XVI
WHAT WE FORGET
The importance of knowing who my Congressman is had never occurred to me
until Professor Wilson Stubbs brought up the subject at a luncheon in
the Reform Club. Professor Stubbs spoke on Civic Obligations. He argued
that at the bottom of all political corruption lay the average citizen's
personal indifference. "For instance," he said, "how many of those
present know the name of the man who represents their district at
Washington?" And as it happened, while he waited for a reply, his eye
rested thoughtfully on me.
I grew red under his scrutiny. I tried my best to remember and failed. I
did vaguely recall the lithographed presentment of a large,
clean-shaven man, with a heavy jaw. It hung in a barber-shop window
between a blue-and-red poster announcing a grand masquerade and civic
ball, and a papier-mache trout under a glass case. I could not bring
back the man's name, although I was sure that his picture was inscribed
on the top "Our Choice," and at the bottom he was characterised as
somebody's friend--I could not recall whether he was the People's
friend, or the Workingman's, or the Bronx's.
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