It seems to me that it may, on the contrary, be a lesson to such, because it makes a burlesque of itself in chasing folly. Puddleford is a great looking-glass, which reflects the faces of almost every person who looks into it, and proves, what that remarkable character said, "that human nature is always the same."
CHAPTER VIII.
Puddleford and Politics.—Higgins against Wiggins.—The Candidates' Personale.—Their Platforms.—Delicate Questions.—Stump Speaking.—Wiggins on Higgins.—Impertinent Interruptions.—Higgins on Wiggins.—Ike Turtle not dead yet.—Commotion.—Squire Longbow restores Order.—Grand Stroke of Policy.—The Roast Ox at Gillett's Corners.
Puddleford was famous for its political excitements, and so indeed is a new country generally. Its people watched the altar of liberty with an "eternal vigilance." The qualifications of all persons, from a candidate for the presidency down to township constable, were thoroughly canvassed by the electors. What might be a qualification for office in Puddleford, might disqualify in another region, but we cannot expect that all men will think alike. We must not forget that office meant something in Puddleford—that it conferred honor on the man, whether the man conferred honor on it or not. A highway commissioner, or overseer of the poor, was a character looked up to, and a supervisor or justice were the oracles of their neighborhood.
The merits and demerits of candidates were freely discussed at public meetings, held most usually in the open air, and composed of all parties. Aspirants for public favor, who were opposed to each other, met and made and answered arguments. All things in the "heavens above and the earth beneath," were raked up and presented at these gatherings. The creation of the world—Adam and Eve—Cain—Jerusalem—Greece and Rome—the revolution, and the last war, were dragged into speeches, and made material for electioneering.
In the fall, subsequently to my settlement, Higgins ran against Wiggins for member of the legislature. It was said that this was one of the most exciting contests that Puddleford ever experienced. Every man, woman, and child were enlisted. The "Higgins" men didn't speak to the "Wiggins" men, nor the "Wiggins" men to the "Higgins" men, for more than two months, and the opposing families absolutely refused to visit.
Wiggins was a little, waspish man, who lived in the country, and was called a "forehanded" farmer. He had been a justice of the peace in Cattaraugus county, State of New York, and thought as much of himself as he did of any other person living. He had a small, withered face, which looked like a frost-bitten apple, red hair, and a quick, restless eye. He was a violent politician, a shrewd manager, had a keen insight of human nature, some humor; and was and always had been a red-hot democrat. He rafted lumber for several years on the Susquehanna, where he received the greater part of his education. He could write his name, and had been known to attempt a letter, but no one was ever yet found who could read his correspondence. His orthography was decidedly bad. He spelled in a sort of short-hand way, which was not so objectionable, after all, as his language usually conveyed the pronunciation of the words intended. "Il" was used for "ile" or "oil;" "hos" stood for "horse;" "kanderdit for ofis," for "candidate for office," and so on. His extemporaneous speaking was quite tolerable, and it was this gift which had given him notoriety.
Higgins was a man much after the sort of Wiggins, in many respects, though not altogether. He was a violent whig, and talked incessantly about his "glorious party." He was a large, tall, broad-breasted fellow, ignorant, cunning, and cut something of a swagger wherever he went. He drank whiskey, chewed a paper of fine-cut every day, read the newspapers, cursed the locofocos, prognosticated the downfall of the country, and pledged himself to die game, let what would happen.