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Show THE STROLLER I I I XI F one can bo- lieve half he HI I hears, Tommy ill Thomas is run- ning Old Job o HBIBi.. ",, 'i , jhil biblical fame an awful race for the distinction of being the most troubled man in all the world. Tommy, you know, is a Democrat, and a deserving de-serving one at that. Also, he is "Collector "Col-lector of Customs," which, of course, doesn't have anything to do with politics. pol-itics. In the old days when Jake Green-wald Green-wald held the job, he was called the "Collector of the Port." No one was ever able to locate the port, so the name was changed. Jake's salary was $2,000 per annum and the story goes that one year the receipts of the office amounted to $G0.00. That was easily accounted for when it was found that someone had mailed a remittance to the office by mistake. Of course, that was a long time ago. Since then, the salary may have been decreased or the revenues of the office of-fice may have increased somewhat, but neither is probable. At any rate, Tommy has the job and The Stroller was glad to see him get it for Tommy is a good fellow fel-low and a good citizen, besides being a good Democrat. He is also said to be a good Collector of Customs. For these various reasons he doesn't deserve de-serve the hard luck that has been coming his way of late. What with holding down his government job as the regular order of the day, and lounding up the recalcitrant Democratic Demo-cratic herd as a side issue, he has his hands full all the time. It should also be remembered that government jobs are not so desirable nowadays as they used to be. It requires a considerable stretching of the salary to make both ends meet in the face of the h. c. 1., also the anarchists are on a rampage, and federal office holders hold-ers seem to be their particular meat. This last observation is made in all seriousness and with due regard for the dangerous situation confronting the subject of this sketch, because of his open and uncompromising stand for law and order in the community. The statement has been made that Brother Thomas is a good citizen and The Stroller reiterates it. But now comes the crowing misfortune. mis-fortune. The other day a pretentious looking letter came to the Collector of Customs. It bore the insignia of the treasurer of the Democratic national na-tional finance committee and, of course, conveyed the impression of being something "official." It might have been an announcement of a raise in salary since it is from such sources that all Democratic blessings flow but it wasn't. On the other hand, it conveyed the cheerful information infor-mation that an assessment amount-i ing to 10 per cent of one year's salary had been levied to defray the deficit hanging over from last year's campaign. cam-paign. What did the genial Collector say? Well, ask him. It is not revealing reveal-ing a sjate secret, however, to say that this was not the only letter that came to town that day. fr-T FELLOW came into the office $1 yesterday for an argument. "I see that the state has purchased a fine automobile for Governor Bamberger," Bam-berger," he said. "What of it?" I replied. "Well, it strikes me that the governor gov-ernor is putting on too many airs," he retorted. "Oh no, he isn't," I assured him. "It is in keeping with the dignity of the state that the governor should have a car. Besides, the precedent was established es-tablished during a Republican administration admin-istration and nobody kicked then, except ex-cept Governor Spry." "How was that?" "Well, the first machine didn't amount to much. It had chronic engine en-gine trouble and every time the governor gov-ernor attempted to go anywhere in it he got stuck. That recalls a funny incident. One day the governor came into his office, considerably red under un-der the collar. He had been out in his machine and it laid down on him as usual. He sat down to his desk and attempted to write a letter to the agent who sold him the car, telling him what was wrong with it. He en deavored to explain the trouble in technical terms and lost himself in a maze of complicated expressions that no one, not even an expert, could possibly pos-sibly understand. Realizing this, the governor in disgust brought the letter to an abrupt ending in this fashion: 'Your d d old machine runs just like this letter reads. Yours, etc., William Wil-liam Spry.'" BSSUMING that misery still loves company, The Stroller clipped the following jingle from a southern exchange for the benefit of several valued readers of the Weekly who have been unable to reconcile themselves them-selves to the restrictions of prohibition. prohibi-tion. It Is as appealing as it is pathetic: path-etic: Lay the jest about the julep in the camphor balls at last, For the miracle has happened and the olden days are past; That which makes Milwaukee famous does not foam in Tennessee, And the lid on old Missouri is as tight locked as can be; For the eggnog and the rye have completely com-pletely gone awry, And the punch bowls hold carnations, and the South, "By Gawd, Sir, 's dry." By the still side of the hillside in Kentucky Ken-tucky all is still, For now the damp refreshments must be dipped up from the rill; N'th C'lina's stately ruler gives his M "Cola" glass a shove H And discusses local option with the H South C'lina's Gov. H For the mint bed makes a pasture H and the corkscrew hangeth high H And the cocktail glass is dusty and jj the South, g "By Gawd, Sir, 's dry." H All the nightcaps now have tassels H and are worn upon the head, H Not the nightcaps that were taken j when nobody went to bed; H When the Colonel and the Major and H the Gen'l and the Jedge H Met to have a little nip to give their H appetites an edge, H Now each can walk a chalkline when H the stars are in the sky, il For the fizz glass now is fizzless and H the South, H "By Gawd, Sir, 's dry." H Though she still has pretty women H and her horses still are fast, H "Old Kentucky's" crowning glory is a jH memory of the past; H Now the partisans of "Straight goods" EjlH and the "Rectified" speak well, 9H For what's the use of scrapping when H the business' gone to h ; H In those lovely tasseled cornfields all IH the crows are living high, H Each distillery's a graveyard, for the H South, H "By Gawd, Sir, 's dry." H |
