They were big,
quiet, expectant fellows, with less sophistication and
polemic than their American counterparts, less stolid
aggressiveness than their parallels in England, if they
have parallels there. They stood, indeed, for the
development between the two; they came of the new country
but not of the new light; they were democrats who had
never thrown off the monarch--what harm did he do there
overseas? They had the air of being prosperous, but not
prosperous enough for theories and doctrines. The Liberal
vote of South Fox had yet to be split by Socialism or
Labour. Life was a decent rough business that required
all their attention; there was time enough for sleep but
not much for speculation. They sat leaning forward with
their hats dropped between their knees, more with the
air of big schoolboys expecting an entertainment than
responsible electors come together to approve their
party's choice. They had the uncomplaining bucolic look,
but they wore it with a difference; the difference, by
this time, was enough to mark them of another nation.
Most of them had driven to the meeting; it was not an
adjournment from the public house. Nor did the air hold
any hint of beer. Where it had an alcoholic drift the
flavour was of whisky; but the stimulant of the occasion
had been tea or cider, and the room was full of patient
good will.
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