A gentleman, not at all wealthy, who had at one time represented in Congress, through a couple of terms a district not far from the national capitol, moved to California where in a year or so he rose to be sufficiently prominent to become a congressional subject, and he was visited by the central committee of his district to be talked to.
"We want you," said the spokesman, "to accept the nomination for Congress."
"I can't do it, gentlemen," he responded promptly.
"You must," the spokesman demanded.
"But I can't," he insisted. "I'm too poor."
"Oh, that will be all right; we've got plenty of money for the campaign."
"But that is nothing," contended the gentleman; "it's the expense in Washington. I've been there, and know all about it."
"Well you didn't lose by it, and it doesn't cost any more because you come from California."
The gentleman became very earnest.
"Doesn't it?" he exclaimed in a business-like tone. "Why my dear sirs, I used to have to send home every month about half a dozen busted office-seeker constituents, and the fare was only $3 apiece, and I could stand it, but it would cost me over $100 a head to send them out here, and I'm no millionaire; therefore, as much as I regret it, I must insist on declining."
"On a trip to Washington," said Col. W.F. Cody. "I had for a companion Sousa, the band leader. We had berths opposite each other. Early one morning as we approached the capital I thought I would have a little fun. I got a morning paper, and, after rustling it a few minutes, I said to Sousa:
"'That's the greatest order Cleveland has just issued!'
"'What's that?' came from the opposite berth.
"'Why he's ordered all the office-seekers rounded up at the depot and sent home.'
"You should have seen the general consternation that ensued. From almost every berth on the car a head came out from between the curtains, and with one accord nearly every man shouted: