sat in all the various attitudes that express weariness; some, tilted back, had one or more legs disposed upon their desks; some sharpened pencils indolently; some scribbled aimlessly; some yawned and stretched; a great many lay upon their breasts upon the desks, sound asleep and gently snoring. The flooding gaslight from the fancifully wrought roof poured down upon the tranquil scene. Hardly a sound disturbed the stillness, save the monotonous eloquence of the gentleman who occupied the floor. Now and then a warrior of the opposition broke down under the pressure, gave it up, and went home.
Mr. Buckstone began to think it might be safe, now, to “proceed to business.” He consulted with Trollop and one or two others. Senator Dilworthy descended to the floor of the House and they went to meet him. After a brief comparison of notes, the Congressmen sought their seats and sent pages about the House with messages to friends. These latter instantly roused up, yawned, and began to look alert. The moment the floor was unoccupied, Mr. Buckstone rose, with an injured look, and said it was evident that the opponents of the bill were merely talking against time, hoping in this unbecoming way to tire out the friends of the measure and so defeat it. Such conduct might be respectable enough in a village debating society, but it was trivial among statesmen, it was out of place in so august an assemblage as the House of Representatives of the United States. The friends of the bill had been not only willing that its opponents should express their opinions, but had strongly desired it. They courted the fullest and freest discussion; but it seemed to him that this fairness was but illy appreciated, since gentlemen were capable of taking advantage of it for selfish and unworthy ends. This trifling had gone far enough. He called for the question.
The instant Mr. Buckstone sat down, the storm burst forth. A dozen gentlemen sprang to their feet.
“Mr. Speaker!”
“Mr. Speaker!”
“Mr. Speaker!”
“Order! Order! Order! Question! Question!”
The sharp blows of the Speaker’s gavel rose above the din.
The “previous question,” that hated gag, was moved and carried. All debate came to a sudden end, of course. Triumph No. 1.
Then the vote was taken on the adoption of the report and it carried by a surprising majority.
Mr. Buckstone got the floor again and moved that the rules be suspended and the bill read a first time.
Mr. Trollop — ”Second the motion!”
The Speaker — ”It is moved and — ”
Clamor of Voices. “Move we adjourn! Second the motion! Adjourn! Adjourn! Order! Order!”
The Speaker, (after using his gavel vigorously) — ”It is moved and seconded that the House do now adjourn. All those in favor — ”
Voices — ”Division! Division! Ayes and nays! Ayes and nays!”
It was decided to vote upon the adjournment by ayes and nays. This was in earnest. The excitement was furious. The galleries were in commotion in an instant, the reporters swarmed to their places. Idling members of the House flocked to their seats, nervous gentlemen sprang to their feet, pages flew hither and thither, life and animation were visible everywhere, all the long ranks of faces in the building were kindled.
“This thing decides it!” thought Mr. Buckstone; “but let the fight proceed.”
The voting began, and every sound ceased but the calling if the names and the “Aye!” “No!” “No!” “Aye!” of the responses. There was not a movement in the House; the people seemed to hold their breath.
The voting ceased, and then there was an interval of dead silence while the clerk made up his count. There was a two-thirds vote on the University side — and two over.
The Speaker — ”The rules are suspended, the motion is carried — first reading of the bill!”
By one impulse the galleries broke forth into stormy applause, and even some of the members of the House were not wholly able to restrain their feelings. The Speaker’s gavel came to the rescue and his clear voice followed:
“Order, gentlemen — ! The House will come to order! If spectators offend again, the Sergeant-at-arms will clear the galleries!”
Then he cast his eyes aloft and gazed at some object attentively for a moment. All eyes followed the direction of the Speaker’s, and then there was a general titter. The Speaker said:
“Let the Sergeant-at Arms inform the gentleman that his conduct is an infringement of the dignity of the House — and one which is not warranted by the state of the weather.” Poor Sellers was the culprit. He sat in the front seat of the gallery, with his arms and his tired body overflowing the balustrade — sound asleep, dead to all excitements, all disturbances. The fluctuations of the Washington weather had influenced his dreams, perhaps, for during the recent tempest of applause he had hoisted his gingham umbrella, and calmly gone on with his slumbers. Washington Hawkins had seen the act, but was not near enough at hand to save his friend, and no one who was near enough desired to spoil the effect. But a neighbor stirred up the Colonel, now that the House had its eye upon him, and the great speculator furled his tent like the Arab. He said:
“Bless my soul, I’m so absentminded when I get to thinking! I never wear an umbrella in the house — did anybody ‘notice it’? What-asleep? Indeed? And did you wake me sir? Thank you — thank you very much indeed. It might have fallen out of my hands and been injured. Admirable article, sir — present from a friend in Hong Kong; one doesn’t come across silk like that in this country — it’s the real — Young Hyson, I’m told.”
By this time the incident was forgotten, for the House was at war again. Victory was almost in sight, now, and the friends of the bill threw themselves into their work with enthusiasm. They soon moved and carried its second reading, and after a strong, sharp fight, carried a motion to go into Committee of the whole. The Speaker left his place, of course, and a chairman was appointed.
Now the contest raged hotter than ever — for the authority that compels order when the House sits as a House, is greatly diminished when it sits as Committee. The main fight came upon the filling of the blanks with the sum to be appropriated for the purchase of the land, of course.
Buckstone — ”Mr. Chairman, I move you, sir, that the words ‘three millions of’ be inserted.”
Mr. Hadley — ”Mr. Chairman, I move that the words two and a half dollars be inserted.”
Mr. Clawson — ”Mr. Chairman, I move the insertion of the words five and twenty cents, as representing the true value of this barren and isolated tract of desolation.”
The question, according to rule, was taken upon the smallest sum first. It was lost.
Then upon the next smallest sum. Lost, also.
And then upon the three millions. After a vigorous battle that lasted a considerable time, this motion was carried.
Then, clause by clause the bill was read, discussed, and amended in trifling particulars, and now the Committee rose and reported.
The moment the House had resumed its functions and received the report, Mr. Buckstone moved and carried the third reading of the bill.
The
