must be mistaken about that being Washington's Address, as
he had certainly read it in the Bible. The honorable gentleman then
turned his book over so that he could read the title, and said that he
had, indeed, made a slight mistake about the volume. He would defer
reading the Address for the present, and begged leave to introduce Mr.
John Smith, the Hon. Ferdinand De Percy having failed to be present.

Mr. Smith said that it was the proudest moment of his life, and he felt
it an honor to be there. They had met together to denounce and spit
upon an astounding Administration, under whose tyrannical sway no man
was allowed to say one word against it. A fellow-citizen had been
arrested in Ohio upon the miserable charge of advocating peace, when he
was really disturbing the peace all he could. How long were such
outrages to be endured? He advised his hearers to strictly honor the
laws; but he would also have them go home, organize into regiments,
purchase artillery, procure iron-clads, and destroy every man who dared
to speak in favor of an Administration under which the boldest man
dared not express his sentiments. He would have them do all this
peaceably; but he would have them do it. (Great enthusiasm, and cries
of "Keep off my corns, durn ye!")

As Chesterfield Mortimer, the celebrated Accomac patriot, was not able
to be present on this occasion, Mr. Jones was introduced, and made a
few sensible remarks. He said that he had always been a law-abiding
man, and would always advocate the strictest observance of the laws.
The peaceful people, he trusted, would all procure reliable muskets
and....

At this moment, my boy, the speaker suddenly stopped short; stared at a
white object which had just appeared fluttering down the street; and
then, dashing wildly from the platform, tore furiously in the direction
of said object, which appeared to be moving, followed spontaneously and
with frantic speed by his fellow-speakers and the entire meeting. I was
astounded; I was overwhelmed; for such a sudden breaking-up and
precipitate flight of a great indignation meeting was never witnessed
before. Quickly mounting the vacant rostrum, I drew my field-glass from
my pocket, and proceeded to scan the wonderful white object which had
produced such an electrical effect. It was moving on, as I fixed my
glass upon it, and I found it to be a new banner, born by a fat young
man in a white apron, and bearing the inscription:

BROOKSES