same time money was so easy that many of the citizens were living like capitalists on their incomes, refusing to work. The demoralization among the dishwashers and scrubbers was particularly unfortunate, and the Board of Health was kept busy with complaints.
Accordingly, the government proposed a poll tax of a dollar a head, and a tax of five per cent, on all deposits in bank over five dollars.
I was in the House of Representatives when the bill was brought up. It was the first day of the new session. The Speaker sat on a stool, with his elbows resting on his knees, and fingering the occasional buttons of a torn waistcoat. He was a big, blasé Bowery youth, now serving his second term as Speaker. With the aid of a female member, in her second term, he was endeavoring to steer the new members into parliamentary lines.
The bill was entrusted to one of the government party.
"I object;" a member sprang to his feet.
"You're out of order, Mr. Dover," said the Speaker. "Oh, dry up, Dover," he continued; "the bill isn't before the House."
"I'll second it," said the female member, who was also a government ally.
"Mr. Speaker."
"Mr. Dover has the floor. Now let her go, Gallagher," continued the Speaker, shifting a pair of badly clad feet. Plainly politics had not paid.
"Well, Mr. Speaker, I oppose the second part of that bill. When a citizen has been industrious and laid up money in bank instead of spending it in foolishness, I don' see no justice in taxing him to pay for other citizens who are lazy and don' support the government. I ain't saying anything against the poll tax, that hits us all alike; but I'm down on taxing property we earn."
The honorable member was the richest citizen in Camp—for this took place in the House of Representatives of the George Junior Republic at Freeville, New York. It was currently reported that Dover had two hundred dollars in bank. He was part proprietor of Sherry's. He was one of the two practising lawyers, and the law was in large demand in Camp. But speculation was the chief source of Dover's wealth. He bought up United States money, floating dimes and nickels, from the little boys. These he invested in caramels and gumdrops from the village store. After paying the tariff levied on all goods from outside countries, these candies were sold to the same small and greedy little boys at five cents apiece. The profit was enormous. Dover's example was followed by others of the older boys, and speculation filled the air.
Under the circumstances Dover's speech was convincing. The second clause of the bill was defeated. As modified, it appeared on the public bulletin:
"A poll tax of twenty-five cents shall be levied for the week ending August 24th. Those who are unable to pay shall work out the amount in government employment."
This tax scarcely alleviated the situation. The government deficit was increasing, while its depreciated currency was being absorbed by the speculators and locked up in bank. The government now determined on a bold move. The various concessions of the Camp, which is the familiar name of the little settlement, are put up at auction every Saturday evening. These are the hotels Waldorf, Elmira, Ithaca, Dryden, and the restaurants Sherry's and Delmonico's. Through its agents the bids were run up until the government virtually became the owner of the two restaurants. The prices of the meals were now doubled. Sherry's, formerly ten cents a meal, was now a quarter; Delmonico's, from a quarter, rose to fifty cents.
The Senate.
