or instance--a stroke ob de pen,
de mighty pen, de clothes is on de way. I'se done."

Mr. Newsome said: "Wid all due 'spect to de learned gemman dat's jus'
spoke, we mus' all agree dat for smoovin' tings off an' a-levelin'
tings down, dere's notting equals de swoard."

Mr. Hunnicut said: "I agrees entirely wid Mr. Newsome; an' in answer
to what Dr. Crane says, I would jess ask what's de use ob drawin' a
check unless you's got de money in de bank, or a-drawin' de order on
de store unless de store truss you? S'pose de store do truss, ain't
it easier to sen' a boy as to write a order? If you got no boy handy,
telegraf. No use for a pen--not a bit. Who ebber heard of Mr. Hill's
pen? Nobody, saar. But his swoard, saar--de swoard ob ole Bunker Hill,
saar--is known to ebbery chile in de lan'. If it hadden been for de
swoard ob ole Bunker Hill, saar, whaar'd we niggers be to-night,
saar? whaar, saar? Not hyar, saar. In Georgia, saar, or wuss, saar. No
cullud man, saar, should ebber go back, saar, on de swoard, saar."

Mr. Hunnicut's remarks seemed to carry a good deal of weight with the
audience. After speeches by a number of others, the subject was handed
over to the "committee," who carried it out and "sot on it." In due
time they returned with the followin' decision:

"De committee decide dat de swoard has de most pints an' de best
backin', an' dat de pen is de most beneficial, an' dat de whole ting
is about a stan'-off."

JUVENILE PUGILISTS.

S.C. CLEMENS.

"Yes, I've had a good many fights in my time," said old John Parky,
tenderly manipulating his dismantled nose, "and it's kind of queer,
too, for when I was a boy the old man was always telling me better. He
was a good man and hated fighting. When I would come home with my nose
bleeding or with my face scratched up, he used to call me out in the
woodshed, and in a sorrowful and discouraged way say, 'So, Johnny,
you've had another fight, hey? How many times have I got to tell
ye how disgraceful and wicked it is for boys to fight? It was only
yesterday that I talked to you an hour about the sin of fighting, and
here you've been at it again. Who was it with this time? _With Tommy
Kelly, hey?_ Don't you know any better than to fight a boy that weighs
twenty pounds more than you do, besides being two years older? Ain't
you got a spark of sense about ye? I can see plainly that you are
determined to break your poor father's heart by your reckless conduct.
What a