"Probably you never thought how it is to be a Candidate," continued
the other. "You go from place to place, and make the same speech
every night, and it seems as if you slept in the same hotel every
night, and almost as if you met the same Committee. But you have to
remember that your speech is new to each audience, and you have to
make it as if you had never made it before; also you have to
remember that the Committee is made up of devoted comrades who are
giving everything for the cause, so you don't tell them that they
are just like every other committee, or that you are tired to death,
or maybe have a headache--"

Jimmie sat, gazing in awe-stricken silence. Not being a man of
reading, he had never heard of "the head that wears a crown". This
was his first glimpse into the soul of greatness.

The Candidate went on: "And then, too, Comrade, there's the news
from Europe. I want a little time. I can't bring myself to face it!"

His voice had grown sombre, and to Jimmie, gazing at him, it seemed
that all the sorrows of the world were in his tired grey eyes.
"Perhaps I'd better go," said Jimmie.

"No no," replied the other, with quick self-recovery. He looked and
saw that Jimmie had forgotten his meal. "Bring your things over
here," he said; and the other fetched his cup and saucer and plate,
and gulped the rest of his "sinkers" under the Candidate's eyes.

"I oughtn't to talk," said the latter. "You see how hoarse I am. But
you talk. Tell me about the local, and how things are going here."