Uncle Jim had said he
was too worried about the mills to talk politics, "Don't ask me, Leila."
At last, an errand to Dr. McGregor's gave her the chance she desired.
"Yes," said the doctor, "I'll come to-day. One of the maids? Well, what
else, Leila?" seeing that she still lingered.
"I want to know something about all this tangle of politics. There's
Breckinridge, Douglas, Bell and Lincoln--four candidates. Uncle Jim gets
almost cross when I ask him what they all stand for. Mr. Rivers told me
to be thankful I have no vote. If there is to be war, have I no interest?
There is Uncle Jim--and--and John."
The doctor said, "Sit down, Leila. Your uncle could answer you. He won't
talk. I don't believe John Penhallow owns any politics except a soldier's
blind creed of devotion to the Flag."
"Oh, the Flag, Doctor! But it is a symbol--it is history. I won't write
to a man any more who has no certain opinions. He never answers."
"Well, my dear, see how hard it is to know what to think! One State after
another is seceding. The old juggle of compromises goes on in that circus
we call Congress. The audience is grimly silent. Crittenden's compromise
has failed. The President is at last against secession--and makes no
vigorous effort to reinforce Fort Sumter. The Cabinet was distinctly with
the South--the new men came in too late.
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