“What was the question fer debate?” asked the School Teacher.

“Resawlved that the Negro is more worthy o’ government support than the Indian,” replied the Miller.

“And the decision?”

“One jedge voted fer the affirmative an’ one fer the negative.”

“And the third?”

“That’s where the trouble come. Ye see, Theophilus Bones was the third jedge, an’ he got up an’ sayd that after hearin’ an’ weighin’ all the argyments o’ the debaters he hed to concide that neither the Negro nor the Indian was worthy.”

“Deadlocked!” cried the pedagogue, bringing his chair down on all four legs with a crash, waving his arms and snapping his fingers. “Deadlocked, sure. What did ye do?”

“See here,” interrupted the Chronic Loafer from his perch on a sugar barrel, “I can’t see that it makes any diff’rence what they done.[150] S’posin’ the Airy View Liter’ry Society is deadlocked. How’s the poor Injun goin’ to suffer any more by it?”

“But did you uns ever see sech dum jedges?” asked the Miller appealingly. “I was on the negative.”

“The point is this,” said the Teacher, shaking his cigar at the occupant of the barrel. “Here is a modern liter’ry society, whose main purpose is trainin’ its members in the art of debate. An important question is put before this same society for formal discussion, and yet these self-same trained debaters makes their points so badly that one o’ the jedges can’t decide on the merits o’ the question.”

“It ain’t so bad at all,” the Tinsmith exclaimed. “I once heard Aleck Bolum on that wery question. He argyed both affirmative an’ negative. All three o’ the jedges was deadlocked. None of ’em could concide.”

“Bolum must ’a’ ben a wonderful talker,” the Loafer said.

“Wonderful? Well, I guesst he was. Why, it was his debatin’ broke up the Kishikoquillas Liter’ry Society. An’ that was a flourishin’ organization, too. Me an’ my old frien’ Perry Muthersbaugh started it together. After he went west Andrew Magill tuk a holt of it. He run it tell Aleck Bolum stepped in. Then it was a tug-o-war.

[151]

“Bolum was a livin’ Roberts-rules-of-order. He was a walkin’ encyclopedy of information. He knowd it an’ never lost no opportunity of showin’ it. Kishikoquillas school-house was his principal place fer exhibitin’. From the time Andrew Magill’s gavel fell on Friday night tell a motion was made to adjourn, Aleck was on his feet. Ef he wasn’t gittin’ off a select readin’ or a recytation or debatin’, he was risin’ to pints of order, appealin’ from the decision o’ the chair, callin’ fer divisions or movin’ we proceed to new business. Ye couldn’t git any fresh wood put in the stove ’thout hevin’ him move the ’pointment of a committee to do it. Ef a lamp burned low he’d want to hev it referred to the committee on lights. He even tried to git the recordin’ seckertary impeached because she kep’ the minutes in lead-pencil.”

“What fer a lookin’ felly was this Aleck Bolum?” asked the Chronic Loafer.

“He was a thin, leetle man, with a clean-shaved, hatchet face, an’ a bald spot on the top o’ his head over which he plastered a few skein o’ lemon-colored hair.”

“An’ he wore a Prince Al-bert coat?” inquired the Loafer anxiously.

“Yes, a shiny black un. An’ he’d stand up an’ th’ow out his chist.”

“Why, that’s where half the trouble come,” interrupted the Loafer. “Don’t you know that ef[152] ye put a Prince Al-bert coat on a clothes-horse, it’ll stan’ right up an’ begin argyin’ with ye?”

“My dear felly,” replied the Tinsmith, “Aleck Bolum ’ud ’a’ argyed in his grave clothes. They wasn’t no stoppin’ him. We thot mebbe we could quiet him be givin’ him an office, so we ’lected him correspondin’ seckertary, cal’latin’ he’d hev nawthin’ to do an’ ’ud be satisfied with the honor. We’d complete misjedged him. He got up a debate be correspondence with a liter’ry society out in Kansas an’ tuk up half our evenin’s readin’ reports on it.

“So Aleck Bolum didn’t give Andrew Magill much chancet, even tho’ he was president. It went hard with Andrew, too, fer he liked to fill in all the cracks in the meetin’ hisself, an’ objected to havin’ Aleck bobbin’ up with pints of order every time he opened his mouth. But fer my part I allus preferred Bolum to Magill. Bolum wasn’t musical. Magill was. ’Henever one o’ the reg’lar men on the progrim ’ud fail to be on hand an’ he could head Aleck off, Andrew ’ud git up an’ say, ‘Mister So-an’-so, who hed the ess’y fer the evenin’, bein’ absent, the chair has consented to fill in the interval be singin’ a solo.’ Or the chair ’ud sing a duet with the seckertary; or the chair ’ud sing an anthem ’sisted be the society quartette. Then he’d stand up with his music marks an’ start away on twenty verses about Mother or Alice.

[153]

“Things kept gittin’ worse an’ worse. They final come to a head one night ’hen Aleck Bolum rose to a pint of order durin’ one of Andrew’s highest notes. Magill hed to stop singin’ an’ ast him to state his pint. Then Aleck moved the solo be the president be taken up under onfinished business. Andrew jest choked.

“‘Hen the president got th’oo chokin’, we tuk up the debate. Everything was subdued like. Andrew set on the platform wery quiet an’ solemn. The debaters didn’t put no heart in their work fer they was busy keepin’ one eye on him an’ the other on Bolum. Every one was kind o’ nervous an’ hushed—that is, every one ’cept Aleck. He argyed that the pen was mightier then the sword in the reg’lar debate. ’Hen the argyment was th’owed open to all he got up agin an’ proved that the sword was mightier then the pen.

“We got th’oo with the debate an’ nawthin’ hed happened. Then Andrew Magill rose to give out the progrim fer the next meetin’. He looked solemn like at his paper a minute; then gazed ’round the room. Ye could ’a’ heard a pin drop.

“‘Several o’ our members,’ sais he, ‘complains that they ain’t hed no opportunity to be heard afore this society. This progrim is got up especial to satisfy these gentlemen.’

“An’ the progrim fer the follyin’ Friday, which he read out, run like this: ‘Readin’ o’ the Scriptur’[154] be the president; roll call; select readin’, Mr. Aleck Bolum; recytation, Mr. Aleck Bolum; extemporaneous oration, Mr. Aleck Bolum; ess’y, The True Patriot, Mr. Aleck Bolum; debate, Resawlved that works o’ natur’ is more beautiful then works o’ art—affirmative, Mr. Aleck Bo............