y (chosen children of Israel) must be kept free from the domination
of corporations. (Cheers and banner waving for a full minute.) Some
better method of choosing delegates which will more truly reflect the
will of the people. (Plank of the Honourable Jacob Botcher, whose
conscience is awakening.) Never mind the rest. It is a triumph for Mr.
Crewe, and is all printed in that orthodox (reform) newspaper, the State
Tribune, with urgent editorials that it must be carried out to the
letter.

And what now? Delegates, credential holders, audience, and the Reverend
Mr. Crane draw long breaths of heated carbon dioxide. Postmaster Burrows
of Edmundton, in rounded periods, is putting in nomination his
distinguished neighbour and fellow-citizen, the Honourable Adam B. Hunt,
who can subscribe and say amen to every plank in that platform. He
believes it, he has proclaimed it in public, and he embodies it. Mr.
Burrows indulges in slight but effective sarcasm of sham reformers and
so-called business men who perform the arduous task of cutting coupons
and live in rarefied regions where they can only be seen by the common
people when the light is turned on. (Cheers from two partisan bodies and
groans and hisses from another. General Doby, with a pained face,
pounding with the gavel. This isn't a circumstance to what's coming,
General.)

After General Doby has succeeded in abating the noise in honour-of the
Honourable Adam, there is a hush of expectancy. Humphrey Crewe, who has
made all this trouble and enthusiasm, is to be nominated next, and the
Honourable Timothy Wailing of Newcastle arises to make that celebrated
oration which the cynical have called the "thousand-dollar speech." And
even if they had named it well (which is not for a moment to be
admitted!), it is cheap for the price. How Mr. Crewe's ears must tingle
as he paces his headquarters in the Pelican! Almost would it be sacrilege
to set down cold, on paper, the words that come, burning, out of the
Honourable Timothy's loyal heart. Here, gentlemen, is a man at last, not
a mere puppet who signs his name when a citizen of New York pulls the
string; one who is prepared to make any sacrifice,--to spend his life, if
need be, in their service. (A barely audible voice, before the cheering
commences, "I guess that's so.") Humphrey Crewe needs no defence--the
Honourable Timothy avers--at his hands, or any one's. Not merely an
idealist, but a practical man who has studied the needs of