the millionary chronology of the pundits

Gentlemen must enter the gallery unhatted, and remain so until they depart.

Hell and tarnations, I've known them for muddleheads and blockheads half my life, and firsthand, but I sure didn't expect them to take leave of their senses, insulting our office of President, making our Party into a white demagogue's party, slapping the Negro vote in the face.

(There’s nothing like a state dinner to get my mouth watering — gingered pheasant consommé!)