“I cannot say I would be equal to the duties, gentlemen, for I have never been mayor.  My services, (except now and then,)"-here the major filled his glass-"have been for the army and politics, which I take it have nothing to do with setting a city to rights.  If spitting an enemy, getting up a riot, and giving peace and comfort to them who have a taste for breaking heads, be things which a mayor must be an adept at, then you may trust me, gentlemen,” said the major, giving his hand to Alderman Dooley in pledge of his faith.

Alderman Baggs, who was a man of much wind, and extremely fond of making speeches on these great occasions, though in this instance he had peaceably pursued his advances upon the bottle, and left the speeches to others, proposed that instead of mayor, which after all was no great affair of an office, he immediately set on foot a project for making the major President of the United States.  The major, he said, had surely evinced ability enough.

“What you please-make what you please of me, gentlemen, for I am your servant, and the good servant is known by his work-that I know!  And if it is your will that I should be President, my highest ambition shall be to serve you to the best of my ability.  This I may say, give me the power, as my wife, Polly Potter, used to say, and I will hang fillibusters to your satisfaction.”

An alderman of the name of Billy Bristle, who was known to have a slight inclination for fillibustering, and had more than a score of times pledged the city to the measures of gentlemen that way inclined, having just looked in to pay his respects to the city’s guest, rose quickly to his feet at hearing so bold a proposal to get rid of his friends, and declared his readiness to fight any gentleman who would say a word damaging to the character of the fillibusters.  Alderman Dooley, between whom and Alderman Bristle, an old grudge had stood for some time unsettled, cast a frown upon the assertion, and declared that the language held was an implied insult, whereupon he measured with his stalwart arm the distance between his body and the Alderman’s nose.  This being the signal for a grand set to, which was had in right good earnest, the scene of confusion that followed no one need attempt to describe, unless he have the pen of a Balzac.  Tumblers and broken chairs being the order of weapon most in use, and the major not being skilled in the use of such arms, lost no time in retreating to a dark closet, where, closely packed among sundry old clothes and house rubbish, he congratulated himself by saying:  “Now, as I am a military man, and have no taste for this sort of fighting, I will look well to my head, and let them have the glory.”