"One day in the latter part of June, when the sun was firing up for a
real old-fashioned Washington summer, and the thermometer about four
degrees below Jackson City, a number of my constituents came on to see
me, and after we had transacted certain important business I undertook
to show the boys the town; and in the party was this fellow, Professor
Seymour.
"We started out one broiling afternoon upon our giddy round of pleasure,
and, after keeping up the festivities all night and a portion of the
next day, I became separated from my friends in some unaccountable way,
and toward evening found myself wandering down town near the wharves. It
was very dusty and close, and the temperature a slice of Hades served up
on a hot plate. There was no need for matches, all you had to do was to
put your unlighted cigar in your mouth and puff away. I was trying hard
to remember why I had on glasses,--they were of no use in the world to
me,--and I was also much astonished to find that I was wearing Seymour's
coat and hat, the latter a typical western slouch, broad-brimmed and
generous. I also sported a tie loud enough to frighten an automobile.
After pondering awhile upon this remarkable state of affairs, the
thought arose so far as I knew I might be Seymour myself! I was
strangely befuddled by the adventures of the past twenty-four hours, and
it was not long before I began to seriously argue with myself that I
_was_ Seymour,--undoubtedly Seymour,--indeed, why should I not be
Seymour as well as any one else? This masterly line of reason settled
it.
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