In the Arena - Stories of Political Life by Booth Tarkington
page 53 of 176 (30%)
page 53 of 176 (30%)
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State neither--that could of worked his precinck better'n I have
this. I tell you, I'm within five or six votes of the majority they set for their big money." "Have you give the Dagoes up altogether?" "No, by----!" cried the committee-man harshly, bringing his dirty fist down on the other's knee. "Did you ever hear of Frank Pixley weakenin'? Did you ever see the man that said Frank Pixley wasn't game?" He rose to his feet, a ragged and sinister silhouette against the sputtering electric light at the alley mouth. "Didn't you ever hear that Frank Pixley had a barrel of schemes to any other man's bucket o' wind? What's Frank Pixley's repitation, lemme ast you that? I git what I go after, don't I? Now look here, you listen to me," he said, lowering his voice and shaking a bent forefinger earnestly in the policeman's face; "I'm goin' to turn the trick. And I _ought_ to do it, too. That there Pete, he ain't worth the powder to blow him up--you couldn't learn him no politics if you set up with him night after night fer a year. Didn't I _try? Try_? I dern near bust my head open jest thinkin' up ways to make the flathead _see_. And he wouldn't make no effort, jest set there and parrot out 'Vote a Republican!' He's ongrateful, that's what he is. Well, him and them other Dagoes are goin' to stay at home fer two weeks, beginnin' to-night." "I'll be dogged if I see how," said the policeman, lifting his helmet to scratch his head. "I'll show you how. I don't claim no credit fer the idea, I ain't around blowin' my own horn too often, but I'd like fer somebody to |
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