was an exquisite Gothic pulpit, which on occasions
like the present was used for a rostrum. Everywhere else reigned
silence and desolation.

The nave was filled by a motley mass. The chieftains of progress, some
elegantly dressed, others exhibiting frivolous miens and huge beards,
crowded upon the elevation of the chancel. All the candidates for the
legislature were present, not for the purpose of proving their
qualifications for the office--progress never troubled itself about
those--but to air their views on the subject of education. There were
speakers on hand of acknowledged ability in the discussion of the
doctrines of progress, who were to lay the result of their
investigations before the people.

Seraphia also noted some anxious faces in the crowd. They were
citizens, whose sons were alarmed at the thought of yielding up the
training of their children into the hands of infidelity. And near the
pulpit stood two priests, irreverently crowded against the wall,
targets for the scornful pleasantries of the wits of the mob. Leader
Schwefel was voted into the chair by acclamation. He thanked the
assembly in a short speech for the honor conferred, and then announced
that Mr. Till, member of the former assembly, would address the
meeting. Amid murmurs of expectation a short, fat gentleman climbed
into the pulpit. First a red face with a copper-tipped nose bobbed
above the ledge of the pulpit, next came a pair of broad shoulders,
upon which a huge head rested without the intermediary of a neck,
two puffy hands were laid upon the desk, and the commencement of a
well-rounded pauch could just be detected by the eye. Mr. Till, taking
two handfuls of his shaggy beard, drew them slowly through his fingers,
looked composedly upon the audience, and breathed hotly through mouth
and nostrils.

"Gentlemen," he began, with a voice that struggled out from a mass of
flesh and fat, "I am not given to many words, you know. What need is
there of many words and long speeches? We know what we want, and what
we want we will have in spite of the machinations of Jesuits and the
whinings of an ultramontane horde. You all know how I acquitted myself
at the last legislature, and if you will again favor me with your
suffrages, I will endeavor once more to give satisfaction. You know my
record, and I shall remain staunch to the last."

Cries of "Good!" from various directions.

"Gentlemen! if you know my record, you must also be aware that I