by Doc Sieberst, Dr. Kennedy arose and stated that on account of the extreme hoarseness of Dr. Lang, occasioned by his oratorical efforts during the day, he had been requested to say something in reply to the graceful remarks of Mr. Bannon. After speaking in complimentary terms of the nature of the entertainment, and the large audience present, he referred to the absence of Sergeant Kelley, Privates Crowley and Hayes, who were called away to do extra picket duty, and who were at that moment, with sleepless and vigilant eye, guarding the camp. He said, that greatly pleased as he was with the result of the afternoon’s work, it would be a crowning joy could he this evening create the nucleus of another branch of the beloved order, and advanced the idea that had been put into effect with so much enthusiasm in the afternoon by the members of the German tent, and call the new branch, the Irish branch. (Prolonged applause.) Continuing, he dwelt upon the happy results obtained by belonging to the organization, and the great benefits from an intellectual point of view; to breathe the same air, imbibe the same liquids with such intellectual giants as Dr. Burdick, Antonelli Gille, Sam Wise, and Joe Keene would result in permeating them with all the knowledge of the ancients and moderns, books could be thrown to the wind while sitting at the base of such monuments of learning. Amid the wildest applause Mr. Flanagan gravely arose, like a knight of old, and thus addressed the assembly. He said he was satisfied that the forming of the branch suggested by Mr. Kennedy, would meet with the hearty approval of every man in the Irish tent. As for himself he had been always a Keeley at heart, their principles had at all times filled him with admiration. The organization that contained in its by-laws that shining legend, “An invitation to imbibe is always in order,” deserved the commendation of every thinking man. He had only one request to make, and that was, that the circle composed by the members of his tent be called after his great ancestor, Ireland’s greatest king, Brian Boru. The enthusiasm at this point beggars description; the stirring words of Mr. Flanagan brought every man to his feet, and, amid great cheering, a bumper was drank to the welfare of the Brian Boru Lodge, of the Irish Branch of the Keeley Club. Through the storm of cheering the inspiring air, of “The Harp that Once Through Tara’s Halls,” burst upon the gathering rendered by Doc Sieberst on the tin whistle. After order was restored the initiating ceremonies were gone through, and the rest of the evening given up to song and recitation. Taps put an end to their revelries, and, after many congratulations on all sides, each man went to his tent and soon the stillness of the night settled o’er the camp.