 
 themes. He can throw fervor and passion into 
 a discussion of the multiplication table. 
 
 California has at last surprised the Senate 
 with a pair of orators. It had been a silent 
 State so long that the memory of man ran not 
 to the contrary. But now White and Perkins 
 
Oratorical Oddities. 221 
 
 form an oratorical combination which is both 
 unique and hard to beat. 
 
 White bears a close resemblance to ex-Presi- 
 dent Harrison. He has the same style of 
 beard and one of about the same color, and he 
 is nearly of the same height. When he makes 
 a speech the resemblance is still more notice- 
 able, for he has a great many of the little tricks 
 of gesture and mannerisms that Harrison uses. 
 He is a businesslike talker, like the ex-Presi- 
 dent, and has a Harrisonian faculty of using 
 the proper words in the proper place. White 
 is a cousin of Bourke Cockran's and has some 
 of that gentleman's oratorical gift. 
 
 Nobody seems to understand how Perkins 
 developed his faculty of speech. He was 
 brought up on a " Down East " farm, served 
 as a sailor before the mast and then grew 
 wealthy as a ship chandler. 
 
 He has the style of a Methodist preacher and 
 the suggestion is emphasized by a ministerial 
 face, a closely-buttoned frock coat, a peculiar 
 wagging of the body in gesticulation and a 
 choice collection of catchy pulpit expressions. 
 
222 The Show at Washington. 
 
 " Mr. Speaker, I object." This is a sentence 
 which is heard nearly every hour that Congress 
 is in session, and none of the members or no 
 one in the galleries is compelled to look to see 
 who is the author of the remark. It is and can 
 be no other than Judge Holman, of Indiana, 
 the "watch dog of the treasury," who spends 
 his time when out of Congress in devising how 
 appropriations can be cut down and during 
 Congress in objecting to every favor that the 
 members ask of the House. 
 
 To see his tall, spare form rise slowly but 
 emphatically from his prominent seat, and his 
 sallow, withered face, with its straggling, gray 
 full beard, relax from its stolid expression as 
 the great American objector shifts his tobacco 
 from one cheek to the other and proceeds in 
 his terse, indistinct and passionless little speech, 
 is to see one of the most unique sights in Con- 
 gress and one of the most memorable sights in 
 public life. 
 
 Economy is his pillar of cloud by day and 
 his pillar of fire by night. To this subject he 
 devotes his every energy and upon it he makes 
 his every speech. 
 
Oratorical Oddities. 223 
 
 There is only one orator of the old style in 
 the Senate now. This is Daniel, of Virginia. 
 He is the only one of the e?ghty-eight who re- 
 tains to perfection the Columbian swing and 
 balance in his sentences, arranges his rhetorical 
 climaxes and develops exordiums and perora- 
 tions. 
 
 Down in his own country, where the people 
 still retain a love for the classical style, Daniel 
 is regarded as a superb orator, and they are in- 
 tensely proud of him, but in the Senate his 
 facility does not always gain him the rapt at- 
 tention which such flights of eloquence would 
 have commanded in the days before the war. 
 
 " Joe " Blackburn is an excellent illustration 
 of the difference between the style of oratory 
 which takes in the House and that which is 
 effective in the more sedate and scholarly 
 "upper branch." During his service as a 
 representative his fiery eloquence used to take 
 the House by storm. He would rouse that 
 body to the highest pitch of enthusiasm with 
 his splendid bursts of impassioned invective, 
 
224 The Show at Washington. 
 
 denunciation and appeal, but since his promo- 
 tion to the Senate he has subsided into silence. 
 Such an outburst as the one with which he 
 electrified the House during the historic con- 
 flict over the approval of the findings of the 
 Electoral Commission would be received in the 
 Senate with chilly indifference, or perhaps with 
 a tolerant smile. It would be regarded there 
 very much in the light in which the Supreme 
 Court would regard the effort of a lawyer who 
 ventured to harangue them after the manner 
 he had been accustomed to adopt toward a 
 petit jury. 
 
 One of 'the most delightful speakers in the 
 Senate is Vest, of Missouri. He is piquant, 
 aggressive, epigrammatic and always intensely 
 in earnest. His condensed, pugnacious face 
 and figure, which give him very much the ap- 
 pearance of a lively bull terrier, are reflected in 
 his method of debate ; and his mental agility 
 makes him an ugly antagonist on the floor. 
 Withal, there is a significant gleam in his 
 eyes which shows how thoroughly he enjoys 
 his oratorical bouts. 
 
Oratorical Oddities. 225 
 
 Cockrell, of Missouri, is one of the pictur- 
 esque talkers of the Senate. He is the counter- 
 part of the traditional Uncle Sam in face and 
 figure, and if anybody ventures to interrupt him 
 in debate he springs upon the intruder with the 
 impetuosity of a game cock in battle. 
 
 He leans with his gaunt form far over till he 
 nearly loses his balance, and shakes his fist ex- 
 citedly in the very face of his antagonist. 
 
 He is like lightning in retort and like a wind- 
 mill in action, intolerant of contradiction and 
 frenzied in utterance. 
 
 But when he seems to be in a very paroxysm 
 of rage his temper is more likely than not to 
 be as mild and sunny as a midsummer morning. 
 
 Hill has a style of debate that catches the 
 galleries every time. He talks straight to the 
 mark and wastes no words. He strikes back 
 with an airy intrepidity and confidence that 
 make him seem to be constantly getting the 
 better of the argument. 
 
 There are few things in debate so effective 
 as the way in which Hill pounces upon the 
 conjunction "but." He states a proposition 
 
226 The Show at Washington. 
 
 so clearly that you can see it standing out in 
 the air before your eyes. Then he pauses for 
 the infinitesimal part of a second, jerks sud- 
 denly back, lets his right arm spring up to a 
 level with the shoulder, ejaculates the "but" 
 as if he had wrapped a whole proposition in the 
 single monosyllable, then pauses again, poised 
 in the air for an instant, and rushes upon his 
 conclusion with such overwhelming force that 
 even without understanding a word of it you 
 must feel that it is crushing, complete and un- 
 answerable. 
 
 The only man in the House who can in any 
 measure approach Johnson in the rapidity of 
 speech is Catchings, of Mississippi, whose usual 
 rate is about two hundred and twenty words a 
 minute. 
 
 A remarkable thing about Catchings, how- 
 ever, is that he has the reputation of being very 
 deliberate, and he is never considered, except 
 by the stenographers who take his report, to be 
 a rapid talker. His language flows so evenly, 
 with such clearness of pronunciation, without 
 any attempt at oratorical effect, that stenogra- 
 phers who have been unable to keep up with 
 
Oratorical Oddities. 227 
 
 speeches falling below two hundred words a 
 minute have never experienced the least diffi- 
 culty in getting every word he says. 
 
 Unquestionably Bryan, of Nebraska, is one' 
 of the orators of the House. He is striking in 
 appearance, being greatly favored by nature in 
 oratorical gifts, and he made his mark in de- 
 bate as soon as he entered Congress. He is 
 the living image of Samuel J. Randall. 
 
 He has the art of speaking with his audience, 
 not to them, and, above all, the art of being 
 natural. He has a very pleasing voice and 
 handles it with great skill. One of his strong- 
 est points is his power of retort, and woe to the 
 unlucky individual who endeavors to interrupt 
 him. His. wife is a great help to the young 
 Nebraska orator. She assists him in most of 
 his speeches, does a great deal of reading for 
 him, and spends much of her time in collating 
 that which will be useful to her husband in his 
 work. 
 
 He fell in love with her while he was in col- 
 lege. She was a classmate of his and won 
 prizes in English, while he was winning fame 
 
228 The Show at Washington. 
 
 as a college orator. By a curious coincidence 
 it was Bryan's birthday when he made the 
 speech on the tariff question in Congress which 
 gave him fame. 
 
 Bryan learns by heart every important speech 
 that he makes, and for days before the time for 
 delivery he goes out into the woods, outside the 
 city, and delivers it to the trees and the sky. 
 
 Bryan is a great admirer of dramatic effect. 
 Whenever he makes a speech of any length he 
 has all his accessories carefully arranged be- 
 forehand. 
 
SNAP SHOTS AT RANDOM. 
 
 ADLAI STEVENSON was travelling on a 
 Pullman car out West two or three years 
 ago. It was before he had become a Vice- 
 Presidential possibility, and while his only dis- 
 tinction was that of having been the headsman 
 of the first Cleveland administration. Editor 
 Rosewater, of the Omaha Bee, was on the same 
 car. 
 
 Rosewater, who is a little fellow, was making 
 his toilet in the dressing-room when he noticed 
 a big man with a red face at the next bowl 
 vigorously splashing himself with water. Sud- 
 denly the big man turned around. 
 
 " Have a drink !" he exclaimed, in a voice 
 that sounded to Rosewater like a roar. The 
 editor did not know his companion and he 
 seldom indulges. But he had a wholesome 
 respect for the other's physical proportions, and 
 he meekly followed him back into the car. 
 The big one hauled out a flask from his pocket. 
 229 
 
230 The Show at Washington. 
 
 '■' My name is Stevenson," he said ; " what's 
 yours ?" And then each proceeded to take a 
 pull. It was the beginning of a friendship that 
 has lasted ever since. 
 
 Tom Reed was lounging down Fifteenth 
 Street in an especially good-natured frame of 
 mind when a wild-eyed admirer, who had 
 taken a drop too much, jumped out from a 
 doorway and waving his hand familiarly gave 
 him a drunken greeting. It was a startler, but 
 the ex-Speaker sized the situation sensibly and 
 waved his hand smilingly in return. 
 
 " After all," he remarked, reflectively ; " your 
 drunken man is the only really free man. So 
 long as he isn't absolutely dangerous or ob- 
 noxious he does about as he pleases and no- 
 body thinks of objecting. The rest of us are 
 constantly cribbed, coffined and confined." 
 
 "Joe" Sibley, of Pennsylvania, is one of the 
 most popular men in the . House. The six 
 blooded horses which he brought with him 
 from his big stock farm are things of beauty, 
 
Snap Shots at Random. 231 
 
 and they have to be exercised every morning 
 before he goes to the Capitol. 
 
 No wonder he is in great demand. There is 
 nothing which appeals to the Congressional 
 imagination more effectively than a lively bit 
 of horseflesh. 
 
 But Sibley would be popular even if he were 
 compelled to walk to the Capitol daily. Geni- 
 ality and responsiveness ooze out of every pore 
 of his ministerial frame. 
 
 It is a great many years since he expounded 
 good Methodist doctrine from the sacred desk, 
 but he has never been able to divest himself 
 entirely of the pulpit attitude and gait, and 
 whenever he looks at you with those big, 
 earnest eyes you feel instinctively that he is 
 going to ask you to lead in prayer. 
 
 His friends say, however, that it is a great 
 eye for a bluff, and that the past reverend 
 never haggles over the ante. 
 
 M. C. Lisle, M. C, is the youngest member 
 
 of the Kentucky delegation, and he comes 
 
 within a month or two of being the youngest 
 
 man in the House. He is a handsome speci- 
 
 16 
 
232 The Show at Washington. 
 
 men of a Kentuckian, and he represents one of 
 the most peculiar districts in the United States. 
 His own county is in the blue grass region, but 
 the other counties are up in the mountains. 
 When he stumped his district for election he 
 had to do it on horseback, and he wound in 
 and out among the mountains for weeks with- 
 out seeing a railroad train or a hotel. 
 
 Three-quarters of his constituents cannot 
 read or write, and Andrew Jackson gets more 
 votes among them at every election than in 
 any other district in the United States. 
 
 Dennis Flynn is the Republican delegate 
 from Oklahoma. He represents the only Re- 
 publican State or territory south of Mason and 
 Dixon's line. He began life up in Buffalo only 
 thirty-one years ago, and when he was a boy 
 he used to sweep out law offices. He might 
 have swept out Grover Cleveland's, but he 
 didn't. 
 
 Flynn rode into Guthrie on the first train 
 that carried the boomers, with a postmaster's 
 commission in his pocket. He didn't know a 
 person in the territory then, but they say he 
 
Snap Shots at Random. 233 
 
 can now call every man and boy by name. At 
 any rate, he is the most popular man in Okla- 
 homa, and has things pretty much his own way 
 politically. 
 
 "Denny," as everybody calls him, has a 
 slight boyish figure, a long clear-cut face, with 
 strong aquiline nose and without the suspicion 
 of a beard. His hair is black and so are his 
 sparkling eyes. His wiry frame is stored full 
 of electricity, and you cannot touch him with- 
 out getting a shock. 
 
 "Charlie" Foster, the ex-Secretary of the 
 Treasury, gave " Cal " Brice his first boost in 
 business. He tells this about the Senator : 
 
 "When Brice went over to New York," he 
 says, "and began to figure there as a great 
 man, it rather took the breath away from those 
 of us who had known all about him in Ohio. 
 So the first time I met him after he became 
 famous I quizzed him about it. 
 
 " ' How do you manage it, Brice,' I asked ; 
 ' we never thought you were any great shakes 
 out home.' 
 
 " ' Oh, it's easy enough,' replied Brice. • You 
 
234 The Show at Washington. 
 
 want to go on the assumption that ninety-nine 
 people out of a hundred know as little about 
 things as you do, and you are pretty sure to hit 
 it right. Then you must pretend to know all 
 about everything, and always give the im- 
 pression that there's nothing you can't accom- 
 plish. Always say you can do anything that is 
 suggested, even if you know nothing about it. 
 And then go home and think up some way to 
 do it, or else to do something which will answer 
 as well. But the main point is always to know 
 all about it.'" 
 
 The tallest member of the House is General 
 Curtis, of New York. He stands nearly seven 
 feet in height, and towers above his associates 
 like the Washington monument above the roofs 
 of the city. His shoulders are broad, his body 
 is well proportioned and he looks like a modern 
 giant. Heavy, long-flowing whiskers add to 
 the picturesqueness of his personality. 
 
 In the war he performed wonderful deeds of 
 valor and personal heroism. He was the hero 
 of Fort Fisher, and lost an eye in that great 
 struggle. He explains his wound in this way : 
 He says that the Confederate general ordered 
 
Snap Shots at Random. 235 
 
 his men to frighten the Union soldiers by firing 
 a volley over their heads. They fired over 
 the soldiers' heads, but hit Curtis in the eye, 
 and he bears the mark to this day. 
 
 Springer, of Illinois, hardly impresses one 
 as a man who was born to be a great leader 
 among men. His most prominent characteris- 
 tic is his benevolent look, for he has an expres- 
 sion of goodness upon his long-bearded face 
 that would be a fortune to any Sunday-school 
 superintendent or bunco man. With his per- 
 suasive manner of speaking, his tall figure clad 
 in a Prince Albert of stately black, his beaming 
 smile and kindly glance, he looks as if he had 
 just stepped out of a group picture of missiona- 
 ries. 
 
 But he is emphatically a man of motion and 
 energy. Nervous and excitable, restless and 
 curious, he is constantly bobbing up and down 
 in his seat, takes part in everything that is going 
 on, even if it is only a motion to adjourn, and 
 is the man of all others who attracts the atten- 
 tion of the galleries. 
 
 He never appears in the House without a red 
 
236 The Show at Washington. 
 
 carnation in his button-hole, and would regard 
 himself as en dishabille without this flower. 
 
 Nebraska claims the honor of having the 
 homeliest man in Congress. This is Mc- 
 Keighan, who is one of the Alliance members 
 of the House. A friend and colleague of his 
 said, with a touch of pride : 
 
 " Yes ; our State has the homeliest Congress- 
 man. McKeighan doesn't object in the least 
 to allusions to the unattractive mold in which 
 nature has seen fit to cast his physiognomy. 
 He has become accustomed to it, and is in- 
 clined to wear his present physiognomy, if not 
 as a decoration, at least as a kind of badge of 
 distinction. His political lieutenant is Daniel 
 Nettleton. He is also McKeighan's lieutenant 
 in the point of homeliness, and pushes his chief 
 closely for first place. Why, in Nebraska we 
 boast of having the three homeliest men in the 
 United States. According to the popular idea 
 Nettleton is one of them and McKeighan the 
 other two." 
 
 A group of Congressmen were discussing 
 Judge Holman and a resolution he had just 
 
Snap Shots at Random. iyj 
 
 offered in the interest of economy. Tom Reed 
 brought a burst of applause by drawling out : 
 " Yes ; I know Holman is styled ' the watch- 
 dog of the Treasury,' but I know he never 
 bites anything near home." 
 
 Reed is learning to use the typewriter. 
 There is a machine in the Ways and Means 
 committee room, and this is where he practices. 
 He is becoming very proficient, and one day, 
 after the Assistant Secretary of the Treasury had 
 been telling the committee about the finances 
 of the country, the ex-Speaker sat down to 
 the typewriter and gave to Bourke Cockran the 
 following very interesting opinion upon what he 
 thought had been the result of the conference 
 with the Democratic committee. Reed's opin- 
 ion as written out by him was this : 
 =||=qwertySXBBBBNMu?— m;y.,"2fch3xXX 
 
 Culberson, of Texas, is the best lawyer in 
 the House, and about the only one to which 
 the title of "the silent statesman" can truth- 
 fully be applied. Culberson is a man who is 
 always being heard, but who very seldom says 
 anything himself, Nearly all his speeches are 
 
238 The Show at Washington. 
 
 made by others, while he sits quietly in his seat 
 in the back row. There are twenty-five Dem- 
 ocratic members of the House who do his ora- 
 torical work for him, and they do it uncon- 
 sciously. 
 
 When he wishes to say something upon a 
 certain subject he goes to one of these friends, 
 talks to him about the matter and gives vent to 
 his ideas, and at the next session of the House 
 this man arises and gives utterance to the sen- 
 timent which Culberson has impressed upon 
 his mind. 
 
 Culberson has defended every murderer of 
 any account who has been tried in Texas for 
 many years, and has never lost but one case of 
 this kind, and that was where his client was 
 lynched by the crowd during the progress of 
 the trial. He is the guardian of the new mem- 
 bers of the House, and is ready to help them 
 at any time. 
 
 Congressman Kilgore, of Texas, has de- 
 veloped into a circus rider of the most sensa- 
 tional character. He is very fond of horse- 
 back riding, and now takes a new form of 
 exercise in this direction. On his native plains 
 
Snap Shots at Random. 239 
 
 of Texas he practiced the art of bareback rid- 
 ing, and also of picking handkerchiefs and 
 other small articles from the ground while 
 going at full speed. He became proficient at 
 this, and now gives exhibitions of his skill to 
 his friends on the roads near Washington. 
 With his white hair, massive white moustache 
 and huge slouch hat he is a picturesque figure 
 on horseback. 
 
 Tom Reed is not a believer in sudden sick- 
 ness, especially when a man is called upon to 
 do work. Dolliver, of Iowa, had made arrange- 
 ments to speak in Rhode Island during the 
 campaign in that State. But just before the 
 time came for his departure he wished to go 
 home, and tried to get out of his Rhode Island 
 engagement. So he sent a telegram from 
 Washington, stating that he was sick, and, 
 therefore, could not come. 
 
 Reed happened to be in the Republican 
 headquarters in Providence when the telegram 
 was received, and it was handed to him. He 
 read it, then slowly drawled out : " Telegraph 
 back for him to come on at once. He isn't 
 sick. If he were sick he wouldn't have tried 
 
240 The Show at Washington. 
 
 to describe his complaint in a telegram, or have 
 used so many words about it;" 
 
 That reply was sent back, and Dolliver went 
 to Rhode Island. 
 
 If Senator Pasco, of Florida, should some 
 day arise in his seat when a vote was being 
 taken in the Senate and actually record himself 
 on one side or the other the dignified Senators 
 would be thrown into convulsions. Pasco is a 
 man who never votes. Since he has occupied 
 a seat in the Senate he has put himself on rec- 
 ord fewer times than any other member of that 
 body. 
 
 Not that he is not on hand, for he is always 
 in his seat and very punctual, but he is always 
 paired. He has such a good heart and philan- 
 thropic nature that whenever any Senator de- 
 sires to arrange a pair with him he cannot bear 
 to refuse the request, and he is imposed upon 
 accordingly. 
 
 So whenever a yea and nay vote is taken the 
 voice of the Senator from Florida is heard, as 
 he rises from his seat and solemnly announces 
 what everybody in the chamber knows before- 
 
Snap Shots at Random. 241 
 
 hand, that he is paired ; and a general smile 
 plays upon the faces of his associates when he 
 makes this announcement. 
 
 Any one who has an acquaintance with the 
 features of the innocent-looking face of hand- 
 some Congressman Durburrow, of Chicago, 
 will appreciate this story which he tells on 
 himself. 
 
 He conducted a hard campaign for re-elec- 
 tion, and during its progress some of his en- 
 thusiastic constituents had a fine lithograph 
 with the Congressman's features printed and 
 posted on every bill board and dead wall of 
 the city. Along came the employees of a rival 
 bill-posting concern sticking up the name of a 
 coming farce comedy, and thereafter under 
 every picture of Durburrow's face was this line 
 in startling letters : 
 
 " Innocent as a Lamb." 
 
 Durburrow says that his widely-advertised 
 innocence must have stood him in good stead, 
 for he was re-elected by over eleven thousand 
 in a district which usually sends a Republican 
 to Congress. 
 
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