Chit-Chat; Nirvana; The Searchlight - Part 11
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Part 11

The morning of his departure, glancing through the personals--a suspicious act, as it was rather unusual for him--he read of his departure after a brief visit, and at the head of the column that Mr.

and Mrs. Harrison Durrett announced the engagement of their daughter, Dorothy, to Mr. Howard Bradford, of Pittsburgh.

CHAPTER IX.

THE SAYLOR FAMILY.

While Cornwall prospered financially and established an enviable reputation as a lawyer, fortune did not overlook the Saylor family.

Old man Saylor and his wife were thrifty souls. Though their farm, with its fine colonial dwelling, was one of the best in their end of the county, they had never been given the opportunity to entertain extensively or had occasion to maintain a stylish and expensive establishment.

Mary's four years at Wellesley had cost about four thousand five hundred dollars. This outlay old man Saylor would never have consented to, looking upon it as an absolute waste of good money, except that he gave Mary as much credit for his acquittal of the Spencer killing as he did John. He had the money to spare, having each year cleared more than that sum on his tobacco and speculations in the mule market.

He was a great judge of mules. Bradley Clay said when a mule colt was foaled Saylor could look at it and tell within five pounds of its weight as a four-year-old.

Caleb had been sent to Lexington to school. He remained during the fall term and until after the spring races. Then he returned home, having been expelled because every day he had attended the races and bet on the horses. It was even said that he had procured a jockey to throw a stake race. He announced that he had finally quit school, which he argued was a waste of time, as he intended to practice law and enter politics.

He was the owner of a fine saddle mare and a gelding that could trot a mile on the smooth turnpike to a light side-bar buggy in 2:45. Either riding the one or driving the other he attended all the farm auctions; nor did he ever miss a county court day or jury trial at either Richmond or Lancaster. At these trials he first sat back of the railing; then, making friends with the sheriff, the clerk and the younger lawyers, he sat within the reservation for members of the bar. The sheriff and clerk had each offered to appoint him a deputy, but these honors he declined with thanks. When he was twenty-one he was more than six feet tall, weighed a hundred and seventy and, as the sheriff said, was the hustlingest politician in the county. He had been voting for several years.

Though his folks were Republicans, and had been since the Civil War, he deemed it a political mistake to vote that ticket in a Democratic county. At an early age he began voting and working in the Democratic primaries and soon acquired considerable influence with farm laborers and tenant-farmers, the men who usually do the voting in country primaries.

One summer morning (he was not yet twenty-four) he told his father he was going to put one over on old man Chenault and beat him for the Legislature. Colonel Chenault was a native of the county; he had been a lieutenant in the Confederate army, was a rich farmer and, it was generally supposed, would have no opposition for re-election.

Caleb began riding over the county, telling the tenant-farmers and laborers that they should send from a farming community a representative who was a laboring man like themselves, instead of a land-grabbing "Colonel," a man who thought himself better than anybody else. "Has Colonel Chenault or his wife or his daughters ever been in your house?

You see them often at the house on the hill. Did he ever speak to or shake hands with you? Yes, when he was a candidate for the Legislature; then he wipes his hand on the seat of his pants."

"That's right; I never thought about that; but who'll we run?"

"You run."

"Oh, I ain't got no education much; I've got to harvest this crop."

"Well, we'll find somebody, even if I have to run to beat the d.a.m.n aristocrat. You keep still about it, but be sure and come to the convention at the court house next Sat.u.r.day at two o'clock."

"Oh, I'll do that; so long."

Colonel Chenault, with about twenty of his friends, all of whom were good judges of horses, whiskey and tobacco, and who could tell a pair of deuces from a full hand, came rather late to the convention, not having the least intimation of opposition.

They were surprised to find the court room filled with farmers and men of the hills, from the eastern side of the county. This gathering the Colonel appropriated as evidence of his popularity and as a spontaneous endors.e.m.e.nt for his renomination. Obsessed with this thought, he strutted up the aisle like a pouter pigeon.

The temporary chairman of the meeting, Chesley Chilton, who expected to be nominated for sheriff the following year, and who saw that a surprise was about to be sprung on the Colonel, called Caleb to one side and asked the cause of the gathering.

"Oh, you stand by us and we'll help you out next year. I know what you want. Chenault is a dead one and don't know it. We are after his scalp.

Here he comes with his collection of fossils; time's up; call the convention to order."

Caleb moved that the temporary be made the permanent chairman; this was done without opposition. Then a secretary and three tellers were chosen--all friends of Caleb's. One of Colonel Chenault's friends complained that all this was a waste of time, as the Colonel had no opposition.

Then the chairman called for nominations and Colonel Chenault was pompously nominated by Colonel Shackelford, who closed his remarks by moving that nominations close and the Colonel be unanimously declared the nominee.

At this suggestion there was a stentorian clamour of noes. In the midst of the uproar Webster James, a candidate for county attorney, who had the promise of Caleb's support and an understanding with him, rose and was recognized by the chairman.

"Mr. Chairman: I have always felt that office should come unsought; should seek the man. I know not how many appreciate the special fitness of the young man whose name I am about to present to the democracy of this county, suggesting his nomination from this the Seventy-second Legislative District. I know he will be surprised when he hears his name, but this great gathering is in his honor and he must regard the call as one to duty and service, which, though it comes unsought, can not be disregarded. The office seeks the man and it is tendered by his fellow-citizens. I have the honor to nominate Hon. Caleb Saylor, of the Paint Lick precinct."

At the mention of Saylor's name and the resounding cheers which greeted it, Colonel Chenault nearly collapsed with surprise and indignation.

He turned to Colonel Shackelford, saying: "I am beaten and by that mountain upstart. I would not let him in my front door."

The chairman directed that those favoring Colonel Chenault should gather on the right side of the center aisle, while those favoring Hon. Caleb Saylor should gather on the left, so they might be counted without confusion by the tellers.

This was quickly done. Though it was midsummer, the Chenault men gathered about the court-house stove.

In ten minutes the vote was counted and reported by the tellers. The secretary announced the vote:

Colonel Hamilton Chenault 23 Hon. Caleb Saylor 217

Whereupon the Colonel marched out, followed by a mere squad, and, there being no other business, the convention adjourned.

At the following November election Caleb Saylor beat his Republican opponent by more than three hundred majority.

On the first day of January, several days before the Legislature was to convene, he came to Frankfort, desiring to be on hand for all party caucuses. He soon became a familiar figure around the hotel lobby and the corridors of the Capitol.

He made it a point to meet all State officials and every prominent politician, Democrat or Republican, who visited the Capitol. When the lower house was not in session and the Court of Appeals was, he attended its sessions and sat within the s.p.a.ce reserved for attorneys. He and Judge Singer, whose judicial ear was attuned to the hum of the gubernatorial bee, became great friends. As a member of the Judiciary Committee he supported a pending bill allowing to each judge of the court a stenographer, and helped through the committee other bills that Judge Singer and the several members of the court favored.

Having procured the necessary certificate of good character, he made application for admission to the bar and was given an examination by Judges Grinder, Singer and Dobson.

Among certain questions propounded by the court and all of which he answered--he always had an answer ready--were the following:

"Mr. Saylor, define the difference between real and personal property."

"If I had a hundred dollars in my pocket, that would be real property; if I had your note for a hundred, that would be personal property."

"When, in a criminal trial, is the defendant declared to have been placed in jeopardy?"

"When he acts like a jeopard."

"Do you deem yourself qualified to render valuable and efficient a.s.sistance to a client or to appear as amicus curiae?"

"Yes, sir; especially in the trial of a jury case; but he's had more experience that I have; he's now a.s.sistant city attorney of Louisville."

"Where do you get that idea?"

"Judge Dobson, that is what this court says in the case of Ewald Iron Company against The Commonwealth, 140 Ky. 692: 'Clayton B. Blakey and Amicus Curiae, attorneys for the City of Louisville.'"