The Gilded Age - Mark Twain [128]
“Yes, and Balloon has had a good deal of public experience. He is an old friend of mine. He was governor of one of the territories a while, and was very satisfactory.”
“Indeed he was. He was ex-officio Indian agent, too. Many a man would have taken the Indian appropriation and devoted the money to feeding and clothing the helpless savages, whose land had been taken from them by the white man in the interests of civilization; but Balloon knew their needs better. He built a government saw-mill on the reservation with the money, and the lumber sold for enormous prices— a relative of his did all the work free of charge—that is to say he charged nothing more than the lumber would bring.”
Laura’s Visit to the Book Store.
“But the poor Injuns—not that I care much for Injuns—what did he do for them?”
“Gave them the outside slabs to fence in the reservation with. Governor Balloon was nothing less than a father to the poor Indians. But Balloon is not alone, we have many truly noble statesmen in our country’s service like Balloon. The Senate is full of them. Don’t you think so Colonel?”
“Well, I dunno. I honor my country’s public servants as much as any one can. I meet them, Sir, every day, and the more I see of them the more I esteem them and the more grateful I am that our institutions give us the opportunity of securing their services. Few lands are so blest.”
“That is true, Colonel. To be sure you can buy now and then a Senator or a Representative; but they do not know it is wrong, and so they are not ashamed of it. They are gentle, and confiding and childlike, and in my opinion these are qualities that ennoble them far more than any amount of sinful sagacity could. I quite agree with you, Col. Sellers.”
“Well”—hesitated the Colonel—“I am afraid some of them do buy their seats—yes, I am afraid they do—but as Senator Dilworthy himself said to me, it is sinful,—it is very wrong—it is shameful; Heaven protect me from such a charge. That is what Dilworthy said. And yet when you come to look at it you cannot deny that we would have to go without the services of some of our ablest men, sir, if the country were opposed to—to—bribery. It is a harsh term. I do not like to use it.”
The Colonel interrupted himself at this point to meet an engagement with the Austrian minister, and took his leave with his usual courtly bow.
CHAPTER 36
“Bataïnadon nin-masinaiganan, kakina gaie onijishinon.”—“Missawa onijishining kakina o masinaiganan, kawin gwetch o-wabandansinan.”
BARAGA.
In due time Laura alighted at the book store, and began to look at the titles of the handsome array of books on the counter. A dapper clerk of perhaps nineteen or twenty years, with hair accurately parted and surprisingly slick, came bustling up and leaned over with a pretty smile and an affable—
“Can I—was there any particular book you wished to see?”
“Have you Taine’s England?”1
“Beg pardon?”
“Taine’s Notes on England.”
The young gentleman scratched the side of his nose with a cedar pencil2 which he took down from its bracket on the side of his head, and reflected a moment:
“Ah—I see,” [with a bright smile]—“Train, you mean—not Taine. George Francis Train.3 No, ma’m we—”
“I mean Taine—if I may take the liberty.”
The clerk reflected again—then:
“Taine. . . . Taine. . . . Is it hymns?”
“No, it isn’t hymns. It is a volume that is making a deal of talk just now, and is very widely known—except among parties who sell it.”
The clerk glanced at her face to see if a sarcasm might not lurk somewhere in that obscure speech, but the gentle simplicity of the beautiful eyes that met his, banished that suspicion. He went away and conferred with the proprietor. Both appeared to be nonplussed. They thought and talked, and talked and thought by turns. Then both came forward and the proprietor said:
“Is it an American book, ma’m?”
“No, it is an American reprint of an English translation.”
“Oh! Yes—yes—I remember, now. We are expecting it every day. It isn’t out yet.”
“I think you must be mistaken,