gs to
give a prejudiced account of this struggle. The Honourable Brush Bascom,
skilled from youth in the use of weapons, opened the combat so adroitly
that more than once the followers of his noble opponent winced and
trembled. The bill, Mr. Bascom said, would have been reported that
day, anyway--a statement received with mingled cheers and jeers. Then
followed a brief and somewhat intimate history of the Gaylord Lumber
Company, not at all flattering to that corporation. Mr. Bascom hinted,
at an animus: there was no more need for a railroad in the Pingsquit
Valley than there was for a merry-go-round in the cellar of the
state-house. (Loud laughter from everybody, some irreverent person
crying out that a merry-go-round was better than poker tables.) When Mr.
Bascom came to discuss the gentleman from Leith, and recited the names
of the committees for which Mr. Crewe--in his desire to be of service to
the State had applied, there was more laughter, even amongst Mr. Crewe's
friends, and Mr. Speaker Doby relaxed so far as to smile sadly. Mr.
Bascom laid his watch on the clerk's desk and began to read the list of
bills Mr. Crewe had introduced, and as this reading proceeded some of
the light-minded showed a tendency to become slightly hysterical.
Mr. Bascom said that he would like to see all those bills grow
into laws,--with certain slight changes,--but that he could not
conscientiously vote to saddle the people with another Civil War
debt. It was well for the State, he hinted, that those committees
were composed of stanch men who would do their duty in all weathers,
regardless of demagogues who sought to gratify inordinate ambitions.

The hope of the revolutionists bore these strokes and others as mighty
with complacency, as though they had been so many playful taps; and
while the battle surged hotly around him he sat calmly listening or
making occasional notes with a gold pencil. Born leader that he was,
he was biding his time. Mr. Bascom's attack was met valiantly, but
unskillfully, from the back seats. The Honourable Jacob Botcher arose,
and filled the hall with extracts from the "Book of Arguments"--in
which he had been coached overnight by the Honourable Hilary Vane. Mr.
Botcher's tone towards his erstwhile friend was regretful,--a good
man gone wrong through impulse and inexperience. "I am, sir," said
Mr. Bascom to the Speaker, "sincerely sorry--sincerely sorry that an
individual of such ability as the member from Leit