All appeared to agree to this sage opinion, and held their “hosses” accordingly. At length a pause occur-ing, as agreed upon by the editor of the county paper, the principal lawyer of the town toasted “The Press, the guardian of republican liberty.” This toast was offered to afford the county editor a chance to deliver a speech, which he had prepared for the occasion, but before he could clear his throat and get upon his legs, John had gained the floor, and in a clear tone called the attention of the table. Here was a subject upon which John was at home—he knew the press “like a book,” and with easy manner and consummate assurance, opened upon the great subject of its power. As he proceeded, all eyes dilated!—he pictured its progress from its earliest advent—its days of weakness, until its present wide-spread influence and power; he grew eloquent, and at length wound up with the following flourish:
“To the press, gentlemen, we owe all the astonishing achievements of modern times—they are the fruits of its power. It was the press which in an iron age unshackled the mind of man and gave free scope to his intellect,—taught him to soar over the elemental fields which gird him round about, and search into the sources of his own being, the causes which produced the great harmony in universal nature, and how to draw from those causes effects which would promote his happiness—sent him forth upon the great field of discovery, and spreading his achievements before the world, drew forth the might of mind to his aid, and now having led him to subdue the very lightning to his will, is by its aid scattering intelligence broadcast through the earth. It is not merely the guardian of Liberty—it is its creator! As the sun is to the solar system, so is the press to human society; eclipse either, and man is left in a night of darkness more dreadful than annihilation!”
Applauses long and loud greeted his closing words; even the ladies, looking through the windows of the hotel from the porch which surrounded it, joined in the tokens of satisfaction, and now more eagerly than ever the question was propounded—“who is he?” No one knew, but all were high in his praise, and honors were showered so thick upon him that he hardly knew what he was about—every body wanted to drink with him, and he drank with every body. Order was called for his toast, and he gave—“The ladies of M.—If heaven should blot out the stars, we will not discover the loss while surrounded by their bright eyes.”
The huzzas became so deafening, the glory was so unexpected, and the liquor was so pungent, that John lost his compass, and began to beat about wild. Some one said he would make a first rate stump speaker, and to prove his capability he commenced a political speech,—sad mishap!—sad, because he forgot which side he should be on! and commenced a most scathing tirade against the very party he was feasting with. He had so won upon their good opinion that they listened patiently for awhile, but patience soon melted away, and “turn him out,” was shouted from all sides of the table—the editor of the county paper was most violent for thrusting him out, for John had cut him out of his speech on the press.
“Turn him out!” shouted the editor, “he's a base spy in the camp.”
John perceived in a moment his fatal error, and felt happy that it did not occur until dinner was over—he felt that he had made an impression, and was proud that it was through no compromise of principle he had tasted of their hospitality, and showed them he was an opponent still; all that remained now, was to make a dignified retreat, and raising, with some difficulty, erect, he said:
“Gentlemen, when I entered, (hic)-tered this assembly, I thought I was among brethren, but I, (hic) I find I was deceived, and that I have been somewhat contaminated through error, so, (hie) so with your permission I'll withdraw and repent. I will no long-(hic) longer be one of you, but go forth to breathe a freer air.”
At this moment he raised his hat to place it on his head, with a flourish, when out dropped the half of a chicken, and two doughnuts, which he had stowed away for a lunch. Their falling just at that particular moment bothered him, and to leave them there bothered him worse, but to pick them up was too humiliating—he scorned the action; since they would fall, why there let them lie, he would none of them.
“Old fellar,” said a hoosier citizen, “you'd better pick up your chicken fixens afore you go.”
“Never!” shouted John, indignantly, “I should des-(hic) despise myself if I carried off the spoils of the enemy—you and your fragments may go to the d———!”