's voice!"

The great buzzing that was going on up in the loft was plainly audible
below. Now and again Uncle Hannibal cocked his ear to listen, and once
he cried, "The Egyptians are rallying! We are going to have a hard fight
with them this year. Don't let them rob us!"

When the old Squire introduced the next speaker, Judge Peters, Senator
Hamlin remarked that Peters was a hard stinger himself, as many a
criminal had learned to his cost. And when the Hon. Hiram Bliss was
introduced, Uncle Hannibal cut in with the remark that we need make no
mistake on account of Mr. Bliss's name, for when he got after the
Egyptians they would be in anything except a blissful state of mind. He
also jocosely bade Mr. Bliss not to talk too long.

"We must get that honey," he said, laughing heartily. "I'd much rather
have some honey than hear one of your old dry speeches!"

During Mr. Bliss's address we boys were wondering whether Senator Hamlin
really intended to try to get that honey. We were inclined to think that
he had merely been joking; but Mr. Bliss had no sooner sat down than
Uncle Hannibal was on his feet.

"Now for that honey!" he cried with twinkling eyes. "I feel sure there's
enough up there for every one to have a bite."

"How are you going to get it?" some one said.

"Why, go right up and take it!" he exclaimed. "You know, my friends, that
all through the Civil War I had the misfortune to be Vice-President,
which is about the most useless, sit-still-and-do-nothing office in
this country. All those four years I wanted to go to the front and do
something. I wanted to be a general or a private with a gun. The war is
past, thank God, but I haven't got over that feeling yet, and now I want
to lead an attack on those Egyptians! Back there over the singers'
gallery I think I see a scuttle that leads up into the loft. Come on,
boys, and fetch a bucket or two, or some baskets. Let's storm the fort!"

The crowd was laughing now, and men were shouting advice of all sorts.
Uncle Hannibal was already on his way to the singers' gallery, and
Addison, hastily thrusting the smoker into my hands, got down from the
ladder and ran to help our distinguished visitor. Others followed them
up the back stairs to the gallery; but the old Squire, seeing what was
likely to happen, came to my assistance on the ladder. Taking the smoker
into his own hands, he worked it vigorously in order to send as much
smoke as possible up into the loft.

Bu