Mr. Chairman, Your Excellency, Ladies and Gentlemen: My position here to-day reminds me of the story of the old colored gentleman who was being prosecuted for the usual misdemeanor of stealing chickens. When his case was called, the judge, who knew the culprit, looking down into the prisoner’s box where he was seated, said: “Uncle Rastus, are you the respondent in this case?” “No, yo’ honah,” said Uncle Rastus, “I’se not de respondent, I’se got a lawyer here who is goin’ to do all de respondin’ fo’ me; I’se de ge’man who done stole de chickens.” In this case, I am the respondent. The gentleman whom you invited and expected to be present to-day has not stolen any chickens, but he is, unfortunately for you and for him, detained at home by a slight attack of rheumatism, and when I tell you that it was contracted while attending as a delegate the recent national Republican convention at Chicago, you will not be surprised to learn that his malady is inflammatory in its nature. But I want to tell you that Governor Mead is not tying up his sore places with the red bandanna handkerchief. I don’t know how you feel over here, but we in Vermont do not think that the facts and events incident to the present presidential administration afford any man the right, constitutional or otherwise, to charge President Taft with fraudulent practices. I know that this is not the proper time nor place to talk politics, but, as you may have guessed, I am a Republican, and we Republicans don’t have much incentive to blow our political horns in Vermont, because everybody over there agrees with us, and the inspiration of this opportunity in Governor Dix’s jurisdiction was too strong to be resisted. However, I think we had better get on to a safer topic of discussion. (Laughter.)
I suppose that on this occasion I ought to talk about history, but I don’t know enough. I don’t even know whether the battle of Plattsburgh was a land engagement or an aerial contest. The weather is usually a reasonably safe topic, but the temperature here for the past few days has been so hot that it won’t admit of public comment. So I have decided to talk about the scenery. I think I have made a discovery. I have often wondered why it was that you New Yorkers were so much more successful in attracting summer visitors to your territory than we in Vermont. Since I have been over here I have discovered the reason. It is because of the magnificent scenery afforded you on this side of the lake of the Green Mountains of Vermont. You have been capitalizing our resources without our permission. Now you must even things up, and I want to tell you that your Adirondack Mountains appear to much better advantage, and are grander and more magnificent from the viewpoint of the Vermont shore than from anywhere else. If you don’t believe it, come over and see for yourselves. You will find in Vermont just as warm a welcome, just as comfortable hotels, just as good roads, and just as refreshing water,—and other things,—as anywhere else.
And now, Mr. Chairman, in closing, I wish to extend to you and the members of your Commission, the Governor’s regrets, and mine, that he was not able to be with you personally, and to thank you for the many courtesies which you have shown to my friends and myself on this occasion. (Applause.)
Plattsburgh has many enterprising citizens and has had some liberal benefactors. In the latter class, the name of the Hon. Francis Lynde Stetson of New York City, a native of Clinton county and long-time resident of Plattsburgh, will be cherished in grateful remembrance for his many beneficent acts to that city. It was quite natural, therefore, that he accept the Champlain memorial in behalf of the city of Plattsburgh, which he did in the following touching address:
Governor Dix: Through the kind favor of the Mayor of the city of Plattsburgh and in his behalf, I take pleasure in accepting from you this fine gift of the State of New York, worthily set in this beautiful park provided by the liberality of the people of Plattsburgh. The location is ideal, overlooking the most attractive and the most famous bay of this lovely lake, which, unlike most North American waters, bears the name of the discoverer, bestowed by himself. To those here seeking for his monument, as in the case of Sir Christopher Wren, the answer during three centuries might well have been, “look about you.” But now in the fullness of time, the accumulating admiration of many generations has demanded and has found concrete expression in this beautiful memorial of the character, the constancy and the courage of Samuel Champlain, the Christian Explorer. This work of man’s hands cannot enhance his fame, but it can and will indicate to countless generations our capacity to appreciate his virtue.
To carry abroad the gospel of his Lord and Master; to extend the influence and the prosperity of his beloved country; to replace savagery with orderly government and religious civilization, he crossed the Atlantic twenty times; he traced its western shore from Newfoundland to Cape Cod; he explored the Isthmus of Darien, and proposed to join the two oceans; he pierced the Laurentian forests, and discovered not only Champlain but also Nipissing and Huron; and he became the founder of New France. For more than a score of years he ruled in justice and equity, winning the hearts of his countrymen and the almost idolatrous affection of the savage tribes of Canada. His integrity was spotless, his sincerity unquestioned; and his piety was attested by his last will, devoting to religion his entire estate of about $1,000.
That we should give ourselves for others, for community and for country is supposed to be a call specially significant of the present hour. But three centuries since it was heard and was followed by Samuel Champlain at the sacrifice of much that most men deemed desirable. Luxurious ease at the royal court of Henri IV. he despised, and through unbroken forests led the way for civilization, thus answering the question of the Duke in “As You Like It”:
“Are not these woods