The Statesmen Snowbound

The Statesmen Snowbound, by
Robert Fitzgerald

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Title: The Statesmen Snowbound
Author: Robert Fitzgerald
Illustrator: Wad el Ward
Release Date: November 30, 2006 [EBook #19966]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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STATESMEN SNOWBOUND ***

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THE STATESMEN SNOWBOUND

By ROBERT FITZGERALD
Illustrated by Wad-el-Ward
New York and Washington THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY
1909

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.
The Funeral
II. Senator Bull and Mr. Ridley--Trials and Tribulations of the Newly
Fledged Member
III. Colonel Manysnifters--An Outing with the "Jewels"
IV. An Accident--Dinner
V. Senator Bull's Story
VI. Representative Holloway Has the Floor
VII. Representative Van Rensselaer Unfolds a Strange Tale
VIII. Senator Wendell Reads "The Creaking of the Stairs"
IX. Senator Hammond's Experience
X. Mr. Callahan's Story
XI. What Happened to Denmead
XII. O'Brien's Narrative

XIII. An Uninvited Guest

ILLUSTRATIONS
Senator Bull and Sammy Ridley
President Madison
Senator Pennypacker
Colonel Ross Addressing the Jury
"Stick to the Thirteenth Commandment!"
The Kiss
Manuel Villasante
Papa Villasante
"Upon each stair the clear impression of a naked human foot!"
"Ah Moy, shrieking, turned and fled!"
"Shoved a revolver right up in the teeth of the prosperous one!"
"Writes the dramatic criticisms for the moving-picture shows"
"Framed in the doorway stood one of the finest examples of the early
Gothic I have ever seen"
Professor Habib
An Uninvited Guest

The Statesmen Snowbound

I
THE FUNERAL
Toward the close of the --th Congress I was designated a member of a
committee on the part of the House to accompany the remains of the
late Senator Thurlow to their last resting-place at the old home in
Kentucky. And it might be well to state here that I am quite aware that
some of my ungrateful countrymen apply the spiteful term "junket" to a
journey of this description. When one considers the sacrifices we
Congressmen make in order to serve the nation, it is hard to believe that
unthinking persons begrudge us a little pleasure. In many cases we give
up all home life, business interests, and personal comfort, and take up
our abode in second-rate hotels and boarding-houses. We are
continually pestered and annoyed by office-seekers, book-agents,
cranks, and reporters; and, alas, we form habits that cling like barnacles,
try as hard as we may to shake them off. A taste of public life is fatal to
most men, and the desire to feed from the public crib goes right to the
bone. It is like a cancer, and it is removed only with grave danger to the
afflicted. Everything, therefore, which may lighten our burdens and
tend to relieve the situation should be the aim and study of our
constituents. But this may be digression.
The trip out was necessarily a quiet one, though a well-stocked buffet
kept the delegation from absolute depression. Leaving Washington
early in the afternoon we arrived at the little Kentucky town the next
morning about eleven o'clock, and found that we had yet some five
miles to go over bad roads to the homestead. We were met by two
nephews of the deceased, with a host of relatives and friends. The son,
Albert Thurlow, came on with us from Washington. There was ample
accommodation in the way of conveyances, and we proceeded slowly
up into the higher country. In something more than an hour the house
was reached--a big home-like structure, large enough for us all, and the
entertainment most lavish. The estate was an extensive one, and the
innumerable outbuildings and well-stocked barns gave evidence of
wealth and thrift. A long drive between rows of lofty poplars led to the

main entrance, and the view from the front of the house down to the
river was superb. There were servants in abundance, and nothing had
been overlooked to insure our comfort. The stables were the attraction
for most of our party, and several kings of the turf were brought out for
inspection. We were taken all over the place, and many things of
interest were shown us. A Bible and powder-horn, once the property of
Daniel Boone, books with the autograph of Henry Clay, duelling pistols,
quaint and almost priceless silver and china, and a rare collection of old
prints and family portraits. The walls in one room were fairly lined
with cups, the trophies of many a famous meet.
And such whiskey! There is nothing like it in Washington, or in the