There was an execution in Ohio one day, and the Sheriff, before
placing the rope round the murderer's neck, asked him if he had
any remarks to make?

"If he hasn't," said a well-known local orator, pushing his
way rapidly through the dense crowd to the gallows--"if our
ill-starred feller-citizen don't feel inclined to make a speech
and is in no hurry, I should like to avail myself of the present
occasion to make some remarks on the necessity of a new
protective tariff!"

X.--PETTINGILL'S FIREWORKS.

As I said in Chapter VIII., there was an oration. There were
also processions, and guns, and banners.

"This evening," said the chairman of the committee of
arrangements, "this evening, fellow-citizens, there will be a
grand display of fireworks on the village green, superintended by
the inventor and manufacturer, our public-spirited townsman, Mr.
Reuben Pettingill."

Night closed in, and an immense concourse of people gathered on
the village green.

On a raised platform, amidst his fireworks, stood Pettingill.

He felt that the great hour of his life had come, and, in a firm,
clear voice, he said: