a soldier high up on the ramparts.  Mr. Nixon would have then become a martyr or a hero; and between the two there after all goes flowing no mighty difference.  A martyr is a hero who failed; a hero is a martyr who succeeded; both gain the veneration of a people, and die or live secure of self-respect.  Mr. Nixon should have uplifted the standards of a new crusade against that handful of great robbers who, making Tammany their stronghold, issued forth to a rapine of the town.  Nor, had he done so, would he have fallen in the battle.  As I have already said, nineteen of every Tammany twenty would have come round him for that fight.  He would have conquered a true leadership and advanced a public interest while upbuilding his party.  Mr. Nixon, however, failed tamely in the very arms of opportunity.  He kept to the same ignoble counsel that had so wrought disrepute for Mr. Croker.  And, afar from thoughts of assailing those who had dragged Tammany Hall through mire to achieve their villain ends, he went openly into their districts, commended them to the voters, hailed them as his friends and urged their retention in the executive board.  Is it marvel, then, that Mr. Nixon as a ‘leader’ took no root? or that by the earliest gust of opposition he was overblown?  It could not have come otherwise; he fairly threw himself beneath the wheels of Fate.”

“As to the future of Tammany Hall,” said Vacuum, “will Mr. Croker make further effort to dominate it and send it orders from abroad?”

“Undoubtedly,” returned Enfield, to whom the query was put, “Mr. Croker will strive in all ways to prolong himself.  It is with him both a matter of money and a matter of pride.  But he will fail; his whilom follower, Mr. Carroll, is too powerful.  Mr. Carroll is in possession and will yield only to Mr. Martin,—­that inveterate foe of Mr. Croker.”

“Do you know why Mr. Croker attacked Mr. Carroll just before he left?” asked Vacuum “and ordered his destruction?  One morning, he was taken by Mr. Fox to view Mr. Carroll’s building operations near Fifth Avenue in Fifty-seventh Street.  Mr. Fox called attention to the grandeur of Mr. Carroll’s plans.  The workmen were tearing down a house to make room for Mr. Carroll’s coming palace.  Mr. Croker gazed for full ten minutes in wordless, moody gloom.  Then turning to the sympathetic Mr. Fox he broke forth:  ’What do you think of that?  He’s tearing down a better house than mine!’ From that moment Mr. Croker went about the tearing down of Mr. Carroll.”

“I had not supposed him so small,” said Fatfloat, “as to feel piqued because Mr. Carroll would build a better house than his own.”

“He didn’t feel piqued,” said Lemon; “he felt plundered, and doubtless asked a question concerning Mr. Carroll that has been so often asked about himself.”

* * * * *

“And yet,” observed Van Addle, appealing to Enfield, “I should love prodigiously to hear your views on the situation in Tammany as it stands.  I confess both an ignorance and a curiosity for light.”