J

UST prior to the last state election an anxious Republican entered the office of James O. Lyford and asked him how he expected the Labor situation in Manchester would affect the state returns. It is said that that veteran tipped back in his chair, elevated his chin, and lowered his lids, adopting that familiar pose which means that he has the spy glass to his eyes and is searching the lines of the enemy. He spoke something as follows: "The labor unions of Manchester are made up of three classes; aliens who have no vote, a very few Republicans, and a great many Democrats. Consequently, I doubt whether the labor situation will change many votes." Seldom indeed is the judgment of that battle-scarred soldier of the Old Guard at fault, and

his keen perception has won many an Austerlitz. And yet, before the night of that terrible election ward after ward of Manchester was piling up that tremendous majority which swept Brown and Rogers into office, and turned the Legislature of a rock-ribbed Republican state Democratic.

Even as the devout Mohammedan turns his gaze toward his holy city, Mecca, so the New Hampshire politician ever fastens his eyes upon the largest city of his state and its most intense political hot bed-Manchester. A city

of 80,000 people of various nationalities, different religious creeds, and luke warm party affiliations, Manchester is at its best an uncertain quantity. It has unexpectedly changed the tide of many a campaign and spelled defeat or victory

for many an aspirant for office.

A North countryman may be as inscrutable as the massive rock of his mountainside, His words are few but his actions are definite, and having taken a stand, he is fixed to the bitter end. Manchester is far from the rock of the mountain. It resembles more the shifting sands of the sea. Its populance moves in masses and moves quickly. One moment two factions are engaged in bitter strife, the next moment they are at peace and the lion and lamb lie down together. Is it strange that political leaders are baffled?

For several years past Manchester's delegation has been the storm center of the state Legislature. The three score members which compose this delegation have been a dangerous weapon in the hands of friends and a fearful one to enemies. At times they have broken forth in open revolt against their own. party leaders. Members of the last Legislature can easily recall the stormy scene when Raymond B. Stevens, the Democratic floor leader, tried in vain to hold his cohorts in check and guide their action upon the fact finding resolution. They have been known to turn against their own captain and the writer remembers hearing that astute Manchester politician say in a rather plaintive way, "A fellow can vote with them on 99 questions and vote against them on one, and they will forget the 99 and remember only the one." He probably had in mind the new Carpenter Hotel, which is said to have cost him the mayoralty office of Manchester.

To-day when the first murmur of an approaching state campaign is being heard, a campaign in which the two parties will fight on a more equal basis, and consequently more desperately than ever before in New Hampshire politics, the people of New Hampshire are watching Manchester. They have reason to watch for the Queen city is engaged in one of the bitterest municipal contests of its history. The situation on the surface is this: There are six

candidates for the Democratic nomina

tion for mayor. There is one very reluctant candidate for the Republican nomination. One would infer from this that the Republicans are not anticipating an overwhelming victory. The Democratic candidates are John L. Barry, President of the New Hampshire Federation of Labor; Ferdinand Farley, Solicitor of Hillsborough County; State Senator Frederick W. Branch; Councillor Thomas J. Conway; Ex-Mayor Charles Hayes; and Alderman Brown. The Republican candidate is the present mayor; George E. Trudel.

This, as we said, is the situation on the surface, as it appears to the casual observer and newspaper reader. One whose knowledge ends with this, however, has not yet learned the alphabet of the Manchester language. We remember a famous picture puzzle which represented a beautiful sylvan scene in the midst of which a pair of happy lovers were seated on a log. As one gazed at the picture, however, the branches of the trees and the outlines of the rocks and underbrush began to reveal the forms of all kinds of ferocious animals. Our knowledge of Manchester's politics is very meagre and is derived merely from second-hand information and by a pilgrimage which we made through the streets and public places of that city. Unsophisticated as we were, however, we soon began to realize that the real scene of Manchester's fight and the battlefields where history is being made to-day is not the City Hall, the headquarters of the Labor Union, or even the offices of the various candidates. We would say rather that the secret would be found in various other places about the city, some of them well known and some of them obscure.

Behind the counter of a certain cigar store stands a young man of quiet demeanor who meets your eye with a clear, straight-forward gaze, and talks with you very casually about the weather, the comparative excellence of Pippins and Dexters, and will sometimes consent to

If

discuss with you his private political opinions, implying, however that they are of no more consequence than those of any other citizen of Manchester. the truth were known, however, it is probable that this same retiring young man is one of the real powers in the Democratic party of Manchester, and consequently a real factor in New Hampshire politics. He belongs to what is known by some outsiders as the Kirby-Mullen-Verette faction of Manchester democracy. He is at the present time a staunch supporter of John L. Barry. He will inform you that John L. Barry is the only one of Manchester's mayoralty candidates who has a definite platform. He tells us no news when he states that Mr. Barry is a labor candidate, having fought long for the enactment of the 48-hour law, and that in state politics he desires the abolition of the city police commissions. In the city contest, however, Mr. Barry has two projects in mind. The first one

has to do with the establishment of a park at Lake Massabesic. According to his version, there are two bodies of water included under his name. The one which is situated nearer Manchester and upon the bank of which is the pumping station which furnishes Manchester's water supply is the natural outlet of the other, being on a lower level, and having a bog bottom. Mr. Barry would extend the intake of the pumping station across to the other body of water, which he claims would be better adapted as a reservoir, having a sandy bottom, and thus throw open the present reservoir for a public park. He feels that this plan would afford Manchester a better and safer water supply and at the same time afford a beautiful recreation place outside the city accessible to the people of the city, both rich and poor. His other project has to do with the building of a new City Hall containing an auditorium. suitable for the city's requirements, the whole edifice to be a memorial to Manchester's soldiers in the late war. Certain opponents of Mr. Barry claim that

that gentleman has no knowledge of the financial condition of the City Government and of the fact that her present sewerage system will draw upon her revenue for the next twenty years. Nevertheless, we were impressed by the definiteness and clarity of the candidate's views. Moreover, the young man behind the counter proceeded to tell us in glowing terms something of the life of this candidate, of the fact that he was an orphan placed in St. Joseph's School at the age of eleven, that he had forced his way upward without the advantages of education, with all the handicaps of the rather rough environment in which a young cigar-maker works, and of his election and several re-elections to the presidency of N. H. Federation of Labor.

"A man must be strong," said our friend, "to have the entire force of the corporations of Manchester thrown against him at every point in his career and still press forward. They must consider him important to train all their heavy artillery upon him now."

We objected to that last remark, saying that as far as we could see the Amoskeag and other corporations were taking no part in the present campaign. At this remark he rather smiled at our ignorance, and implied that he believed the corporations were secretly helping other candidates. Pressed to be more explicit, he suddenly lost interest in the conversation, and began to arrange plug tobacco in his showcase. Before we left, however, he did murmur something about the fact that Tom Conway had been employed by the Manchester Light & Traction and that Fred Branch was a brother to Judge Branch, evidently the appointment of judges being mixed up with corporations in his mind.

Still proceeding on the basis that the story of the Manchester situation was to be found elsewhere than in the City Clerk's office, we journeyed to the storm center of Manchester politics of the last twenty years. We found the storm center seated in an armchair at police headquarters. Chief Healey told us