After the campaign was over, the votes cast, and the victory won, Mr. Thwing said, “That was a good business idea of yours, Governor, about your not going into the towns where your stores were. Of course you instructed your general manager.”
“I don't know what you mean,” said Quincy.
“Didn't you know when you spoke in places adjoining those in which you had stores that your Mr. Chripp, I think that's the name—just flooded the towns with circulars announcing that you were to speak and that you were the President of the grocery company doing business in the adjoining city, that your goods were the best, your prices the lowest—and that your teams would deliver goods free of charge in all places within five miles?”
Mr. Thwing stopped to take breath, and Quincy nearly lost his in astonishment.
“Great business idea, Mr. Sawyer.”
“I knew nothing about it. I should have stopped it had I known.”
“Why so? You got a double ad. Bright man that Chripp. You'll have to raise his salary.”
Quincy did not reply. The deed was done, and a public explanation would do no good. Chripp surely had his employer's interests at heart, even if he had mixed politics and business rather too openly. The next month's statement showed a great increase in trade. Mr. Chripp was not called to account, but his salary was materially increased at the suggestion of young Quincy.
The new President had been inaugurated, the Cabinet nominees confirmed, and the distribution of political “plums” began. Quincy felt that the lightning had struck in the wrong place when he was approached and sounded as to whether he would accept a foreign mission. He talked the matter over with his wife.
“Quincy,” said she, “I would go, if I were you.”