"They all helped me pretty faithfully in my election campaign," he replied.
"You didn't need help," I protested; "you would have been elected no matter if they had not worked, for there was no rival candidate."
"But there would have been," he said, flushing, "if I had not given them to understand that, if elected, I would take care of them satisfactorily."
It is quite safe to say that the college politician would seldom be moved in his selection of a cabinet of helpers and advisers by any appeal as to their fitness and experience. He does not pay much attention to his rivals, no matter what their claims to merit may be, when it comes to the partitioning out of offices or committee jobs. Any one who is familiar with the political complexion of a college community could pick ninety per cent. of the appointees to office if he were told who the appointing officer is.
"I want to appoint the best man in college to be chairman of the invitation committee," an upper class president said to me not long ago.
"The most reliable man you could choose is Briggs, whom you defeated in the election," I suggested.
"What would my friends think of me if I appointed him?" he asked.
"They'd think you had independence and nerve, and you ought to be able to stand that," I replied. But he had neither.
The most comforting part of all my years of experience and acquaintance with college politicians is the fact that every year I find the man who has inde-
