p,' he said, having reluctantly
come to the platform, 'and talent of the very highest order, no one can
deny who has ever attended a lyceum at the Howard schoolhouse. I see
evidences of talent in every face before me. And I wish to ask what are
the two great talents of the Yankee--talents that made our forefathers
famous the world over? I pause for an answer.'

He had once been a schoolmaster and that accounted for his didactic
style.

'What are the two great talents of the Yankee?' he repeated, his hands
clasped before him.

'Doughnuts an' pie,' said Uncle Be who sat in a far corner.

'No sir,' Mr Walker answered, 'there's some hev a talent fer sawin'
wood, but we don't count that. It's war an' speakin', they are the two
great talents of the Yankee. But his greatest talent is the gift o'
gab. Give him a chance t' talk it over with his enemy an' he'll lick 'im
without a fight. An' when his enemy is another Yankee--why, they both
git licked, jest as it was in the case of the man thet sold me lightnin'
rods. He was sorry he done it before I got through with him. If we did
not encourage this talent in our sons they would be talked to death by
our daughters. Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me pleasure t' say that
the best speakers in Faraway township have come here t' discuss the
important question:

'Resolved, that intemperance has caused more misery than war?

'I call upon Moses Tupper to open for the affirmative.'

Moses, as I have remarked, had a most unlovely face with a thin and
bristling growth of whiskers. In giving him features Nature had been
generous to a fault. He had a large red nose, and a mouth vastly too
big for any proper use. It was a mouth fashioned for odd sayings. He was
well to do and boasted often that he was a self-made man. Uncle Be used
to say that if Mose Tupper had had the 'makin' uv himself he'd oughter
done it more careful.'

I remember not much of the speech he made, but the picture of him, as
he rose on tiptoe and swung his arms like a man fighting bees, and his
drawling tones are as familiar as the things of yesterday.

'Gentlemen an' ladies,' said he presently, 'let me show you a pictur'.
It is the drunkard's child. It is hungry an' there ain't no food in its
home. The child is poorer'n a straw-fed hoss. 'Tain't hed a thing t' eat
since day before yistiddy. Pictur' it to yourselves as it comes cryin'
to its mother an' says:

'"Ma! Gi' me a piece o' bread an' butter."

'She cove