SENATOR CARTER: “_Mr. Toastmaster, Fellow Members of the Society, Ladies and Gentlemen_: I am billed upon this program to deliver a ‘Capital Welcome.’ I at once disclaim ability to do that. [Illustration: RIGHT REVEREND M. C. LENIHAN. Bishop of Great Falls, Montana. Vice-President of the Society for Montana. ] “‘Capital Welcome’ seems to imply a good or excellent welcome, and that accomplishment is beyond me,—but I most cheerfully extend to you a cordial welcome to this, the Capital City of our common country, and I sincerely hope that as you each depart from here, you will not feel impelled to write upon the register a sentiment similar to that written by one of our distinguished fellow-countrymen upon leaving a watering-place in England. Each of the party was called upon to write on the register of the hostelry a sentiment, and one bright member wrote these words: ‘I came here for change and rest; the porter has the change, the landlord the rest.’ “The man who wrote that was not the same man whom Brother Lee desires me to tell about, who described the kind of a man that Casey was. The man at the head of the table said ‘What kind of a man is Casey?’ ‘Well,’ says Murphy, ‘I’ll tell you what kind of a man Casey is. I went over to Casey’s house. Says he to me, “Murphy, will you have a drink?” I says, “Of course I will, Mr. Casey.” He says, “Murphy, shall I pour or will you pour?” “Pour yourself,” says I, “Mr. Casey.” He says, “All right, tell me when to stop.” He poured out a drop or two, and out of politeness I said “Stop, Casey,” and Casey stopped. That’s the kind of a man Casey is.’ “This Society needs no welcome to the Capitol City of this nation. Wheresoever you may turn in viewing our parks or avenues or historic halls, you will see in bronze and in marble mute evidences of the appreciation expressed by a grateful people of the achievements and contributions of the Irish and the Irish Americans, in building up and maintaining this great Republic. “In LaFayette Square, immediately in front of the White House, is a statue of Andrew Jackson, a renowned President of the United States who was the son of an Irishman. Out in the northwest part of the city, but a few days ago, we assembled to unveil an equestrian statue to a man whom General Grant pronounced the greatest soldier of any time, the son of an Irishman, Philip Sheridan. Come down but a little farther and you will find a square adorned with trees and flowers, and in its center a beautiful statue to Admiral Farragut, of Irish blood on his mother’s side. Over in Iowa circle, to the northeast of this point, is the statue of General John A. Logan, the son of an Irishman. Pennsylvania Avenue has been gazed upon for years and years by the sightless eyes of a bronze statue of General John A. Rawlins, the confidential friend of the peerless victor of Appomattox. General Rawlins was of Irish extraction.