hat barnacled
old frigate) would have been for its oft-repeated rejection of his own
piloting.
The permanent chairman now disclosed was a man of business, who thanked
the convention briefly and went to work. By the time the committee on
resolutions had presented the platform (on which Bassett and Harwood had
collaborated) the convention enjoyed its first sensation as Thatcher
appeared, moving slowly down the crowded main aisle to join the
delegation of his county. His friends had planned a demonstration for
his entrance, and in calling it an ovation the newspapers hardly
magnified its apparent spontaneity and volume. The man who had
undertaken the herculean task of driving Morton Bassett out of politics
was entitled to consideration, and his appearance undoubtedly
interrupted the business of the convention for fully five minutes.
Thatcher bowed and waved his hand as he sat down. The cordiality of his
reception both pleased and embarrassed him. He fanned himself with his
hat and feigned indifference to the admiration of his countrymen.
"Papa always gets more applause than that," Marian remarked to Sylvia.
"I was at the state convention two years ago and father came in late,
just as Mr. Thatcher did. They always come in late after all the stupid
speeches have been made; they're surer to stir up a big rumpus that
way."
Sylvia gave serious heed to these transactions of history. Her knowledge
of politics was largely derived from lectures she had heard at college
and from a diligent reading of newspapers. The report of the committee
on resolutions--a succinct document to each of whose paragraphs the
delegates rose in stormy approval--had just been read.
"I don't see how you can listen to such stuff," said Marian during a
lull in the shouting. "It's only the platform and they don't mean a word
of it. There's Colonel Ramsay, of Aurora,--the man with white hair who
has just come on the stage. He had dinner at our house once and he's
perfectly lovely. He's a beautiful speaker, but they won't let him speak
any more because he was a gold bug--whatever that is. They say Colonel
Ramsay has stopped gold-bugging now and wants to be governor. Sylvia,
all these men that don't want to be United States Senator want to be
governor. Isn't it funny? I don't see why silver money isn't just as
good as any other kind, do you?"
"They told me at college," said Sylvia, "but it's rather complicated.
Why didn't your father come to the conv
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