The Chair:—“If that feller back there thinks ’e c’n run this meet’n better’n it’s bein’ done, let ’im come up in front. This chair’s goin’ to do its smokin’ while it’s alive instid o’ wait’n ’till afterwards like some people. We gotta have some dignity about this thing, an’ you fellers keep quiet! Now who makes any more nominations?”
After some further parliamentary bickering, the reluctant Bill was duly reëlected, as usual.
“Now,” he continued, “havin’ got this turr’ble weight offen our chests, the next business’ll be the ’lection of a new boss, fer Sophy Perkins has left us. She’s gone way off some’rs where the winds are blowin’ an’ she’ll never come back. Mr. Posey has been suggested fer new secretary an’ treasurer. Does anybody nominate ’im?”
“He’d be a good man to take in the money, but he’d make a hell of a secretary!” shouted somebody in the crowd.
“Never mind, does somebody nominate ’im?” continued Bill.
“How d’ye know Sophy’ll never come back?” demanded another voice from the rear.
“How do I know? How do I know anything? Shut up!” replied the chair with asperity.
Mr. Posey modestly declined his impending honors, but was elected.
“The next business,” announced Bill, “is the report o’ the chair on the case o’ Mr. Josh Varney. Some o’ you’ll prob’ly faintly recollect of ’is havin’ been among us some time ago.”
He then related the story of Plunkett, revealed the sins of Varney in all their sable hues and commented caustically on the soft headedness of the victims of that artful tactician.