rs her face with her apron an' says she, "There am none left,
my child."

'An' bime bye the child comes agin' an' holds up its poor little han's
an' says: "Ma! please gi' me a piece O' cake."

'An' she goes an' looks out O' the winder, er mebbe pokes the fire, an'
says: "There am' none left, my child."

'An' bime bye it comes agin' an' it says: "Please gi' me a little piece
O' pie."

'An' she mebbe flops into a chair an' says, sobbin', "There ain' none
left, my child."

'No pie! Now, Mr Chairman!' exclaimed the orator, as he lifted both
hands high above his head, 'If this ain't misery, in God's name, what is
it?

'Years ago, when I was a young man, Mr President, I went to a dance one
night at the village of Migleyville. I got a toothache, an' the Devil
tempted me with whiskey, an' I tuk one glass an' then another an' purty
soon I began t' thank I was a mighty hefty sort of a character, I did,
an' I stud on a corner an' stumped everybody t' fight with me, an'
bime bye an accomanodatin' kind of a chap come along, an' that's all I
remember O' what happened. When I come to, my coat tails had been tore
off, I'd lost one leg O' my trousers, a bran new silver watch, tew
dollars in money, an a pair O' spectacles. When I stud up an' tried t'
realise what hed happened I felt jes' like a blind rooster with only one
leg an' no tail feathers.'

A roar of laughter followed these frank remarks of Mr Tupper and broke
into a storm of merriment when Uncle Eb rose and said:

'Mr President, I hope you see that the misfortunes of our friend was due
t' war, an' not to intemperance.'

Mr Tupper was unhorsed. For some minutes he stood helpless or shaking
with the emotion that possessed all. Then he finished lamely and sat
down.

The narrowness of the man that saw so much where there was so little
in his own experience and in the trivial events of his own township was
what I now recognise as most valuable to the purpose of this history.
It was a narrowness that covered a multitude of people in St Lawrence
county in those days.

Jed Feary was greeted with applause and then by respectful silence when
he rose to speak. The fame of his verse and his learning had gone far
beyond the narrow boundaries of the township in which he lived. It was
the biggest thing in the county. Many a poor sinner who had gone out of
Faraway to his long home got his first praise in the obituary poem by
Jed Feary. These tributes were generally published in