In one of the oldest Federal buildings, in a colored district of Washington sits a short, neat, ruddy man of 53 with a flowing black tie and crisp-curling grey hair, a man with the air of a preacher or an actor. He is the best hated man in Washington. He once ruled that a traveling Government official could not tip a redcap more than 25ยข for two bags. He refused to honor a $15 Navy Department expense account for an official wreath at a State funeral. He once argued for months with a railroad...
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