A Failure As An Orator

It being announced that the Hon. Samuel Jones Plumstead, of Chicago, was in the ante-room, prepared to make bis g.eat speech on the subject, "Our Firesides- How to Make Tliem Happy or Unhappy," he was escorted into the hall ■ by the President, who introduced him as follows: "Gem'len, I taken de widest kin' o' pleasure in presentan' to you dis wellknown Chicago orator, who is often spoken ob by de highes' papers as ' De Bald Efigie ob de Plains.' I hez no doubt dat he will mash dis subjeck in de most brilliant manner, an' thus add anoder leaf to de chaplet tied upon his marble brow. Now, den, keep doze feet tiH. The orator unbuttoned his coat, cleared his throat, wiped his nose, and began: " Our üresides ! How many - ah, how - how many - ah - how, ah - " He was stuck. It was plain to be seen that he was embnrrassed, but a slight shuffling of feet encouraged him to go ahead: "Our firesides! How many tender memories - howmany - how tender- how firesides - how, ah - " He tied up to the same post agam. His knees shook, his chin trembled, and, when Samuel Shin snorted out, the briiliant Bald Eagle flopped his wings and feil into a chair. It was a dead failure. Every one realized it and feit sorry. Brother Gardner escorted him back to the ante-room, wuere the frost was an inch thick on the base-boards, and, upon returning, said: "Gem'len, I hez bin boardm an lodgin' dat Bald Eagle for de last five days a-purpus to heah dat speech. It may be dat he was seized wid what dey cali stage-fright, an' it may be dat ho donn' know nuffin' 'bout de trade of oratory. In any case, let dis be a warnin' to all ob us never to bite off more meat ilan we kin chaw up widout onhingin' de