Mr. Cheermon, and Gemmens: Der crisis am upon us. I repeats, surs, and wishes dat dis obserwashun should sink down into de conclusibness ob ebery individooal who heers me. Der Ku--crisis am upon us. As a member of dis spectifle body, I am de las' pusson who would wish to use my perfesshun to cover up dis sollum trufe. We is stannin', Mr. Cheermon, upon de ragged confouns ob de bloody kazzum; and I repeats, dat de question for us to solve dis ebenin' is: Shall we go fowards, or be pushed fowards. [Sensation.] Fur be it frum me to "sing de song ob de sirum" when de liberties ob de black man am inwaded, and de nasshumal honor is bein' piled in de dust by de rabble (rebel) asstocracy. But, surs, lookin' up to de umbragus folds ob dat spar-strangled banner, I is impressed with anoder conclushun, and it is in dese wurds follerin, to wit: We is occupyin' de ticklish edge ob a dillemmer, in de lite ob which de man who crossed de Rubimcom am but a faint epistle. Yes, my spectifle feller-bredren, to use a catephoricle flower ob de tropics, we have arriv' at a tite spot. We am obfusticated, so to speak. [Assenting groans throughout the assembly.] Den de riddle for us to read dis ebenin', in de light ob dese distressin' surkumstances, is: What ar' to be did? In addressin' de collectiv' wisdum of dis orguss resemblage, I axes, is we to go fowards? Is we to wait till de nex' ebenin' or de nex' year? Is we to fold our hans behind our bax, and hole our bref suspinely until de Klu-Krux animile has squatted hisself squar' down on our liberties? Is we, I ax, to bump down in de middle ob dat rode whar' de Klu-Krux Juggernox goes tootin' majestercally along over de dethroned carcasses ob de black man, and whar you may holler peace! peace! but you can't be heard; and you wouldn't be notissed if you was.