"Good afternoon, Mr. Grayson," said the Honourable Mr. Caldwell, taking
off his large hat and pausing with one foot on my step.
"Good afternoon, sir," I responded, "won't you come up?"
He sat down in the chair opposite me with a certain measured and
altogether impressive dignity. I cannot say that he was exactly
condescending in his manners, yet he made me feel that it was no small
honour to have so considerable a person sitting there on the porch with
me. At the same time he was outwardly not without a sort of patient
deference which was evidently calculated to put me at my ease. Oh, he
had all the arts of the schooled politician! He knew to the last
shading just the attitude that he as a great man, a leader in Congress,
a dominant force in his party, a possible candidate for Governor (and
yet always a seeker for the votes of the people!) must observe in
approaching a free farmer--like me--sitting at ease in his shirt-sleeves
on his own porch, taking a moment's rest after dinner. It was a perfect
thing to see!
He had evidently heard, what was not altogether true, that I was a
questioner of authority, a disturber of the political peace, and that
(concretely) I was opposing him for reelection.
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