Hodges, of Princess Anne, was an interesting member; wore large, iron-rimmed spectacles and had a solemn, owl-like way of staring through them. One day, he gave the convention the creeps: "Dar's a boy in dis House," he said with awful gravity, "whar better be outen do's. He's done seconded a motion." The House, following his accusing spectacles and finger, fixed its eye upon a shrivelling mulatto youth who had slipped into a member's chair. A coloured brother took the intruder's part. Lindsay threw himself into the breach: "Mistah Presidet, I hears de correspondence dat have passed an' de gemmun obsarves it have been spoken." "I seen him open his mouf an' I seen de words come outen it!" cried Hodges. The usurper, seizing the first instant Hodges turned his head another way, fled for his life, while somebody was making motion "to bring him before the bar." The convention's thorn in the side was Eustace Gibson, white member from Giles and Pulaski, who had a knack for making the convention see how ridiculous it was. Negroes were famous for rising to "pints of order"; they laughed at themselves one day when two eloquent members became entangled and fell down in a heap in the aisle and Mr. Gibson, gravely rising to a point of order, moved that it was "not parliamentary for two persons to occupy the floor at one time." When questions of per diem arose, sable eloquence flowed like a cataract and Gibson's wit played like lightning over the torrents. Muzzling was difficult. "Mistah Churman, ef I may be allowed tuh state de perquisition--" a member would begin and get no further before a persuasive hand on his coat-tails would reduce him to silence. Dr. Bayne's coat-tails resisted force and appeal. "I wants $9, I does," he said. "But den I ain' gwi be dissatisfied wid $8.50. Cose, I kin live widout dat half a dollar ef I choose tuh. But ef I don' choose tuh? Anybody got anything tuh say 'gins dat? Hey? Here we is sleepin' 'way f'om home, leavin' our wives an' our expenses uh bode an' washin'. Why, whut you gwi do wid de po' delegate dat ain' got no expenses uh bode an' washin'? Tell me dat? Why, you fo'ce 'em tuh steal, an' make dar constituen's look upon 'em as po' narrer-minded fellers." One member murmured plaintively: "I ain' had no money paid me sence 'lection--" "Shew! She-ew! Shew!" his coat-tails were almost jerked off. "You gwi tell suppin you ain' got no business!" "Mr. Churman, I adject. De line whar's his line, an' dat's de line I contain fuh--" "Shew! She-ew! Set down!" "What de Bible say 'bout it?" demanded a pious brother. "De Bible it say: 'Pay de labour' de higher.' Who gwi 'spute de Book?" "This debate has already cost the State $400," Mr. Gibson interposed wearily.