When he went forth to his place of business he saw the crowds hurrying
to and fro; there were banners flying across the streets, huge placards
were on the walls, and he heard all about him the bustle of the great
election.
"Friend Ivison," said a red-faced lawyer, almost breathless with his
hurry, "more money is needed in the second ward; our committees are
doing a great work there. What shall I put you down for? Fifty
dollars? If we carry the election, your property will rise twenty per
cent. Let me see; you are in the iron business, I think?"
Aminadab thought of the little iron soldier of his dream, and excused
himself. Presently a bank director came tearing into his office.
"Have you voted yet, Mr. Ivison? It 's time to get your vote in. I
wonder you should be in your office now. No business has so much at
stake in this election as yours."
"I don't think I should feel entirely easy to vote for the candidate,"
said Aminadab.
"Mr. Ivison," said the bank director, "I always took you to be a shrewd,
sensible man, taking men and things as they are. The candidate may not
be all you could wish for; but when the question is between him and a
worse man, the best you can do is to choose the least of the two evils."
"Just so the little iron man said," thought Aminadab.
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