Oai,
 
 Wit and Humor of 
 American Politics 
 
 A COLLECTION FROM VARIOUS SOURCES 
 
 CLASSIFIED UNDER 
 APPROPRIATE SUBJECT HEADINGS 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 
 GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 Copyright, 1903, 
 By GEORGE W. JACOBS & Co. 
 Published, September,
 
 Preface 
 
 THE game of politics, as played the world over, 
 has a perennial and absorbing interest every- 
 where; but especially in these United States, 
 where the humblest citizen is more or less in 
 touch with public affairs, does this interest cul- 
 minate. To some men, the great game is meat 
 and drink, house and home, nay, life itself. 
 Others have bartered name and fame of a cer- 
 tain sort for the sometimes doubtful pleasure of 
 swaying conventions or caucuses. To men of 
 humbler mold, to be a power in ward or in pre- 
 cinct is sufficient reward for any amount of self- 
 sacrifice. Yet others find the political arena the 
 avenue to wealth. 
 
 All of these things are possible to the Ameri- 
 can citizen. More than in any other country 
 does the whirligig of city, state, and national 
 politics enter into and influence the daily life of 
 our people. The displacing of a fourth-class 
 postmaster in some backwoods township may 
 have results as lasting and as far-reaching in 
 their way as the ousting of a member of the 
 president's cabinet. 
 
 3 . 
 
 1510650
 
 4 Preface 
 
 No wonder, then, that there is read with 
 avidity anything and everything relating to our 
 political life. Stories of our public men go to 
 make up a large part of our daily and weekly 
 history. More than once, a happy story or a 
 personal hit has changed the course of events. 
 And no small part of our legislation is shaped 
 on the stump or in the witty foregatherings of 
 the lobby or the committee-room. 
 
 Therefore, these things being so, the compiler 
 of the present volume has no apology to make, 
 believing that any collection chronicling the 
 sayings and doings on the witty and the sunny 
 side of politics, will at least serve to while away 
 an hour that might otherwise be vacant or 
 lonely. 
 
 It only remains to be said that the book is 
 necessarily a compilation. Some of the matter 
 has been culled at first hand; the daily and 
 weekly press has furnished its quota; various 
 repositories of political anecdote and reminis- 
 cence have been laid under contribution; but 
 in many instances it has been impossible to 
 verify the original source of publication. To all 
 these known and unknown contributors to the 
 gayety of what would otherwise be a rather 
 humdrum public life most cordial acknowledg- 
 ments are here made.
 
 Contents 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. CHIPS FROM THE STUMP ... J 
 
 II. NEW STORIES ABOUT LINCOLN . . 48 
 
 III. DANIEL WEBSTER AT HOME . . 58 
 
 IV. LESSONS IN POLITICS 68 
 
 V. THREE POLITICAL EPISODES . . 74 
 
 VI. HAND-SHAKING AS A FINE ART . 80 
 
 VII. MIXED METAPHORS 86 
 
 VIII. " TEDDY " AS A HUMORIST . . 90 
 
 IX. THE TRIALS OF POLITICAL LIFE . 95 
 
 X. THREE INAUGURATIONS .... 99 
 
 XI. THREE OF A KIND 104 
 
 XII. REWARDS OF POLITICAL SERVICE . no 
 
 XIII. THE WONDERS OF TUPELO . . . 122 
 
 XIV. " THE FOURTH ESTATE " . . . 129 
 XV. THE LADIES 133 
 
 XVI. POLITICAL RETORTS 145 
 
 XVII. SOME PERSONAL " APPRECIATIONS " 157 
 
 XVIII. WHAT'S IN A NAME? .... 169 
 
 XIX. STORIES OF ELAINE, McKiNLEY, 
 
 AND INGALLS 173 
 
 XX. CRANKS AT THE WHITE HOUSE . 181 
 
 XXI. THE GAME OF POLITICS IN KANSAS 193 
 
 XXII. "OLEO" 204 
 
 XXIII. FROM THE SOUTH 208 
 
 XXIV. REWARDS OF POLITICS . . . . 213 
 
 5
 
 Wit and Humor of American 
 Politics 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Chips From the Stump 
 
 Campaigning in the Mountains of Kentucky 
 
 NOTHING affords a better opportunity for get- 
 ting acquainted with the shy, reticent inhabit- 
 ants of the Kentucky mountains than political 
 campaigning, especially if that campaigning be 
 local, involving county and district offices. 
 The facts that the mountain counties are very 
 thinly populated and that candidates are num- 
 erous, render the importance of the individual 
 voter very great. Candidates have to do much 
 running about. Your mountaineer is " Your 
 Highness " when it comes to his vote. He does 
 not promise it lightly, and does not give it 
 lightly at the polls. The solid citizen of the 
 mountains looks at all sides of a question before 
 he makes up his mind about it, but his mind 
 once made up, he can never see any call to 
 7
 
 s "Wait anD tumor of Bmerican politics 
 
 change it. The mountaineer never puts himself 
 in the way of a candidate. The candidate must 
 seek him, and must be thoroughly imbued with 
 respect for the might and majesty of the indi- 
 vidual voter. 
 
 In some cases the self-importance of the in- 
 dividual voter amounts to absurdity. For in- 
 stance, not long ago a present county Judge, 
 who was a candidate for reelection, was watering 
 his horse in the ford of a creek, when a lank, 
 loosely built fellow on a saddleless mule came 
 down from the opposite mountain, and turning 
 neither to the right nor the left, rode splashing 
 and plunging straight through the stream, al- 
 most bumping into the gasping, struggling Judge 
 as he passed. 
 
 "Hey there, what you doing?" cried the 
 man with the Judge who was getting his share 
 of the sprinkling. 
 
 " Acrossin' this crick in the ford," drawled 
 the mountaineer. 
 
 "But Lord," cried the other, "you needn't 
 drown people." 
 
 " Hadn't a' been thar, ye wouldn't a' got 
 splattered," returned the mountaineer, un- 
 moved. 
 
 "But you could have ridden over a little," 
 expostulated the other.
 
 lUit an& Ibumor of Bmecican politico 9 
 
 "Hain't never seed no call to git out of a 
 straight road yit," remarked the mountaineer 
 serenely. 
 
 " I suppose of course you know that this gen- 
 tleman you have treated to a shower bath is the 
 Judge of this county ? ' ' 
 
 "Knowed it all the time," admitted the 
 mountaineer, indifferently. " 'Tain't so much, 
 though. I 'low Jedges is made by votin'. 
 Hain't they? I'm a voter me," and a touch 
 of arrogance came into his voice. "Got six 
 boys and ten nephys and three o' my gals got 
 husbands all voters we. That air somethin'. 
 Gee-up, mewl." 
 
 And he disappeared through the low-growing 
 laurel. 
 
 " Pap's " Indifference 
 
 Sometimes an old fellow will take it into his 
 head not to commit himself with regard to his 
 intentions on election day. With such a one 
 the candidate always sees a time. One after- 
 noon a candidate for sheriff rode up to a cabin 
 built high upon the side of a mountain. In 
 answer to the "Hello!" eight shock-headed 
 children came rolling out of the only opening in 
 the side of the house. 
 
 " Where's your father ? " asked the candidate.
 
 10 TRUit and twmor of Bmerican Politics 
 
 Several of the youngsters disappeared around 
 the side of the house at the sound of the voice, 
 but they gave no answer. 
 
 "Your father where is he?" again de- 
 manded the candidate. Still he got no answer. 
 
 " Well, then, where is your pap? " 
 
 "Aw, pap?" A look of intelligence spread 
 over their faces. " He's smokin'." 
 
 "Tell him to come out here, will you ? " 
 
 The remainder of the brood scampered off. 
 Presently a boy stuck his head around the 
 corner of the house. "Pap 'lows he never 
 meanders about when he's a-smokin'. He jest 
 sets an' smokes." 
 
 "Well, is he in the house or out of it?" 
 asked the candidate, politely. 
 
 " Out," was the laconic reply. 
 
 " Do you suppose he will object to our 
 riding around where he is ' settin' ' and 
 a-smokin' ?" 
 
 The boy darted out of sight and soon came 
 back again. " Pap 'lows he ain't holdin' yore 
 horses ? ' ' 
 
 The candidate thought he would risk it, so he 
 went around in the direction taken by the boy. 
 "Pap" was sitting on a log taking long draws 
 from a much-discolored cob pipe. Ordinarily, 
 the mountaineer is the most hospitable fellow in
 
 "Wait and tumor of American politics 11 
 
 the world, but "pap " paid no attention to the 
 candidate. 
 
 "Fine afternoon," remarked the candidate 
 for sheriff. 
 
 " Seed many a one as fine," returned " pap," 
 listlessly. 
 
 "The warm, earthy smell makes a fellow feel 
 like he wants to get hold of his hoe," again 
 tried the would-be sheriff. 
 
 '' Tears like you hain't got hold o' yourn 
 yit," returned "pap." 
 
 The candidate made another effort to be 
 agreeable. " You have a pretty clearing here. 
 I presume you raise fine potatoes and corn." 
 
 "Pap" removed his pipe, spat deliberately, 
 and returned the pipe to his mouth. " 'Tain't 
 a good idee to presoom." 
 
 Seeing that the man disdained to pass the 
 pleasantries of the day, the unlucky candidate 
 plunged at once into politics. " You are inter- 
 ested in the coming primary, I suppose?" he 
 began blandly. 
 
 " Hain't much more sense in supposin' than 
 they is in presoomin'." 
 
 The candidate began to get exasperated. 
 
 "Well, then, leaving supposin' and pre- 
 soomin' out of the question, how do you stand 
 in the coming election ? ' '
 
 12 lUit and fmmor of Bmerican politics 
 
 " Hev stood in water and snow, but never 
 tried standin' in elections," snapped " pap." 
 
 "Well," cried the thoroughly flustered can- 
 didate, "I reckon you know I'm running for 
 sheriff, and I'm here to ask you to vote for me." 
 
 " Pap" cocked his eye at him speculatively. 
 " How do you know you hain't walkin' fer 
 sheriff?" 
 
 This was too much for the candidate, so he 
 got on his horse and rode away without another 
 word. 
 
 Kentucky Hospitality 
 
 At the next place at which the candidate 
 stopped, his reception was typical of the big- 
 hearted mountaineer. The owner of the cabin 
 met the candidate at the fence. "Light and 
 come in! Light and come in!" he cried, 
 delightedly. "Gettin 1 late. You must bunk 
 right here to-night. No, don't say nothin' 
 'bout comin' in unexpected. Had my weather 
 eye open all day fer ye. Tol' the ole woman 
 this mornin' this was fine candidatin' weather. 
 Got plenty dried beans and bacon. Meetin' at 
 the church house to-morrer. Kin see every- 
 body on the crick right thar. Come in. Come 
 in." 
 
 The mountain candidate is himself a most
 
 "Cdlt ano tumor of american politics is 
 
 interesting character. He is usually a wiry, 
 sinewy fellow, with lots of get-up. Purpose 
 dominates him; nothing daunts him in his 
 electioneering, neither rain nor snow nor sleet ; 
 neither the cold shoulder nor the stinging 
 speeches of his opponents. Former defeat only 
 shows him his weak points, and once he goes 
 after an office, nothing but death or some other 
 office ever calls him off. 
 
 Something New in Politics 
 One of the campaign stories that floated 
 through the Senate cloakroom one day, re- 
 lated to Senator Fairbanks, of Indiana, and 
 Governor Shaw, of Iowa. According to the 
 story these two orators were stumping Ken- 
 tucky. After a successful meeting, the Ken- 
 tucky Colonel, who had the two Republican 
 statesmen in charge, invited them into the hotel 
 barroom for some refreshment. 
 
 "What '11 you have?" he asked Senator 
 Fairbanks. 
 
 "A little cold Apollinaris," was the reply. 
 "And you?" said the host to Governor 
 Shaw. 
 
 "I think I will have a glass of buttermilk." 
 The barkeeper turned to the Kentuckian. 
 " What shall I give you, Colonel? " he asked.
 
 14 lUft an> tmmor of Bmerfcan politics 
 
 The Kentucky gentleman heaved a long sigh. 
 "Under the circumstances," he said, "I think 
 you can give me a piece of pie." 
 
 Stumping versus Stumpage 
 
 The state of Michigan has earned the reputa- 
 tion of sending lumber kings to the United 
 States Senate. General Alger was a lumber 
 king when he started on his national career, 
 and the late Senator Stockbridge, who also 
 represented the woody state in the Senate, made 
 his millions through trees. 
 
 But Senator Julius C. Burrows won his posi- 
 tion, not through being a lumber king, but on 
 account of his splendid triumphs on the stump. 
 Born in Pennsylvania, he became a lawyer ; and 
 in the Civil War, was an officer on the Northern 
 side. At the close of the war, he established 
 himself at Kalamazoo, and soon became very 
 popular. 
 
 His district sent him to Congress for nine 
 terms ; he left the lower house and entered the 
 Senate on the death of Senator Stockbridge, to 
 fill out his unexpired term ; and on the con- 
 clusion of the term was reflected, in 1899, for a 
 full six years. 
 
 At a recent dinner-party in Washington at 
 one of the great diplomatic houses, the cost of
 
 Tldit ano Ibumor of Bmerican politics is 
 
 living in that city was a subject of conversation, 
 and diplomats and statesmen alike agreed that 
 one ought really to be independently rich to 
 keep up a prominent social life there. 
 
 "If only we were all lumber kings from 
 Michigan ! " said one diplomat with a sigh. 
 
 "Yes," said Senator Burrows with a smile, 
 ' ' I often realize that I made the mistake of 
 my career by going into stumping instead of 
 stumpage." 
 
 " Parson " Brownlow Objects 
 Among the many good stories told of the 
 eccentric "Parson" Brownlow, military gov- 
 ernor of Tennessee during the Civil War, the 
 following is most characteristic of the " Par- 
 son." Back in the warm days of Whiggery 
 and Democracy, Brownlow was a fiery Whig as 
 well as an ardent Methodist. His peculiar 
 temperament rendered him a banner member of 
 the Church Militant and earned for him the 
 sobriquet of "The Fighting Parson." On this 
 occasion he was assisting at a Methodist re- 
 vival service where they were having what the 
 brethren termed " a refreshing season from the 
 Lord." Religious fervor ran high and the 
 "mourner's bench" was crowded with peni- 
 tents. At the same time some of the services
 
 16 liCUt anO t>umor of Bmerican politics 
 
 verged upon campaign meetings, and political 
 feeling always ran high. 
 
 An aged minister of the Democratic faith was 
 leading in prayer, while "Parson" Brownlow, 
 from the "Amen Corner" gave the responses 
 in the most approved Methodist fashion. After 
 bespeaking the Lord's mercy for the world of 
 sinners, the heathen, and the balance of man- 
 kind, the preacher became more specific in his 
 petitions. 
 
 "Lord, convert the soul of Andrew John- 
 son," he prayed. 
 
 There was some hesitation in the " Parson's " 
 corner, but at length he shouted "Amen," 
 though with manifest reluctance. 
 
 The preacher continued : 
 
 " Lord, convert the soul of Felix Grundy." 
 
 Again the response from the "Amen Cor- 
 ner" wavered, but at last it came, in the 
 nature of a concession. 
 
 Then waxing bolder the wrestler in prayer 
 cried : " Lord, if it be Thy will, convert the 
 whole Democratic Party ! " 
 
 The congregation was startled, and the pray- 
 ing brother somewhat disconcerted to hear 
 in fervent tones from " The Fighting Parson " : 
 
 " God forbid ! It would bankrupt Divine 
 grace and exhaust the plan of salvation ! "
 
 "Cdtt an& l)umor ot Hmerfcan politics 17 
 
 A Remarkable Peroration 
 
 A candidate who was filled to overflowing with 
 prophetic fervor and inspiration, declared in 
 the most grandiloquent manner: "I see a 
 vision float before my eyes it is the car of 
 progress, rolling on in its majesty, gnashing its 
 teeth as it goes." 
 
 This reminds one of a similar flower of 
 rhetoric which graced the speech of a chairman 
 of a meeting when introducing a certain "self- 
 made" candidate: "He may be a rough 
 diamond, but he is a diamond which wears the 
 white flower of a blameless life, and bears aloft 
 in his right hand the torch of truth." 
 
 Changed His Politics 
 
 The late John J. Bagley, during his second 
 successful campaign on the Republican ticket 
 for Governor of Michigan, spoke one evening at 
 Kalamazoo, and at the beginning of his re- 
 marks he alluded frankly to his lack of ora- 
 torical gifts. After he had finished, a man 
 pushed forward, grasped his hand warmly, and 
 said : " Governor, I have been a lifelong 
 Democrat, but at the coming election I shall 
 vote for you." "Thank you," replied the 
 Governor, much gratified; "may I ask the 
 particular reason for your change? "
 
 is "Cdit anD f>umor of Smerican politico 
 
 "Because you are the first speaker on either 
 side in this campaign that I have heard tell the 
 truth. You said when you began that you 
 couldn't make much of a speech, and, by jinks, 
 you can't 1 " 
 
 Ready to Defend His Mother's Character 
 
 A good political campaign story is related in 
 The Sentimentalists. Mrs. Kent, a sort of 
 American " Becky Sharp," tells the story to some 
 magnates whom she has invited to dinner for 
 political reasons : 
 
 "What!" cried Mrs. Kent, "you never 
 heard about O'Brien and the German vote ! 
 You have, Mr. Proudfoot? You have, Mr. 
 Morrison ? Nobody ? Well, well. It's not a 
 very savory story, but this is so nearly a stag 
 dinner that it may pass. 
 
 "In one section of the candidate's district," 
 began Mrs. Kent, "the German vote was 
 decisive. So O'Brien advertised a great 
 Sprechenfest, and chartered an excursion train 
 to the picnic ground. In the afternoon, he 
 gave out prizes he'd provided for the winners of 
 the athletic contests. Then he began his 
 speech. 
 
 "'Ladies and gentlemen,' he said, 'I am 
 pleased and proud to be here as one of you, for
 
 Wit and tmmor of American politico 19 
 
 I feel I am amongst my own people. I am of 
 Proosian blood. My mother was a Schneider.' 
 
 " ' Her name was Hennessy,' called a voice 
 in the crowd. 
 
 " ' The German people are the salvation of 
 the country ! ' shouted O'Brien. ' I am one of 
 them, partly by blood, wholly by inclination.' 
 
 "The next day he spoke in a small mining 
 village composed mostly of Italians. To these 
 he said : ' My name is Irish, but I am an 
 Italian at heart. I glory in the epithet of Dago 
 applied to me as I walk upon the streets. My 
 mother was a Sboretti, and I am proud to be of 
 the blood of your gifted and maltreated race.' 
 
 " ' Your mother was a Hennessy,' came from 
 the voice that had before interrupted. But as 
 before, O'Brien passed it by. 
 
 " Three days later he addressed a camp 
 of laborers on the railroad. They were mostly 
 Hungarians. He said : ' In beginning, permit 
 me to say that my sympathies are with the peo- 
 ple of your blood. Foreign though my name is 
 to your ears, it is my proudest memory that my 
 mother was a Lithuanian peasant woman.' 
 
 " 'By the name of Hennessy,' interjected the 
 familiar voice. 
 
 " ' In this country you begin by being the 
 people of the pick, and you end by being the
 
 20 TMH ano twmor of amerfcan politics 
 
 pick of the people,' continued O'Brien. ' I am 
 proud to count myself one of you, and I hope 
 when it comes to counting, you will each of you 
 count one for me.' 
 
 " O'Brien closed his campaign before a 
 native American audience. ' I am glad to 
 think, though my name is Irish, that my 
 mother was of a good old New England 
 family.' 
 
 "'By the name of Hennessy,' the fateful 
 voice reminded him. 
 
 "This time O'Brien lost his temper at the 
 persecution. 
 
 " ' I'll knock the scoundrel down that says a 
 word against my mother's character,' he roared. 
 ' But if that fellow down there knows her name 
 was Hennessy, then he's the man that was with 
 her when she left me hanging in a basket on 
 Mike O'Brien's door-knob, and I'm ashamed to 
 own him as my dad I'm ashamed to own him 
 as my dad ! ' 
 
 How Honesty and Frankness Won 
 
 If there was one thing characteristic of the late 
 Senator Gear of Iowa, it was his frankness. 
 Senator Dolliver once recalled an instance in 
 which the exhibition of this trait worked to Mr. 
 Gear's advantage.
 
 "edit an& Dumot of Bmcrican politics 21 
 
 Gear was a candidate for Congress. The Pro- 
 hibition sentiment was running high in his dis- 
 trict, and the temperance people concluded to 
 put the candidate through an examination. 
 They held a meeting to which they invited Mr. 
 Gear. He accepted. The chairman of the 
 meeting was a Quaker. 
 
 "We learn," said the Quaker to Mr. Gear, 
 " that thee does not belong to any temperance 
 society, and that thee does take a drink when it 
 pleases thee." 
 
 "That is true," replied Mr. Gear, without 
 any hesitation. 
 
 "Thee is very frank," said the Quaker, "and 
 thy frankness is more to be commended than thy 
 habits. We do not think thee ought to drink, 
 but if thou hadst lied to us, we would not have 
 supported thee. Thee will now receive our 
 votes." 
 
 And Mr. Gear did get their votes. He never 
 forgot the incident and its moral. 
 
 She Wouldn't Say a Word About It 
 
 "The best laid plans of mice and candidates 
 gang aft agley," said a Southwestern member of 
 Congress to a party of talkers on a Pullman, 
 "and I have been a candidate. When I was 
 campaigning for my last reelection I had a forci-
 
 22 Trait ano 1>umor of Bmerlcan politics 
 
 ble, not to say painful, example of it. I was 
 working through the back counties in company 
 with a valuable henchman of mine, and one day 
 I was driving alone across the country in a buck- 
 board to meet him coming by train. It was a 
 lonely way, and in the course of it, I overtook 
 two women walking. One was evidently the 
 mother of the other, and both were extremely 
 rural. Being by nature gallant, and by nomina- 
 tion a candidate, I at once stopped and asked if 
 I couldn't give them a lift. The younger one 
 smiled, the older one hesitated, and both of them 
 looked at each other and at the buckboard with 
 me on the seat. 
 
 "'That's all right,' I hastened to explain; 
 ' either one of you can drive, I guess ? ' 
 
 " ' We kin,' said the older woman, ' but ' 
 
 " 'Then both of you take the seat, and I'll 
 jump up behind,' I interrupted, getting out and 
 waving them to my place with my very best bow. 
 I had been a candidate long enough to know that 
 there was nothing like being polite to the ladies, 
 if a man wanted to keep on the good side of the 
 voters they represented. 
 
 "They got in, and I sat on behind with my 
 feet hanging over, not a very dignified position 
 for a statesman, but candidates do a good many 
 ihings in their efforts to become statesmen, and
 
 "CQlit an& l)umor of Smerican politics 23 
 
 we moved off down the road. I was not pecul- 
 iarly well situated to carry on a conversation, 
 but I was not going to lose any opportunities, 
 and I talked in my best manner, and inciden- 
 tally referred to the fact that I was a member of 
 Congress from that district and a candidate for 
 reelection. The statement seemed to cast a 
 gloom over the community, and the women grew 
 strangely silent, especially the older one. A 
 couple of miles further along, the road forked, 
 and not far ahead, on the fork I was to follow, 
 there was a house, the first one we had come to. 
 The women stopped the horse and began to get out. 
 
 " ' What's the matter ? ' I inquired in surprise. 
 ' Do you take the other fork ? If you do, I'll 
 take you home,' which I thought was doing the 
 handsome in great shape. 
 
 " 'No,' said the elder woman, 'we're goin* 
 the same way you air, but you see we ain't 
 knowed in all the houses we pass, and ther's no 
 tellin' what people'll say if they see us ridin' 
 'round with a Congressman. I reckon it couldn't 
 do no harm to an old married woman like 
 me, but my darter has got ter be pertickler. 
 We air jist as much obleeged to yer though fer 
 the ride you have give us so fer.' 
 
 " ' Oh, don't mention it,' I responded, trying 
 to throw in enough sarcasm to paralyze her.
 
 24 Wit and tumor of Bmerican politics 
 
 " ' Don't be afeerd,' said the mother, missing 
 the sarcasm entirely, 'we won't say a word 
 about it to nobody, shore. ' 
 
 " That ended it for me, and with a parting 
 salutation, and several remarks of a different char- 
 acter made wholly to myself, I drove off leaving 
 them waiting until I was clear out of sight. ' ' 
 
 Depew Took the Hint 
 
 During the campaign of 1900, Senator Chaun- 
 cey M. Depew made an effective tour of New 
 York State. At one of the towns he visited, the 
 enthusiastic Republicans emphasized each good 
 point of his speech with a blast from a cannon. 
 Whenever Depew would hit the Democrats a 
 good square lick between the eyes, the cannon 
 would go " bang." 
 
 The crowd shouted with joy, and Depew, in- 
 spired by the fervor of the audience's enthusiasm, 
 talked and talked. For a moment he happened 
 to pause to get his breath. Across the air from 
 the field where the cannon was stationed there 
 came these words : 
 
 " Captain, when is this old man going to quit? 
 We've only four cartridges left." 
 
 Mr. Depew took the hint. He closed his 
 speech in four minutes.
 
 Trait ano Ibumoc of Hmecican politics 25 
 
 A Shrewd Political Trick 
 
 One of the men who will enter the next Con- 
 gress as a member of the House makes this hon- 
 est confession : 
 
 " You know that my district is too close for 
 comfort. One evening I had a big meeting in a 
 locality where it was a toss-up which party would 
 win out at the polls. I had not lived all my 
 years in the district, but I challenged any man 
 within the hearing of my voice to put his finger 
 on a single act of mine that so much as suggested 
 want of honesty or manliness. 
 
 "A weazened little old chap arose in the back 
 of the room, and in a shrill nasal voice read what 
 purported to be a clipping from a western news- 
 paper, the date being in the early '70*5. In it 
 I was charged with getting all my poultry from 
 a neighbor's chicken coop, with being a Sunday- 
 school superintendent as a blind, and with de- 
 camping between two days with $5,000 of my 
 partner's money. 
 
 "The audience looked black, and muttered 
 ominously. I dramatically called for the clip- 
 ping, and it was brought to me by a young man 
 in the audience while I was denying the accusa- 
 tions in burning language, and branding them as 
 the contemptible products of a desperate oppo- 
 sition.
 
 26 TKUt and tmmor of Bmerfcan Politics 
 
 " I read the article aloud, and then asked for 
 a few hours in which to refute it by telegraphic 
 evidence. Suddenly I braced up, tried the 
 paper between my finger and thumb, held it 
 between me and the light, and jubilantly ex- 
 claimed : ' Gentlemen, I know something about 
 paper, as I'm interested in a factory. This is 
 made from wood fiber, and there were no wood- 
 fiber mills thirty years ago.' 
 
 ' ' Then I scorched and roasted with mighty 
 indignation, until I had the crowd in a frenzy, 
 and it rushed forth to wreak vengeance on my 
 traducer, after a unanimous vote to support me. 
 It was a small town, and they searched house 
 after house, but failed to find their victim." 
 
 "Where was he? " 
 
 "Well, of course they didn't go through my 
 house. The dear old chap was my favorite 
 uncle. Great scheme, wasn't it? " 
 
 Dolliver's Eloquence 
 
 Senator Dolliver of Iowa tells a good cam- 
 paign story on himself. When a member of the 
 House, he was making speeches in his Con- 
 gressional district, and arrived one afternoon at a 
 small town. When he reached the hotel, he dis- 
 covered that the proprietor, an old friend of his, 
 had voluntarily gone to jail rather than pay what
 
 wait ano Dumor of Bmerican politics 2? 
 
 he believed to be an unjust and illegal tax. The 
 hotelkeeper soon learned that Dolliver was in 
 town, and thereupon sent this note to the sheriff : 
 
 "Dear Mr. Sheriff: Please let me out of 
 jail for two hours to hear my friend Dolliver 
 make a speech." 
 
 " The sheriff," says Mr. Dolliver, "was not 
 only an obliging soul, but he was not devoid of 
 humor. He sent an order to the hotelkeeper 
 releasing him from jail for two hours to hear me 
 speak, and then he added : ' The remainder of 
 your punishment is remitted.' ' 
 
 He Clinched His Argument 
 
 " Jim Butler, the big fellow from St. Louis, 
 who had been elected to the House of Rep- 
 resentatives, is the leading character in a good 
 story told out our way," remarked John P. 
 Mackliff, an interesting reconteur from the 
 Mound City, one night at Chamberlain's. " I 
 cannot vouch for the truth of the narrative, but, 
 as it runs, Jim was making a speech to an 
 audience of stock-yard employees, and pro- 
 ceeded in a rich Irish accent to berate Trusts 
 and combinations in trade. 
 
 " ' You must bate the Trusts or they will ate 
 you up,' declared the then candidate for Con- 
 gress, who is really a competent man, possessing
 
 28 TKlit anO twmor of American politics 
 
 plenty of intellect to cope with his future asso- 
 ciates in the House. ' Here yez hev hed the 
 sthreet cars in St. Loois. It used to be that you 
 could ride to the Four Courts for five chits, and 
 thin you pade five cints more to ride to the 
 stock-yards. That was tin cints going and tin 
 cints coming twenty cints a day. Now, phat 
 have they done ? You pay five cints to ride to 
 the Four Courts, where they give yez a red pace 
 of paper that takes yez to the stock-yards for 
 nothing. Five cints going and five cints coming 
 tin cints a day. 
 
 " ' It used to be that you could walk and save 
 twenty cints a day,' continued the St. Louis 
 statesman, preparing to clinch his argument, and 
 speaking with great emphasis, ' but now you kin 
 walk and save only tin cints a day.' " 
 
 A Pathetic Situation 
 
 " Just to show what a little thing will turn the 
 tide, " said an up-state New York politician the 
 other day, "I'll tell you a little yarn about a 
 friend of mine who ran for sheriff of St. Law- 
 rence County and got licked out of his boots. 
 
 " Tom is a big fellow and ordinarily he has 
 a voice like a bull, but when he gets excited that 
 voice just narrows down and runs away into a 
 sickenin* squeak.
 
 TOUt ano twmor of American politics 29 
 
 " Well, Tom stopped one night to address the 
 voters at Ogdensburg, our biggest town, about 
 eleven miles from Canton, the county seat, an' 
 to make a good shovvin' a lot of the boys from 
 Canton came over with a brass band. When 
 the local Democrats heard that we would have 
 a brass band, they got up one, too, but they kept 
 it hid in a barn until Tom should get well 
 under way, when they intended to bring it out 
 an' stop our meetin'. 
 
 " We knew somethin' was in the wind, but 
 we couldn't make out what it was until Tom 
 had got well under way. He was bellerin' out 
 the iniquities of the Democrats, dwellin' par- 
 ticularly on the mean things they'd done to him 
 in the past, when something happened in the 
 barn, an' his speech was punctuated by a big 
 ' Booo Boooo 1 ' from the bass horn. 
 
 "Well, sir, Tom he went to pieces, an' just 
 in the middle of a grand threat he was going to 
 perpetrate on the Democrats on election day, his 
 voice gave clean out, an' left his jaws afa'nnin' 
 the air without givin' forth a sound. To see 
 Tom workin* to resurrect that voice would have 
 melted the heart of a stoic, for it was pathetic. 
 Every muscle in his face writhed till the tears 
 ran down his cheeks. An' one old feller in the 
 crowd sung out :
 
 30 TKUt ano 1>umor of Hmencan politics 
 
 " ' We know they did treat ye pow'ful bad, 
 Tom, but I wouldn't cry about it ! ' 
 
 "That done it. Tom never held his head 
 up again that campaign. An' he got only ten 
 votes in Ogdensburg." 
 
 Senator Vest and the Pigs 
 
 Senator Vest tells a very amusing story on 
 himself, which shows how often, or how oc- 
 casionally, an innocent man must confess guilt 
 to avoid punishment. He was a candidate for 
 the legislature in Cooper County, in 1860, against 
 Thomas McDearmon and Judge Walker. It 
 was a close and exciting canvass, involving, in 
 the daily discussion, the approaching secession 
 and war questions. It was Vest's first candi- 
 dacy for office, although his reputation as an 
 orator was rapidly spreading over Missouri. No 
 one of the three candidates favored secession at 
 that time. Vest was rapidly drifting in that 
 direction. The friends of the candidates had 
 made a personal house-to-house canvass and 
 each claimed the victory. Vest was supposed 
 to be in the lead by the more disinterested can- 
 vassers. A few days before the election a story 
 was put afloat that Vest had stolen three pigs of 
 the value of $6, and they had been found in his 
 pig-sty at his residence in Boonville. Vest said
 
 ano t>umor of amerfcan politics 31 
 
 he was so hard pressed by the charge, and it 
 was doing him so much harm, that he had to 
 come out and acknowledge that the pigs were 
 found in his pen, or else he would be defeated. 
 The crowds were large that attended the daily 
 discussion, and the excitement ran very high. 
 The day before the canvass closed it was well 
 known throughout the county that Vest had to 
 meet the charge in his next speech, either in 
 Boonville or Bunceton, which caused the crowd 
 to be unusually large. The partisans of each 
 candidate were present in great numbers, and 
 seemed so deeply interested that no one could 
 foretell what would be the result. Vest, in that 
 peculiarly happy style of his, was equal to the 
 occasion. He appeared on the hustings in the 
 best of humor and his face was radiant with joy. 
 That silvery voice of his was as clear as a sun- 
 beam. He said that he had two sons that had 
 very much of the trait of many Missourians about 
 them ; that they had traded an old pocket knife, 
 a few cents in money, an old brass ring, and a 
 few other such trinkets, with a " nigger," for the 
 pigs, on the streets of Boonville ; that it was the 
 boys who had put the pigs into his pen without 
 his knowledge ; and that they were the stolen 
 property, and he was ready to pay for them. As 
 soon as this explanation was made, Vest's
 
 32 "uait anD Tbumor of Bmctican politics 
 
 friends gathered renewed strength and made 
 the welkin ring with their shouts. It saved the 
 day for Vest. 
 
 Vest said that had he denied the charge, his 
 opponents stood ready to prove it, and a war- 
 rant was there for his arrest. He said that he 
 cast no reflections upon his children, as there 
 was no father who did not know that his boys 
 would trade all day on a Barlow knife, and for 
 anything, to be trading. This was the com- 
 mencement of Vest's political life. Had he been 
 then defeated, it may be, he never would have 
 become United States Senator, and would never 
 have been known throughout the country as one 
 of its foremost orators and greatest debaters. 
 
 After Vest had told this story, some one said 
 to him : " That was a very good campaign 
 dodge of yours. Now tell me the truth about 
 the pigs." He replied : "I myself had bought 
 them of the nigger, expecting to have a Christ- 
 mas pig for dinner as a jollification after the 
 election." 
 
 Not Hungry for Office 
 
 In Fairfax, Mo., the editor of the Forum, the 
 local newspaper, in a recent campaign, was 
 nominated by the Democrats for justice of the
 
 tdtt and t)umot of Bmerlcan politics 33 
 
 peace. This is the way he announced the fact 
 in his journal : 
 
 "The office was not sought after by us, 
 neither was it forced upon us. There's no 
 mistaking our qualification we know about as 
 much law as a brass monkey. But our friends 
 said they were looking for some good, honest 
 man to make the race. In the face of such an 
 indirect compliment, how could we refuse ? In 
 a race for office we would be a monumental 
 fizzle. We wouldn't ask a man to vote for us 
 if he'd give us half a dollar. Our opponent is 
 M. L. Bear. He's an honest man, too. But 
 he's well fixed financially, and don't need the 
 $4 to $5 a year that's in the office. Neither of 
 us will make an active canvass for votes, so you 
 fellows who expect to smoke our cigars, drink 
 our whiskey, and have fun at our expense, will 
 get left." 
 
 What to Do With the " Phillipayins " 
 
 Major Henry A. Newman, the Missouri Ex- 
 Confederate, was one of those who could spell- 
 bind on all other issues better than he could on 
 the paramount. He got in the way of ignoring 
 the subject which the Kansas City Convention 
 had declared to be vital. One day, during the 
 campaign, Major Newman was down at Poplar
 
 34 DLlit and tbumor of Bmerican politics 
 
 Bluff preaching Missouri Democracy pure and 
 undefiled in his best form, but refraining from 
 any discussion of "the haul-down-the-flag " 
 proposition. Among the Major's auditors was 
 a citizen who marked the omission, and inter- 
 rupted. 
 
 "How about the Phillipayins ? " he asked 
 with a brogue which left no doubt as to his 
 nativity. 
 
 Major Newman continued without appearing 
 to notice the questioner. 
 
 " How about the Phillipayins?" came again 
 at the end of one of the Major's best periods. 
 
 Half a dozen of these interruptions followed 
 with no apparent let-up to the Irishman's per- 
 sistence. 
 
 "My friend," said Major Newman at length, 
 "I'll tell you about the Phillipayins." 
 
 The imitation of the brogue was perfect, and 
 everybody chuckled. 
 
 "I'll tell you, confidentially," said the Major 
 seriously, "what I'm in favor of doing with the 
 Phillipayins. I'd trade the Phillipayins to 
 Great Britain for Ireland, and then we could 
 raise our own policemen." 
 
 Unique Applause 
 Ex-Postmaster-General, Mr. Charles Emory
 
 lUit and Dumor of Bmertcan politics 35 
 
 Smith, made a great record in his four weeks of 
 continuous speech-making during a recent 
 campaign. He spoke for his administration 
 every night, and sometimes twice a day, during 
 that time. He covered the country from Ne- 
 braska to Maine. The best speech he made 
 was an impromptu one at Baker University, in 
 Kansas. The friends who were with him at 
 that time chaff him considerably over it, for 
 they put his inspiration down to a unique 
 cause. 
 
 He was merely a visitor to this fine University, 
 which is Methodistic in its teachings, and where 
 many Methodist ministers, out of active life 
 from old age, spend their closing days. Several 
 of these old ministers were present to meet Mr. 
 Smith when he came sight-seeing to the Uni- 
 versity. The President of the institution begged 
 Mr. Smith to make a speech to the students ; he 
 told the Postmaster-General that he knew it was 
 much to ask of him, as his voice was husky and 
 he had great work before him, but that the 
 students had pleaded so earnestly to have him 
 talk to them, that he hoped he wouldn't refuse. 
 Mr. Smith consented, and in a few moments the 
 word went abroad over the campus, and the 
 chapel had standing-room only. A political 
 speech, pure and simple, Mr. Smith could not
 
 36 TKHtt ano tnimor of Bmerican politics 
 
 give to these young men. But the subtlety and 
 brilliancy with which he really led this great 
 body along on national issues, without once 
 mentioning either Mr. McKinley or Mr. Bryan, 
 imperialism or free silver, was a master- 
 stroke. 
 
 When he began his speech he had no idea of 
 saying more than a few words, but suddenly 
 from the nearest seat an aged minister cried out, 
 "Amen!" A few more sentences and again 
 that "Amen ! " rang out from the chapel. The 
 oftener it sounded, the more impassioned and 
 eloquent and fervent Mr. Smith became. It 
 was the most unique applause ever given to a 
 campaign orator. It was the applause that 
 works a revivalist up to the point of genius, and 
 his friends say that it was the cause of Mr. 
 Smith's inspiration. 
 
 The aged ministers were unconscious that it 
 was unique applause ; the speaker, fired by it, 
 seemed not to think it extraordinary ; members 
 of his political party, standing as onlookers, 
 were keenly delighted at the remarkable 
 scene. 
 
 At every volley of "Amens" the orator be- 
 came more brilliant ; and that is why Mr. Smith 
 is called "the revivalist" by some of his col- 
 leagues.
 
 an& l>umor of Bmerfcan ipolitics 3? 
 
 Mark Twain's Speech 
 
 Only once did Mark Twain appear in public 
 as a political speaker, and that was in the presi- 
 dential campaign of 1880. While visiting in 
 Elmira, N. Y., in the fall of that year, he made 
 a short speech, introducing to a Republican 
 meeting, General Hawley of Connecticut. In 
 the course of his remarks, Twain said : " Gen- 
 eral Hawley is a member of my church in Hart- 
 ford, and the author of 'Beautiful Snow.' 
 Maybe he will deny that, but I am only here to 
 give him a character from his last place. As a 
 pure citizen, I respect him ; as a personal friend 
 of years, I have the warmest regard for him; 
 as a neighbor whose vegetable garden adjoins 
 mine, why why I watch him. As the author 
 of 'Beautiful Snow,' he has added a new pang 
 to winter. He is a square, true man in honest 
 politics, and I must say he occupies a mighty 
 lonesome position. So broad, so bountiful is 
 his character, that he never turned a tramp 
 empty-handed from the door, but always gave 
 him a letter of introduction to me. Pure, hon- 
 est, incorruptible, that is Joe Hawley. Such a 
 man in politics is like a bottle of perfumery in a 
 glue factory it may moderate the stench, but 
 it doesn't destroy it. I haven't said any more
 
 38 "Watt ano t>umor of Bmerfcan politics 
 
 of him than I would say of myself. Ladies and 
 gentlemen, this is General Hawley ! " 
 
 Adlai E. Stevenson's Experiences 
 Adlai E. Stevenson says he was filling an as- 
 signment at a certain place which he does not 
 name. The local chairman had pronounced 
 upon him the finest introduction he had ever 
 been given. The praises were so many and so 
 warmly expressed that Mr. Stevenson says he 
 felt himself growing warm. But just as the 
 chairman was about to conclude, he hesitated, 
 turned to the nominee for vice-president in an 
 embarrassed way, and with a loud whisper 
 asked : " What is your full name ? " 
 
 Another of Mr. Stevenson's experiences oc- 
 curred in southern Illinois. When the candi- 
 date advanced to the front of the platform and 
 began to talk, he soon discovered that a bevy of 
 young women in high spirits had seated them- 
 selves just in front of him. Mr. Stevenson en- 
 deavored to get the attention of his audience, 
 and to impress the dangers of imperialism, 
 militarism, and so on, but the girls giggled and 
 carried on as if the foundations of the Republic 
 were not being sapped. Mr. Stevenson labored, 
 and was beginning to wonder what he would 
 do, when a local leader of the party who was
 
 "CQit and fcumor of Hmertcan politics 39 
 
 sitting on the platform arose, stepped forward 
 and said appealingly : " Gals, won't you keep 
 still and give the old man a chance?" Mr. 
 Stevenson says he turned to the local leader in 
 his most grateful manner and said : "I thank 
 you, sir." 
 
 The Great Unwashed 
 
 Two little human touches are recorded of 
 Roosevelt and of Bryan in their campaigning 
 tours. At a small town a correspondent, ac- 
 companying Roosevelt to the stand from which 
 he spoke, slipped and fell, covering his clothing 
 with red mud. 
 
 " That's where you get your local color," 
 said the governor. 
 
 The Bryan incident occurred at that beautiful 
 little town where Frank Campbell, chairman of 
 the Democratic State Committee, has his home. 
 The reception to Bryan really merited that 
 hackneyed term "a frost." 
 
 As Mr. Bryan and Mr. Campbell returned to 
 their special car, Mr. Bryan remarked: "Now 
 I know, Mr. Campbell, why they call the 
 Democrats 'the great unwashed.' " 
 
 "Why?" said Mr. Campbell, evidently 
 startled. 
 
 "Because there are so few of them at Bath,"
 
 40 laait ano Ibumot of American politics 
 
 replied Bryan with a chuckle at Campbell's 
 discomfiture. 
 
 Governor Thayer and W. J. Bryan 
 
 Ex-Governor Thayer of Nebraska partici- 
 pated in what W. J. Bryan thinks is the best 
 joke on himself in his career. 
 
 Bryan took an active part in the campaign in 
 which Governor Thayer was elected, as a Re- 
 publican, by about 30,000 plurality. He made 
 fifty speeches against Thayer. Consequently, 
 after the election, Bryan was not certain just 
 how Governor Thayer felt towards him. 
 
 At a St. Patrick's Day celebration in Lincoln, 
 Governor Thayer was put down for an oration. 
 Governor Thayer did not have a printed pro- 
 gramme, and depended upon the secretary of a 
 civic organization to tell him the parts as they 
 came. 
 
 The programme was varied, there being 
 speeches, recitations, and songs. When Bryan's 
 number was reached, the secretary leaned over 
 and whispered in Governor Thayer 's ear, "W. 
 J. Bryan." 
 
 Governor Thayer arose and Bryan advanced 
 towards him. The former seemed most cordial, 
 and it pleased Bryan to think that the Governor 
 was not harboring any malice because of those
 
 TDttlit anfc t)umor of Hmcrfcan politics 41 
 
 campaign speeches made against him. Gov- 
 ernor Thayer shook Bryan's hand warmly, as he 
 asked softly : 
 
 " Do you sing or speak? " 
 
 Benton's Passage at Arms 
 To show the danger and bitterness of the 
 great Benton and anti-Benton contest, the fol- 
 lowing is pertinent : When Benton was a lad 
 attending Chapel Hill University in North Caro- 
 lina, a story was started to the effect that he 
 stole some money and hid it in his cravat. 
 Notwithstanding his long and conspicuous ca- 
 reer on the national stage, nothing could kill 
 that story. 
 
 He and his friends always denied the truth 
 of the tale, and the perfect rectitude of his long 
 life in both public and private affairs is proof 
 positive that they were right. If he had been 
 dishonest or corrupt, his opportunities for amass- 
 ing a fortune by prostituting his high office to 
 base purposes would have made him rich beyond 
 the dreams of avarice ; but he died poor 
 which is the best evidence of his honesty. 
 Nevertheless, the legend of his alleged indiscre- 
 tion dogged his steps always. 
 
 When Benton made his " Appeal to the Peo- 
 ple," the "Antis" carried around as an elec-
 
 4-2 Tldtt ano ibumor, of Hmerican politics 
 
 tioneering document, a fine life-size portrait of 
 the great Senator with the end of a ten-dollar 
 bill protruding from the corner of his old-fash- 
 ioned stock. That was in the good old times 
 " befo' de wah." Has anything more cruel or 
 vicious been done in these degenerate days ? 
 
 Benton utterly despised his opponents and 
 persecutors and they were legion. Among 
 them was one of greater intellectual force than 
 Benton himself, James Stephen Green, subse- 
 quently a Senator of the United States. He is 
 the man who effectually answered Stephen A. 
 Douglas on the Lecompton Constitution ques- 
 tion. Benton haughtily refused to hold debate 
 with Green or any of the rest of them. He 
 would make his appointment, deliver his speech, 
 full of gall and wormwood, aquafortis and 
 Greek fire, then, gathering up his papers, he 
 would hasten from the room. But always some 
 one of his opponents was present to take ad- 
 vantage of the crowd which he had gathered, 
 and to address it. 
 
 On one occasion Green opened upon him so 
 ferociously and so suddenly that Benton stopped 
 in the doorway, shook his clenched fist at Green 
 and roared: "It is written, 'Thou shalt not 
 bear false witness against thy neighbor ! ' ' 
 
 Quick as a flash, and in reference to the
 
 anfc Ibumor of Bmcrican politics 43 
 
 Chapel Hill money story, Green replied : "It 
 is also written, 'Thou shall not steal!'" I 
 doubt if the annals of American stump oratory 
 furnish a parallel to that passage at arms. 
 
 His Second Choice 
 
 Even persons in the audience would jaw back 
 at "The Great Misseurian," as Benton was 
 universally called. Once he was speaking, on a 
 lovely day in October, in a magnificent grove 
 in Rails County. A substantial farmer, John 
 Hawkins, nicknamed "Honest John," was 
 lying on the luxuriant blue grass under the 
 shade of a tree In the middle of the Senator's 
 speech Hawkins jumped up, waved his hat, and 
 shouted: "Hurrah for Colonel Benton ! He 
 has been my second choice for Governor of 
 Missouri for thirty years ! ' ' 
 
 Colonel Benton stopped, and with great ur- 
 banity inquired : " May I ask who has been 
 your first choice?" 
 
 " Honest John " yelled : " Any man to beat 
 Colonel Benton ! " 
 
 A Queer Experience 
 
 Curtis Guild, Jr., of Boston, who was assist- 
 ant orator on the Roosevelt campaign trip 
 through the West, had many queer experiences
 
 44 "mit anJ> tmmor of Bmerfcan politics 
 
 with local chairmen who didn't know him. 
 Once he was introduced to the audience as " the 
 first man in the noble codfish state of Massa- 
 chusetts to volunteer for the Spanish War, and 
 the first man of Shafter's victorious force to 
 scale the walled gates of Havana." What he 
 relished the most, however, was this introduc- 
 tion : " Fellow-Citizens, I have the proud 
 honor to introduce to you a man who has ac- 
 companied Governor Roosevelt from counting- 
 room to battle-field, a man whose fame is so 
 widespread that I need hardly introduce him, a 
 man whose name is a household word through- 
 out the great Eastern States " a slight pause, 
 and the chairman bends a little towards Mr. 
 Guild and in a stage whisper : " Say, what the 
 deuce is your name, anyway? " 
 
 He Buttered His Watermelon 
 In a certain campaign, Col. George W. 
 Anderson, a man of splendid genius and rare 
 oratorical gifts, was stumping for Greeley and 
 Brown down in southwest Missouri. One night 
 in the midst of his speech, an old fellow arose 
 in the back of the house and said : 
 
 " Colonel Anderson, is it true that Governor 
 Brown was so drunk at that Yale Alumni dinner 
 that he buttered his watermelon ? "
 
 IClit anD tumor of Hmerican politics 45 
 
 Colonel Anderson reared back on his pastern 
 joints, straightened himself to his six feet two, 
 and with a lion's roar answered : 
 
 " Yes, it is true that Governor Brown buttered 
 his watermelon at the Yale Alumni dinner, and 
 I am happy to inform you that that is the only way 
 in which watermelons are eaten in polite so- 
 ciety." 
 
 Anderson's happy retort was greeted with a 
 shout of laughter and a roar of applause by his 
 auditors. His interrogator sat down discom- 
 fited, and that was the last ever heard of the 
 story of the buttered watermelon. 
 
 Took No Interest 
 
 Representative Cannon began his political ca- 
 reer by running for State's attorney in his town. 
 His opponent was another young lawyer, who, 
 like Cannon, had not made much headway in 
 the practice of law, but both candidates went 
 upon the stump and promised to do great things 
 if elected. 
 
 One day, as the rival candidates went down 
 the street together, they were joined by the 
 Judge of the court. He stepped in between 
 them, taking each young man by the arm. 
 
 "What are you boys making all this fuss 
 about ? " he queried.
 
 46 "Emit anC> Ibumor. of Bmertcan Politics 
 
 " We want to be State's attorney," they re- 
 plied in unison. 
 
 " Well," said the Judge, laughing, " I ought 
 to take some interest in the matter, but I don't. 
 No matter which one of you is elected, there 
 will be no criminals sent to jail." 
 
 Cannon, telling the story, says that he was 
 elected ; but whether it was because he was 
 the best or the poorest lawyer, he has never been 
 able to tell. 
 
 Preferred His Coffee Cold 
 
 Senator McCreary of Kentucky was a fine 
 campaigner. When he went the rounds of his 
 district, he kissed all the babies, praised the 
 cooking of the housewives, judged the cattle of 
 the farmers, and adapted himself to all circum- 
 stances. One night he drove up to the house 
 of a farmer to stop all night, but arrived after 
 the supper hour. The good woman of the 
 house insisted on getting him a supper, but he 
 resisted, and said that he would take anything 
 cold that she had. 
 
 She told him she had some cold ham and 
 cold biscuits, and would warm the coffee. 
 
 "Never mind warming the coffee, madam," 
 said McCreary, " I prefer it cold." Next morn- 
 ing at breakfast, the good lady handed him a
 
 cup of sickly looking liquid, saying, " Gov- 
 ernor, you seemed to enjoy the cold coffee so 
 much, I saved some for your breakfast." 
 
 Yes or No 
 
 The efforts on the part of members of the 
 House to pin one another down to direct answers 
 reminded Representative Capron of Rhode Is- 
 land one of the best story-tellers in the House, 
 by the way of an experience in the last cam- 
 paign. Mr. Capron was very much bothered 
 while making a speech, by a man in the audience 
 who insisted on asking questions to which he 
 demanded either " yes " or " no " for an answer. 
 
 "But there are some questions," finally re- 
 marked Mr. Capron, "which cannot be answered 
 by ' yes ' or ' no ! ' " 
 
 " I should like to hear one," scornfully com- 
 mented his annoyer. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Capron, " I think I can 
 prove it. Have you quit beating your wife ? 
 Answer ' yes ' or 'no.' " 
 
 The crowd saw at once that Mr. Capron had 
 the man in a trap. If he said "yes," it was a 
 confession that he had been beating his wife, if 
 he said " no," it was an admission that he was 
 still indulging in the pastime.
 
 CHAPTER II . 
 New Stories About Lincoln 
 
 He Liked Gingerbread 
 
 Among the thousands of stories that have 
 been told of Abraham Lincoln inveterate story- 
 teller though he was, and despite the fact that 
 he always had an anecdote to suit every situa- 
 tion pat, there must be hundreds of which he 
 was entirely guiltless. And among the chaff, it 
 is very difficult to detect the genuine Lincoln 
 article. But here are a few that bear the 
 unmistakable stamp of veracity. 
 
 " One day an old friend of Lincoln's stood 
 by him in the East Room of the White House 
 as the throng passed by. When it was over, 
 Lincoln asked his old friend to dinner. During 
 the courses the old friend said : 
 
 "'Abe, it seems to me you ought to have 
 more pleasure than any man I ever saw/ 
 
 " For a moment a shadow came over the face 
 of the President. 
 
 " ' It does look that way to some,' he replied. 
 ' But your remark recalls an incident in my 
 48
 
 TKlit ano twmor of American politics 49 
 
 boyhood which will illustrate my feelings and 
 situation. My mother used to bake a lot of 
 gingerbread every Saturday to last the family 
 over Sunday. She always managed to have 
 enough dough left over to make a lot of 
 "ginger-bread babies," as she called them. 
 These she handed out to me. 
 
 " 'I had a playmate a freckled, red-headed 
 boy, who always came over to my house on Sat- 
 urdays. We went out into the barn, and he 
 used to fill himself up on my gingerbread babies 
 until he got sick. I said to him one day : 
 
 "'"Jimmy, you seem to like gingerbread 
 mighty well." 
 
 "'Between swallows he replied: "Abe, I 
 reckon I do like gingerbread better than any 
 boy you ever knew in all your born days. And 
 Abe, I reckon I get less of it than any boy you 
 ever knew." ' " 
 
 Had His Eye on It 
 
 In the Presidential campaign of 1856, the 
 Democrats in the West made an effective point 
 by contrasting Mr. Buchanan's long public 
 career as a Senator, Secretary of State, and 
 Minister to England with General Fremont's 
 limited experience, consisting of a service of 
 twenty-one days in the United States Senate.
 
 50 TMllt and twmor of Hmerican politics 
 
 In the great campaign of 1860, they tried the 
 same tactics, which had proved so successful, to 
 disparage Mr. Lincoln. He had served but 
 a single term in Congress, while Senator Doug- 
 las had for many years enjoyed a national 
 reputation. 
 
 This point was urged in a heated discussion, 
 overheard, between an ardent supporter of 
 Senator Douglas, and a German voter who 
 favored Mr. Lincoln. The former finally 
 thought to overwhelm his opponent by saying : 
 
 "Who is this Lincoln, anyhow? Nobody 
 ever heard of him until Senator Douglas 
 brought him into notice by holding joint 
 debates with him. Senator Douglas, on the 
 other hand, is a great statesman. Why, he has 
 had his eye on the Presidential chair for the last 
 ten years." 
 
 "Vot is dot you say?" was the reply. 
 " You say Meester Dooglas have had hees eye 
 on the Presidential chair for ten years? " 
 
 " Yes, that is just what I said." 
 
 "Veil, you shoost tell Meester Dooglas eef 
 he keep hees eye on dot chair shoost a leedle 
 vile longer, he vill see old Abe Lincoln sitting 
 down in it." 
 
 That closed the debate, amid a roar of laugh- 
 ter from the bystanders.
 
 anO Dumot ot Bmerican politics 51 
 
 A Wise Weather Prophet 
 When Mr. Lincoln was President, he was 
 visited by three influential Indiana politicians. 
 These gentlemen were gunning for spoils, and 
 with a view to relieving the President of routine 
 toil, had thoughtfully prepared their "slate," 
 and duly subscribed to its provisions. One 
 gentleman a resident of Indianapolis was 
 listed for Postmaster; another hankered to be 
 United States Marshal ; the third would be 
 content should the ermine of a Federal judge- 
 ship fall gently upon him. 
 
 The politicians, having been presented to the 
 President, indulged in a few commonplace re- 
 marks, then unwrapped their " slate," and 
 placed it before the Chief Executive with a 
 calm assurance. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln received their overtures with his 
 customary complacency, remarking that the ap- 
 plications would be promptly filed, together 
 with subsequent letters and endorsements, with 
 the department under which each properly 
 belonged, and, while the three men from 
 Indiana were yet struggling to regain their feet, 
 the President, in his blandest style, observed 
 that the incident recalled a story he had once 
 heard, and, without waiting for a request, pro- 
 ceeded to unfold the tale.
 
 52 Ifilit anfc Ibumor of American politics 
 
 It appears that an Oriental potentate main- 
 tained upon the royal pay-rolls a functionary 
 known as the Imperial Wise Man. It devolved 
 upon this wise man, among other things, to 
 forecast and prophesy, heading off dire proba- 
 bilities, and placing his sovereign in possession 
 of valuable advance information. 
 
 Upon a certain occasion, the potentate gave 
 notice to the Imperial Wise Man that it was de- 
 sired to indulge in a royal hunt, and conse- 
 quently important to ascertain accurately the 
 prospective climatic conditions. The Wise Man 
 retired for a couple of hours, during which 
 time he consulted numerous charts and maps, 
 and made many figures and calculations, finally 
 appearing before his Majesty with a well-defined 
 prophecy : the weather would be propitious 
 during the ensuing three days. 
 
 Thereupon the potentate, with his lords and 
 ladies and heralds and a retinue of servants, all 
 clad in gorgeous apparel, gold trappings, and 
 fine linen, set forth towards the hunting pre- 
 serves, some hours distant. Along about noon, 
 when perhaps half the distance had been ac- 
 complished, the royal cavalcade suddenly came 
 upon a jackass plodding along, bearing upon 
 his back a peasant in coarse raiment. The 
 countryman, perceiving the evidence of royalty,
 
 TJCUt and fjumor ot amertcan politics 53 
 
 quickly slipped from the back of the jackass, 
 and, prostrating himself in the dust, said : 
 
 "Most noble and august potentate, return 
 without delay to your castle ; a mighty storm is 
 about to fall upon you, and your purple robes 
 and fine linen and magnificent trappings, and 
 those of your lords and ladies and suite, will be 
 ruined, and you will be drenched to the skin ; 
 return at once, O King, return." 
 
 The King and his court beheld a cloudless 
 sky, and laughingly proceeded on their way, 
 while the servants mercilessly gibed at the poor 
 countryman, who desisted not in his protestations. 
 Within an hour, a terrific storm arose ; rain fell 
 in torrents, and the wind blew with great violence, 
 and, being without shelter, the King and his 
 lords and ladies and servants were soaked to the 
 skin, and their fine trappings and rich apparel 
 utterly ruined. Crestfallen and in bedraggled 
 garments they put back to the castle with all 
 speed. 
 
 The Wise Man was called before his King, and 
 made a sorry mess of his explanation. Of course, 
 he was discharged, and narrowly escaped with 
 his neck. 
 
 Thereupon the potentate summoned the coun- 
 tryman who had foretold the storm, informed him 
 he might consider himself duly initiated as Im-
 
 54 TKHit anO t>umor of Bmerican politics 
 
 perial Wise Man, and made the appointment 
 public by special proclamation. The peasant re- 
 ceived his appointment in a dazed sort of way, 
 escaped from the royal presence in rather bad 
 form, drew his stipend regularly thereafter, but 
 made no drafts upon his occult powers. 
 
 One day, some weeks later, the King called 
 the Wise Man to his chamber, and administered 
 a mild rebuke to the latter for his failure to prog- 
 nosticate, asking him incidentally, what he sup- 
 posed he was drawing a fat salary for. 
 
 The peasant protested that he could not meas- 
 ure up to such responsibility ; that he 
 couldn't prophesy fifteen minutes ahead on 
 the weather or anything else, and then and 
 there tendered his resignation to take imme- 
 diate effect. 
 
 " But did you not foretell accurately the terri- 
 ble storm that drenched the royal party, and 
 ruined our trappings and best clothes ? " inquired 
 the King. 
 
 "Oh, no, mighty King," responded the peas- 
 ant, " it was not I who foretold the storm ; it was 
 the jackass. He it is, who, by some mysterious 
 gift of discernment, is able to foretell the storm, 
 and in token thereof, he has a peculiar way of 
 folding back his ears. I merely voiced to your 
 Majesty in words, what my faithful jackass ex-
 
 lUit ano Ibumor of Smcrican politics 55 
 
 pressed to me in his own picturesque and silent 
 way. ' ' 
 
 Whereupon the countryman's resignation was 
 accepted, the jackass was duly installed as Im- 
 perial Wise Man, and a royal decree to this effect 
 was sent forth. 
 
 " And, would you believe it? " observed Presi- 
 dent Lincoln, with a sly twinkle in his eye, " as 
 soon as that proclamation became public, every 
 jackass in the kingdom wanted an office." 
 
 Knew at Last What to Say 
 A new story of Lincoln was told at the semi- 
 annual dinner of the Delaware Valley Society 
 of the State of New York. The author of the 
 story was the venerable Benajat G. Jayne, who, 
 during the most of the civil war, was the personal 
 assistant of Edwin M. Stanton, the famous War 
 Secretary. One day Lincoln sent for Jayne to 
 come to the White House. " My boy," said 
 he, "there is a letter I would like to have you 
 look at." Jayne picked up the letter and found 
 it was from General Dix. It conveyed the in- 
 formation that several Federal prisoners had es- 
 caped from Libby prison with the aid of Abbie 
 Green, a woman famous during the war. The 
 letter also said, that as the fact of Abbie's assist- 
 ance was well-known, she had been obliged to
 
 56 licw anfc tumor of amerfcan politics 
 
 flee from Richmond, and even then, was on her 
 way to Washington on the flag-of-truce boat. 
 
 " Now, my boy," said the President, " I don't 
 know what I should say to any rascal who would 
 steal that letter, and have a bill passed through 
 Congress to grant $10,000 to the relief of Abbie 
 Green." Mr. Jayne "stole the letter," and the 
 next day, both branches of Congress passed the 
 bill to grant $10,000 to Abbie Green. The fol- 
 lowing morning, " Honest Abe" sent for Jayne 
 again. " I told you I didn't know what I should 
 say," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "to the 
 rascal who would steal that letter, and have Con- 
 gress act on it. Now, I've made up my mind 
 
 what to say. You go down to No. Street, 
 
 get Abbie Green, take her down to Chase at the 
 Treasury, and don't you let her go until she gets 
 that money." 
 
 A Novel Application 
 
 The following application of Lincoln for a rail- 
 way pass is worth preserving : 
 
 " Springfield, Feb. 12, 1856. 
 " R. P. Morgan, Esq., 
 
 " DEAR SIR : Says Tom to John, ' Here's your 
 old rotten wheelbarrow. I've broke it usin' on 
 it. I wish you would mend it, case I shall want 
 to borrow it this afternoon.' 
 
 " Acting on this as a precedent, I say, ' Here's
 
 TJCltt an& Ibumot of Bmerican politics 57 
 
 your " old chalked hat." I wish you would take 
 it, and send me a new one, case I shall want to 
 use it on the ist of March.' 
 
 " Yours truly, 
 
 " A. LINCOLN." 
 
 The application is to the Chicago & Alton 
 Railway, of which Lincoln was then an attorney.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 Daniel Webster at Home 
 
 His Treatment of Servants 
 
 It was one of the noblest traits of Daniel Web- 
 ster's character, that he never treated the men 
 who worked for him as menials. For Porter 
 Wright, who served him for many years, he al- 
 ways entertained the highest regard. Wright 
 was a constant companion in his hunting and 
 fishing excursions. Probably no man living 
 knows so much about the inner life of Webster, 
 of his habits and disposition as Mr. Wright, and 
 it was from his lips that I learned many of the 
 facts I shall relate. 
 
 The old man was chopping wood when I 
 reached his house, but on learning my errand, 
 replied in cheery tones : 
 
 "Come in, come in. Ah, yes, Mr. Webster 
 was a grand man, and we will never see his like 
 again. He left a gap in Marshfield that can 
 never be filled." 
 
 It didn't seem to occur to his honest soul that 
 the death of Webster left a gap in the entire 
 58
 
 and twmor of Bmerican politics 59 
 
 nation that never could be filled. To his sim- 
 ple mind, the public life of Webster was a mat- 
 ter of secondary importance to Webster as a 
 farmer, a fisherman, and a boon companion. 
 From him I learned more of Webster's home 
 life, and of his character as a man than from all 
 the histories and biographies that have ever been 
 written. He assured me that a man of more 
 simple habits never lived. For style he cared 
 absolutely nothing. In his dress about home, 
 he could not be distinguished from any of his 
 farmer or fishermen neighbors. Rarely did he 
 wear a collar. An old slouch hat covered his 
 head, and his trousers were always tucked in- 
 side of his boots. 
 
 It was only when he removed his hat, show- 
 ing the massive proportions of his brain, that 
 you realized that you were standing in the pres- 
 ence of a mighty genius. When Thorwaldsen, 
 the great Danish sculptor, saw his bust in the 
 studio of Powers, at Rome, he exclaimed : 
 " Ah ! a new design of a Jupiter, I see." He 
 could hardly be persuaded that it was the actual 
 head of a living American. 
 
 Webster's Hospitality 
 
 Every man, woman, and child in the neigh- 
 borhood had full run of Webster's house, from
 
 cellar to garret. Of children he was particu- 
 larly fond. Children who were strangers to him 
 would nestle in his arms as readily as those who 
 were familiar with his features. Whenever a 
 man came in, the first thing he did was to open 
 the sideboard, take down the old decanter, and 
 pour out a glass of brandy. If the visitor drank, 
 he was doubly welcome ; if he refused, Webster 
 appeared less cordial. 
 
 Politics Tabooed 
 
 " No human being could induce him to say 
 a word about politics here. It was a tabooed 
 subject. If any one mentioned politics, his 
 brow darkened in an instant. 
 
 " Farming, fishing, horses, cattle, pigs, and 
 hens, these were his favorite themes. He 
 knew every one of his cattle by name as well as 
 he knew the names of his brother senators. Of 
 his garden he was very proud, and here he 
 would spend a portion of each day, pulling 
 weeds and hoeing vegetables." 
 
 Turnip Seeds 
 
 A young lawyer of the village once came and 
 asked Webster what he had better study to
 
 lUit and Dumor of American politics ei 
 
 build himself up in his profession. "Turnip 
 seeds," was the laconic reply. 
 
 The disciple of Blackstone followed his ad- 
 vice. He studied up everything that bore upon 
 the subject of turnips, until he became a master 
 of the principles of that vegetable. A year or 
 two afterwards, a neighboring farmer originated 
 a new turnip, from the sale of whose seed he 
 expected to make a fortune. Another neighbor 
 began to raise and sell the same seed, and a 
 lawsuit resulted. The originator of the seed 
 came to retain Webster to prosecute the case. 
 Webster replied : 
 
 "I am not as well booked up on turnips as I 
 ought to be, but there is a young fellow over at 
 the village who knows all about them. Go and 
 get him. He will win your case." 
 
 The farmer posted off and engaged the other 
 man. When the trial came off, the lawyer as- 
 tonished judge, jury, and audience by his pro- 
 fount! learning on the subject of turnips. The 
 case was triumphantly won, and the young 
 lawyer started on the road to fame and fortune. 
 
 Need of Keeping Accounts 
 Webster's sense of humor was infinite. On 
 one occasion a man presented a bill to him for 
 payment. "Why," said Webster, "I have
 
 62 "wait an& f>umor of Bmerican politics 
 
 paid that bill before." The neighbor assured 
 him that he was mistaken. "All right, then; 
 call again in the morning, and I will settle with 
 you." 
 
 As soon as the man was gone Webster called 
 his son, Fletcher, and told him to look over his 
 papers and see if he could not find a receipted 
 bill. To the surprise of both, two receipted 
 bills were found, showing that the bill had been 
 paid twice. Webster put the receipts in his 
 pocket and said nothing. 
 
 In the morning the neighbor returned for the 
 money. Webster took his seat under the old 
 elm, and ordered Wright to bring out the de- 
 canter. Filling the glass to the brim, he 
 handed it to the man and told him to drink. 
 Webster then began : 
 
 " Mr. Blank, do you keep books? " 
 
 The man assured him that he did not. 
 
 "Then I would advise you to do so," said 
 Webster, and pulling one of the receipts from 
 his pocket handed it to him. 
 
 The man was covered with confusion, while 
 Webster continued : 
 
 "And while you are about it you had better 
 get a bookkeeper who understands double en- 
 try !" at the same time handing him another 
 receipt. "Now," said Webster, " I am going
 
 tutt and t>umor of Bmerican politics 63 
 
 to pay this bill just once more ; but I assure 
 you, upon my word of honor, that I will not 
 pay it the fourth time 1 " 
 
 Fisherman's Luck 
 
 The one great pastime that Webster enjoyed 
 in Marshfield was fishing. For hours he would 
 wander up and down the streams and across the 
 meadows. As a rule, however, his was " fisher- 
 man's luck." It was rarely that he caught a 
 fish, unless by its own carelessness, it became 
 entangled on the hook and couldn't escape. 
 The fish would nibble all the bait from the hook 
 without his ever pulling the line from the water. 
 
 A Peculiar Habit 
 
 When a little way ahead or behind, he was 
 always muttering to himself, and many of his 
 grandest speeches were composed while on these 
 excursions. On his return, he would always 
 throw himself under the old elm tree in the 
 dooryard and enjoy a short nap while resting 
 from his fatigue. 
 
 Christening the Plow 
 
 On my rising to leave the house, Mr. Wright 
 placed his hands upon my shoulders and said :
 
 64 lUit an> twmor of American politics 
 
 11 Would you like a story that has never be- 
 fore appeared in print? " 
 
 I assured him that nothing would please me 
 better. 
 
 "Well, I have told you that Mr. Webster 
 would never speak on politics when here, but he 
 would talk to the assembled neighbors and 
 guests on matters pertaining to farming. On 
 one occasion, some Boston friends presented 
 him with an enormous plough to use on his 
 farm. Webster gave out word that on a certain 
 day it would be christened. The day arrived, 
 and the farmers, for miles around came to wit- 
 ness the event. A dozen teams with aristocratic 
 occupants came down from Boston. It was ex- 
 pected by every one that Webster would make 
 a great speech on the occasion, reviewing the 
 history of farming back to the time when Cin- 
 cinnatus abdicated the most mighty throne in 
 the world to cultivate cabbages in his Roman 
 garden. 
 
 "The plough was brought out, and ten yoke 
 of splendid oxen were hitched in front. More 
 than two hundred people stood around on tiptoe 
 of expectation. Webster soon made his appear- 
 ance. He had been calling spirits from the 
 vasty deep, and his gait was somewhat uncer- 
 tain. Seizing the plough handles and spreading
 
 lUit ano Dumoc of Hmcrican politics 66 
 
 his feet, he yelled to me in his deep bass 
 voice : 
 
 ' ' ' Are you ready, Wright ? ' 
 
 "'All ready, Mr. Webster,' was the reply, 
 meaning of course for the speech. 
 
 " Webster straightened himself up by a 
 mighty effort and shouted : 
 
 "'Then let her rip ! ' 
 
 "The whole crowd dropped to the ground 
 and roared with laughter, while Webster, with 
 his big plough, proceeded to rip up the soil. 
 This same plough can now be seen on top of the 
 Faneuil Hall market, in Boston, and is a con- 
 spicuous object for miles around." 
 
 A Little Souvenir 
 
 " Would you like to have a little souvenir of 
 your visit to Webster's home?" asked Mr. 
 Wright, as the writer was about to leave. 
 " Here, come with me, and I will give you 
 something. Look in this old trunk and see this 
 pile of letters that he wrote to me from Wash- 
 ington. I treasure them very highly, but you 
 shall have one. Take your pick." 
 
 Here was a find, indeed. I rummaged the 
 letters over, and finally selected one that I con- 
 sidered most characteristic of the man. It was 
 about farming and cattle. It also puts a new
 
 66 "CCM and Ibumor of Bmcrican politics 
 
 light on his character as a debtor. It is well 
 known that he was a poor financier, and the 
 great public believes that he didn't want to pay 
 his debts ; that he had no desire to do so. This 
 letter, written from the Senate chamber, shows 
 conclusively that he was willing to sell anything 
 to pay debts. For this reason it is a letter of 
 great historical value. It corrects public mis- 
 conception of his character. It read as follows : 
 
 "Washington, Feb. 2d, '58. 
 
 "PORTER WRIGHT: Mr. Weston will hand 
 you $100, and I will try to send you some more 
 soon. 
 
 "I have no objection to parting with the 
 Ames steers, or the Hazeltine, or both, for 
 money to pay debts, at a fair price ; but I do 
 not care about exchanging with Mr. Delano. 
 The offer you have made ($15) is enough I 
 would not give any more. Mr. Ames may take 
 the Brown oxen indeed, I would sell almost 
 anything to pay debts. But everything seems 
 low. 
 
 "If you do not trade with Mr. Delano, we 
 will fatten the mountaineers, and look up 
 something else for beef, next month, when I 
 come home. If we keep the white-faced oxen, 
 the black and red steers, the large Durham 
 steers, and the jumpers, we shall do pretty well 
 for teams, though another pair for Fletcher's 
 barn might be useful. The Locke oxen, per- 
 haps, might go there.
 
 limit anJ> tmmor of Bmerican politics 67 
 
 " I have written Mr. Stevens, of the Revere 
 House, about the potatoes. He will write for 
 what he wants. I will take Mr. Sampson's. 
 How is it about ice ? 
 
 " Please write me once a week. 
 "Yrs., 
 
 "DANIEL WEBSTER."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 Lessons in Politics 
 
 No Chance , 
 
 Senator Beveridge once had an excellent op- 
 portunity to show a young aspirant for office the 
 difference between the politician of the old 
 school, and the politician of the modern school. 
 He was seated in his room in the Denison Hotel 
 one night about ten o'clock chatting with a 
 newspaper man, when suddenly the door-bell 
 rang. With that cheery manner that has helped 
 to make him famous, the Senator called out, 
 " Come in." The visitor proved to be a young 
 man of average physical appearance, and of 
 fairly pleasing personality. Senator Beveridge, 
 as all his acquaintances know very well, has a 
 peculiar way of getting his callers to plunge at 
 once into the subject of their visit without 
 letting them perceive that they are being urged 
 to do so. 
 
 " I came to talk to you about an appointment 
 for myself," said the young man. 
 
 "Very well," replied the Senator, "I shall 
 be glad to hear what you have to say. ' ' 
 68
 
 "Wait an> twmor of Bmerican politics 69 
 
 Without offering to show that he possessed 
 any peculiar fitness for a position, the young 
 man said: "I want to know what chancel 
 would stand of being appointed to a consulate, 
 if I could succeed in getting the indorsement of 
 all the prominent politicians of the State." 
 
 " Do you want me to be perfectly frank with 
 you ? " inquired the Senator. 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered the young man. 
 
 ' ' Well, then, you would not stand the least 
 chance in the world," was the Senator's rather 
 surprising reply. 
 
 "Might I ask you the reason why?" asked 
 the disappointed aspirant for office. 
 
 "Well, now, I will explain it to you," said 
 the Senator kindly. " It is just the difference 
 between a politician of the old school and a poli- 
 tician of the modern school. Twenty years ago, if 
 you had asked your question of a politician, he 
 would probably have smiled encouragingly and 
 said : ' Why, yes, you certainly ought to stand an 
 excellent chance of securing the appointment if 
 you can obtain that kind of indorsement.' And 
 all the time he would be diplomatically deceiv- 
 ing you. He would know perfectly well that 
 you could not get the appointment in a thousand 
 years, but his way of doing business was to try 
 to avoid hurting people's feelings, even by con-
 
 70 mitt and tumor of Bmerican politics 
 
 cealing the truth from them. You come to a 
 politician of the modern school, however, and 
 ask him : ' What chance will I stand of getting a 
 certain position if I have such and such indorse- 
 ment ? ' He replies promptly, without equivoca- 
 tion, and yet with more real kindness than was 
 shown by the old-school politician : ' You will 
 stand no chance at all.' You want to know the 
 reason for this, and here, again, you see the 
 difference between the two methods. The 
 modern politician talks to you after this fashion : 
 'My friend, you have, in the first place, not 
 made the slightest showing of fitness for the po- 
 sition you ask at my hands. Instead of that, you 
 base your claim solely on the amount of influence 
 you may be able to bring to bear on the appoint- 
 ing powers. Again, let me ask you, what have 
 you done for your party, that you expect to be 
 given this appointment in preference to scores of 
 others who have toiled and sweated in the 
 trenches, and who are clamoring for their re- 
 ward ? ' When applicants for public office are 
 of equal qualifications or fitness, and one has 
 worked zealously for the success of the party 
 that is in power, while the other has stood idly 
 by and allowed things to drift along in their 
 own way, the politician who has the appointing 
 power will undoubtedly, and justly, too, give
 
 TiUit and Dumor of Bmertcan politics n 
 
 preference to the man who has done the work. 
 Thus, you see, my young friend, the reason 
 why you would stand no show of getting the 
 consulate you covet. You have had a plain, 
 unequivocal answer, and I think when you have 
 pondered what I have, told you, you will see 
 that the modern is the better way, after all." 
 
 Decided It His Way 
 
 Another interesting phase of Senator Bever- 
 idge's character was witnessed by a man who 
 happened to be in the junior Senator's office 
 one day recently when he was busily engaged in 
 hearing the pleas of delegations from various 
 parts of the State that were desirous of having 
 certain men appointed postmasters in their re- 
 spective towns or cities. It is well known that 
 many high officials worry themselves almost sick 
 over the question of what particular man, out of 
 the scores of applicants for position, shall be 
 favored with the "plum." Governor Mount 
 might, it is believed, have lived some years 
 longer than he did, had he not allowed himself 
 to be harassed by office-seekers and their 
 myriads of well-meaning friends during his 
 irtcumbency of the gubernatorial office. Senator 
 Beveridge evidently does not intend to die by 
 the "office-seeker" method. He has an en-
 
 72 trait anfc tnimor of Bmertcan politics 
 
 tirely unique and decidedly interesting way of 
 settling the appointment question. Instead of 
 worrying and fretting himself into a state of 
 nervous prostration or something akin to that 
 malady, he simply lets " the other fellows" do 
 the worrying. During the period previously 
 mentioned, the Senator was seated in his office 
 one day, awaiting the coming of a fresh delega- 
 tion to replace the one which he had just dis-- 
 persed. He had not long to wait. The dele- 
 gation came, and it was of considerable size. 
 Worse still, the members hailed from a locality 
 in which was waging one of the most vexatious 
 post-office "fights" that either of the United 
 States Senators has thus far been called on to 
 settle. Everybody connected with the matter 
 had begun to acquire gray hairs, except Senator 
 Beveridge. His mind, to all intents and pur- 
 poses, was free from care. As soon as the dele- 
 gation took seats in the office, the leader began 
 his plea for the appointment of the man in 
 whose interest he and his associates were work- 
 ing. The Senator listened intently to all the 
 man had to say, and then remarked suavely, "I 
 am going to decide this matter your way." 
 
 The man could scarcely believe his ears. " I 
 hardly know how to thank you, Senator," he 
 ejaculated, a smile spreading over his entire face.
 
 "Watt an& Inimor ot Bmerican politics 73 
 
 " Yes," continued Senator Beveridge, " I am 
 going to submit this case to you and let you 
 decide it. I want you to consider yourself in 
 the position of a trustee for the people, and I 
 want you to hear the facts on both sides, and 
 then render judgment according to the political 
 rules and principles that govern these matters." 
 
 Thereupon, the Senator proceeded to state 
 the facts bearing on one phase of the case, and 
 when he had finished, asked the man if he had 
 stated them correctly. "I guess you have, 
 Senator," he replied. 
 
 Next, the Senator started another set of facts 
 bearing on the case, and upon asking the man's 
 opinion was informed that he had put the 
 matter in the right light. The whole situation 
 in the locality of the post-office contest was thus 
 gone over, and when the Senator was through 
 he said, " Now, what is your decision ? " 
 
 "Oh, hang it all," said the man, as he 
 began to pace nervously up and down the 
 office, "if you are going to put it that way, I 
 suppose I will have to say the other fellow 
 ought to have the office." 
 
 "Very well," said the Senator, amid a shout 
 of laughter from those assembled in the room, 
 " it shall be as you say. I shall decide the case 
 your way."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 Three Political Episodes 
 
 Loved to Look into Their Honest Faces 
 
 " DURING the Elaine campaign in 1884, Han- 
 nibal Hamlin made a few speeches in Ohio, and 
 when he came to Cleveland, I invited him out 
 to my home," says an old-timer. "He was in 
 a pleasant mood, and told a number of funny 
 stories, one of which I recall. In 1852, when 
 he was a Democrat, he was announced to 
 address a Democratic meeting with James 
 Buchanan, at Lancaster, Pa. Simon Cameron 
 presided. The meeting was held in a large 
 hall from which all the seats had been removed. 
 The hall was packed to the door by men 
 standing up. Hamlin was the first speaker, 
 and for an hour or more he held the undivided 
 attention of the big audience. 
 
 " While he was talking, several persons in the 
 back part of the hall had been relieved of their 
 pocketbooks. The sergeant of police, who was 
 in the hall, worked his way through the crowd 
 to the stage, and whispered to Cameron a 
 74
 
 an& tmmor of Hmcrtcan politics 75 
 
 request to announce that there were pickpockets 
 in the hall, and that the people should be 
 on the alert to protect themselves. Cameron 
 intended to make the announcement at the 
 close of Hamlin's speech, but in the applause 
 that followed, he forgot it. When quiet was 
 restored, he introduced Buchanan to the audi- 
 ence as their distinguished fellow-citizen. Bu- 
 chanan got up, and surveying the crowd of his 
 old neighbors, began : 
 
 " 'I assure you, my fellow-citizens, that it is 
 indeed a pleasure to return to my old home 
 and meet you again. I like to look into the 
 honest faces of the people of Lancaster. A 
 more honest people does not exist in this dear 
 old country ' 
 
 " Cameron just here thought of what he 
 had forgotten, and, interrupting Buchanan, 
 said : 
 
 "'I am requested by the sergeant of police 
 to state that there are pickpockets in the hall, 
 that several persons in the audience have had 
 their pocketbooks stolen, and to ask you to be 
 on the watch to intercept the guilty ones.' 
 
 '"Of course,' said Hamlin in relating the 
 story to me, 'there was great laughter, but 
 Buchanan passed it off casually and went on 
 with his speech.' "
 
 76 "unit an> feumor of Bmerican ipolttfcs 
 
 They Wouldn't Believe It 
 
 Lew Barker was without question the best 
 political orator that ever lived in Maine. 
 
 In the Democratic convention of 1862, a 
 resolution sustaining the war was laid on the 
 table. Barker was a fierce Union man, and, 
 although he had always been an uncompro- 
 mising Democrat, he picked up his hat and left 
 the convention hall, and never again affiliated 
 with that party. 
 
 A short time afterwards, he addressed a 
 Republican meeting up in Androscoggin 
 County, and among his listeners was an old 
 close-communion Baptist minister by the name 
 of Burbank. Barker was a very profane man, 
 and his speeches were few in which he did not 
 work in an oath or two. Burbank was an 
 intense Union man, and he was pleased to hear 
 that the Republican ranks had obtained such an 
 accession as Barker. He called on Barker 
 in his room at the village hotel the next 
 morning. 
 
 " I want to congratulate you," he said, " upon 
 the noble stand you have taken in this cause. 
 You have been favored with an excellent com- 
 mand of language, and you are in a position to 
 do a power of good. There is only one fault I 
 would find with your speech of last night, and
 
 anO t)umor ot Smerican politics 77 
 
 that is, that once or twice you used expressions 
 that bordered upon the profane. Now, you 
 know that the people about here pride them- 
 selves upon their religious breeding and the 
 championing of only those things that are good. 
 If you will only moderate your talk in such in- 
 stances, what you say will have a vast in- 
 fluence." 
 
 Barker looked at him a minute, and then re- 
 plied : " You are right as far as you go, 
 Elder Burbank, but I want to say that if I were 
 to come up here, and tell the people that I had 
 been a Democrat all my life and did not swear, 
 they would think it was a lie." 
 
 Had Something on His Mind 
 
 " Tom Ochiltree, the great story-teller, knows 
 one yarn that he is not disposed to repeat," re- 
 marked Mr. Frank B. Read, of Dallas, Tex., at 
 the St. James last evening. " In an unguarded 
 moment, Tom told it to me, and it's good, and 
 I don't mind giving it to you. It was this way : 
 After the war a warm friendship sprang up 
 between General Grant and Tom Ochiltree, al- 
 though they had fought on opposite sides. 
 When Grant appointed a large number of people 
 who had been under him to Federal offices,
 
 78 "Wait an& twmor of Bmetican politics 
 
 he also appointed Ochiltree Tom had been 
 ' under him, ' in a sense. Tom was made 
 United States Marshal in Texas. 
 
 "Well, you know, in those days Tom took a 
 very deep interest in the ponies, and was a sort 
 of patron saint of racing in the new Southwest. 
 He was so much admired by horsemen gener- 
 ally, that it became quite the thing for owners 
 to name their horses after him. At one time, 
 there were not less than a dozen horses running 
 under the name of ' Tom Ochiltree. ' 
 
 " Everything went lovely until Tom came up 
 to Washington, several months after assuming 
 his new duties. In the course of his visit 
 he called at the White House for a conference 
 with the President. After talking generalities 
 for a while, Tom noticed that the President 
 seemed to have something on his mind ; didn't 
 appear to be as frank and cordial as usual. He 
 finally asked General Grant what the trouble 
 was, hinting that the Chief Executive might not 
 be satisfied with the manner in which the mar- 
 shal's office was being conducted. 
 
 "'Well, I'll tell you,' said the President, 'I 
 don't like the way you've been running about 
 the country, following the races. I see by the 
 sporting columns of the papers that first you are 
 in Louisville, then you're in New York, next
 
 an> tumor of Smertcan politics 79 
 
 you're in Saratoga, and next somewhere out 
 West. I would rather you stayed at home and 
 looked after your office.' "
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Hand-shaking as a Fine Art 
 
 Dr. Unlucky 
 
 ONE of the President's duties which lias its 
 painful side is the almost interminable hand- 
 shaking which accompanies a presidential recep- 
 tion. Beside the physical exertion required, the 
 monotony of the thing must be wearisome al- 
 most beyond endurance, unless it is broken, as 
 no doubt it often is, by some amusing incident. 
 
 When Mr. Cleveland was at Weldon, N. C., 
 during his first term, says the Youth's Com- 
 panion, a great crowd shook hands with him. 
 In the middle of the line was a long, lank 
 countryman, who took the greatest interest in 
 the scene. 
 
 At length he reached the President and 
 grasped him warmly by the hand. 
 
 "Well," said he, "so you are the Presi- 
 dent?" 
 
 "Yes," replied Mr. Cleveland, "I am the 
 President." 
 
 "Well," continued the old fellow, shaking 
 Mr. Cleveland's hand like a pump-handle, 
 80
 
 lUit and tmmcr of Bmerican Politics 81 
 
 " I've voted for many a President in my time, 
 but I never seed one before." He paused a 
 moment, and looking the President up and 
 down, and from one side to the other, he ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " Well, you are a whopper ! " 
 
 The President smiled and the crowd laughed. 
 
 At another time Mr. Cleveland was receiving 
 a delegation of teachers at the White House. 
 
 "Dr. Lucky of Pittsburg," said the intro- 
 ducer, as the gentleman stepped forward to 
 shake hands. 
 
 It had been intended that the other teachers 
 should follow in turn, but somehow a dilapi- 
 dated looking old tramp had slipped into the 
 line just behind Dr. Lucky. As he shuffled up 
 to the President there was a pause. Nobody 
 knew his name, and even the tramp seemed to 
 feel embarrassed. 
 
 The President mended the difficulty. He 
 extended his hand, and with more than his 
 usual cordiality said, in an encouraging tone : 
 
 "How are you, my friend? Your name is 
 Dr. Unlucky, I presume." 
 
 The old tramp's face relaxed into a smile. 
 
 Didn't Wish to Be Thrown Out 
 John Wanamaker's recent act in ordering out
 
 82 TOM and tmmor ot Bmerican politics 
 
 of his office two local politicians who tried to bull- 
 doze him led the former Governor of one of the 
 Western States to tell a story. 
 
 "I almost believe," he said, "that Mr. 
 VVanamaker could have gotten them out as well 
 by giving each of them one of his official hand- 
 shakes. When he was Postmaster-General I 
 was in Congress, and went to see him a great 
 many times ; in fact he had more calls than any 
 other member of the Cabinet of the Harrison 
 Administration. The way he received every- 
 body was most satisfactory, but the thing that 
 delighted me was the beautiful manner in which 
 he got rid of a visitor. His farewell hand-shake 
 was courtesy and geniality itself, but at the same 
 time it was a gentle push towards the door. It 
 was done in such a manner that nobody could 
 possibly take exception to it. A while after- 
 wards I became Governor of my State. I had 
 seen the thing worked so well in the Postmaster- 
 General's office I thought I would try it. Of 
 course, you know, when the Legislature meets, 
 the Governor of a State has quite a few people 
 to handle. I practiced a little on my wife, and 
 thought I had got the hang of the performance, 
 although she expressed her doubts. The day 
 when I tried the experiment I began on an old 
 political supporter, grasping his hand firmly,
 
 tutt and t)umor of Bmertcan politics 83 
 
 and with my best smile, I gave him the gentle 
 push. But the results were not altogether what 
 I had hoped. He gazed at me steadily for a 
 moment and then said : ' It's all right, Gov- 
 ernor, if you want me to go, but I don't want 
 to be thrown out.' 
 
 " ' Come back here,' I exclaimed, and grabbed 
 his hand in the old way, and gave him a pull 
 towards me. Then, in order to remove any other 
 doubts he may have had, I made him promise 
 to take dinner that day at the Executive Man- 
 sion. It was the first and last time I tried the 
 Wanamaker hand-shake. He can do it, but I 
 don't believe there is anybody else in the world 
 who has the subtle genius necessary to perform 
 it successfully." 
 
 Lament of the Fourth-Class Postmaster 
 I'd rather shovel sulphur down in Tophet for a spell, 
 I'd rather tend a furnace in the southeast end of well, 
 I'm a deacon in the vestry class and p'raps I'll stop at 
 
 that, 
 
 But I'm pretty mighty tired of the job that I am at. 
 I'm at work for Uncle Sam 
 Lickin' stamps and sayin' dam 
 
 Aging things about the bus'ness I'll confess it, yes 1 am. 
 For I hadn't no idee 
 What a pesky thing 'twould be 
 To run a country office so's to keep 'em pleased with
 
 84 TTCUt anfr Tbumcr of Bmerican politics 
 
 The stage, you see, comes trundlin' in 'bout nine o'clock 
 
 at night ; 
 Then so's to catch the early train, the driver leaves 
 
 'fore light, 
 
 And so I have to sit and wait and go without my rest 
 To shift the mail that's coming East, and send it kitin' 
 
 West. 
 And daytimes, all the farmers round, they get as mad as 
 
 sin 
 
 If any time they happen round and cannot find me in. 
 I calculate from what they say that ev'ry critter feels 
 I ought to stay there days and nights and go without 
 
 my meals. 
 
 I cannot be a lark by day and be an owl at night, 
 And blamed if I can take a stone and dull my appetite. 
 For all the stuff a man would earn a-stayin' there a year 
 Would hardly fat a wad enough to stuff a monkey's ear. 
 
 They think I read the postal cards, if secrets trickle 
 
 out 
 They think that I'm the guilty one, and flail me hot and 
 
 stout. 
 And if a letter doesn't come as quick's they think it 
 
 ought, 
 They intimate I've eaten it, with loud and scornful 
 
 snort ; 
 And judging from the way they say, " Now won't you 
 
 look again ? " 
 And keep me nosin', peekin' round inside that office 
 
 pen, 
 They think that I distribute mail with eyes bunged up, 
 
 or that 
 I cuff it up, and fan it round that office with a bat.
 
 Trait an> fnimor ot Bmertcan politics 85 
 
 Oh, I want to dump the office ; oh, I'm achin' to resign, 
 But there ain't a man will take it, and I guess it's safely 
 
 mine. 
 I was thinkin' I would drop it shut'er up get out 
 
 get rid 
 
 I was askin' the inspector what would happen if I did, 
 And he said they'd come and nab me, lock me up and 
 
 let me lie, 
 
 And quite prob'ly I would stay there till my time ar- 
 rived to die. 
 
 But I've just about concluded that I'd rather stay in jail, 
 Than be sassed and jawed and sworn at by the folks 
 
 who come for mail. 
 I'm at work for Uncle Sam, 
 And a man must be a lamb 
 For tu run a fourth-class office without getting so's to 
 
 dam 
 
 Age his soul beyond repair, 
 For the things I have to bear 
 Are tough enough, by Judy, for to make a deacon 
 
 swear.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 Mixed Metaphors 
 
 The Olive Branch 
 
 AT a general election, a candidate startled his 
 sympathizers and made his opponents smile by 
 saying, ore rotunda, " We have held out the olive 
 branch, but our opponents have hurled it back in 
 our face. This olive branch has now become a 
 consuming fire and a besom of destruction, 
 before which they will be swept away as chaff 
 before the wind." 
 
 This " confusion of metaphors " was, however, 
 quite eclipsed by an eloquent candidate who, in 
 speaking of a certain eminent statesman, said : 
 " His smooth tongue is that of a serpent which 
 lures but to destroy, and which holds out sugar- 
 plums in one hand while in the other it holds an 
 unsheathed dagger behind its back." 
 
 A Lion on Wheels 
 
 The politician who magnanimously declared 
 that he " would not repeat what he was going 
 to say," and the gentleman who referred to cer- 
 tain officials as " iron-bound in red tape," were 
 86
 
 and Ibumor of Bmerfcan politics 87 
 
 quite rivalled by a ready candidate who said, 
 "Let this be our sheet-anchor; let us wear it 
 proudly and loyally ; and if our enemies scoff, 
 let us push it down their recreant throats." 
 
 Speaking of the "car of progress" one en- 
 thusiastic candidate said in glowing words, " I 
 can see it floating before my gaze. It is rolling 
 along in stately majesty, sweeping aside all ob- 
 stacles with its powerful right arm, and touching 
 the stars with its soaring pinions." 
 
 The Footprints of an Unseen Hand 
 The embryo member who said, "All along 
 the untrodden paths of the past we discern the 
 footprints of an unseen hand," had no unworthy 
 successor in the candidate who declared, " We 
 are now entering on a new and untrodden path ; 
 but we shall be guided by the footprints of the 
 great men who have gone before us." 
 
 How Maude Voted 
 
 Maude Muller rose on election morn 
 As proud as a kid with a new tin horn, 
 
 For she was to cast a vote, and she 
 Was filled with angelic ecstasy ! 
 
 She felt that men were common clay 
 As she, on that glorious woman's day 1
 
 88 TKIlit an& tumor of Smerican politics 
 
 That she was the equal before the law 
 Of any old hemale she ever saw ! 
 
 She could almost feel the dress of the hims 
 In tubular form on her nether 1 bs ! 
 
 She dressed herself with unusual care 
 From her dainty feet to her fluffy hair. 
 
 In a party carriage she would not ride ; 
 She'd walk to the polls in her mannish pride ! 
 
 She started forth with a dashing swing 
 As gay as a jaybird on the wing. 
 
 A milliner's window caught her eye. 
 
 And you know she could never pass that by ! 
 
 Stepped into the waiting spider's net 
 To try on a hat ; it was early yet. 
 
 She spent an hour 'mid the fairy show, 
 Then happened to think she had better go. 
 
 Some gowns in a window lay in wait 
 For girls who would bite at such a bait. 
 
 She glued her nose to the polished pane 
 And studied the styles again and again. 
 
 She wondered how she would look if she 
 Were dressed in such dreams of finery ! 
 
 She entered the store, and for half the day 
 Inspected the goods in a crazy way !
 
 TKfltt anfc twmor of American politics 89 
 
 As the day was waning she stood before 
 The flashing gems in a jewelry store. 
 
 Passed on to a window filled with hose 
 And nighties and other sacred clothes ! 
 
 Went into an ice cream joint to get 
 A plate or two of the frozen wet. 
 
 She met a friend on the street, and they 
 Swapped talk till an hour had passed away. 
 
 Then again she hastened in graceful flight 
 To make a shy at her sacred right. 
 
 But alas ! as you no doubt have supposed 
 She found that the mean old polls had closed! 
 
 They might have known, the condemned old set 
 Of men, that she hadn't voted yet ! 
 
 They did it on purpose ! It wasn't fair ! 
 
 They were perfectly horrid old things ! So there I
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 " Teddy" as a Humorist 
 
 It Wouldn't Do 
 
 PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT possesses a character- 
 istic sense of humor. It is vigorous and some- 
 times almost grotesque. 
 
 When he was Assistant Secretary of the Navy 
 during the preparation for the Spanish war, the 
 Government was buying a number of yachts to 
 be converted into torpedo-boats, dispatch-boats, 
 scouts, etc. Considerable intimacy existed be- 
 tween the family of President Roosevelt and that 
 of one of the officers of the Navy in the Depart- 
 ment. The wife of this officer got a fancy she 
 would like to have one of these beautiful little 
 boats bear her name. There is a prejudice in 
 the Navy against giving a woman's name to a 
 war-vessel of any type. It is believed to be un- 
 lucky. But the officer, who found it easier to 
 face official prejudice than to resist the importu- 
 nities of his better half, made the request to Mr. 
 Roosevelt. 
 
 The Assistant Secretary of the Navy hesitated. 
 
 "It won't do," he said. "I would like to 
 90
 
 TKlit and twmor of Bmerican politics 91 
 
 gratify your wife, but a woman's name won't 
 do." 
 
 Then a thought occurred to him, and he re- 
 lented. "I will fix it," he said. "Tell your 
 wife it will be all right." 
 
 The next day the boat was named : The 
 Vixen. 
 
 " I am going to put you in command of her," 
 said Mr. Roosevelt when he announced the 
 name. 
 
 Still in Office 
 
 Shortly after Mr. Roosevelt entered the White 
 House a politician called upon him with refer- 
 ence to appointments. After the preliminary 
 expressions of high esteem, unbounded admira- 
 tion, and eternal loyalty, the politician began to 
 disclose his business. 
 
 "I want to speak to you about Mr. Blank, 
 who holds a small office down in my district " 
 
 The politician didn't finish his sentence. 
 
 " What ! " exclained Roosevelt, interrupting 
 him. "Is that infernal scoundrel still in that 
 place? I had some knowledge of him when I 
 was Civil Service Commissioner." 
 
 The politician acknowledged that Mr. Blank 
 was still there and then turned the subject.
 
 02 TRUit ano f>umor of Bmertcan politics 
 
 Repealed the Law 
 
 The following preamble and resolutions were 
 introduced in the lower House of the Legislature 
 early in 1901, and referred to the Federal Rela- 
 tions Committee : 
 
 " Whereas, A statute exists in this State pro- 
 viding for the payment of a bounty on mountain- 
 lions' scalps, and 
 
 " Whereas, The Hon. Theodore Roosevelt, the 
 Rough-Rider Vice-President of the United States 
 is now touring the State with the avowed pur- 
 pose of slaughtering all the mountain-lions therein 
 found, and 
 
 " Whereas, The slaughter thereof by the Vice- 
 President of the United States supersedes the 
 necessity of the bounty thus provided by law, 
 therefore be it 
 
 "Resolved, that upon the departure of the 
 said Theodore Roosevelt, Rough-Rider Vice- 
 President of the United States, with his knives 
 so vividly portrayed in the newspapers of the 
 United States, that the law providing for the 
 payment of a bounty upon mountain-lion scalps 
 should be repealed for two reasons. : 
 
 " First, as a matter of economy. 
 
 "Second, because we must have mountain- 
 lions and their multiplication should be encour- 
 aged to the end that the said Theodore Roose-
 
 "CQit an? twiner of Bmerican politics 93 
 
 velt, Rough-Rider Vice- President of the United 
 States, may be induced to return to this State to 
 repeat his acts of daring and prowess, and thereby 
 add to the fame of the State." 
 
 Borrowed Steins 
 
 The clubs in Washington early in 1902 en- 
 joyed some amusement over an incident of Prince 
 Henry's visit which escaped the notice of the 
 "Argus-eyed reporters." As the story goes, 
 President Roosevelt wished to show the nation's 
 guest, in private, a compliment which the for- 
 malities of his public entertainment put out of 
 the question to wit, to prove to him that the 
 people's drink of the Fatherland had won as sure 
 a foothold in the New World as it had long en- 
 joyed in the Old. To this end the President or- 
 dered from a leading German restaurant a supply 
 of Wurzburger Hof brau for an informal supper 
 which was to be served at the White House. As 
 the table equipment of our republican palace 
 does not include the covered steins necessary to 
 give this beer its proper relish, the same restau- 
 rateur was directed to furnish several of the fin- 
 est specimens from his own stock. When the 
 Prince was brought to the table he found the 
 beer already in place, each stein being filled to 
 the brim and ready for action. It was a most
 
 94 tatt and t>umor of American politics 
 
 pleasant surprise, which he attested by propos- 
 ing a merry round of healths. As he drained 
 the last drop and was about to set down his stein, 
 his eye was caught by something at the bottom 
 of it, and the smile on his face relaxed. He 
 cast a glance of quizzical alarm towards the Pres- 
 ident and then towards the door, as if he more 
 than half expected a raid from the constabulary. 
 His companions, consumed with curiosity, tipped 
 their steins and peered in, too. In rich blue 
 capital letters, burned into the clay, this inscrip- 
 tion stared up at them from the depths : " Stolen 
 from Heidelberg's Deutsche Wirthschaft, 8863 
 Pennsylvania Avenue. ' '
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 The Trials of Political Life 
 
 Queer Demands Upon a Congressman 
 
 THE job of a Congressman is not the easiest 
 to be found in the public service. His duties 
 are not confined to the months he spends at 
 Washington. His constituents have things for 
 him to do whether Congress is in session or not. 
 
 " I never had an idea before how many peo- 
 ple had use for a Congressman," said a Repre- 
 sentative who was elected last fall from one of 
 the New York City districts. " Here I have 
 been elected less than six months, and I believe 
 I have received at least one letter or a call from 
 every one of the thousands of people who live in 
 my district. 
 
 "That is no exaggeration. Look at that 
 mail there. There are more than one hundred 
 letters and packages in it and such a mail 
 reaches me three times a day. The bombard- 
 ment began one hour after I was nominated. 
 Then a delegation waited on me in the interest 
 of a certain young man from their section who 
 wanted to be my private secretary. At that 
 95
 
 96 tutt an& tmmor of Bmerican politics 
 
 time I had not even got out of the convention 
 hall. 
 
 "During the canvass I had three similar ap- 
 plications. After the election, my political or- 
 ganization took the matter up. They began 
 indorsing candidates for the secretaryship and 
 sending delegations to wait on me. I held re- 
 ceptions for them on week-days and Sundays. 
 Finally I made my selection and then I had to 
 listen to protests. 
 
 "Now, there are more than one hundred 
 post-offices in my district. The term of every 
 Postmaster expires during my incumbency. 
 Every one of them wants to be retained and I 
 have on file an application from each one. 
 Each of these hundred men has interested in 
 his behalf from three to four influential friends 
 of his neighborhood and I am receiving personal 
 letters from each of them. 
 
 " Then there are at least two persons in each 
 town who would like to succeed the Postmaster. 
 In some places there are four or five. I have 
 received visits and letters from all these candi- 
 dates and their friends. Please notice that this 
 Postmaster business has not yet reached the 
 stage where the political committees come in. 
 
 "I have received just 173 applications for 
 offices in the Government service. These per-
 
 "CUtt and twmor ol Bmertcan politics 97 
 
 sons are the most persistent I ever met. I wish 
 I could give each of them a job. That's the 
 only way I'll get rid of some of them. 
 
 " I didn't have an appointment to West Point 
 to make. I made a public announcement of 
 that fact, but nevertheless I had to do a lot of 
 correspondence on that subject. I did have an 
 appointment to Annapolis. There were fifty 
 young men who wanted it. Then a notice got 
 into the papers somehow that I was about to 
 hold a competitive examination for the appoint- 
 ment. This caused a flood of letters and I had 
 to write all over again to each of the young 
 men. After I made the appointment I received 
 applications from a dozen young men who 
 wanted to be placed on the list as second and 
 even third man. 
 
 " One evening I received a request from a 
 constituent asking for an interview. I set a 
 date and then two men showed up who wanted 
 to interest me in a contract for gum to put on 
 the back of postage stamps. I wrote to the 
 Department in Washington and found out how 
 they should proceed to get their proposal con- 
 sidered. I have just succeeded in getting them 
 quieted for a time. Then along came another 
 fellow who heard that the Government had just 
 discontinued the use of stoves in one of the De-
 
 98 TKQit and Dumor of Hmcncan politics 
 
 partments. A lot of stoves were put out of 
 business in this way and he knew where he 
 could use the stoves and would like to get them. 
 I had some correspondence on the stove ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " I have just satisfied a well-to-do woman who 
 lives in my district by hunting up the pedigree 
 of her ancestors. She wanted to join the 
 Daughters of the Revolution, but did not have 
 the record of her great-grandfather, who was an 
 officer in Washington's army. After consider- 
 able correspondence with two Departments in 
 Washington I finally obtained the record she 
 wanted. 
 
 " If anybody thinks a Congressman has noth- 
 ing to do but to make speeches in the halls of 
 Congress my advice is to get elected to Congress 
 and he will find out his mistake."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 Three Inaugurations 
 
 Nuts and Raisins 
 
 THE second inauguration of President McKin- 
 ley suggested the following to a former Western 
 Congressman : 
 
 " I was in Washington on the day of the in- 
 auguration of President Harrison. Major Mc- 
 Kinley, as he was then called, was, if I am 
 correct, in the lower house of Congress. Any- 
 way, he was in Washington on the day referred 
 to. He was staying at the Ebbitt House and so 
 was I. 
 
 " After the procession I went into the dining- 
 room rather late. Major McKinley was alone 
 at a table, and beckoned me to it. Naturally, 
 we talked of the event of the day, and I said 
 among other things, that I presumed he would 
 be in the same place as Harrison some day. 
 He replied in these words as nearly as I recall 
 them : 
 
 " ' It is the one thing which would always 
 make me hesitate to be President.' (Meaning 
 99
 
 loo Wit anfc Dumor of Bmcrfcan politico 
 
 the parade. ) ' I suppose we must all have an 
 inaugural parade, an address from the East side 
 of the Capitol, and a review. But I would 
 dread them if I were President. And then 
 there is the inaugural ball. 
 
 " ' If I had my own way about it, I should 
 dispense with that, unless the date could be 
 changed, as it ought to be. The inaugural ad- 
 dress should be delivered in the lower house. 
 Few of the people who assemble in front of the 
 building can hear the address. They go there 
 to see the President. They could see him much 
 better along the line of the parade. 
 
 " ' Some of these days, unless we change the 
 date of our inauguration, a President will die 
 from the effects of exposing himself by appear- 
 ing, as he is now required to do, first as a 
 speaker, and afterwards at the reviewing stand in 
 front of the White House.' 
 
 " While he was talking I was listening. He 
 talked and ate at the same time, and I remem- 
 ber distinctly that his ability to do the latter 
 left me without any nuts and raisins. He 
 devoured the whole layout, and I told him so, in 
 a joking way. He replied : 
 
 " ' Well, if I ever get to be President, you 
 come over to the White House and I will give 
 you all the nuts and raisins you can hold.'
 
 tutt ano fnimor of Bmcrican politics 101 
 
 ' ' I have never seen him since he became 
 President, but if ever I go to Washington while 
 he is in the White House, I am going to hold 
 him to his promise. But I shall want the first 
 whack at the stand, for McKinley can eat nuts 
 faster than any man I ever saw." 
 
 Had No Show 
 
 "Grover Cleveland's first Presidential in- 
 auguration was the first I ever saw," said 
 the man who listened to the story of the former 
 Congressman. " I was a Democrat then as 
 I am now. You know our party had not had a 
 hand in the inauguration business for a good 
 many years. It was a great party novelty. 
 
 " I went down to Washington with several of 
 our boys, and we got there three days ahead of 
 the event. We were all huddled in one room 
 at Willard's. The day the Elect came to town 
 we all went to the hotel where he stayed, in- 
 tending to pay him our distinguished respects. 
 The office of the hotel was as near as we ever 
 got. 
 
 " Then we went back to Willard's and lined 
 up in front of the bar. But there were two 
 lines ahead of our crowd, and they were the 
 thirstiest lot of chaps I ever saw. After we had 
 waited until our throats were cracked, I got the
 
 102 -omit ano f>umor of Bmertcan 
 
 attention of the head bartender and asked him 
 when he thought we would get a show. 
 
 " ' What are you ? ' he asked, ' Democrats or 
 Republicans ? ' 
 
 " I told him, and he replied : 
 
 " ' I don't know just where you will be able 
 to come in. The first line you see is from 
 Buffalo. They came down ahead of Cleveland, 
 and they think they own the town. The fel- 
 lows in the second row are Republicans who 
 are waiting to drown their sorrow. Where are 
 you fellows from ? ' 
 
 "I told him we were from Kentucky. 
 
 "'Good heavens!' he exclaimed. 'There 
 is no show for you here. Go to your room and 
 I'll send up a barrel.' " 
 
 They Scattered 
 
 "Eight years after, I was in Washington 
 again, and it was inauguration day for G. C. 
 As usual I was corralled at Willard's. As 
 of yore I went to the bar. Nobody there but 
 the barkeeper. I remarked the change in the 
 appearance of his place since Cleveland's first 
 inauguration. 
 
 " ' Yes,' replied the boss in a wheezy voice, 
 ' the Republicans are glad Cleveland's coming 
 back, and they don't need any whiskey, be-
 
 TWltt ano f>umot of Bmerfcan Politics 103 
 
 cause they know that the Democrats hate 
 Cleveland, and the Democrats are so blamed 
 mad th'at they are thinking about getting up a 
 temperance crusade. You're the first man 
 that's showed up here this morning. Have 
 something on the house to scatter the gloom.' 
 " And we scattered."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 Three of a Kind 
 
 He Married the Girl 
 
 MORE than three years ago a tramp might 
 have been seen traveling along the road near 
 Armouk, N. Y. His clothes were shabby in 
 the extreme, his hat was rimless, one shoe was 
 missing and in its place was a dilapidated 
 rubber. Stopping at a farmhouse he rapped on 
 the kitchen door. The knock was answered by 
 a woman apparently about forty, while at her 
 side stood a comely young woman just out 
 of her teens. 
 
 Looking up at the woman, he asked for work. 
 The farmer's wife said that since Cleveland had 
 been elected President they could not afford to 
 hire help. The tramp then asked for a drink 
 of water. 
 
 "Wouldn't you rather have milk?" asked 
 the woman. Receiving a reply in the affirma- 
 tive, the farmer's wife said, "Annie, go down 
 to the milk-room and bring up a pan of milk." 
 
 The girl went around the corner of the house, 
 and the tramp sat down on the upper step to 
 104
 
 an& tbumoc of Bmertcan politics 105 
 
 wait. And wait he did. Five, ten, fifteen 
 minutes went by, and still the girl did not return 
 with the milk. Her mother said a number of 
 times, "I wonder what keeps the child." 
 Finally she said, " 1 must go and see what is 
 the matter." 
 
 The woman went around the corner of the 
 house in the direction taken by her daughter. 
 After waiting ten or fifteen minutes more, the 
 tramp, getting anxious about the two women 
 and the milk, also went around the house. 
 Near the southwest corner was a large, old- 
 fashioned cellar door, and hanging up over the 
 cellar entrance, which was at the foot of the 
 steps, was a scythe blade. On the steps sat 
 both mother and daughter with their faces 
 covered with their aprons, and crying as if their 
 hearts would break. In great surprise the 
 tramp said : 
 
 "For heaven's sake, what's the matter? 
 Have you both hurt yourselves ? " 
 
 The girl replied, saying, " No, we ain't hurt 
 boo ! hoo ! but when I came down the steps 
 I saw boo ! hoo ! that scythe hanging up there 
 and I thought boo ! hoo ! that suppose you 
 and I got married, and we had a little boy 
 boo ! hoo ! and he came down the steps and 
 the scythe fell down on him and killed him
 
 106 tout anO tmtnor of Bmcrican politics 
 
 boo ! hoo ! oh, Lord ! " and then both women 
 wept in concert, while the tramp stood at the 
 head of the steps too dumfounded to speak. 
 
 After a time he said: "Well, I'll tell you 
 what I'll do. If in the course of the next four 
 years I meet with three fools such as you are, 
 I'll come back and marry you, and we'll run 
 the risk of the kid getting killed, or else we'll 
 move the scythe." 
 
 One morning a short time after that, as the 
 tramp was crawling out from under a haystack 
 where he had spent the night, he saw a man 
 come out of a house in his nightshirt, carrying 
 his trousers in his hands. The tramp stood in 
 wonder, watching every motion of the farmer. 
 Hanging his trousers on the eaves of a low 
 building, the farmer climbed up on the roof. 
 Then sitting down, he slid into his trousers, 
 which, when the weight struck them, slipped 
 from the pegs on which they were hung. Then 
 the farmer slipped his arms through the sus- 
 penders and started for the house. 
 
 The tramp, recovering from his surprise, 
 shouted: "Say, boss, just hold on a minute, 
 will you? " 
 
 The farmer turned towards the sound, and 
 waited for the tramp. As the latter came up 
 the farmer said : " Well, what d'ye want ? "
 
 "Wait anfc tumor of American politics 107 
 
 " I just want to know why you hung up your 
 trousers where you did and then slid into 
 them?" 
 
 With a surprised look the farmer said : "To 
 put them on, of course." 
 
 " Do you always do it that way?" asked the 
 tramp. 
 
 " To be sure ; that's the only way, ain't 
 it?" 
 
 The tramp, getting out of his own trousers, 
 said to the farmer, " Why don't you do it this 
 way? "at the same time showing the way in 
 which trousers are usually put on. 
 
 "Why, I never thought of that way," said 
 the farmer. The tramp turned away without 
 saying anything more to the farmer, but to 
 himself he said : " That fellow is a darn sight 
 bigger fool than that girl or her mother. I 
 guess I had better try some other road or I'll 
 meet two more suph fools, and then I'll have to 
 marry that girl." 
 
 Several days after that, as he was looking for 
 a place for the night, he saw a man lead a horse 
 down to the river and into a flatboat, which, 
 with a great deal of hard work, he got across 
 the stream. Then he led the horse to the edge 
 of the water and let it drink. Then putting the 
 horse again in the flatboat he returned to the
 
 108 TBllit ano Dumoc of Bmerican politics 
 
 spot from which he had started . By this time 
 the tramp stood at the landing-place. 
 
 "Hello! " said the man. 
 
 "Hello!" answered the tramp. "Say, 
 mister, what d'ye take that horse over to the 
 other side for ? " 
 
 "To give him a drink," was the reply. 
 
 "Well, say, why didn't you water him on 
 this side? " said the tramp. 
 
 " I never thought of that," said the man. 
 
 "Oh, Lord!" said the tramp, "only a 
 month gone, and I have already met with two 
 fools that are a darn sight worse than the girl or 
 her mother ! " 
 
 After the election of McKinley in 1896 the 
 tramp found no difficulty in getting work, and 
 as he was a tramp only from necessity and not 
 from choice, he soon accumulated quite a lot of 
 money, and with good clothes and the feeling 
 that goes with them, he was entirely another 
 man. Time slipped by rapidly ; the four years 
 were almost up, and another election was near at 
 hand. Meeting an old acquaintance who had 
 also had to tramp or starve in the hard times, he 
 talked with him of old times. They finally got 
 down to the present day. 
 
 "What are you doing now? " asked the ex- 
 tramp.
 
 IQit anD tmmor of Bmerican politics 109 
 
 "I've been in the painting business two or 
 three years now," replied his friend. "I've 
 got more work than I can do. I have ten men 
 working now, and I can't keep up with my 
 orders." 
 
 "How are you going to vote?" innocently 
 asked the ex-tramp, thinking that a man who 
 found business so good under the Republican 
 administration would of course vote to continue 
 the good times. Fancy his surprise, if you can, 
 when his friend replied : 
 
 "Oh, I am a Democrat, and I'm going to 
 vote for Bryan." 
 
 The ex-tramp turned sorrowfully away. 
 
 "Why, where are you going? "asked the 
 painter. 
 
 "I'm going back to keep my promise and 
 marry that girl," was the sad reply.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 Rewards of Political Service 
 
 St. Vitus's Dance 
 
 A YOUNG man afflicted with St. Vitus's dance, 
 who is known on the East Side of New York as 
 Spider Joe, recently saved from much embar- 
 rassment a popular young secretary to a well- 
 known Western Congressman. As a result, 
 however, one policeman, at least, declares that 
 "frindship is done wid me after this." The 
 secretary in question is widely known in Wash- 
 ington, and while there, is a model of activity 
 and strict attention to business, but occasionally, 
 he takes a trip to New York, where convivial 
 friends entertain him. On the occasion in ques- 
 tion, the secretary got arrested on the Bowery, 
 and the policeman who gathered him in, declared 
 that " he hadn't a lig under him." Some hours 
 later, two New York Congressmen went to the 
 station-house, bailed him out and hurried away 
 with him. The problem of how to save the sec- 
 retary the humiliation of standing in the line of 
 "drunks" next morning in the Essex Market 
 Police Court presented itself, but was quickly 
 110
 
 "GCUt anfc tnimor of Bmerfcan politics ill 
 
 solved by an East Side politician who was ap- 
 pealed to. 
 
 "Why, dat's easy," he said. " We can jist 
 put in a ringer, if you put up a little dough ter 
 pay der fine and expenses. ' ' 
 
 The money was willingly produced, and the 
 politician said to the secretary's friends : "Jist 
 tell him to keep away. I'll do der rest." 
 
 When the court opened in the morning the 
 secretary was already on his way to Washington. 
 W T hen his name was called Spider Joe answered 
 to it, and hobbled up to the rail. 
 
 " Is that man drunk yet? " asked the Magis- 
 trate of the policeman as he witnessed Joe's un* 
 steady gait. 
 
 " No, sor," said the policeman, who had pre- 
 viously, of course, been posted and made agree- 
 able to the imposition. " That do be his nateral 
 walk, sir. He got some kind of a holy dance 
 that make him go loike that." 
 
 " Was he walking that way last night ? " asked 
 the Magistrate. 
 
 " Yis, sor," replied the cop. 
 
 " How do you know he was drunk ? Did you 
 see him drink enough to get him drunk ? " ques- 
 tioned the Magistrate. 
 
 " Oi didn't see him drunk, sor," replied the 
 cop, " but he was staggerin'."
 
 112 "Waft and Dumor of Bmertcan politics 
 
 " Officer," said the Magistrate, " you deserve 
 to be reprimanded. Here's a poor cripple that 
 suffers arrest through your stupidity. You are 
 a disgrace to the force. You should have found 
 out that he was suffering from this affliction and 
 not staggering from drink. 
 
 "Young man, you are discharged," said the 
 Magistrate turning to Joe. "And you are en- 
 titled to an apology for this unfortunate mis- 
 take." 
 
 " Thot's what Oi git fer doin' a favor for a 
 politician," remarked the angry cop, as he left 
 the court. 
 
 The Politician and the Pig 
 A political candidate, on paying a second 
 visit to the house of a doubtful voter, was 
 somewhat surprised at hearing him say that he 
 would support him. 
 
 "Glad to hear it," said the candidate ; "I 
 thought you were against me." 
 
 "So I was at first," replied the farmer. 
 " When you called here the other day and stood 
 by that pig-sty and talked for half an hour, 
 ye didn't budge me an inch ; but after you had 
 gone away, sir, I got to thinkin' how ye'd reached 
 yer hand over the rail and scratched the pig's 
 back till he lay down wi' the pleasure of it. I
 
 an& tumor of Bmerican politics 113 
 
 made up my mind that when a man was so 
 sociable as that wi' a poor fellow-creature, I 
 wasn't the one to vote against him." 
 
 Waited for Him 
 
 A pompous individual once called to see the 
 British Minister at Washington, D. C. The 
 Minister was out, and the caller insisted on 
 waiting. 
 
 "Then pray take a chair," said the attache. 
 
 After half an hour the pompous man grew 
 impatient, and asked when the minister was ex- 
 pected back. 
 
 "I don't know," said the attache; "he left 
 for Europe this morning." 
 
 Filed His Application 
 
 A clerk in a public office entered the private 
 room of the head of his department to ask for a 
 fortnight's holiday. The official received him 
 with his usual affability, and told him to hand 
 in his request in writing. 
 
 " Oh, I did not think that was necessary if I 
 applied to you in person," said the clerk. 
 "Oh, yes; in fact, it is indispensable." 
 " Then I will go back to the office." 
 " No need to do that ; see, here are pens, 
 ink, and paper ; sit down and write."
 
 114 lUit anfc twmor of Bmerfcan politics 
 
 The clerk obeyed. The petition was written 
 out, signed, and folded. 
 
 "Now," said the functionary, "you have 
 only to present it." 
 
 "To whom? " 
 
 "To me, of course." And, taking up the 
 petition, he wiped his glasses, carefully adjusted 
 them, read the document from beginning to 
 end, placing it on file along with a number of 
 similar applications, and then remarked with 
 the utmost gravity: "I have read your peti- 
 tion, and regret exceedingly that I am com- 
 pelled to inform you that I cannot accede to 
 your request. ' ' 
 
 The Loud " Larf " 
 
 On one occasion, a gentleman, while address- 
 ing a meeting, was repeatedly interrupted by an 
 individual who alternated loud guffaws with the 
 imitation of a dog's howls. The speaker in- 
 quired the name of this fellow, and was told 
 that his name was John Larf. 
 
 "Mr. Larf," he said, raising his voice, "our 
 friend Goldsmith clearly had you in view when 
 he said : 
 
 " ' The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind, 
 And the loud Larf that spoke the vacant mind.' "
 
 Wit ano "Burner of Bmertcan politics us 
 
 " He said that, did he?" cried Larf, as he 
 turned round and struck a little man who was 
 in the crowd a severe blow over the head. And 
 it was only after a violent rough-and-tumble and 
 much vituperative language that Mr. Larf was 
 convinced that the man he had assaulted, and 
 whose name was Goldsmith, was not the gentle- 
 man referred to by the speaker. 
 
 Presidential Lightning 
 
 " The lightning caused me to bet on the 
 Presidential election in 1860," said a Wall Street 
 man who was called in as stakeholder during 
 the late election. " And I won." 
 
 "I'm not more superstitious than the average 
 individual," continued the man, "although my 
 act would indicate the contrary. I was a young 
 man in a law office in a Kentucky town. My 
 preceptor had pasted over his desk a poster con- 
 taining the portraits of all the candidates, Lin- 
 coln and Hamlin, Breckenridge and Lane, 
 Douglas and Johnson, and Bell and Everett. 
 The poster contained the platforms of the various 
 parties. There was some uncertainty in that cam- 
 paign. My preceptor was an enthusiastic Doug- 
 las man and wanted to bet all he had on his candi- 
 date. It was my first experience in a Presidential 
 campaign, and I had a fool notion that Bell and
 
 116 unit and Dumor of Bmerican Politics 
 
 Everett would be elected. I had never made a 
 money bet, but I was aching to take up my Black- 
 stonian preceptor, although I lacked nerve. 
 
 " One day there was a thunder-storm. The 
 lightning loosened a number of things in the 
 town, the building in which I was a law student 
 being one. In one of its pranks the lightning 
 cut in the wall on which that political poster was. 
 The result was that the upper part of the poster 
 hung down from the wall, covering up all the 
 candidates save Lincoln and Hamlin. Despite 
 my sympathies for Bell and Everett, I imagined 
 I saw in this condition of the poster the result 
 of that election, and a few days later when the 
 Douglas enthusiast talked on his upper notes and 
 offered to bet $25 even to his man I took him up. 
 He was very much astonished to think I would 
 bet on Lincoln and Hamlin. He said I was a 
 young ass and other things, and that he would 
 bet with me to teach me a lesson. After the 
 election he asked me how I came to take the 
 chance, for there were few Lincoln votes in the 
 town. When I told him the source of my tip he 
 grew serious. 
 
 " ' You have won your first bet on a Pres- 
 idential election,' he said, ' but, remember, 
 young man, lightning never strikes in the same 
 place twice.'
 
 and Uumor of American politics in 
 
 "But it did in this case. Lincoln was re- 
 elected." 
 
 A Question of Intent 
 
 In one of the executive departments not a 
 thousand miles from the Star Building, a young 
 man fresh from the plains of the Southwest was 
 appointed a subchief in one of the divisions. 
 
 He had a misunderstanding with one of the 
 clerks a few days after his advent, and he was 
 instructed by his superior to discipline the clerk, 
 as the latter happened to be in the wrong. 
 
 " You must discipline him. Not harshly, but 
 sit down on him properly," said the chief of 
 division. 
 
 "I don't like to do that," replied the 
 Texan. 
 
 "We can't take our likes and dislikes into 
 consideration in government service in the ad- 
 ministration of our duties," advised the chief. 
 " Give him a gentle dressing down, and then 
 sit down on him quick and hard." 
 
 "I hate to do it." 
 
 " Can't help it. It's your duty. He is in a 
 room by himself. No one will hear or see you. 
 It will be good practice for you, as you will 
 have to do it often. He's a little fellow, 
 too."
 
 118 tdit and fDumor of Bmerican politics 
 
 " That's the worst of it. If he were my 
 size, I'd like the sport better than branding and 
 roping steers. However, having been a deputy 
 sheriff I know what my duty means. When I 
 was told to go out and get a cattle rustler or a 
 bad cowboy, I usually got him, even if he came 
 back to the courthouse feet first. You're boss, 
 so here goes. I hate to do it." 
 
 "Nonsense," explained the chief. "It's 
 nothing. Report to me what he said." 
 
 About half an hour later the subchief entered 
 his superior's room. His face was scratched 
 and his clothing appeared somewhat rumpled. 
 Otherwise, his usually serious demeanor was un- 
 changed. 
 
 "I sat on that clerk for fifteen minutes," he 
 said quietly. 
 
 "What?" shouted the chief. 
 
 "I sat on him for fifteen minutes by the 
 clock. For a little fellow he put up a stiff fight. 
 I bucked him, bound him and almost branded 
 him from force of habit. But it was easy." 
 
 " My God ! " gasped the other man. 
 
 " You said to be gentle with him, you 
 know." 
 
 "Holy smoke!" cried the chief, faintly. 
 "You obeyed my orders literally; I meant for 
 you to sit on him figuratively."
 
 "Olflit anfc fnimor of Bmcrtcan politics 119 
 
 "You didn't say a word about figures," re- 
 sponded the ex-cowboy, sullenly. 
 
 "I didn't say for you to sit down on him 
 literally." 
 
 " You didn't say at all where I was to sit on 
 him, but I sat there all right," said the former 
 cowpuncher, desperately. 
 
 " No, no ; you don't understand," said the 
 chief, when he recovered his breath. "You 
 must not take everything in a literal sense in 
 Washington. You are not chasing cows or 
 frontier bandits, and you mustn't be so serious. 
 When you are ordered to ' sit down on a clerk ' 
 it means in a figurative sense only, and you 
 should give him, to be thoroughly explicit this 
 time, a good talking to with your mouth. You 
 mustn't actually sit on him. If this gets out we 
 will be the laughing-stock of the office. I must 
 fix it up at once." 
 
 It was "fixed up" by sticking patches of 
 soothing plaster on the little clerk's wounded 
 body and feelings by the positive promise of a 
 promotion to the next vacancy occurring in the 
 division if he kept quiet. The ex-cowboy 
 squared himself by treating the clerk and his 
 chief to lunch for a fortnight. It was at one of 
 these lunches that they told a Star man all 
 about it, and the joke is too good to keep.
 
 120 Wit and Dumor of Bmerican politics 
 
 Tillman on a Bat 
 
 Apropos of the encounter between Senators Tillman and McLaurin 
 during Ike winter of 1902, the following poetical satire, en- 
 titled " Tillman on a Bat," appeared. 
 
 They looked extremely rocky in the Senate-room that 
 
 day ; 
 They'd been fussing o'er the Philippines; the dickens 
 
 was to pay. 
 So when Spooner spoke quite peaceably and met with 
 
 no retort, 
 A pallor wreathed the features of the patrons " of the 
 
 sport." 
 
 A straggling few got up to go, leaving there the rest, 
 With hope that springs eternal within the human breast, 
 For they thought if only Tillman could get a whack at 
 
 that, 
 They'd put up even money now with Tillman on a bat. 
 
 But suddenly McLaurin's voice across the chamber 
 
 sped, 
 And " Tillman, you're a liar ! " it sounded like he 
 
 said ; 
 Then when the dust had lifted and they saw the gory 
 
 sight 
 There was Mac a-punching Tillman, who was guarding 
 
 with his right. 
 
 From the galPry, black with people, went up a joyous 
 
 roar, 
 And the members in the lobby made a rush upon the 
 
 floor.
 
 TRflit anfc tmmor of Bmerican politics 121 
 
 McLaurin cut and feinted ; once more Till's jabber 
 
 flew; 
 But McLaurin countered neatly, and the gall'ry yelled 
 
 " Strike two ! " 
 
 " Encore ! " cried the multitude and the echo answered 
 
 Core ! " 
 As McLaurin with a plexus push sent Tillman to the 
 
 floor. 
 Then Tillman's face grew cold and item ; they saw his 
 
 muscles strain, 
 And they knew he'd never, never let himself be downed 
 
 again. 
 
 The smile is gone from both their lips ; their forms are 
 clenched ; they swear 
 
 When suddenly a peace-maker does pluck apart trie- 
 pair ; 
 
 And now McLaurin's pulled away from off his gory foe. 
 
 So only air is shattered by the force of Tillman's blow ! 
 
 Oh, somewhere in the Philippines the sun is shining 
 
 bright ; 
 
 It doesn't seem a bit disturbed about this bloody fight ; 
 And soldiers still are playing tag on that far-distant 
 
 shore 
 But there's woe among the Senate now, for Tillman's, 
 
 scrap is o'er.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 The Wonders of Tupelo 
 
 Private John Allen's Last 
 FOR twenty minutes a period altogether too 
 brief the House was entertained early in 1901 by 
 Representative John Allen of Mississippi in his 
 old-time form. Tupelo, his home and the town 
 he made famous in legislative annals, was the 
 theme in general, but the object of his discourse 
 was a $20,000 appropriation for a fish hatchery 
 at that place. And the House, pleased with the 
 flash of humor from the genial Mississippian, 
 voted the money without a dissenting voice. It 
 was proposed and carried as an amendment to 
 the Sundry Civil bill. There is every reason to 
 believe that the Senate, delighted even at the 
 echo of such a gracious speech, will allow the 
 appropriation, and that millions of fishes yet 
 unborn, to borrow one of Mr. Allen's allusions, 
 will at some future time claim Tupelo as their 
 birthplace. Mr. Allen's peculiar intonation 
 and serio-comic manner enhance the fun of his 
 spoken words. 
 
 122
 
 anD tumor of Smertcan politics 123 
 
 " I do not deem it absolutely necessary," he 
 said, as soon as the floor was yielded to him, "to 
 occupy the twenty minutes of time of this House 
 in order to pass this amendment. There has 
 developed here an amount of ignorance about 
 the town of Tupelo, where this fish-culture 
 station is to be established, that I think justifies 
 me, in the closing hours of this session, out of re- 
 gard not for Tupelo but for you gentlemen whom I 
 mention, in enlightening some of you on this 
 subject. I am not going into the realm of 
 fiction. I am not going to rely upon a tradition 
 that is current with our people that in the inter- 
 view between Columbus and Ferdinand and 
 Isabella, that he thought there must be some- 
 where on the globe a place like Tupelo. (Ap- 
 plause.) That is a tradition, but I do not rely 
 upon it. I come down to a later period to cor- 
 rect any great misapprehension that exists in the 
 minds of a great many people, and that is the 
 proposition that Ponce de Leon, when he landed 
 on the coast of Florida, started out to look for 
 the fountain of youth or for the limitless gold- 
 fields. I am sure it is no such thing. Ponce 
 de Leon, when he landed on the coast of Florida, 
 started to look for Tupelo. (Laughter.) Now, 
 you may think this is a vain boast, but his ill- 
 fated expedition was followed by that of Fernando
 
 124 Tuatt anO l)umot of Smcrican polftfce 
 
 de Soto a few years later, who had better luck 
 and actually got to Tupelo. 
 
 " This was about 1540," continued Mr. Allen, 
 courageously, as the House by this time was 
 concluding nearly every one of his sentences 
 with laughter. " After he had got there he found 
 an ideal place to stop. He stopped not exactly 
 in the town of Tupelo, but what will soon be 
 a part of its suburbs. (Laughter.) 
 
 "Now, in later years, in 1730, an explorer 
 with some peculiar French name started again 
 for Tupelo. (Laughter.) They landed where 
 de Soto had landed and took something of the 
 same route, and he came to Tupelo. The 
 French, the Spanish, and the English, for many 
 years contended for this territory, and, as I am 
 informed by those who are familiar with the 
 councils of this great nation at that time, the 
 only thing they were contending about was who 
 should have Tupelo. (Great laughter.) Finally 
 the United States, appreciating the importance 
 of this position, stepped in and acquired the ter- 
 ritory. (Renewed laughter.) 
 
 "Everything went on very well until about 
 1 86 1, when the South concluded to secede from 
 the Union. I am reliably informed that when 
 Horace Greeley and others sought Mr. Lincoln, 
 and asked him to let the wayward sisters depart
 
 Tttflit and tmmor ot Bmerican politics 125 
 
 in peace, he shook his head and said, ' No, this 
 secession takes from without our bounds Tupelo, 
 (laughter) and we will not submit to it.' And 
 it was to rescue to the world this town that 
 brought on the war. (Renewed laughter.) 
 
 "But, as I was saying, when the war began 
 and the forces of the Union were first directed 
 against the capital of the nation at Richmond, 
 we had some small reverses over here at Bull 
 Run, and then the armies of this country were 
 turned against Tupelo. (Laughter.) General 
 Grant went down to Shiloh and started for 
 Tupelo. Gen. Albert Sydney Johnson and 
 myself met him (laughter) at Shiloh, and if 
 General Johnson hadn't been killed and I 
 hadn't got scattered on the evening of that day, 
 there is no knowing what would have happened. 
 (Great laughter.) We had to fall back, but 
 finally we went back to Corinth, and they 
 pressed us so that we had to leave there, and 
 President Davis, with that great army, sent 
 General Beauregard back to Tupelo. He said : 
 ' Here will the Confederacy make the stand of 
 its life.' And so the determination of our 
 people was to make this fight the great fight of 
 the Confederacy, and so General Grant and 
 General Halleck turned off in other directions 
 and left that army there. (Laughter. )
 
 126 mit an> fjumot of American politics 
 
 "A little later, General Sturgiss started out 
 from Memphis with a pretty-well-equipped 
 army, and going to Tupelo he got down to 
 Brices' Crossroads, where he met the foe, and 
 decided to desist, and return to Memphis. 
 Later, Gen. A. J. Smith with a well-equipped 
 army started out for Tupelo, and General For- 
 rest and Stephen B. Lee attempted to stop him. 
 But he got between those two generals and 
 Tupelo, and got into the town. The capture 
 of Tupelo by Gen. A. J. Smith broke the spirit 
 of the Confederates, and we never did much 
 good after that. 
 
 " Mr. Chairman," declared Mr. Allen, taking 
 another tack as the House subsided from an- 
 other fit of laughter, "some thirty-one years 
 ago one of the most prominent and brilliant 
 young men of my State, having concluded his 
 studies and appreciating the importance of this 
 town, settled there, and afterwards became a 
 member of this body. What he has contributed 
 to it, I leave for others to say. My modesty 
 prevents me. (Laughter.) 
 
 " Now many of you have never been there. 
 I want to invite you all to come down. Oh, 
 if you could only stand upon College Hill in 
 Tupelo and see one of our sunsets. (Laughter.) 
 It is very near the centre of the earth. You
 
 TKflit anO Dumor of Smerican politics 127 
 
 can stand there and look around, and you will 
 see the horizon just about the same distance 
 from you in every direction. (Laughter.) The 
 sun, when doing business on a regular schedule, 
 passes almost directly over the town (laughter), 
 and when he does so, there is a hot time in the 
 old town. Such moons as we have down 
 there," he added with fine expression. "It is 
 the only place in the South to-day where we 
 have the same silvery Southern moon that we 
 used to have before the war right there at 
 Tupelo. (Laughter.) 
 
 "This, Mr. Chairman, is a proposition to 
 establish a fish-factory. Why, sir, fish will 
 travel overland for miles to get into the water 
 we have at Tupelo. Thousands and millions 
 of unborn fish are clamoring to this Congress 
 to-day for an opportunity to be hatched at 
 Tupelo." (Loud laughter.) 
 
 "I desire to ask this gentleman," interposed 
 Mr. Cannon, "not that my advocacy of his 
 amendment is necessary but do I not under- 
 stand, in point of fact, the Committee on 
 Merchant Marine and Fishery have made a 
 favorable report on this proposition for a 
 hatchery?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," answered Mr. Allen, stoutly; 
 " the Fish Commission recommended it, and
 
 128 TOUt ano Dumor of Bmerican politics 
 
 that committee of this House, that good com- 
 mittee of this House, the Committee on Mer- 
 chant Marine and Fisheries, has unanimously 
 recommended the appropriation. They are en- 
 lightened men, and they appreciate the im- 
 portance of it." 
 
 The question being taken, the amendment of 
 Mr. Allen was agreed to, and the consideration 
 of the Sundry Civil bill proceeded.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 " The Fourth Estate" 
 
 Preoccupied 
 
 THE other day a reporter called upon a man 
 prominent in politics who had particular reason 
 just then to be exasperated at the newspaper 
 this reporter represented. Sending in his card, 
 the reporter waited in the anteroom until a 
 small office boy beckoned him to step inside. 
 The politician sat at his desk, his hands gripping 
 the arms of his chair and his eyes staring 
 straight ahead with the stern, fixed expression 
 for which the man is noted. The reporter asked 
 a question, but the politician took no heed. 
 The question was repeated. Then the politi- 
 cian sprang to his feet. "Jim," he called, and 
 a muscular clerk rushed in from the outer room. 
 Then slowly, and in tones of icy distinctness he 
 said, " I want you to bring my rifle." The last 
 word came in a sort of burst, apparently of anger. 
 The use of a rifle to repel the attacks of report- 
 ers was a new idea to this one, and he scarcely 
 129
 
 130 TJQit anfc tmmoc of Bmerican politics 
 
 knew whether to stand his ground or flee for his 
 life. But the politician, in his suavest tones, 
 solved the problem. " Excuse me for keeping 
 you waiting," he said. "I was a trifle preoc- 
 cupied. I'm getting ready to go to the Adiron- 
 dacks to-morrow. Now, what can I do for 
 you ? ' ' 
 
 A Talkative Senator 
 
 Among the strong points of United States 
 Senator Thomas Collier Platt, of New York, is 
 his knowledge of human nature. He is seldom 
 mistaken in a man, and this is a trait that is 
 essential for political managers to possess. This 
 characteristic was never better illustrated than 
 by a transaction between the Republican " boss " 
 and a reporter on a New York evening news- 
 paper not long ago. Political matters were 
 warm in the Empire State, and Mr. Plait's 
 views were in great demand. One day the city 
 editor of this journal sent his best reporter 
 down to interview Mr. Platt at his business 
 office on lower Broadway. The reporter was a 
 favorite of the Senator's, and he had never be- 
 trayed his confidence. 
 
 " What do you want ? " the Senator asked. 
 
 " I want your views on the Brooklyn fight."
 
 TKflit ano Tbumor of Bmerican politics 131 
 
 "I'm busy to-day," returned the Senator. 
 " You know how I feel about that matter. 
 Write a little piece about it for me, and I'll 
 stand by it. Good-bye." 
 
 When the reporter got back to his office, the 
 city editor asked him what he had. 
 
 "A talk with Platt." 
 
 " Is it a good one?" 
 
 "First class. How much do you want of 
 it?" 
 
 "Let it run," replied the city editor. 
 
 So the reporter turned out a two-column in- 
 terview. The next day, up-town, the reporter 
 met the Senator in a hotel corridor. 
 
 " I was rather talkative yesterday, wasn't I? " 
 said the latter. 
 
 A Newspaper Episode 
 
 Mr. Henry Cook, the millionaire Democratic 
 candidate for the United States Congress for the 
 Fourteenth Massachusetts District, was violently 
 assailed by the leading daily paper of that dis- 
 trict. Wishing to counteract the effect of these 
 attacks, he bought from the proprietors of the 
 paper the right to get out one day's issue, pay- 
 ing for the privilege the sum of $10,000, be- 
 sides meeting all the expenses of the edition.
 
 132 Wit an> ibumor ot Bmerican politics 
 
 Having thus got it into his hands, Mr. Cook 
 filled the paper with condemnation and ridicule 
 of its own editor. He put in a single adver- 
 tisement only one for his son, who is a 
 plumber. It is said that the demand through- 
 out the State for that day's edition of the paper 
 gave it a circulation of a million copies.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 The Ladies 
 
 The Senate Versus the House 
 
 SENATOR VEST'S most famous anecdote is that 
 about Miss Bertie Allendale. It was told when 
 the two Chambers were arrayed against each 
 other on the tariff of 1894, and the House was 
 insisting that the country would go without any 
 tariff act, unless the Senate was prepared to 
 forego its own schedules and adopt those of the 
 House. 
 
 "In my younger days out West," said Mr. 
 Vest, " I went to a variety theatre one night. 
 
 " It was one of those primitive shows where 
 the stage-manager comes before the footlights 
 without a coat and waistcoat, and with his shirt 
 sleeves rolled up to the elbows, to announce the 
 next number of the programme. 
 
 " ' Miss Bertie Allendale,' remarked the stage- 
 manager, appearing in one of the interludes, 
 ' who has entranced two hemispheres with her 
 wonderful vocal powers, will now render, in her 
 133
 
 134 TKltt anfc fnimor of Bmertcan ipolitics 
 
 inimitable style, that exquisite vocal selection 
 entitled " Down in the Valley." ' 
 
 " A gentleman in a red flannel shirt rose in 
 the midst of the audience and exclaimed in an 
 impressive bass voice : ' Oh, thunder ! Miss 
 Allendale can't sing for green apples.' 
 
 "The manager, who had started to leave the 
 stage, halted and turned. An ugly light flashed 
 from the eye which swept the audience and 
 finally rested on the face of the interrupter. 
 Raising one shoulder higher than the other, 
 letting one hand drift significantly towards his 
 hip pocket, and thrusting his nether jaw for- 
 ward in his savage way, he observed with a de- 
 liberateness which emphasized every syllable, 
 ' Nevertheless and notwithstanding, Miss Bertie 
 Allendale will sing " Down in the Valley." ' 
 
 " And she did. So, likewise, nevertheless 
 and notwithstanding, the Senate schedules will 
 stand." 
 
 A Record for Missouri 
 
 A good story is told in Missouri at the ex- 
 pense of its once famous Governor, Claiborne 
 F. Jackson. Before he solved the enigma of 
 love-lock he had married five sisters ! in rea-
 
 and tbumor of Bmcrtcan {politics 135 
 
 sonable lapses of consecutiveness. After one 
 wife had been lost and appropriately mourned, 
 he espoused another; and he kept his courting 
 within a narrow circle of his own relatives, for 
 he rather liked the family. 
 
 The venerable father of these girls was almost 
 deaf, and when the Governor went to this octo- 
 genarian to ask for his surviving daughter, the 
 following conversation ensued : 
 
 " I want Lizzie ! " 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 " I want you to let me have Eliz-a-beth ! " 
 
 " Oh, you want Lizzie, do you ? What for ? " 
 
 " For my wife ! " 
 
 "For life?" 
 
 "I want to marry her ! " 
 
 "Oh, yes ! Just so, I hear you, boy." 
 
 " I'm precious glad you do ! " muttered the 
 Governor. 
 
 " Well," slowly responded the veteran, " you 
 needn't halloa so that the whole neighborhood 
 knows it ! Yes ; you can have her. You've 
 got 'em all now, my lad ; but for goodness' sake, 
 if anything happens to that 'ere poor misguided 
 gal, don't come and ask me for the old 
 woman ! " 
 
 Jackson solemnly promised that he never 
 would.
 
 
 
 136 TWlit an> fjumor ot Bmerican politics 
 
 Thieves in the " House " 
 
 The wife of a well-known and very popular 
 member of the House of Representatives once 
 told a story on Senator Vest which was much 
 appreciated. 
 
 The gentleman came in rather late one night 
 after a convivial time. He was tired and 
 sleepy, and scarcely struck the bed before he 
 was in a profound slumber. Towards morning 
 his good wife became alarmed by unusual 
 noises, and immediately visions of plunder and 
 violence disturbed her imagination. She shook 
 her spouse with vigor and cried, "Jim, wake 
 up; wake up I " He gave an extra snort and 
 snore, and turned over. She shook him again, 
 screaming: "Jim, you must get up; there 
 are thieves in the house ! " 
 
 Arousing himself for a moment he said : 
 " Oh, no, my dear, there are no thieves in the 
 House; they are all in the Senate." 
 
 A Black Sheep 
 
 One of the stories that the late Senator Palmer 
 was fondest of telling, had to do with an aged 
 gentlewoman, bearing the same name as him- 
 self, who lives somewhere down on the eastern 
 shore of Virginia, in the county where Senator
 
 Txlit ano twmor of Hmcrtcan politics 137 
 
 Palmer's grandfather was born. One of the 
 Senator's Washington friends happened to meet 
 the old lady down there, and asked her if she 
 were not a kinswoman of his. She did not 
 know, but thought perhaps she might be. The 
 gentleman was of Virginian descent, was he 
 not ? And in the United States Senate ? Yes, 
 she was quite sure he was a kinsman. 
 
 " Was he in the army? " she asked. 
 
 "Yes," answered the Senator's friend, "he 
 was in the army and a General." 
 
 The old lady was positive that he was a re- 
 lation. 
 
 " But," went on the friend, " he was a Gen- 
 eral in the Union army." 
 
 The old lady's face fell, but she rallied. 
 
 " Well," she said, " you know there's a black 
 sheep in every family." 
 
 A Homely Bachelor 
 
 A bachelor member of Congress, who is not 
 as handsome as Apollo, dropped into Clerk Me- /"*i 
 Dowell's office the other day to seek sympathy, (., 
 because the lady on whom he had looked with 
 favor was about to be married to another man. 
 
 "That reminds me," said Mr. McDowell, 
 " of an incident which happened when Gov.
 
 138 TWUt anfc t)umot of Bmerican Politics 
 
 Dick Oglesby went down to Joliet to inspect 
 the State prison. In one of the cells was a 
 very ugly man. 
 
 "'How did you get in here?' asked 
 Oglesby. 
 
 "'Abduction,' was the reply. 'I tried to 
 run off with a girl, and they caught me.' 
 
 '"I'll pardon you as soon as I get back 
 to Springfield,' said -the Governor. ' I don't 
 see how you could expect to get a wife in any 
 other way.' ' 
 
 The homely bachelor Congressman laughed 
 loudly. Then, as the application of the story 
 dawned upon him, the smile faded from his face, 
 and he walked out of McDowell's office without 
 saying a word. 
 
 The Slowness of Washington 
 In a letter from Washington, a certain new 
 Congressman notes the slow manner in which 
 business is transacted in the National Capital, 
 and gives the following story to illustrate it : 
 
 State Senator Fitzpatrick, of Kansas, was in 
 Washington on Department business. He 
 couldn't get this business pushed through no 
 matter how much he hurried. One day he met 
 National Committeeman Dave Mulvane, and
 
 "WHit anfc t>umoc of Smerican politics 139 
 
 complained that during the whole day he 
 hadn't been able to accomplish a single thing. 
 
 "Didn't you write a letter to your wife?" 
 asked Dave. 
 
 " Yes, I did," responded Fitzpatrick. 
 
 " Well, don't kick. You can do only one 
 thing a day in this city, and you've done it." 
 
 Classified Service 
 
 Senator Burrows of Kalamazoo and Senator 
 McMillan of Detroit are not only colleagues, 
 but also close friends. They are given to 
 joking each other at times. One day Senator 
 Burrows had occasion to go to the Department 
 of Agriculture in behalf of a constituent. On 
 his way back, he met Senator McMillan, who 
 stopped him and said : 
 
 " Where have you been, my son ? " 
 
 "Over to the Agricultural Department," re- 
 plied Senator Burrows. 
 
 "Did you get anything?" asked Senator 
 McMillan. 
 
 "Nothing but a pretty plant they gave me 
 for my wife," replied Senator Burrows. "That 
 was the only thing I could find that was not in 
 the classified service."
 
 140 "edit ano twmor of Bmerican politics" 
 
 Didn't Know Their Business 
 "Looks are not always to be counted for 
 or against a man," said a certain Representative 
 in Congress, whose appearance is certainly 
 against him, though he has been able very 
 largely to get the better of his handicap, and at- 
 tain to more than ordinary Congressional dis- 
 tinction. " I recall an incident in my own 
 career, after I had served my first term. I was 
 out stirring up the back districts for a reelec- 
 tion, and one day, on my way to a speech- 
 making appointment, I stopped at a mountain 
 farmhouse to get dinner. The lady of the 
 house was a talkative kind of a soul, and we 
 chatted along very pleasantly as I ate. At last 
 I told her who I was. 
 
 "'Oh,' she said, 'you air a Congressman, 
 air you ? ' 
 
 " ' I have that honor, madam,' I responded, 
 bowing over my plate of pork. 
 " ' Where do you work ? ' 
 " ' The legislative part of it is done in Wash- 
 ington City.' 
 
 " ' What kind of wages do you git ? ' 
 " ' Five thousand dollars a year salary, madam.' 
 " ' Five thousand dollars a year ! ' she ejacu- 
 lated. ' Why, this whole farm ain't wuth more'n 
 a thousand.'
 
 lUit attO tbumoc of American politics 141 
 
 "'I presume not,' I said, not knowing ex- 
 actly how to interpret her astonishment. 
 
 " 'And do you mean to tell me that you git 
 five thousand dollars a year ? ' she asked, with 
 a somewhat unpleasant emphasis on the ' you.' 
 
 " ' I certainly do, madam, ' 1 assured her ; 
 and she went out, leaving the door ajar inad- 
 vertently, I am sure, for she went on talking to 
 some one in the kitchen, and I could hear her. 
 
 "'What do you think, Mariar ? ' she said. 
 ' That man in there eatin' tells me he gits five 
 thousand dollars a year fer bein' a Congress- 
 man.' 
 
 "'I reckon that's all right,' responded the 
 unseen Maria, ' fer I've heerd my husband say 
 that wuz what they got reg'ler.' 
 
 " ' \Yell, mebbe they do,' said my hostess in 
 conclusive tones ; ' but ef they pay that man in 
 there any sech wages as them, all I've got to 
 say is that the man that hires Congressmen 
 don't know his business.' " 
 
 The Governor's Son 
 
 The mention of ladies in politics naturally 
 suggests the children, concerning whom several 
 good stories are here given. 
 
 During the late ex-Governor Wolcott's term
 
 142 iciit anD f)umor of Smerican politics 
 
 of office, his youngest son, Oliver, was in one of 
 the primary classes of a school. The teacher 
 was one day asking questions of her little pupils, 
 to give them a chance to show what they knew 
 about one thing and another, for the entertain- 
 ment of a lady who was visiting the school, and 
 she finally inquired : 
 
 " Can any one tell me who is the Governor 
 of Massachusetts ? " 
 
 No one could tell, not even little Oliver. 
 
 The teacher then told every one of the pupils 
 when he got home to ask his father, so as to be 
 ready to tell her the next day. Accordingly, 
 when the class assembled the following morning, 
 she gave out the question, calling on Oliver to 
 see what he might have to say about it. Oliver 
 answered : 
 
 " Pa says he's the Governor. But I don't 
 believe it, 'cause he's always making fun of 
 everythin'." 
 
 "Early to Bed" 
 
 A member of Congress who shall be nameless, 
 but who sits very close to Representative 
 Loudenslager, of New Jersey, on the floor of the 
 House, has an eight year old son. Yesterday, 
 he told Mr. Loudenslager this story :
 
 an> tumor of Bmcrican politics 143 
 
 "Last night," he said, " about nine o'clock, 
 I told my boy that it was time to go to bed. 
 He wasn't a bit anxious to obey me, and I had 
 to speak to him -two or three times pretty 
 sharply. Finally I said to him that there was 
 an old adage which always came true, and 
 which he ought to learn and remember. Then 
 I quoted to him the old lines : 
 
 " ' Early to bed and early to rise 
 
 Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.' 
 
 " My boy looked at me for a moment," con- 
 tinued the Congressman, "and then he said: 
 ' Pop, you didn't go to bed early when you were 
 a boy, did you? ' " 
 
 " You certainly have a bright boy," observed 
 Mr. Loudenslager, and the Congressman didn't 
 know whether to take it as a compliment or not. 
 
 The Reason He Was Popular 
 One winter, Representative Sutherland took 
 quite a fancy to one of the House pages, and 
 had him at his house frequently. He noticed 
 the next winter, the boy was not around as 
 much as before, although he saw him at the 
 House often. 
 
 " How is it, my boy," said Mr. Sutherland to 
 the page, affectionately putting his arm about
 
 144 Trait ano tw'mor of american politics 
 
 his shoulders, "that I do not see much of you 
 any more ? Last winter you used to come up to 
 my house very often, and I don't think you 
 have been there this winter at all." 
 - "Well, you see, Mr. Sutherland," said the 
 page, after some hesitation, "you ain't re- 
 elected." 
 
 " Cyclops " in the Senate 
 
 Some of the little pages in Congress are mere 
 babes, and their adolescence sometimes causes 
 laughable blunders. Here is a case in point : 
 
 Senator Tillman called a page to him one 
 day, and asked him the name of a new Senator 
 who was sitting on the Republican side of the 
 Chamber. The page, being a recent appointee, 
 was not only ignorant of the new Senator's 
 name, but did not even know Tillman. In his 
 dilemma, he went to Journal Clerk Macdonald. 
 
 " Who is the man with one eye ? " he asked, 
 referring to Mr. Tillman. 
 
 " Cyclops," replied Macdonald, without look- 
 ing up from his book, and thinking of the gen- 
 tleman who figures in ancient mythology. 
 
 The boy rushed back to Tillman. " Now, 
 Senator Cyclops," he said triumphantly, " I 
 will go and find out the other Senator's name."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 Political Retorts 
 
 A Clover Club Dinner 
 
 THE Clover Club dinners at Philadelphia are 
 renowned for the distinguished guests, the 
 unbridled chaffing, the brilliant speeches, and 
 the unique key-note of the gathering that no 
 one shall object to anything that is said. 
 
 Cabinet Ministers, Senators, great lawyers, 
 statesmen, financiers, and even the President of 
 the United States, sit, at one time or another, 
 around the genial board in Philadelphia. 
 
 It was only fit that the witticism concerning 
 Pennsylvania politics should be made at this 
 gathering. Mr. Lincoln Eyre was the creator 
 of it. Mr. Eyre is one of the bright young 
 lawyers of the city, a keen debater, daring in 
 speech, quick in his choice of words. 
 
 While he was speaking of the condition of 
 
 politics in Pennsylvania, a prominent guest at 
 
 the table, thinking to confuse the young lawyer, 
 
 called to him : " Oh ! give us the briefest 
 
 145
 
 146 "edit ano tmmor of Bmerfcan politics 
 
 definition of the political condition here, and we 
 will go on with our dinner." 
 
 Mr. Eyre turned quickly to the speaker while 
 a hundred faces laughed up at his. 
 
 "Your request shall be granted," he said, 
 " and I will give you the condition in Latin. 
 It is sine qua (Quay) n0n." 
 
 Colonel versus Congressman 
 One evening some time ago, there was an im- 
 promptu gathering of story-tellers in the rotunda 
 of the Phcenix Hotel, including Senator Joseph 
 W. Bailey, of Texas, Ex-Governor James B. 
 McCreary, of Madison County, and Jacob T. 
 Patrick, of Salyersville, a well-known mountain 
 Republican. Governor McCreary several times 
 addressed Mr. Patrick as " Judge," to which 
 the latter finally replied : 
 
 " Governor, I am not a Judge, and never 
 was ; and more than that, I have no title, mili- 
 tary, judicial, or professional. I am plain Jake 
 Patrick, the only strictly private citizen in the 
 entire Commonwealth of Kentucky. I am not 
 even ' Mister. ' ' ' 
 
 " Well, sir," spoke up the Texas statesman, 
 " you are unique. I should think you ought 
 to be at least a ' Colonel,' as I have always un-
 
 Wit and twmor of Hmerican politics 147 
 
 derstood that in Kentucky, it is the easiest and 
 cheapest thing in the world to be a ' Colonel.' " 
 
 " There is something in that," was Patrick's 
 quick response ; " it is almost as easy and cheap 
 to be a ' Colonel ' in Kentucky as to be a Con- 
 gressman in Texas." 
 
 The laugh was on Bailey and he squared the 
 matter by asking the crowd to refresh itself at 
 his expense. 
 
 " If Jackson Was Alive To-day " 
 
 In opposing the recent resolution in the Mis- 
 souri House of Representatives, which provided 
 for an appropriate Jefferson City celebration of 
 the anniversary of New Orleans and the honor- 
 ing of the memory of Andrew Jackson, Repre- 
 sentative Murphy, Republican, of St. Louis, did 
 not accomplish much beyond placing himself 
 on record as perpetuating an exceptionally pure 
 example of the Irish bull. 
 
 " Present day Democrats," declared Mr. 
 Murphy with fine fervor, " have little reason to 
 feel proud of Andy Jackson. And if Andy 
 Jackson was alive to-day," Mr. Murphy ear- 
 nestly concluded, " he would be glad he was 
 dead."
 
 148 "Wfllt anfc tumor of Bmerican politics 
 
 An All Night Session 
 
 "Many years ago," said an old employee of 
 the House, " we had a very exciting night ses- 
 sion. At four o'clock in the morning the ser- 
 geant-at-arms was sent out for absentees. Among 
 other calls, he went for Congressman Blank, who 
 lived at the Metropolitan Hotel. 
 
 " Thundering at the door he awoke the legis- 
 lator and announced his errand. The honor- 
 able gentleman, who hailed from South Carolina, 
 gruffly and briefly ordered the official to go to 
 hades. Returning to the House, the sergeant- 
 at-arms advanced before the Speaker and said : 
 
 " 'Mr. Speaker, I summoned Mr. Blank and 
 he told me to go to hades ; and I have 
 come ' 
 
 "Here he was interrupted by a shout of 
 laughter, which prevented him from completing 
 his sentence. The House got in a good humor 
 after this break, and adjourned." 
 
 Patriotism or Salary 
 
 A prominent city officer who entered politics 
 and obtained a good office during a " reform " 
 movement some years ago, in the course of a 
 public speech, after he was in office, said :
 
 UClit anD tumor of Bmertcan poUttce 149 
 
 " My fellow citizens, I entered politics as a mat- 
 ter of pure patriotism." 
 
 " What's your salary ? " asked a man in the 
 audience, and when another man shouted, "It's 
 $7,500 a year ! " the speaker confined his sub- 
 sequent remarks to abuse of the opposition. 
 
 Harrison Consumes " Fuel " 
 
 Benjamin Harrison, an ancestor of our ex- 
 President and a signer of the Declaration of In- 
 dependence, was fond of the good things of this 
 life. While a member of the First Congress, 
 which met in Philadelphia, he was, on one oc- 
 casion, joined by a friend as he left the Con- 
 gressional Hall. Wishing to ask his friend to 
 join him in a bumper, he took him to a certain 
 place and called for two glasses of brandy and 
 water. The man in charge replied that liquors 
 were not included in the supplies furnished to 
 Congressmen. 
 
 " What is it, then, that I see New England 
 members come here and drink ? " 
 
 " Molasses and water, which they have 
 charged to stationery," was the reply. 
 
 "Very well," said Harrison, "give me 
 brandy and water and charge it as fuel."
 
 150 "Wait ano Dumoc of Smerican politics 
 
 A Big Democratic Gain 
 
 Grosvenor of Ohio and Champ Clark of 
 Missouri met one day for the first time since 
 they engaged in a joint debate at the Mountain 
 Lake Park. 
 
 " Hello, Champ ! " said Grosvenor. " How 
 did you get through the campaign? " 
 
 "Splendidly," replied Clark. "I gained 
 twenty-five pounds." 
 
 "Well," commented Grosvenor, "I con- 
 gratulate you. That is the first Democratic 
 gain of which I have heard." 
 
 An Alabama Moonshiner 
 
 Representative Clayton, of Alabama, recently 
 told this story : "I was Government revenue 
 official down in my State, and when I started 
 in, I wished to make a record. I haled an old 
 fellow into court for selling moonshine whiskey. 
 When I got him on the stand, I asked him 
 plump out : 
 
 " 'Did you ever make any moonshine whis- 
 key?' 
 
 " The old man looked at me with tears in his 
 eyes. 'Henry,' he said, 'I knowed your fa- 
 ther, and he never would have asked me no 
 such question as that.' 
 
 "I let him go."
 
 and twmor of Bmerican politics 151 
 
 Country Highwaymen 
 
 Sam Rawson occasionally said a good thing, 
 and one of these occasions chanced to be the 
 Town-meeting. The people of Sam's village 
 could not understand how the money appropri- 
 ated for the roads had vanished with such poor 
 results. 
 
 A stretch of road running past Sam's house 
 was in notoriously poor condition, although 
 Sam declared that he had paid liberally to have 
 it put in good order, and there was general in- 
 terest when Sam rose to make his statement be- 
 fore the selectmen. 
 
 " I'd just like to say one thing," he drawled, 
 heedless of the fact that he had interrupted an 
 indignant neighbor. " I don't want to make 
 any fuss, but I'd just like to ask the honorable 
 board of highwaymen " 
 
 That was as far as he could get. A roar of 
 laughter swept over the Town-meeting and 
 showed its effects in the red faces of the "high- 
 waymen." 
 
 Corn in Kansas 
 
 When the House River and Harbor Com- 
 mittee was sitting up nights with its appropria- 
 tion bill, a hearing was given one evening to
 
 152 "Odtt ano Dumor of Bmerican politics 
 
 Colonel " Pete " Hepburn and others of adjoining 
 States, to plead in behalf of the Missouri River. 
 Colonel Hepburn held the floor and, with his 
 usual eloquence and persuasive power, was dis- 
 coursing on the great commerce of that water- 
 way and the wonderful fertility of the adjoining 
 lands. 
 
 "Why, gentlemen," he declared, "the soil 
 is deep and mellow; corn grows twenty feet 
 high there." 
 
 "And has seven ears on a stalk," broke in 
 Representative Charlie Curtis, of Kansas, mis- 
 chievously. 
 
 " And there is shelled corn where the pith of 
 the ear ought to be," asserted Representative 
 Dave Mercer of Nebraska. 
 
 Colonel Hepburn was abashed at this inter- 
 ruption of his eloquence. " That is a Kansas 
 and a Nebraska lie," he retorted, following a 
 brief pause. " I do not indorse it." 
 
 Too Poor to Lose 
 
 Several years ago a Southern Kansas politician 
 who had an excellent reputation for not paying 
 his debts, found himself a defendant in a law- 
 suit. He employed Archie Williams, now gen- 
 eral attorney for the Union Pacific, to defend
 
 watt ano fjumot of amerfcan politics 153 
 
 him. Williams won the case. After the ver- 
 dict for the defendant was returned, the poli- 
 tician asked Mr. Williams the amount of his 
 fee. 
 
 "It is $200," said Williams. 
 
 "Great Scott, Archie," said the politician, 
 " that isn't enough. Why, you earned $1,000, 
 and you must make out your bill for that 
 amount." 
 
 " No, I won't do it," replied Williams. " I 
 am too poor a man. Two hundred is all I can 
 afford to lose." 
 
 Time For Him to Leave 
 
 Some years ago Idaho sent a man to the Sen- 
 ate whose name was McConnell. He enjoyed 
 a brief term of about five or six weeks, and then 
 he disappeared. Yesterday Mr. McConnell 
 visited the Senate Chamber again. Very few of 
 the Senators knew him. 
 
 His presence, however, recalled the fact that 
 when he was in the Senate, he lifted up his 
 voice and delivered a speech. He was then an 
 almost utter stranger. Old Senator Edmunds 
 looked at him in astonishment. 
 
 " Who is this man talking ? " asked Edmunds 
 of a page.
 
 154 TKatt ano f)umor of Bmerican politics 
 
 "Senator McConnell, of Idaho," responded 
 the boy. 
 
 " Well," said Edmunds, " when it comes to 
 the point that in the United States Senate a 
 man whom I never saw before can make a 
 speech, I think it is time for me to leave." 
 
 And then Mr. Edmunds, in disgust, retired 
 to the cloak-room. 
 
 The Way They Do in Mississippi 
 The manner of conducting elections in the 
 several States was under discussion in the cloak- 
 room in connection with a number of contested 
 election cases pending before House committees. 
 John Allen was defending, with unusual warmth 
 and vigor, the manner of conducting elections 
 in his own State, Mississippi. He waxed elo- 
 quent on the subject, and was in the midst of a 
 most forceful argument, when, happening to 
 glance around the cloak-room, he noticed the 
 looks of incredulity and amusement on the faces 
 of some of his former colleagues in the House. 
 John stammered, halted, and closed with : 
 
 "Well well, it is true that we have fair 
 elections in Mississippi, but every election morn- 
 ing just before the polls open, we fire off a few 
 guns and cannon, just to let the negroes know 
 that it is to be a fair election."
 
 TWlit anD Ibumoc of american politics 155 
 
 Not So Sure He Was Right 
 
 Senator Julius Caesar Burrows, of Michigan, 
 met Mr. Bryan in the marble room of the Sen- 
 ate one day. 
 
 "Senator," said the Colonel, "I believe that 
 you favor the election of Senators by the 
 people. ' ' 
 
 ' ' I have always voted that way, ' ' responded 
 Mr. Burrows. 
 
 "Well," replied Bryan, "I seldom have a 
 chance to agree with a Republican, but in this 
 case, I stand with you." 
 
 " Which makes me think," returned Burrows, 
 good humoredly, "that if you think as I do, I 
 may have made a mistake." 
 
 Repartee in the Senate 
 
 In these days of Tillmanism, when, if Sen- 
 ators are not slugging their colleagues, they may 
 be calling each other liars, the following cour- 
 teous interchange of verbal shafts, that are 
 pointed but not poisoned, will be read with 
 interest : 
 
 Mr. Bailey: "The Senator from Wisconsin 
 is so good a lawyer that he knows when he is 
 coming up against a hard proposition, and he 
 goes around it."
 
 156 "Watt anD tumor ot Bmerfcan politics 
 
 Mr. Spooner : "I may have gone around 
 the Senator, but I did not go around the propo- 
 sition." (Laughter.) 
 
 Mr. Bailey: "I am ready to concede that 
 the Senator from Wisconsin can easily get 
 around me, small as he is." 
 
 Mr. Spooner: "The man who can go 
 around the Senator can go around anything."
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Some Personal * ' Appreciations ' ' 
 
 David B. Hill 
 
 THE Hon. David Bennett Hill is nothing if not 
 vigorous and terse in his mode of speech. When 
 in the Senate, he was always of the sledge- 
 hammer type of speaker, and it would seem 
 that he has not grown rusty in this art during 
 his retirement at Wolfert's Roost. It was just 
 after the Kansas City Convention that he 
 delivered himself of a characteristic speech on 
 the making of Presidents. He was returning 
 from his struggle there to maintain a semblance 
 of conservatism before the convention, when he 
 was accosted by a friend who persisted in ask- 
 ing him all manner of questions: what he 
 thought of the platform, what he thought of 
 the chairman, what he thought of Croker, and 
 finally, what he thought of Bryan as standard- 
 bearer. The ex-Senator pushed back his hat 
 until his bald head became visible, and pulling 
 fiercely at his mustache, replied : 
 157
 
 158 Wit anO -fcumor of american politics 
 
 "Oh, well, Presidents are very much like 
 sausages." 
 
 " How so? " asked the astonished questioner. 
 
 " Oh, you like 'em better when you don't see 
 'em made," replied the ex-Senator. 
 
 General Harrison 
 
 "General Harrison," said Senator P , 
 
 " was one of the strongest, soundest, ablest men 
 we have had in public life. He was always re- 
 served, and was rather handicapped by an 
 unresponsive, cold manner. Why, I remem- 
 ber " and here the Senator began to 
 
 chuckle to himself, and the whole table leaned 
 forward full of expectation. The Senator 
 went on : 
 
 " When Harrison was in the Senate, he al- 
 ways used to bring his luncheon to the com- 
 mittee-room. He carried it in his coat-pocket, 
 and would eat it while he went on with his 
 work. One day, when he got it out as usual 
 from his pocket, we saw him look it all over 
 ruefully, and it did look rather flat and dubious. 
 He finally remarked to us that he guessed he 
 must have sat on it accidentally. One of his 
 colleagues, who had recently been ignored by 
 Harrison, spoke up impulsively. 'Well, by
 
 lUit and t)umor of Bmerican politics 159 
 
 Jove, Harrison, if you've sat on it, I'll bet you 
 a sixpence it is frozen solid ; ' and of course a 
 shout went up from the whole committee." 
 
 " How did he take it ? " asked I, when the 
 merriment had died away. 
 
 "Oh," returned the Senator, "he joined in 
 the laugh. It was too good a one on him and 
 he had to unbend." 
 
 A Pennsylvania Congressman 
 
 Marriott Brosius, Congressman from the 
 Tenth District of Pennsylvania, has a voice 
 that is famous. 
 
 Not long ago, a member of the House was 
 passing out of the front door of the Capitol 
 with a friend, when they heard a crash behind 
 them as of distant thunder. 
 
 " What was that noise? " inquired the friend. 
 
 "I don't know," replied the Congressman, 
 "unless it was Brosius whispering." 
 
 Senator Jones or Senator Morgan 
 The strained relations between Senator Vest, 
 of Missouri, and Senator Morgan, of Alabama, 
 are well understood by those who "know the 
 ropes" in Washington. The story is told of a 
 new Senator who had been offended by a col-
 
 160 TKHit ano Dumor of American politics 
 
 league, and who approached Senator Vest and 
 said: "Isn't Jones the worst ass that ever 
 broke into public life ? " The frail and vener- 
 able statesman from Missouri is reported to have 
 replied : "I can't say. You know I am pretty 
 thoroughly committed on that proposition to 
 Morgan." 
 
 Governor Odell of New York 
 
 Gov. Benjamin B. Odell, Jr., and his aged 
 father were talking with a group of political 
 friends in the Fifth Avenue Hotel during a re- 
 cent visit to New York, when reference was made 
 to the unanimity with which Odell was nomi- 
 nated for Governor. 
 
 "Why, I wasn't nominated at all," said the 
 Governor with a laugh. 
 
 "Who was then?" asked Chairman Ten 
 Eyck. 
 
 "My father," replied the Governor. "The 
 convention paid no attention to the ' Jr. ' part of 
 my name, and nominated Benjamin B. Odell. 
 That's father. When I got home after the con- 
 vention, I explained to father, and told him he 
 had been nominated. 
 
 " ' Well, Ben,' said father, ' mebby that's so, 
 but I guess everybody thinks it's you, and you'd
 
 IUit and twmor ot Smerican politics 161 
 
 better take it anyway.' So I did, but I've often 
 thought father would make the better Governor." 
 
 Odell, Sr., had listened to his son's story with 
 a quiet twinkle in his fine old eyes. 
 
 Then he said : 
 
 " Ben, did you suppose that after having been 
 Mayor of Newburg for the last forty years, I 
 would stoop to run for a State office?" 
 
 There was a general laugh and it was up to 
 the Governor. 
 
 Senator Vest 
 
 When the Senate Committee on Commerce 
 was in session one day, Senator Vest's chair 
 became unruly, and he was finally compelled to 
 occupy another one. 
 
 "Vest," said Senator Mason, "you are get- 
 ting too fat and heavy, otherwise that chair 
 would not have gone back on you." 
 
 "Heavy!" exclaimed Vest, as he looked at 
 his diminutive form. " I couldn't break an egg 
 if I fell on it !" 
 
 The Speaker of the House 
 Many years ago an Allen county man an- 
 nounced himself as a candidate for the Legisla- 
 ture.
 
 162 TJGltt an& t>umor of American politics 
 
 " But you can't make a speech," objected a 
 -friend. 
 
 "Oh, that doesn't make any difference," in- 
 nocently responded the candidate, "for the 
 House always elects a speaker." 
 
 A Georgia Judge 
 
 "Judge William Underwood was one of the 
 best men my State ever produced," said Repre- 
 sentative Adamson of Georgia the other day. 
 " He spoke the truth on every occasion. His son 
 John wanted an office under Governor Crawford, 
 and asked him for a ' certificate of character. ' 
 The father complied, and wrote to the Governor 
 as follows : 
 
 " ' My dear Friend : This will be handed to 
 you by my son, John. He has the greatest 
 thirst for an office with the least capacity to fill 
 one of any fellow you ever saw. ' 
 
 "John didn't get the office, but his father 
 lived to see him a shrewd politician and a fine 
 lawyer." 
 
 A New York Democrat 
 
 Mayor Varian, one of New York's early chief 
 officers, was a rugged, uneducated, popular 
 Democratic politician. While Mayor Varian
 
 TIClit and tmmot of Bmetican politics 163 
 
 was a State Senator, Mayor Bowne accosted him 
 one day while reading a newspaper in front of 
 the Stanwix House in Albany. 
 
 "I see we have a new Street-Cleaning Com- 
 missioner in the city," said Varian. 
 
 "Indeed," answered Bowne. "I have not 
 heard of him. Who is he? " 
 
 Varian read from the newspaper: "'Last 
 night, Old Boreas came to town ; and, thanks to 
 his efforts, the streets this morning are in a pass- 
 ably fair condition.' " "Old Boreas," added 
 Varian, reflectively. " I thought I knew every 
 Democrat in New York, but I never heard of 
 him." 
 
 " Uncle Joe " Cannon 
 
 Senator Hoar has never been accused of being 
 a humorist. In fact, he is, as a rule, the grav- 
 est of all "the grave and reverent Senators." 
 But occasionally, he shows that he has a spark 
 of the humorous in his composition. One day 
 recently, the Massachusetts statesman, "Uncle 
 Joe" Cannon, and several others were talking 
 about a certain speech attributed to Charles 
 Sumner. Senator Hoar expressed conviction 
 that Mr. Sumner had not said a number of things 
 attributed to him by the record, and " Uncle
 
 164 TMUt anfc tumor of Smerlcan politics 
 
 Joe " contended that there was no sort of doubt 
 about his having said them. The discussion 
 was becoming warm and interesting when Sen- 
 ator Hoar, as if to bring it to a close, exclaimed : 
 
 " When I die and go to heaven I will look up 
 Charles Sumner at the earliest possible moment 
 and say to him : ' Charlie, I am sure you never 
 said the things attributed to you by the record.' ' 
 
 "But suppose you do not find him there? " 
 " Uncle Joe " asked with his blandest smile. 
 
 " In that event, Joe," said the veteran Massa- 
 chusetts statesman, without moving a muscle of 
 his face, " I will have to beg that you deliver 
 the message to him." 
 
 Governor in Name Only 
 
 The reply of a foreigner who was being 
 naturalized in Pennsylvania to the question who 
 was President of the United States, that he was 
 Mark Hanna, recalls an anecdote familiar in 
 the last generation, but which may be new 
 to some in the present one. The scene of it 
 was on a stage-coach in stage-coach days in 
 New York. William H. Seward, then Gover- 
 nor of the State, was riding there, and en- 
 countered a fellow-traveler who did not know 
 him. They got into a discussion on politics, in
 
 Trait ano twmor ot Hmerican politics 165 
 
 the course of which Governor Seward told the 
 traveler who he was. The man treated it as a 
 joke, and steadily refused to credit it as any- 
 thing else. This finally nettled Mr. Seward, 
 and he said to him : "I will prove to you 
 that I ana Governor Seward. There is the 
 stage-driver outside, who knows me well; we 
 will refer the case to him." When the stage 
 stopped, therefore, the two approached the 
 driver, and Mr. Seward came with the query, 
 "Am I not Governor of New York?" 
 " No ! " was the driver's prompt and curt 
 response. Mr. Seward amazed and bewildered, 
 next asked: " Who is, then?" " Thurlow 
 Weed ! " came swiftly back in reply. It is 
 needless to say that the driver was a sturdy 
 Democrat. 
 
 A Tennessee Governor 
 
 A certain State Governor was noted for being 
 as tender-hearted as a woman, and the way he 
 pardoned convicts was something appalling. He 
 was waited upon by a committee of the Legis- 
 lature, who very flatly, and in no uncertain 
 way, told him that this "wholesale pardoning 
 must stop." 
 
 "Gov'nor Bob" looked at the committee,
 
 166 "edit anfc t>umor of Smerican politics 
 
 tapped a bell, asked for his pardon clerk, and 
 when he came said, "Make out pardons for 
 every man in the penitentiary." 
 
 The clerk bowed and withdrew. 
 
 Then the Governor looked at the committee, 
 who were staring as if they thought he was 
 going mad. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he said, finally, "I am Gov- 
 ernor of Tennessee, and if this committee or 
 any other ever again seeks to interfere with my 
 constitutional right to pardon, I'll sign every 
 one of those pardons which the clerk is making 
 out. Good-morning ! " 
 
 A Reply That "Turned the Tide" 
 While Governor Shaw of Iowa is very much 
 given to quoting statistics and to dry logic 
 in his speeches, he occasionally introduces a 
 good story, and is also quick at repartee when 
 interrupted. Several times this latter ability 
 has served him in good stead. It was out in 
 Nebraska last year that the Governor addressed 
 a meeting that was especially troublesome. A 
 number of the long-whiskered Populists were 
 rather inclined to doubt the statements made by 
 him on the gold and tariff questions. To make 
 the situation the more embarrassing, a half-
 
 "Cdlt ano f>umot of Zlmerfcan politics 167 
 
 drunken fellow in the back part of the room 
 broke out several times, and had to be quieted. 
 
 The Governor waited patiently his opportu- 
 nity to get in a telling blow that would turn the 
 laughter and ridicule against the offenders. 
 Several times questions were asked, and were 
 answered by the speaker without any signs 
 of irritation being shown. A man well down in 
 front insisted on asking a question every five 
 minutes on an average. He usually prefaced 
 them by such remarks as "Just a minute, 
 please," or "Let me interrupt for a minute." 
 In an- unhappy moment he broke in with, 
 
 "Pardon me, but " Before he could 
 
 finish, the Governor, a rather self-satisfied look 
 spreading over his face, replied: "Well, I've 
 pardoned lots worse fellows than you in my 
 time, and I suppose it would be unjust to draw 
 the line here." 
 
 The fellow sat down, and during the remain- 
 ing two hours of the address, there were no 
 more interruptions. 
 
 Thomas B. Reed 
 
 Many stories have been told of the late 
 Thomas B. Reed that show his ever-ready wit. 
 On one occasion he had made an appointment
 
 168 TRflit ano Dumor of Bmerfcan politics 
 
 with a friend who lived in a town some distance 
 from Washington. He was impatiently protest- 
 ing at his tardiness, when a telegram brought 
 an explanation of its cause. 
 
 "Washout on the line," ran the message. 
 The Maine statesman, ever quick at repartee, 
 instantly urged in reply: "Buy a new shirt 
 and come on at once,"
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 Whafs in a Name ? 
 
 A Household Word 
 
 " YOUR name is a household word, Senator." 
 This was the remark made in Chicago to Hon. 
 Jonathan P. Dolliver, the new United States 
 Senator from Iowa, during a recent campaign, 
 when a Republican committeeman, anxious to 
 secure him for a speech, assured him that no 
 man was better known or understood in the City 
 by the Lake than the gentleman from Iowa. 
 " Why, sir, no man is better loved by our people 
 or more highly regarded than you," said the 
 committeeman, rising in enthusiasm. 
 
 "If that's the case," replied the Senator, "I 
 shall have to grant your request, and speak 
 again in Chicago." 
 
 "I shall have to advertise you," suggested 
 the committeeman. "Of course, I know your 
 name but, to be sure, I want to ask you. I 
 suppose Joseph T. Dolliver is right?" 
 169
 
 170 TKflit an& twmor of american politics 
 
 " And my name is a household word in 
 Chicago ! ' ' responded the Senator. 
 
 "Yes, sir!" 
 
 " And my Christian name, Joseph ? " 
 
 " My mistake, Senator. I might have known 
 better. It's John A. Dolliver." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed the Senator, " and my 
 name is a household word in Chicago ! " 
 
 "Oh, well," spoke up the committeeman 
 blandly, " it's my mistake again. What is 
 your Christian name, anyhow, Senator?" 
 
 " It's Jonathan, sir, and my name is a 
 household word in Chicago ! " 
 
 "My mistake, entirely," apologized the com- 
 mitteeman. "You know I am forgetful at 
 times I believe you spell your name D-o-l-a- 
 v-o-r?" 
 
 " Hold on ! hold on ! " shouted the Senator. 
 "And my name is a household word in 
 Chicago! Well! well! who'd 'a' thought it! 
 I spell my name D-o-l-l-i-v-e-r." 
 
 "Of course, of course," soothingly chimed 
 the committeeman. " Of course, nobody knew 
 that better than myself. You are ex-Senator, I 
 believe ? ' ' 
 
 It was then that Senator Dolliver wilted, and 
 whispered sadly: "And my name is a house- 
 hold word in Chicago ! "
 
 anD Ibumor ot Bmerican politics m 
 
 A Change of Name 
 
 The Hon. Thomas G. Alvord was one day 
 in the Capitol at Albany, N. Y., taunting a fel- 
 low-member about the " looseness of legislation," 
 as he called it. 
 
 " Why," said he, "" up comes a bill, and the 
 clerk reads the roll, and a member says ' aye/ 
 and half the time does so when he is gabbing 
 with somebody about the good game of cards 
 they both had the night before. I'll wager you 
 a dinner for three that in less than a week, a bill 
 goes through the House in which you, more 
 than any other man in the State, ought to be 
 specially interested, which, in fact, you ought 
 to vote against, yet you will vote for that very 
 bill." 
 
 The member laughed and took the bet. 
 
 One Monday evening, there was a session 
 of the House. As most of the members had 
 come from their districts during the afternoon, 
 after a Sunday rest, they all felt pretty good, 
 and the session was a very mixed proceeding, 
 full of noise and confusion. Bills were intro- 
 duced thick as leaves in Vallambrosa. Alvord 
 introduced one, and, like many others, asked 
 that it then and there be ordered to a third 
 reading. When the order to vote on the vari- 
 ous bills was reached, this bill, whose title, like
 
 172 Wit anD twmor of Smerlcan politics 
 
 titles of many bills under the old Constitution, 
 did not very clearly define its object, came along, 
 and the ayes and noes were rattled off, and it 
 was passed. 
 
 The next day, the member who had made 
 that bet with Alvord had to ask for a reconsid- 
 eration of the vote by which the bill had been 
 passed, and for which he had himself voted it 
 had actually changed his name. There was a 
 merry dinner-party of three at that member's 
 expense. He was a member from this city. 
 His real name was Carolin O'Brien Bryant.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 Stories of Elaine, McKinley, and Ingalls 
 
 Aided His Memory 
 
 SPEAKER HENDERSON tells a good story of 
 one of his initial experiences among public men 
 in Washington. It was before he had been 
 elected to Congress, probably twenty-five years 
 ago. 
 
 Elaine was then Speaker. Naturally he was 
 one of the statesmen that General Henderson 
 much desired to meet, and the opportunity came 
 one morning, just as the Speaker was passing 
 through the lobby on his way to the marble 
 rostrum. The formal greetings were exchanged 
 in a brief moment, and General Henderson was 
 left to see the swinging doors close on the form 
 of the Republican leader. 
 
 Six years later, General Henderson again came 
 to Washington, this time to get Iowa divided 
 into two judicial districts. He put up at Worm- 
 ley's, where Elaine also lived, it being in those 
 days a fashionable and flourishing hostelry. A 
 week or so after his arrival from Iowa, as Gen- 
 173
 
 174 "CUltt and tumor of Bmerfcan Polittce 
 
 eral Henderson was entering the dining-room, 
 he met Elaine, after having passed and repassed 
 him many times. The Maine man grasped him 
 cordially by the hand, called him by name and 
 inquired about Iowa. 
 
 "I had heard of Speaker Elaine's wonderful 
 faculty for remembering names," says General 
 Henderson. "When I had seated myself at 
 the table I beckoned to the head waiter. 
 
 " ' Hasn't Mr. Elaine asked you my name? ' 
 I said to him. < Now think hard and be sure 
 of your answer. ' 
 
 '"Yes, sah,' replied the waiter. 'He done 
 called me ovah las' night an' asked yo' name 
 an' all about yo'. I told him yo' was Mistah 
 Henderson.' " 
 
 An Unpleasant Removal 
 
 Elaine at one time in his career was, as re- 
 gards consular officers, in favor of a limited 
 tenure of office or, at any rate, he believed it 
 to be for the good of the service to change con- 
 suls from office to office occasionally, in order 
 for them to gain a wider and more varied experi- 
 ence. 
 
 He sat in his room at the State Department 
 one day discussing different matters of public
 
 IJCUt anO "fcumor ot American politics ITS 
 
 interest with Mr. Evarts, then his immediate 
 predecessor in office. 
 
 "Now, here," said he, "is a case in point. 
 This man has been consul at Un Hung for 
 twenty years. He went there at the time of the 
 war, and has remained there ever since. It is 
 time he came home and got acquainted with his 
 own country before he grows a queue. If he 
 stays much longer he will have a Chinese bias 
 in his sight. I shall remove him at once." 
 
 "I wouldn't remove him, Mr. Secretary," 
 replied Mr. Evarts, quietly. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " I am afraid it will be an unpleasant thing to 
 do. To be vulgar, I fear it will make a stink." 
 
 "My mind is made up," replied Mr. Elaine. 
 " As soon as I can find a good, live man to take 
 his place I shall remove him." 
 
 " But I think you will have grave difficulty in 
 finding a good, live man who would be willing 
 to take his place." 
 
 "I anticipate no such difficulty. But will 
 you explain to me, Mr. Evarts, why there will 
 be any difficulty, and I confess I fail to under- 
 stand why it will, to use your expression, make 
 a stink?" 
 
 "Because the man has been dead and buried 
 these six months, Mr. Secretary."
 
 176 TKfllt ano twmor of American politics 
 
 McKinley and His Cigar 
 
 Oberlin, Ohio, in the centre of the Connecti- 
 cut Western Reserve, is probably the most puri- 
 tan spot in the entire United States. A large 
 university gives the town its being, and so 
 jealously have the College Fathers guarded the 
 morals of their young people, that not only is 
 the sale of liquor prohibited in the village limits 
 and for miles around, but tobacco, whether for 
 smoking, chewing, or snuffing, is unknown in 
 the stores, while playing cards are even scarcer 
 than the proverbial hen's teeth. 
 
 Once Mr. Monroe, formerly a Congressman 
 from the Oberlin district, was the leading Re- 
 publican of the village, and usually entertained 
 political orators of the party when they visited 
 "the city." During Mr. McKinley's first 
 gubernatorial campaign, Professor Monroe had 
 the pleasure of entertaining the candidate. Af- 
 ter dinner on the evening preceding the address, 
 Mr. McKinley took a cigar from his pocket and 
 casually remarked : 
 
 " You don't mind if I smoke, do you, Pro- 
 fessor? " 
 
 Mr. Monroe was aghast. He didn't wish to 
 appear inhospitable, yet he dreaded the almost 
 certain social ostracism, following the discovery 
 of a smoker on his piazza, even be he the pros.
 
 ano t>umor of Bmerlcan politics 177 
 
 pective Governor of the great State. He com- 
 promised by conducting Mr. McKinley to the 
 second floor, through a long hall to a back bal- 
 cony, where, safely screened from public view, 
 the weed was enjoyed. As the smoke curled 
 upward, instinctively Mr. McKinley looked 
 about him for a cuspidor. 
 
 "There isn't such a thing in town," said 
 Professor Monroe. 
 
 A coal-bucket was finally pressed into service 
 as a compromise. 
 
 Two days after the Oberlin meeting, Mr. Mc- 
 Kinley spoke at East Liverpool, the great pot- 
 tery centre. Chancing to mention the Oberlin 
 experience to his friend, Col. John N. Taylor, 
 the proprietor of one of the big potteries, he said : 
 
 " By the way, Taylor, just for a joke, send a 
 gross of your china spittoons to Professor Mon- 
 roe. Don't tell him where they came from or 
 he'll suspect I had a hand in it." 
 
 Following the suggestion, Colonel Taylor 
 crated up an assortment of really beautiful 
 chinaware, and sent it to Oberlin. A year later, 
 Mr. McKinley was again Mr. Monroe's guest. 
 Forewarned and consequently forearmed with a 
 liberal supply of good Havanas, he again sought 
 the vine-clad balcony. Lighting his cigar, he 
 said, with a twinkle of his eye :
 
 178 TWlit anD fjumor of American politics 
 
 " You haven't a cuspidor in town yet, have 
 you, Monroe? " 
 
 " It's mighty funny," was the response, "but 
 a few days after you were here last year, some 
 one sent me a whole crate of those things. Of 
 course, I hadn't any use for them, and they 
 were such nice china and so prettily painted that 
 my wife used them all for flower-pots. There 
 isn't one about the house not in use." 
 
 The Amazement of Senator Ingalls 
 When the late David Davis of Illinois was 
 President pro tempore of the Senate, holding the 
 balance of power as an independent Democrat 
 and preventing the Republicans from taking 
 possession of the Senate patronage, he was pre- 
 siding one day at a long-drawn session and, be- 
 coming very tired and hungry, was anxious to 
 have the Senate adjourn. Sending for a Sena- 
 tor, he requested him to make a certain point of 
 order that would have brought about such a 
 legislative situation that adjournment would nec- 
 essarily have to foHow. The Senator made his 
 point, which was a very bad one, indeed, and 
 Mr. Davis promptly decided that it was well 
 taken. Just as he did so, Senator Ingalls 
 emerged from the cloak-room. Strutting down
 
 TSUit anO Dumor of Bmertcan politics 179 
 
 the main aisle, he addressed the chair, and in 
 his sternest voice and most dramatic manner 
 shouted: "Mr. President, I am amazed." 
 
 "So am I," said the presiding officer 
 promptly, dropping his head on the desk to con- 
 ceal his laughter, and then quickly entertained a 
 motion for adjournment and retired to the 
 lunch-room. 
 
 No Precedent 
 
 On another occasion, towards the end of a 
 session lasting far into the summer, the usual 
 proposition was before the Senate to give every- 
 body on the employee's pay-roll an extra 
 month's pay. The bill was about to pass, when 
 Senator Ingalls arousing himself, sent to the 
 library for a stack of books, and began such a 
 fierce attack on the measure as quickly to fill 
 the Senate-chamber with an audience to listen 
 to his sarcasm and invective. " There is no 
 precedent for this, Mr. President," was the 
 burden of his speech, and over, and over again 
 at the end of each well directed attack he 
 would repeat : " There is no precedent for this, 
 Mr. President." At the close of his speech, as 
 the Senator was passing from the Senate-cham- 
 ber to his committee-room, Draper, who had
 
 180 TOUt an& -fcumor of amccican fcolttics 
 
 been standing with a group of other employees, 
 anxiously awaiting the result of the onslaught on 
 their salary grab, stepped out from the others 
 and said to Mr. Ingalls : 
 
 "Senator, that was an able speech frorn your 
 standpoint, but why do you oppose it? We 
 thought that you of all the Senators would be 
 our particular friend." 
 
 With a frown, Mr. Ingalls turned and said in 
 his most cutting tones : " Draper, do you mean 
 to tell me that you men who have so little to do 
 and who are so well paid, desire to draw thirteen 
 months' pay for twelve months' service. If you 
 are not satisfied, why don't you resign, and let 
 some one have your place who will be satisfied 
 to draw a legitimate salary?" 
 
 "Why," said Draper, quickly, unconsciously 
 imitating the voice and manner of Mr. Ingalls in 
 his speech : " There is no precedent for this, Mr. 
 Senator," and Ingalls went off laughing so loudly 
 that he could be heard over at the House of 
 Representatives. 
 
 The next day, the bill passed, and the em- 
 ployees got their thirteen months' pay for twelve 
 months of semi-idleness.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 Cranks at the White House 
 
 Always on Hand 
 
 THROUGHOUT the larger part of the year the 
 White House is a magnet for cranks of all sorts 
 and descriptions, male and female. In the 
 main, they are harmless, and their idiosyncrasies 
 are on the humorous side, and the doorkeepers 
 and the Secret Service men about the Executive 
 mansion know how to deal summarily with them. 
 They are shunted out of Washington on the 
 double quick. But while there are more of the 
 apparently dangerous cranks than the public 
 ever hears anything about, they are certainly not 
 so numerous as might be expected, considering 
 the accessibility of the White House to every- 
 body, and the democratic manner in which the 
 crowds flocking to it are handled. 
 
 While Congress is in session, hardly a day 
 passes without half a dozen persons who are ob- 
 viously wrong in their heads attempting to gain 
 the President's ear. Many of these afflicted 
 181
 
 182 T3dit anO tmmor of Smerican politics 
 
 persons are men and women who have repaired 
 to Washington to push imaginary or totally un- 
 founded claims against the Federal Government, 
 and whose ill success in such efforts has addled 
 their poor twisted brains more than ever. In 
 besieging the White House doors, their one idea 
 is to obtain an opportunity to tell the stories of 
 their claims to the Chief Magistrate, and invoke 
 his assistance in the furthering of them in Con- 
 gress. These never reach the President, of 
 course, but most of them are content when they 
 are received with ceremony and consideration, 
 not to say solemnity, by the doorkeepers, even if 
 they are thus gradually " fanned " into the outer 
 air. 
 
 None of the cranks who go to the White House 
 are turned down hard by the attendants. By 
 diplomacy, as experience has proved, they are 
 best got rid of, and most of them are so over- 
 whelmed by the salaaming of the self-contained 
 attaches about the doors, that far from feeling 
 bad over it, when they find themselves gently 
 edged out, they depart with beaming counte- 
 nances and in a highly-flattered state of mind. 
 
 Wanted a Light 
 
 A good-looking, well-dressed man of middle 
 age, whose face, however, wore a steady, flaccid
 
 wait an> tumor of Bmerican politics 183 
 
 grin, and whose eyes had a queer look in them, 
 sauntered up to the White House door one after- 
 noon in the second winter of President McKin- 
 ley's first incumbency. He had an unlighted, 
 half-smoked cigar between his teeth. 
 
 " Howdy," said he pleasantly to the tall door- 
 keeper who swung the door open for him. " Bill 
 in?" 
 
 The doorkeeper replied that the President was 
 out driving. 
 
 " Too bad, too bad," sighed the man with the 
 queer grin and the odd eyes. "Burn the luck 
 that's what I say ! " 
 
 The doorkeeper politely asked him if his busi- 
 ness with the President was so pressing as all 
 that. 
 
 "Yes," replied the visitor mournfully, "it is. 
 As you see," holding out his unlighted, half- 
 smoked cigar, "my weed has gone out. I 
 wanted Bill to give me a light. He promised 
 me in the year 1184, at the battle of Hastings 
 which, as you remember, I won hands down 
 that if ever my cigar went out, all I'd have to do 
 would be to drop in on him and get a light. 
 Too bad, too bad ! " And the man again 
 sighed miserably. 
 
 " Wait a minute," said the doorkeeper. " I 
 hear the rattle of the President's carriage he's
 
 184 -wait anO Ibumor ot Bmerfcan poltttcs 
 
 corning in the back way. I'll see him," and, 
 leaving another attendant to keep an eye on the 
 man with the ineffaceable grin, he slipped into 
 the passage, lighted a cigar, and, after waiting a 
 moment, returned with it in his hand. 
 
 " Mr. McKinley's renewed assurances of his 
 most distinguished consideration," said the door- 
 keeper with great solemnity, holding out the 
 cigar, "and here is his cigar, from which he 
 begs that you will accept a light for your 
 own." 
 
 There was an expression almost of rapture on 
 the man's face as he took the cigar and applied 
 the burning end of it to his own. He returned 
 " The President's cigar," placed both of his 
 hands upon his chest and bowed deeply to the 
 doorkeeper, who returned the kowtow as cere- 
 moniously, and backed out saying : 
 
 " Tell Bill to join me with the army in Flan- 
 ders at twenty minutes past eight o'clock, moon- 
 time." 
 
 Then he passed out, purring vigorously at his 
 cigar, and he never appeared at the White House 
 afterwards, contrary to the expectations of the 
 doorkeepers, who had figured that he'd be drop- 
 ping in every day for a bit of the fire from the 
 President's cigar.
 
 IlJlit ano flnunor of Bmerican politics is 
 
 He Extended Financial Aid 
 Not long before the Battle of Manila Bay, a 
 tall, dignified-looking man with gray hair and 
 clear, steady gray eyes, strolled up the walk 
 leading to the main entrance to the White House, 
 swinging his walking stick jauntily. It was at 
 an afternoon hour when visitors were not received 
 at the Executive Mansion, and one of the door- 
 keepers, who happened to be emerging from the 
 White House, stopped the man, and courte- 
 ously inquired if he was on his way to see the 
 President. 
 
 "Yes," replied the dignified-looking, gray- 
 haired man, confidentially buttonholing the 
 doorkeeper. "I desire particularly to see him 
 in order to furnish him with financial assistance 
 for the prosecution of the war. Perhaps you do 
 not recognize me," he went on, lowering his 
 voice, " but I am the world-famous King Midas 
 my surname's Golddust, but that's imma- 
 terial. This gigantic copper-kettle," pointing 
 to his head, "which, as you no doubt observe, 
 is 220 feet in circumference, is filled to over- 
 flowing with pure gold coins, each of which has 
 a market value of seven quadrillions of dollars. 
 Thus you see that I am far from want. I there- 
 fore wish to assist Mr. McKinley in punishing 
 the Spaniards."
 
 186 "edit anD Dumor of Bmerican politics 
 
 "That's a lot of money you've got," re- 
 marked the doorkeeper, as if stunned at the im- 
 mensity of the man's wealth. " But I'm afraid 
 you'll need it all. Let me tell you something 
 it's not generally known yet but at a Cabinet 
 meeting held this morning, it was decided to 
 raise the price of beef to sixty-four septillions 
 of dollars a pound, and everything else, in- 
 cluding bread, is to go up in price accordingly." 
 
 " You don't say so ! " exclaimed King Midas 
 Golddust, with an alarmed look, and, tightly 
 clutching his walking-stick, he charged out of 
 the gate as swiftly as his long legs could carry 
 him. He never came back, either. 
 
 Anxious about His Height 
 
 A very short, thick-set man, with Herculean 
 shoulders and unsettled eyes, sailed up to the 
 White House door under a full head of steam 
 one morning while General Harrison occupied 
 the Presidential chair. He had so much mo- 
 mentum that two doorkeepers had difficulty in 
 bringing him to a halt when he passed through 
 the door, but they finally gave him the arm- 
 clutch on either side and politely asked him 
 whither he was bound.
 
 TKHit ano Dumor of Hmerfcan politics 187 
 
 "Sh-sh ! " hissed the undersized man, plac- 
 ing his finger to his lips warningly. "I'just 
 met Peter the Hermit down the street, and he 
 told me I was shorter than Ben Harrison. I 
 want to see Ben and measure up with him. 
 How many heads taller than Ben am I, any- 
 how ?" 
 
 " Why," said one of the doorkeepers, " you're 
 so much taller than the President that you 
 wouldn't be able to see him at all unless you 
 lie down flat on the floor. Alongside of Mr. 
 Harrison, you're a redwood-tree of California 
 compared to a dandelion." 
 
 A look of great happiness crept into the short 
 man's face. 
 
 "And so Peter the Hermit told me what 
 wasn't so?" said he, wistfully. 
 
 " Sure thing," said the doorkeeper. 
 
 " And I'm the tallest man that ever lived ? " 
 
 " If Goliath was on earth, you'd make him 
 look as if he'd stopped growing when he was 
 four months old," solemnly replied the door- 
 keeper. 
 
 "O joy! whish I whoosh! whee ! " ex- 
 claimed the undersized man, bubbling over 
 with happiness, and out he went at a jog-trot, 
 nor did he ever call again for the purpose of 
 standing back to back with the Chief Magistrate.
 
 188 mtt ano Dumoc of Bmerfcan politics 
 
 A Garment for the President 
 Another eccentric who called at the White 
 House during the regime of General Harrison, 
 had his arms pinned to his sides the moment 
 after he stepped over the threshold, for he no 
 sooner passed the door than his right hand 
 traveled to his back pocket. It looked like 
 preparation for gun play, and the doorkeepers 
 had him in no time. The man looked greatly 
 surprised over this treatment, and when the 
 doorkeepers felt his back pocket and found that 
 it contained no weapon, they turned him loose 
 and looked him over. 
 
 "What was your idea in going to that 
 pocket?" inquired one of the doorkeepers. 
 
 "My motive," replied the man, aggrievedly, 
 "far from being ulterior, was purely philan- 
 thropic. I am informed, through the medium 
 of the public press, that Mr. Harrison is a 
 cold, cold man. I brought this to him to en- 
 able him to warm himself up." And he again 
 reached into his hip pocket and solemnly 
 brought forth a tiny red-flannel undershirt, 
 about two inches long by an inch wide, which 
 had probably been fashioned for advertising 
 purposes by some underwear manufacturing 
 establishment. 
 
 "Oh, all right, I'll take it to the President,"
 
 TiUit anD Ibumor ot Bmerican politics 189 
 
 said the doorkeeper, accepting the present 
 without a smile, and the man went away con- 
 tented. The doorkeeper mustered up sufficient 
 temerity to hand the tiny undershirt to President 
 Harrison that afternoon, explaining how he had 
 come into possession of it. General Harrison 
 laughed heartily as he held the bit of red 
 flannel up before him. 
 
 "Well," said he, "I've always been aware 
 that my stature is nothing prodigious, but I 
 didn't know that they had reduced me to these 
 dimensions." 
 
 Imagined She Was Cleopatra 
 
 It seemed as if all the female cranks in 
 the country wished to see Mrs. Cleveland in 
 President Cleveland's first term. A queer- 
 looking little old woman turned up at the White 
 House one morning, not long after Mrs. Cleve- 
 land's installation as first lady of the land. Her 
 shoulders were shrouded in an old Paisley shawl, 
 and in the ends of this shawl, she had swad- 
 dled up a little, very old, toothless and half- 
 blind Skye-terrier. 
 
 "Good-morning, serfs," said the little old 
 lady, smiling pleasantly at the doorkeepers, 
 "I'm Cleopatra, you know."
 
 190 mil an& ftumor of Bmerican politics 
 
 The doorkeepers made Cleopatra a reverence, 
 and she undid the loose ends of the shawl swad- 
 dling the aged Skye-terrier, and showed the dog 
 to them. 
 
 "I thought I'd leave poor little Charmion 
 with Mrs. Cleveland, you know," said the little 
 old woman, rather pathetically. " I am going 
 to visit the tombs of my ancestors in the Pyra- 
 amids, shortly, and the Pyramids are so damp 
 lately that I fear Charmion will take cold if I 
 take her along with me. So I thought I would 
 leave her with Mrs. Cleveland while I am gone." 
 And the little old woman gazed affectionately at 
 the wheezy terrier and stroked its head. 
 
 The doorkeepers felt so sorry for the old 
 woman that they were half inclined to take the 
 dog from her and care for it in its age and de- 
 crepitude, but the fear that she might bother by 
 frequently calling to inquire after the animal 
 deterred them. The authorities took charge of 
 the woman, whose mind had become unsettled 
 as a result of many troubles, and she and her 
 dog were properly cared for. 
 
 Dresses For Mrs. Cleveland 
 A middle-aged woman, none too well dressed, 
 but very neat and tidy, called at the White
 
 rait and tumor of Bmerfcan politics 191 
 
 House one afternoon towards the close of Presi- 
 dent Cleveland's first administration. When 
 she got in, she beckoned one of the doorkeepers 
 aside. 
 
 " Now, I wouldn't have you mention it for 
 worlds," she whispered to the doorkeeper, "but 
 how shall I arrange to send Mrs. Cleveland 
 some of my cast-off dresses ? " 
 
 The doorkeeper, who, until the woman spoke, 
 had no idea that her mind was wrong, ducked 
 at this and made some evasive reply. 
 
 " They tell me that the poor thing hasn't a 
 single, solitary stitch fit to be seen," went on 
 the woman. " It's a sin and a shame ! Scan- 
 dalous ! And she so nice-looking. Now I have 
 such millions and millions of dresses that I could 
 spare just as easily as not. And we are just ex- 
 actly the same figure, too, aren't we? " regard- 
 ing her 225 pounds of avoirdupois with great 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " All of my dresses," she went on, before the 
 doorkeeper could think of anything to say to 
 her, "were made by Worth and Felix. Law's 
 me ! How that poor Worth man has torn his 
 hair and ground his teeth in thinking of new 
 effects for my ball gowns ! And, goodness 
 gracious sakes alive, how Felix has despaired 
 of ever doing me justice ! "
 
 192 Mit an& Ibumot of Bmerican politics 
 
 "Well might he, madam," said the door- 
 keeper, for lack of anything better to say. 
 
 " So," went on the woman graciously, 
 " when I heard that Mrs. Cleveland was actu- 
 ally without anything to wear, I decided to as- 
 certain from her if she would feel bad or 
 humiliated you understand if I should very 
 delicately, you know presume to send her 
 about three dray loads of my own dresses that I 
 shall probably not wear any more, although 
 they are almost as good as new, every one of 
 them." 
 
 " Madam," said the doorkeeper, " she would 
 be everlastingly grateful to you for your con- 
 sideration. Send them along, by all means." 
 
 " Oh, thanks, so much ! " exclaimed this 
 liberal-souled woman, smiling radiantly, and she 
 went her way. The three dray loads of Felix 
 and Worth dresses have yet to be drawn up at 
 the goods-receiving back door of the White 
 House, nor did the generous-minded woman 
 who had been the despair of the two great cos- 
 tume designers, ever return to explain the dray- 
 men's tardiness.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 The Game of Politics in Kansas 
 
 A State of Surprises 
 
 ^KANSAS is what might be termed an 'un- 
 expected State,' " says Opie Read. " It is a 
 Commonwealth of surprises. Sometimes for a 
 period of several years, crops fail, until a failure 
 is expected ; and then comes a harvest that as- 
 tonishes the world. A justice of the peace told 
 me that jack-rabbits run faster in Kansas than 
 in Nebraska. 'That may be,' replied a Ne- 
 braska man who stood near, ' but they don't 
 run any oftener.' " 
 
 New York is a State of types. Kansas is a 
 State of individuals. It is a storm-centre of 
 political impulse. In Illinois the successful pol- 
 itician is a staid and plodding worker, a clerk 
 for his constituents. In Kansas, a man to hold 
 the public must have a plot and a car-load of 
 scenery. Out there in that broad land of the 
 sunflower and the gigantic "jimson," dulness, 
 though it may be hard-working, is looked upon 
 193
 
 194 TWlit anD tbumor of american politics 
 
 with a soured mingling of pity, sarcasm, and 
 contempt. When Ingalls put aside his politics 
 for a few moments and wrote an essay on grass, 
 the State arose and clapped its hands in ap- 
 plause, and an old farmer remarked to the keen 
 satirist, a scythe-blade flashing in the sun : 
 "John, I allus thought there was somethin' to 
 you, an' dinged if you hain't proved it." 
 
 He Studied Expression 
 
 One of the best speeches of the entire cam- 
 paign, either in Kansas or in any other State, 
 was made by Henry Allen, a country news- 
 paper man, a man whose philosophical eye looks 
 back with fondness and humor upon his early 
 struggle for an education. He found an old 
 razor, sharpened it on his boot and shaved his 
 way through college. " Yes, sir," he said, 
 and there was modesty in the tone of his 
 voice ; "I have made my mark and it is there 
 yet, on the face of a kindly old gentleman who 
 held down the chair of ancient and harmless 
 languages. L shaved him once." Some one 
 asked him how he acquired such aptness as a 
 talker and he answered : 
 
 "I had the opportunity to study expression 
 as I lathered it." He took up the trust ques-
 
 anD Dumor of American politics 195 
 
 tion and gave it a pleasing color ; he made one 
 almost wish that he might own the controlling 
 interest in some great aggregation of capital. 
 Once in his enthusiasm, he made a mistake in 
 his figures. " It was not so long ago," he said, 
 speaking to a large audience, " that we trembled, 
 upon taking up the newspaper in the morning, in 
 fear that the gold reserve had been drawn upon 
 during the night. But now what is the condi- 
 tion of our great storehouse in gold ? In the 
 national treasury, we have in gold two hundred 
 and eighty-seven dollars." He meant millions. 
 Just at that moment a red-haired boy, standing 
 between his father's knees, began to cry. 
 "What's the matter with him?" a neighbor 
 asked. " He's cryin' because there is so little 
 gold in the Treasury," the boy's father re- 
 plied. 
 
 Just then, some one turned to Allen and 
 said: "Well, Henry, you know that the elec- 
 tion here is always a sort of a family affair, and 
 no matter how hard we fight, we are all broth- 
 ers afterwards. So, when this thing is over, and 
 you get to be a good Populist, come over to my 
 house and see me." 
 
 "All right," Allen replied. "Whenever I 
 become a Populist I won't care a darn where I 
 go."
 
 196 TlCiit anO Dumor of Bmerican politics 
 
 Jerry Simpson and the Kentuckian 
 
 I met Jerry Simpson, who has been called 
 " sockless." But he is not soulless; he has as 
 kindly an eye as ever moistened at the sight of 
 distress. His voice is the echo of a warm 
 heart. He accepted office, but so did Jefferson ; 
 he looked for it. I don't remember whether 
 Jefferson did or not. They accuse him of color- 
 ing his talk to suit the occasion, and I am told 
 that Demosthenes was not above that sort of 
 thing. I heard a conversation between Simp- 
 son and an old Kentuckian who had become 
 acclimated to the sharp political winds of 
 Kansas. 
 
 "That's all well enough," said Simpson, 
 " but America ought not to bite off more than 
 she can chaw." 
 
 " Of course not," replied the Kentuckian, 
 " but I don't believe America will bite off more 
 than she can chaw. I don't reckon any nation's 
 got a better set of teeth." 
 
 "But," Simpson persisted, "I don't think 
 we can take in those islands under the Consti- 
 tution." 
 
 " That mout be," rejoined the Kentuckian, 
 " but we can fetch 'em in under the flag, and 
 I guess the Constitution will become ricon- 
 ciled." ,
 
 anD Ijumot of Hmerican politics 197 
 
 Embraced the Opportunity 
 Every man in Kansas is a politician, and 
 what is more, nearly every man can make a 
 speech. One night, an oldish man who had 
 never attempted to address an audience was 
 urged to get up and express himself. He hung 
 back with the red embarrassment of the Friday- 
 afternoon-boy, when visitors have unexpectedly 
 entered the schoolroom. But finally he yielded, 
 and at first he fumbled about for words. " He 
 is sorting potatoes," some one whispered. Sud- 
 denly he forgot to fumble, and boldly launched 
 a majestic tirade against the evils of the day. 
 His eyes blazed. He popped circling serpents 
 of fire from the ends of his fingers. The audi- 
 ence was entranced. And when the eye-blaze 
 was turned low and the serpents were all popped 
 off, he stood there a surprise unto himself. But 
 he did not permit this unexpected crop to go to 
 waste. Instantly he said: "Now that I think 
 of it, I hereby announce myself as a candidate 
 for Congress." 
 
 How to Meet Their Wants 
 
 To the Kansas people, a political contest 
 comes as a sort of joy. It is the Christmas of 
 the emotions. An Eastern statesman with more
 
 198 "wait anO tumor ot Smerfcan politics 
 
 dignity than perception, before a Kansas audi- 
 ence, thus began his remarks : " Fellow-citizens, 
 I think " 
 
 " We don't care what you think. Tell us 
 something new," a voice shouted. The states- 
 man's speech was ruined. But the man who 
 followed was a Kansan. He had come out re- 
 cently for expansion. 
 
 " Sorry to see you on that side of the fence," 
 some one cried out. 
 
 " Sorry to see you at all," the speaker re- 
 plied, and was permitted to go on without fur- 
 ther interruption. 
 
 They are riotous lovers of fun, but under the 
 soft spell of a pathetic story each man looks as 
 if he had a diamond in his eye. Ingalls often 
 excited their admiration but he never touched 
 their hearts. From the crumbling tower of his 
 cynicism, he threw stars at them and brought 
 down a full moon when he fell, and in mute ad- 
 miration, but with tearless eyes, they gazed 
 upon the glittering ruin. 
 
 "And it was to these people," said a promi- 
 nent politician, " that I was called upon to make 
 speeches. I felt like a ' tenderfoot ' with a toy 
 pistol. I had not the courage to draw my 
 twenty-two where there were so many forty- 
 fives. I reminded myself of a story that I
 
 TWUt ano l>umor of Bmcrican politics 199 
 
 heard down in Mississippi. You may have 
 heard it. A train stopped for dinner in the 
 swamps. A negro stood on a veranda ringing 
 a bell. A dog began to howl. The negro 
 looked at the dog and said : ' What are you 
 cryin' erbout ? You don't have to eat here.' 
 
 " I didn't have to speak there ; and I stood 
 in cowardly fright when the chairman whispered 
 to me: 'Tell them some stories.' And after 
 that, my way was clear. I hope to meet that 
 chairman in a land that is better than this, 
 where there are no politics but story, the sub- 
 lime story of the sinner-man's redemption. The 
 story does not pull down the philosopher but 
 places the common man beside him. Make a 
 man laugh and he is half convinced. Men who 
 have no humor sneer ' with conscious medioc- 
 rity. ' Tom Corwin knew this when he said : 
 'My son, be solemn be as solemn as an ass.' 
 He knew that dull solemnity is often mistaken 
 'for statesmanship. Humor in politics is not 
 frivolity. It is a mellow light thrown upon 
 truth. And that is the way they look at it in 
 Kansas. The Kansas man reads. The best 
 publications lie upon the farmer's centre-table. 
 His understanding is clear. The only thing he 
 has to fight is a rebellious nerve. He has all 
 the statistics of a campaign issue, and he is
 
 200 TKW an& Dumor ot Hmerican politics 
 
 bored when a speaker makes a 'splurge' of 
 figures. If so minded, he can put you to sleep 
 with extracts from speeches on the tariff. He 
 knows all about the recent treaties into which 
 his country has entered. Allen said : ' I don't 
 know whether this Treaty of Paris is a good 
 thing or not. I have read it over twice and it 
 struck me as being a pretty fair article of treaty. 
 I may be wrong. I haven't had the time to 
 study it. But there is an old man in my town 
 who says that it is not a good thing. He ought 
 to know. He has had the leisure to commit it 
 to memory. His wife takes in washing.' ' 
 
 Convinced By Song 
 
 In most States the farmers drive to town in 
 wagons. In Kansas, they come in buggies. 
 They know the meaning of hard luck and they 
 know how to stand it. They are adventurous 
 and religious. They believe in self and the 
 Almighty. Nothing would please them more 
 than to go to war. They love peace, if it be 
 honorable, but the glory of the soldier appeals 
 to them. The women read politics. And 
 they tell me that platforms are easy to under- 
 stand. That may be. During the campaign, 
 a jubilee corps of fifteen or twenty girls went
 
 an& Dumor of Hmerican politics 201 
 
 about singing gold, tariff, and expansion. It 
 was a sort of political Salvation Army. A 
 man told me that they had sung him out of his 
 former convictions. "Yes, sir," said he, "I 
 can stand hammering and all that sort of thing, 
 but whenever they introduce the mourners' 
 bench methods, I throw up my hands." 
 
 High Praise 
 
 It is much easier to tell stories on the political 
 stump than on the lecture platform. I mean that 
 it is easier to get the audiences. If a lecturer 
 could gather such crowds, it wouldn't make 
 any difference to him who is elected. I have 
 stood before some of the smallest audiences 
 in this country and I know what I am talking 
 about. At times I have been forced to abandon 
 the set form of "Ladies and Gentlemen," and 
 to say, " Good -evening, sir." A political audi- 
 ence is like a packed jury it is already con- 
 vinced ; and the successful speaker is the one 
 who " loses " the smallest number of votes. At 
 a little town, the circuit Judge came to me 
 after the meeting and said : 
 
 "Well, sir, I don't want to flatter you, but I 
 must compliment you. I don't believe you are 
 doing any particular harm." I laughed, and
 
 202 TlWit ant> ttwmor of Bmerican politico 
 
 he mistook my merriment for incredulity. 
 " Oh, it is a fact. I have heard several say 
 so." Afterwards I learned that this was high 
 praise. 
 
 Tearing Off the Mask 
 
 One of the best stories Gen. Archie Williams 
 ever drew from his repertory is told on himself. 
 Many years ago, when he was Attorney-General 
 of Kansas, Mr. Williams had occasion to make 
 a trip to the East. He had no railroad passes 
 east of the Mississippi River, so he borrowed an 
 annual over an Illinois road from his old friend, 
 Jake Smith. It happened during the first 
 stretch through Illinois that the conductor of 
 the train on which the Kansas man rode was a 
 former schoolmate of his. The conductor rec- 
 ognized Williams, but Williams didn't recog- 
 nize the conductor, and upon this fact, the fun 
 of the story hangs. 
 
 " Mr. Smith," said the conductor, after he 
 had worked his train and returned to have 
 a chat with his passenger from Kansas, " I see 
 you are from Topeka; did you ever know a 
 man out there by the name of Archie Wil- 
 liams?" 
 
 " Yes, I know him very well," responded the
 
 Ulit and Dumor ot Bmerican politics 203 
 
 pseudo Smith, after struggling hard to steady 
 his nerve, and regain his composure. " Yes, 
 Williams is considerable of a fellow out there. 
 He's Attorney-General of the State." 
 
 " Who, Williams ? Attorney-General ? " 
 ejaculated the conductor. " What kind of 
 people are they out there in Kansas to elect a 
 chucklehead like that for Attorney-General? 
 Why, sir, I used to know Williams back here in 
 Illinois ; and of all the dundle-pated, step-on- 
 himself-and-fall-all-over fellows you ever saw, 
 Williams was the worst. That man Attorney- 
 General ? Why, if you will believe me, Mr. 
 Smith, he didn't know enough to wad a shot- 
 gun." 
 
 " Stop it ! Stop it ! " yelled Williams, spring- 
 ing to his feet. " There is your blankety-blank 
 Smith pass ; take it up and collect fare if you 
 want to ; but you can't abuse me any longer ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 "Oto" 
 
 A Friend of the Cow 
 
 FROM the Congressional Record of February 
 15, 1902, we cull the following delicious bit of 
 humor, a speech by Representative T. J. 
 Selby, of Illinois, on the repeal of the oleomar- 
 garine tax. Mr. Selby was then what is known 
 as a " new man " in Congress. 
 
 1 ' I desire to say a few words on this greasy 
 subject. I am a friend to the cow. I am a 
 friend to the woman that milks the cow. I am 
 a friend to the man that stands by and watches 
 his wife while she milks the cow, for is she not 
 his helpmeet ? I love to see the woman churn 
 the foaming cream until the butter cometh. I 
 love the nice fresh buttermilk, and love to see 
 the busy housewife wallop the butter about 
 in her hands into shapely rolls. I love to see 
 the butter come, and then I love to make the 
 butter fly. 
 
 "Memory goes back to the happy times 
 204
 
 TKJUt and twmor of Bmerican politics 205 
 
 when the cows came home, and to the less 
 happy times when I had to make them come 
 home. Any man who has been raised with 
 a cow will never lose his friendship for her, nor 
 go back upon her, nor upon her back, when ad- 
 versity strikes her business. 
 
 "The gentleman from Virginia (Mr. Lamb) 
 paid the Virginia cow a beautiful and eloquent 
 tribute, but let me say to him that the Virginia 
 cow cannot be compared with the big fat cows 
 of the Mississippi Valley, and beyond. I am 
 well aware that Virginia is entitled to the proud 
 distinction of having been the ' mother of 
 Presidents,' but she was not the mother of the 
 cow. The Mississippi Valley cow is a marvel 
 of wonder and the pride of every home. She 
 never goes dry. She is kind and gentle, and 
 has such maternal affection that she often licks 
 the milker instead of her calf. 
 
 " If I fail to vote for this bill, I shall feel that 
 I cannot go home and ever again look an 
 honest cow in the face. The cows in my 
 country are Democratic cows. They give 
 Democratic milk, which accounts for the ever- 
 lasting big Democratic majorities in my district. 
 They are not yet aware, sir, that there is such a 
 thing as oleo in any part of their anatomy. 
 Why, sir, even our hogs have not learned that
 
 206 Wit anD tbumor of Bmcncan politics 
 
 their greasy in'ards contribute to the greedy 
 work of building up a great anti-cow butter 
 monopoly. If the peaceful hog knew it, he 
 would grunt in shame. 
 
 "The cow in my country lives in Arcadian 
 simplicity. She dwelleth amid green pastures 
 and looketh dubiously at the Republican politi- 
 cian as he passeth by on his mission to hoodoo 
 the honest voter. 
 
 " Frolicsome calves gallop about with tails 
 erect, rejoicing in the fulness of democratic 
 freedom that is theirs. The cow is contented 
 and happy, out in my district, in her benevolent 
 work of giving milk for young Democrats. 
 Little does this patient cow know that the hon- 
 est product of her toil is being counterfeited so 
 successfully by cunning men that the butter- 
 eater knoweth not any more what he eateth 
 when he buttereth his bread. 
 
 " This ' wholesome food product/ called 
 oleomargarine, you say is such a fine counterfeit 
 of genuine butter, such a delicious substitute, 
 that the honest son of toil cannot tell whether 
 he is eating pure butter or this fraudulent com- 
 pound of hog lard, steer fat, and cottonseed 
 grease. To such perfection has swindling come 
 at last under Republican rule and misrule. 
 Why should you not be as earnestly and elo-
 
 "Wait anfc -fcumor ot Smerfcan politics 207 
 
 quently advocating an honest thing for the 
 honest workingman, as you are earnestly and 
 eloquently advocating this substitute, this com- 
 pound of mysterious fats, for him ? I tell you, 
 the honest son of toil is entitled to have the 
 honest product of honest labor, the best and not 
 the poorest, the genuine and not the counterfeit. 
 We should take off our hats to these honest sons 
 of toil, for we are here by their votes, by their 
 kind permission. They expect us to prevent 
 fraud, not to protect it. They expect us to 
 give an honest vote for an honest measure. 
 This bill is an honest measure to protect an 
 honest industry. 
 
 " Gentlemen, let us stand by the honest cow, 
 and verily we shall have an abundance of genu- 
 ine butter for our bread, and milk for our babies 
 and the earth and the fulness thereof shall be 
 ours."
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 From the South 
 
 What They Thought of Hoke Smith 
 
 A MAN from Georgia, one of the delegates to 
 the Industrial Convention, was talking about 
 Hoke Smith. 
 
 "Down in our State," said the delegate, 
 " the name of Hoke Smith is held in venera- 
 tion. Apropos of this, they tell a story about a 
 couple of ' crackers ' who were sitting on a 
 fence talking politics. It was when Hoke Smith 
 was serving as Secretary of the Interior in 
 Cleveland's cabinet. 
 
 " ' Hoke Smith's a great man, suh,' said one 
 cracker. 
 
 " ' Yaas, suh, he's a great man, but he ain't 
 es great a man as Grover Cleveland,' said the 
 other. 
 
 " ' Yaas, suh, Hoke Smith's a greatah man 
 than Grover Cleveland.' 
 
 " ' Wall, ah reckon he ain't es great a man es 
 Gen'l Robe't E. Lee.' 
 
 208
 
 TKHit anD ljumot of Hmerican politics 209 
 
 " ' Yaas, suh, Hoke Smith's a greatah man 
 than Robe't E. Lee.' 
 
 " < Ah reckon he ain't es great a man es Jeff' - 
 son Davis.' 
 
 " ' Yes, suh, Hoke Smith's a greatah man 
 than Jeff 'son Davis.' 
 
 "A long pause followed and each chewed 
 meditatively. 
 
 "'Hoke Smith ain't es great as God,' re- 
 marked the doubting cracker. 
 
 "This argument seemed a clincher, but the 
 other cracker proved equal to it. He spat 
 copiously and then drawled out : 
 
 " ' Mebbe not mebbe not. Hoke Smith's a 
 young man yit.' ' 
 
 His Wish Gratified 
 
 Congressman Jones of Virginia tells this story 
 of his father: Directly after the war Jones, 
 senior, was sent to the State Senate. An old 
 slave who had belonged to him was also elected 
 to the Senate. The two drew adjoining seats. 
 Senator Jones was very courteous, and in ad- 
 dressing his former slave always called him 
 Senator. The old negro stood it for some time, 
 and finally said : " Massa William, I don't like 
 dis Senator business. Kain't I come down to
 
 210 Trait anO -Burner of Bmertcan politics 
 
 yo' house and visit that cook of yourn? I 
 suhtinly would like permission to visit yo' 
 kitchen." The request was granted, and while 
 Senator Jones was in his library, the other Sena- 
 tor was down in the kitchen visiting the cook. 
 
 An Object in View 
 
 In the crowd at Timothy Woodruff's head- 
 quarters at the Republican National Convention 
 of 1900, were two colored gentlemen from a 
 Southern state. They got inside the door and 
 announced : " We're delegates, boss ; we think 
 powerful well of Woodruff down our way." 
 
 The Honorable Timothy was not around at 
 the time, but the man in charge told them he 
 was very glad to hear that, and trusted they 
 would stick to Tim. 
 
 " Yes, we think powerful well of Mr. Wood- 
 ruff, ' ' said one of the delegates. 
 
 " Yes, yes, we are glad to hear that," said 
 the man in charge, and he turned to greet some- 
 body else. The two stood there. 
 
 "Yes," said the spokesman, again, when he 
 thought he reached the ear of the Woodruff 
 man, "we think powerful well of Mr. Woodruff 
 down our way." 
 
 The Woodruff man kept talking to other peo- 
 ple. The delegates stood still. Finally the
 
 mtt an> ibumor of Bmertcan politics 211 
 
 spokesman of the pair coughed. The Wood- 
 ruff man looked around. 
 
 "Fact is," said the spokesman when he saw 
 the Woodruff man's eye on him again, " we 
 have a small Baptist church down in our town, 
 and we've got a mortgage on it, and it is power- 
 ful hard to raise money these days, powerful 
 hard. You see, besides being up here as dele- 
 gates, we want to raise $500 to help out that 
 church." 
 
 The Woodruff man's back was turned by this 
 time, and the spokesman, after waiting a 
 moment, said : 
 
 " Yes, yes, we did think powerful well of Mr. 
 Woodruff down our way," and there was a heap 
 of emphasis on the "did." Then they went 
 out. 
 
 Voted the Wrong Ticket 
 One of the smoothest political tricks ever 
 played, was that pulled off in Talbot County, on 
 the eastern shore of Maryland, some years ago, 
 when about two hundred negroes voted the 
 wrong ticket without knowing it, before our side 
 found out that anything was going wrong. The 
 county was very close that year, and the Re- 
 publicans had to count upon the votes of the 
 negroes to win. Few of these citizens could
 
 212 TKHit ant> f)umot ot amcrican politics 
 
 read, but they had been instructed to put their 
 cross mark on the Australian ballot in front of 
 Massa Lincoln's nose. They had shown that 
 they could at least do this much, and the Re- 
 publicans considered everything well in hand. 
 
 But the Democrats were in control of the 
 County, and the " Jackson and Liberty " emblem 
 had first place on the ballot, the Democrats also 
 having charge of all the election printing. 
 When the official sample ballots were published, 
 not one Republican in the county, for some 
 strange reason, noticed that Lincoln's head in 
 the Republican emblem was turned to the left, 
 instead of to the right, as had always been the 
 custom. The result was, naturally, that all the 
 illiterate negroes who voted " in front of Lin- 
 coln's nose " marked their crosses to the right of 
 "Jackson and Liberty," thereby voting the 
 straight Democratic ticket. About n A. M., 
 some backwoods Republicans noticed that Lin- 
 coln's face was turned the wrong way, and re- 
 ported to the managers. Then there were doings. 
 
 It was thought at first by the Republicans 
 that the whole Democratic party had got up 
 the scheme, but it developed, that it had all 
 been arranged by one man, who had made a 
 change in the woodcuts which were sent to the 
 official printer.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 Rewards of Politics 
 
 The Judge's Pull 
 
 " IN those halcyon days when ' Chet ' Arthur 
 ran things Republican, in New York, I was a 
 district leader," said the ex-Judge, removing 
 his glasses to polish them so that he would the 
 more accurately observe the effect of his anec- 
 dote. " That was when Arthur was Collector 
 of the Port, before he became President, and we 
 were compelled to treat him with a greater 
 deference than before. It was the days before 
 Civil Service Reform had arisen to vex us with 
 its restrictions in the proper dispensation of 
 patronage in building up a party to advance 
 proper and patriotic principles." 
 
 The ex-Judge mounted his glasses and beamed 
 upon us as he thought of those halcyon days of 
 political activity and leadership. 
 
 "Well," he went on, "in my district there 
 
 was an active, industrious fellow named Mc- 
 
 Mahon Marty, one of those fellows to whom 
 
 you only need to say that such and such a 
 
 213
 
 214 TWlit and tumor of Bmerican politics 
 
 thing must be done, and you could lie back and 
 consider it done; but it would be just as well 
 not to inquire how rest content in an accom- 
 plished fact. Marty had one detect, however, 
 which deprived him of ripe excellence and com- 
 fort. His demand for places for his family went 
 ahead of anything I ever knew. It seemed to 
 me that he spent one day manufacturing a rela- 
 tive, that he might hunt me up the next day to 
 demand a place for him. But then he wasn't 
 so different from the rest of the workers only a 
 little more persistent and urgent. Well, one 
 day he started in to have a brother-in-law of 
 his put into the Custom-House. I had been 
 pretty busy securing such kind of places for my 
 district, and didn't feel very anxious to go to 
 Arthur, and told Marty so. That didn't make 
 any difference to Marty. He was at my house 
 before breakfast, and when I started for bed. If 
 I opened my office door I found Marty in the 
 corridor patiently waiting to prefer that request 
 for his brother-in-law. This went on so long 
 that in sheer desperation I went to Arthur. 
 
 "'Well, Judge,' said the Collector, 'your 
 district has its quota of appointments now 
 more than its quota. 1 
 
 "'I know, Collector,' I exclaimed, 'but I 
 must have this one. If this thing goes on an-
 
 and tmmor of Bmertcan politics 215 
 
 other week, I shall be a dead man. I can't live 
 through it, and my man won't take nay. Now 
 I am quite sure that you, as the head of the or- 
 ganization, don't want to lose an efficient district 
 leader. ' 
 
 "Arthur smiled, but the smile was quickly 
 succeeded by a frown. At length he took from 
 his desk a list of names and, after looking it 
 over, handed it to me saying : 
 
 " ' This is a list of the appointments for your 
 district. Look it over, select a name you care 
 least for, strike it off and I'll appoint your man. 
 It's the best I can do.' 
 
 "I took the list and presently struck the 
 name of a man of whom I had no knowledge. 
 I didn't even recognize it as belonging to any- 
 body I had ever heard of, and I struck it off. 
 Marty's brother-in-law accordingly was ap- 
 pointed. 
 
 "A week later I met Marty. He was cold 
 and sullen frowning, indeed. 
 
 " ' What's the matter, Marty? ' I asked. ' I 
 got your brother-in-law appointed, didn't I?' 
 
 "'You did, sor,' he replied, 'an' by the 
 same token you bounced my other brother-in- 
 law to do it. An' all it's done has been to quiet 
 one sister an' put another about me ears.' 
 
 " I flung up my hands. I couldn't explain."
 
 216 TCdit anO Dumor of Bmerican politics 
 
 The Disappointed Office-Seeker 
 
 Back in '56 when Buchanan was running for 
 the Presidency, he had an intimate friend in a 
 Western State who was also a friend of mine. 
 This man worked early and late for Buchanan's 
 cjuse, and really did as much as any one else to 
 put his State in the Buchanan column on elec- 
 tion day. 
 
 My friend, whom we will call Smith, had a 
 wife who was an invalid. He thought that he 
 was entitled to some recognition as he was 
 for the work he had done, and he applied for a 
 consulate on the coast of the Mediterranean, be- 
 lieving that the sojourn there would improve his 
 wife's health. 
 
 Months went by and he heard nothing of his 
 application, except that it had been received by 
 the President. Then came the blow. He was 
 notified that he had been made Consul at some 
 little town in Iceland ! Smith sat down and 
 wrote a letter, which I saw before it left, so I 
 can vouch for it. The letter read : 
 
 " To One James Buchanan, President of these 
 United States : 
 
 " Since applying to you some months ago for 
 a consulate on the balmy shores of the Mediter- 
 ranean, my wife, who was ill, has gone to 
 heaven, and you can go to ."