"angels" that, in half an hour's time, Tóth János, the poultry-dealer,
so closely resembled Tóth János, the potter, in outward appearance that
no question concerning his identity was raised, and his vote was
recorded.

Still, this was insufficient. True, we were now even with the foe, but
we were compelled to show a majority, even if it consisted only of a
single vote. If Richard III could offer "a kingdom for a horse," why
should not we offer "1,000 florins for a vote?"

Somebody made the discovery that on the outskirts of the village, in an
old tumble-down shanty of his own, lived a poor Jew with a lot of
half-starved, forlorn-looking children, and a half-crazed, careworn,
hard-working wife. The husband and father had been laid up with
consumption for the last few months, and was daily expected to die. This
poor wretch, who never in all his life had been the owner of an entire
suit of decent clothes--for when he had a hat, he invariably lacked
shoes, or when in possession of a coat, he was in sore want of a pair of
trousers--this poor fellow had yet a fortune at his call, for he could
bequeath to his family the 1,000 florins which we were willing to pay
for his vote. All his life he had been as honest as he was poor, earning
a miserable livelihood by setting glass panes in the village windows.
Nobody had ever thought of getting his vote, still less had he himself
thought of attaching any importance to the right he possessed as a
taxpayer. Our drummers found the poor fellow just in the act of taking
leave of this vale of care and sorrow; but they would not have been the
smart fellows they were if they had not succeeded in defeating Death
himself, and robbing him of his prey for as long as they needed. The
dying man stared vacantly into their faces when they offered him this
enormous sum of ready money, while his wife and children broke into a