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Show A farmer encountered State Chairman Fussy James Anderson a few days ago at Mr. Cutler's headquarters in the office of Internal Revenue Collector Col-lector Callister, who, according to his own admission, admis-sion, is out of politics. The Fussy immediately unfurled a beautiful oration regarding the preeminent pre-eminent qualifications of the North Main- street tailor, and delivered himself of many l'emarkable reasons why Governor Wells sh6uld not be nominated. nomi-nated. The farmer, after listening in unmixed awe to the voicy opinions of the state chairman, finahy Inquired if it wasn't true that Governor Wells was becoming an aristocrat. "It is," promptly answered Fussy James. "He's been an aristocrat since he was born." "And are you not an aristocrat?" ventured the man from the rural district. The Fussy hid away a sob of pained indignation indigna-tion and recovered his voice wjth visible emotion. "Never, never!" replied the Fussy. How could you have seeped up such an impression? Every one knows me. I am one of the common people." "I just wanted to know," said the farmer suavely. "I intend to vote for Governor Wells." And followed by the glare of Jimmie's diminutive diminu-tive gray ORtics, and to the tune of the jingling coins of the non-partisan, revenue office, the farmer slowly ambled out of the joint building. |