In 1907, Bond’s lieutenant, Sir Edward Morris, crosses the House to sit as a Conservative. In 1908, invited to lead the Conservatives against Bond in the election, Morris, to whom the Reids lend their moral support (having by this time been so Wintered by Bond they have no other kind to lend), declines.
Instead, he converts the Conservative Party to the People’s Party. Bond absurdly suggests that it is clear from what he calls the Pee Pee’s manifesto that the People’s Party differs from the Liberal Party only in having Morris as its leader instead of him. In other words, says Bond, the election is a contest between the Liberals and the Liberals and he claims to be unsurprised when it ends in a deadlock, with both parties winning eighteen seats.
Governor William MacGregor calls on Morris to form an administration. Morris accepts. MacGregor dissolves the House. Another election is called. Morris campaigns this time as the leader of the ruling party rather than the leader of the opposition; it is only his confidence that is enhanced by this distinction, not, as Bond asserts, his ability to dispense patronage at will.
Confidence and Morris win the day. Shortly thereafter, the Railway Extension Act is passed. The Reids, by way of token reparation, are asked to build six new branch lines, thereafter known as “the olive branch lines.”
Defeated again in 1913, Bond resigns, spends the rest of his life in sulking seclusion and, in 1918, when there is a bid to bring him back to lead the Liberals, declares: “I have had a surfeit of Newfoundland politics, and I turn from the dirty business with contempt and loathing.”
Despite the, alas, too-numerous-to-mention ways that Morris improves the lives of Newfoundlanders, it is not until the ascension to the prime ministership in 1919 of Sir Richard Squires that Newfoundland turns the corner to prosperity and self-respect.
As we intend to end our history with a postscript selection from Quodlibets, we would like here to thank Sir Richard Squires for the commendation that begins our book. We can think of no one more appropriate, or by whose kindness we could be more flattered, than Sir Richard to commend to the public a book that his record in office has inspired us to write and whose virtues, if any there be, are animated by his own.
We have said “end our history.” But this is in fact but its beginning, the start of its maiden voyage. That it will still be afloat when its rivals are with barnacles encrusted at the bottom of the sea we have no doubt. Nor do we doubt that she will have put in to every port before her day is done.
There, the bottle of champagne smashed against her hull, the blocks removed, she goes sliding down the slip — and Lo, is Launched!