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Show BRYAN IN DEFEAT. A writer in the American Magazine tells the story of Mr. Bryan on the night of his last defeat as follows: "At 8:30 Mr. Bryan came in. Instantly half a dozen correspondents surrounded him. No one said a word, not even Mr. Bryan. He held a bunch of tfclegrams in one hand, with the other he stroked his chin. He was deeply thoughtful. Presently he told the group that he had heard nothing from Chairman Mack, nothing from any authoritative source, nothing except the meager figures from New York that told of losses, losses, losses everywhere. every-where. . "And hour after hour the messages poured in with their burden of disappointment. At 11 o'clock, when the returns showed that only the most unprecedented unpre-cedented results in many states couH save his ticket, tick-et, Mr. Bryan came again to the sun parlor. For a moment he stood alone by the-door that led to the private part of" .the house. -Every man faced him. " 'I am going to bed, boys,' he said. His voice was Ioav pitched, as a man speaks when he has received re-ceived some crushing news, as he speaks of something some-thing that has gone out of his life forever, something some-thing he has struggled for and planned for and dreamed about. This was no mere defeat; it was the end of a great ambition at a time in life when ambitions, unrealized, are locked away in the heart, to be looked at occasionally, perhaps, as men look at some old keepsake, with keen regret. '"'I am going to bed,' he repeated. His face, was gray and drawn, so that men who, had been with him long and knew it well noticed it. 'I have nothing to say,' he continued, after a pause. 'Not a word tonight. I am very tired and need rest.' "William Jennings Bryan tired! Not a man in the group had ever heard him say that. He bowed and backed away into the private hallway. Mrs. Bryan and Grace were standing there to meet him. Some one had turned the lights low, with little thought of how effectively it would stage the drama. They stood together for a few moments, the father, the mother and daughter, the daughter with tears in her eyes and voice. Before Be-fore them was the large portrait of Washington, in front of which Mr. Bryan had stood, a few months before, and tallied of the victory he knew should be his in November. Mrs. Bryan put a hand on her husband's shoulder, looking up at him and speaking words that no one cared to hear. - "The full effect of the defeat was seen the morning after. It was largely a matter of saying goodby to the men who had been with him through stirring times of assuring good friends that he had had a fine night's rest, of telling the anxious ones that his future was assured regardless of the presidency. But the old smile was not there, the old cheerfulness and the old hopefulness that have characterized him after other struggled were lacking. lack-ing. Mr. Bryan arose early, aa if he really had slept undisturbed through the night. " 'Perhaps, Mr. Bryan,' one of the visitors said, forcing a smile, 'perhaps the next time I meet you you will be going to the United States senate.' " 'Office holding has been an incident in my career,' the defeated candidate said gravely. 'Every 'Ev-ery one must know that I did not seek the nomination nomi-nation in 189G, in 1900 or in 1908. Each came to me. My plans for the future are made. I can't talk of them now.' " |