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Day, Holman (Holman Francis), 1865-1935

"The Ramrodders A Novel"


But Vard picked up his pen and told us he wasn't much of a hand for
playing practical jokes on the people. He signed it. And he was a
license man, at that, those days. Guess he is now."
"I don't see how you can say he has played politics--not after he stood
out like that."
Thelismer Thornton laughed silently. They were half-way up the long
hill. The bland morning was already growing warm. The old man stopped
for a moment, hat off, under a dewy maple.
"Bub, do you think Vard Waymouth, lawyer that he is, didn't know just
about how much that act would amount to after it got to operating? About
all it did was to proclaim the rum business contraband. No teeth, no
claws, not much machinery for enforcement--and public sentiment cussing
it, after it began to hit men individually. Reform in politics is
popular just so long as it doesn't hit individuals."
"There's teeth enough in the law _now_", remarked Harlan.
"Oh, it's easier to put 'em in than it is to fight the mouths of the
professional ramrodders who come down to the legislature.


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