Free Freddy the Politician by Walter R. Brooks Page A

argument Freddy said: “As far as doing a good job goes, I don’t think it makes any difference. Any of you would do a good job. But my choice would be Mrs. Wiggins. She’s got the presence for it. She’s the biggest of us all—and that’s very important, for she’ll show up well in crowds or group photographs. She’s a good mixer. And she’s got common sense. Also, she’s had some practice in public speaking, in those travel talks she used to give. I think we should all get behind Mrs. Wiggins.”
    â€œWell now, Freddy,” said Mrs. Wiggins, with a troubled look on her broad face, “I don’t agree with you. A cow ain’t built for public life, and that’s a fact. A cow’s place is in the home. Now, I think—”
    But Freddy interrupted her quickly. He felt pretty sure that the other animals agreed with him, and he didn’t want another argument started, which might split them up again. “Nonsense,” he said loudly. “You’re our candidate. Go in and win. Mrs. Wiggins for president: that’s our platform, and on it we stand. How about it, animals?”
    The others, carried away by Freddy’s enthusiasm, agreed and shouted down Mrs. Wiggins’s objections.
    â€œWell,” she said at last, “all right. I’ll do my best. If you’ll all get behind me, as Freddy says, maybe we’ll get somewhere. But,” she added with her booming laugh, “if you shove good and hard it’ll be better. A cow’s awful hard to move.”

VIII
    A mob of animals of all kinds and sizes jammed the big barn to the doors that evening, and hundreds of late arrivals crowded close up to every crack and door and window, straining their ears to hear every word that was said. Freddy, sitting with his friends in the old phaeton which always served as a platform at these meetings, said to Jinx: “Lots of strange faces here tonight. I don’t even know some of these animals. And heavens, there’s old Whibley, the owl. He hasn’t been out in society in five years. Gosh, there are even a couple of animals that I don’t know what they are.”
    â€œCoons, I guess,” said Jinx. “But they’ve had their hair combed and their faces washed. Well, Freddy, they’re all here. Better get up and give them the works.”
    So Freddy stood up. Resting one forefoot on the dashboard, which was tastefully draped with the new flag, he raised the other for silence. “My friends,” he said, “we have come together here tonight to do something that has never before been done in the history of the world. We have established the First Animal Bank, and now we meet to establish the first animal republic. There is no need to tell you how momentous such an occasion must be. There is no need to remind you of the tremendous results which may follow from our action here tonight, and which will influence the lives of our children and our children’s children for generations untold. Nor is there need—”
    â€œIf there isn’t any need,” interrupted Jinx in a stage whisper, “what do you go on yelling about it for? There’s no need to talk all night. Get to business.”
    â€œEr—no,” said Freddy, pulling himself up short. “There is no need for any of these things. So we will proceed to the main business of the evening, which is the nomination of candidates for the office of president. The election will be held in two weeks’ time. The meeting is open for nominations.”
    After the applause died down, there was a moment of silence. Freddy looked down and in the front row saw Simon and his entire family, all staring up at him with their beady black eyes, looking very solemn and innocent. And he was just wondering if they would really have the nerve to nominate one of their number, when a voice in another part of the hall said: “Ladies and gentlemen!”