In St. Louis there is one ward that is full of breweries and Germans. In a recent election a local option question was up.
After the election some Germans were counting the votes. One German was calling off and another taking down the option votes. The first German, running rapidly through the ballots, said: "Vet, vet, vet, vet,..." Suddenly he stopped. "Mein Gott!" he cried: "Dry!"
Then he went on—"Vet, vet, vet, vet,..."
Presently he stopped again and mopped his brow. "Himmel!" he said. "Der son of a gun repeated!"
WILLIS—"What's the election today for? Anybody happen to know?"
GILLIS—"It is to determine whether we shall have a convention to nominate delegates who will be voted on as to whether they will attend a caucus which will decide whether we shall have a primary to determine whether the people want to vote on this same question again next year."—Puck.
One year, when the youngsters of a certain Illinois village met for the purpose of electing a captain of their baseball team for the coming season, it appeared that there were an excessive number of candidates for the post, with more than the usual wrangling.
Youngster after youngster presented his qualifications for the post; and the matter was still undecided when the son of the owner of the ball-field stood up. He was a small, snub-nosed lad, with a plentiful supply of freckles, but he glanced about him with a dignified air of controlling the situation.
"I'm going to be captain this year," he announced convincingly, "or else Father's old bull is going to be turned into the field."
He was elected unanimously.—Fenimore Martin.
I consider biennial elections as a security that the sober second thought of the people shall be law.—Fisher Ames.