Other editions of book Democracy

Excerpt from DemocracyThe words came in florid periods, which rolled fluently from the loose-lipped mouth of the speaker. The good-humoured face, with the jaw of an East End coster; short, pugnacious nose; the shrewd, ln minous-grey eyes, which flickered athwart the packed rows like summer lightning; the burly frankness of the giant of a man in his loosely-caught frock coat all went to make up the genial Buster Bull, financier, newspaper proprietor, sportsman, and People's Cham pron.Denis Destin had seen him a score of times in the same Magog hall, dominating crowds of frightened, angry shareholders even as now he dominated the mass of city men, clerks, little tradesmen, and strug gling professional men, ranged before him, hanging on each period. From where he sat near the plat form, he caught the whitey-pallor and staring eye balls of the faces that resurrected themselves at the trumpet blast of the chairman, feeling that the Judg ment had come, their minds tense with battle.It was after the General Election. Democracy, insistent, blatant, had asserted itself at the polls. Labour sat in force in sacred Westminster. It was the beginning of the end.About the PublisherForgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.comThis book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

Excerpt from DemocracyThe words came in florid periods, which rolled fluently from the loose-lipped mouth of the speaker. The good-humoured face, with the jaw of an East End coster; short, pugnacious nose; the shrewd, ln minous-grey eyes, which flickered athwart the packed rows like summer lightning; the burly frankness of the giant of a man in his loosely-caught frock coat all went to make up the genial Buster Bull, financier, newspaper proprietor, sportsman, and People's Cham pron.Denis Destin had seen him a score of times in the same Magog hall, dominating crowds of frightened, angry shareholders even as now he dominated the mass of city men, clerks, little tradesmen, and strug gling professional men, ranged before him, hanging on each period. From where he sat near the plat form, he caught the whitey-pallor and staring eye balls of the faces that resurrected themselves at the trumpet blast of the chairman, feeling that the Judg ment had come, their minds tense with battle.It was after the General Election. Democracy, insistent, blatant, had asserted itself at the polls. Labour sat in force in sacred Westminster. It was the beginning of the end.About the PublisherForgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.comThis book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

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