loon-keeper.

"--The matchless character of our institutions that the people hold the
reins of government."

The orator is gathering an audience. "The people" are hungry, but love
of oratory is a still weaker place in their armor. The voice rises.
The eye flashes. The cheeks turn crimson. The form straightens.

The orator weeps and he thunders.

"Hi--_hi_!" says the hungry saloon-keeper, in sudden admiration.

"America! My fellow-countrymen, it is the palm of the desert--the rock
of liberty.

"We have a weapon firmer set,
And better than the bayonet;
A weapon that comes down as still
As snowflakes fall upon the sod;
But executes a freeman's will
As lightning does the will of God."

The effect is electric.

"Jiminy!" whistles the hungry saloonkeeper, "ain't we lucky we put him
up? I could sell fifty kag if he spoke anywhere in the same block."

CHAPTER IX

THE NIGHT BEFORE ELECTION

"The art of declamation," says Colton, "has been sinking in value from
the moment that speakers were foolish enough to publish and readers
wise enough to read."

All speakers are not foolish enough to publish; all readers are not
wise enough to read. Besides, there is still a distinct art of oratory
which has not lost its hold on the ears of men.

The orator weeps and he thunders. His audience by turns laments and
clamors. But the orator, on the inner side of his spirit, is more
calm. The practice of his wiles has dulled the edge of his feelings.

It may be, therefore, that the orator's art is not honest. Yet who
knows that the painter himself really admires the landscape which, in
his picture, gathers so much fame for him? The interests of the
nation are now to be husbanded in this First Congressional district.
The silvery voice of the gifted orator is to reclaim the wandering or
lagging voter.

The man who has lost faith in the power of the ballot is to be revived
with the stimulus of human speech. It can be done. It is done in
every campaign.

Lockwin is doing it each afternoon and night. Bravely he meets the cry
of "Money and machine." One would think he needed no better text.

But his secret text is Davy. Davy, whose life has been intrusted to
Dr. Floddin, the friend of the poor, the healer who healed the eyes of
the peddling huckster's son's sister, the eyes of the housekeeper's
relatives, and the eyes of Davy himself.

The orator's speech may be impassioned, but he is th