Short stories, American; United States -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
"'Xcuse me, Mr. Speaker," said George Washington, rising with his hand
in his bosom; "as de question is befo' us, I wish to say that de las'
bro' mus' have spoken under 'xcitement. Every man _don'_ have his
price! An' I hope de bro' will recant--like as de Psalmist goes out o'
his way to say '_In my haste_ I said, All men are liars.' He was a
very busy man, de Psalmist--writin' down hymns all day, sharpen'n' his
lead-pencil, bossin' 'roun' de choir--callin' Selah! Well, bro'n an'
sisters"--both arms going out, and his voice going up--"one day, seems
like, he was in gre't haste--got to finish a psalm for a monthly
concert, or such--and some man incorrupted him, and lied; and bein' in
gre't haste--and a little old Adam in him--he says, right off, quick:
'_All_ men are liars!' But see--when he gets a little time to set back
and meditate, he says: 'Dis won' do--dere's Moses, an' Job, an'
Paul--dey ain't liars!' An' den he don' sneak out, and 'low he said,
'All men is lions,' or such. No! de Psalmist ain't no such man; but he
owns up, an' 'xplains: '_In my haste_,' he says, 'I said it.'"
The foreman rose and rapped.
"I await a motion," said he, "if our friend will allow me the
privilege of speaking."
Mr. Washington calmly bowed.
Then the foreman, when nobody seemed disposed to move, speaking
slowly, at first, and piece-meal, alternating language with smoke,
gradually edged into the current of the evidence, and ended by going
all over it again, with fresh force and point. His cigar glowed and
chilled in the darkening room as he talked.
"Now," he said, when he had drawn all the threads together to the
point of guilt, "what are we going to do upon this evidence?"
"I'll tell you something," said Eli. "I didn't want to say it because
I know what you'll all think, but I'll tell you, all the same."
"Ah!" said the foreman.
Eli stood up and faced the others.
"'Most all o' you know what our Bar is in a south-east gale. They
ain't a man here that 'uld dare to try and cross it when the sea's
breakin' on it. The man that says he would, lies!" And he looked at
the foreman, and waited a moment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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