On the other side!
On the other side!
Oh, you must somehow see the other side!
If you'd repair or clean
This delicate old machine,
You must have a way to see the other side!
—The Inventor's Song in, "Bedlam."
Messrs. Sheehan and Zalinsky, before being ushered into the Turkish room where Mr. Brassfield sat awaiting them, were told by Mr. Alvord that, should Mr. Brassfield's position on the labor question be found satisfactory to them, he would like to have their good offices in the matter of getting a fair attendance at the caucuses the next evening. As this is always an expensive thing for the patriot who engages to do it, he, Mr. Alvord, would beg to place at their disposal funds in an amount named by him, for use in the transportation of distant and enfeebled voters and for such refreshment as might be thought necessary.
"Weh-ull," said Sheehan, "Fr th' carkuses only it may do. What say, Zalinsky?"
Mr. Zalinsky, his eyes gleaming with gratification, thought the sum named might possibly suffice.
"Good!" said Alvord. "And now come up and see the next mayor."
"What's de use?" asked Zalinsky. "Don't we know him all right? Ain't it all fixed? I want to git busy wit me end of deliverin' de goods."
"Mr. Brassfield's views on labor——" began Alvord, but Sheehan interrupted him.
"Your word goes wid us!" said he. "Ye've convinced us Brassfield's the laborin' man's frind. What say, Zalinsky?"
"So!" said Zalinsky. "Ve better git to work over in de fourt' ward."
"They didn't come up," said Alvord, returning to the Turkish room. "The figures on that card seemed to convince 'em. Now for the saloons and their end of the vote."