"The young gentleman is an exception," he returned. "I told you I owed

everything to him; my gratitude will not allow me to admit that his

ability is less than his stature. He suggested my purchase of a quantity

of Mr. Watts's oil stock when it was knocked flat on its back by two wells

turning out dry; but if Mr. Watts's third well comes in, and young Fisbee

has convinced me that it will, and if my Midas's extra booms the stock and

the boom develops, I shall oppose the income tax. Poor old Plattville will

be full of strangers and speculators, and the 'Herald' will advocate vast

improvements to impress the investor's eye. Stagnation and picturesqueness

will flee together; it is the history of the Indiana town. Already the

'Herald' is clamoring with Schofields' Henry--you remember the bell-

ringer?--for Main Street to be asphalted. It will all come. The only

trouble with young Fisbee is that he has too much ability."

"And yet the daily will not succeed?"

"No. That's too big a jump, unless my young man's expressions on the

tariff command a wide sale amongst curio-hunters."

"Then he is quite a fool about political matters?"

"Far from it; he is highly ingenious. His editorials are often the

subtlest cups of flattery I ever sipped, many of them showing assiduous

study of old files to master the method and notions of his eagle-eyed

predecessor. But the tariff seems to have got him. He is a very masculine

person, except for this one feminine quality, for, if I may say it without

ungallantry, there is a legend that no woman has ever understood the

tariff. Young Fisbee must be an extremely travelled person, because the

custom-house people have made an impression upon him which no few

encounters with them could explain, and he conceives the tariff to be a

law which discommodes a lady who has been purchasing gloves in Paris. He

thinks smuggling the great evil of the present tariff system; it is such a

temptation, so insidious a break-down of moral fibre. His views must edify

Carlow."

She gave a quick, stifled cry. "Oh! there isn't a word of truth in what

you say! Not a word! I did not think you could be so cruel!"

He bent forward, peering at her in astonishment.

"Cruel!"

"You know it is a hateful distortion--an exaggeration!" she exclaimed

passionately. "No man living could have so little sense as you say he has.

The tariff is perfectly plain to any child. When you were in Plattville

you weren't like this--I didn't know you were unkind!"




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