Sweet is pleasure after pain.”
Returning to the living present he spoke of the many enduring benefits derived from being a member of the Keeley Club. He said that it filled him with great pleasure to see that the efforts of himself and associates were not in vain, the attendance showed the sympathy and interest that was taken in the movement by the applicants. Furthermore, he thought it would be well, on account of the number of applications, to form the club into branches, and that the first branch be called the German branch in honor of the tent in which it was formed. This suggestion met with hearty approval, and the work of organization was immediately begun. At the expiration of the solemn ceremonies connected therewith Private Flanagan of the Irish tent arose, and, after congratulating the learned doctors of the Keeley Club on the success of the meeting, invited all present to attend a pink tea that would be held in his tent that evening at eight P. M. Dr. Lang arose, and, with a breast heaving with suppressed emotion, said that he felt gratified and honored that his efforts and the efforts of his comrades had met with the distinguished approval of a gentleman who could boast of such royal lineage as Mr. Flanagan. The liberal invitation extended to all betrayed the true prince’s heart, and, on behalf of the members of the Keeley Club, he accepted the invitation with great pleasure.
The members of the Irish tent for the rest of the day were actively engaged making preparations for the evening’s entertainment, and not until a certain dark object was rolled beneath the flap of their tent did they cease their labors. Soon after supper those desirous of getting front seats began to arrive, among them being Van Sieberst, Gillie, Dick Radke, Sam Wise, and Jimmy Wear. By eight o’clock the tent was crowded to suffocation; the flaps were then raised, so that those who could not get in could hear and see. In the middle of the tent, resting on a cracker-box, was a mysterious object, draped in a flaming red comforter, a color dear to the heart of every true Keeley. Upon this object the eyes of all were centered, and many and varied were the comments concerning it. Henry Adams said that it was so short and broad it might be a statue of Grover Cleveland. “That’s about the size of him,” said Doc O’Malley, who had seen Grover from a distance during his short stay in Washington a year previous. “Mentally or physically”? inquired Max Claussenius, who likes to delve in the abstract. But the way some of the boys cuddled up to it was sufficient proof that it was not a cold and lifeless statue, and the general conclusion was that it must be the pink tea. Mr. Bannon made the address of welcome, and, amid wild applause, unveiled that which had been the object of so much curiosity, revealing a nice, plump keg of hop juice. Jimmy Wear, by acclamation, was placed in charge of the liquid refreshments, and spent a very busy fifteen minutes. After a few variations on the whistle by Doc Sieberst, Dr. Kennedy arose and stated that on account of the extreme hoarseness of Dr. Lang, occasioned by his oratorical efforts during the day, he had been requested to say something in reply to the graceful remarks of Mr. Bannon. After speaking in complimentary terms of the nature of the entertainment, and the large audience present, he referred to the absence of Sergeant Kelley, Privates Crowley and Hayes, who were called away to do extra picket duty, and who were at that moment, with sleepless and vigilant eye, guarding the camp. He said, that greatly pleased as he was with the result of the afternoon’s work, it would be a crowning joy could he this evening create the nucleus of another branch of the beloved order, and advanced the idea that had been put into effect with so much enthusiasm in the afternoon by the members of the German tent, and call the new branch, the Irish branch. (Prolonged applause.) Continuing, he dwelt upon the happy results obtained by belonging to the organization, and the great benefits from an intellectual point of view; to breathe the same air, imbibe the same liquids with such intellectual giants as Dr. Burdick, Antonelli Gille, Sam Wise, and Joe Keene would result in permeating them with all the knowledge of the ancients and moderns, books could be thrown to the wind while sitting at the base of such monuments of learning. Amid the wildest applause Mr. Flanagan gravely arose, like a knight of old, and thus addressed the assembly. He said he was satisfied that the forming of the branch suggested by Mr. Kennedy, would meet with the hearty approval of every man in the Irish tent. As for himself he had been always a Keeley at heart, their principles had at all times filled him with admiration. The organization that contained in its by-laws that shining legend, “An invitation to imbibe is always in order,” deserved the commendation of every thinking man. He had only one request to make, and that was, that the circle composed by the members of his tent be called after his great ancestor, Ireland’s greatest king, Brian Boru. The enthusiasm at this point beggars description; the stirring words of Mr. Flanagan brought every man to his feet, and, amid great cheering, a bumper was drank to the welfare of the Brian Boru Lodge, of the Irish Branch of the Keeley Club. Through the storm of cheering the inspiring air, of “The Harp that Once Through Tara’s Halls,” burst upon the gathering rendered by Doc Sieberst on the tin whistle. After order was restored the initiating ceremonies were gone through, and the rest of the evening given up to song and recitation.
Taps put an end to their revelries, and, after many congratulations on all sides, each man went to his tent and soon the stillness of the night settled o’er the camp.
This silence was suddenly broken in upon by an uproar created by Sam Wise. Sam had gotten a little mixed when he retired, and, instead of disposing his body inside the tent, had become turned about and the most part of him was sticking out through the rear of the tent into G’s street. A guard passing down the street stumbled and fell on him. Sam, thinking he was being assaulted by the enemy made such a violent effort to beat off the imaginary foe, that he nearly dragged the tent down upon his comrades, at the same time yelling lustily for help. It was some time before he was quieted, and finally fell asleep.
Thus did this day come to a close, a day that will shine forever in the annals of the Keeley Club, a day crowded with pleasant memories, a day on which two lusty branches had put forth from the parent trunk, to grow, to blossom, and to bear fruit.
CHAPTER VI.
GENERAL EFFECTS OF THE STRIKE.