He would sit half the night over
his political editorials, smiling grimly to himself, and
when he threw himself back in his chair and laughed like
a boy the knife was turned in someone!
One day Mr. James Ducker, lately retired farmer, sometimes
insurance agent, read in the Winnipeg Telegram that his
friend the Honourable Thomas Snider had chaperoned an
Elk party to St. Paul. Mr. Ducker had but a hazy idea of
the duties of a chaperon, but he liked the sound of it,
and it set him thinking. He remembered when Tom Snider
had entered politics with a decayed reputation, a large
whiskey bill, and about $2.20 in cash. Now he rode in a
private car, and had a suite of rooms at the Empire, and
the papers often spoke of him as "mine host" Snider. Mr.
Ducker turned over the paper and read that the genial
Thomas had replied in a very happy manner to a toast at
the Elks' banquet. Whereupon Mr. Ducker became wrapped
in deep thought, and during this passive period he
distinctly heard his country's call! The call came in
these words: "If Tom Snider can do it, why not me?"
The idea took hold of him. He began to brush his hair
artfully over the bald spot. He made strange faces at
his mirror, wondering which side of his face would be
the best to have photographed for his handbills. He saw
himself like Cincinnatus of old called from the plough
to the Senate, but he told himself there could not have
been as good a thing in it then as there is now, or
Cincinnatus would not have come back to the steers.
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