I keep a scrap-book of jokes!"
The abject candidate had no word to offer in reply. He was white and
trembling, for after Presson's early declaration it had seemed that the
whole shameful story was to be thundered in the ears of those two
thousand men sitting yonder.
"You can suit yourself as to your further movements, Spinney," said the
General, noting the man's distress.
"There's a rear exit from this hall," remarked the Duke, significantly.
Spinney went out, hanging his head.
"Well, there's at least one cur eliminated from the politics of this
State," blurted Harlan, gratefully.
"Eliminated!" sneered his grandfather. "The first man you'll meet in the
legislative lobby next winter, sugar on his speech and alum on his
finger, so that he can get a good firm grip of your buttonhole, will be
Arba Spinney, drawing his salary as the paid agent of half-a-dozen
schemers. He may seem a little wilted just now, but he's a hardy
perennial--you needn't worry about _him_."
"I think you're the man to take these documents to the Committee on
Resolutions, Thelismer," stated the General, drawing out the planks he
had submitted the evening before.
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