May I not appeal to the children of those brave settlers who, when but few in number, composed of distant and feeble settlements, were received into the Union of States, to show their chivalry and love of justice by uniting with us in the demand that Dakota and Washington shall be admitted? [Applause.] Does not your own story shame those who represent you in the halls of Congress and who bar the door against communities whose numbers and resources so vastly outreach what you possessed when you were admitted to statehood? We look hopefully to Kentucky. The State of Henry Clay and Abraham Lincoln [enthusiastic cheering] cannot be much longer forgetful [cries of "No! no!"] of the teachings of those great leaders of thought. I believe that Kentucky will place herself soon upon the side of the truth upon these great questions. [A voice, "We believe it!" Another voice, "We will keep them out of Indiana, anyhow!" Great cheering.] Thank you. There is no better way that I know of to keep one detachment of an army from re-enforcing another than by giving that detachment all it can do in its own field. [Applause and laughter.] The last visitors of the day were 200 delegates, in attendance upon the sessions of the National Association of Union Ex-Prisoners of War. They were led by Gen. W. H. Powell, of Belleville, Iowa, President of the Association; E. H. Williams, of Indianapolis, Vice-President; Chaplain C. C. McCabe, New York City; Historian Frank E. Moran, Philadelphia; President-elect Thomas H. McKee and Secretary L. P. Williams, Washington, D. C.; S. N. Long, of New Jersey, and J. W. Green, of Ohio. Every one of the visiting veterans had undergone imprisonment at Andersonville, Libby, or some less noted Southern prison. Conspicuous among them was Gen. B. F. Kelly, of Virginia, the first Union officer wounded in the rebellion, and J. A. January, of Illinois, who amputated both his own feet while in Libby Prison, to prevent gangrene spreading. General Powell, in a brief address, touchingly referred to the perils and hardships they had survived. General Harrison was greatly affected by the scene--the veterans grouped closely about him in his own house. He paused a moment in silence, then in a low, sympathetic voice, said: