November 7. The great day has arrived. It is six-thirty in the evening. The polls are closed. He is awaiting the result phlegmatically. He doesn’t find any real sentiments of patriotism in either side.
The spirit of demagogy everywhere. It is hard for a thinking man and a man who knows the history of our Constitution to drum up much sympathy for either party. Women are voting for the first time in Illinois and it is thought they will go for Wilson on account of Wilson’s peace talk.
The eighth he wrote that he went to bed thinking Hughes was elected. “Imagine my horror to wake up this morning and find the election undecided.” Both sides claim victory. He hopes it won’t end in a dispute like that between Tilden and Hayes. He has answered a letter about the anthology. “See what a good secretary I am.” A letter has come from Eliot Norton thanking me for a copy of The New Republic.
