MCK.—My dear boy, you are unduly alarmed: the notion of letting Spain keep those other islands is merely a Proposal Retractable—in undiplomatic language, an offer with a string to it. AG.—And your plan of holding Luzon—after taking it? MCK.—Rest in peace: that is only what we call an Intention Augmentable. AG.—Ah, Señor, you make me so happy! ASPIRANTS THREE _The Incumbent._ _The Born Candidate._ _The Ambitious Mariner._ INCUMBENT: Sir Admiral, ’twas but two years ago I turned you loose against a feeble foe, Gave you a chance to write your unknown name In shouting letters on the scroll of fame, Stood by you with a firmness almost sinful, Fed you with honors till you had a skinful, Plied you with praise till drunk as any lord— And this, George Dewey, this is my reward! So drunken with success you seem to be That you have visions of succeeding—Me! AMBITIOUS MARINER: Why, blast my tarry toplights! what’s this row? And which of you is speaking, anyhow? INCUMBENT (_aside_): He thinks I am beside myself. Alas, He sees, as through the bottom of a glass, Darkly. Strange how this pirate of the main With an eye single to his private gain Beholds things double! Would that I, poor worm, Could see in duplicate my four years’ term. The fellow’s looked too long upon the cup— I’ll get behind his back and trip him up, Break his damned neck, and then the tale repeat Of how, poor man, he fell o’er his own feet. That’s politics. [_Enter Born Candidate._] Good Heavens, I am caught! BORN CANDIDATE: Hello, McPresident! INCUMBENT: Did you see aught Suspicious in my actions? BORN CANDIDATE: Well, I guess There might have been an aspirant the less If I had longer stayed where I was “at.” INCUMBENT: And may I venture to ask where was that? BORN CANDIDATE: Along the roadside, hidden in the rye To see the famous Admiral go by. A look had done me good if I had got one. It happened, by the by, I had a shotgun. AMBITIOUS MARINER (_to Born Candidate_): Shiver my timbers! you’re a dandy crimp— That figure-head of yours would scare a shrimp. INCUMBENT (_to Born Candidate_): Let’s try less candid measures to remove him: Moral dissuasion would perhaps improve him. We can (when he’s not full of “old October”) Appeal from Dewey drunk to Dewey sober. BORN CANDIDATE (_to Incumbent_): Said like a lawyer (’tis a grand profession!) But that appellate court is ne’er in session.