And Ben was right. Before nine o'clock that morning the bank had more calls for money than it had had in any previous day of its existence; and it had queerer things offered for security than ever before (which is saying a great deal), from Billy Plumtre's recipe for educating rabbits, to the Corson boys' discovery of a fox's den in the woods; and Tobias felt obliged to nudge Ben's elbow continually to prevent him from accepting doubtful securities; for Ben was so elated with the renewed demands upon the bank as to be a little reckless. More than a little reckless he thought he had been, when, before noon, he discovered that there was only a dollar left in the bank! And just as he made the discovery, Derry Burroughs appeared, and wished to withdraw his deposit of a dollar and a half to take his sister and his cousin to the circus! And although Ben assured him that he would lose his whole quarter's interest by withdrawing the money then, Derry stood firm, and Ben handed him the dollar, making an apology for the half-dollar, though he tried not to reveal that the bank vaults- that is, the coffeecanister and the cake-box-were empty. But Derry was shrewd enough to understand the real state of the case, and it soon became apparent that he had not kept his discovery to himself. The depositors began to come in hot haste, by ones and by twos and by threes, all demanding their money! Ben turned pale as he realized the awful fact that there was a run on the bank! He closed and fastened the door against the angry crowd, and spoke to them through the window. They thought this might be only an excuse to get rid of them, but yet their faith in Ben was not wholly lost. "I should like to know what you can do at five o'clock more 'n you can now," said Tobias, whose face was now fairly "I HAVE COME FOR MY MONEY." tied up into a hard knot with anxiety. "You can't get the money." "But I'm going to try," said Ben. "I'm going to see Uncle Amri." "You might as well tap an elm-tree for sap as try to get money out of him," said Tobias gloomily. Ben himself had great doubts of his success. Uncle Amri was noted for being "close-fisted," but he had always been kind to Ben, and seemed to take an interest in him, and Ben thought it was worth while to try. Just as he was setting out, Kitty Malcolm appeared at the bank. She looked very bright and smiling and apparently had heard nothing of the run. "Perhaps she had come to deposit more money!" thought Ben, with rising hope. But her first words caused his hope to sink "Your money is all safe, and you shall have it again. as soon as I can get it," he said. But this did not pacify them. There were angry growls and hisses, and even a cry of "swindler!" from some of the boys whom Ben had called his friends; and he was cut to the heart. "You knew just how I was going to manage, and it's all lent on good security," he said. "You said we could have it back at any time," cried a voice. "I did n't suppose it would ever be all borrowed, and I did n't suppose you would be mean enough to come after it all at once," said Ben. "It's our money, and we want it!" shouted a determined voice. And there stood Mary Jane Pemberly on the edge of the crowd, weeping bitterly; that made Ben feel like a scoundrel. "I'll do the best I can," said he. this afternoon at five, and I'll see done towards paying everybody." "Come here what can be "I have come for my money!- never mind about the interest!" said Kitty. "I am going to have my pony! Uncle Harry is going to add enough to my eleven dollars to buy one that the circus people have for sale. And Dick wants his money, too. I don't like to hurt your feelings, Ben, but Papa says he thinks that banking is hardly a business for boys; he is surprised that you should be in it, and he does n't care to have us have anything to do with it." Ben thought that was the very worst moment he ever could have in his life. Kitty's bright face clouded sadly when Ben had to tell her that he could not return her money, but she was very good about it. She said if he could get it that afternoon, it would be just as well as then, and if he could n't- well, some other time would do; "perhaps, after all, the pony night not be as pretty as it was represented to be." Ben did n't let any grass grow under his feet on The crowd slowly and reluctantly dispersed. the way to Uncle Amri's. to think the bank was of any consequence! said he could n't let us have the place for a play house any longer!" In silence Ben pushed open the door of the late bank. From a corner the cross gander hissed He found the old man sitting on the fence of his back-yard, observing with satisfaction the growth of his mammoth pumpkins, and Ben poured forth the story of his troubles the more impetuously because it was so unpleasant to tell. "Bank's bu'sted, has it?" said Uncle Amri, with defiance at him, and, perched upon the desk, the a grim chuckle. pert little bantam rooster crowed shrilly, as if in triumph over the downfall of the great financial scheme. Ben felt that the word was very objectionable, and the chuckle could scarcely be understood to express sympathy; but there was an expression in the keen blue eyes that looked out of Uncle Amri's weather-beaten, baked-apple-like face which emboldened Ben to proffer his request. Uncle Amri's first remarks were not encouraging. He told Ben that if he expected to get his money back in any way from all those borrowers, he was a simpleton; and he entered upon quite a long conversation, in which Ben, leaning shamefacedly against the post of the kitchen steps, had to endure a great many uncomplimentary remarks. But at the close of his "leetle lecture," as Uncle Amri called it, he did lend to his downcast nephew the money he sought, with the agreement that Ben was to work for all that he could not repay in cash. Ben hated farm-work, and he knew that Uncle Amri would exact full measure; but he was so relieved to have the money in his pocket that he thought he should not find it a hardship to work it all out if he had to. "You'd better settle up your business and quit it," said Uncle Amri, as Ben left him. "Tradin' in money is risky business, and not fit for boys; and, anyhow, folks that gets or gives more 'n a fair price for anything are apt to come to grief in the long run!" Ben meditated very seriously over Uncle Amri's advice, and Kitty Malcolm's remark that her father thought "banking was hardly a business for boys," rankled in his mind; but he believed that he should get most, if not all, of the money back, and he did want to show people that the bank could go on! He had not decided what to do when he came in sight of home. Tobias came limping to meet him. "What do you think father 's been doing?" he cried. "He's had Si Gilmore up to fix the new hen-house over into a granary, and he 's moved the hens into the old workshop! He did n't seem But, after all, Ben felt a little relief. This was a good reason why the bank should close, and everybody would know it. "Uncle Amri has lent me enough money to pay every one, Tobias!" he said exultantly, drawing from the desk the books of the firm an old copy-book and a double slate — and reading the names of the depositors. Tobias drew himself up very erect, and looked very pale. "Where's my dollar 'n' nineteen cents?" he said, in an awful voice. "I'll tell you what, Ben," he said at length. "You get me a dozen of Uncle Amri's white turkeys' eggs, and I'll call it square. I've made up my mind to go into the turkey business; it may be risky, but it's safer than banking, and not so worrying." The depositors all came and got their money that afternoon, and went away feeling somewhat ashamed of the hard things they had said about Ben. In the course of time most of the borrowers paid their money, and there was enough interest paid to almost cover the losses occasioned by the few who never paid at all; so Ben had to work only two days and a half for Uncle Amri. On one of those days, Uncle Amri told Ben that he had still some confidence in his business abilities, and thought of setting him up in business when he was twenty-one. Ben was gratified by this proof of confidence, but he told Uncle Amri that he felt now as if he should prefer “to stick to farming." OURS is a representative government, a government which recognizes the rights of all classes of citizens the rich as well as the poor, the unlearned as well as the learned, the rough and uncouth as well as the polished and refined; and if ignorance is displayed in our legislative halls, it is because an ignorant or thoughtless constituency has exercised its right of representation. If, therefore, you at any time hear of a member who apparently forgets, for a moment, the dignity that is expected of him as an American law-maker, you should blame the particular constituency that elected him, and not reflect upon the intelligence of the general public or the great principles of our government which render such a legislator possible. In so large a collection of men as the House of Representatives, it is almost inevitable that there will be some members who are of an indiscreet or rash temperament. Scenes of disorder and confusion like those I have described are found in all popular assemblies throughout the civilized world; and in this respect, the House of Representatives compares favorably with the Chamber of Deputies of France, and the House of Commons of Great Britain. But while I have seen many spirited scenes in the Senate, downright violations of order were of rare occurrence. There is one great influence that prevents the senators from engaging in frenzied tumults - it is their veneration for the traditions of the Senate. There are many unwritten rules of senatorial courtesy and etiquette, the observance of which tends to preserve the peculiar dignity and exclusiveness of that body; and those rules are guarded by the senators with great care. create disorder, and they also will not tolerate any acts of outsiders calculated to compromise the decorum and dignity of the Senate. I have often seen the galleries cleared and all the people ejected, simply because some of them had applauded too boisterously the remarks of a senator. CHAPTER XXIV. INVESTIGATIONS. THE members of the House are very jealous of their "dignity." They are often, as we have seen, careless enough about it themselves; but woe to any other person who may dare to defy their authority! Not only has Congress the sole authority to make laws and grant supplies for the other departments of the government, but, as a part of its general functions, it has supervising power over the manner in which they perform their duties. It watches carefully all their doings. It is continually calling upon the President (either directly or through his Cabinet officers) for information concerning foreign or domestic affairs, and thus keeps properly informed in regard to our relations with other nations and all the special interests of the country. This surveillance, or watch, is established over all proceedings, both great and small, in which the republic is or may be interested. When Congress hears of any official misconduct or questionable transaction, affecting our glory or our pockets, it at once institutes an inquiry into the matter. This power of Congressional Inquiry may be exercised by the Senate and the House, either jointly or independently, and, in important matters, special investigating committees are appointed. At about the time when I became a Senate-page, a great investigation was conducted into the career of the notorious "Ku Klux Klan,” and some of the costumes worn by members of that order were introduced in evidence, and remained in the possession of the sergeant-at-arms. These costumes we pages would delightedly don in our night-session pilgrimage, and wander, a silent but awful band, through the corridors and rooms of the Capitol, to the consternation of all visitors. If you have ever seen one of these weird, fantastic outfits, you can imagine the hideous spectacle we presented,- especially when we slid down the banisCopyright, 1884, by Edmund Alton. All rights reserved. The decorum of the Senate was occasionally in fact, frequently disturbed by laughter, but I noticed that it was usually a mild, gentlemanly sort of laughter. There was nothing wrong about that, for things occurred which rendered laughter necessary;— it really would have been impolite not to laugh! But, as a rule, the senators seek to avoid anything in their own deportment that is likely to ters of the stone stairway that led down into the the books of his business for examination. Mr. cellar, beneath the dome. There are always Congressional committees at work investigating something or other, and much money is annually consumed in the pursuit of information. Sometimes the committees visit various places to take the testimony of witnesses; and, during the sessions of Congress, the sergeants-at-arms of both bodies, or their deputies, scour the country after unwilling witnesses, and bring them to Washington for examination before the committees. To enable them to conduct these investigations as thoroughly as possible, these committees are empowered to summon, swear, and examine witnesses, and to require the production of books and papers, and, to this extent, they resemble judicial bodies. To refuse to testify or produce papers, therefore, is to defy the authority of Congress; and for such a refusal no matter on what ground it is baseda man summoned as a witness may be punished by a fine of one thousand dollars and imprisonment in a common jail for twelve months. That is the worst that can happen to him!* But there is one great restriction to be noted. The law-makers cannot inflict the punishment; they must turn the matter over to the United States prosecuting attorney for the District of Columbia, and give the offender a trial by jury in a court. At least, so reads that law. But while Congress knows very well that it can not try private citizens for misdemeanors, still it has frequently claimed the right to punish obstinate witnesses for "contempt" of its authority. And it has actually punished them! It is like the man of whom we have read. His lawyer called at the jail to see him, and heard his case. "Why, my dear fellow," said the lawyer, "they can't put you in jail for that!" "That may be," said the man, as he peered through the iron bars of his cell, "but they have put me here for it!" Now, with this explanation, you will better understand the important matter that came up in one of these investigations, and which finally resulted in settling the great question as to the power of Congress to punish for "contempt "-a proceeding which, in its very nature, is a judicial and not a legislative act. A certain citizen of this country owed the Government some money, and a committee of the House of Representatives, wishing to find out something about his financial condition, made an investigation. They summoned witnesses and questioned them. One of these witnesses, whom, for short, I shall call Mr. Blank, was a real-estate broker, and the committee commanded him to bring * The least penalty is a fine of $100 and one month in jail. Blank thought that the committee had no right to inquire into his personal affairs, and he refused to answer its questions or to produce the books. The committee became very indignant, and reported the matter to the House. That body stood by its committee, and ordered its sergeant-at-arms to arrest Mr. Blank, the obstinate witness. The sergeant-at-arms did as he was commanded, and brought Mr. Blank before the bar of the House, THE PAGES FROLIC IN WEIRD COSTUMES. like a prisoner of state. The Speaker asked him if he was prepared to answer the questions and produce the books. Then Mr. Blank presented a written statement, giving his reasons for declining to obey the House. But the House was not satisfied with his explanation, and declared that he should be punished as guilty of contempt of its dignity and authority. It therefore ordered the sergeant-at-arms to keep him in custody in the common jail of the District of Columbia until he should notify the House of his readiness to comply with its demands. So he was marched off to prison and put into a cell. As he afterward said, it was not a very luxurious place of abode, but he "had a variety of scenery - toward the north and east were the swamps and marshes of the Potomac ; to the south, the work-house, poor-house, and cemetery; and looking toward the west he could Forty-fourth Congress, first Session, 1876. |