rged into the main
office, and came forward to the desk.
"Read that, then," answered Mr. Stephens, tossing him the Albany letter.
"A temperance lecture, eh, before the Association; that's good," said
Theodore, running his eye rapidly over the few lines of writing. "Mr.
Ryan would be a capital man to send them. Don't you think so, sir? But
then it's in December. Ryan will not have returned from Chicago by that
time, I fear; but then there's Mr. Williams, he is a fine speaker and--"
"I tell you I've found a man," interrupted Mr. Stephens; "the very man.
Theodore, you must deliver that temperance lecture yourself."
"What a preposterous idea!" And before Theodore proceeded further he
gave himself up to a burst of merriment; then he added: "I thought you a
wiser man than that, sir. Why, I have never peeped in public."
"Don't you take part in the Wednesday meetings every evening, and lead
three out of four of the Saturday evening ones, and speak in the Young
Men's Association meetings every month?"
"Yes, sir, certainly; but those are religious meetings, entirely
different matters, and I--why, Mr. Stephens, I never thought of such a
thing!"
"I have often. I tell you, Theodore, you have talents in that direction.
You think and feel deeply on this matter of intemperance. If you don't
understand it thoroughly in all its bearings, I'm sure I don't know who
does, and you speak fluently and logically on any subject. Of course
there must be a first time, and Albany is as good a place as any. This
old friend of mine who has written for a speaker, will treat you like a
prince, and there is plenty of time for preparation; the meeting is not
until the 22d of December, and this is only October. My heart is very
much set on this, my boy."
But Theodore could not do much besides laugh; he burst into another
merry peal as he said:
"My dear sir, I _can't_ jump into the person of a full-fledged orator in
a month, not even to please _you_."
"I'll send in your name and acceptance," was Mr. Stephens' positive
answer. "There is no reason why you should grow into the character of a
quiet, rusty merchant like myself. I mean to send you adrift now and
then. Besides, you owe it to the cause, I tell you; you could do
incalculable good in that way."
But Theodore was not to be persuaded. The most that Mr. Stephens could
win from him was permission to delay answering the letter a few days,
and the promise that meantime he would make
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