Some time after, the chairman of the committee came to me and said: "Young fellow, we won't be hard on you, but the State committee has done this once before. We were promised a very popular speaker well known among us, but in his place they sent the damnedest fool who ever stood before an audience. However, we have sent to Binghamton for Daniel S. Dickinson, and he will be here in a short time and save our big mass-meeting." Mr. Dickinson came and delivered a typical speech; every sentence was a bombshell and its explosion very effective. He had the privilege of age, and told a story which I would not have dared to tell, the audience being half women. He said: "Those constitutional lawyers, who are proclaiming that all Mr. Lincoln's acts are unconstitutional, don't know any law. They remind me of a doctor we have up in Binghamton, who has a large practice because of his fine appearance, his big words, and gold-headed cane. He was called to see a young lad who was sitting on his grandmother's lap. After looking at the boy's tongue and feeling his pulse, he rested his head in deep thought for a while on his gold-headed cane and then said: 'Madam, this boy has such difficulties with the epiglottis and such inflamed larynx that we will have to apply phlebotomy.' The old lady clasped the boy frantically to her bosom and cried: 'For heaven's sake, doctor, what on earth can ail the boy that you are going to put all that on his bottom?'" Mr. Dickinson introduced me as the head of the State ticket. My speech proved a success, and the chairman paid me the handsome compliment of saying: "We are glad they sent you instead of Governor Andrew." One of the most effective of our campaign speakers was General Bruce, of Syracuse, N. Y. The general had practically only one speech, which was full of picturesque illustrations, striking anecdotes, and highly wrought-up periods of patriotic exaltation. He delivered this speech, with necessary variations, through many campaigns. I was with the general, who was Canal commissioner when I was secretary of state, on our official tour on the Canal. One night the general said to me: "Mr. Blank, who has a great reputation, is speaking in a neighboring town, and I am going to hear him." He came back enraged and unhappy. In telling me about it, he said: "That infernal thief delivered my speech word for word, and better than I can do it myself. I am too old to get up another one, and, as I love to speak, I am very unhappy."