"'I was referring,' says he, 'to the president of this republic. His country is in a desperate condition. Its treasury is empty, it's on the verge of war with Nicamala, and if it wasn't for the hot weather the people would be starting revolutions in every town. Here is a nation,' goes on Wainwright, 'on the brink of destruction. A man of intelligence could rescue it from its impending doom in one day by issuing the necessary edicts and orders. President Gomez knows nothing of statesmanship or policy. Do you know Adam Smith?' "'Lemme see,' says I. 'There was a one-eared man named Smith in Fort Worth, Texas, but I think his first name was--' "'I am referring to the political economist,' says Wainwright. "'S'mother Smith, then,' says I. 'The one I speak of never was arrested.' "So Wainwright boils some more with indignation at the insensibility of people who are not corpulent to fill public positions; and then he tells me he is going out to the president's summer palace, which is four miles from Aguas Frescas, to instruct him in the art of running steam-heated republics. "'Come along with me, Trotter,' says he, 'and I'll show you what brains can do.' "'Anything in it?' I asks. "'The satisfaction,' says he, 'of redeeming a country of two hundred thousand population from ruin back to prosperity and peace.' "'Great,' says I. 'I'll go with you. I'd prefer to eat a live broiled lobster just now; but give me liberty as second choice if I can't be in at the death.' "Wainwright and me permeates through the town, and he halts at a rum-dispensary. "'Have you any money?' he asks. "'I have,' says I, fishing out my silver dollar. 'I always go about with adequate sums of money.' "'Then we'll drink,' says Wainwright. "'Not me,' says I. 'Not any demon rum or any of its ramifications for mine. It's one of my non-weaknesses.' "'It's my failing,' says he. 'What's your particular soft point?' "'Industry,' says I, promptly. 'I'm hard-working, diligent, industrious, and energetic.' "'My dear Mr. Trotter,' says he, 'surely I've known you long enough to tell you you are a liar. Every man must have his own particular weakness, and his own particular strength in other things. Now, you will buy me a drink of rum, and we will call on President Gomez.'" III "Well, sir," Trotter went on, "we walks the four miles out, through a virgin conservatory of palms and ferns and other roof-garden products, to the president's summer White House. It was blue, and reminded you of what you see on the stage in the third act, which they describe as 'same as the first' on the programs.