"Well," said my friend, seriously, "he's _feeling_ for the boy!" Then laughingly: "Hedrick _has_ written some rhymes for the county papers, and Sweeney once introduced him, at an Old Settlers' Meeting, as 'The Best Poet in Center Township,' and never cracked a smile! Always after each other that way, but the best friends in the world. _Sweeney's_ strong suit is elocution. He has a native ability that way by no means ordinary, but even that gift he abuses and distorts simply to produce grotesque, and oftentimes ridiculous effects. For instance, nothing more delights him than to 'lothfully' consent to answer a request, at The Mite Society, some evening, for 'an appropriate selection,' and then, with an elaborate introduction of the same, and an exalted tribute to the refined genius of the author, proceed with a most gruesome rendition of 'Alonzo The Brave and The Fair Imogene,' in a way to coagulate the blood and curl the hair of his fair listeners with abject terror. Pale as a corpse, you know, and with that cadaverous face, lit with those malignant-looking eyes, his slender figure, and his long, thin legs and arms and hands, and his whole diabolical talent and adroitness brought into play--why, I want to say to you, it's enough to scare 'em to death! Never a smile from him, though, till he and Hedrick are safe out into the night again--then, of course, they hug each other and howl over it like Modocs! But pardon; I'm interrupting the lecture. Listen." "A lack of continuity, however," continued the Professor, "and an undue love of approbation, would, measurably, at least, tend to retard the young man's progress toward the consummation of any loftier ambition, I fear; yet as we have intimated, if the subject were appropriately educated to the need's demand, he could doubtless produce a high order of both prose and poetry--especially the latter--though he could very illy bear being laughed at for his pains." "He's dead wrong there," said my friend; "Hedrick enjoys being laughed at; he 's used to it--gets fat on it!" "He is fond of his friends," continued the Professor "and the heartier they are the better; might even be convivially inclined--if so tempted--but prudent--in a degree," loiteringly concluded the speaker, as though unable to find the exact bump with which to bolster up the last named attribute. The subject blushed vividly--my friend's right eyelid dropped, and there was a noticeable, though elusive sensation throughout the audience. "_But!_" said the Professor, explosively, "selecting a directly opposite subject, in conjunction with the study of the one before us [turning to the group at the rear of the stage and beckoning], we may find a newer interest in the practical comparison of these subjects side by side." And the Professor pushed a very pale young man into position. "Sweeney!" whispered my friend, delightedly; "now look out!"