People's Pilot, Volume 2, Number 51, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 June 1893 — ALITTLE COMEDY OF ERRORS [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

ALITTLE COMEDY OF ERRORS

By SSMORTON

[Copyrighted 1891, by S. S. Morton, and published by special arrangement 1

CHAPTER XV.— ConnutriCD. North was in recklessly high spirits now; and he greeted his caller with a torrent of lively nonsense. Weighed down by the responsibilities devolving upon him as a member of the executive ■ committee, and disapproving of North’s levity on so important an occasion, Warner was in no mood to appreciate this nonsense, and his answers were Bhort, business like and far between. Consequently something like seriousness had settled down over North before they had walked two squares together. It was only the outward semblance, however; his inward mood was one of reckless mirth and daring—a mood upon which he confidently depended to carry him through the evening. The pretty little opera house was Crowded from pit to gallery when North stepped out on the stage in the full blaze of the foot lights. He was welcomed cordially by the gentlemen there assembled, members of the executive committee and distinguished citizens who had been specially invited to grace the stage with their presence. As he was responding to this welcome the audience discovered him, and instantly a murmur of enthusiasm swept over the house, culminating in a storm of applause that made North look around involuntarily, though he did not think of appropriating the compliment until Warner, who was just at his elbow, whispered sharply: “Why don’t you acknowledge your reception, North? For goodness’ sake, do keep your wits about you better than this!” Thus admonished, North turned to the audience with a profound bow, which was greeted with fresh bursts of applause; then, as the chairman —a pompous old gentleman whose lengthy list of titles, all with the prefix “Ex,” testified to a long life of active public services, now gracefully laid aside—rose to call the meeting to order, North took refuge in an arm chair in a retired position on the stage, where, though an inconspicuous figure himself, he could command a comprehensive view of the house, and settled himself with a slight shrug and with feelings that can be more easily imagined than described, to survey the large audience who were soon to hang spell-bound, so he humbly ventured to hope, upon his eloquent utterances. After the brief preliminary remarks of the chairman, which were received with a good-natured demonstration, as if the audience at least had assembled themselves together with the best intentions imaginable, whatever might be said of the speakers, and meant to applaud and hurrah, whatever hap-

pened, a tall, solemn man made a short address in which he said a great many sensible things in a very tiresome, mournful, utterly unimpassioned way which had a soporific effect upon the audience and set even the best-inten-tioned ones to yawning surreptitiously. He was listened to unresponsively until he closed his remarks with the announcement that “he would now yield the floor to others who would occupy it more acceptably.” Then the auditorium rang with the loud applause, which might have been construed either as a hearty indorsement of his final statement or as the involuntary expression of the self-congratulation of the audience for two separate and distinct causes, to-wit: First, that the gentleman’s remarks had been briefand, secondly, that the gentleman’s re, marks were now ended. He was followed by several other speakers, of that class so well known to a long-suffering public; orators who, with nothing at all to say, talk cn forever in the blind belief, perhaps, that this American republic is to be preserved and perpetuated through the

same agency that once saved Rome. All the elements ordinarily enter into a heated political demonstration were present there—the ranting denunciation of all opposing parties; the “magnetic enthusiasm* that caused the audience to howl with patriotic fury; the glowing tributes to national heroes dead and gone, whose illustrious careers had about as much to do with the local elections of X as the great men themselves would have had, if they had been living; the heavy thunder of the big guns and the rattling fusillade of the lighter artillery which was brought into use for the first time in the present campaign. The political situation was duly set forth in various styles of oratory—the ornate, the spread-eagle, the laboriously off-hand, and, rarest of all, the plain, practical common-sense style; and, as North listened critically to every word that was spoken and noted the effect upon the audience, he gathered many valuable hints for his own speech, which he was quick to appropriate and apply. Then as the last speaker, one of Ollin North’s fellow-candidates, sat down, flushed with his enthusiasm and the exhilarating effect of his eloquent gestures, the audience settled themselves with an air of expectancy for the chief event of the evening, their future city attorney’s address. There was a brief interval between the acts, during which the orchestra played choice* selections from “Patience” and “Martha,” and other wellknown light operas, interspersed with popular sentimental and patriotic airs, the whole forming a pot-pourri adapted to the various tastes of the audience. A hum of voices filled the house. The gentlemen in plain view on the stage conversed together decorously or sat in grave dignified silence gazing up at the glittering lights or down at their respective and highly polished boots as if they fully appreciated their conspicuous position and wished to set the public an example of behavior worthy of imitation; while North, leaning back languidly in his deep arm chair, quite hidden from general view by the portly figure of the chairman, conversed in a tantalizing way with his friend Warner, who had taken advantage of the temporary lull in the proceedings to urge upon North with stem vehemence the necessity of dropping all levity and rising to the occasion. All of which apparently had no effect upon North; and Warner was in despair. At that interesting crisis a slight sensation was produced by the arrival of CoL Clipper. North had already noticed and wondered at his absence. He crossed the stage with stately, commanding tread, bowing informally to the gentlemen there assembled, and slipping behind the outer circle of chairs he made his way to North’s side. “Got here at last!” was his triumphant though somewhat superfluous announcement, delivered breathlessly as if his exertions to appear upon the scene had been attended with great exhaustion; and he shook hands with North vigorously, nodding to Warner at the same time in a confidential way. “Detained so long at the office,” he added, addressing North, “that I was afraid I should miss your speech; but I see I’m just in time. What’s the prospect—considerable enthusiasm in the audience? How is that, Warner?” turning to that gentleman as if he considered him the more competent judge. “A very good feeling on aU sides,” was Warner’s prompt report. “Tremendous enthusiasm in reserve, if it’s only skillfully aroused;” and he glanced sharply at North as if to add: “You can do it if you will, but that’s a doubtful question as yet.” The colonel nodded in a perfectly satisfied way, and at that instant, some public-spirited person having checked the mad career of the orchestra, they put up their instruments with an evident consciousness of having done their worst, and a slight paroxysm of applause rounded off the performance. As silence gradually settled over thd house the chairman *rose, turned toward North with a significant glance, and then, in a few highly eulogistic remarks, introduced to the audience “our distinguished fellow-citizen and candidate for city attorney, Mr. Ollin North, who now appears before you as the orator of the evening, and who will address yon in his usual eloquent manner, on the interesting theme—ahem!— ‘The Political Future of X ; What It Might Be, and What They Who Constitute the City Government Should Strive to Make It.’ ” The worthy chairman delivered this fine volley of words with quite an oratorical flourish, then paused and gazed around upon the audience, who now began to cheer rather impatiently, as if conscious that in working up that theme for North the zealous committee had done a very neat thing. North himself, as he stroked his mustache ■nervously to conceal the amused smile that rose to his lips, thought in a momentary panic: “The future of X ! And I’ve been studying up the political past and present, letting the future take care of itself! However, the theme allows me considerable latitude, and I may find it easier to deal with shadowy futurities than with past and fulfilled realities.” With this hopeful reflection he stepped forward, bowed to the chairman, and amid the ringing applause that greeted him he made his graceful salute to the audience, while his eye swept the galleries with perfect selfpossession as if, in thus facing his large constituency, he felt no lack of confidence either in his own strength and ability or in their appreciation and support. Waiting only until the enthusiasm had subsided sufficiently for him to make his voice heard, North began with a graceful acknowledgment of the reception that had been accorded him; weaving into his remarks with consummate tact the most delicate flattery of the audience, which was ingenuously indorsed by hearty cheering. Then he mentioned Col. Clipper’s name, and, amid the applause that this reference elicited, he proceeded briefly to eulogize that gentleman’s devoted public services, giving due credit to Warner and others who, as faithful coadjutors,

had stood shoulder to 'sfiooldfer vritlh the valiant colonel in many a hard-won fight Finally, having struck fire from the audience by these skillful and well-di-rected blows until the glow could be seen and felt in all parts of the house. North glided neatly and effectively into the elaborate theme that had been announced for him. It has been sometimes advanced as an axiom in oratory, founded on the experience of many famous public speakers, that there can be no signal success promised to any orator who does not approach his audience with a feeling of diffidence amounting even to stagefright Granting this to be correct, there was a brilliant promise of success in the frame of mind with which Allan North entered upon his address. During all the time he was speaking with such ease and fluency he was watching the audience with a keenness that would have detected the slightest evidence of an unfavorable impression; and it was no doubt due in part to this intense interest and concentration of his own thought upon the audience that he held them in such close sympathy and attention. The very novelty of his situation, instead' of embarrassing him,

seemed to afford him a peculiar inspiration, and as by degrees he gained confidence from the hearty applause that he received he gave himself up to the influences and illusions of the moment, and himself, heart and soul, into what he was saying. So completely was he swept along by the force of his own imagination that he quite forgot he was not the man whom everyone m that large audience firmly believed him to be; and instead of a comedy played of necessity for his own convenience, the whole affair became to him, for the time, an important and dignified reality. He grew earnestly interested in his theme, and after sketching with vivid oratory all the possibilities that lay in the future, when the commercial and manufacturing interests, now in their infancy, the educational facilities, the natural advantages of X were fully developed, he closed with a strong and eloquent plea for justice, liberty and morality, without which no enduring prosperity could be attained. The assembly were held in a state of almost breathless attention from the beginning to the close of the address; and when finally with a brilliant peroration that led by rapid degrees to *an eloquent climax, the speaker bowed his farewell to the audience, they broke forth into a storm of applause that rained down from the galleries and swept in tempestuous waves over the house.

It was unquestionably the most astounding success that Allan North had ever achieved; and when it was all over his astonishment fairly balanced his relief. As soon as he could escape from the admiring populace, who showered compliments and congratulations upon him and insisted on shaking hands with him, after the impulsive custom of the average American, he was carried off to his hotel by his two right-hand men, Clipper and Warner, who seemed to feel as much pride in his manner of acquitting himself as if they had shared the achievement. “Best thing you ever did, North,” was Clipper’s verdict, as he parted from North at the hotel. “Gets away with even that speech in court that made you so famous last winter. Don’t you think so, Warner?” “Decidedly!” was Warner’s brief and emphatic assent. And only one man in X knew to what diligent effort and calm daring that brilliant success was due.

CHAPTER XVI. Prince Henry—What pagan may that be? —King Henry IV. It is no doubt delightful, and a thing to be greatly desired and zealously striven for, to stand well with our fel-low-men; nevertheless, there is such a thing as an oppressive and embarrassing popularity. It is not, indeed, the universal privilege to learn this fact by personal experience; but Allan North was fated to make the agreeable discovery. He awakened the next morning to the knowledge that he was, at least for the present time, the most popular man in X——; and he was forced to submit smiling to the enthusiastic hero-wor-ship that the fickle public is always So ready to lavish upon its favorites. Had his mind been free from any personal anxieties and cares he might have found this an interesting experience; but there were many matters vitally affecting himself, whose importance so far overshadowed the political issue with which he had become temporarily identified, that its intrusion upon his thoughts and attention seemed like an impertinence,only to be endured as philosophically as possible for policy’s sake. The unexpected demand upon him for a formal public address and the necessity of meeting this emergency had for the time driven his own affairs from his mind; but no sooner was the crisis safely passed than his thoughts turned more eagerly than ever to the possibilities and hopes and fears which the last two days had developed. That one moment, when he stood before the steps of the Clement house and caught

[ . , 'A the fleeting vision of one who, if she were not in very troth the proud and beautiful Myra who had once reigned royally in his heart and who now lived in his bitterest memory, was so strangely like her that the sight of her face had thrilled him with sadden passion—that one moment, full of keen pain, of eager, mad hope, he had lived over and over again, solacing himself thus until the moment should come when he could change this suspense to certainty. In the meantime, speculation was rife. If it were really she, his Myra, by what strange fatality did they meet here in X ? And why should she be with Mrs. Maynard? By what curious freak of fortune were these two women, whose interests had become so closely interwoven with his own, though he had never before suspected their mutual connection, thus thrown together? Of course his reflections on this point were mere fruitless conjecture; nevertheless they possessed a great fascination for him, and even his satisfaction at having solved the mystery so long enveloping Annie Dupont was quite eclipsed iby this far deeper personal feeling. He did not, however, lose sight of the necessity for caution; and for the present he realized that his professional interests must be paramount. The flower Buccess, which he hoped to pluck, was still just a little beyond his reach and surrounded by the nettle uncertainty; until this prize was secured he must close his eyes to all other allurements even though his only chance, or hope of happiness lay within them. It was therefore solely in pursuance of his professional duties—-or so he assured himself with great emphasis—that he went on the morning following his signal success at the opera house to call on Mrs. Maynard, before proceeding to Evansburg on his second and probably decisive visit, and give her some hint of the turns that affairs wero taking. His walk thither was enlivened by a curious incident, which, however, he might soon have forgotten but for its speedy and embarrassing sequel.

A TALL SOLEMN MAN MADE A SHORT ADDRESS.

MADE HIS GRACEFUL SALUTE TO THE AUDIENCE.