We have the collector here with us--and the post-office.
The postmaster is----"
"Sh-sh-sh!" whispered the prompter again. "He's in jail."
"I mean the assistant postmaster is also with us. And there are our
other institutions, the----"
"There's going to be a prize-fight to-night," cried a young lieutenant
who had taken too much wine, at the foot of the table. "Dandy Sullivan
against Joe Corker."
This interruption was too much for the commissioner, who was quite
unable to resume the thread of his remarks for several moments. The
guests in the mean time moved uneasily in their seats, for most of them
were anxious to be off to see the fight.
"Those who carp against us at home," continued the speaker, trying in
vain to find some graceful way of coming to a close, "those who
dishonor the flag are the men who pretend to be filled with humanity
and to desire the welfare of mankind. They pretend to object to
bloodshed. They are mere sentimentalists. They are not practical men.
They do not understand our destiny, nor the Constitution, nor progress,
nor civilization, nor glory, nor honor, nor the dear old flag, God
bless her. They are sentimentalists. They have no sense of humor."
Here the audience applauded loudly, altho the speaker had not intended
to have them applaud just there. It occurred to him that he might just
as well stop at this point, and he sat down, not altogether satisfied,
however, with his peroration and vexed to think that he had forgotten
Sam altogether.
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