The Essential Winston Churchill Collection. Winston Churchill
Читать онлайн книгу.
so busy--"
"Peoples' business, I understand. Er--hear you've gone in for high-minded politics, Heth--r-read a highminded speech of yours--two high-minded speeches. Always thought you was a high-minded man, Heth."
"How did you like those speeches, Jethro?" asked Mr. Sutton, striving as best he might to make some show of dignity.
"Th-thought they was high-minded," said Jethro.
Then there was a silence, for Mr. Sutton could think of nothing more to say. And he yearned to depart with a great yearning, but something held him there.
"Heth," said Jethro after a while, "you was always very friendly and obliging. You've done a great many favors for me in your life."
"I've always tried to be neighborly, Jethro," said Mr. Sutton, but his voice sounded a little husky even to himself.
"And I may have done one or two little things for you, Heth," Jethro continued, "but I can't remember exactly. Er--can you remember, Heth."
Mr. Sutton was trying with becoming nonchalance to light the stump of his cigar. He did not succeed this time. He pulled himself together with a supreme effort.
"I think we've both been mutually helpful, Jethro," he said, "mutually helpful."
"Well," said Jethro, reflectively, "I don't know as I could have put it as well as that--there's somethin' in being an orator."
There was another silence, a much longer one. The Honorable Heth threw his butt away, and lighted another cigar. Suddenly, as if by magic, his aplomb returned, and in a flash of understanding he perceived the situation. He saw himself once more as the successful congressman, the trusted friend of the railroad interests, and he saw Jethro as a discredited boss. He did not stop to reflect that Jethro did not act like a discredited boss, as a keener man might have done. But if the Honorable Heth had been a keener man, he would not have been at that time a congressman. Mr. Sutton accused himself of having been stupid in not grasping at once that the tables were turned, and that now he was the one to dispense the gifts.
"K-kind of fortunate you stopped to speak to me, Heth. N-now I come to think of it, I hev a little favor to ask of you."
"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Sutton, blowing out the smoke; "of course anything I can do, Jethro--anything in reason."
"W-wouldn't ask a high-minded man to do anything he hadn't ought to," said Jethro; "the fact is, I'd like to git Eph Prescott appointed at the Brampton post-office. You can fix that, Heth--can't you--you can fix that?"
Mr. Sutton stuck his thumb into his vest pocket and cleared his throat.
"I can't tell you how sorry I am not to oblige you, Jethro, but I've arranged to give that post-office to Dave Wheelock."
"A-arranged it, hev You--a-arranged it?"
"Why, yes," said Mr. Sutton, scarcely believing his own ears. Could it be possible that he was using this patronizingly kind tone to Jethro Bass?
"Well, that's too bad," said Jethro; "g-got it all fixed, hev you?"
"Practically," answered Mr. Sutton, grandly; "indeed, I may go as far as to say that it is as certain as if I had the appointment here in my pocket. I'm sorry not to oblige you, Jethro; but these are matters which a member of Congress must look after pretty closely." He held out his hand, but Jethro did not appear to see it,--he had his in his pockets. "I've an important engagement," said the Honorable Heth, consulting a large gold watch. "Are you going to be in Washington long?"
"G-guess I've about got through, Heth--g-guess I've about got through," said Jethro.
"Well, if you have time and there's any other little thing, I'm in Room 29," said Mr. Sutton, as he put his foot on the stairway.
"T-told Worthington you got that app'intment for Wheelock--t-told Worthington?" Jethro called out after him.
Mr. Sutton turned and waved his cigar and smiled in acknowledgment of this parting bit of satire. He felt that he could afford to smile. A few minutes later he was ensconced on the sofa of a private sitting room reviewing the incident, with much gusto, for the benefit of Mr. Isaac D. Worthington and Mr. Alexander Duncan. Both of these gentlemen laughed heartily, for the Honorable Heth Sutton knew the art of telling a story well, at least, and was often to be seen with a group around him in the lobbies of Congress.
CHAPTER VI
About five o'clock that afternoon Ephraim was sitting in his shirt-sleeves by the window of his room, and Cynthia was reading aloud to him an article (about the war, of course) from a Washington paper, which his friend, Mr. Beard, had sent him. There was a knock at the door, and Cynthia opened it to discover a colored hall-boy with a roll in his hand.
"Mistah Ephum Prescott?" he said.
"Yes," answered Ephraim, "that's me."
Cynthia shut the door and gave him the roll, but Ephraim took it as though he were afraid of its contents.
"Guess it's some of them war records from Amasy," he said.
"Oh, Cousin Eph," exclaimed Cynthia, excitedly, "why don't you open it? If you don't I will."
"Guess you'd better, Cynthy," and he held it out to her with a trembling hand.
Cynthia did open it, and drew out a large document with seals and printing and signatures.
"Cousin Eph," she cried, holding it under his nose, "Cousin Eph, you're postmaster of Brampton!"
Ephraim looked at the paper, but his eyes swam, and he could only make out a dancing, bronze seal.
"I want to know!" he exclaimed. "Fetch Jethro."
But Cynthia had already flown on that errand. Curiously enough, she ran into Jethro in the hall immediately outside of Ephraim's door. Ephraim got to his feet; it was very difficult for him to realize that his troubles were ended, that he was to earn his living at last. He looked at Jethro, and his eyes filled with tears. "I guess I can't thank you as I'd ought to, Jethro," he said, "leastways, not now."
"I'll thank him for you, Cousin Eph," said Cynthia. And she did.
"D-don't thank me," said Jethro, "I didn't have much to do with it, Eph. Thank the President."
Ephraim did thank the President, in one of the most remarkable letters, from a literary point of view, ever received at the White House. For the art of literature largely consists in belief in what one is writing, and Ephraim's letter had this quality of sincerity, and no lack of vividness as well. He spent most of the evening in composing it.
Cynthia, too, had received a letter that day--a letter which she had read several times, now with a smile, and again with a pucker of the forehead which was meant for a frown. "Dear Cynthia," it said. "Where do you keep yourself? I am sure you would not be so cruel if you knew that I was aching to see you." Aching! Cynthia repeated the word, and remembered the glimpse she had had of him in the dining room with Miss Janet Duncan. "Whenever I have been free" (Cynthia repeated this also, somewhat ironically, although she conceded it the merit of frankness), "Whenever I have been free, I have haunted the corridors for a sight of you. Think of me as haunting the hotel desk for an answer to this, telling me when I can see you--and where. P.S. I shall be around all evening." And it was signed, "Your friend and playmate, R. Worthington."
It is a fact--not generally known--that Cynthia did answer the letter--twice. But she sent neither answer. Even at that age she was given to reflection,