uilt." He seemed to be
at loss what to say next, and, leaning over, pretended to whisper to
Grant; then, as if he had obtained the information he wanted, he
suddenly straightened up and poured out the old-fashioned eulogy on
Grant's achievements, adding, in an aside, as he finished:

"I nearly forgot that part of my speech," which evoked roars of
laughter from the assembly and a grim smile from Grant. He spoke of
Grant as being out of public employment, with private opportunities
closed against him, and added, "But your country will reward you,
never fear."

Then he closed:

When Wellington won Waterloo, a battle about on a level with any one
of a dozen of your victories, sordid England tried to pay him for
that service with wealth and grandeurs. She made him a duke and
gave him $4,000,000. If you had done and suffered for any other
country what you have done and suffered for your own you would have
been affronted in the same sordid way. But, thank God! this vast
and rich and mighty republic is imbued to the core with a delicacy
which will forever preserve her from so degrading you.

Your country loves you--your country's proud of you--your country is
grateful to you. Her applauses, which have been many, thundering in
your ears all these weeks and months, will never cease while the
flag you saved continues to wave.

Your country stands ready from this day forth to testify her
measureless love and pride and gratitude toward you in every
conceivable--inexpensive way. Welcome to Hartford, great soldier,
honored statesman, unselfish citizen.

Grant's grim smile showed itself more than once during the speech, and
when Clemens reached the sentence that spoke of his country rewarding him
in "every conceivable--inexpensive way" his composure broke up completely
and he "nearly laughed his entire head off," according to later
testimony, while the spectators shouted their approval.

Grant's son, Col. Fred Grant,--[Maj.-Gen'l, U. S. Army, 1906. Died
April, 1912.]--dined at the Clemens home that night, and Rev. Joseph
Twichell and Henry C. Robinson. Twichell's invitation was in the form
of a telegram. It said:

I want you to dine with us Saturday half past five and meet Col.
Fred Grant. No ceremony. Wear the same shirt you always wear.

The campaign was at its height now, and on the evening of October 26th
there was