Produced by Pat Castevans and David Widger
By Winston Churchill
This was not my first visit to the state capital. Indeed, some of thatrecondite knowledge, in which I took a pride, had been gained on theoccasions of my previous visits. Rising and dressing early, I beheld outof the car window the broad, shallow river glinting in the morningsunlight, the dome of the state house against the blue of the sky. Evenat that early hour groups of the gentlemen who made our laws werescattered about the lobby of the Potts House, standing or seated withineasy reach of the gaily coloured cuspidors that protected the marblefloor: heavy-jawed workers from the cities mingled with moon-faced butastute countrymen who manipulated votes amongst farms and villages; fator cadaverous, Irish, German or American, all bore in common a certainindefinable stamp. Having eaten my breakfast in a large dining-room thatresounded with the clatter of dishes, I directed my steps to theapartment occupied from year to year by Colonel Paul Barney,generalissimo of the Railroad on the legislative battlefield,—a positionthat demanded a certain uniqueness of genius.
"How do you do, sir," he said, in a guarded but courteous tone as heopened the door. I entered to confront a group of three or four figures,silent and rather hostile, seated in a haze of tobacco smoke around amarble-topped table. On it reposed a Bible, attached to a chain.
"You probably don't remember me, Colonel," I said. "My name is Pared, and
I'm associated with the firm of Watling, Fowndes, and Ripon."
His air of marginality,—heightened by a grey moustache and goatee a la
Napoleon Third,—vanished instantly; he became hospitable, ingratiating.
"Why—why certainly, you were down heah with Mr. Fowndes two years ago."The Colonel spoke with a slight Southern accent. "To be sure, sir. I'vehad the honour of meeting your father. Mr. Norris, of North Haven, meetMr. Paret—one of our rising lawyers…" I shook hands with them all andsat down. Opening his long coat, Colonel Varney revealed two rows ofcigars, suggesting cartridges in a belt. These he proceeded to hand outas he talked. "I'm glad to see you here, Mr. Paret. You must stay awhile,and become acquainted with the men who—ahem—are shaping the destiniesof a great state. It would give me pleasure to escort you about."
I thanked him. I had learned enough to realize how important are theamenities in politics and business. The Colonel did most of theconversing; he could not have filled with efficiency and ease theimportant post that was his had it not been for the endless fund ofhumorous anecdotes at his disposal. One by one the visitors left, eachassuring me of his personal regard: the Colonel closed the door, softly,turning the key in the lock; there was a sly look in his black eyes as hetook a chair in proximity to mine.
"Well, Mr. Paret," he asked softly, "what's up?"
Without further ado I handed him Mr. Gorse's letter, and another Mr.Watling had given me for him, which contained a copy of the bill. He readthese, laid them on the table, glancing at me again, stroking his goateethe while. He chuckled.
"By gum!" he exclaimed. "I take off my hat to Theodore Watling, alwaysdid." He became contemplative. "It can be done, Mr. Paret, but it's goingto take some careful driving, sir, some reaching out and flicking 'emwhen they r'ar and buck. Paul Varney's never been stumped yet. Just assoon as this is introduced we'll have Gates and Armstrong downhere—they