“Well—I don’t know—it is a question that requires time; a body can’t answer every question right off-hand. But it does do good. I am satisfied of that.”
“All right, then; grant that it does good; go on with the preliminaries.”
“That is what I am coming to. First, as I said, they will try a lot of members for taking money for votes. That will take four weeks.”
“Yes, that’s like last year; and it is a sheer waste of the time for which the nation pays those men to work—that is what that is. And it pinches when a body’s got a bill waiting.”
“A waste of time, to purify the fountain of public law? Well, I never heard anybody express an idea like that before. But if it were, it would still be the fault of the minority, for the majority don’t institute these proceedings. There is where that minority becomes an obstruction—but still one can’t say it is on the wrong side.—Well, after they have finished the bribery cases, they will take up cases of members who have bought their seats with money. That will take another four weeks.”
“Very good; go on. You have accounted for two-thirds of the session.”
“Next they will try each other for various smaller irregularities, like the sale of appointments to West Point cadetships, and that sort of thing—mere trifling pocket-money enterprises that might better be passed over in silence, perhaps, but then one of our Congresses can never rest easy till it has thoroughly purified itself of all blemishes—and that is a thing to be applauded.”
“How long does it take to disinfect itself of these minor impurities?”
“Well, about two weeks, generally.”
“So Congress always lies helpless in quarantine ten weeks of a session. That’s encouraging. Colonel, poor Laura will never get any benefit from our bill. Her trial will be over before Congress has half purified itself.—And doesn’t it occur to you that by the time it has expelled all its impure members there may not be enough members left to do business legally?”