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Every election has its Mark Hanna; this time it was Jennie Brown, whom Pellams knew as "Boggsie's dig girl cousin." She was the silent spirit of the whole Boggs campaign. Mason, in telling the story of it afterward, said: "Pellams and I were there when the polls opened. That girl was on hand, too, with a gang of Palo Alto girls all ready to start things for Boggsie.
He revelled in it. "We have to put up some show of constituents, you know," he said to Mason; "and, as Higgins and Castleton have no strings on me, I might as well help Boggsie out. Too bad my personal magnetism isn't being diffused for a more likely candidate." "Looks curious," said Jimmy, "the fight Boggs is putting up.
I'd love to get a feed out of him in some way; oh, it would taste good!" Pellams' ruddy face glowed fire-red with the dawn of an idea. His inspiration had come. "James Russell Lowell Mason, I'll bet you the price of anything you name that I can get a feed, a genuine, Mayfield-with-all-accompaniments, a Mayfield beer-beefsteak-Swiss-cheese-wine-and-song feed out of Boggsie!"
But the fat Junior sat there with mirth shining from every line of his face, and drank his coffee; then he rolled on the floor in joyous delirium and beat Jimmy's rugs with an Indian club until the man overhead jumped out of bed and shouted uncultured things down the elevator. "Jimmy, darling!" cried he, waving a leg in the air for pure rapture, "Boggsie will treat, sure.
Say, it's funny how tired people in general are getting of Higgins and Castleton and their gang politics. At Palo Alto yesterday I heard a crowd talking about it. 'Down with organized politics, they said, and one of them who works in the laboratory with Boggsie said he was going to vote for modest merit." "Keep it going, Pellams, it won't hurt. Soothe his feelings beautifully after the banquet.
He loafs in Frank's room until Frank has had to give up smoking. It's fun to see him. I was in there the other night. 'How are you going to stand on the election, Frank? says Boggsie, as though it were a conference of the powers. 'Oh, I think Higgins is pretty good, says Frank; 'what do you think? Not that he gave a whoop; he was trying to be polite.
Say, when Boggsie saw the whole gang of us, he was a balloon. He got up on a truck and made us a speech of thanks. Pellams and I yelled 'Hear, Hear, right along. Oh, it was awful! He gave us the whole history of the Student-Body from the days of 'Ninety-one up. Finally Pellams couldn't stand it any longer and called out, 'Good boy, Boggsie.
'Well, I may use my influence for Castleton, says Boggsie, with his pet air of mystery. His influence consists of his roommate. 'The deuce you will! says Frank, with sarcasm. All wasted though, for Boggsie fairly chapped at the compliment of having surprised him.
We'll make Boggsie think he's ahead all the time; we can get him some votes, you know; and then he's to go away election day for the sake of the proprieties. I telegraph to him, 'Elected by one vote.
How about that feed? and Boggsie waved his hand like a Tuesday evening spieler and said, 'I have provided for that, ladies and gentlemen. Miss Brown, my cousin, invites you all down to her home in Palo Alto for a little refreshment. Everyone is welcome. "I had to pick my fat friend up. Boggsie's getting out of the whole thing without spending a bean knocked him cold. But he got his wind later.
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