"
"How was that?" asked Quincy.
"Well, you see," said Hiram, "two or three days before town meetin'
Wallace went up to Boston. He got an oyster stew for dinner, and it made
him kinder sick, and some one gave him a drink of brandy, and I guess
they gave him a pretty good dose, for when he got to Eastborough Centre
they had to help him off the train, 'cause his legs were kinder weak.
Well, 'Bias Smith, who lives over to West Eastborough, he is the best
talker we've got in town meetin'. He took up the cudgels for Wallace,
and he just lammed into those mean cusses who'd go back on a man 'cause
he was sick and took a little too much medicine. But Abner Stiles,--you
know Abner,--well, he's the next best talker to 'Bias Smith,--he stood
up and said he didn't think it was safe to trust the town's money to a
man who couldn't go to Boston and come home sober, and that pulled over
some of the fellers who'd agreed to vote for Wallace."
"Has the tax collector performed his duties satisfactorily?" asked
Quincy.
"Well," said Hiram, "Wallace Stackpole told me the other day that he
hadn't got in more than two-thirds of last year's taxes.
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