I’ve said something I find fascinating in the Progressive Era is its feel of being contemporary. The piece I share today, A Candidate’s Pillory, is a strong demonstration of this. The candidate here is “Big” Bill McKinley, hoping to be the first Republican re-elected since Ulysses S Grant, and talk about hoop-skirts might be silly in a way that isn’t understood today.
“Thrimmer” here is eye-dialect for “trimmer”, as in a person who keeps trimming his sails to steer between the two parties. We still have people like that, and whether you dislike or like them tells you whether they’re unprincipled or free of dogma. Also check out the reference to hoboes when that was not just something from old-timey movies and the comic strip Henry.
“What’s this counthry comin’ to, annyhow, that a man that’s out f’r to be Prisident has to set up on a high chair an’ be questioned on his record be a lot iv la-ads that hasn’t had annything to do since th’ carpetbeatin’ season’s ended? “said Mr Dooley. “Ye’d think Big Bill was r-runnin’ f’r chief ex-icutive iv th’ Clan-na-Gael. First along comes a comity iv th’ Sons iv Rest. ‘Major,’ says they, ‘we’re insthructed be th’ organization to ascertain ye’er views on th’ important, we may say all-important, question iv havin’ wire matthresses put on th’ benches in th’ parks. Are we,’ they says, ‘goin’ f’r to have to wear lumps on our backs into all eternity,’ they says, ‘an’ have our slumbers broke be th’ hot fut iv th’ polisman?’ they says. ‘We demand an answer,’ they says, ‘or, be this an’ be that, we won’t do a thing to ye.’ Well, maybe Bill has been down to th’ corner playin’ a game iv spoil-five with his old frind Coalsack, an’ has paid no attintion to th’ Sons iv Rest. ‘Well,’ he says, ‘gintlemen, I’m in favor iv doin’ ivrything in reason f’r th’ hoboes,’ he says. ‘Th’ protection iv th’ home hobo again th’ pauper can trade iv Europe,’ he says, ‘has been wan iv th’ principal wurruks iv me life,’ he says; an’ he gives thim each a hand out, an’ bows thim to th’ dure.
“In comes a dillygation fr’m th’ Union iv Amalgamated Pantsmakers; an’ says th’ chairman, ‘Major,’ he says, ‘we have a complaint to make again thim pants iv ye’ers,’ he says. ‘What’s th’ matter with th’ pants?’ says th’ future Prisident. ‘I thought they looked all right,’ he says. ‘I paid four dollars f’r thim in Bucyrus las’ year,’ he says. ‘They have no union label on thim,’ says th’ chairman. ‘Do you know, sir,’ he says, ‘that thim pants riprisints th’ oppression iv women an’ childher?’ he says. ‘D’ye know that ivry thread in thim seams means a tear an’ sigh?’ says he. ‘D’ye know that ivry time ye put on thim pants ye take a pair off some down-throdden workman?’ he says. ‘Glory be!’ says Big Bill: ‘is that thrue? Thin what am I to do?’ he says in alarm. ‘Do?’ says th’ chairman. ‘Wear pants that riprisints honest toil fairly compinsated,’ he says. ‘Wear pants that ‘ll say to th’ wurruld that Bill McKinley’s legs are fair legs;’ he says, ‘that they may bow at th’ knees, but they niver bow to th’ opprissor,’ he says; ‘that niver did they wrap thimsilves in bags that bore th’ curse iv monno-poly an’ greed,’ he says. ‘An’ where can I get thim?’ says th’ major, ‘Fr’m me,’ says th’ frind iv labor, pullin’ out a tape. ‘Will ye have wan or two hip pockets?’ he says.
“An’ so it goes. Ivry day a rayporther comes to th’ house with a list iv questions. ‘What are ye’er views on th’ issue iv eatin’ custard pie with a sponge? Do ye believe in side-combs? If called upon to veto a bill f’r all mimbers iv th’ Supreme Coort to wear hoop-skirts, wud ye veto it or wudden’t ye? If so, why? If not, why not? If a batted ball goes out iv th’ line afther strikin’ th’ player’s hands, is it fair or who? Have ye that tired feelin’? What is your opinion iv a hereafther? Where did you get that hat? If a man has eight dollars an’ spends twelve iv it, what will th’ poor man do? An’ why an’ where an’ how much?’
“Thin, if he don’t answer, ivry wan says he’s a thrimmer, an’ ought to be runnin’ a sthreet-car an’ not thryin’ to poke his ondecided face into th’ White House. I mind wanst, whin me frind O’Brien was a candydate f’r aldherman, a comity iv tax-payers waited on him f’r to get his views on th’ issues iv th’ day. Big Casey, th’ housemover, was th’ chairman; an’ he says, says he, ‘Misther O’Brien,’ he says, ‘we are desirous,’ he says, ‘iv larnin’ where ye stand on th’ tariff, th’ currency question, pensions, an’ th’ intherstate commerce act,’ he says, with a wave iv his hand. ‘Well,’ says O’Brien, he says, ‘th’ issue on which I’m appealin’ to th’ free an’ intilligent suffrages of Ar-rchey Road an’ th’ assistance iv Deerin’ Sthreet Station,’ he says, ‘is whether little Mike Kelly will have th’ bridge or not,’ he says. ‘On that I stand,’ he says. ‘As f’r th’ minor issues,’ he says, ‘I may have me opinions on thim an’ I may not. Anny information I possess I’ll keep tucked away in this large an’ commodjous mind cage, an’ not be dealin’ it out to th’ likes iv ye, as though I was a comity iv th’ Civic Featheration,’ he says. ‘Moreover,’ he says, ‘I’d like to know, you, Casey, what business have you got comin’ roun’ to my house and pryin’ into my domestic affairs,’ he says. ”Tis th’ intherstate commerce act now, but th’ nex’ thing ‘ll be where I got th’ pianny,’ he says; ‘an’, f’r fear ye may not stop where ye are, here goes to mount ye.’ An’ he climbed th’ big man, an’ rolled him. Well, sir will ye believe me, ivry man on th’ comity but wan voted f’r him. Casey was still in bed iliction day.
“I met Tom Dorsey afther th’ comity called. ‘Well,’ says I, ‘I heerd ye was up to O’Brien’s questionin’ him on th’ issues iv th’ day,’ I says. ‘We was,’ says he. ‘Was his answers satisfacthry?’ says I. ‘Perfectly so,’ he says. ‘Whin th’ comity left, we were all convinced that he was th’ strongest man that cud be nommynated,’ he says.”
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