Our Government has long been out of print, but over the years many of the satires have been produced as one-act plays by small theater groups. The dialogues included here are from the “State Government” section of Our Government, and all but two (“Counsel” and “The Judiciary”) originally appeared in The American Mercury. “The Governor” was also included in Katherine and E. B. White’s Subtreasury of American Humor, which always pleased Cain, who wrote Mrs. White in 1941: “The piece is one of the few things I have written that I have real affection for and it means almost more to me than I care to admit to have it in there.”
The last dialogue included here, “Don’t Monkey with Uncle Sam,” was written for Vanity Fair in 1933 and was an obvious attempt to revive the dialogue form for satirizing the government which had worked so well for Mencken, who left The Mercury in 1933. But it was Cain’s last effort at this type of satire.
The Governor
THE GOVERNOR’S office, about two o’clock in the afternoon. Ranged about the table, talking in whispers, area petitioner for a pardon, dressed in ordinary clothes but having a pasty pallor, a singularly close haircut, and a habit of starting nervously whenever he is addressed; two guards, carrying guns on their hips in holsters; a witness, a prosecutor, and counsel for the petitioner. THE GOVERNOR enters, accompanied by a woman secretary, and they all stand up until he has sat down and donned his glasses. In a moment a lovely aroma begins to perfume the air. It is such an aroma as pervades a bonded distillery, and unmistakably it comes from the head of the table, where THE GOVERNOR has taken his place.
Gen’lemen, y’ may p’ceed.
Yes, Yexcellency.
’N I’ll ashk y’ t’ be ’s brief ’s y’ can, c’se busy af’noon w’ me. Gi’ me th’ facksh, that’s all I w’nt know. ’M plain, blunt man, got no time f’ detailsh. Gi’ me facksh, ’n y’ won’t have t’ worry ’bout fair trea’m’nt f’m me.
I think I speak for everybody here, Yexcellency, when I say we’re all anxious to save Yexcellency’s time, and—
’Preciate ’at.
And so I imagine the best way would be for me to sketch in for Yexcellency, briefly of course, the history of this case, I may say this very unusual case.
So unusual, Yexcellency, that the Parole Board threw up its hands and refused to have anything to do with it whatsoever, and that is why Yexcellency’s valuable time—
Nev’ min’ Parole Board. Is ’t mer’tor’s case, tha’s all want know.
I understand that, Yexcellency. I only wanted to say that the prawscution regards this case as abslutely prepawstrous.
A’right. Y’said it.
Now, Yexcellency, this young man Greenfield Farms, this young man you see here—
One mom’nt. When’s ex’cution take plashe?
I’m glad Yexcellency reminded me of that, because praps I ought to have explained it sooner. Fact of the matter, Yexcellency, this is not a capital case.
Gi’ me facksh, gi’ me facksh! I got no time f detailsh. When’s ex’cution take plashe, I said.
Yes, Yexcellency. I was only telling Yexcellency that there won’t be any execution, because—
Wha’s ’at?
Because this young man Farms wasn’t sentenced to death; he was sentenced to the penitentiary—
Oh!
On a ten year term, ten years in prison, for participation in the armed march we had some years ago, when the miners made all that trouble. Or, as it’s never been clear in my mind that Farms had any idea what he was doing at that time—
Never did. I hope my die I just went out there to see what was going on—
Hey! Sh!
Praps I should have said alleged participation.
And another thing praps you should have said was that of his ten years in prison he has already served three and he’ll get two more off for good behavior and that leaves five and five is a little different from ten.
C’me on, c’me on!
I’m only—
Y’ only pett’fogg’n. Shu’ up.
Now, Yexcellency will recall that as a result of that uprising, six defendants, of which Farms was one, were convicted of treason to the State and the rest were allowed to plead guilty of unlawful assemblage—
Don’t was’ m’ time talk’n ’bout ’at upris’n. I know all ’bout it. I’s right there ’a saw fi’ thous’n of ’m march by m’own front ya’d. Get on ’th facksh.
Then if Yexcellency is familiar with that, we’re ready now for this witness, and after he has told his story I can outline briefly to Yexcellency the peculiar bearing it has on this case, and—
Is ’at witness?
Yes, sir.
Sit over here where I c’n see y’ better. ’N don’t shtan’ ’n awe ’f me. Washa name?
Ote Bailey, sir.
Shpeak right out, Bailey. ’M plain, blunt man ’n y’ needn’t shtan’ ’n awe ’f me.
Now, Bailey, if you’ll tell the Governor in your own words what you told the Parole Board—
Well, it was like this. I was coming down the street on the milk-wagon early in the morning, right down Center Street in Coal City, and it was cold and there was a thin skim of ice on the street. And the mare was a-slipping and sliding pretty near every step, because she was old and the cheap dairy company hadn’t shoed her right for cold weather. And—
Wha’s ’at? Milk-wagon?
Just a moment, Yexcellency. Now, Bailey, you forgot to tell the Governor when this was.
This here was twenty-three year ago come next January.
All right, now go ahead and—
Hol’ on, Bailey, hol’ on. [To COUNSEL] Young man, I got worl’ o’ patience. ’M plain, blunt man, a’ls will’n t’ help people ’n distress, p’ticularly when — p’ticularly — p’ticularly — h’m — p’ticularly. But wha’s twen’ three yea’s ’go got t’ do ’th ’is ex’cution? Tell me that.