CHAPTER I.
MAL-ADMINISTRATION RUN RIOT.
This is nice winter weather. However, as The Man on the Ladder was born some distance prior to the week before last, there’s a tang and chill in the breezes up here about the ladder top which makes the temperature decidedly less congenial than is the atmosphere in the editorial rooms of my publisher.
But, say, the view from this elevation is mighty interesting. The mobilization of the United States soldiery far to the Southwest; the breaking up of corrals and herds to the West; the starting of activities about mining camps in the West and Northwest; the lumber jacks and teams in the spruce forests of the north are indeed inspiring things to look upon; and over the eastern horizon, there in the lumber sections of New England and to the Southeast, in the soft maple, the cottonwood and basswood districts, the people appear to be industriously and happily active; away to the South——
Say! What’s that excitement over there at Washington, D. C.?
“Hello, Central! Hello! Yes, this is The Man on the Ladder.”
“Get me Washington, D. C., on the L.-D. in a hurry—and get Congressman Blank on that end of the wire. The House is in session, and certainly he ought to be found in not more than five minutes.”
It is something unusually gratifying to see that activity about that sleepy group of capitol buildings—the “House of Dollars,” the house of the hoi polloi, and the White House—a scene that will linger in the freshness and fragrance of my remembrance until the faculty of memory fades away. There are messengers and pages flitting about from house to house as if the prairies were afire behind them. Excited Congressmen are in heated discourse on the esplanade, on the capitol steps and in the corridors and cloak rooms. And there are numerous groups of Senators, each a kingly specimen of what might be a real man if there was not so much pickled dignity oozing from his stilted countenance and pose. There now go four of them to the White House, probably to see the President, our smiling William. I wonder what they are after. I wonder——
“Yes, yes! Hello! Is that you, Congressman Jim?” “Yes? What can I do for you?”
“Well, this is The Man on the Ladder, Jim, and I want to know in the name of heaven—any other spot you can think of quickly will do as well—what’s the occasion and cause for all that external excitement and activity I see around the capitol building? There must be a superthermic atmosphere inside both the Senate and House to drive so many of our statesmen to the open air and jolt them into a quickstep in their movements. Now go on and tell, and tell me straight.”
Well, Well! If I did not know my Congressman friend so well, I would scarcely be persuaded to believe what he has just phoned me.