Ingratitude merely injures those who are capable of it, although it sometimes produces sadness in great souls.  What were Mr. Crewe’s feelings when he read this drivel?  When he perused the extracts from the “Book of Arguments” which appeared (with astonishing unanimity, too!) in sixty odd weekly newspapers of the State—­an assortment of arguments for each county.

“Brush Bascom’s doin’ that work now,” said Mr. Tooting, contemptuously, “and he’s doin’ it with a shovel.  Look here!  He’s got the same squib in three towns within a dozen miles of each other, the one beginning ’Political conditions in this State are as clean as those of any State in the Union, and the United Northeastern Railroads is a corporation which is, fortunately, above calumny.  A summer resident who, to satisfy his lust for office, is rolling to defame—­’”

“Yes,” interrupted Mr. Crewe, “never mind reading any more of that rot.”

“It’s botched,” said Mr. Tooting, whose artistic soul was jarred.  “I’d have put that in Avalon County, and Weave, and Marshall.  I know men that take all three of those papers in Putnam.”

No need of balloonists to see what the enemy is about, when we have a Mr. Tooting.

“They’re stung!” he cried, as he ran rapidly through the bundle of papers—­Mr. Crewe having subscribed, with characteristic generosity, to the entire press of the State.  “Flint gave ’em out all this stuff about the railroad bein’ a sacred institution.  You’ve got ’em on the run right now, Mr. Crewe.  You’ll notice that, Democrats and Republicans, they’ve dropped everybody else, that they’ve all been sicked on to you.  They’re scared.”

“I came to that conclusion some time ago,” replied Mr. Crewe, who was sorting over his letters.

“And look there!” exclaimed Mr. Tooting, tearing out a paragraph, “there’s the best campaign material we’ve had yet.  Say, I’ll bet Flint taken that doddering idiot’s pass away for writing that.”

Mr. Crewe took the extract, and read:—­

“A summer resident of Leith, who is said to be a millionaire many times over, and who had a somewhat farcical career as a legislator last winter, has announced himself as a candidate for the Republican nomination on a platform attacking the Northeastern Railroads.  Mr. Humphrey Crewe declares that the Northeastern Railroads govern us.  What if they do?  Every sober-minded citizen, will agree that they give us a pretty good government.  More power to them.”

Mr. Crewe permitted himself to smile.

“They are playing into our hands, sure enough.  What?”

This is an example of the spirit in which the ridicule and abuse was met.

It was Senator Whitredge—­only, last autumn so pleased to meet Mr. Crewe at Mr. Flint’s—­who asked the hypocritical question, “Who is Humphrey Crewe?” A biography (in pamphlet form, illustrated,—­send your name and address) is being prepared by the invaluable Mr. Tooting, who only sleeps six hours these days.  We shall see it presently, when it emerges from that busy hive at Wedderburn.