Burbank's work was, therefore, highly important. But the seat of the real campaign was Woodruff's privatest private room in the Chicago headquarters. For, there were laid and were put in the way of execution the plans for acquiring those elements that, in the doubtful states, have the balance of power between the two opposing and about evenly matched masses of "principle" voters. I just now recall a talk I had with my wife, about that time. She took no interest in politics and rarely spoke of political matters--and both of us discouraged political talk before the children. One day she said to me: "This campaign of yours and Mr. Burbank's must be costing an awful lot of money."
"This is a big country, and you can't stir it up politically for nothing. Why do you ask?"
"The rich men--the big corporations--give most of it."
"Patriotism," said I. "To save the nation from our wicked opponent."
"How do Mr. Roebuck and the others get it back?" she pursued, ignoring my pleasantry.
"Why the money they advance. They aren't the men to _give_ anything."
She lapsed into thoughtfulness. When I was assuming that her mind had wandered off to something else she said: "The people must be very stupid--not to suspect."
"Or, the rich men and the corporations very stupid to give," I suggested.
"Do you mean that they don't get it back?" she demanded.
"Of course," said I, "their patriotism must be rewarded. We can not expect them to save the country year after year for nothing."
"I should think not!" she said, adding disgustedly, "I think politics is very silly. And men get excited about it! But _I_ never listen."
Arriving at the "retreat" from the Scarborough convention, I found Burbank much perturbed because Scarborough had been nominated. He did not say so--on the contrary, he expressed in sonorous phrases his satisfaction that there was to be "a real test of strength between conservatism and radicalism." He never dropped his pose, even with me--not even with himself.
"I confess I don't share your cheerfulness," said I. "If Scarborough were a wild man, we'd have a walkover. But he isn't, and I fear he'll be more and more attractive to the wavering voters, to many of our own people. Party loyalty has been overworked in the last few presidential campaigns. He'll go vote-hunting in the doubtful states, but it won't seem undignified. He's one of those men whose dignity comes from the inside and can't be lost."