“Sometimes,” said the chairman, “we see clouds of misunderstanding arise between the French—between the English—between the two. The lecturer of this evening makes it his business to disperse these clouds—these clouds—to—to—— But I will not detain you any longer. His name is familiar to all of us. I’m sure he needs no introduction to this audience. We all know him. I have much pleasure in introducing to you Mr.—Mosshiay—Mr. ——” Then he looked at me in despair.
It was evident he had forgotten my name.
“Max O’Rell is, I believe, what you are driving at,” I whispered to him.
.......
The most objectionable chairmen in England are, perhaps, local men holding civic honors. Accustomed to deliver themselves of a speech whenever and wherever they get a chance, aldermen, town councilors, members of local boards, and school boards, never miss an opportunity of getting upon a platform to address a good crowd. Not long ago, I was introduced to an audience in a large English city by a candidate for civic honors. The election of the town council was to take place a fortnight afterward, and this gentleman profited by the occasion to air all his grievances against the sitting council, and to assure the citizens that if they would only elect him, there were bright days in store for them and their city. This was the gist of the matter. The speech lasted twenty minutes.
“HOW DO YOU PRONOUNCE YOUR NAME?”
Once the chair was taken by an alderman in a Lancashire city, and the hall was crowded. “What a fine house!” I remarked to the chairman as we sat down on the platform.
“Very fine indeed,” he said; “everybody in the town knew I was going to take the chair.”