"
"But you yourself and grandfather have been saying all along that
he--" began Harlan.
"We say a lot of things in politics," broke in the chairman, testily.
"But it's only the final round-up that counts. And be prepared for
sudden changes, as the almanac says! I tell you, I don't know anything
about this Spinney rumor--nor I don't care. But it's probably true.
Everett has got pledged delegates enough to nominate him by
acclamation."
"But last night--" persisted Harlan.
His grandfather interrupted this time.
"Don't you remember that old Brad Dunham wrote to New York one spring
and asked a commission man if he would take a million frogs' legs?
Commission man wrote that he'd take a hundred pairs; and the best old
Brad could do, after wading in the swamp back of his house all day, was
to get a dozen. Wrote to the commission man that he'd been estimating
his frogs by sound and thought he had a million. That's been the way
with Spinney and his delegates, Harlan."
Mrs. Presson took advantage of the merriment to change the subject from
politics.
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