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Any man who wants to get the votes of the Missinaba farmers and the Mariposa business men has got to persuade them that he's the right man. If he can do that, if he can persuade any one of them that he is the right man and that all the rest know it, then they'll vote for him. The division, I repeat, between the Liberals and the Conservatives, is intense.
But if you step up to speak to him or walk with him into the enchanted house, pray modulate your voice a little musical though it is for there is said to be an enchanted baby on the premises whose sleep must not lightly be disturbed. TEN. The Great Election in Missinaba County Don't ask me what election it was, whether Dominion or Provincial or Imperial or Universal, for I scarcely know.
There was no doubt about the hour, not only seven, but seven sharp. The notice in the Newspacket said: "The boat will leave sharp at seven;" and the advertising posters on the telegraph poles on Missinaba Street that began "Ho, for Indian's Island!" ended up with the words: "Boat leaves at seven sharp." There was a big notice on the wharf that said: "Boat leaves sharp on time."
It was during this period, for example, that the Mariposa Newspacket absolutely proved that the price of hogs in Mariposa was decimal six higher than the price of oranges in Southern California and that the average decennial import of eggs into Missinaba County had increased four decimal six eight two in the last fifteen years more than the import of lemons in New Orleans. Most certainly.
And there was such a roar and a tumult to it, and such a waving of flags and beating of drums and flaring of torchlights that such parts of the election as may have been going on elsewhere than in Missinaba county must have been quite unimportant and didn't really matter. Now that it is all over, we can look back at it without heat or passion.
It was the first time in five elections that the Conservative had been able to make such a showing as that. One might mention, too, that there were Drone placards out, five or six of them, little things about the size of a pocket handkerchief, with a statement that "Mr. Edward Drone solicits the votes of the electors of Missinaba County." But you would never notice them.
Missinaba County, I say, is a regular hive of politics, and not the miserable, crooked, money-ridden politics of the cities, but the straight, real old-fashioned thing that is an honour to the country side. Any man who would offer to take a bribe or sell his convictions for money, would be an object of scorn.
Then, amid a deep stillness, Bagshaw read off the list of prices of sixteen kinds of grain in sixteen different places during sixteen years. "But let me turn," Bagshaw went on to another phase of the national subject, "and view for a moment the price of marsh hay in Missinaba County " When Bagshaw sat down that night it was felt that a Liberal vote in Tecumseh Township was a foregone conclusion.
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