Nor when he was moved on and down to make way for some
ne'er-do-well with influence, with a brother-in- law in the Senate,
with a cousin owning a newspaper, with rich relatives who desired
him to drink himself to death at the expense of the government
rather than at their own, did old man Marshall point to his record
as a claim for more just treatment.

And it had been an excellent record. His official reports, in a
quaint, stately hand, were models of English; full of information,
intelligent, valuable, well observed. And those few of his
countrymen, who stumbled upon him in the out-of- the-world places
to which of late he had been banished, wrote of him to the
department in terms of admiration and awe. Never had he or his
friends petitioned for promotion, until it was at last apparent
that, save for his record and the memory of his dead patron, he had
no friends. But, still in the department the tradition held and,
though he was not advanced, he was not dismissed.

"If that old man's been feeding from the public trough ever since
the Civil War," protested a "practical" politician, "it seems to
me, Mr. Secretary, that he's about had his share. Ain't it time he
give some one else a bite? Some of us that has, done the work, that
has borne the brunt----"

"This place he now holds," interrupted the Secretary of State
suavely, "is one hardly commensurate with services like yours. I
can't pronounce the name of it, and I'm not sure just where it is,
but I see that, of the last six consuls we sent there, three
resigned within a month and the other three died of yellow-fever.
Still, if you. insist----"