o collect his senses, and was
about to utter the familiar words, "We have with us tonight," when they
were taken out of his mouth--taken out of his mouth by one who had in all
conscience stolen enough thunder for one man,--Mr. Gamaliel Ives.

"Mr. Chairman," said Mr. Ives, taking a slight dropping of the judge's
lower jaw for recognition, "and ladies and gentlemen of Brampton. It is
our great good fortune to have with us to-night, most unexpectedly, one
of whom Brampton is, and for many years has been, justly proud."
(Cheers.) "One whose career Brampton has followed with a mother's eyes
and with a mother's heart. One who has chosen a broader field for the
exercise of those great powers with which Nature endowed her than
Brampton could give. One who has taken her place among the luminaries of
literature of her time." (Cheers.) "One who has done more than any other
woman of her generation toward the uplifting of the sex which she
honors." (Cheers and clapping of hands.) "And one who, though her lot has
fallen among the great, has not forgotten the home of her childhood. For
has she not written those beautiful lines which we all know by heart?

'Ah, Coniston! Thy lordly form I see
Before mine eyes in exile drear.'

"Mr. Chairman and fellow-townsmen and women, I have the extreme honor of
introducing to you one whom we all love and revere, the author of the
'Hymn to Coniston,' the editor of the Woman's Hour, Miss Lucretia
Penniman.'" (Loud and long-continued applause.)

Well might Brampton be proud, too, of Gamaliel Ives, president of its
literary club, who could make such a speech as this on such short notice.
If the truth be told, the literary club had sent Miss Lucretia no less
than seven invitations, and this was the speech Mr. Ives had intended to
make on those seven occasions. It was unquestionably a neat speech, and
Judge Graves or no other chairman should cheat him out of making it. Mr.
Ives, with a wave of his hand toward the celebrity, sat down by no means
dissatisfied with himself. What did he care how the judge glared. He did
not see how stiffly Miss Lucretia sat in her chair. She could not take
him on her knee then, but she would have liked to.

Miss Lucretia rose, and stood quite as stiffly as she had sat, and the
judge rose, too. He was very angry, but this was not the time to get even
with Mr. Ives. As it turned out, he did not need to bother about getting
even.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said h