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LEGISLATIVE 
LUMINARIES 


LEGISLATIVE 
LUMINARIES 

BY 

HARRY  C.  SHAW 


1910 

The  Vermont  Printing  Company 
Brattle&oroi 


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TILDEN  FCL 


The  following  Sketches  appeared  m 
The  Brattleboro  Reformer 
during  the  session  of  the 
Vermont  Legislature 
in  IQIO-II 


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1919 


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CONTENTS 


11  PLAIN  JIM  KENNEDY    -  -      James  E.  Kennedy 

19  A  REAL  ROMEO  -  -  Romeo  A.  Norton 
27  AN  ESSEX  COUNTY  REGULAR        Harry  B.  Amey 

35  HIS  FATHER'S  SON  -  Russell  S.  Page 

43  A  MAN  WITH  A  HABIT  Allen  M.  Fletcher 

51  A  TALL  TIMBER  PRODUCT  Willard  J.  Boyce 

59  EDWARD  THE  QUIET  Edward  H.  Edgerton 

67  ENERGY  PERSONIFIED  -  Howard  E.  Shaw 

75  A  SINCERE  ADDISONIAN  -  -    John  W.  Pitridge 

83  A  SOMETIME  SPEAKER  -  Charles  A.  Plumley 

91  A  YANKEE  ARISTOCRAT  -  Henry  T.  Cutts 

99  A  GILT-EDGED  ONE  Franklin  G.  Butterfield 

107  A  MIGHTY  HUNTER  -  Marvin  J.  Howard 

115  ANOTHER  UNOSTENTATIOUS 

SENATOR  Lewis  M.  Seaver 

123  IVES  Morton  A.  Ives 

129  A  DEMOCRATIC  DEMOCRAT        -  Nial  Bemis 


"O,  wad  some  Power  the  giftie  gie  us 
To  see  oursel's  as  ithers  see  us; 
It  wad  f rae  mony  a  blunder  free  us. 
And  foolish  notion." — Burnt. 


THE   NEW  YORK 

PUBLIC  LIBRARY 


ASTOR,   LENOX 
TILDEN    FOUNDATIONS 


'He  came  1o   Vermont  from  New 
York  State  in  l8Q2. ' 


PLAIN  JIM  KENNEDY 

WILLISTON,  once  the  home  of 
bovine  tuberculosis  and  likewise 
the  abiding  place  of  Albert  L. 
Bingham,  the  dispenser  of  physic,  is  loyal 
to  the  boys  who  make  good.  When  a  Wil- 
liston  man  gets  the  high  sign  in  the  legis- 
lature and  his  speech  receives  mention  in 
the  Richford  Journal's  special  legislative 
letter  the  member  doesn't  faint  or  ask  for 
a  drink.  That  section  of  Chittenden 
county  is  radically  different  from  the  rest 
of  the  county.  One  never  hears  about 
Williston  men  making  spread  eagles  on 
the  floor  of  the  house.  They  do  a  bit  of 
quiet  work  in  committee  and  if  the  re- 
porters hear  about  it  it  is  through  some 
third  person.  The  purebred  Willistonite 
is  shy.  The  only  thing  that  will  arouse 
one  of  these  pink-blooded  citizens  is  an 
inquiry  whether  bovine  tuberculosis  has 
been  stamped  out.  You  will  find  an 


12  Plain  Jim  Kennedy 

answer  coming  and  even  that  youthful 
looking  slip  of  a  democrat,  James  E. 
Kennedy,  will  rise  up  to  his  full  height 
and  look  you  through  and  through,  and 
through  again. 

Get  acquainted  with  Mr.  Kennedy. 
Don't  call  him  Mr.  unless  you  meet  him 
in  the  rotunda  ladies'  week.  He  is  just 
plain  Jim,  the  plainest  kind  of  a  Jim  you 
ever  met.  You  can  borrow  money  in  mod- 
erate quantities  from  James  and  also  draw 
upon  him  for  advice  and  assistance  but 
you  can't  hand  him  any  moth-eaten  dope 
about  the  republican  halos  which  have 
been  worn  out  in  the  line  of  duty.  Not  a 
bit  of  it,  Jim  isn't  a  democrat  afflicted 
with  jimburkeitis  to  the  point  that  there 
isn't  a  serum  which  will  afford  him  re- 
lief. He  is  one  of  the  greatest  readers  in 
the  state  of  Vermont.  He  reads  the  entire 
list  of  the  Essex  syndicate  and  more.  He 
can  tell  you  what  is  being  done  for  the 
good  of  mankind  in  Bennington  and  Es- 
sex counties.  He  is  the  best  listener  in 
either  branch  of  the  assembly  this  session. 


Plain  Jim  Kennedy  13 

But  you  have  got  to  tell  a  story  with  a 
point  to  it  and  also  tell  it  in  a  way  that 
will  be  of  human  interest  else  James  won't 
wreathe  his  physiognomy  with  a  grin. 

A  good  story  may  be  used  to  illustrate 
a  point  if  you  are  endeavoring  to  convert 
Kennedy.  Don't  attempt  to  hand  him  any 
worn-out  Joe  Miller  for  he  will  spot  it 
and  do  it  quick.  James  was  once  employed 
by  the  Central  Vermont  railroad.  That 
was  before  the  C.  V.  paid  such  princely 
salaries.  From  1892  to  1900  he  was  the 
man  in  charge  of  the  station  at  Williston. 
Many  streaks  of  bad  luck  date  from  1900 
but  not  for  James  E.  Kennedy.  Jimmie 
has  been  coming  along  fast  since  he 
landed  in  Williston  in  1892  to  work  for 
the  C.  V.  railroad.  He  was  postmaster 
and  selectman  before  he  ambled  across 
the  line  into  the  white  light  in  1908.  James 
is  not  a  member  of  F.  E.  Burgess's  politi- 
cal cabinet.  He  is,  however,  good  with 
L.  M.  Hays.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  Hays  in 
1908  James  might  not  have  won  a  seat  in 
the  upper  branch  as  easily  as  he  did.  That 


14  Plain  Jim  Kennedy 

was  the  year  that  Williston  stood  best  with 
three  men  in  the  assembly.  Jim  was  one 
of  them  and  he  has  "come  back.71 

There  is  about  the  same  amount  of 
meat  on  Jim  Kennedy  as  there  is  on  the 
back  of  George  Stratton's  neck.  It  is  a 
pleasure  to  talk  with  Kennedy  about  a 
matter  in  which  he  is  interested.  He  will 
tell  you  100  of  the  strong  points  of  the 
proposition  and  consume  about  four 
minutes  of  your  time.  If  the  proposition 
doesn't  appeal  to  him  he  will  keep  mum 
and  let  you  do  the  talking.  He  can  look 
you  right  in  the  eye  and  act  as  though  he 
was  vitally  interested  in  what  you  are  say- 
ing and  at  the  same  time  he  will  be  won- 
dering if  you  are  about  ready  to  ring  off. 
Jimmy  is  a  cannie  one.  He  can  fool  the 
best  of  them.  He  is  one  of  the  bunch  this 
year  that  "Brun"  Stickney  can't  fool;  nor 
can  Charlie  Witters  hand  Jim  any  gauzy 
vocalizations  about  what  the  railroads  are 
doing  for  humanity — especially  between 
Cambridge  Junction  and  Essex  Junction. 

Kennedy  will  listen   to   the   railroad's 


Plain  Jim  Kennedy  15 

side  of  the  story  and  as  he  is  an  old  rail- 
roader he  will  know  how  much  of  the 
story  is  real  and  just  where  the  soft  pedal 
should  be  applied.  Kennedy  needn't  be 
distrusted  even  though  he  once  earned  his 
sustenance  by  working  for  the  Central 
Vermont.  Jim  Kennedy  would  make  a 
member  of  the  public  service  commission 
that  would  add  strength  to  that  organiza- 
tion. If  Governor  Mead  is  looking  for 
an  opportunity  to  name  a  worker  on  the 
commission  this  year  Jimmie  Kennedy  is 
the  man  to  take  measurement  of.  James 
is  a  democrat  and  it's  a  democrat  that  will 
get  the  high  sign  this  year  as  Eli  Porter 
is  expected  to  walk  the  plank.  And  if  Eli 
doesn't  receive  a  reappointment  Jim  Ken- 
nedy is  as  good  a  man  as  can  be  found  in 
Vermont  for  the  job. 

Kennedy  is  40  years  old  but  he  doesn't 
look  it.  His  clothes  are  of  the  quiet  sort. 
He  came  to  Vermont  from  York  state  in 
1892.  He  doesn't  possess  a  parchment 
done  in  Latin  but  he  is  in  possession  of 
sufficient  knowledge  of  everyday  matters 


16  Plain  Jim  Kennedy 

to  make  him  in  the  legislature  just  what 
he  is  in  his  home  town — a  valuable  asset. 


THE  NEW  YORK 

PUBLIC  LIBRARY 


ASTOR,   LENOX 

riLDEW    FOUNDATIONS 


Whether  he  wants  to  be  side  judge 
or  a  member  of  the  upper  house, 
he  saith  not.'' 


r    ~^O 

Tih 


A  REAL  ROMEO 

take  the  crumbs  that  fall  from 
the  political  table  and  grin  good 
naturedly  is  a  harder  stunt  than  it 
might  seem  to  the  uninitiated.  In  Chit- 
tenden  county  the  best  pieces  from  the 
pork  barrel  invariably  go  to  Burlington, 
and  the  Queen  City  also  insists  on  having 
the  top  layer  from  the  cream  pot.  As  Bur- 
lington gets  practically  everything  that  it 
wants  such  parts  of  the  county  as  St. 
George  and  Huntington  must  be  content 
with  what's  left.  While  the  ordinary 
Chittenden  county  aspirant  would  con- 
sider the  job  of  high  bailiff  mighty  small 
potatoes,  not  so  with  the  stalwart  son  of 
Huntington  who  for  nearly  15  summers 
and  as  many  winters  has  performed  the 
arduous  duties  of  that  office. 

Back  in  the  days  when  the  old  chieftain, 
Senator  Proctor,  was  the  man  with  his 
hand  on  the  helm,  this  Huntington  patriot 


20  A  Real  Romeo 

offered  his  services  to  his  county  and  for 
many  years  bore  the  distinction  of  having 
his  name  on  the  Proctor  mailing  list.  This 
list  was  used  in  sending  out  onion  and 
marigold  seeds  from  Washington,  and  its 
names  included  the  strong  men  of  those 
days.  Olin  Merrill,  Gov.  E.  C.  Smith, 
Frank  Partridge  and  Romeo  A.  Norton 
were  on  it.  Olin,  Ed,  and  Frank  did  not 
receive  a  package  of  turnip  seeds  along 
with  their  annual  letter  from  Senator 
Proctor.  That  is  where  Romeo  Ambitious 
Norton  was  one  to  the  best  on  the  rest  of 
the  bunch.  Romeo  did  not  attempt  to 
crowd  or  to  jostle  the  rest  of  the  mob.  See 
where  he  has  landed  after  14  years  of 
hard  labor.  Merrill,  Smith  and  Partridge 
have  been  counted  into  the  discard  and 
Romeo,  the  bright  star  of  the  sidehill  sec- 
tion of  Chittenden  county,  is  just  coming 
above  the  horizon. 

To  say  that  Romeo  had  partaken  only 
of  crumbs  would  hardly  be  fair  to  this 
son  of  Huntington.  Romeo  was  born  in 


A  Real  Romeo  21 

Huntington.  If  you  want  to  know  the  rea- 
son ask  him.  It's  no  secret.  For  16  years 
he  wore  the  big  nickle-plated  badge  of  a 
deputy  sheriff  of  Chittenden  county  and 
there  are  many  men  with  a  recollection  of 
Romeo's  administration.  Even  through 
all  those  strenuous  years  as  a  deputy  in 
the  squirrel  belt  Romeo  would  not  permit 
the  county's  welfare  to  be  put  ahead  of 
the  welfare  of  his  town.  He  has  found 
time  every  Sunday  for  a  good  many  years 
to  attend  the  First  Baptist  church.  He 
used  to  be  the  superintendent  of  the  Sun- 
day school  in  that  church  before  the  cares 
of  politics  hung  so  heavily  upon  him. 
Romeo  is  not  an  old  man  by  any  means. 
But  he  doesn't  stand  on  the  corner  (at 
Huntington  Centre)  and  shout  out  that 
he  is  53  years  old.  Romeo  keeps  his  coun- 
sel as  to  his  age  and  he  keeps  his  counsel 
as  to  his  ambitions  in  a  political  way. 

Years  ago  when  R.  A.  Norton  was  lay- 
ing the  foundation  for  his  career  as  a 
public  servant  he  formed  the  habit  of  re- 
fusing to  use  the  hammer  on  any  one.  Be- 


22  A  Reed  Romeo 

fore  the  wise  ones  knew  what  had  hap- 
pened Romie  had  secured  possession  of 
the  gavel  and  his  name  appeared  in  the 
annual  town  report  as  moderator.  The 
climb  was  not  without  stumbling  stones. 
He  has  been  a  selectman,  lister  and  a  few 
other  things.  For  20  years  Romie  has  had 
a  hankering  to  sit  in  the  halls  of  the  law- 
makers, and  in  September  he  started  out 
to  see  what  he  could  do  toward  breaking 
into  the  light.  It  took  Romeo  several 
hours  to  mold  sentiment  in  the  way  that 
it  had  to  be  shaped  if  he  was  to  be  the 
man  to  represent  Huntington  in  the  gen- 
eral assembly.  While  some  of  the  other 
fellows  went  out  and  indulged  in  talking 
it  over  Romeo  converted  a  few  more  of 
his  townsmen.  Five  attempts  with  the 
ballots  were  required  before  Romeo  Am- 
bitious Norton  had  reached  the  top  of  his 
dream  ladder. 

Some  day  when  Romeo  has  forgotten 
the  pains  and  penalties  of  being  a  maker 
of  laws  he  will  make  another  stab  for 
glory.  Whether  he  wants  to  be  side  judge 


A  Real  Romeo  23 

or  a  member  of  the  upper  house  he  saith 
not.  Romeo  is  not  one  of  those  canny 
gazabes  who  endeavor  to  harmonize  their 
gaze  and  the  landscape  into  a  picture  of 
wisdom.  He  knows  lots  of  things  and 
there  are  a  number  of  hundred  million 
things  he  does  not  know  and  he  knows 
that  he  doesn't  know  them.  Romeo  A. 
Norton  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  men 
that  you  would  run  across  in  a  tour  from 
Canaan  to  Pownal.  He  reads  considera- 
ble and  has  had  his  picture  in  the  papers 
before.  He  is  not  afflicted  with  stage 
fright.  If  it  should  become  necessary  to 
arrest  the  high  sheriff  of  Chittenden 
county  this  afternoon  a  message  to  Romeo 
in  his  seat  at  the  capitol  would  start  him 
toward  the  land  of  the  Southwicks, 
Burkes,  Van  Pattens,  Dorns,  Delaneys, 
and  Woodburys.  With  his  badge  of  high 
bailiff  pinned  upon  his  left  breast  he 
would  take  the  sheriff  into  custody.  That 
is  Romeo's  job.  He  is  also  representative 
from  Huntington.  He  has  a  telephone, 
and  the  rural  free  delivery  keeps  him  in 


24  A  Real  Romeo 

touch  with  the  outside  world.  While  he 
looks  as  though  he  was  of  the  same  politi- 
cal faith  as  Jim  Kennedy,  Romeo  A.  is  a 
thoroughbred  republican.  He  votes  the 
ticket  straight  and  the  welfare  of  the 
party  will  always  have  a  place  in  his  mind 
whether  he  holds  the  office  of  road  com- 
missioner in  Huntington  or  is  made  a 
colonel  on  Governor  Fletcher's  staff  in 
1912. 


~ 


THE   M'W 

PUBLIC  LIBRARY 


ASTOR,   LENOX 
TfLDLN    FOUNDATIONS 


(t 


He  plans  the  day' s  work  while 
dressing  for  breakfast.'' 


AN  ESSEX  COUNTY 
REGULAR 

FROM  the  land  where  the  screech- 
owl  causes  no  tremor  to  travel  along 
the  spines  of  the  natives  and  where  it 
is  quite  the  correct  thing  to  wear  a  skunk- 
skinlining  to  yourwaistcoat  there  occasion- 
ally comes  a  twinkler.  Once  in  two  years 
Essex  county  looks  over  the  inventory, 
selects  something  in  the  line  of  illumina- 
tion and  furnishes  him  with  the  credentials 
that  permit  him  to  sit  in  the  halls  of  the 
wise  men  at  Montpelier.  When  it  became 
known  that  Porter  H.  Dale  of  Island 
Pond  intended  to  visit  Montpelier  in  the 
guise  of  a  member  of  the  north  end  of  the 
general  assembly  there  were  a  lot  of  mis- 
guided individuals  in  Vermont  who  im- 
mediately began  to  wail  that  Essex  county 
had  reached  the  end  of  the  rope  and  that 
with  P.  Dale  the  tribe  of  wise  guys  be- 
came extinct. 


28  An  Essex  County  Regular 

There  isn't  any  doubt  about  the  brand 
of  wisdom  that  P.  Dale  is  inoculated 
with.  However,  this  story  deals  with  an- 
other brand — the  Harry  B.  Amey  brand. 
Essex  county  has  contributed  all  kinds  of 
wisdom  from  the  Gallup  brand  produced 
in  Victory  to  the  M.  D.  Scott  type  from 
Beecher  Falls.  The  Amey  brand  is  the 
kind  that  leaves  its  impress.  The  P.  Hun- 
gry Dale  brand  also  left  its  impress — 
upon  the  federal  treasury. 

Harry  B.  Amey  is  one  of  those  quiet  in- 
dividuals who  plan  the  day's  work  while 
dressing  for  breakfast.  He  doesn't  stick 
for  a  breakfast  jacket  and  his  waistcoats 
and  jewelry  are  not  sufficiently  noisy  to 
create  a  disturbance  in  church.  Harry 
lives  back  where  the  air  is  laden  with  the 
odor  of  balsam  and  where  the  all-over 
hat  doesn't  set  the  world  to  moving  back- 
wards. However,  Harry  B.  knows  a  whole 
lot  about  what  to  do  and  how  to  do  it 
when  he  finds  himself  on  Broadway.  Lob- 
sters with  their  husks  on  don't  phase 
Harry.  Harry  ate  them  with  and  without 


An  Essex  County  Regular  29 

years  ago  and  he  cut  his  eye  teeth  regard- 
ing the  better  known  labels  long  before 
he  left  college.  With  the  class  of  1894 
Harry  B.  Amey  went  away  from  Dart- 
mouth college  ready  to  do  things.  Many 
of  his  classmates  sallied  forth  and  stood 
where  the  calcium  casts  its  brightest  rays 
but  Harry  decided  that  there  was  a  chance 
to  make  a  living  and  a  clean  one  in  Essex 
county  even  though  the  rays  of  greatness 
that  one  might  radiate  would  not  rival  in 
brilliance  those  thrown  of!  by  some  of  the 
six-cylinder  specimens  whose  papas  were 
afflicted  with  overgrown  bank  accounts. 

Early  in  his  career  Harry  Amey  be- 
came stricken  with  an  attack  of  working 
for  a  living  and  it  begins  to  look  as  though 
he  would  continue  to  work  until  he  gets 
the  bell  for  the  final  curtain.  Harry  isn't 
handsome,  though  he  was  called  the  hand- 
somest baby  ever  born  at  the  time  of  the 
event.  One  might  easily  mistake  him  for 
a  humorist  from  his  facial  architecture, 
but  a  two-minute  conversation  with  the 
member  from  Brighton  will  convince  you 


30  An  Essex  County  Regular 

that  he  is  a  very  serious  individual.  He  is 
a  lawyer  and  as  lawyers  are  not  supposed 
to  talk  except  for  money  Mr.  Amey  need 
not  be  expected  to  become  over-voluble 
except  in  a  professional  way.  His  career 
as  a  public  servant  has  been  brief.  He  has 
held  the  job  of  state's  attorney  in  Essex 
county  for  a  few  terms,  but  that  doesn't 
overburden  a  man.  There  is  always  time 
for  the  state's  attorney  of  Essex  county  to 
eat  his  meals.  Folks  drink  "split"  in  Es- 
sex county  and  consequently  are  afflicted 
with  only  one  kind  of  intoxication — blind 
drunkenness.  A  few  of  the  citizens  run 
amuck  occasionally  and  aside  from  such 
slight  ripples  the  social  life  of  the  tall 
timber  county  is  seldom  disturbed. 

It  is  there  that  the  original  germ  of 
absentmindiphobia  breeds.  When  Harry 
B.  Amey  was  elected  by  the  freemen  ot 
Brighton  a  representative  to  the  general 
assembly  the  town  clerk  gave  him  a  cre- 
dential entitling  him  to  participate  in  the 
biennial  lawmaking  fiesta.  Harry  evi- 
dently thought  the  document  was  a  testi- 


An  Essex  County  Regular  31 

monial  of  esteem  or  some  sort  of  a  memo- 
rial and  hid  it  in  the  leg  of  an  old  boot  or 
in  the  refrigerator.  When  Amey  arrived 
in  Oniontown  to  find  that  he  was  minus 
his  title  to  the  rockpile  on  the  hill  he 
kicked  himself  and  wondered  what  the 
world  would  think  of  Brighton's  member. 
Generally  Mr.  Amey  isn't  absentminded. 

His  office  equipment  contains  all  of  the 
newfangled  labor-saving  devices,  includ- 
ing a  private  secretary  by  the  name  of 
J.  R.  Corbett.  Corbett  has  been  attached 
to  the  committee  on  revision  of  bills,  as 
a  secretary  or  companion  to  the  clerk, 
W.  A.  Dutton  of  Hardwick.  The  clerk  of 
the  committee  is  entitled  to  a  companion. 
Amey  was  sized  up  about  right  by  Speaker 
Howe  and  his  appointment  as  chairman 
of  the  committee  on  appropriations  means 
that  the  committee  will  have  to  be  shown 
before  Harry  and  his  associates  will 
approve  of  using  the  state's  money. 

While  Amey  is  of  the  present  genera- 
tion he  isn't  inclined  to  rend  things  into 
small  strips.  He  cannot  be  rung  in  on  the 


32  An  Essex  County  Regular 

insurgents'  firing  line.  Not  a  bit  of  it. 
H.  B.  Amey  is  regular.  Like  all  other 
Essex  county  politicians  he  plays  the 
game  strictly  according  to  Hoyle.  Harry 
never  attempts  any  fake  plays.  Some  day 
he  will  be  given  a  chance  to  step  against 
the  ration  table  of  the  federal  govern- 
ment. 


THE  NE'W  YORK 

PUBLIC  LIBRARY 


ASTOR.    LENOX 
TfLDEN    FOUNDATION- 


As  impervious  to  flattery  as  a  piece 
of  granite  is  to  water.' 


HIS  FATHER'S  SON 


I 


THERE  is  no  end  of  luminous  ones  in 
Lamoille  county.  Some  of  them  are 
the  kind  that  shine  in  the  dark  only, 
and  there  are  those  that  must  needs  have  a 
coat  of  lacquer  applied  regularly  lest  their 
brightness  become  dimmed.  One  natur- 
ally thinks  of  the  top-of-the-ladder  speci- 
mens when  talking  about  luminaries  and 
it  is  right  there  that  the  member  from 
Hyde  Park  is  prepared  to  greet  you.  His 
father  is  a  United  States  senator,  but  it 
doesn't  afflict  him  with  a  swollen  sweat 
band  in  his  headgear.  "Russ"  Page  is  rep- 
resenting the  town  of  Hyde  Park  in  the 
general  assembly  and  his  mind  is  on  his 
business.  He  is  as  impervious  to  flattery 
as  a  piece  of  granite  is  to  water.  There 
hasn't  been  a  man  in  the  legislature  of 
Vermont  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  that 
could  take  up  a  bill  and  consider  it  from 
the  cold-blooded  standpoint  that  "Russ" 
can. 


36  His  Father's  Son 

His  father  is  a  politician,  but  R.  S. 
Page  thinks  about  the  business  end  of  a 
proposition  first.  He  doesn't  care  any 
more  about  the  glory  that  attaches  to  the 
job  of  representing  the  town  of  Hyde 
Park  than  he  does  about  the  fact  that  he 
can  grade  calfskins  with  any  man  in  his 
father's  establishment.  If  there  is  one  man 
in  Vermont  sufficiently  primed  with  ini- 
tiative it  is  this  same  quiet  business  man 
from  the  Lamoille  valley.  You  would  im- 
agine to  look  at  him  that  he  wasn't  given 
to  smiling.  Wait  until  Yale  plays  Har- 
vard. Then  Mr.  Page  lays  business  cares 
aside  and  what  he  doesn't  do  in  the  noise 
line  isn't  worth  mentioning.  He  is  in- 
tense. Whether  it's  watching  a  football 
game  or  selling  a  man  a  carload  of  calf- 
skins, R.  S.  Page  is  always  strictly  on  his 
job.  You  can  tell  your  story  to  this  man  of 
business,  but  if  you  want  him  to  listen 
until  you  finish  just  leave  out  the  "says  I, 
says  he"  trimmings. 

Page  is  somewhat  of  a  lawyer.  He 
knows  more  about  the  law  of  business 


His  Father's  Son  37 

than  a  big  bunch  of  men  who  write  "at- 
torney-at-law"  after  their  name.  He  can 
draw  a  contract  that  will  hold  water  and 
also  hold  the  parties  making  it.  He  can 
look  over  a  flock  of  sheep  and  it  requires 
a  pretty  good  Yankee  to  beat  "Russ"  in 
the  transaction  of  buying  or  selling  the 
flock.  Page  is  a  born  trader.  He  doesn't 
play  with  the  commodities  dealt  in  by 
Wall  Street  merchants,  but  he  will  buy 
40  thousand  of  second-hand  bricks,  14 
carloads  of  sugar  barrels,  or  75  tons  of 
old  iron.  If  you  happen  to  have  all  of  this 
collateral  R.  S.  Page  will  buy  it  and  give 
you  his  check  then  and  there.  That's  his 
long  suit,  paying  cash  down  and  taking 
his  discount.  Did  you  ever  receive  a  let- 
ter from  his  father?  They  are  of  the  kind 
that  makes  you  think  life  is  to  be  always 
June  and  October.  Page,  the  young  man, 
writes  letters — tens  of  thousands  every 
year — but  every  sentence  carries  the  fact 
that  he  is  either  attempting  to  sell  you 
something  or  to  buy  something.  No  frills 
in  a  letter  from  R.  S.  P. 


38  His  Fathers  Son 

He  is  armed  with  a  college  education 
secured  at  the  University  of  Vermont, 
and  he  knocked  off  the  rough  edges  left 
after  graduation  by  a  trip  to  Europe. 
There  are  lots  of  things  that  R.  S.  Page 
does  not  know  and  there  are  also  scores 
of  things  that  he  does  know.  He  can  take 
the  afternoon  off  and  do  a  50-mile  spin  in 
his  auto,  but  he  manages  to  be  back  on  the 
job  to  sign  the  checks  for  a  few  thousand 
dollars  before  his  office  force  closes  up 
shop  for  the  day.  He  may  always  be  relied 
upon  to  know  the  amount  of  his  bank  bal- 
ance every  morning  before  he  does  any 
stunts  in  spending.  In  short,  Page,  the 
member  from  Hyde  Park,  is  a  thorough- 
bred business  man  and  as  a  member  of  the 
joint  committee  on  temperance  he  will  be 
able  to  look  at  the  liquor  question  from  an 
unbiased  viewpoint. 

Details  to  R.  S.  Page  mean  everything. 
He  has  been  brought  up  in  an  atmosphere 
reeking  with  details.  Cost  systems,  card 
indexes,  and  miles  of  letter  files  surround 
him  in  his  office  at  home.  He  has  been 


His  Fathers  Son  39 

educated  to  know  why  a  thing  is  done  be- 
fore it  is  done,  and  "Russ"  will  expect  to 
be  shown  why  a  measure  should  pass  be- 
fore he  will  do  anything  like  lifting. 
Some  people  may  imagine  that  being 
Senator  Page's  son,  R.  S.  Page  will  natur- 
ally take  instructions  from  his  "guvnor." 
Not  so.  Russell  S.  Page  relies  entirely 
upon  his  own  judgment.  If  there  is  one 
man  in  Vermont  that  Senator  Page  can- 
not apply  fine  Italian  hand  methods  upon 
with  success  it  is  his  son,  Russell.  The  sena- 
tor is  a  pretty  good  politician,  but  he  has 
got  to  show  his  offspring  where  the  latter 
is  to  get  off  before  the  said  offspring  turns 
any  cartwheels  in  favor  of  the  measure  or 
matter  advocated  by  the  pater.  They  are 
always  good  chums,  yet  the  boy  is  just  as 
cool-blooded  when  handing  out  a  business 
proposition  to  his  father  as  he  would  be 
to  anyone  else. 

He  was  born  in  Hyde  Park  and  while 
his  father  has  a  big  bank  roll  you  won't 
find  a  more  democratic  individual  than 
Page  Jr. 


THE   NEW  VORK 

PUBLIC  LIBRARY 


ASTOR,    LEf^OX 
TIL D  E  N    FG  L:  i :  D ,   T ;     |x! . 


None  wear  their  raiment  with  less 
noise  than  the  member  from 
Cavendish. ' 


A  MAN  WITH  A  HABIT 

r  |  O  come  back  and  do  it  to  the  satis- 
I  faction  of  the  neighbors  is  no  small 
task.  That  it  can  be  done  and  done 
again  and  again  is  proven  by  Windsor 
county  which  sends  up  to  the  general  as- 
sembly a  specimen  of  seasoned  legislative 
timber  session  after  session.  There  are  a 
lot  of  correctly  garbed  members  of  the 
lower  house  at  Montpelier  this  year  but 
none  that  wear  their  raiment  with  less 
noise  than  does  the  member  from  Caven- 
dish. It's  the  same  with  his  official 
duties.  This  presumed-to-be  candidate 
for  governor  while  keeping  one  of  his 
optics  on  the  main  chance  is  always  alive 
to  the  significance  of  the  legislation  being 
enacted  and  it  is  considered  a  task  to  get 
anything  past  the  Cavendish  man  unless 
it  bears  the  label  of  regularity.  While 
he  keeps  his  mind  on  the  fact  that  he 
would  like  to  be  the  next  governor  he  is 


44  A  Man  With  A  Habit 

alert  also  to  the  fact  that  he  is  the  repre- 
sentative of  one  particular  town. 

It  was  in  1902  that  Allen  M.  Fletcher 
blossomed  out  as  a  maker  of  laws.  It  was 
his  first  taste  and  it  tickled  him  to  the 
extent  that  he  has  been  coming  back 
ever  since.  In  1904  he  went  to  Montpel- 
ier  as  an  upper  house  man  from  Windsor 
county.  Then  he  got  the  habit  and  it  has 
stuck  to  him  as  though  he  was  made  of 
gum  tragacanth.  In  1906  he  was  pointed 
out  as  a  come-back  and  two  years  later  he 
was  tagged  as  a  veteran.  He  is  back  again 
this  year  and  following  the  same  tactics 
as  of  yore.  As  tactics  go  his  are  not  of  the 
sort  to  attract  attention.  However  that 
is  his  game.  He  is  not  given  to  making  a 
noise  but  he  does  desire  to  attract  atten- 
tion to  the  ambition  he  carries  concealed 
beneath  his  waistcoat.  While  other  men 
wear  their  hats  on  the  back  of  their  heads, 
carry  cigars  at  45-degree  angles  and  ex- 
pectorate on  the  marble  floor  of  the 
Heaphy  palace  at  Montpelier,  Mr.  Flet- 
cher stands  and  gazes  at  the  throng.  He 


A  Man  With  A  Habit  45 

wonders  how  man'y  of  them  can  be  relied 
upon  to  lift  good  and  plenty  when  the  roll 
of  the  state  convention  is  called  in  June 
1912. 

When  Fletcher  came  upon  the  scene  in 
1902  even  such  \vise  ones  as  "Curt"  Emery 
and  "Hod"  Bailey,  both  members  of  that 
memorable  session,  failed  to  notice  until 
it  was  over  that  another  star  had  been 
added  to  the  galaxy  of  republican  strong 
men.  Both  Bailey  and  Emery  took  to 
themselves  of  the  glory  of  that  session 
all  that  the  rules  and  the  statutes  allow, 
but  a  man  by  the  name  of  Fletcher  got 
honorable  mention  during  the  making  of 
the  famous  booze  law.  Up  to  that  year 
it  had  been  one  of  the  most  heinous  of 
offences  against  the  peace  and  dignity  of 
the  state  to  be  found  with  wine  in  one's 
possession.  Then  came  Clement,  the  in- 
surgent, and  proposed  to  allow  the  sale 
of  red  liquor  in  Vermont  by  statute  if 
the  people  of  any  particular  town  should 
so  vote.  "Joe"  Battell  and  "Hod"  Bailey 
went  after  Clement's  scalp  and  also  after 


46  A  Man  With  A  Habit 

the  scalp  of  any  member  who  dared  to  sus- 
tain the  contention  that  it  was  not  a  crime 
to  drink  a  glass  of  beer.  The  records 
show  that  Fletcher  was  inclined  to  give 
Vermonters  a  chance  to  drink  in  the  open, 
despite  the  opposition  of  his  colleagues. 
That's  what  a  birthplace  in  Indiana  will 
do  for  a  man.  Fletcher  was  born  in  In- 
dianapolis and  came  to  Cavendish  in  1881. 
If  you  should  look  up  his  autobiography 
in  the  Who  Will  Be  Who  of  Vermont 
you  will  find  Allen  M.  Fletcher  listed  as 
a  farmer.  He  does  own  one  of  the  best 
farms  to  be  found  in  Windsor  county,  but 
he  makes  more  money  from  the  increase 
in  value  of  railroad  stocks  than  he  does 
from  onions,  oats  or  alfalfa. 

He  likes,  however,  to  be  called  a  farm- 
er. A  farmer  governor  sounds  better  for 
Vermont  than  does  a  capitalist  governor. 
Fletcher  wants  to  be  governor  and  each 
two  years  he  adds  to  his  acquaintance  list 
by  attending  the  legislature.  He  may  not 
make  as  many  friends  per  annum  as  some 
of  the  higher-geared  individuals  but  he 


A  Man  With  A  Habit  47 

certainly  does  not  make  enemies.  Go 
where  you  will  in  Vermont  and  you  won't 
hear  a  man  speak  ill  of  Allen  M.  Fletcher. 
There  are  a  lot  of  big  heads  who  have  the 
temerity  to  prophesy  that  Fletcher  is  due 
to  find  himself  in  the  discard.  This  list  of 
egotists  does  not  include  Proctor,  Page, 
Mead,  Fleetwood,  Cheney,  et  al.  These 
individuals  know  what  the  frame-up  is 
and  if  they  don't  talk  about  it  they  are 
aware  of  the  fact  that  it's  up  to  Windsor 
county  two  years  hence. 

While  Fletcher  has  the  courage  of  his 
convictions  he  does  not  go  in  strong  to 
convert  his  colleagues  at  Montpelier  when 
the  colleagues  display  an  indication  not 
to  be  converted.  Fletcher  has  been  blessed 
with  the  best  luck  imaginable  in  escaping 
mistakes.  He  is  a  diplomat  for  one  thing. 
Though  he  does  not  intersperse  profanity 
through  his  conversation  in  a  committee 
meeting  he  nevertheless  speaks  with  suf- 
ficient emphasis  to  pull  many  a  measure 
through  a  tight  place.  He  is  always  inter- 
ested in  schemes  tending  to  conserve  the 


48  A  Man  With  A  Habit 

natural  resources  of  Vermont  and  if  one 
desires  to  make  good  with  Allen  M. 
Fletcher  it  can  be  done  about  as  easily  by 
talking  conservation  as  by  any  other 
means.  Fletcher  is  not  an  orator.  He  is  a 
better  listener  than  he  is  a  talker  but  when 
he  does  talk  he  does  not  intend  to  waste 
words. 

Since  1902  Mr.  Fletcher  has  visited 
many  parts  of  the  state  and  many  men 
have  come  to  know  this  well-groomed 
citizen  of  Windsor  county.  He  is  not  a 
poor  man  and  it  does  not  cramp  him  finan- 
cially to  operate  his  automobile.  He  isn't 
given  to  talking  politics  to  the  extent  that 
his  neighbors  are.  He  listens  to  what  his 
friends  say  but  the  siren's  entreaties  he 
passes  by.  He  declined  to  make  a  try  for 
the  speakership.  There  were  a  few  jealous 
schemers  who  would  have  gladly  laid 
Fletcher  on  the  shelf  had  he  butted  in. 
Mr.  Fletcher  knew  the  frame-up  regard- 
ing the  speakership  as  he  does  that  of  the 
governorship  in  1912. 


THE  NEW  YORK 

PUBLIC  LIBRARY 


ASTOR,   LENOX 
TTLDEN   FOUND>TTOKR 


He  knows  he  would  be  aiding  legis- 
lation if  he  could  embalm  about 
182  members. 


A  TALL-TIMBER  PRODUCT 

r  |  X3  be  born  up  in  Fayston  where  bob- 
I  cats  and  albino  deer  are  found  in 
their  native  state,  to  originate  in  the 
land  that  gave  to  the  world  John  Honest 
Senter,  is  by  no  means  a  handicap  except 
that  it  is  likely  to  set  a  man  back  a  few 
hundred  miles  who  may  aspire  to  enter 
the  social  whirl.  Forty-nine  years  ago  last 
November  there  was  born  up  in  the  tall 
timber  country  at  the  foothills  of  the 
range  a  boy.  His  parents  kept  him  there 
22  years  and  then  he  came  below  the 
clouds.  His  training  in  the  bush  had  made 
him  self-reliant  and  the  valley  needed  a 
self-reliant  young  man.  Waterbury  saw 
him  first  when  he  came  out  of  the  shrub- 
bery, and  he  staid  in  that  town  over  night. 
To  stay  in  Waterbury  over  night  is  to  get 
your  name  on  the  permanent  roll  and 
Willard  J.  Boyce  arrived  there  in  1883 
and  has  remained  there  since. 


52  A  Tall-Timber  Product 

While  he  carries  a  sombre  expression 
about  his  facial  architecture  he  can  smile 
when  occasion  requires  though  his  pro- 
fession does  not  call  for  anything  boister- 
ous in  the  smiling  line.  He  is  addicted  to 
the  undertaking  business,  and  it  is  to  be 
presumed  that  he  looks  longingly  at  some 
of  his  colleagues  in  the  lower  house  at 
Montpelier  and  wonders  if  he  will  ever 
get  an  opportunity  to  introduce  a  few 
quarts  of  Alcoform  fluid  into  their  sys- 
tems. Willard  J.  does  not  crave  the  oppor- 
tunity to  cater  to  the  wants  of  his  col- 
leagues in  a  professional  way  because  of 
the  money  there  is  in  it  for  him  but  from 
the  desire  to  do  the  state  of  Vermont  a 
favor.  Boyce  has  been  there  before  and 
he  knows  that  he  would  be  aiding  legisla- 
tion if  he  could  embalm  about  182  of  the 
members  of  the  house  of  representatives 
so  that  their  vocal  equipment  would  be 
incapacitated.  When  Mr.  Boyce  is  needed 
in  the  lawmaking  stunt,  call  his  name  and 
he  responds  with  the  same  alacrity  that 
he  displays  in  answering  a  telephone  call 


A  Tall-Timber  Product  53 

for  27  thousand  feet  of  birch  flooring  or 
for  a  $175  burial  case  for  one  of  his  neigh- 
bors with  a  healthy  bank  account.  He 
sells  lumber  as  well  as  coffins.  When  it 
comes  to  doing  the  Stafford-of-Brattleboro 
and  the  McCuen-of-Vergennes  act  Boyce 
fades  like  a  dissolving  view  in  an  illus- 
trated song.  He  is  a  good  talker  but  waits 
until  he  is  called  upon. 

Two  years  ago  this  Faystonian  product 
came  up  from  Waterbury  to  Oniontown 
and  he  made  good  and  this  year  comes 
back.  W.  J.  Boyce  is  also  a  product  of 
Montpelier  seminary  and  he  is  one  of  the 
graduates  of  that  institution  for  whom  no 
apologies  need  be  handed  out.  While 
there  are  182  talkers  in  the  house  this  ses- 
sion there  are  a  few  genuine  business  men 
and  Willard  J.  is  to  be  included  in  the 
bunch.  He  is  not  a  politician.  He  has  been 
president  of  his  adopted  village  and  that 
is  about  the  limit  of  his  public  service 
career  except  a  term  in  the  lower  strata  of 
lawmakers  in  1908. 

If  it  becomes  necessarv  to  send  out  a 


54  A  Tall-Timber  Product 

bunch  of  investigators  from  Montpelier 
to  get  first-hand  information  Boyce  is  con- 
sidered worth  while.  In  fact  when  it  is 
necessary  to  break  through  the  line  of 
talkers  and  impress  upon  the  intellect  of 
these  gentlemen  afflicted  with  noise  in  the 
throat  that  they  must  ring  off  Boyce  of 
Waterbury  is  just  the  kind  of  a  man  to  use. 
He  will  carefully  and  moderately  intro- 
duce some  entirely  foreign  subject  into 
the  conversation  and  the  regular  business 
will  again  be  taken  up.  To  look  at  Willard 
one  would  imagine  that  he  was  low-geared 
but  the  impression  would  be  entirely 
wrong.  Mr.  Boyce  is  a  quick  actor  and  a 
quicker  thinker.  He  has  lived  sufficiently 
near  to  Montpelier  for  the  last  27  years 
to  have  more  than  a  speaking  acquaint- 
ance with  the  men  who  have  been  coming 
to  the  legislature.  He  has  seen  strong  and 
weak  ones  come  to  the  capital  city  and  go 
away  forgotten.  He  has  learned  a  lot  of 
things  by  keeping  his  optics  open.  Though 
Boyce  doesn't  wear  a  silk  hat  except  when 
engaged  in  professional  duties  he  isn't  a 


A  Tall-Timber  Product  55 

tenderfoot.  Not  a  bit  of  it.  Willard  J.  has 
been  down  Montpelier's  pink  path  after 
Jim  Brock,  John  Senter  and  Fred  Laird 
have  been  in  bed  one  hour  and  10  minutes. 

He  has  eaten  at  the  Pavilion  under  the 
proprietorship  of  Mine  Host  Viles,  and 
Prince  Heaphy  can't  hand  Willard  any- 
thing that  will  resemble  a  surprise  pack- 
age. While  Boyce  of  Waterbury  is  a  quiet 
one  he  is  continually  thinking.  He  goes 
home  to  sleep  and  thereby  is  able  to  get 
enough  out  of  his  legislative  salary  to 
break  even. 

If  one  wishes  to  impress  a  story  upon 
Mr.  Boyce's  mind  one  should  stand  on 
Willard's  left  foot  while  telling  it.  Pathos 
won't  get  a  rise  out  of  Willard  J.  Nothing 
doing  in  the  tear  line.  Willard  will  listen 
to  your  tale  of  woe  but  you  need  not  put 
over  any  tearful  dope.  Burying  dead  men 
naturally  hardens  one's  tender  spots  and 
while  Mr.  Boyce  is  one  of  the  most  com- 
panionable of  men  he  is  not  susceptible  to 
any  baby-doll  stunt  by  Aunt  Annette 
Parmalee.  If  you  want  to  make  Boyce 


56  A  Tall-Timber  Product 

laugh  talk  to  him  about  Hapgood,  the 
Peruvian.  Both  come  from  the  tall-timber 
country  but  Boyce  is  a  product  of  the 
shadows  of  Camel's  Hump.  Boyce  enjoys 
the  legislative  game  and  when  it  comes 
around  time  for  Waterbury  to  make  a  bid 
for  an  upper  house  position  he  will  be  on 
hand.  Of  course  there  will  be  others  but 
wise  ones  say  that  Willard  will  follow  in 
the  tracks  of  Eber  Huntley,  the  strong 
man  of  Duxbury.  Eber  and  Willard  are 
modeled  largely  upon  the  same  lines.  Eber 
has  a  facial  resemblance  to  Pilate  and 
Boyce  carries  a  Simon  Legree  counte- 
nance. Both  are  business  men. 


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DCU  FC-r;r:D/Ti'   N 


'He  isnt  obsessed  with  the  idea 
that  he's  an  orator.' 


EDWARD  THE  QUIET 

WHILE  no  one  was  looking  Edward 
the  Quiet  slipped  into  the  house  of 
lawmakers  in  1906  and  though  he 
made  no  outcry  nor  indulged  in  motions 
of  the  mouth  he  made  good  with  his  con- 
stituents. There  are  a  lot  of  Windsor 
county  windjammers  who  endeavored  to 
put  Edward  on  the  shelf  when  he  reap- 
peared in  1908  but  Edward  comes  from 
the  town  of  Warren  where  the  game  does 
not  include  giving  up  easily.  He  had  rep- 
resented the  town  of  Rochester  once  and 
had  an  idea  that  he  could  do  it  better  a 
second  trip.  He  did  the  trick  to  the  satis- 
faction of  all  concerned  and  those  with  a 
political  itching  told  themselves  that  Ed- 
ward had  stopped  and  the  rest  of  the 
aspiring  ones  need  not  have  any  further 
concern.  It  was  just  at  that  point  that 
Edward  confused  the  bunch  a  bit.  He  had 
had  an  opportunity  to  study  lawmaking 


60  Edward  the  Quiet 

at  close  range  with  two  terms  in  the  lower 
level  and  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  would 
like  to  sit  in  the  upper  branch.  Without 
making  any  false  motions  Edward  H. 
Edgerton  went  after  the  job  and  stopped 
it  and  he  did  it  in  a  way  to  make  some  of 
the  older  campaigners  take  notice  of  the 
way  the  trick  was  done. 

Edward  the  Quiet  does  less  talking  than 
any  other  individual  in  the  legislature. 
He  is  a  good  listener  though  his  hearing  is 
a  bit  impaired.  Edgerton  never  smiles  un- 
less the  story  is  a  brand  new  one.  He  isn't 
obsessed  with  the  idea  that  he  is  an  orator 
nor  is  he  one  of  those  self-satisfied  speci- 
mens that  hand  you  a  keep-your-eye-on- 
me-if-you-want- to-get-it-straight-look. 

When  he  speaks  he  does  so  in  terms  that 
can  be  understood  and  makes  no  attempt  to 
pronounce  judgment  upon  every  measure 
that  does  not  meet  with  his  approval.  Ed- 
ward cannot  be  swept  from  his  foundation 
with  a  flowery-worded  letter,  and  the 
manipulator  of  language  might  as  well 
move  along  two  notches  and  give  up  the 


Edward  the  Quiet  61 

job  of  talking  this  Windsor  county  sphinx 
into  a  trance. 

The  silent  one  has  seen  47  summers  and 
one  less  that  number  of  winters  and  isn't 
easily  fooled.  He  was  born  in  the  land  of 
the  sky  line  up  in  Warren,  the  town  that 
Joe  Battell  sees  fit  to  call  the  "loveliest 
village  in  the  dale."  Up  where  the  clouds 
first  touch  the  earth  Edward  H.  Edgerton 
was  born.  Twenty  years  ago,  fresh  from 
Barre  academy  with  laurels  displayed  all 
over  his  person,  the  silent  one  located  in 
Rochester  and  began  his  profession  of  a 
lawyer.  He  is  somewhat  of  a  poobah  as 
he  is  given  to  holding  several  offices  at  the 
same  time.  Once  he  got  away  with  the  job 
of  town  clerk,  first  selectman,  town  agent, 
and  town  representative.  That,  however, 
is  comparatively  an  easy  task  for  Edward 
the  Quiet.  He  doesn't  talk  when  attend- 
ing to  his  official  duties  and  consequently 
it  doesn't  require  over-exertion  for  Ed- 
ward to  issue  a  license  to  a  brindle-pup, 
adjust  a  claim  against  the  town  or  vote 


62  Edward  the  Quiet 

when  necessary  in  the  upper  branch  of  the 
assembly. 

As  Edward  stands  beside  the  radiator 
in  the  Pavilion  office  and  hears  a  bunch 
of  false  alarms  explain  how  Roosevelt 
really  triumphed  the  man  from  Rochester 
wonders  why  such  specimens  were  omit- 
ted from  the  list  of  animals  on  which  the 
state  will  pay  a  bounty.  Edgerton  is  one 
of  the  members  of  the  general  assembly 
who  go  to  Montpelier  to  serve  both  town 
and  state.  He  may  fail  to  deliver  all  of 
the  goods  that  he  is  expected  to  but  he 
is  strictly  on  his  job,  and  the  fuss  and 
feathers  of  ladies'  week  and  a  few  other 
such  functions  do  not  ruffle  the  quiet  gen- 
tleman who  has  come  to  Montpelier  for 
three  consecutive  terms.  Edward  was  not 
known  outside  of  his  town  until  he  went 
to  the  capital  city  in  1906.  The  newspaper 
men  passed  the  Windsor  sphinx  by  as  not 
conducive  to  news  making  and  it  galled 
him  not.  There  is  less  of  the  grandstand 
player  in  Edgerton  of  Rochester  than 
there  is  in  J.  Gilbert  Stafford  of  Brattle- 


Edward  the  Quiet  63 

boro.  Both  are  earnest  and  conscientious 
but  Edgerton  has  seen  the  desk-slamming 
treatment  handed  to  several  over-voluble 
members  and  he  wouldn't  take  the  chances 
that  J.  Gilbert  indulges  in. 

Edward  the  Quiet  looks  you  straight  in 
the  optic  and  there  is  no  flutter  of  his 
nerves  as  he  asks  or  answers  a  question. 
There  is  absolutely  nothing  in  his  make- 
up that  may  be  called  oratory  but  there  are 
bunches  of  good,  hard  common  sense 
sticking  out  all  over  his  frame.  That's  why 
Edgerton  is  in  the  senate.  Some  day  he 
will  be  called  upon  to  do  even  bigger  and 
more  remunerative  stunts  than  those  of 
representing  his  town  and  county  in  the 
lawmaking  body.  Although  labelled  a  re- 
publican he  has  a  sufficient  amount  of 
insurgency  in  his  clothes  to  make  him  a 
a  sort  of  leaven  in  the  bunch  of  regulars 
who  talk  themselves  hoarse  about  their 
regularity.  Edgerton  isn't  one  of  those  in- 
dividuals that  attend  every  gathering  of 
men  from  the  general  synod  of  Fat  Heads 


64  Edward  the  Quiet 

to  the  Triennial  Conclave  of  Ambitious 
Geezers. 

It's  safe  to  say  that  Edward  the  Noise- 
less is  known  to  less  men  than  any  other 
individual  in  Vermont  with  three  legisla- 
tive terms  to  his  credit.  Getting  acquainted 
with  the  proletariat  hasn't  been  his  long 
suit.  He  gets  acquainted  with  those  worth 
while  and  he  can  tell  who  is  worth  the 
trouble.  Not  a  bit  spectacular,  yet  strictly 
on  his  job,  Edward  H.  Edgerton  is  doing 
more  than  his  part  to  expedite  the  public 
business. 


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He  got  the  habit  of  working  when 
he  was  a  boy." 


ENERGY  PERSONIFIED 

ENERGY  in  the  original  package, 
with  a  six-cylinder  development 
attachment,  is  a  part  of  the  equip- 
ment of  a  democratic  member  of  the 
lower  branch  of  the  general  assembly. 
The  butter-tub  country  has  turned  out 
a  lot  of  boys  that  could  put  over  things 
on  the  ones  with  a  lustre,  but  never  a 
one  has  it  produced  that  had  anything 
on  H.  Energetic  Shaw,  the  member  from 
Stowe.  H.  Energetic  is  one  of  the  bunch 
at  Montpelier  this  session  who  dare  to 
do  things.  For  instance,  he  had  the  nerve 
to  nominate  for  the  United  States  senate 
a  republican.  Perhaps  this  bit  of  compli- 
ment may  be  remembered  by  H.  Energy's 
friend,  the  Hyde  Park  senator,  when  it 
comes  to  turning  tricks  after  the  demo- 
crats have  drawn  the  curtain  on  the  end 
of  the  act  for  the  republicans.  If  it  comes 
to  dividing  up  plums  among  the  hungry 


68  Energy  Personified 

even  a  republican  senator  might  say  a 
good  word  for  a  democratic  friend.  At 
any  rate  Howard  E.  Shaw  of  Stowe  is 
worthy  the  attention  of  those  who  deal  out 
plums.  He  has  done  what  a  few  thousand 
other  Vermonters  have  failed  to  do.  He 
has  made  good  and  it  is  only  a  matter  of 
a  few  years  more  when  he  can  take  a  trip 
to  Europe  with  his  family.  He  is  making 
money. 

Howard  Energetic  Shaw  was  born 
in  Stowe  and  the  education  its  schools 
afforded  him  was  all  that  he  craved.  He 
got  the  habit  of  working  when  a  boy  and 
at  20  was  learning  the  rudiments  of  mer- 
cantile business.  In  the  reign  of  Urban 
Woodbury  as  king  of  Vermont,  H.  Ener- 
getic started  out  in  business  for  himself, 
and  while  he  dispensed  soap,  sugar,  dried 
apples  and  nails,  he  longed  to  branch  out, 
and  accordingly  took  up  the  sale  of  lum- 
ber. Howard  lives  in  the  tall  timber  belt 
and  as  he  can  tell  the  number  of  thousand 
feet  of  lumber  in  the  butt  of  a  pine  by 
tasting  the  pitch  he  has  proved  a  success 


Energy  Personified  69 

in  selling  lumber.  Then  he  makes  and  sells 
butter  boxes.  Besides  the  butter  box 
factory  this  energetic  individual  has  a 
couple  of  sawmills,  a  grist  mill  and  three 
or  four  warehouses  in  his  own  town  and 
in  Tom  Cheney's  Village-on-the-Lamoille. 
He  hasn't  dipped  into  politics  very  strong 
as  his  political  faith  isn't  of  the  sort  that 
gets  a  heavy  drag  in  Stowe.  However, 
Howard  E.  is  the  kind  of  a  man  who  can 
win  against  combinations.  He  is  the  frank- 
est sort  of  a  fellow  and  one  doesn't  have  to 
discount  what  he  says.  He  has  been  a 
school  director  and  town  auditor,  and  this 
year  as  representative  to  the  gathering  of 
wise  ones  at  Montpelier  Howard  Ener- 
getic Shaw  is  getting  a  bit  of  insight  into 
the  way  laws  are  not  made. 

Shaw  is  one  of  the  boosterites  of  the 
snow  belt.  He  deals  exclusively  in  Ver- 
mont products  outside  of  his  regular  line 
of  merchandise.  He  is  one  of  the  men  in 
Vermont  whom  the  potato  merchants  in 
the  cities  know.  They  know  that  this  ener- 
getic Vermont  merchant  can  ship  them 


70  Energy  Personified 

a  carload  of  tubers  as  quickly  as  the  goods 
can  be  loaded.  That's  a  specialty  of 
Howard  E.  Shaw — potatoes.  Then  he 
sells  maple  sugar.  If  you  should  want  to 
buy  a  ton  or  100  tons  of  maple  sugar  this 
very  minute  Howard  E.  Shaw  is  the  man 
who  can  fill  your  order  just  as  fast  as  it 
can  be  packed.  He  deals  in  maple  prod- 
ucts and  what  he  doesn't  know  about  sugar 
isn't  of  great  value.  You  can't  palm  any 
paraffine  glucose  trick  off  on  H.  Energetic 
Not  a  bit  of  it. 

Shaw  has  been  going  to  Montpelier 
periodically  for  the  past  30  years  and  he 
has  a  speaking  acquaintance  with  a  big 
bunch  of  fellows  who  have  sat  in  the  halls 
of  the  mighty  in  years  past.  Also  he  knows 
who  many  of  the  wise  men  will  be  of  the 
future.  Howard  belongs  to  the  fish  and 
game  league  of  Vermont.  It  would  be  con- 
sidered poor  form  for  a  Stowe  man  not 
to  be  a  member  of  that  organization.  Then 
Shaw  has  been  decorated  with  degrees  in 
other  exalted  orders.  He  lives  in  a  small 
town  back  among  the  hills  but  he  can  get 


Energy  Personified  71 

down  to  brass  tacks  when  it  comes  to  dis- 
cussing ways  and  means. 

Howard  E.  Shaw  is  43  years  old  and 
one  of  the  citizens  that  Stowe  has  every 
reason  to  be  proud  of.  He  married  a  Stowe 
girl  and  they  have  a  14-year-old  son  and 
a  12-year-old  daughter.  Shaw  and  his 
family  are  Vermont  products  that  give  to 
the  state  a  standing  whenever  exhibited. 
He  will  probably  always  live  in  Stowe  for 
he  has  a  cozy  home  and  is  making  money. 


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ft 


He  can  reduce  the  English  language 
to  its  least  common  denominator." 


A  SINCERE  ADDISONIAN 

WHILE  the  majority  of  wise  men 
who  go  to  Montpelier  biennially 
to  build  the  laws  are  entered  on  the 
rolls  as  farmers  many  of  them  get  by  for 
no  other  reason  than  that  they  live  in  a 
farmhouse.  There  is,  however,  at  least  one 
farmer  of  the  legislature  of  1910  who 
knows  what  it  is  to  earn  his  living  by  farm- 
ing. There  may  be  a  number  of  other 
solons  who  understand  the  art  of  wresting 
a  sustenance  from  the  soil  but  they  have 
nothing  on  one  quiet  member  from  Addi- 
son  county  when  it  comes  to  marketing 
a  product  that  brings  good  returns- 
namely,  Morgan  horses.  There  may  be  a 
lot  of  horse  breeders  in  the  general  assem- 
bly of  1910  but  John  W.  Pitridge  of 
Leicester  is  one  of  the  bouquet  of  horse 
breeders  who  produce  that  style  of  ani- 
mals known  as  "some  class." 


76  A  Sincere  Addisonian 

A  few  years  ago  John  got  to  thinking 
about  the  glory  that  comes  to  a  man  who 
goes  to  Oniontown  as  a  maker  of  laws,  and 
after  considerable  reflection  he  decided 
that  he  would  make  a  try.  He  tried  the 
trick  in  1908  and  made  Carl  Williams 
step  about  as  fast  as  the  Addison  county 
speed  laws  permit.  In  fact  the  last  quarter 
was  one  of  the  fastest  ever  shown  in 
Leicester  and  John  W.  nearly  nosed  in. 
When  the  time  came  this  year  to  score  up, 
a  bunch  of  aspirants  for  lower  house  togas 
faded  and  let  John  have  things  easy. 

While  Pitridge  is  a  horse  breeder  he 
never  talks  shop  unless  it  is  to  a  man  who 
will  understand  him.  While  he  is  a  farmer 
he  is  one  of  that  class  that  keep  track  of 
income  and  outgo.  He  makes  no  pretense 
at  being  a  scientific  farmer,  but  he  is  one 
of  the  soil  tillers  of  the  legislature  who 
can  give  a  lot  of  semi-scientific  individ- 
uals a  job  lot  of  information  that  will  help 
them  not  only  in  making  laws  but  in 
making  a  farm  pay. 

He  can  write  a  lucid  letter  and  his  pen- 


A  Sincere  Addisonian  77 

manship  is  almost  faultless.  He  looks,  in 
his  picture,  like  a  professional  man,  but 
when  you  meet  him  you  will  imagine  that 
he  is  the  inner  kernel  of  the  hardest 
Yankee  nut  you  ever  attempted  to  crack. 
He  doesn't  look  it  but  he  is  a  humorist. 
He  can  tell  stories  that  are  listened  to.  He 
didn't  draw  a  committee  chairmanship 
and  it's  a  safe  guess  that  he  didn't  want 
one.  Yet  when  it  comes  to  putting  a  digit 
through  the  boutonniere  aperture  of  one's 
frock  and  arresting  one's  train  of  thought 
John  W.  Pitridge  asks  no  discount  from 
the  rest  of  the  bunch.  He  wouldn't  ac- 
knowledge that  he  is  a  diplomat,  but  he  is 
that,  and  one  of  the  kind  that  can  get  a 
hearing  every  time. 

One  invariably  conjures  up  pictures  of 
being  lost  in  the  wilds  when  one  hears  the 
name  of  Leicester  Junction  mentioned 
and  shudders  as  the  conductor  announces 
the  station.  Sometimes  the  town  has  sent 
to  Montpelier  men  who  were  typical  of 
the  reputation  that  the  town  has  attained 
as  a  junction,  but  this  year  John  W.  Pit- 


78  A  Sincere  Addisonian 

ridge  is  the  "gentleman  from  Leicester,'1 
and  though  he  is  a  bit  on  the  buckwheat 
type  he  is  just  the  kind  of  a  man  that  is 
needed  to  leaven  the  bunch.  If  there  could 
be  125  more  just  like  John  the  serial  story 
of  amputating  a  hedgehog's  ear  which 
occupied  the  attention  of  the  house  for 
several  days  earlier  in  the  session  would 
have  been  reduced  to  an  anecdote,  and  a 
mighty  short  one  at  that. 

Mr.  Pitridge  is  68  years  old,  but  you 
would  never  suspect  him  of  standing  off 
the  inevitable  all  that  number  of  years. 
He  was  born  in  Governor  Ormsbee's  town 
which  may  account  for  his  youthful 
appearance.  Educated  in  the  Brandon 
schools  and  hardly  attaining  his  majority, 
John  enlisted  and  went  into  service  in 
Company  H  of  the  old  Fifth  of  Vermont. 
After  John  gets  through  talking  with  a 
fellow-member  the  man  cannot  but  get 
the  impression  of  sincerity  that  goes  with 
the  talk  from  Pitridge. 

John  W.  Pitridge  doesn't  use  in  his 
vocabulary  the  term  "quitter."  There  may 


A  Sincere  Addisonian  79 

be  quitters  in  Leicester  but  they  are  not 
members  of  the  Pitridge  family.  John  W. 
wanted  to  go  to  the  legislature  and  he 
went.  About  the  time  that  the  Addi- 
sonsque  method  of  passing  things  around 
labels  Leicester  as  entitled  to  an  upper 
berth  you  will  find  John  W.'s  name  and 
fame  being  mentioned.  If  he  goes  after 
it  he  will  get  it. 

While  Mr.  Pitridge's  larynx  hasn't 
been  overworked  thus  far  during  the  ses- 
sion he  manages  to  be  on  hand  when  it  is 
necessary  to  vote  and  he  doesn't  wait  for 
a  nod  from  some  highbrow  before  putting 
in  his  "aye"  or  "nay.':  He  makes  no  at- 
tempt at  a  speech  but  he  dares  to  tell  what 
he  thinks  about  a  measure  and  he  can  re- 
duce the  English  language  to  its  least 
common  denominator  in  so  doing.  If  the 
house  wants  some  information  on  Morgan 
horses  in  addition  to  what  Colonel  Bat- 
tell  can  hand  out  let  it  call  upon  John  W. 
The  colonel  raises  horses  for  fun  and  John 
raises  them  for  money- -good  money.  Both 
raise  good  horses  and  John  gets  good 
prices.  The  colonel  gets  a  reputation. 


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'  With  him  politics  and  official 
position  are  side  lines,7 


A  SOMETIME  SPEAKER 

BLUE  sky  always  is  the  theme  with 
the  man  who  presides  at  the  desk 
down  in  front  of  Speaker  Howe. 
Sunshine  and  optimism  constitute  the 
major  part  of  the  working  equipment  of 
this  individual  with  a  humorist's  face. 
Even  though  he  has  read  the  roll  of  the 
house  a  half  dozen  times  in  response  to  a 
demand  for  the  yeas  and  nays  and  the 
gloom  of  a  late  December  afternoon  has 
set  the  nerves  of  the  rest  of  the  bunch  on 
edge  Charles  A.  Plumley  appears  un- 
ruffled. He  will  go  to  the  task  the  seventh 
time  with  the  same  alacrity  that  he  dis- 
played in  the  morning.  If  Charlie  Plumley 
ever  wore  a  frown  it  must  have  been  when 
no  one  was  looking  for  you  can't  find  a 
man  who  recollects  ever  seeing  such  an 
ornamentation  on  Plumley's  countenance. 
What  Plumley  may  think  about  Tom, 
Dick  and  Harry  who  are  trying  to  do 


84  A  Sometime  Speaker 

spread  eagles  in  the  way  of  oratory  he 
never  discloses.  Yet  he  is  by  no  means  a 
sphinx  and  many  a  member  gets  a  lift  over 
some  puzzling  proposition  from  Charles 
and  no  one  is  the  wiser.  While  the  clerk 
of  an  organization  is  supposed  to  simply 
do  a  little  writing  and  keep  the  records, 
the  job  of  being  the  clerk  of  the  house  of 
representatives  of  the  Vermont  legislature 
requires  more  than  a  smile  and  an  electric 
call  button. 

Plumley  has  help  when  he  needs  it  but 
he  goes  in  for  doing  his  share  of  work  and 
there  are  several  tasks  that  he  does  not 
delegate  to  others.  An  experienced  clerk 
reduces  the  work  of  the  speaker  to  a  per- 
ceptible degree.  It  is  one  of  Charlie's 
strong  points  to  advance  the  business  of 
the  house  as  fast  as  he  can,  and  many  a 
committee  chairman  gets  a  bundle  of  bills 
handed  him  several  hours  in  advance  of 
the  time  he  expected  them,  because 
Plumley  knows  the  game  of  keeping 
things  moving. 

Visitors    are    always    welcome    in    the 


A  Sometime  Speaker  85 

clerk's  office  after  sessions  of  the  house 
but  they  will  get  the  impression  that  if 
they  have  any  business  to  transact  they 
ought  to  be  quick  about  it.  With  two 
or  three  typewriters  clicking  and  Clerk 
Plumley  doing  the  glad-to-see-you  act  at 
the  same  time  he  is  attending  to  some  task 
impresses  the  visitor  strongly  with  the  in- 
clination that  it  is  time  to  move  along. 
Plumley  has  been  coming  up  from  the 
Dog  River  valley  as  one  of  the  house 
officials  since  1900,  and  during  that  time 
he  has  learned  who  is  who  in  the  game  of 
playing  to  the  grandstand.  When  a  grand- 
stand member  starts  in  to  do  things  on  the 
floor  Charlie  gets  busy  with  the  stuff  on 
his  desk.  He  can  work  and  listen  and 
while  he  listens  he  knows  just  what  he 
will  do  before  the  house  meets  again. 
Charlie  knows  the  majority  of  the  men  in 
the  house  about  the  third  day  of  the  ses- 
sion, and  it  is  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world 
to  acquaint  some  friend  with  the  annoy- 
ance of  grand-stand  players.  There  are 
no  end  of  tricks  that  the  clerk  knows. 


86  A.  Sometime  Speaker 

Like  his  father  in  congress,  Charlie  is  a 
lawyer.  He  is  in  business  with  his  father. 
His  father  is  an  orator  but  Charlie  does 
not  get  by  on  that  score  unless  it  is  at  some 
stag  affair.  Starting  under  the  late  Fred 
L.  Hamilton  as  an  assistant  clerk  Plumley 
has  mastered  the  game  of  being  clerk.  His 
office  records  are  in  shape  every  minute 
of  the  day  and  he  has  a  modern  office 
equipment.  Plumley  may  be  rightfully 
labelled  one  of  the  coming  men  of  the  east 
side  of  the  mountain.  Some  day  the  town 
of  Northfield  will  elect  him  representative 
and  then  he  will  preside  as  speaker.  It 
may  not  be  generally  known,  but  C.  A. 
Plumley  is  one  of  the  best  presiding 
officers  to  be  found  in  Vermont  and  with 
his  knowledge  of  legislative  affairs  he 
would  make  an  admirable  speaker. 

With  him  politics  and  official  position 
are  side  lines  though  the  job  of  clerk  does 
not  leave  him  any -poorer  than  when  he 
went  to  the  capital. 

When  it  comes  to  doing  the  gold  lace 
and  clattering  sword  stunt  at  the  gov- 


A  Sometime  Speaker  87 

ernor's  ball,  watch  Charles.  He  is  genuine 
confectionery  in  a  pink  box.  He  learned 
to  be  a  soldier  at  Norwich  university 
where  he  got  his  degree  in  1896.  He  was 
born  in  Northfield  and  though  he  has  a 
bland  child-like  gaze  he  is  over  35  years 
on  his  way.  He  is  modest  almost  to  the 
point  of  bashfulness  and  when  called  upon 
to  perform  stunts  requiring  the  spot-light 
he  shows  a  marked  annoyance  at  the  glare. 
He  isn't  afflicted  with  stage  fright  though, 
and  his  white  gloves  do  not  crawl  as 
he  escorts  Mrs.  Henfeed  up  to  shake 
hands  with  a  governor  or  Mrs.  Governor. 
Once  Charles  marched  down  Pennsylva- 
nia avenue  in  an  inaugural  parade  at 
Washington ;  he  also  knows  how  to  waltz. 
He  is  married.  He  isn't  handsome  but  he 
has  a  twinkling  eye.  He  has  taught  school 
and  one  of  his  specialties  is  keeping  track 
of  events  and  people  in  Vermont. 


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ASTOR,   LENOX 
TTLDEN    FCVJKDATTONF. 


A  horseman  who  doesnt  have  to 

carry  a  year-book  under 

his 


A  YANKEE  ARISTOCRAT 

UNLESS  one  looks  at  the  records  he 
will  make  a  mistake  when  he  puts 
down  the  age  of  Senator  Cutts.  The 
average  man  would  place  Henry  in  the  50 
to  55  class  and  you  won't  find  one  in  20 
that  would  dare  to  include  this  alert 
Orwellite  above  the  60  notch.  Neverthe- 
less Henry  can  beat  that  top  figure  by  14. 
He  is  74  years  and  some  toward  the  end  of 
the  chapter,  but  he  didn't  get  off  when  the 
train  slowed  down  at  the  station  for  the 
dead  ones  to  alight.  Henry  T.  Cutts  comes 
nearer  possessing  the  attributes  of  a  diplo- 
mat than  does  any  other  man  in  the  gen- 
eral assembly  of  1910,  though  that  may  be 
somewhat  of  a  task.  Cutts  is  the  sort  of  a 
man  that  goes  in  designing  a  real  Yankee 
aristocracy.  To  start  with  Henry  is  a 
farmer.  His  farm  is  one  of  the  beauty 
spots  in  the  Champlain  valley,  and  his 
sheep — coarse-wools — are  typical  of  what 


92  A  Yankee  Aristocrat 

that  valley  can  produce  in  that  line  of 
product.  His  horses- -Morgans  and  some 
French  coach — are  the  kind  that  go  down 
to  the  ring  in  Madison  Square  and  bring 
back  the  money.  The  senator  is  not  as 
active  in  breeding  horses  as  he  was  a  few 
years  ago  and  the  horse  show  in  New  York 
does  not  draw  him  nowadays  except  as  a 
spectator,  but  there  was  a  time  when  Ben 
Franklin  blood  used  to  show  points  to 
horse  show  followers. 

Henry  and  Mrs.  Cutts  have  one  of  the 
coziest  homes  to  be  found.  Sometimes  a 
son  lives  on  the  home  farm  and  Mr.  Cutts 
makes  his  home  in  Orwell  village,  but  the 
Cutts  homestead  is  one  that  will  dispel 
homesickness  from  the  heart  of  a  man  a 
thousand  miles  from  home  on  Christmas 
morn.  It  is  the  same  sort  of  a  home  that 
Senator  Cutts  is  a  man — a  cheerful  one. 
Senator  Henry  T.  is  never  anything  but 
cheerful. 

There  isn't  anything  out  of  the  ordinary 
in  the  career  of  Senator  Cutts.  He  was 
born  in  Orwell,  has  lived  there  to  date,  is 


A  Yankee  Aristocrat  93 

a  farmer,  was  once  a  member  of  the  house 
of  representatives  and  is  probably  one  of 
the  best  known  horse  breeders  in  Vermont. 
Cutts  is  the  kind  of  a  horseman  who  does 
not  have  to  carry  a  copy  of  the  Yearbook 
under  his  arm.  He  has  been  down  the 
grand  circuit  and  back  again  and  he  has 
raised  horses  that  made  good  on  the  track. 
Last  spring  Farmer  Cutts's  name  was 
mentioned  for  the  senate  and  about  the 
same  time  the  anti-Battellites  of  Addison 
county- -there  are  antis  to  Uncle  Joe — 
produced  a  deck  of  cards  and  dealt  out 
several  names.  Henry  won  and  Addison 
county  has  no  reason  to  regret  that  he  was 
sent  to  Montpelier  this  year.  Cutts  is  not 
a  politician.  He  isn't  so  constituted  that 
he  can  frame  up  a  give-and-take  cam- 
paign. He  doesn't  expect  things  handed 
to  him  on  decorated  porcelain  but  he  does 
expect  his  friends  to  do  the  talking  if 
they  want  him  to  represent  them  in 
the  assembly.  The  senator  enjoys  ming- 
ling with  the  lawmakers  and  taking 
part  in  such  matters  as  deciding  the 


94  A  Yankee  Aristocrat 

constitutionality  of  a  law  which  would  de- 
prive a  blue-jay  of  his  right  to  dine  off  the 
fruits  of  a  Vermont  farmer.  Senator  Cutts 
isn't  old  but  he  is  old  enough  to  see  the 
funny  side  of  the  biennial  vaudeville  and 
if  he  should  confess  to  you  just  what  he 
thinks  about  the  matter  he  would  tell  you 
that  it  would  be  cheaper  for  the  state  of 
Vermont  to  hire  a  dozen  professional 
vaudeville  artists  every  winter  and  move 
them  about  from  one  town  hall  to  another 
than  to  employ  over  275  amateurs  in  this 
class  of  entertainment  once  in  two  years. 

It  is  not  a  hard  task  to  put  over  a  bunch 
of  things  on  the  average  legislator,  but  try 
it  on  Henry  T.  Cutts!  He  won't  fall  for 
Oregon  orchard  stock,  Blue  Sky  Smelting 
and  Mining  company  or  anything  else 
that  lies  under  the  grass  roots  of  some 
western  state.  He  knows  a  thing  or  two 
about  men  who  have  invested  their  gold 
in  rainbows  and  he  has  a  number  of  neigh- 
bors in  Orwell  who  have  enjoyed  the  van- 
ishing birdcage  act  when  their  money  did 


A  Yankee  Aristocrat  95 

a  mysterious  disappearance  turn  about  20 
years  ago. 

Though  Senator  Cutts  is  74  notches 
along  the  score  he  isn't  one  of  those  hard- 
shelled  specimens  that  are  held  up  as  sam- 
ples of  retarding  influences  against  the 
growth  of  Vermont.  Not  a  bit  of  it.  Cutts 
is  the  type  of  a  man  that  appreciates  the 
fact  that  rich  men  operate  whiz  wagons, 
take  an  occasional  snifter,  and  own  aero- 
planes. He  is  willing  to  let  them  do  such 
things  in  Vermont.  The  senator  lives  in  a 
town  where  the  summer  tourist  business 
adds  a  tidy  sum  to  the  bank  accounts  of 
the  natives  and  also  supports  a  first-class 
hotel.  The  senator  isn't  a  guzzler,  and  it's 
safe  to  say  that  he  wouldn't  know  the  dif- 
ference between  Seagram  and  V.  O.  P. 
He  is,  however,  a  white  man,  and  is  will- 
ing to  let  a  visitor  over  in  Ticonderoga 
come  across  into  Vermont  in  his  auto  and 
do  a  spin  along  the  lake  shore  on  the  clay 
roads.  Cutts  wouldn't  urge  hanging  for 
such  tourists. 

Sometimes  Mr.  Cutts  and  his  wife  win- 


96  A  Yankee  Aristocrat 

ter  in  California.  Though  Henry  T.  Cutts 
owns  a  dress  suit  and  does  not  hold  a  plow 
during  the  spring's  work  on  his  farm  he 
is  a  farmer.  He  knows  which  heifer  to 
keep  for  breeding  purposes  and  he  can 
tell  a  lot  of  things  about  the  value  of 
nitrate  of  soda.  That  is  why  he  was  chosen 
chairman  of  the  senate  committee  on 
agriculture. 


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ASTOr.'.    LENi 

;.'   '  i    Tlf 


He  might  be  called  a  relic  of 
dynasties  that  have 
crumbled.' 


A  GILT-EDGED  ONE 

PROBABLY  Orleans  county  has 
fewer  insurgents  than  any  other  dis- 
trict in  the  state.  They  make  a  great 
noise  about  their  regularity  up  in  Orleans. 
The  majority  of  the  natives  of  that  county 
would  rather  get  a  soft  thing  in  the  way 
of  a  political  berth  than  to  work  for  a 
living.  Even  the  old  guardsmen  who  have 
stood  against  the  crib  for  years  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  many  a  worthy  youngster  with 
an  appetite  insist  on  coming  back  and  try- 
ing the  trick  over.  To  attempt  to  make  a 
census  of  those  from  Orleans  county  who 
have  partaken  of  the  pap  from  the  state 
and  federal  teat  would  require  a  large 
volume. 

Some  of  the  bunch  who  have  separated 
money  from  the  public  strong  box  have 
been  mediocre  in  quality  while  others 
have  carried  credentials  that  entitled  them 
to  stand  near  the  throne  of  the  real 


88-      0 


100  A  Oilt-Edged  One 

pazazas.  It  is  with  the  latter  type  that 
this  sketch  deals.  Though  he  was  born  in 
the  county  of  warriors  in  the  town  of 
Rockingham  and  has  been  a  citizen  of 
Derby  only  18  years  Franklin  George 
Butterfield  —  Senator  Butterfield  —  has 
tasted  of  everything  he  could  get  his  lips 
upon  and  some  more.  You  needn't  leave 
F.  George  out  when  you're  picking  up 
skirmishers  to  make  a  raid  on  the  glory 
heap. 

While  credited  with  over  68  years  he  is 
one  of  those  individuals  who  carry  such 
little  things  as  three  score  years  lightly. 
Incidentally  it  may  be  mentioned  that  the 
senator  does  not  make  a  mess  or  a  task  of 
carrying  any  of  the  official  burdens  which 
have  been  saddled  upon  his  broad  should- 
ers since  he  emerged  from  the  gloom  and 
entered  the  area  of  the  calcium  many 
years  ago.  He  is  college  bred  and  it  was 
"Old  Midd."  that  gave  him  his  degree. 
He  has  a  war  record  gained  as  a  member 
of  the  6th  Vermont.  He  has  many  titles 
besides  his  A.  M.  He  has  been  a  captain, 


A  Gilt-Edged  One  101 

lieutenant-colonel,  and  a  judge  advocate 
general.  He  has  got  about  a  bushel  of  gilt 
badges,  and  belongs  to  so  many  military 
and  other  organizations  that  he  sometimes 
gives  one  a  grip  of  the  Big  Poo  Bahs  when 
he  intends  to  use  the  simple  handshake  of 
a  common  citizen. 

In  1898  F.  George  was  a  member  of  the 
legislature.  While  many  of  the  old  guard 
who  made  up  the  lower  branch  at  that  ses- 
sion have  passed  from  the  scene  and  the 
doings  of  that  body  have  been  mostly  for- 
gotten there  are  still  a  few  who  recollect 
how  near  Franklin  G.  came  to  getting  in 
bad  during  those  days.  He  was  looked 
upon  as  a  cake  of  ice  by  many  of  his  col- 
leagues and  only  adroit  work  upon  the 
part  of  his  friends  put  Franklin  in  right 
with  the  bunch.  Actually  he  is  a  prince  of 
good  fellows  and  a  conversationalist  that 
holds  an  audience.  It  is  safe  to  say  that 
Senator  Butterfield's  stock  of  stories  about 
the  boys  who  wore  official  regalia  and 
pulled  off  highbrow  stunts  in  days  agone 


102  A  Gilt-Edged  One 

is  about  the  best  that  can  be  located  in  the 
north  country. 

While  his  facial  makeup  does  not  re- 
semble Napoleon,  his  carriage  bears  a 
striking  resemblance  to  the  man  with  the 
cocked  hat  so  familiar  in  history.  He  is 
a  member  of  the  railroad  committee  of 
the  senate.  It  has  been  suggested  that  he 
was  placed  upon  that  committee  because 
he  is  able  to  explain  the  difference  between 
riding  in  an  ordinary  passenger  coach 
and  a  Pullman  parlor  car.  The  senator  is 
strong  on  the  social  string,  and  while  he 
looks  like  a  giant  Brownie  when  arrayed 
in  a  claw-hammer  coat  he  is  a  genuine 
Beau  Brummel.  He  is  a  manufacturer  of 
wooden  things  and  though  he  lives  on  the 
Canadian  line  is  so  much  of  an  American 
that  he  is  always  willing  to  serve  his  coun- 
try whenever  there  is  an  opening.  In  1880 
he  had  charge  of  counting  the  citizens  of 
Vermont. 

In  Montpelier  he  lives  as  becomes  a 
senator  from  Orleans  and  eats  at  the 
Pavilion.  He  drew  one  of  the  choice  seats 


A  Gilt-Edged  One  103 

in  the  senate,  No.  4.  While  Senator  But- 
terfield  belongs  to  no  end  of  societies  he 
is  a  very  democratic  individual  and  talks 
in  a  breezy  way  with  everyone  who  wants 
to  tell  him  a  story.  He  is  one  of  the  type 
of  Vermonters  who  put  stress  upon  blue 
sky,  pure  water  and  climate.  If  the  legis- 
lature should  decide  to  select  an  official 
press  agent  to  exploit  Vermont  it  would 
not  make  a  mistake  if  it  selected  General 
Butterfield  as  an  advisor  to  the  depart- 
ment of  publicity.  Though  he  lives  near 
the  north  pole  the  general  knows  lots  of 
things  about  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  it 
is  safe  to  gamble  a  small  amount  that  he 
is  in  touch  with  a  sufficient  number  of  the 
politically  inclined  in  different  parts  of 
the  state  to  keep  informed  of  the  range  of 
the  political  pulse. 

He  might  be  called  a  relic  of  dynasties 
that  have  crumbled,  yet  his  tentacles  have 
not  become  benumbed  and  he  is  ready  to 
receive  the  mantle  of  public  office  when- 
ever there  is  a  sufficient  amount  of  em- 
broidery attached  to  match  the  rest  of  his 


104  A  Gilt-Edged  One 

career.  He  is  making  money.  As  he  strolls 
about  the  office  of  the  Pavilion  he  makes 
an  imposing  picture.  He  will  always  be 
General  rather  than  Senator  to  his  friends, 
for  to  associate  F.  George  with  anything 
but  gilt  requires  a  long  draught  upon  the 
imagination. 


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ASTOR,   LENOX 
TILDEN   FOUNDATIONS 


Not  the  kind  to  get  rattled  when  a 
bouquet  comes  over  the  footlights.' 


A  MIGHTY  HUNTER 

IT  isn't  every  youngster  that  comes  to 
Vermont  who  gets  a  seat  among  the 
mighty.  Perhaps  another  way  to  put 
it  is  to  say  that  not  every  youngster  who 
locates  in  Vermont  makes  good  to  the  ex- 
tent that  he  is  selected  by  his  townspeople 
for  a  place  among  the  makers  of  law  at 
Montpelier.  It  is  somewhat  of  a  task  for 
one  born  as  late  as  1879  to  get  a  seat  in  the 
general  assembly  of  Vermont  as  early  in 
his  career  as  1910.  It  certainly  speaks  well 
for  the  New  York  product  when  a  sample 
of  it  comes  to  Vermont  in  1899  and  11 
years  later  nails  a  desk  in  the  foundry  of 
law-tinkers.  However,  that's  just  what  one 
Windham  county  member  has  done  and 
he  managed  to  get  annexed  to  a  com- 
mittee that  offered  him  an  opportunity  to 
do  a  few  things.  It  isn't  much  of  a  job  to 
sit  still  in  one's  seat  at  Montpelier  and 
answer  when  a  call  of  the  house  is  made, 


108  A  Mighty  Hunter 

but  it  is  quite  a  bit  of  a  job  to  do  something 
that  resembles  the  welfare  of  Vermont 
and  get  away  with  the  task  while  a  half  a 
dozen  boneheads  are  inflating  their  chests 
and  telling  what  ought  to  be  done.  There 
are  a  lot  of  things  that  ought  to  be  done, 
and  among  them  might  be  mentioned  the 
suppression  of  three  out  of  five  of  the 
members  of  every  legislature  that  has  been 
elected  for  the  last  12  years. 

This  is  no  secret.  Everybody  with  the 
interest  of  Vermont  at  heart  knows  that 
there  ought  to  be  an  open  season  on  leg- 
islators and  that  the  use  of  trap-guns, 
snares  and  dead-falls  should  be  permitted. 
Possibly  it  was  the  hope  of  Speaker  Howe 
that  some  such  bill  would  be  presented  to 
the  committee  on  fish  and  game  when  he 
assigned  to  the  committee,  as  the  ranking 
member  when  Chairman  Billings  was  ab- 
sent, this  Windham  county  youngster  re- 
ferred to.  Marvin  James  Howard  of  the 
town  of  Addison  Cudworth — London- 
derry— the  man  with  a  finger  in  the  pie 
and  with  both  hands  busy  in  the  making 


A  Mighty  Hunter  109 

of  fish  and  game  legislation  this  year  is  a 
youngster  who  hasn't  been  slopping  over; 
he  was  giving  his  colleagues  an  exhibition 
of  real  work. 

Now  M.  J.  knows  more  about  fish  and 
game  than  can  be  learned  from  studying 
the  label  on  a  salmon  can  or  admiring  the 
big  buck  in  the  center  of  that  familiar 
painting,  At  Bay.  Marvin  is  some  when 
it  comes  to  hunting  and  bringing  back 
game.  Moose,  deer,  and  bear  have  been 
stopped  by  bullets  from  Marvin  James's 
rifle;  and  he  has  bagged  enough  quail  in 
a  day's  shooting  to  feed  all  of  the  real 
sportsmen  of  the  Vermont  Fish  and  Game 
league  for  a  month.  Getting  this  number, 
by  the  way,  didn't  put  him  in  the  game 
hog  class  by  a  long  shot.  Marvin  isn't  one 
of  those  hunters  who  have  their  mono- 
gram embroidered  in  pink  silk  upon  their 
nighties.  He  doesn't  wear  a  nightie  when 
he  goes  hunting  in  the  big  woods  to  the 
north — up  in  Canada  and  Maine.  He 
doesn't  wear  a  highbrow  smile  at  Mont- 
pelier  and  talk  about  the  needs  of  Ver- 


110  A  Mighty  Hunter 

mont.  Not  a  bit  of  it.  Marvin  simply  gets 
down  to  business  when  a  bill  comes  to  his 
committee.  He  discusses  the  bill  with  the 
rest  of  the  members  and  the  rest  of  his 
colleagues  listen  to  what  he  says  for  he  is 
a  real  huntsman.  That's  the  reason  why 
the  State  of  Vermont  stands  a  chance  this 
session  to  draw  something  resembling 
sanity  in  the  matter  of  fish  and  game  legis- 
lation. Col.  Franklin  Billings  is  the  chair- 
man of  the  committee,  but  he  has  been  ill 
a  number  of  weeks  during  the  session  and 
has  also  had  a  number  of  matters  in  con- 
nection with  the  biennial  lawmaking  fiesta 
which  required  his  time  and  attention. 
Colonel  Billings  has  had  no  occasion  to 
worry,  for  he  has  left  matters  in  the  hands 
of  Marvin  J.  Howard,  and  M.  J.  H.,  be- 
ing a  home-made  rather  than  a  tailor- 
made  hunter,  accordingly  has  taken  a  real 
rather  than  an  affected  interest  in  his 
duties. 

Marvin  Howard,  though  a  youngster 
of  31  years,  can  tell  the  story  of  the  great 
outdoors  in  a  way  that  would  make  Jack 


A  Mighty  Hunter  111 

London  crawl  inside  his  sleeping  bag  and 
remain  quiet.  Howard  is  the  possessor  of 
the  heads  of  moose  and  deer  and  the  pelts 
of  bear — all  the  trophies  of  his  own  rifle. 
He  is  also  the  possessor  of  a  fund  of  real 
"hoss  sense,"  that  his  colleagues  have  seen 
fit  to  draw  upon  during  the  meetings  of 
the  fish  and  game  committee.  Howard 
has  never  been  able  to  make  himself  be- 
lieve that  simply  because  there  was  a  big 
bunch  of  tender-heads  in  the  general 
assembly  their  ideas  should  be  presented 
to  the  rest  of  the  world  in  the  shape  of  fish 
and  game  legislation. 

Marvin  J.  has  broken  into  the  political 
life  of  his  town  a  trifle  and  is  a  member 
of  the  republican  town  committee.  He  has 
been  a  fish  and  game  warden  for  three 
years,  and  his  father-in-law  is  a  politician. 
Marvin  is  connected  with  a  general  store 
and  whenever  a  customer  comes  in  and 
announces  that  a  bear,  deer,  fox  or  any- 
thing worth  shooting  is  in  the  vicinity 
it's  up  to  Marvin.  He  never  comes  back 
without  the  goods,  though  he  can  tell  a 


112  A  Mighty  Hunter 

few  good  tales  about  getting  hungry  and 
footsore  before  overtaking  a  bear.  He 
isn't  the  kind  of  a  man  who  gets  rattled 
when  a  bouquet  comes  over  the  footlights. 
That's  just  the  reason  why  Londonderry 
has  sent  to  the  assembly  a  valuable  man. 
He  is  probably  as  valuable  to  the  rest  of 
the  state  as  he  is  to  his  own  town  on  account 
of  his  real  knowledge  of  the  needs  of 
sportsmen. 


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ASTOR.    LENOX 


Cigar  smoke  doesn't  send  him  home 
with  a  headache." 


ANOTHER  UNOSTENTATIOUS 
SENATOR 

THE  visitor  in  the  gallery  of  the 
chamber  that  holds  the  upper  strata 
of  law  tinkers  at  the  capitol  finds  it 
easy  to  pick  out  the  celebrities  whether 
they  have  face  ornamentation  in  the  shape 
of  hair  or  are  so  diminutive  as  to  barely 
fill  their  chairs.  There  is  always  a  bunch 
of  swivel-necks  who  attract  attention  in 
both  houses  and  it  is  these  boys  from  the 
timber  who  oftentimes  see  their  name  in 
print  for  no  other  reason  than  that  it  is 
impossible  to  chronicle  the  doings  of  a 
sitting  without  including  a  bundle  of  bills 
introduced  by  these  jacks-in-the-box  who 
are  Johnnies-on-the-job  when  it  comes  to 
furnishing  material  for  the  committee  on 
revision  of  bills.  Every  county  is  afflicted 
with  a  crop  of  such  individuals  and  when 
a  really  unostentatious  member  arrives 
there  is  some  doubt  in  the  minds  of  the 


116  An  Unostentatious  Senator 

attaches  of  the  capitol  whether  he  is  up  to 
par  or  afraid. 

The  premier  among  the  unostentatious 
at  this  session  of  the  assembly  comes  near 
being  a  man  from  Orange  county.  This 
county  is  credited  with  a  host  of  unosten- 
tatious citizens,  but  there  are  none  who 
have  anything  on  the  senator  from  Orange 
who  makes  his  home  in  Williamstown. 
You  can't  flim-flam  Lewis  Mead  Seaver 
into  believing  that  he  should  cackle  every 
time  Lieutenant-Governor  Slack  opens 
his  mouth  to  speak.  Lewis  isn't  so  old  that 
he  has  lost  the  use  of  his  thorax,  for  he 
boasts  only  62  years,  but  he  has  cultivated 
the  habit  of  keeping  his  mouth  closed 
whenever  he  has  nothing  to  say.  If  there 
is  a  member  of  the  legislature  who  cannot 
be  charged  with  posing  it  is  this  same 
Lewis  M.  Though  he  may  be  considered 
a  bit  canny  when  approached  by  some 
political  scout  with  a  scheme  concealed 
about  his  clothes,  Senator  Seaver  is  the 
easiest  man  in  the  world  to  engage  in  con- 
versation. He  doesn't  swell  up  like  a 


An  Unostentatious  Senator  117 

poisoned  pup  or  display  symptoms  of 
apoplexy  when  talking.  He  is  handy  with 
the  English  language,  too,  and  when  it 
comes  to  dictating  a  letter  Lewis  is  some 
candy  and  a  bit  on  top  of  that. 

Though  Senator  Seaver  made  his  first 
pass  at  the  big  pot  in  1908  he  has  been 
one  of  the  ingredients  of  the  broth  in 
Orange  county  since  1904  when  he  became 
a  school  director  in  his  native  town.  He 
held  that  job  for  a  few  years,  and  has  also 
been  the  agent  of  the  town,  and  is  at  pres- 
ent a  selectman.  This  is  about  all  the  in- 
formation one  gets  from  the  archives,  for 
Lewis  is  modest  and  does  not  tell  what  he 
knows  and  thinks  every  time  a  biographi- 
cal solicitor  comes  along  with  a  hum  about 
making  the  senator  great.  Mead  knows 
just  how  big  he  is  himself,  and  he  never 
attempts  to  make  a  man  believe  that  he  is 
any  bigger.  He  may  have  opinions  as  to 
what  constitutes  greatness  in  his  colleagues 
but  he  isn't  writing  a  book  containing  his 
impressions.  To  show  that  L.  M.  S.  is 
worth  listening  to  may  be  mentioned  the 


118  An  Unostentatious  Senator 

committee  appointments  he  drew.  Lewis 
is  a  member  of  the  finance,  claims  and  cor- 
porations committees  of  the  senate,  and 
he  does  work  upon  all  of  them. 

A  dozen  years  ago  Seaver  had  not  been 
mentioned  by  those  making  up  lists  of 
strong  men,  prominent  citizens  and  per- 
sons supposed  to  know  what  is  going  on 
under  the  surface.  It  was  less  than  five 
years  ago  that  his  name  appeared  on  the 
confidential  list  of  men  whose  knowledge 
of  conditions  warrant  them  in  expressing 
an  opinion.  He  drew  a  place  on  the  ways 
and  means  committee  of  the  house  of  1908, 
and  though  he  didn't  fret  the  assembly 
with  talk  at  that  session  he  was  one  of  the 
members  who  worked. 

Seaver  need  not  be  classed  as  one  who 
has  reached  the  top  of  the  ladder  by  any 
means.  While  he  probably  has  no  aspira- 
tions to  go  to  congress  or  to  hold  down 
Leighton  P.  Slack's  job  of  gavel-pounder, 
he  would  doubtless  like  to  come  back 
again  to  the  assembly,  and  it's  a  safe  guess 
that  when  he  does  come  back  it  will  be  as 


An  Unostentatious  Senator  119 

a  member  of  the  lower  branch,  for  it's 
there  that  Lewis  M.  could  make  himself 
felt.  Williamstown  won't  make  a  mistake 
in  sending  the  senator  back  sometime,  and 
if  it  should  decide  that  he  is  the  man  to 
represent  the  town  in  1912  it  will  be  con- 
tributing a  working  member  of  the  next 
assembly. 

He  is  a  noiseless  dresser  and  though  he 
doesn't  look  the  part,  he  is  a  farmer  in 
addition  to  being  interested  in  a  corpora- 
tion. He  doesn't  board  at  the  Pavilion, 
but  he  is  a  mixer  and  cigar  smoke  doesn't 
send  him  home  with  a  headache.  Seaver 
can  be  convinced  and  he  has  to  be  before 
he  votes.  If  the  senate  was  composed  of 
Seavers  the  business  of  the  official  reporter 
would  be  reduced  to  a  point  that  would 
make  the  flimsies  look  transparent.  To 
epitomize  Seaver,  senator  from  Orange, 
is  to  say  that  he  is  a  frictionless  worker 
who  does  not  spoil  the  picture  by  opening 
his  mouth  too  often.  While  some  of  the 
members  of  both  bodies  of  the  assembly 
crave  publicity  it  is  not  so  with  Lewis  M. 


120  An  Unostentatious  Senator 

Truly  he  is  averse  to  anything  like  a 
bouquet  and  if  one  is  handed  him  he 
won't  thank  the  individual  who  presents 
the  posies. 


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ASTOR,    LENOX 
rfLDEN   FOUNDATION1 


He  ought  to  know  better  than  to 
make  such  ludicrous  attempts 
at  being  funny. ' 


IVES 

IT  takes  all  kinds  of  men  to  compose  a 
general  assembly.  Highbrows,  bone- 
heads,  pussyfoots,  reformers,  agita- 
tors, etc.,  are  to  be  found  in  every  legisla- 
ture. The  "etc."  includes  no  end  of  funny 
ones.  Some  are  extremely  funny,  others 
are  funny  and  don't  know  it.  Then  there 
occasionally  gets  in  one  that  thinks  he's 
funny  and  makes  the  rest  laugh  because 
he  thinks  so.  To  be  the  humorist  of  a  Ver- 
mont legislature  is  a  stunt  that  can't  be 
pulled  off  by  every  Tom,  Dick  or  Harry 
that  lands  in  Montpelier.  To  attempt  the 
job  without  credentials  is  extremely  fool- 
hardy. 

Sometimes  Steve  Bowles  makes  motions 
that  are  really  funny,  and  at  times  Frank 
Corry  contributes  a  bunch  of  bulls  that 
may  be  classed  as  unintentional  humor, 
but  the  newest  type  of  alleged  humorist 
comes  from  Rutland  county.  He  drew  an 


124  Ives 

appointment  on  the  military  affairs  com- 
mittee, and  lives  on  the  side  hill.  He  has 
seat  30,  directly  behind  the  assistant 
clerk's,  and  every  time  Morton  A.  Ives 
of  Mount  Holly,  puts  in  his  contribution 
to  the  gaiety  of  things  he  is  so  located  that 
gallery  habitues  can  get  a  proper  focus 
on  him. 

Morton  really  outclasses  anything  that 
Mount  Holly  has  ever  before  attempted. 
As  yet  he  has  not  attempted  to  josh  the 
chaplain,  but  what  he  has  attempted  in 
the  way  of  impeding  legislation  warrants 
him  being  returned  to  the  legislature  in 
two  years  and  also  entitles  him  to  be  made 
the  chairman  of  a  committee  of  one  to 
devise  ways  and  means  to  suppress  would- 
be  funny  ones. 

Ives  ought  to  know  better  than  to  make 
such  ludicrous  attempts  at  being  funny, 
for  he  is  73  years  old  and  was  educated  at 
Black  River  academy.  His  career  as  a 
public  servant  includes  "every  office  un- 
der the  district  school  system,"  according 
to  Morton's  biographer,  and  this  may  be 


Ives  125 

largely  responsible  for  his  condition. 
Then  he  has  always  lived  in  Mount  Holly, 
and  his  sudden  appearance  in  the  lime- 
light at  the  law  factory  may  have  done 
something  to  him. 

He  is  different  from  Nye,  Ward,  Bil- 
lings, and  other  humorists,  whose  say- 
ings are  always  good  for  a  laugh.  One 
never  tires  reading  what  Bill  Nye  wrote. 
Though  the  house  may  be  busy,  Mortie, 
the  gay  old  owl  of  Mount  Holly,  hands 
out  a  line  of  slush  that  he  seems  to  think 
is  A  1,  V.  O.  P.,  bottled-in-bond  humor. 
The  rest  of  the  members  are  inclined  to 
get  hysterical  when  Ives  tries  to  be  funny. 
While  "a  little  nonsense  now  and  then  is 
relished  by  the  best  of  men,"  this  vaude- 
villian  from  Mount  Holly  doesn't  get  the 
hunch  that  the  best  of  men  prefer  a  breath- 
ing spell  once  in  a  while.  He  doesn't  seem 
to  know  what  the  word  "little"  means. 

Ives  can't  be  accused  of  false  pretenses 
so  far  as  his  facial  architecture  is  con- 
cerned. He  resembles  a  missionary  rather 
than  a  humorist.  What  puzzles  his  fellow 


126  I  vet 

members  is  how  Morton  convinces  him- 
self that  he  is  funny.  His  certificate  of 
election  in  the  office  of  the  secretary  of 
state  makes  no  reference  to  the  affliction. 
However,  he  can't  be  suppressed  and  will 
probably  go  to  his  home  at  the  end  of  the 
session  thinking  that  he  is  the  first  and 
only  funny  man  that  was  ever  elected  to  a 
Vermont  legislature.  At  home  Morton 
isn't  considered  dangerous  in  the  funny 
line.  He  is  a  real  estate  boomer  and  when 
he  gets  a  chance  sells  a  slice  of  Mount 
Holly's  side  hills  to  those  wishing  to  start 
a  fresh  air  plant.  Morton's  attempts  at 
humor  have  lacked  the  sting  of  person- 
ality and  have  proven  harmless,  even  if 
annoying.  He  will  be  as  quickly  forgiven 
as  he  will  be  forgotten,  which  is  going 
some,  as  the  man  said  who  lost  three  wives 
in  as  many  years. 


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PUBLIC  LIBRARY 


ASTOR.    LENOX 
TTLDEN    l  'DATIONP. 


'Simply  a  man  from  one  of  the  mucli- 
lalked-about  small 


A  DEMOCRATIC  DEMOCRAT 

HOW  would  you  like  to  be  the  big 
noise  of  your  political  party  in  a 
town  where  the  total  voting 
strength  of  the  place  is  less  than  40? 
When  you  can  win  against  combinations 
in  a  town  with  such  a  voting  population  as 
has  Athens  you  may  consider  you  are  all 
there  as  an  organizer.  It  was  a  close  shave 
for  Uncle  John  Abner  Mead  in  that  bit  of 
landscape  last  fall.  He  got  19,  and  Charlie 
Watson  was  one  vote  behind  him.  The 
town  went  republican  on  the  state  ticket 
but  it  sent  to  the  assembly  a  yard-wide 
democrat.  Such  democrats  as  Watson 
have  to  wait  until  a  democratic  president 
is  elected  before  they  can  get  a  taste  of  the 
public  pap,  but  not  so  with  Nial.  N.  B.  is 
somewhat  and  a  bit  more  when  it  comes 
to  the  question  of  who  shall  represent  the 
town  of  Athens.  He  may  not  always  wear 
his  socks  right  side  out  and  he  may  occa- 


130  A  Democratic  Democrat 

sionally  forget  his  neckwear  but  he  has 
got  it  on  a  big  bunch  of  limbernecks  who 
think  they  know  the  frame-up  and  freeze- 
out  game  from  east  to  west. 

Now  Nial  is  a  product  of  the  soil  of  the 
town  from  which  he  hails  and  he  has  been 
living  there  since  he  was  born  in  1875.  It 
is  needless  to  say  that  he  is  not  a  capitalist. 
There  are  no  democratic  capitalists  in 
Athens.  Nial  is  an  agriculturist,  and 
though  he  doesn't  play  the  long  string  on 
the  scientific  part  of  the  business  he  knows 
too  much  to  attempt  any  such  a  thing  as 
crossing  squash  vines  with  tomato  plants. 
He  comes  as  near  being  what  the  picture 
books  call  a  typical  Vermonter  as  can  be 
found  in  the  legislature  this  term.  His 
eye  is  that  of  a  man  who,  by  experience, 
has  learned  that  it  is  always  best  to  take  a 
chance  and  discount  what  his  neighbors 
tell  him.  Nial  isn't  the  sort  to  place  all 
men  in  the  category  of  liars,  but  he  knows 
a  few  individuals  who  have  given  him  the 
song  of  the  siren,  and  he  is  cautious. 

Whenever  Nial  Bemis  wants  something 


A  Democratic  Democrat  131 

in  Athens  there  is  more  excitement  over 
the  matter  than  there  would  be  if  one  of 
the  deacons  of  that  hamlet  should  be 
caught  with  a  poker  deck  in  his  boot  leg. 
Bemis  can  start  something  quicker  in 
Athens  than  almost  anyone  else.  He  isn't 
a  drooling  office  seeker  but  he  has  had  a 
hankering  for  a  number  of  years  to  repre- 
sent his  town  in  the  legislature  and  he  got 
there  last  fall.  He  did  not  draw  a  place 
on  the  railroad  committee  and  his  name 
does  not  appear  on  the  committees  of  ways 
and  means  and  appropriations.  But  this 
means  nothing  particular.  Bemis  could 
hand  the  members  of  either  of  these  com- 
mittees bits  of  home-made  philosophy  and 
advice  that  wouldn't  cut  as  deeply  into 
the  treasury  as  do  some  of  the  suggestions 
of  his  colleagues. 

Bemis  is  simply  a  man  from  one  of 
the  much-talked-about  "small  towns."  It 
wouldn't  make  any  difference  if  he  pos- 
sessed the  wisdom  of  Solomon  his  chance 
of  getting  a  place  where  he  could  serve 
his  state  would  be  nil.  Bemis  was  assigned 


132  A\Democratic  Democrat 

to  the  general  committee  and  supposed  to 
have  been  shelved.  He  was  shelved,  but 
there  are  a  number  of  men  of  the  legisla- 
ture of  1910  who  will  remember  this 
democratic  democrat  from  Athens.  There 
isn't  so  much  as  a  suspicion  of  frills  about 
Bemis.  He  doesn't  crave  compliments  and 
he  wouldn't  appreciate  flattery.  He  is  sim- 
ply an  example  of  the  soil  tiller  of  Wind- 
ham  county  who  has  endeavored  to  do  his 
duty  in  the  general  assembly.  Doubtless 
there  are  a  few  score  of  fine  hairs  who 
think  they  could  make  laws  without  the 
aid  of  Nial.  Nial  doesn't  care.  He  isn't 
of  a  jealous  disposition.  He  knows  that 
there  are  a  number  of  hollow-skulls  in 
the  legislature  who  got  by  in  some  unac- 
countable way,  but  he  is  also  aware  that 
the  constitution  allows  these  individuals 
to  indulge  in  lawmaking  and  so  he  left  his 
gun  at  home. 

Mr.  Bemis  doesn't  have  palpitation  of 
the  heart  when  some  celebrity  is  intro- 
duced to  him.  He  isn't  strong  on  an 
acquaintance  with  celebrities  but  he  is  a 


A  Democratic  Democrat  133 

pretty  good  judge  of  the  average  run  of 
humans  and  he  knows  that  some  of  the 
Vermont  brand  of  celebrities  ought  to  be 
in  Windsor  instead  of  Montpelier.  Nial 
lives  on  the  lower  level  in  the  capital  city, 
and  if  the  water  of  the  north  branch 
should  start  on  its  annual  rampage  some 
evening  before  the  legislature  adjourns 
N.  B.  would  have  to  climb  the  cliffs  near 
his  abode  on  Elm  street.  He  drew  a  seat 
back  near  a  window  at  the  left  of  the 
speaker,  but  Nial  isn't  troubled  with  cold 
feet  nor  does  he  wear  mittens  and  muf- 
flers except  when  he  is  on  a  log  job  in  the 
woods. 

There  isn't  a  more  conscientious  mem- 
ber of  this  session  than  Nial  Bemis.  The 
manhandlers  and  logrollers  have  failed 
to  kidglove  Nial  every  time  there  was 
need  of  a  vote,  and  accordingly  he  is 
looked  upon  as  too  independent  to  repre- 
sent a  small  town.  Nial  Bemis  is  a  man  of 
opinions.  He  wanted  to  go  to  the  legisla- 
ture and  it  required  a  bit  of  diplomacy  to 
land  the  job,  but  he  arrived.  He  doesn't 


184  A  Democratic  Democrat 

looks  the  part  of  Beau  Brummel  and  he 
doesn't  try  to.  He  can  figure  interest  with 
the  best  of  them.  His  knowledge  of  land 
values  would  make  the  ordinary  lister  and 
appraiser  hesitate  to  challenge  his  opin- 
ion, yet  Nial  wasn't  offered  a  place  on  any 
committee  where  he  could  offer  the  state 
what  he  has  wrung  from  the  soil — experi- 
ence. Probably  Nial's  public  career  has 
reached  its  zenith.  His  chances  of  being 
a  member  of  the  state  senate  are  no  better 
than  those  of  a  snowball  on  a  hot  stove. 
Yet  his  record  to  date  is  one  of  which  he 
needn't  be  ashamed. 


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