ever
show up here. That girl business--the strawberry blonde, you
know--seems all lost sight of, and there ain't a cloud in the sky."

A clerk entered and informed Alvord that a man named Amidon wanted to
speak to him at the telephone.

"Another debating society wants irrigating, I s'pose," said he.
"Hello! This is headquarters. . . Yes, it's Alvord speaking to
you. . . . Oh, is it you, Brass? They said it was a man named Amidon.
Wire's crossed, I s'pose. Worst telephone service I ever saw. All
right, go ahead."

Here followed a long pause broken occasionally by "yes," and "I know,"
and "no," from Alvord. At last, in tones of amazement, he broke forth
in a storm of protest.

"What! Publish a platform?" he shouted. "Are you crazy? No, I most
emphatically don't think so. Why--now listen a moment, 'Gene,--I've
got the best still hunt framed up you ever saw. We're winning in a
walk. . . . Well, if you want to make your position clear, I know I
can trust you to make your manifesto the right thing. But mind, I
advise against it! . . . Yes, sure, as many things as you want to talk
about, old man. . . . Yes, I've heard about the idea; but never saw it
indorsed by any practical people. . . . Yes. . . . No. No! . . .
_No!_ . . . I tell you NO! . . . Why, you know we've spent sums that
we couldn't possibly publish. What have you been drinking, 'Gene?
Here, damn you, this is all a josh! Come down here and I'll buy. . . .
What's that? You really want to publish a schedule of your election
expenses? Well, I'll keep the schedule, and you can print 'em if you
want to. Come up to headquarters, and I'll show 'em to you. Good-by!"

Alvord hung up the receiver, and went back to his inner office.

"By George, Slater," said he, "Brassfield is absolutely the most
deceptive josher I ever saw. He had me going just now by pretending
that he was about to publish a platform of principles, and a statement
of campaign disbursements. So blooming solemn it gave me the shivers
for a minute. List of disbursements: think of it, Slater! And a
platform, in our kind of politics!"

XX

THE STRAWBERRY BLONDE

The year will all be summer weather
When speech and action go together;
When Aucassin's sage words are met
In all his deeds with Nicolette;
And though fair Daphne's words be free,
Look not too soon her swain to be:
The year will all be summer weather,
When speech and action go together