“Don’t you think our friend Crossum might loom up as a dark horse?”

“No,” declared Senator Sorghum, “record’s too shady.  It would require a great deal of whitewashing to qualify him as a dark horse.”

YOUNG HOPEFUL—­“Father, what is a traitor in politics?”

VETERAN POLITICIAN—­“A traitor is a man who leaves our party and goes over to the other one.”

YOUNG HOPEFUL—­“Well, then, what is a man who leaves his party and comes over to yours?”

VETERAN POLITICIAN—­“A convert, my son.”

During a municipal campaign in Chicago a politician dropped in one morning to see a certain grocer.  During the conversation that took place, the politician asked, “And I may count upon your support, may I not?”

“Why, no, I am sorry to say,” replied the grocer.  “The fact is, I have promised my support to the other candidate.”

The politician laughed.  “Ah,” said he, “in politics, promising and performing are two different things.”

“In that case,” said the grocer cordially, “I shall be glad to give you my promise, sir.”

STRANGER—­“Upon what plan are your city institutions conducted?”

CITIZEN-"A sort of let-George-do-it system—­without any
George.”—­Puck.

POSTAL SERVICE

WILLIS—­“What did you think of that fellow’s carrying the message to Garcia?”

GILLIS—­“Don’t blame him a bit.  With our poor Post Office service, it was the only way he could get it to him.”

COUNTRY LADY—­“I’ve been expecting a packet of medicine by post for a week, and haven’t received it yet.”

POST-OFFICE CLERK—­“Yes, madam.  Kindly fill in this form, and state the nature of your complaint.”

LADY—­“Well, if you must know, it’s indigestion.”

Aunt Mehitable Trusalive wants to know why it is every letter she gets somebody is always printing on the outside:  “Join the Navy.”  She declares to goodness she never thought of such a thing and if they don’t stop she’ll have the law on them.

DASHER—­“This parcel-post package is being delivered in unusually quick time.  How do you account for it?”

MAIL-CARRIER—­“The department thought it contained a time-bomb, sir."-Judge.

FANNING—­“What’s become of that rubber stamp, ’Dictated, but not read,’ that you used to use on your letters?”

DASHER—­“I threw it away and got one that prints, ’Mailed, but not delivered.’”

POVERTY

Poverty is the greatest of physicians.  His method is prophylactic rather than therapeutic, but in point of results he is in a class by himself.

His practice attests the efficacy of the ounce of prevention in big doses.

Poverty ranks high as a surgeon, too.  Nobody else cuts out so many things that are not good for us.

In a way he has the respect of the profession.  Where he is in charge of a case no other practitioner is apt to interfere.