AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A PENNSYLVANIAN
she never did anything, and yet this absurd insect, year in and year out, kept repeating the same old song. Strong of voice and short of ballast, it retired with the frosts of November, i. e., the elections, but was sure to return with the next campaign.
At Pittsburgh there had been much dissatisfaction with a recent act which deprived the mayor, who had been elected, of his office and changed the form of government—in popular parlance called The Ripper Bill. On the train from Erie to Pittsburgh to attend a great meeting there. Senator Penrose said to me:
“I hope you will not say anything about the Ripper Bill.”
“Senator,” I answered, “that is the very subject about which I propose to talk to them.”
And I did, denouncing its policy, and I won what he conceded to be a success. I made not a single promise of any kind, either to an individual or to the public, and told the people wherever I went that I did not know whether I would make a good governor or not, that they would have to run the risk and take the responsibility, but that if elected, I should endeavor always to look solely to the welfare of the state. Quay made to me only one suggestion with regard to the future. Alexander J. Cassatt, president of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company, was very much interested in horse-racing and improving the breed of horses. Practically a race-track could only be maintained if betting upon the horses should be permitted. The Senator asked me from Cassatt whether I would favor the passage of such a law. I replied:
“Senator, I am not sure that gambling is essentially a crime. If you choose to introduce an act which abolishes our laws against gambling, I will carefully consider the question. But, remember, that permits the negro to shoot craps. I think it would be a mistake to allow betting on horses and not on craps.”
I heard no more of the subject.
