He told the thrilling story of Kentucky in words of matchless humor and pathos. He tried fun; no one smiled. I was sitting on the platform, and the stories were so amusing I was obliged to retire to the wings, as to laugh in the face of that angry audience would have been an indignity. He tried pathos. No one melted. As he came from the stage, I said: "Colonel, you gave a most eloquent address."

"What in thunder is the matter with that audience?" he said. I replied: "When you said you did not regret being a rebel, and you would do the same again, you killed that audience so far as you were concerned."

Just at that moment Mr. Matthew Savage, the County Superintendent, came up. He flung down on the table his check for one hundred dollars, and said: "Take that, but I hope never to see your face again. I am a Democrat, and the people of this county will think I hired you to come here and talk treason. You have spoiled my chances for the Legislature." The people, however, understood the case, and it did not hurt Mr. Savage politically.

IX
CONCERNING REPRESENTATIVES

It is not all "skittles and beer" to be a Senator or a Representative at Washington. The continued pressure from a man's constituents that he shall accomplish certain legislation for his district, and the iron-clad rules which prohibit his every movement, if in the House of Representatives, are enough to break an ordinary man's health.

A new member goes to the House full of enthusiasm, hoping to accomplish great things for those who have trusted him; he finds that he is scarcely permitted to open his mouth the first term. But he does his best in committee, which is little enough; he runs his feet off to get places for some hundreds of people from his district who must be taken care of. Then he keeps trying to be a good party man, and to do some favor for the leaders, who, he hopes, will reward him by giving him an opportunity to accomplish much-needed legislation for his district, till in his second or third term he becomes desperate, breaks out in meeting, and knocks things about generally. If he proves to be really an orator and succeeds in catching the ear of the House, he may then begin to be more than a mere party voter. On the other hand, he may be so squelched that he subsides into "innocuous desuetude."

In the meantime he has borne all forms of unjust and unkind criticism at home. His opponents of his own party and of the opposite party point, in scorn and malice, to how little has been done for the district, and tell in startling sentences how they would do it and how they will do it when they are elected. Then a "nagger" comes to Washington, who is still worse. He demands a position, tells the Representative how the latter owes his place to said nagger, and insists on being immediately made chief clerk of some department accessible only through the Civil Service, and needing four times the influence a new member can bring to bear. A man must learn to be serene under nagging, misrepresentation, and even positive lies, and rely upon time and his own best efforts to vindicate him.

There have been more caucuses held during the last term than usual. A caucus is a good thing, as it gives a man a chance to influence in a very slight degree the decisions of his party. (See Henry Loomis Nelson's excellent article in the Century for June, 1902.)

The House (in 1909) is ruled by Speaker Cannon, Payne, of New York, Dalzell, of Pennsylvania, and Tawney, of Minnesota. How long will such a hierarchy, dominating nearly three hundred intelligent men, be permitted to exist? The House is run like a bank, of which the President and a few clerks do all the deciding. Any correspondent who has the ear of any of these few can tell you the fate of a measure before it comes to vote.