Then stepped up the large and lanky dog of the hungry eyes, lolling out his tongue and panting with his recent great exertions, and feebly tottered up the eminence to testify. But before he commenced, Chancy Mountebank Dephool Flea got hold of him, and demanded of him his name, that he might introduce him. Then Dephool Flea stepped forward and said, “Dogs and fellow citizens: This respected citizen says his name is Honest Labor, and that he desires to say what the Flag has done for his soul. Oh, fellow citizens, I need not tell you that such as he are the pride and strength of our common country, that it is to him and the Lowly Toiler, that the grandeur, magnificence and superbity of our material prosperity are due. Let us all gratefully remember that without him and his unceasing toil, this country had not been; that to him are we beholden for a large part—if not the largest part—of our wealth; that our brain, without his diligent paw, would have been absolutely useless; that in the upbuilding of this great country, he was the greatest factor, and that to him we look for its defence, its perpetuity.
“And I may say that it is our pride that this is a country, this is THE country, this the ONLY country in the world, where Honest Labor is held in honor; yea, in reverence; yea, that is crowned with glory and honor, and given first place in our esteem, and——” Here a loud voice came from afar off in the crowd, “First place at the grub basket would suit him better,” followed by great confusion, alarm, and a great rush of police dogs that way, and a sound of thumped heads. The fleas looked anxious, and the Bamboozlers uneasy, and Andronicus Carnivorous, scenting danger, sidled off. Dephool Flea was much discumfuzzled, and nearly lost his cherubic smile; but he heroically held up his end, and continued:
“As I was saying, other effete countries have their kings and lords; but here we recognize no king, but Honest Labor [great cheers and restoration of confidence], no order of nobility but that of Humble Toil; and in no country does Honest Labor get so large a share of his own product, or hold his head so high with the conscious pride of his own worth. I have the proud honor and precious privilege of introducing him.”
During all this speech, it was noticed that poor Honest Labor was changing visibly. At first his hungry eye grew bright, and his nostrils distended; and as the eloquence waxed in tumidity and turgidity, his head was lifted up and began to swell and swell, and at the crowning reference to his coronation as a king, it took a sudden and mighty inflation that made his body and legs look ridiculously thin and small and spindling by comparison.
“What thinkest thou of our Chancy now?” said Harry Grandadhat, to his dear friend, the Holy One a Maker of long prayers, as he pointed to the Phenomenon.
“Called and chosen, called and chosen,” replied One a Maker of prayers, “God hath indeed given unto him great talents.”
“The Bamboozle prospereth indeed,” said Mak Tinley, and tipping the wink to the Monstrous Fleas, he whispered to one of the nearest of them, whose name was Shikago Pigsfoot, “Brother, merrily will go the Blood and Bones Mill after this.”
“Yes, yes,” replied Shikago Pigsfoot, “the last drop of blood shall be squeezed out of them. I am famishing to see the Mill going again, it seems an awful loss to waste a whole day when every tiny drop of blood is so precious to us; but I suppose this bamboozle is all for our ultimate good. Oh, that to-morrow were here and the Mill going!”
Then stepped forward Honest Labor, and having made obeisance to the Flag, as he had seen the flea speakers do, he spake:
“Feller dogs; this is the proudest moment of my life. Feller dogs, you mustn’t expect a fine speech from me, for as I was born poor and hungry, I had to turn out at eight months old to scratch for bones to eke out the family living. Consequently, I haint had no eddication. My father, whose name was Lowly Toil, and is dead now, having been taken off early by a mysterious epidemic called ‘Vacuity of the Alimentary Canal,’ that was going about at that time, was always too poor to give me any eddication; but, bless the Lord, he gave me what is far better—he early planted in my youthful breast the love of country. Says he to me, says he, he says, ‘Honny, this ’ere’s your Country and that there’s your Flag, and you’ll never get such another Country with such another Flag on it, if you sarch the earth over. It’s the finest Country and the finest Flag that ever was or ever will be, and don’t you forget it.’ [Burst of applause from the fleas and dogs too.] Says I to him, says I, I says, ‘Father, I never will; come dark, come light, come weal, come woe, come anything, I’ll never go back on my Country and my Flag.’ [Tempest of cheers.]