The fellow who lends pays that."
"If I loan money do I have to pay taxes on it when I haven't got it?"
"Certainly, and you pay just the same if there's no prospect of its
ever being repaid."
"That's funny."
"Funny! Why, our Massachusetts tax laws are funnier than a comic
almanac, and about as sensible."
Quincy took up a pen and began writing.
"What are you writing, father?"
"I'll show you in a few minutes."
"How will that do?"
Quincy read:
QUINCY ADAMS SAWYER, _President_. QUINCY
ADAMS SAWYER, Jr., _Treasurer_. THOMAS CHRIPP,
_General Manager_. Cash Capital, $200,000.
Cable, _Vienna_. 20 _Stores_.
THE SAWYER GROCERY COMPANY, INC.
Wholesale and Retail.
"Just the man I had in mind, father. You can depend upon him every
time, and he'll keep his subordinates right up to the mark."
Upon his return to his native state Quincy had found many of his old
friends still in office. The governor and higher officials were only
annuals--some not very hardy at that--while the minor officials, in
many cases, were hardy perennials, whom no political hot weather or
cold storm could wither or destroy.
A presidential campaign was on, and speakers, for there were few
orators, were in demand. Quincy's visits to so many cities inspecting
the Company's stores had brought him in contact with hundreds of
local politicians.
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