A delegation from Kansas visited Theodore Roosevelt at Oyster Bay some years ago, while he was president. The host met them with coat and collar off, mopping his brow.

“Ah, gentlemen,” he said, “dee-lighted to see you. Dee-lighted. But I’m very busy putting in my hay just now. Come down to the barn with me and we’ll talk things over while I work.”

Down to the barn hustled President and delegation.

Mr. Roosevelt seized a pitchfork and—but where was the hay?

“John!” shouted the President. “John! where’s all the hay?”

“Sorry, sir,” came John’s voice from the loft, “but I ain’t had time to throw it back since you threw it up for yesterday’s delegation.”