The Judge stamped his stick on the ground in a speechless access of irritability.
“They pasted on my luggage," said the Major, "when I came through Vera Cruz: La degenerada media clasa, Será regenerada, por mi, Montes. The degenerate middle class shall be regenerated by me, Montes."
“Poor Montes!" said Kate. "He seems to have got his work cut out.”
"He has indeed!" said Mrs Norris. “Poor man, I wish he might come in peacefully and put a strong hand on the country. But there’s not much hope, I’m afraid.”
There was a silence, during which Kate felt that bitter hopelessness that comes over people who know Mexico A bitter barren hopelessness.
"How can a man who comes in on a Labour vote, even a doctored one, put a strong hand on a country!" snapped the Judge." Why he came in on the very cry of Down with the strong hand!" And again the old mar stamped his stick in an access of extreme irritability.
This was another characteristic of the old residents of the city: A state of intense, though often suppressed irritation, an irritation amounting almost to rabies.
Oh, but mayn’t it be possible that he will change his views a little on coming into power?" said Mrs Norris. "So many Presidents have done so.”
"I should say very probable, if ever he gets into power," said young Henry. "He’ll have all his work cut out saving Socrates Tomas, he won’t have much time left for saving Mexico.”
“He’s a dangerous fellow, and will turn out a scoundrel,” said the Judge.
“Myself,” said Owen, "as far as I have followed him, I believe he is sincere, and I admire him.”
“I thought it was so nice,” said Kate, "that they received him in New York with loud music by the Street Sweepers’ Band. The Street Sweepers’ Band they sent to receive him from the ship!"
“You see,” said the Major, "no doubt the Labour people themselves wished to send that particular band."
"But to be President Elect, and to be received by the Street Sweepers’ Band!" said Kate. “No, I can’t believe it!”
