call great people, but, thank God, none
of us have ever been in the penitentiary,''
and he laughed loudly, thinking that he
had scored a great and jolly point. The
two young men looked exceedingly grave
and Uncle Tommie panic-stricken. He
plucked the Hon. Sam by the sleeve and
led him aside:

``I reckon you made a leetle mistake
thar. Them two fellers' daddy died in the
penitentiary last spring.'' The Hon. Sam
whistled mournfully, but he looked game
enough when his opponent rose to speak
--Uncle Josh Barton, who had short,
thick, upright hair, little sharp eyes, and a
rasping voice. Uncle Josh wasted no time:

``Feller-citizens,'' he shouted, ``this
man is a lawyer--he's a corporation
lawyer''; the fearful name--pronounced
``lie-yer''--rang through the crowd like a
trumpet, and like lightning the Hon. Sam
was on his feet.

``The man who says that is a liar,'' he
said calmly, `` and I demand your authority
for the statement. If you won't give
it--I shall hold you personally responsible,
sir.''