Hellisotherpeople/Lipogram-e · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 662
buildings_, form what Mankind calls a city. But what would big, costly
buildings amount to, if all who work in such cannot maintain that good
physical condition paramount in carrying on a city's various forms of
labor? And not only _physical_ good, but also a mind happy from lack of
worry and of that stagnation which always follows a monotonous daily
grind. So our Organization was soon out again, agitating City Officials
and civilians toward building a big Auditorium in which all kinds of
shows and sports could occur, with also a swimming pool and hot and
cold baths. Such a building cannot so much as start without financial
backing; but gradually many an iron-bound bank account was drawn upon
(much as you pull a tooth!), to buy bonds. Also, such a building won't
grow up in a night; nor was a spot upon which to put it found without
a lot of agitation; many wanting it in a down-town district; and also,
many who had vacant land put forth all sorts of claims to obtain cash
for lots upon which a big tax was paid annually, without profits. But
all such things automatically turn out satisfactorily to a majority;
though an ugly, grasping landlord who lost out, would viciously squawk
that "municipal graft" was against him.

Now Gadsby was vigorously against graft; not only in city affairs but
in any kind of transaction; and that stab brought forth such a flow of
oratory from him, that as voting for Mayor was soon to occur, it, and a
long list of good works, soon had him up for that position. But Gadsby
didn't want such a nomination; still, thousands of townsfolks who had
known him from childhood, would not hark to anything but his candidacy;
and, soon, on window cards, signs, and flags across Broadway, was
his photograph and "GADSBY FOR MAYOR;" and a campaign was on which
still rings in Branton Hills' history as "hot stuff!" Four aspiring
politicians ran in opposition; and, as all had good backing, and Gadsby
only his public works to fall back on, things soon got looking gloomy
for him. His antagonists, standing upon soap box, auto truck, or
hastily built platforms, put forth, with prodigious vim, claims that
"our fair city will go back to its original oblivion if _I_ am not its
Mayor!" But our Organization now took a hand, most of which, now out of
High School, was growing up rapidly; and anybody who knows anything at
all about Branton Hills' history, knows that, if this band of bright,
loyal pals of Gadsby's was out to attain a goal, it was mighty apt to
start things humming. To say that Gadsby's rivals got a bad jolt as
it got around town that his "bunch of warriors" was aiding him, would
put it but mildly. _Two quit instantly_, saying that this is a day of
Youth and no adult has half a show against it! But two still hung on;
clinging to a sort of fond fantasy that Gadsby, not naturally a public
sort of man, might voluntarily drop out. But, had Gadsby so much as
thought of such an action, his Organization would quickly laugh it to
scorn.

"Why, good gracious!" said Frank Morgan, "if _anybody_ should sit in
that Mayor's chair in City Hall, it's you! Just look at what you did to
boost Branton Hills! Until you got it a-going it had but two thousand
inhabitants; now it has sixty thousand! And just ask your rivals to
point to any part of it that you didn't build up. Look at our Public
Library, municipal band, occupational class rooms; auto and bus trips;
and your circus which paid for music for sick folks. With you as Mayor,
_boy!_ What an opportunity to boss and swing things your own way! Why,
anything you might say is as good as law; and----"

"Now, hold on, boy!" said Gadsby, "a Mayor can't boss things in any
such a way as you think. A Mayor has a Council, which has to pass on
all bills brought up; and, my boy, upon arriving at manhood, you'll
find that a Mayor who _can_ boss a Council around, is a most uncommon
bird. And as for a Mayor's word amounting to a law, it's a mighty good
thing that it can't! Why, a Mayor can't do much of anything, today,
Frank, without a bunch of crazy bat-brains stirring up a rumpus about
his acts looking 'suspiciously shady.' Now that is a bad condition in
which to find a city, Frank. You boys don't know anything about graft;
but as you grow up you will find many flaws in a city's laws; but also
many points thoroughly good and fair. Just try to think what a city
would amount to if a solitary man could control its law making, as a
King or Sultan of old. That was why so many millions of inhabitants
would start wars and riots against a tyrant; for many a King _was_ a
tyrant, Frank, and had no thought as to how his laws would suit his
thousands of rich and poor. A law that might suit a rich man, might
work all kinds of havoc with a poor family."

"But," said Frank, "why should a King pass a law that would dissatisfy
anybody?"

Gadsby's parry to this rising youthful ambition for light on political
affairs was:--

"Why will a duck go into a pond?" and Frank found that though a growing
young man might know a thing or two, making laws for a city was a man's
job.

So, with a Mayoralty campaign on his hands, plus planning for that big
auditorium, Gadsby was as busy as a fly around a syrup jug; for a mass
of campaign mail had to go out; topics for orations thought up; and
contacts with his now truly important Organization of Youth, took so
many hours out of his days that his family hardly saw him, at all. Noon
naturally stood out as a good opportunity for oratory, as thousands,
out for lunch, would stop, in passing. But, also, many a hall rang with
plaudits as an antagonist won a point; but many a throng saw Gadsby's
good points, and plainly told him so by turning out voluminously at any
point at which his oratory was to flow. It was truly miraculous how
this man of shy disposition, found words in putting forth his plans for
improving Branton Hills, town of his birth. Many an orator has grown
up from an unassuming individual who had things worth saying; and who,
through that curious facility which is born of a conviction that his
plans had a practical basis, won many a ballot against such prolific
flows of high-sounding words as his antagonists had in stock. Many a

buildings_, form what Mankind calls a city. But what would big, costly

buildings amount to, if all who work in such cannot maintain that good

physical condition paramount in carrying on a city's various forms of

labor? And not only _physical_ good, but also a mind happy from lack of

worry and of that stagnation which always follows a monotonous daily

grind. So our Organization was soon out again, agitating City Officials

and civilians toward building a big Auditorium in which all kinds of

shows and sports could occur, with also a swimming pool and hot and

cold baths. Such a building cannot so much as start without financial

backing; but gradually many an iron-bound bank account was drawn upon

(much as you pull a tooth!), to buy bonds. Also, such a building won't

grow up in a night; nor was a spot upon which to put it found without

a lot of agitation; many wanting it in a down-town district; and also,

many who had vacant land put forth all sorts of claims to obtain cash

for lots upon which a big tax was paid annually, without profits. But

all such things automatically turn out satisfactorily to a majority;

though an ugly, grasping landlord who lost out, would viciously squawk

that "municipal graft" was against him.

Now Gadsby was vigorously against graft; not only in city affairs but

in any kind of transaction; and that stab brought forth such a flow of

oratory from him, that as voting for Mayor was soon to occur, it, and a

long list of good works, soon had him up for that position. But Gadsby

didn't want such a nomination; still, thousands of townsfolks who had

known him from childhood, would not hark to anything but his candidacy;

and, soon, on window cards, signs, and flags across Broadway, was

his photograph and "GADSBY FOR MAYOR;" and a campaign was on which

still rings in Branton Hills' history as "hot stuff!" Four aspiring

politicians ran in opposition; and, as all had good backing, and Gadsby

only his public works to fall back on, things soon got looking gloomy

for him. His antagonists, standing upon soap box, auto truck, or

hastily built platforms, put forth, with prodigious vim, claims that

"our fair city will go back to its original oblivion if _I_ am not its

Mayor!" But our Organization now took a hand, most of which, now out of

High School, was growing up rapidly; and anybody who knows anything at

all about Branton Hills' history, knows that, if this band of bright,

loyal pals of Gadsby's was out to attain a goal, it was mighty apt to

start things humming. To say that Gadsby's rivals got a bad jolt as

it got around town that his "bunch of warriors" was aiding him, would

put it but mildly. _Two quit instantly_, saying that this is a day of

Youth and no adult has half a show against it! But two still hung on;

clinging to a sort of fond fantasy that Gadsby, not naturally a public

sort of man, might voluntarily drop out. But, had Gadsby so much as

thought of such an action, his Organization would quickly laugh it to

scorn.

"Why, good gracious!" said Frank Morgan, "if _anybody_ should sit in

that Mayor's chair in City Hall, it's you! Just look at what you did to

boost Branton Hills! Until you got it a-going it had but two thousand

inhabitants; now it has sixty thousand! And just ask your rivals to

point to any part of it that you didn't build up. Look at our Public

Library, municipal band, occupational class rooms; auto and bus trips;

and your circus which paid for music for sick folks. With you as Mayor,

_boy!_ What an opportunity to boss and swing things your own way! Why,

anything you might say is as good as law; and----"

"Now, hold on, boy!" said Gadsby, "a Mayor can't boss things in any

such a way as you think. A Mayor has a Council, which has to pass on

all bills brought up; and, my boy, upon arriving at manhood, you'll

find that a Mayor who _can_ boss a Council around, is a most uncommon

bird. And as for a Mayor's word amounting to a law, it's a mighty good

thing that it can't! Why, a Mayor can't do much of anything, today,

Frank, without a bunch of crazy bat-brains stirring up a rumpus about

his acts looking 'suspiciously shady.' Now that is a bad condition in

which to find a city, Frank. You boys don't know anything about graft;

but as you grow up you will find many flaws in a city's laws; but also

many points thoroughly good and fair. Just try to think what a city

would amount to if a solitary man could control its law making, as a

King or Sultan of old. That was why so many millions of inhabitants

would start wars and riots against a tyrant; for many a King _was_ a

tyrant, Frank, and had no thought as to how his laws would suit his

thousands of rich and poor. A law that might suit a rich man, might

work all kinds of havoc with a poor family."

"But," said Frank, "why should a King pass a law that would dissatisfy

anybody?"

Gadsby's parry to this rising youthful ambition for light on political

affairs was:--

"Why will a duck go into a pond?" and Frank found that though a growing

young man might know a thing or two, making laws for a city was a man's

job.

So, with a Mayoralty campaign on his hands, plus planning for that big

auditorium, Gadsby was as busy as a fly around a syrup jug; for a mass

of campaign mail had to go out; topics for orations thought up; and

contacts with his now truly important Organization of Youth, took so

many hours out of his days that his family hardly saw him, at all. Noon

naturally stood out as a good opportunity for oratory, as thousands,

out for lunch, would stop, in passing. But, also, many a hall rang with

plaudits as an antagonist won a point; but many a throng saw Gadsby's

good points, and plainly told him so by turning out voluminously at any

point at which his oratory was to flow. It was truly miraculous how

this man of shy disposition, found words in putting forth his plans for

improving Branton Hills, town of his birth. Many an orator has grown

up from an unassuming individual who had things worth saying; and who,

through that curious facility which is born of a conviction that his

plans had a practical basis, won many a ballot against such prolific

flows of high-sounding words as his antagonists had in stock. Many a