end of a hot political canvass. At the mass-meeting
Angelo tried to make his great temperance oration,
but was so discommoded—by hiccoughs and
thickness of tongue that he had to give it up; then
drowsiness overtook him and his head drooped against
Luigi’s and he went to sleep. Luigi apologized
for him, and was going on to improve his opportunity
with an appeal for a moderation of what he called
“the prevailing teetotal madness,” but
persons in the audience began to howl and throw things
at him, and then the meeting rose in wrath and chased
him home.
This episode was a crusher for Angelo in another way.
It destroyed his chances with Rowena. Those
chances had been growing, right along, for two months.
Rowena had partly confessed that she loved him, but
wanted time to consider. Now the tender dream
was ended, and she told him so the moment he was sober
enough to understand. She said she would never
marry a man who drank.
“But I don’t drink,” he pleaded.
“That is nothing to the point,” she said,
coldly, “you get drunk, and that is worse.”
[There was a long and sufficiently idiotic discussion
here, which ended as reported in a previous note.]
SO THEY HANGED LUIGI
Dawson’s Landing had a week of repose, after
the election, and it needed it, for the frantic and
variegated nightmare which had tormented it all through
the preceding week had left it limp, haggard, and exhausted
at the end. It got the week of repose because
Angelo had the legs, and was in too subdued a condition
to want to go out and mingle with an irritated community
that had come to disgust and detest him because there
was such a lack of harmony between his morals, which
were confessedly excellent, and his methods of illustrating
them, which were distinctly damnable. The new
city officers were sworn in on the following Monday—at
least all but Luigi. There was a complication
in his case. His election was conceded, but
he could not sit in the board of aldermen without his
brother, and his brother could not sit there because
he was not a member. There seemed to be no way
out of the difficulty but to carry the matter into
the courts, so this was resolved upon.
The case was set for the Monday fortnight. In
due course the time arrived. In the mean time
the city government had been at a standstill, because
with out Luigi there was a tie in the board of aldermen,
whereas with him the liquor interest—the
richest in the political field—would have
one majority. But the court decided that Angelo
could not sit in the board with him, either in public
or executive sessions, and at the same time forbade
the board to deny admission to Luigi, a fairly and
legally chosen alderman. The case was carried
up and up from court to court, yet still the same
old original decision was confirmed every time.
As a result, the city government not only stood still,
with its hands tied, but everything it was created
to protect and care for went a steady gait toward
rack and ruin. There was no way to levy a tax,
so the minor officials had to resign or starve; therefore
they resigned. There being no city money, the
enormous legal expenses on both sides had to be defrayed
by private subscription. But at last the people
came to their senses, and said:
