you’ll find all its railings flapping with pink satin ribbons; a janitor at its main door, squirting vanilla on all who go in; and its front lawn will turn into a pansy farm! Put a man in City Hall, not a sissy who thinks out ‘upsy-downsy, insy-outsy’ camping suits for girls!”
But though this didn’t annoy Bill, it did stir up Nancy, with:—
“Oh! That’s just an abomination! Such talk about so grand a young chap! But I just saw a billboard with a sign saying: ‘Bill Gadsby for Council;’ so, probably I shouldn’t worry, for Bill is as good as in.”
“Baby,” said Gadsby, kindly, “that’s only a billboard, and billboards don’t put a man in City Hall. It’s ballots, darling; thousands of ballots, that fill Council chairs.”
“But, Daddy, I’m going to root for Bill. I’ll stand up on a stump, or in a tip-cart, or”
“Whoa! Wait a bit!” and Gadsby sat down by his “baby girl,” saying: “You can’t go on a stumping campaign without knowing a lot about municipal affairs; which you don’t. Any antagonist who knows about such things would out-talk you without half trying. No, darling, this political stuff is too big for you. You just look out for things in that small bungalow of yours, and allow Branton
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