“He's all of that,” assented the old Judge; “he's a regular Cicero--seems to know this here oratory business frum who laid the rail. He don't never jest plain ast somebody to do somethin'. He adjures 'em by the altars of their Sunny Southland, and he beseeches 'em by the memories of their sires; but he don't ast 'em. And I took notice, durin' the few minutes I lingered on--spellbound, ez you mout say, by the witchery of his voice--that when he gits holt of a good long word it ain't a word no more. He runs her as a serial and every syllable is a separate chapter. “Oh, no; I ain't got a word to say ag'inst the distinguished gentleman's style of delivery. I only wisht I had his gift of melodious expression. I reckin ef I did, I'd talk in public part of the day and sing the rest of the time. But the p'int is, son, that me and Lew Lake have heared consid'able of that particular brand of oratory in our day, and after a little spell of listenin' we decided betwixt ourselves that we favoured the quiet of the sylvan dell to the heat and dust of the forum. So here we are, ez you behold us. “One speech mere or less won't make much difference in the gineral results, noways, I reckin. Down here in the pennyrile country we'll all vote the regular ticket the same ez we always do; and the Republikans will vote their ticket, bein' the stubborn unreasonable creatures that they are; and then our boys'll hold back the returns to see how many Democrat votes are needed, and up in the mountains the Republikans will hold them back to see how many Republikan votes are needed--and that'll be the whole upshot of it, onless the corrupt scoundrels should succeed in outcounting the party of the people. “Of course there's a great crisis hoverin' over our country at present. There's a crisis hoverin' every four years, regular--to hear the orators tell it. But I've took notice that, after the votin' is over, the crisis always goes back in its hole to stay till the next presidential election, and the country remains reasonably safe, no matter which side gits in; though I admit it's purty hard to convince the feller who's already got a government job, or hopes to git one, that the whole nation won't plumb go to thunder onless his crowd wins.” “Still, Billy,” put in Doctor Lake, “there was a time when all these high-sounding phrases about duty and patriotism meant more to us than they do now--back in the spring and summer of Sixty-one--eh?” Behind the Judge's spectacle lenses sparks of reminiscence burned in his faded blue eyes. He lifted his cup ceremoniously and Doctor Lake lifted his, and I knew they were drinking to the memory of olden days.