ayed) was so striking that children taken to the Capitol
for the first time would shout with glee when he was pointed out to
them. Rural visitors went home satisfied that the country was safe--they
had seen Uncle Sam on hand, sober, and 'tending to business!' A friend
once said to him, "Manysnifters, you look so much like Uncle Sam that
whenever I see you on a jag I feel like this great nation of ours is
going to hell!"

Georgia is the Colonel's native State, and he is proud of it, but I
imagine that some recent legislation down there has greatly upset him.
He looked rather downcast when I last saw him, and refused nourishment
either in solid or liquid form. And then he said, eyeing me solemnly,
"'Times is right porely down our way, boss. Things don't lap. De
chinquapin crap done gin out 'fore de simmons is ripe!' Now, boy, don't
ask me how things are going in my State. You know as much about it as I
do. Let the old man alone, won't you?" and so I left him.

"Well, Colonel, how do you feel now?" asked Senator Bull solicitously.

"Oh, I'm all right," replied the Colonel, suspicion lurking in his
tones. "I know what you think, Senator, but I am not. No, siree! I
_have_ had three or four small ones, but I am not 'lit' by a jugful! The
idea! Drunk on four high-balls! Why, they just clear my brain--drive the
fog out. Maybe it's the Scotch, maybe the soda. A fine combination, the
high-ball. I am as stupid as an owl when I am cold sober, but when I
drink, I soar! I feel like a lark with nothing between myself and the
sun except a little fresh air and exercise. Oh, there's nothing the
matter with me; any one can see that.

"It's funny how small this world is, and how time flies. I supposed you
all noticed the tall, bald-headed man with the spectacles who ran up and
hugged me to-day. Ain't he the ugly one? His ma certainly did hand his
pa a lemon when he was born. Why, if I had been a long-lost brother he
could not have been gladder to see me. Well, I was glad to see him, too,
but the sight of him called up memories at once humiliating and
smile-provoking. Senator, may I trouble you to depress the business end
of that syphon? Thank you. Now, that fellow's name is Seymour--that's
why he wears specs, I suppose--and he rattles around in the chair of
Applied Science at Jay College, this State. Not much of an institution,
and still less of a job, I imagine, and poor Seymour's salary quite in
keeping. If there ever was any one dese