Thompson, the proprietor, was a sour-visaged man, tall and lanky
and evidently a dyspeptic. Having been beaten by Hopkins at the last
election, when he ran against him on the Republican ticket, Thompson had
no desire to see Forbes more successful than he had been himself. And
there were other reasons that made it necessary for him to support
Hopkins.
So he was both gruff and disagreeable when Patsy, after buying a lot of
ribbons of him, broached the subject of politics. He told her plainly
that her cousin hadn't a "ghost of a show," and that he was glad of it.
"The young fool had no business to monkey with politics," he added, "and
this will teach him to keep his fingers out of someone else's pie."
"It isn't Mr. Hopkins's pie," declared Patsy, stoutly. "It belongs to
whoever gets the votes."
"Well, that's Hopkins. He knows the game, and Forbes don't."
"Can't he learn?" asked the girl.
"No. He's an idiot. Always was a crank and an unsociable cuss when a
boy, and he's worse now he's grown up. Oh, I know Forbes, all right; and
I haven't got no use for him, neither."
Argument was useless in this case. The girl sighed, gathered up her
purchases, and went into the hardware store.
Immediately her spirits rose.
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