书城外语欧·亨利经典短篇小说
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第69章 27The Hand that Riles the World(1)

“Many of our great men,” said I (apropos of manythings), “have declared that they owe their success to theaid and encouragement of some brilliant woman.”

“I know,” said Jeff Peters. “I’ve read in history andmythology about Joan of Arc and Mme. Yale and Mrs.

Caudle and Eve and other noted females of the past. But,in my opinion, the woman of to-day is of little use inpolitics or business. What’s she best in, anyway? —menmake the best cooks, milliners, nurses, housekeepers,stenographers, clerks, hairdressers and launderers. Aboutthe only job left that a woman can beat a man in is femaleimpersonator in vaudeville.”

“I would have thought,” said I, “that occasionally,anyhow, you would have found the wit and intuition ofwoman valuable to you in your lines of—er—business.”

“Now, wouldn’t you,” said Jeff, with an emphatic nod—“wouldn’t you have imagined that? But a woman is anabsolutely unreliable partner in any straight swindle. She’sliable to turn honest on you when you are depending uponher the most. I tried ’em once.

“Bill Humble, an old friend of mine in the Territories,conceived the illusion that he wanted to be appointedUnited States Marshall. At that time me and Andy wasdoing a square, legitimate business of selling walkingcanes. If you unscrewed the head of one and turned itup to your mouth a half pint of good rye whiskey wouldgo trickling down your throat to reward you for your actof intelligence. The deputies was annoying me and Andysome, and when Bill spoke to me about his officiousaspirations, I saw how the appointment as Marshall mighthelp along the firm of Peters & Tucker.

“‘Jeff,’ says Bill to me, ‘you are a man of learning andeducation, besides having knowledge and informationconcerning not only rudiments but facts and attainments.’

“‘I do,’ says I, ‘and I have never regretted it. I am notone,’ says I, ‘who would cheapen education by makingit free. Tell me,’ says I, ‘which is of the most value tomankind, literature or horse racking?’

“‘Why—er—, playing the po—I mean, of course, thepoets and the great writers have got the call, of course,’

says Bill.

“‘Exactly,’ says I. ‘Then why do the master minds offinance and philanthropy,’ says I, ‘charge us 2 to get intoa race-track and let us into a library free? Is that distillinginto the masses,’ says I, ‘a correct estimate of the relativevalue of the two means of self-culture and disorder?’

“‘You are arguing outside of my faculties of sense andrhetoric,’ says Bill. ‘What I wanted you to do is to goto Washington and dig out this appointment for me. Ihaven’t no ideas of cultivation and intrigue. I’m a plaincitizen and I need the job. I’ve killed seven men,’ says Bill;‘I’ve got nine children; I’ve been a good Republican eversince the first of May; I can’t read nor write, and I seeno reason why I ain’t illegible for the office. And I thinkyour partner, Mr. Tucker,’ goes on Bill, ‘is also a man ofsufficient ingratiation and connected system of mentaldelinquency to assist you in securing the appointment.

I will give you preliminary,’ says Bill, ‘1,000 for drinks,bribes and carfare in Washington. If you land the job Iwill pay you 1,000 more, cash down, and guarantee youimpunity in boot-legging whiskey for twelve months.

Are you patriotic to the West enough to help me put thisthing through the Whitewashed Wigwam of the GreatFather of the most eastern flag station of the PennsylvaniaRailroad?’ says Bill.

“Well, I talked to Andy about it, and he liked the ideaimmense. Andy was a man of an involved nature. Hewas never content to plod along, as I was, selling to thepeasantry some little tool like a combination steakbeater, shoe horn, marcel waver, monkey wrench, nailfile, potato masher and Multum in Parvo tuning fork.

Andy had the artistic temper, which is not to be judgedas a preacher’s or a moral man’s is by purely commercialdeflections. So we accepted Bill’s offer, and strikes out forWashington.

“Says I to Andy, when we get located at a hotel onSouth Dakota Avenue, G.S.S.W. ‘Now Andy, for the firsttime in our lives we’ve got to do a real dishonest act.

Lobbying is something we’ve never been used to; butwe’ve got to scandalize ourselves for Bill Humble’s sake.

In a straight and legitimate business,’ says I, ‘we couldafford to introduce a little foul play and chicanery, butin a disorderly and heinous piece of malpractice like thisit seems to me that the straightforward and aboveboardway is the best. I propose,’ says I, ‘that we hand over 500of this money to the chairman of the national campaigncommittee, get a receipt, lay the receipt on the President’sdesk and tell him about Bill. The President is a man whowould appreciate a candidate who went about gettingoffice that way instead of pulling wires.’

“Andy agreed with me, but after we talked the schemeover with the hotel clerk we give that plan up. He toldus that there was only one way to get an appointment inWashington, and that was through a lady lobbyist. He gaveus the address of one he recommended, a Mrs. Avery, whohe said was high up in sociable and diplomatic rings andcircles.

“The next morning at 10 o’clock me and Andy called ather hotel, and was shown up to her reception room.

“This Mrs. Avery was a solace and a balm to theeyesight. She had hair the color of the back of a twentydollar gold certificate, blue eyes and a system of beautythat would make the girl on the cover of a July magazinelook like a cook on a Monongahela coal barge.