he one man preeminently fitted
to represent the state in the present crisis, when her great industries
had been crippled by Democratic folly, was Mr. Theodore Watling. The
Rossiter Banner, the Elkington Star, the Belfast Recorder, and I know
not how many others simultaneously began to sing Mr. Watling's praises.

"Not since the troublous times of the Civil War," declared the Morning
Era, "had the demand for any man been so unanimous." As a proof of it,
there were the country newspapers, "which reflected the sober opinion of
the firesides of the common people."

There are certain industrious gentlemen to whom little credit is given,
and who, unlike the average citizen who reserves his enthusiasm for
election time, are patriotic enough to labour for their country's good
all the year round. When in town, it was their habit to pay a friendly
call on the Counsel for the Railroad, Mr. Miller Gorse, in the Corn
Bank Building. He was never too busy to converse with them; or, it
might better be said, to listen to them converse. Let some legally
and politically ambitious young man observe Mr. Gorse's method. Did he
inquire what the party worker thought of Mr. Watling for the Senate? Not
at all! But before the party worker left he was telling Mr. Gorse that
public sentiment demanded Mr. Watling. After leaving Mr. Gorse they
wended their way to the Durrett Building and handed their cards over
the rail of the offices of Watling, Fowndes and Ripon. Mr. Watling shook
hands with scores of them, and they departed, well satisfied with the
flavour of his cigars and intoxicated by his personality. He had a
marvellous way of cutting short an interview without giving offence.
Some of them he turned over to Mr. Paret, whom he particularly desired
they should know. Thus Mr. Paret acquired many valuable additions to his
acquaintance, cultivated a memory for names and faces that was to stand
him in good stead; and kept, besides, an indexed note-book into which he
put various bits of interesting information concerning each. Though
not immediately lucrative, it was all, no doubt, part of a lawyer's
education.

During the summer and the following winter Colonel Paul Varney came
often to town and spent much of his time in Mr. Paret's office smoking
Mr. Watling's cigars and discussing the coming campaign, in which he
took a whole-souled interest.

"Say, Hugh, this is goin' slick!" he would exclaim, his eyes glittering
like round buttons of jet. "