"Now here," he said, stopping before a small chest with a glass top,
"here is my collection of straws."
"Straws?" I said.
"Yes. It is small but select. Here, for instance, is the last straw that
broke the camel's back. Some one suggests that it must have been a Merry
Widow hat, but that's jesting, of course. This again is the straw that
showed which way the wind blew and enabled a politician to change sides
and get a reputation as a reformer. We will see the politician further
on." I noticed then for the first time that the iron-barred cages
contained human beings as well as beasts. "Here is a handful of straws
which an entire conference of theologians spent three months in
splitting. This," pointing to a little mannikin about four inches high,
"is the man of straw whose defeat in debate gave one of our United
States Senators his brilliant reputation. And this, finally, is a
handful of straws out of the pile on which Jack Daw slept when he gave
up his bed to buy his wife a looking-glass, or, as some one has
suggested, an automobile.
"And now observe the advantages of my method.
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