"Oh! That's just an abomination! _Such_ talk about so grand a young
chap! But I just saw a billboard with a sign saying: 'Bill Gadsby for
Council;' so, probably I shouldn't worry, for Bill is as good as in."
"Baby," said Gadsby, kindly, "that's only a billboard, and billboards
don't put a man in City Hall. It's _ballots_, darling; _thousands_ of
ballots, that fill Council chairs."
"But, Daddy, I'm going to root for Bill. I'll stand up on a stump, or
in a tip-cart, or----"
"Whoa! Wait a bit!" and Gadsby sat down by his "baby girl," saying:
"You can't go on a stumping campaign without knowing a lot about
municipal affairs; which you don't. Any antagonist who knows about
such things would out-talk you without half trying. No, darling, this
political stuff is too big for you. You just look out for things in
that small bungalow of yours, and allow Branton Hills to fight to put
Bill in. You know my old slogan:--'Man at a city's front; woman at a
cabin door.'"
And Nancy, fondly stroking his hand, said:
"Man at a city's front! What a grand post for a man! A city, a big,
rushing, dashing, slamming, banging, boiling mass of humanity! A city;
with its bright, happy, sunny parks; and its sad, dark slums; its rich
mansions and its shanty-town shacks; its shops, inns, shows, courts,
airports, railway stations, hospitals, schools, church groups, social
clubs, and,--and,--_Oh!_ _What_ a magic visualization of human thought
it is! But it is as a small child. It looks for a strong arm to support
its first toddlings; for adult minds to pilot it around many pitfalls;
and onward, _onward!!_ To a shining goal!!" and Nancy's crown of rich
brown hair sank lovingly in Gadsby's lap.