“Ladies and gentlemen, we have witnessed to-night one of the most wonderful plays ever presented to an intelligent public—wonderful in the fact that it is so true to life that nearly every one in the vast audience knows some near or dear one who is only Betsy or Jobe Gaskins under another name; wonderful in the fact that this proud nation of the United States, after an existence of over one hundred years, should have a system of laws that works such terrible hardships on her citizens, and then claim to be civilized or advanced; wonderful in the fact that these conditions exist on every hand, in every direction, and yet a nation of Christians has not risen up against them. But, good people, my heart swells with joy when I tell you that sitting by my side, carried here in the arms of admiration, is a man who has set out to relieve the people of Ohio from such slavery—who has introduced in the legislature a bill which will come up for a third reading to-morrow, and which will relieve the poor of many of such hardships as poor Betsy and Jobe Gaskins had to bear—a bill, if you please, that will make it easier for us and our children to buy and pay for a home.
“Fellow-citizens, I present to you the Hon. L. W. Chambers, of Ashtabula County, the chairman of the committee and champion of the bill I have just referred to.”
The audience arose en masse, climbed on seats, cheered, stamped and whistled, while Mr. Chambers, without a smile, but calmly and courteously, bowed and sat down.
Then the big legislator, after getting the crowd quiet again, said that the bill he referred to would enable any one with reasonable security to borrow money from the county treasury at not more than four per cent. interest, and that in his opinion the play they had just seen had in part offset the influence of the lobbying bankers who had been hanging around the Assembly hall like buzzards for nearly a week.
Mr. Herne then came out and requested the audience to disperse, stating that four thousand other people were waiting outside for a repetition of the play.
The audience left reluctantly. No sooner was the theater cleared than the second audience made a rush for admission. It was only a few moments until the house was filled again from pit to gallery.
The interest manifested was fully as great as that evoked by the first performance, and the acting again was superb. At 11:20 o’clock the curtain fell on the last act for the second time that night.
The next morning early people from all parts of the city could be seen traveling in the direction of the State-house, in street-cars, carriages, on bicycles and afoot. All seemed to be intent and anxious. Fully fifteen thousand people were on the State-house grounds by nine o’clock. They talked, whispered, argued and made speeches. The sole theme was Betsy Gaskins and the new law. The antiquated crank was there, claiming that it “can’t be done,” “better leave things as they are.” Every now and then a lobbying banker could be seen, slipping along, eyes cast downward, as though he felt his guilt.
When the session opened the galleries of the Assembly room were filled with people. The State-house was full. The gavel of the speaker fell. The chaplain offered prayer. He prayed that right might prevail; that the poor and heavy-laden might be unburdened; that the bribe-taker, together with the bribe-giver, might perish from the land; and, above all, he invoked the blessings of Divine Providence on the acts of that particular day.
After prayer silence reigned a while. It was broken when a tall, partly bald, large-faced, keen-eyed law-maker over in the northeast corner of the hall arose in his seat, took a general survey of the house and galleries, took a large roll of money from his pocket, and, waving it above his head, said in thunder tones: