'He didn't say no more all the trip. I shot him up.'
'But the election'—it was inquired—'did you succeed in that?'
'Oh, yes; and the man that we put in, made a fool of himself at Albany, into the Legislature, and there was a piece put into a book about him a'terwards.'
'Ah?—what was it?
'Here it is,' was the reply of my gentleman, as he drew from his pocket a worn fragment of a printed page.
'On the first day of the session, he was enabled to utter the beginning of a sentence, which would probably have had no end, if it had not been cut short, as it was, by the Speaker. On the presentation of some petitions, which he thought had a bearing on his favorite subject, the election by the people of public notaries, inspectors of beef and pork, sole-leather, and staves and heading, he got on his legs. 'When,' said he, 'Mr. Speaker, we consider the march of intellect in these united, as I may say confederated, states, and how the genius of liberty soars, in the vast expanse, stretching her eagle plumes from the Pacific Ocean to Long-Island Sound, gazing with eyes of fire upon the ruins of empires——' just at which point of aërial elevation, the Speaker brought down the metaphorical flight of the genius, and that of the aspiring orator together, by informing the latter that he should be happy to hear him when in order, but that there was now no question before the House!'[20]
'But what was the name of this man?' was a query following this eloquent extract.
'Smith, Sir, was his name; Smith, John Smith, of Smithopolis, and surrogate of Smith County. He was the first man in Smithville; was a blacksmith in his youth, a goldsmith a'terwards, and John Smith through all. A consistent man, Sir; no change with him; always upright, but always poor; unchanging, for he had nothing to change with! He was a distinguished man; had letters advertised in the post office; owned a blood horse; led the choir at church; read 'the Declaration' on every Fourth-of-July; made all the acquaintances he could; was exceedingly fussy on all occasions. In short, he was a very great man in a small way. His speech will stand as a memorial of his genius, when the Kattskill shall be troubled with the mildew of time, and the worms of decay!'