No, ladies and gentlemen, the lost Irish tribes of the South are not lost; they are not lost any more than the “wild geese” that flew across the Channel from Ireland were lost. They are not lost any more than the McMahons who went to France, or the O’Donnells who went to Spain, or the Simon Bolivars and the O’Higgins who went to South America, or the O’Farrells and the O’Briens who went to Cuba. For their Irish blood is of the strain that cannot be extinguished and it lives to-day, thank God, in the attributes and the habits and the customs and the traditions of the Southern people. Most of all it lives in one of their common characteristics, which, I think, in conclusion, may possibly be best suggested by the telling of a story that I heard some time ago, of an Irishman in Mobile. As the story goes, this Irishman on Sunday heard a clergyman preach on the Judgment Day. The priest told of the hour when the trumpet shall blow and all peoples of all climes and all ages shall be gathered before the Seat of God to be judged according to their deeds done in the flesh. After the sermon he sought out the pastor and he said, “Father, I want to ask you a few questions touching on what you preached about to-day. Do you really think that on the Judgment Day everybody will be there?” The priest said: “That is my understanding.” “Will Cain and Abel be there?” “Undoubtedly.” “And David and Goliath--will they both be there?” “That is my information and belief.” “And Brian Boru and Oliver Cromwell will be there?” “Assuredly they will be present.” “And the A. O. H.’s and A. P. A.’s?” “I am quite positive they will all be there together.” “Father,” said the parishioner, “there’ll be damn little judgin’ done the first day!” (Applause and laughter.) * * * * * * Transcriber’s note: Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.