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"Oh," he says, "you'll see it's reasonable by-and-by. Why not? Why, the campaign's begun. Some of the stuff is coming in to-morrow. You've no notion how they cottoned to the idea. I says to 'em this way. 'Course, I says, 'I'm a stranger, but it stands to reason the Don won't shake anybody out of bed nights that does his best to please him. Sure, he'd be reasonable.
He's used to being interrupted. They don't give him five minutes to himself all day long especially now that the campaign's on. He always does his serious work very early in the morning." They went through a hall, pleasantly odorous of baking in which good flour and good butter and good eggs were being manufactured into something probably appetizing, certainly wholesome.
The campaign's activities began with the battle of the Opequan, or, as it is perhaps more often designated, of Winchester.
"'All's fair in love and war," he grinned. "Besides, the campaign's over. Philo's gained experience. He's a veteran now. He'll never be such easy game again. Haven't we behaved well, on the whole?" he asked the Gay Lady, dropping upon a cushion at her feet. "I don't think you have," said the Gay Lady gently. "We haven't! Why not?" She shook her head.
It was a definite, clean-cut, unequivocal repudiation of the Old Guard's control of the Democratic party, and a convincing answer to every question that had been put to him. It rang true. Old-line Republicans, after reading this conclusive reply, shook their heads and said, regretfully, "Damn Record; the campaign's over."
You asked me when you begged me to get Adam out, and I predicted that he wouldn't get out." Mr. Flint took a turn up and down the room. "I'm sorry I didn't send for him to go to New York," he said. "Well, anyway, the campaign's been muddled, that's certain, whoever muddled it." And the president looked at his counsel as though he, at least, had no doubts on this point.
I go to Topeka to-morrow to answer Governor Crawford's call for volunteers for a cavalry company to go out on a winter campaign against the rascally redskins. They're going to get what they need. If you mix up with Custer, you'll see." "And when the campaign's over," queried O'mie, "will you stay in the army?" "No, O'mie, I'll find a place. The world is wide. But look here, boy.
"All right, thank you," said I, giving myself a shake, "but tremendously hungry. I could eat a horse!" At that he laughed, saying, "Before the campaign's over I daresay you will be glad to eat part of one" a prophecy that was more than fulfilled. Directly after breakfast the men were assembled, the colonel addressed them in a few stirring words, and the march began.
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