When the question of appropriating a certain sum for the support of the town Almshouse was reached, Obadiah Strout sprang to his feet and called out, "Mister Moderator," in a loud voice. He was recognized, and addressed the chair as follows: "Mister Moderator, before a vote is taken on the questions of appropriatin' for the support of the town poor, I wish to call the attention of my fellow-citizens to a matter that has come to my knowledge durin' the past year. A short time ago a man who had been a town charge for more than three years, and whose funeral expenses were paid by the town, was discovered by me to be the only brother of a man livin' in Boston, who is said to be worth a million dollars. A very strange circumstance was that the son of this wealthy man, and a nephew of this town pauper, has been livin' in this town for several months, and spendin' his money in every way that he could think of to attract attention, but it never occurred to him that he could have used his money to better advantage if he had taken some of it and paid it to the town for takin' care of his uncle. These facts are well known to many of us here, and I move that a ballot--" Tobias Smith had been fidgeting uneasily in his seat while Strout was speaking, and when he mentioned the word "ballot," he could restrain himself no longer, but jumped to Bids feet and called out in his stentorian voice, "Mister Moderator, I rise to a question of privilege." "I have the floor," shouted Strout, "and I wish to finish my remarks. This is only an attempt of the opposition to shut me off. I demand to be heard!" "Mister Moderator," screamed Abner Stiles, "I move that Mr. Strout be allowed to continue without further interruption." The Moderator brought his gavel down on the table and called out, "Order, order." Then turning to Tobias, he said, "Mr. Smith, state your question of privilege." Strout sank into his seat, his face livid with passion; turning to Stiles, he said, "This is all cooked up between 'em. You know you told me you saw Smith and Stackpole and that city chap drivin' away from the Deacon's house last Saturday mornin'." Stiles nodded his head and said, "I guess you're right."