IUS JOHNSON, OFFICE-SEEKER

It was a beautiful day in balmy May and the sun shone pleasantly on
Mr. Cornelius Johnson's very spruce Prince Albert suit of grey as he
alighted from the train in Washington. He cast his eyes about him, and
then gave a sigh of relief and satisfaction as he took his bag from
the porter and started for the gate. As he went along, he looked with
splendid complacency upon the less fortunate mortals who were
streaming out of the day coaches. It was a Pullman sleeper on which he
had come in. Out on the pavement he hailed a cab, and giving the
driver the address of a hotel, stepped in and was rolled away. Be it
said that he had cautiously inquired about the hotel first and found
that he could be accommodated there.

As he leaned back in the vehicle and allowed his eyes to roam over the
streets, there was an air of distinct prosperity about him. It was in
evidence from the tips of his ample patent-leather shoes to the crown
of the soft felt hat that sat rakishly upon his head. His entrance
into Washington had been long premeditated, and he had got himself up
accordingly.

It was not such an imposing structure as he had fondly imagined,
before which the cab stopped and set Mr. Johnson down. But then he
reflected that it was about the only house where he could find
accommodation at all, and he was content. In Alabama one learns to be
philosophical. It is good to be philosophical in a place where the
proprietor of a cafe fumbles vaguely around in the region of his hip
pocket and insinuates that he doesn't want one's custom. But the
visitor's ardor was not cooled for all that. He signed the register
with a flourish, and bestowed a liberal fee upon the shabby boy who
carried his bag to his room.

"Look here, boy," he said, "I am expecting some callers soon. If they
come, just send them right up to my room. You take good care of me and
look sharp when I ring and you'll not lose anything."

Mr. Cornelius Johnson always spoke in a large and important tone. He
said the simplest thing with an air so impressive as to give it the
character of a pronouncement. Indeed, his voice naturally was round,
mellifluous and persuasive. He carried himself always as if he were
passing under his own triumphal arch. Perhaps, more than anything
else, it was these qualities of speech and bearing that had made him
invaluable on the stump in the recent campaign in Alabama. Whatever it
was that held the secret of his power