This was the gist of leading articles which appeared simultaneously in several newspapers, apparently before the happy thought of bringing forward Mr. Giles Henderson had occurred to anybody.  He was mentioned first, and most properly, by the editor of the “Kingston Pilot;” and the article, with comments upon it, ran like wildfire through the press of the State,—­appearing even in those sheets which maintained editorially that they were for the Honourable Adam B. Hunt first and last and, all the time.  Whereupon Mr. Giles Henderson began to receive visits from the solid men—­not politicians of the various cities and counties.  For instance, Mr. Silas Tredway of Ripton, made such a pilgrimage and, as a citizen who had voted in 1860 for Abraham Lincoln (showing Mr. Tredway himself to have been a radical once), appealed to Mr. Henderson to save the State.

At first Mr. Henderson would give no ear to these appeals, but shook his head pessimistically.  He was not a politician—­so much the better, we don’t want a politician; he was a plain business man exactly what is needed; a conservative, level-headed business man wholly lacking in those sensational qualities which are a stench in the nostrils of good citizens.  Mr. Giles Henderson admitted that the time had come when a man of these qualities was needed—­but he was not the man.  Mr. Tredway was the man—­so he told Mr. Tredway; Mr. Gates of Brampton was the man—­so he assured Mr. Gates.  Mr. Henderson had no desire to meddle in politics; his life was a happy and a full one.  But was it not Mr. Henderson’s duty?  Cincinnatus left the plough, and Mr. Henderson should leave the ledger at the call of his countrymen.

Mr. Giles Henderson was mild-mannered and blue-eyed, with a scanty beard that was turning white; he was a deacon of the church, a member of the school board, president of the Kingston National Bank; the main business of his life had been in coal (which incidentally had had to be transported over the Northeastern Railroads); and coal rates, for some reason, were cheaper from Kingston than from many points out of the State the distances of which were nearer.  Mr. Henderson had been able to sell his coal at a lower price than any other large dealer in the eastern part of the State.  Mr. Henderson was the holder of a large amount of stock in the Northeastern, inherited from his father.  Facts of no special significance, and not printed in the weekly newspapers.  Mr. Henderson lived in a gloomy Gothic house on High Street, ate three very plain meals a day, and drank iced water.  He had been a good husband and a good father, and had always voted the Republican ticket.  He believed in the gold standard, a high tariff, and eternal damnation.  At last his resistance was overcome, and he consented to allow his name to be used.

It was used, with a vengeance.  Spontaneous praise of Mr. Giles Henderson bubbled up all over the State, and editors who were for the Honourable Adam B. Hunt suddenly developed a second choice.  No man within the borders of the commonwealth had so many good qualities as the new candidate, and it must have been slightly annoying to one of that gentleman’s shrinking nature to read daily, on coming down to breakfast, a list of virtues attributed to him as long as a rate schedule.  How he must have longed for the record of one wicked deed to make him human!