ent at
the alacrity of his townsmen. Consetena Tate had unwittingly
stumbled upon a solution of that "surplus" difficulty. He wasn't
thinking of the surplus. He was too utterly impractical for that.
He was a tall, gangling, effeminate, romantic, middle-aged man whom
his parents still supported and viewed with deference as a superior
personality. He was Smyrna's only literary character.

He made golden weddings gay with lengthy epics that detailed the
lives of the celebrants; he brought the dubious cheer of his verses
to house-warmings, church sociables, and other occasions when Smyrna
found itself in gregarious mood; he soothed the feelings of mourners
by obituary lines that appeared in print in the county paper when
the mourners ordered enough extra copies to make it worth the
editor's while. Added to this literary gift was an artistic one.
Consetena had painted half a dozen pictures that were displayed every
year at the annual show of the Smyrna Agricultural Fair and Gents'
Driving Association; therefore, admiring relatives accepted Mr.
Tate as a genius, and treated him as such with the confident
prediction that some day the outside world would know him and
appreciate him.

A flicker of this coming fame seemed to dance on Consetena's polished
brow when he wrote a piece for the county paper, heralding the fact
that Smyrna was one hundred years old that year.

Mr. Tate, having plenty of leisure to meditate on those matters, had
thought of this fact before any one else in town remembered it. He
wrote another article urging that the town fittingly celebrate the
event. The Women's Temperance Workers discussed the matter and
concurred. It would give them an opportunity to have a tent-sale of
food and fancy-work, and clear an honest penny.

The three churches in town came into the project heartily. They would
"dinner" hungry strangers in the vestries, and also turn an honest
penny. The Smyrna Ancient and Honorable Firemen's Association, Hiram
Look foreman, was very enthusiastic. A celebration would afford
opportunity to parade and hold a muster.

The three uniformed secret societies in town, having an ever-lurking
zest for public exhibition behind a brass-band, canvassed the
prospect delightedly. The trustees of the Agricultural Fair and
Gents' Driving Association could see a most admirable opening for
a June horse-trot.

In fact, with those inducements and with motives regarding the
"surplus" spurring them on secre