Aunt Jane's Nieces at Work
Why, there
isn't a paper in the district that's supporting Forbes this year."
"You've a wrong idea of the campaign, Mr. Briggs," said Uncle John. "It
is because Mr. Forbes believes in newspaper advertising, and wants to
protect it, that he's against these signs. That's one reason, anyhow.
Can't you understand that every dollar spent for painting signs takes
that much away from your newspapers?"
"Why, perhaps there's something in that, Mr. Merrick. I'd never looked
at it that way before."
"Now, see here, Mr. Briggs. I'll make you a proposition. I'll give you
two hundred and fifty to support Mr. Forbes in this campaign, and if
he's elected I'll give you five hundred extra."
"Do you mean that, sir?" asked the editor, scarcely able to believe the
evidence of his ears.
"I do. Draw up a contract and I'll sign it. And here's a check for your
two-fifty in advance."
The editor drew up the agreement with a pen that trembled a little.
"And now," said Uncle John, "get busy and hustle for Kenneth Forbes."
"I will, sir," said Briggs, with unexpected energy. "I mean to win that
extra five hundred!"
CHAPTER VII
PATSY MAKES PROGRESS
Meantime Patsy was in the thick of the fray. The druggist was a
deep-dyed Democrat, and sniffed when she asked him what he thought of
Forbes for Representative.
"He's no politician at all--just an aristocrat," declared Latham, a
dapper little man with his hair slicked down to his ears and a waxed
moustache. "And he's got fool notions, too. If he stopped the
advertising signs I wouldn't sell half as many pain-killers and
liver-pills."
"He's my cousin," said Patsy, mendaciously; for although they called
themselves cousins there was no relationship even of marriage, as
Patsy's Aunt Jane had merely been betrothed to Kenneth's uncle when he
died.
"I'm sorry for that, miss," replied the druggist. "He's going to be
badly beaten."
"I think I'll take two ounces of this perfumery. It is really
delightful. Some druggists have so little taste in selecting such
things.
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There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
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