Two busy gazabes were discussing politics when I squeezed into the smoker on this particular occasion, and I judge they both had lower berths, otherwise their minds would have been busy with dark and personal fears of the future.
"Well," exclaimed the gabby one from Kansas City, "what is politics? Well, what is it?"
"Politics," replied Wise Willie from Providence, "politics is where we get it—sometimes in the bank, sometimes in the neck!"
Everybody present peeled the cover off a loud laugh and the smokeless hog at the window stole four inches extra space so that he could shake more when he giggled.
"Well," resumed the inquisitive person from Kansas City, "what is a politician? Do you know? Eh, well, what is a politician?"
"A politician," replied the fat man from Providence, "a politician is the reason we have so much politics."
Much applause left the hands of those present, and the smokeless hog turned sideways so that he could make the others more uncomfortable.
"Perhaps," insinuated gabby Jim from Kansas City, "perhaps you know what a statesman is, eh?"
"A statesman is a politician in good luck," was the come-back from our fat friend from Providence, and in the enthusiasm which followed the smokeless hog found out there was no buffet car on the train, so he offered to buy the drinks.
"Don't you believe that all men are born equal?" inquired the Kansas Cityite.