The Plum Tree | Page 6

fellow, what can I do for you?"
"Mr. Fessenden told me you wanted to see me," said I.
"He didn't say nothing of the sort," growled Dominick. "I've knowed
Buck seventeen years, and he ain't no liar."
I flushed and glanced at the distinguished company silently waiting to
return to the royal presence. Surely, if these eminent fellow citizens of
mine endured this insulting monarch, I could,--I, the youthful, the
obscure, the despondent. Said I: "Perhaps I did not express myself quite
accurately. Fessenden told me you were considering making me your
candidate for county prosecutor, and suggested that I call and see you."
[Illustration: HE SHIFTED HIS CIGAR TO SAY: "WELL, YOUNG
FELLOW, WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU?" p. 20]
Dominick gave a gleam and a grunt like a hog that has been flattered
with a rough scratching of its hide. But he answered: "I don't give no
nominations. That's the province of the party, young man."
"But you are the party," was my reply. At the time I was not conscious
that I had thus easily dropped down among the hide-scratchers. I
assured myself that I was simply stating the truth, and ignored the fact
that telling the truth can be the most degrading sycophancy, and the
subtlest and for that reason the most shameless, lying.
"Well, I guess I've got a little something to say about the party," he
conceded. "Us young fellows that are active in politics like to see
young fellows pushed to the front. A good many of the boys ain't stuck
on Ben Cass,--he's too stuck on himself. He's getting out of touch with

the common people, and is boot-licking in with the swells up town. So,
when I heard you wanted the nomination for prosecutor, I told Buck to
trot you round and let us look you over. Good party man?"
"Yes--and my father and grandfather before me."
"No reform germs in your system?"
I laughed--I was really amused, such a relief was it to see a gleam of
pleasantry in that menacing mass. "I'm no better than my party," said I,
"and I don't desert it just because it doesn't happen to do everything
according to my notions."
"That's right," approved Dominick, falling naturally into the role of
political schoolmaster. "There ain't no government without
responsibility, and there ain't no responsibility without organization,
and there ain't no organization without men willing to sink their
differences." He paused.
I looked my admiration,--I was most grateful to him for this chance to
think him an intellect. Who likes to admit that he bows before a mere
brute? The compulsory courtiers of a despot may possibly and in part
tell the truth about him, after they are safe; but was there ever a
voluntary courtier whose opinion of his monarch could be believed?
The more distinguished the courtier the greater his necessity to
exaggerate his royal master--or mistress--to others and to himself.
Dominick forged on: "Somebody's got to lead, and the leader's got to be
obeyed. Otherwise what becomes of the party? Why, it goes to hell, and
we've got anarchy."
This was terse, pointed, plausible--the stereotyped "machine" argument.
I nodded emphatically.
"Ben Cass," he proceeded, "believes in discipline and organization and
leadership only when they're to elect him to a fat job. He wants to use
the party, but when the party wants service in return, up goes Mr. Cass'
snout and tail, and off he lopes. He's what I call a cast iron--" I shall

omit the vigorous phrase wherein he summarized Cass. His vocabulary
was not large; he therefore frequently resorted to the garbage barrel and
the muck heap for missiles.
I showed in my face my scorn for the Cass sort of selfishness and
insubordination. "The leader has all the strings in his hand," said I.
"He's the only one who can judge what must be done. He must be
trusted and obeyed."
"I see you've got the right stuff in you, young man," said Dominick
heartily. "So you want the job?"
I hesitated,--I was thinking of him, of his bestial tyranny, and of my
self-respect, unsullied, but also untempted, theretofore.
He scowled. "Do you, or don't you?"
"Yes," said I,--I was thinking of the debts and mother and Betty. "Yes,
indeed; I'd esteem it a great honor, and I'd be grateful to you." If I had
thrust myself over-head into a sewer I should have felt less vile than I
did as my fears and longings uttered those degrading words.
He grunted. "Well, we'll see. Tell the boys at the other table to come
back." He nodded a dismissal and gave me that moist, strong grip
again.
As I went toward the other table each man there had a hand round his
glass in readiness for the message of recall.