humble in our desires; we want no money; we labor solely, for our country

and require no reward but the luxury of an applauding conscience. Make

him one of those poor hard working unsalaried corporators and let him do

every body good with those millions--and go hungry himself! I will try

to exert a little influence in favor of the bill."

Arrived at home, Mr. Trollop sat down and thought it all over--something

after this fashion: it is about the shape it might have taken if he had

spoken it aloud.

"My reputation is getting a little damaged, and I meant to clear it up

brilliantly with an exposure of this bill at the supreme moment, and ride

back into Congress on the eclat of it; and if I had that bit of

manuscript, I would do it yet. It would be more money in my pocket in

the end, than my brother-in-law will get out of that incorporatorship,

fat as it is. But that sheet of paper is out of my reach--she will never

let that get out of her hands. And what a mountain it is! It blocks up

my road, completely. She was going to hand it to me, once. Why didn't

she! Must be a deep woman. Deep devil! That is what she is;

a beautiful devil--and perfectly fearless, too. The idea of her pinning

that paper on a man and standing him up in the rotunda looks absurd at a

first glance. But she would do it! She is capable of doing anything.

I went there hoping she would try to bribe me--good solid capital that

would be in the exposure. Well, my prayer was answered; she did try to

bribe me; and I made the best of a bad bargain and let her. I am

check-mated. I must contrive something fresh to get back to Congress on.

452

The Gilded Age