THE MONOPOLIST'S NIGHTMARE
ONE OF THE duties of a politician is the making of speeches. It is a duty not lightly to be set aside, merely because public affairs are pressing. By making speeches, the politician gets his picture in the paper, usually surrounded by other politicians and pretty girls; sometimes a citizen and taxpayer is in the picture too. School exercises of all kinds, but especially graduations, offer a fine opportunity. One afternoon early in June, Thad Buchanan and I dashed from the Capitol for me to deliver a commencement address in Glascock County. Thad was a little uncertain about his road, but presently we discovered a country schoolhouse surrounded by automobiles that gave evidence of such a gathering. We went indoors.
I thought that the principal and the chairman of the trustees seemed a little surprised at the visit, but they were extremely cordial and escorted me to the platform, and introduced me to the crowd. When I sat down from making my speech twenty minutes later, the principal whispered that I was at the wrong