Authors who have added the of elocution to the weakness of dialect verse-making, are often at a loss for a sympathetic audience. Whilst it is true that literary people are apt to bear with a good deal of patience the mutually offered inflictions incident to meeting one another, they draw the line at dialect recitations; and, as a rule, stubbornly refuse to be bored with a fantastic rendition of “When Johnny got by a mule,” or “Livery-stable Bob,” or “Samantha’s Courtin’,” or “Over the to the Pest-house,” no matter how dear a friend may offer the . Circumstances alter cases, however, and although neither Carleton, nor Riley, nor yet Burdette, nor Bill Nye (those really and wholly humorists), had come to Hotel Helicon, there was a certain relief for those of the guests who had not joined the luckless , in hearing Miss Amelia Lotus Nebeker recite a long poem written in New .  
Miss Nebeker was very hard of hearing, almost stone deaf, indeed, which affliction lent a pathetic effect even to her humor. She was rather , decidedly short, and had a way of making faces with a view to adding comicality to certain turns of her New Jersey phraseology, and yet she was somewhat of a bore at times. Possibly she wished to read too often and sometimes upon very unsuitable occasions. It was Mrs. Bridges who once said that, if the minister at a funeral should ask some one to say a few appropriate words, Miss Nebeker, if present, would immediately clear her throat and begin reciting “A Jerseyman’s Jewsharp.” “And if she once got started you’d never be able to stop her, for she’s as deaf as an .”
 
It was during the rainstorm, while those of the guests who had not gone to the hermit’s hut with Cattleton, were in the cool and of the hotel, that something was said about Charles Dickens reading from his own works. Strangely enough, although the remark was uttered in a low key and at some distance from Miss Nebeker, she responded at once with an offer to give them a new of The Jerseyman’s Jewsharp. Lucas, the historian, objected vigorously, but she insisted upon interpreting his words and gestures as applause of her proposition. She arose while he was saying:
 
“Oh now, that’s too much, we’re tired of the jangling of that old ; give us a rest!”
 
This unexpected and surprising slang from so grave and a man set everybody to laughing. Miss Nebeker bowed in smiling[120] acknowledgement of what appeared to her to be a flattering of her humor, and taking her manuscript from some hiding-place in her drapery, made a and began to read. Mrs. Philpot’s cat, in the absence of its mistress, had taken up with the elocutionist and now came to rub and purr around her feet while she recited. This was a small matter, but in school or church or lecture-hall, small matters attract attention. The fact that the cat now and again mewed set some of the audience to smiling and even to laughing.
 
Such apparent approval of her new rendition thrilled Miss Nebeker to her heart’s core. Her voice deepened, her caught the spirit of her mood, and she read wildly well.
 
Every one who has even a smattering of the patois current in New Jersey, will understand how effective it might be made in the larynx of a cunning elocutionist; and then whoever has had the delicious experience of hearing a genuine Jerseyman play on the jewsharp will naturally jump to a correct conclusion concerning the of the subject which Miss Nebeker had in hand. She felt its influence and threw all her power into it. Heavy as she was, she arose on her tip-toes at the turning point of the story and gesticulated .
 
The cat, taken by surprise, leaped aside a pace or two and glared in a half-frightened way, with each separate hair on its tail set stiffly. Of course there was more laughter which the reader took as applause.
 
 
“A of cats!” exclaimed the historian. “A brace of cats!”
 
Nobody knew what he meant, but the laughing increased, simply for the reason that there was nothing to laugh at.
 
Discovering pretty soon that Miss Nebeker really meant no harm by her manœuvres, the cat went back to rub and purr at her feet. Then Miss Nebeker let down her heel on the cat’s tail, at the same time beginning with the pathetic part of The Jerseyman’s Jewsharp.
 
The unearthly squall that poor puss gave was wholly lost on the excited elocutionist, but it quite upset the audience, who, not wishing to appear rude, used their handkerchiefs freely.
 
Miss Nebeker paused to give full effect to a line.
 
The cat and rolled and clawed the air and like a lost spirit in its vain endeavor to free its tail;............