The Silver State

PENCIL PICTURES.
Peculiarities of the Men who Make Laws for Nevada.

Alf. Doten sketches the following admirable pen portraits, which are said to be true to nature, of members of the Legislature, for the Virginia Enterprise:

The Positive man—who knows what he is going to say before he rises to say it, and what he does say is generally sensible, to the point and carries weight.

The Argumentative man—who is eternally rising to points of order, discovering what nobody else cares to, and always ready to oppose somebody.

The Oratorical man—who is always ready to deliver an oration on any subject, regardless of time, patience or presiding forbearance.

The Facetious man—who makes short, pointed speeches, never fails to represent his constituency, and always overrates the solid effectiveness of his remarks.

The Impudent man—who gets up when nobody expects him to, says what he has no business to say, and does not sit down when everybody wants him to.

The Ponderous man—who rises to point out a long considered, serious error in the dog-law, introduced a bill for the eternal propagation of white sage, severely criticises all who opposed the adoption of his resolution relative to the Constitutional Amendments, and sits down wondering why the devil he is not properly applauded.

The Nervous man—who keeps eagerly hitching up and down in his seat, thinking what he wants to say, but getting no chance to say it—and nervously losing the chance even when he has it.

The Practical man—quick of comprehension, ready to introduce or slaughter a bill, sharp in debate, generally correct, and ready to draw the Compiled Laws on his antagonist at any moment with his thumb on the proper section.

The Cautious man—who listens to everybody else, carefully considers, expresses no opinion, and is generally correct in his conclusions.

The Sensible man—what little he ever says is said right, in a few words but his quiet influence is best felt in the committee room, lobby and elsewhere. He knows what buncombe means, but takes no stock in it, and his vote is always recorded on the right side.

The Shrewd man—who twinkles his eyes and tries to look smart. He likes to have the leaders take him out on one side and discuss matters. And he responds in shy, half-whispers, shrewdly agreeing with either side of the proposition. His longest speech in the session will be yes or no, and he always tries hard to vote with the majority.

The Muddled man—who don't understand anything that is being done; in fact, wonders how he came to be elected, and what in thunder he is here for.

The Aggressive man—who naturally gets on the opposite side of everything, and would cinch the infernal railroads out of existence if he could—free passes can't pacify him.

The Reckless man—who bounces either side of any proposition the minute it comes up, flounders around in the argument and consideration thereof, and mentally tosses up a copper as to how he shall vote.

The Miserable man—who wants to distinguish himself somehow as a legislator but can't, and finally is obliged to drop on himself as down among the asses.

The Conceited man—who knows it all and more too. He tries to show it in a drunken speech and only shows his ears. He gets off vulgar little jokes and laughs at them, and verily I say unto you, he is the scrubbiest donkey of them all.

Perhaps the foregoing may not be life-like portraits, or they may, in the critical judgment of a joint convention of both Houses. Anyhow, if each member who recognizes my truthful representation of him will quietly slip me a $20, to tell or not to tell, and his numerous friends and critics among the general public will do the same, I will soon have coin enough to buy a few railroads, or pay off the national debt.