“All right, then. You look up a good reliable local bootlegger and see if you can get me about two quarts of drinking water.” § 220 The Perfect Introduction In his second race for president W. J. Bryan was beaten. In fact, it will be recalled that in all his races for the presidency Mr. Bryan has been beaten. But in the 1900 campaign, while Democracy lost nationally, certain local triumphs were here and there achieved. A city in northern New York which usually went Republican by an overwhelming majority reversed itself and elected for Mayor a German flour miller. It was felt that the victory deserved suitable celebration. The local Democrats organized a monster rally. The Great Commoner accepted an invitation to attend the jubilation and deliver the principal address. It was deemed fitting that the newly chosen Mayor should sponsor the distinguished guest. Now, the Mayor was a good citizen and his flour was above reproach, but he was no orator; indeed, until this occasion came, he had never in all his life formally addressed a public assemblage. The great evening came and a great host gathered. Side by side on the platform sat Bryan and the Mayor-elect. The latter’s secretary had written a suitable speech for His Honor’s use, and His Honor laboriously had memorized it. But as he waited the cue to launch himself in his new rôle it was plain to be seen that the gentleman was in a distressful state. He was deathly pale. Perspiration rolled down his face in streams, wilting his collar; and when finally he stood up, all present could tell from his expression that the last shreds and remnants of the carefully rehearsed oration treacherously had departed from him. He choked and gulped. Then, seizing inspiration out of sheer desperation he made what Mr. Bryan subsequently declared to be the most complete speech of introduction that Bryan in all his long career on the stump and the rostrum ever has heard or ever expects to hear. “Ladies und chentelmen,” said the Mayor, “I haf been asked to bresent to you Mister Vilhelm Chenninks Bryne, who vill speak. I haf now done so! He vill now do so!” § 221 An Answer Right Off the Ice Just before he started on that famous Arctic expedition of his which was crowned with success, the late Admiral Robert E. Peary boarded a train at New Orleans. He settled down in the smoking compartment to enjoy a cigar. Presently there entered a rather self-sufficient young man who took the seat adjoining and engaged Peary in conversation. “Well,” he began, “I’m off on a long hard trip.” “Yes? Is that so?” said Peary, politely. “Yep. I go clear through to Louisville. Traveling far yourself?” “Yes, a fair distance,” said Peary. “Well, I’m bound clear through to Louisville, as I was saying. Pretty tiresome trip, too—all the way through from New Orleans to Louisville.” “Probably so,” agreed Peary. “By the way,” said the young chap, “you didn’t tell me where you were going?”