“The oysters had been disposed of,” continued Florence, “and the soup had just been placed on the table, when Charley Gaylor arose, and, in very impressive tones, spoke about as follows: ‘Gentlemen, I think this is a most auspicious occasion to bring about peace between two men who, while strangers, were once devoted friends. I do not think that rancor could exist in any heart at a gathering of this kind. To be sure, it may ill become me to act the part of a peacemaker, for, while it is true I have shed human blood, that my right hand has been red with, the gore of another, it must also be borne in mind that I was triumphantly acquitted of the offense, and that a jury of my peers said that I had acted only in self-defense.’ [Illustration: DAN BRYANT AND NELSE SEYMOUR.] “You can readily imagine that this took the breath out of my friend Lee, who had been seated upon my left. He whispered to me, ‘What has he done? Did he kill anyone?’ I looked at him warningly, and put a finger on my lips as I whispered back, ‘Sh-h-h! It was nothing; only his mother!’ I heard him mutter, ‘My God!’ as he shrunk in his chair, and then he leaned toward me and whispered, ‘Of whom is he speaking?’ As I didn’t know myself, I couldn’t well tell him, but I warned him off by saying, ‘You will learn it all in a moment. His words might apply to any two men about the board, because every fellow here has killed his man.’ * * * * * “Just then Gaylor threw light upon the subject by saying, as he pointed with one hand to that clever negro minstrel, Dan Bryant, and the other toward that equally famous delineator of cork humor, Nelse Seymour, ‘Of course, gentlemen, it is hardly necessary for me to say that I refer to America’s most famous poet, William Cullen Bryant, and that equally distinguished gentleman, M. Seymour, the son of the talented ex-Governor of the State of New York, Horatio Seymour, and I now request that these two gentlemen shake hands across the table and let the bloody feud which has existed between them end here!’