It was
the off year for the national campaign. No money came into the State
from the Big Fellows.
The State Committee was looked to by the county and town committees to
start the ball rolling and guarantee the purse to push it. "The People"
were, as usual, too busy getting daily bread to be spontaneous in
political movements.
General Waymouth sat in the old brick house in Burnside village, and did
the best he could during the long hot days of July and the sultry first
fortnight of August. Harlan Thornton worked with him. The library
resounded with the click of typewriters, and men came and men went. But
there was no up-and-moving spirit to the campaign.
An old man writing letters--even such an old man as General Varden
Waymouth was in the estimation of his State--is a small voice in the
wilderness of politics.
The Democrats had vociferous orators. Those orators had for text State
extravagance, unjust taxation, and all the other charges "the unders"
may bring against the reigning rulers. They were not answered on the
stump.
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