CHAPTER XLV.
THE BOSS.
After this statement, so satisfying to both, Leonore recovered herdignity enough to rise, and say, "Now, I want to pay you for yourniceness. What do you wish to do?"
"Suppose we do what pleases you."
"No. I want to please you."
"That _is_ the way to please me," said Peter emphatically.
Just then a clock struck four. "I know," said Leonore. "Come to thetea-table, and we'll have afternoon tea together. It's the day of allothers for afternoon tea."
"I just said it was a glorious day."
"Oh? yes. It's a nice day. But it's dark and cold and rainy all thesame."
"But that makes it all the better. We shan't be interrupted."
"Do you know," said Leonore, "that Miss De Voe told me once that youwere a man who found good in everything, and I see what she meant."
"I can't hold a candle to Dennis. He says its 'a foine day' so that youfeel that it really is. I never saw him in my life, when it wasn't 'afoine day.' I tell him he carries his sunshine round in his heart."
"You are so different," said Leonore, "from what every one said. I neverknew a man pay such nice compliments. That's the seventh I've heard youmake."
"You know I'm a politician, and want to become popular."
"Oh, Peter! Will you let me ask you something?"
"Anything," said Peter, rashly, though speaking the absolute truth.Peter just then was willing to promise anything. Perhaps it was the warmcup of tea; perhaps it was the blazing logs; perhaps it was the shade ofthe lamp, which cast such a pleasant rosy tint over everything; perhapsit was the comfortable chair; perhaps it was that charming face;perhaps it was what Mr. Mantalini called the "demd total."
"You see," said Leonore, shaking her head in a puzzled way, "I've begunto read the papers--the political part, I mean--and there are so manythings I don't understand which I want to ask you to explain."
"That is very nice," said Peter, "because there are a great many thingsof which I want to tell you."
"Goody!" said Leonore, forgetting again she was now bound to conductherself as befit a society girl. "And you'll not laugh at me if I askfoolish questions?"
"No."
"Then what do the papers mean by calling you a boss?"
"That I am supposed to have sufficient political power to dictate to acertain extent."
"But don't they speak of a boss as something not nice?" asked Leonore, alittle timidly, as if afraid of hurting Peter's feelings.
"Usually it is used as a stigma," said Peter, smiling. "At least by thekind of papers you probably read."
"But you are not a bad boss, are you?" said Leonore, very earnestly.
"Some of the papers say so."
"That's what surprised me. Of course I knew they were wrong, but arebosses bad, and are you a boss?"
"You are asking me one of the biggest questions in American politics. Iprobably can't answer it, but I'll try to show you why I can't. Arethere not friends whose advice or wish would influence you?"
"Yes. Like you," said Leonore, giving Peter a glimpse of her eyes.
"Really," thought Peter, "if she does that often, I can't talk abstractpolitics." Then he rallied and said: "Well, that is the condition of menas well, and it is that condition, which creates the so-called boss. Inevery community there are men who influence more or less the rest. Itmay be that one can only influence half a dozen other intimates. Anothermay exert power over fifty. A third may sway a thousand. One may do itby mere physical superiority. Another by a friendly manner. A third bybeing better informed. A fourth by a deception or bribery. A fifth byhonesty. Each has something that dominates the weaker men about him.Take my ward. Burton is a prize-fighter, and physically a splendid man.So he has his little court. Driscoll is a humorist, and can talk, and hehas his admirers. Sloftky is popular with the Jews, because he is oftheir race. Burrows is a policeman, who is liked by the whole ward,because of his kindness and good-nature. So I could go on telling you ofmen who are a little more marked than the rest, who have power toinfluence the opinions of men about them, and therefore have power toinfluence votes. That is the first step in the ladder."
"But isn't Mr. Moriarty one?"
"He comes in the next grade. Each of the men I have mentioned canusually affect an average of twenty-five votes. But now we get toanother rung of the ladder. Here we have Dennis, and such men asBlunkers, Denton, Kennedy, Schlurger and others. They not merely havetheir own set of followers, but they have more or less power to dominatethe little bosses of whom I have already spoken. Take Dennis forinstance. He has fifty adherents who stick to him absolutely, twohundred and fifty who listen to him with interest, and a dozen of thesmaller bosses, who pass his opinions to their followers. So he can thushave some effect on about five hundred votes. Of course it takes moreforce and popularity to do this and in this way we have a better gradeof men."
"Yes. I like Mr. Moriarty, and can understand why others do. He is sougly, and so honest, and so jolly. He's lovely."
"Then we get another grade. Usually men of a good deal of brain force,though not of necessity well educated. They influence all below them bybeing better informed, and by being more far-seeing. Such men asGallagher and Dummer. They, too, are usually in politics for a living,and so can take the trouble to work for ends for which the men withother work have no time. They don't need the great personal popularityof those I have just mentioned, but they need far more skill and brain.Now you can see, that these last, in order to carry out theirintentions, must meet and try to arrange to pull together, for otherwisethey can do nothing. Naturally, in a dozen or twenty men, there will begrades, and very often a single man will be able to dominate them all,just as the smaller bosses dominate the smaller men. And this man thepapers call a boss of a ward. Then when these various ward bossesendeavor to unite for general purposes, the strongest man will swaythem, and he is boss of the city."
"And that is what you are?"
"Yes. By that I mean that nothing is attempted in the ward or citywithout consultation with me. But of course I am more dependent on thevoters than they are on me, for if they choose to do differently fromwhat I advise, they have the power, while I am helpless."
"You mean the smaller bosses?"
"Not so much them as the actual voters. A few times I have shot rightover the heads of the bosses and appealed directly to the voters."
"Then you can make them do what you want?"
"Within limits, yes. As I told you, I am absolutely dependent on thevoters. If they should defeat what I want three times running, every onewould laugh at me, and my power would be gone. So you see that a boss isonly a boss so long as he can influence votes."
"But they haven't defeated you?"
"No, not yet."
"But if the voters took their opinions from the other bosses how did youdo anything?"
"There comes in the problem of practical politics. The question of whocan affect the voters most. Take my own ward. Suppose that I wantsomething done so much that I insist. And suppose that some of the otherleaders are equally determined that it shan't be done. The ward splitson the question and each faction tries to gain control in the primary.When I have had to interfere, I go right down among the voters and tellthem why and what I want to do. Then the men I have had to antagonize dothe same, and the voters decide between us. It then is a question as towhich side can win the majority of the voters. Because I have been verysuccessful in this, I am the so-called boss. That is, I can make thevoters feel that I am right."
"How?"
"For many reasons. First, I have always tried to tell the voters thetruth, and never have been afraid to acknowledge I was wrong, when Ifound I had made a mistake, so people trust what I say. Then, unlikemost of the leaders in politics, I am not trying to get myself office orprofit, and so the men feel that I am disinterested. Then I try to befriendly with the whole ward, so that if I have to do what they don'tlike, their personal feeling for me will do what my ar
guments nevercould. With these simple, strong-feeling, and unreasoning folk, one canget ten times the influence by a warm handshake and word that one can bya logical argument. We are so used to believing what we read, if itseems reasonable, that it is hard for us to understand that men whospell out editorials with difficulty, and who have not been trained toreason from facts, are not swayed by what to us seems an obviousargument. But, on the contrary, if a man they trust, puts it in plainlanguage to them, they see it at once. I might write a carefuleditorial, and ask my ward to read it, and unless they knew I wrote it,they probably wouldn't be convinced in the least. But let me go into thesaloons, and tell the men just the same thing, and there isn't a man whowouldn't be influenced by it."
"You are so popular in the ward?" asked Leonore.
"I think so, I find kind words and welcome everywhere. But then I havetried very hard to be popular. I have endeavored to make a friend ofevery man in it with whom one could be friendly, because I wished to beas powerful as possible, so that the men would side with me whenever Iput my foot down on something wrong."
"Do you ever tell the ward how they are to vote?"
"I tell them my views. But never how to vote. Once I came very near it,though."
"How was that?"
"I was laid up for eight months by my eyes, part of the time in Paris.The primary in the meantime had put up a pretty poor man for an office.A fellow who had been sentenced for murder, but had been pardoned bypolitical influence. When I was able to take a hand, I felt that I coulddo better by interfering, so I came out for the Republican candidate,who was a really fine fellow. I tried to see and talk to every man inthe ward, and on election day I asked a good many men, as a personalfavor, to vote for the Republican, and my friends asked others. EvenDennis Moriarty worked and voted for what he calls a 'dirty Republican,'though he said 'he never thought he'd soil his hands wid one av theirballots.' That is the nearest I ever came to telling them how to vote."
"And did they do as you asked?"
"The only Republican the ward has chosen since 1862 was elected in thatyear. It was a great surprise to every one--even to myself--for the wardis Democratic by about four thousand majority. But I couldn't do thatsort of thing often, for the men wouldn't stand it. In other words, Ican only do what I want myself, by doing enough else that the men wish.That is, the more I can do to please the men, the more they yield theiropinions to mine."
"Then the bosses really can't do what they want?"
"No. Or at least not for long. That is a newspaper fallacy. A relic ofthe old idea that great things are done by one-man power. If you will goover the men who are said to control--the bosses, as they are called--inthis city, you will find that they all have worked their way intoinfluence slowly, and have been many years kept in power, though theycould be turned out in a single fight. Yet this power is obtained onlyby the wish of a majority, for the day they lose the consent of amajority of the voters that day their power ends. We are really moredependent than the representatives, for they are elected for a certaintime, while our tenure can be ended at any moment. Why am I a power inmy ward? Because I am supposed to represent a given number of votes,which are influenced by my opinions. It would be perfectly immaterial tomy importance how I influenced those votes, so long as I could controlthem. But because I can influence them, the other leaders don't dare toantagonize me, and so I can have my way up to a certain point. Andbecause I can control the ward I have made it a great power in citypolitics."
"How did you do that?"
"By keeping down the factional feeling. You see there are always moremen struggling for power or office, than can have it, and so therecannot but be bad blood between the contestants. For instance, when Ifirst became interested in politics, Moriarty and Blunkers were quite asanxious to down each other as to down the Republicans. Now they aresworn friends, made so in this case, by mere personal liking for me.Some have been quieted in this way. Others by being held in check. Stillothers by different means. Each man has to be studied and understood,and the particular course taken which seems best in his particular case.But I succeeded even with some who were pretty bitter antagonists atfirst, and from being one of the most uncertain wards in the city, thesixth has been known at headquarters for the last five years as 'oldreliability' from the big majority it always polls. So at headquarters Iam looked up to and consulted. Now do you understand why and what a bossis?"
"Yes, Peter. Except why bosses are bad."
"Don't you see that it depends on what kind of men they are, and whatkind of voters are back of them. A good man, with honest votes back ofhim, is a good boss, and _vice versa_."
"Then I know you are a good boss. It's a great pity that all the bossescan't be good?"
"I have not found them so bad. They are quite as honest, unselfish, andreasonable as the average of mankind. Now and then there is a bad man,as there is likely to be anywhere. But in my whole political career, Ihave never known a man who could control a thousand votes for fiveyears, who was not a better man, all in all, than the voters whom heinfluenced. More one cannot expect. The people are not quick, but theyfind out a knave or a demagogue if you give them time."
"It's the old saying; 'you can fool all of the people, some of the time,and some of the people all of the time, but you can't fool all of thepeople all of the time,'" laughed a voice.
Peter took his eyes off Leonore's face, where they had been restingrestfully, and glanced up. Watts had entered the room.
"Go on," said Watts. "Don't let me interrupt your politicaldisquisitions; I have only come in for a cup of tea."
"Miss D'Alloi and I were merely discussing bosses," said Peter. "MissD'Alloi, when women get the ballot, as I hope they will, I trust youwill be a good boss, for I am sure you will influence a great manyvotes."
"Oh!" said Leonore, laughing, "I shan't be a boss at all. You'll be myboss, I think, and I'll always vote for you."
Peter thought the day even more glorious than he had before.