labor
was but thirty-seven and a-half cents a day.

The campaign was carried on with great bitterness in Congress,
where the leading Whigs cordially united in a decisive warfare on
the Democrats. General Harrison was eulogized as a second Cincinnatus
--plowman, citizen, and general--and the sneering remark that he
resided in a log-cabin was adopted as a partisan watch-word. The
most notable speech was by Mr. Ogle, of Pennsylvania, who elaborately
reviewed the expensive furniture, china, and glassware which had
been imported for the White House by order of President Van Buren.
He dwelt on the gorgeous splendor of the damask window curtains,
the dazzling magnificence of the large mirrors, chandeliers, and
candelabra; the centre-tables, with their tops of Italian marble;
the satin-covered chairs, tabourets, and divans; the imperial
carpets and rugs, and, above all, the service of silver, including
a set of what he called gold spoons, although they were of silver-
gilt. These costly decorations of the White House were described
in detail, with many humorous comments, and then contrasted with
the log-cabins of the West, where the only ornamentation, generally
speaking, was a string of speckled birds'-eggs festooned about a
looking-glass measuring eight by ten inches, and a fringed window
curtain of white cotton cloth.

Having described the furniture and the table service of the White
House, as purchased by direction of the President, Mr. Ogle proceeded
to sketch Van Buren's New Year receptions. "Instead," said he,
"of weekly receptions, when all the people were at liberty to
partake of the good cheer of the President's house, there had been
substituted one cold, stiff, formal, and ceremonious assembly on
the first day of every year. At this annual levee, notwithstanding
its pomp and pageantry, no expense whatever is incurred by the
President personally. No fruits, cake, wine, coffee, hard cider,
or other refreshments of any kind are tendered to his guests.
Indeed, it would militate against all the rules of court etiquette,
now established at the palace, to permit vulgar eating and drinking
on this grand gala day. The Marine Band, however, is always ordered
from the Navy Yard and stationed in the spacious front hall, from
whence they swell the rich saloons of the palace with 'Hail to the
Chief!' 'Wha'll be King but Charley?' and other humdrum airs, which
ravish with delight the ears of warriors who have never smelt