COMMISSIONS.
Peter made his dinner call at Miss De Voe’s, but did not find her at
home. He received a very pleasant letter expressing her regret at
missing him, and a request to lunch with her two days later, and to go
with some friends to an afternoon piano recital, “if you care for
music. If not, merely lunch with us.” Peter replied that he was very
sorry, but business called him to Albany on that day.
“I really regret it,” said Miss De Voe to Dorothy. “It is getting so
late in the season, that unless he makes his call quickly, I shall
hardly be able to give him more than one other chance.”
Peter’s business in Albany had been sprung on him suddenly. It was
neither more nor less than a request sent verbally through Costell from
Governor Catlin, to come up and see him.
“It’s about the food and tenement commission bills,” Costell told him.
“They’ll be passed by the Senate to-day or to-morrow, and be in
Catlin’s hands.”
“I hope he’ll make good appointments,” said Peter, anxiously.
“I think he will,” said Costell, smiling quietly. “But I don’t believe
they will be able to do much. Commissions are commonly a way of staving
off legislation.”
Peter went up to Albany and saw Catlin. Much to his surprise he found
the Governor asking his advice about the bills and the personnel of the
commissions. But after a few minutes he found that this seeking for aid
and support in all matters was chronic, and meant nothing special in
his own case.
“Mr. Schlurger tells me, though he introduced the bills, that you
drafted both. Do you think I had better sign them?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Costell told me to take your advice. You really think I had
better?”
“Yes.”
The Governor evidently found something solacing in the firm voice in
which Peter spoke his “yes.” He drew two papers towards him.
“You really think I had better?”
“Yes.”
The Governor dipped his pen in the ink, but hesitated.
“The amendments haven’t hurt them?” he queried.
“Not much.”
“But they have been hurt?”
“They have been made better in some ways.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Still the Governor hesitated, but finally began a big G. Having
committed himself, he wrote the rest rapidly. He paused for a moment
over the second bill, and fingered it nervously. Then he signed it
quickly. “That’s done.” He shoved them both away much as if they were
dangerous.
“I wonder,” thought Peter, “if he enjoys politics?”
“There’s been a great deal of trouble about the commissioners,” said
the Governor.
“I suppose so,” said Peter.
“Even now, I can’t decide. The leaders all want different men.”
“The decision rests with you.”
“That’s the trouble,” sighed the Governor. “If only they’d agree.”
“You should make your own choice. You will be held responsible if the
appointments are bad.”
“I know I shall. Just look over those lists, and see if you think
they’ll do?”
Peter took the slips of paper and read them.
“I needn’t say I’m pleased to see my name,” he said. “I had no idea you
would think of me.”
“That was done by Costell,” said the Governor, hastening to shift the
responsibility.
“I really don’t know any of the rest well enough to express an opinion.
Personally, I should like to see some scientific men on each
commission.”
“Scientific! But we have none in politics.”
“No? But this isn’t politics.”
“I hoped you’d think these lists right.”
“I think they are good. And the bills give us the power to take
evidence; perhaps we can get the scientific part that way.”
Peter did his best to brace Catlin up; and his talk or other pressure
seemed to have partially galvanized the backbone of that limp
individual, for a week later the papers announced the naming of the two
commissions. The lists had been changed, however. That on food
consisted of Green, a wholesale grocer, and a member of the Health
Board. Peter’s name had been dropped. That on tenements, of five
members, was made up of Peter; a very large property-owner in New York,
who was a member as well of the Assembly; a professional labor
agitator; a well-known politician of the better type, and a public
contractor. Peter, who had been studying some reports of a British
Royal Commission on the same subject, looked grave, thinking that what
the trained men in England had failed in doing, he could hardly hope to
accomplish with such ill-assorted instruments. The papers were rather
down on the lists. “The appointments have destroyed any chance of
possible benefit,” was their general conclusion, and Peter feared they
were right.
Costell laughed when Peter spoke of the commissions. “If you want
Catlin to do anything well, you’ve got to stand over him till it’s
done. I wanted you on both commissions, so that you could see how
useless they all are, and not blame us politicians for failing in our
duty. Green promises to get you appointed Secretary of the Food
Commission, which is the next best thing, and will give you a good
salary for a time.”
The Tenement Commission met with little delay, and Peter had a chance
to examine its motley members. The big landlord was a great swell, who
had political ambitions, but was too exclusive, and too much of a
dilettante to be a real force. Peter took a prejudice against him
before meeting him, for he knew just how his election to the Assembly
had been obtained—even the size of the check—and Peter thought buying
an election was not a very creditable business. He did not like what he
knew of the labor agitator, for such of the latter’s utterances and
opinions as he had read seemed to be the cheapest kind of demagogism.
The politician he had met and liked. Of the contractor he knew nothing.
The Commission organized by electing the politician as chairman. Then
the naming of a secretary was discussed, each member but Peter having a
candidate. Much to Peter’s surprise, the landlord, Mr. Pell, named Ray
Rivington.
“I thought he was studying law?” Peter said.
“He is,” said Pell. “But he can easily arrange to get off for the few
hours we shall meet a week, and the five dollars a day will be a very
nice addition to his income. Do you know him?”
“We were in college together. I thought he was rich.”
“No. He’s of good family, but the Rivingtons are growing poorer every
year. They try to live on their traditions, and traditions don’t pay
grocers. I hope you’ll help him. He’s a very decent fellow.”
“I shall vote for him,” replied Peter, marvelling that he should be
able to give a lift to the man who, in the Harvard days, had seemed so
thoroughly the mate of Watts and the other rich fellows of the “gang.”
Rivington being the only candidate who had two votes, he was promptly
selected.
Thirty arduous minutes were spent in waiting for the arrival of the
fifth member of the Commission, and in the election of chairman and
secretary. A motion was then made to adjourn, on the ground that the
Commission could not proceed without the secretary.
Peter promptly objected. He had been named secretary for this
particular meeting, and offered to act until Rivington could be
notified. “I think,” he said, “that we ought to lay out our programme.”
The labor agitator agreed with him, and, rising, delivered an extempore
speech, declaring that “we must not delay. The leeches (here he looked
at Mr. Pell) are sucking the life-blood of the people,” etc.
The chairman started to call him to order, but Peter put his hand on
the chairman’s arm. “If you stop him,” he said in a low voice, “he’ll
think we are against him, and he’ll say so outside.”
“But it’s such foolishness.”
“And so harmless! While he’s talking, look over this.” Peter produced
an outline of action which he had drawn up, and having written it in
duplicate, he passed one draft over to Mr. Pell.
They all let the speech go on, Peter, Mr. Pell and the chairman
chatting over the plan, while the contractor went to sleep. The
agitator tried to continue, but as the inattention became more and more
evident, his speech became tamer and tamer. Finally he said, “That is
my opinion,” and sat down.
The cessation of the oration waked up the contractor, and Peter’s
outline was read aloud.
“I don’t move its adoption,” said Peter. “I merely submit it as a
basis.”
Not one of the members had come prepared with knowledge of how to go to
work, except the chairman, who had served on other commissions. He
said:
“I think Mr. Stirling’s scheme shows very careful thought and is
admirable. We cannot do better than adopt it.”
“It is chiefly copied from the German committee of three years ago,”
Peter told them. “But I have tried to modify it to suit the different
conditions.”
Mr. Pell objected to the proposed frequent sittings. Thereupon the
agitator praised that feature. The hour of meeting caused discussion.
But finally the scheme was adopted, and the date of the first session
fixed.
Peter went downstairs with Mr. Pell, and the latter offered to drop him
at his office. So they drove off together, and talked about the
Commission.
“That Kurfeldt is going to be a nuisance,” said Pell
“I can’t say yet. He evidently has no idea of what our aim is. Perhaps,
though, when we really get to work, he’ll prove useful.”
Peter had a call the next day from Rivington. It was made up of thanks,
of college chat, and of inquiry as to duties. Peter outlined the
preliminary work, drafted the “Inquiries” and other printed papers
necessary to be sent out before the first meeting, and told him about
the procedure at the meetings.
“I know I shall get into all kinds of pickles,” said Ray. “I write such
a bad hand that often I can’t read it myself. How the deuce am I to
take down evidence?”
“I shall make notes for my own use, and you will be welcome to them, if
they will help you.”
“Thanks, Peter. That’s like you.”
The Commission began its inquiry, on the date fixed, and met three
times a week from that time on. Peter did not try to push himself
forward, but he was by far the best prepared on the subject, and was
able to suggest the best sources of information. He asked good
questions, too, of the various witnesses summoned. Finally he was the
one regular attendant, and therefore was the one appealed to for
information elicited at previous meetings. He found the politician his
best helper. Pell was useful when he attended, which was not very
often, and even this intermittent attendance ceased in June. “I’m going
to Newport,” he explained, and did not appear again till late in the
fall. The contractor really took no part in the proceedings beyond a
fairly frequent attendance, and an occasional fit of attention whenever
the inquiry related to building. The labor-agitator proved quite a good
man. He had, it is true, no memory, and caused them to waste much time
in reading over the minutes of previous meetings. But he was in
earnest, and proved to be perfectly reasonable as soon as he found that
the commissioners’ duties were to inquire and not to make speeches.
Peter walked home with him several times, and they spent evenings
together in Peter’s rooms, talking over the evidence, and the
possibilities.
Peter met a great many different men in the course of the inquiry;
landlords, real-estate agents, architects, engineers, builders,
plumbers, health officials, doctors and tenants. In many cases he went
to see these persons after they had been before the Commission, and
talked with them, finding that they were quite willing to give facts in
private which they did not care to have put on record.
He had been appointed the Secretary of the Food Commission, and spent
much time on that work. He was glad to find that he had considerable
influence, and that Green not merely acted on his suggestions, but
encouraged him to make them. The two inquiries were so germane that
they helped him reciprocally. No reports were needed till the next
meeting of the Legislature, in the following January, and so the two
commissions took enough evidence to swamp them. Poor Ray was reduced
almost to despair over the mass of “rubbish” as he called it, which he
would subsequently have to put in order.
Between the two tasks, Peter’s time was well-nigh used up. It was
especially drawn upon when the taking of evidence ceased and the
drafting of the reports began. Ray’s notes proved hopeless, so Peter
copied out his neatly, and let Ray have them, rather glad that
irrelevant and useless evidence was thus omitted. It was left to Peter
to draw the report, and when his draft was submitted, it was
accompanied by a proposed General Tenement-house Bill. Both report and
bill were slightly amended, but not in a way that Peter minded.
Peter drew the Food-Commission report as well, although it went before
the Commission as Green’s. To this, too, a proposed bill was attached,
which had undergone the scrutiny of the Health Board, and had been
conformed to their suggestions.
In November Peter carried both reports to Albany, and had a long talk
with Catlin over them. That official would have preferred no reports,
but since they were made, there was nothing to do but to submit them to
the Legislature. Peter did not get much encouragement from him about
the chances for the bills. But Costell told him that they could be
“whipped through. The only danger is of their being amended, so as to
spoil them.”
“Well,” said Peter, “I hope they will be passed. I’ve done my best,
whatever happens.”
A very satisfactory thing to be able to say of yourself, if you believe
in your own truthfulness.