It was a cinch Horoscope, for the Begetters were a successful
Auctioneer and a Poetess of local repute.

The Child was christened Sylvester, in anticipation of his Future
Greatness.

Several years later, when he rebelled against going to the Barber Shop
and began to speak Pieces on the slightest provocation, the Parents
rejoiced over these budding symptoms of Statesmanship and bought him a
Drum.

At school he was a Dummy in Mathematics and a Lummox when it came to
Spelling Down, but every Friday afternoon he was out in the lead,
wearing Bells.

Before he acquired a Vocabulary or accumulated Data, he got by on his
Nerve. In later years he never forgot that Facts are non-essential
if the Vocal Cords are in tune.

When the Pupils tacked the old standby, "Resolved, that Education is
better than Riches," he could tremolo on the Affirmative one week and
then reverberate for the Negative one week later, never doubting his
own Sincerity at any stage of the Game.

The grinding classmates who had secured the mark of A in Geometry and
Rhetoric were not in the running on Commencement Day.

Our Hero got his Diploma on a Fluke, but when he appeared on the
Rostrum between an Oleander and the Members of the Board, with Goose-
Goose on the Aureole, the new Store Suit garnished with a leaf of
Geranium and a yellow Rose-Bud, and the Gates Ajar Collar lashed fast
with his future Trade-Mark: viz., a White Bow Tie--he had all the
Book Worms crushed under his Heel.

He pulled out the stop marked "Vox Humana" and begged his Hearers to
lift the sword of Justice and with it smite the Deluge of Organized
Wealth which was crouched and ready to spring upon the Common People.
In pleading the cause of Labor, he spoke as an expert, for once he had
strung a Clothes-Line for his Mother.

He got the biggest Hand of any one at the Exercises. After denouncing
the predaceous Interests he relapsed into an attitude of Meditation,
with the Chin on the starched Front, very much like a Steel Engraving
of Daniel Webster.

The enthralled Townsmen, seeing him thus, with the Right Hand buried in
the Sack Suit and the raven Mop projecting in the rear, allowed that
there was nothing to it. He was a Genius and billed through for the
Legislature.

Some Boys have to go to College to get a Shellac Finish, but Sylvester
already had the Dark Clothes and the Corrugated Brow and a voice like
a Tuba, so, to complete his Equipment, he merely had to sit tilted