about ’em. We Dunderbunk boys give ’em to you, one for all, and hope you’ll like ’em and beat the world skating, as you do in all the things we’ve knowed you try.
“Now, boys,” Bill perorated, “before I retire to the shades of private life, I motion we give Three Cheers — regular Toplifters — for Richard Wade!”
“Hurrah! Wade and Good Government!” “Hurrah! Wade and Prosperity!” “Hurrah! Wade and the Women’s Tears Dry!”
Cheers like the shout of Achilles! Wielding sledges is good for the bellows, it appears. Toplifters! Why, the smoky black rafters overhead had to tug hard to hold the roof on. Hurrah! From every comer of the vast building came back rattling echoes. The Works, the machinery, the furnaces, the stuff, all had their voice to add to the verdict.
Magnificent music! and our Anglo-Saxon is the only race in the world civilized enough to join in singing it. We are the only hurrahing people, — the only brood hatched in a “Hurrah’s nest.”
Silence restored, the Chairman, prompted by Perry, said, “Gentlemen, Mr. Wade has the floor for a few remarks.”
Of course Wade had to speak, and did. He would not have been an American in America else. But his heart was too full to say more than a few hearty and earnest words of good feeling.
“Now, men,” he closed, “I want to get away
