"
The Reform Association of South Fox had no more energetic
officer than Bingham, though as he sat on the edge of
the editorial table chewing portions of the margin of
that afternoon's Express, and drawling out maxims to the
Liberal candidate, you might not have thought so. He was
explaining that he had been in this business for years,
and had never had a job that gave him so much trouble.
"We'll win out," he said, "but the canvass isn't any
Christmas joy--not this time. There's Jim Whelan," he
told them. "We all know what Jim is--a Tory from way
back, where they make 'em so they last, and a soaker from
way back, too; one day on his job and two days sleepin'
off his whiskey. Now we don't need Jim Whelan's vote,
never did need it, but the boys have generally been able
to see that one of those two days was election day.
There's no necessity for Jim's putting in his paper--a
character like that--no necessity at all--he'd much better
be comfortable in bed. This time, I'm darned if the old
boozer hasn't sworn off! Tells the boys he's on to their
game, and there's no liquor in this town that's good
enough to get him to lose his vote--wouldn't get drunk
on champagne. He's held out for ten days already, and it
looks like Winter'd take his cross all right on Thursday."
"I guess I'd let him have it, Bingham," said Lorne
Murchison with a kind of tolerant deprecation, void of
offence, the only manner in which he knew how to convey
disapproval to the older man.
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