The Pathos Of Applause

The greeting of the company throughout Was like a jubilee,--the children's shout And fusillading hand-claps, with great guns And detonations of the older ones, Raged to such tumult of tempestuous joy, It even more alarmed than pleased the boy; Till, with a sudden twitching lip, he slid Down to the floor and dodged across and hid His face against his mother as she raised Him to the shelter of her heart, and praised His story in low whisperings, and smoothed The 'amber-colored hair,' and kissed, and soothed And lulled him back to sweet tranquillity-- 'And 'ats a sign 'at you're the Ma fer me!' He lisped, with gurgling ecstasy, and drew Her closer, with shut eyes; and feeling, too, If he could only _purr_ now like a cat, He would undoubtedly be doing that! 'And now'--the serious host said, lifting there A hand entreating silence;--'now, aware Of the good promise of our Traveler guest To add some story with and for the rest, I think I favor you, and him as well, Asking a story I have heard him tell, And know its truth,in each minute detail:' Then leaning on his guest's chair, with a hale Hand-pat by way of full indorsement, he Said, 'Yes--the Free-Slave story--certainly.' The old man, with his waddy notebook out, And glittering spectacles, glanced round about The expectant circle, and still firmer drew His hat on, with a nervous cough or two: And, save at times the big hard words, and tone Of gathering passion--all the speaker's own,-- The tale that set each childish heart astir Was thus told by 'The Noted Traveler.'