"Mr. Pate made an astonishing speech," said the Professor to Toney and Tom, the day after the trial; "such a speech as has been seldom listened to by any audience,—a speech that was unanswerable by argument."

"And Toney knew it," said Tom, "and did not attempt to answer it by argument."

"Toney," said the Professor, "was like a wild Indian, dodging around and aiming his arrows at Pate, who had come on the ground with a heavy piece of artillery."

"Why do you compare me to a savage?" said Toney.

"Because you use merciless weapons," said the Professor. "Civilized men do not employ the scalping-knife and tomahawk."

"Nor did I," said Toney.

"Figuratively and metaphorically speaking, you did," said the Professor. "You brought into the field of forensic controversy a most barbarous and cruel weapon."

"What was that?" asked Toney.

"Ridicule," said the Professor. "It may be termed the oratorical scalping-knife. Why, sir, Demosthenes, with all his thunder, would have been powerless against it. Now, M. T. Pate, though not equal to the great Athenian, is an eloquent man. He drew tears from Mr. Seddon, who wept profusely over the wrongs of Simon Rump, and his venerable wife, and innocent little ones. But of what avail is the most touching pathos and sublime eloquence when met by ridicule? Do you not recollect what the poet and philosopher Pope says on this subject?"

"I do not," said Toney.

"Let an ambassador," says he, "speak the best sense in the world and deport himself in the most graceful manner before a prince, yet if the tail of his shirt happen (as I have known it to happen to a very wise man) to hang out behind, more people will laugh at that than attend to the other."

"That is as true as a text from Holy Writ," said Tom Seddon.

"It is a truth, Mr. Seddon, by no means creditable to the good sense of mankind, as we have seen in the case of the learned, eloquent, but unlucky M. T. Pate," said the Professor. "Pate's unfortunate allusion to the prospective division of families, resulting from the construction of the canal, afforded an opportunity for ridicule, and the great beauty and eloquence of his speech were lost sight of the very moment the audience beheld Tony Belton's finger pointing to the visible protrusion of his nether garment."

"Pate rode away at a terrific speed," said Seddon. "I have not heard of him since. If he has unfortunately broken his neck, Toney Belton will be answerable for the awful catastrophe."

"No responsibility can possibly attach to me," said Toney. "You are entirely mistaken in reference to the cause of his abrupt departure. Mr. Pate had promised to make a speech in behalf of Simon Rump. He did make a speech, and then, looking at his watch, he hurried away; for he had more important business on hand than any which lawyers have to transact. He was to preside at a committee. The hour for its meeting had nearly arrived, and hence he was compelled to make a liberal use of whip and spur."

"A committee!" exclaimed Tom.

"What committee?" asked the Professor.

"A committee composed of several of the most distinguished members of the Mystic Order of Seven Sweethearts," said Toney.

"What is its object?" asked the Professor.

"A tournament," said Toney.

"A what?" exclaimed Seddon.

"A tournament," said Toney. "To M. T. Pate belongs the distinguished honor of being the originator of a tournament in this age and country."

"How did such an extraordinary idea ever enter his head?" said Seddon.

"Great men," said Toney, "are often led to important discoveries by certain phenomena, which, to ordinary minds, are devoid of significance. Suppose you, Tom Seddon, had been sitting under an apple-tree, instead of Newton, and an apple had fallen and hit you on the head; what would you have done?"

"Scratched my cocoanut," said Tom.

"In the situation supposed," said the Professor, "it is highly probable that Mr. Seddon would first have vigorously titillated the top of his head, and then picked up the pippin and devoured it."

"It was not so with the great Newton," said Toney. "The sudden shock which his cranium received awakened an idea, and that idea expanded into a magnificent system of philosophy. And so it was with M. T. Pate."

"Did Pate sit under an apple-tree?" asked Tom.

"No," said Toney; "it was a cherry-tree. He was seated on the greensward under its shade, when his attention was attracted to the curious pranks of a couple of urchins. They had paper caps on their heads with the tail-feathers of a rooster stuck in their crowns. Pate heard one of the little fellows say, 'I'll be Bonaparte,' and his companion immediately rejoined that he was Wellington. The illustrious Napoleon was armed with a bean-pole, and the Iron Duke held in his hand the fragment of a fishing-rod. After marching and countermarching, and performing many difficult evolutions, the martial enthusiasm of Napoleon finally rose to such a pitch that he could no longer restrain himself. As impetuously as when he was leading his valiant legions over the bridge of Lodi, he charged upon Wellington, and, before the latter could parry the thrust, inserted the end of the bean-pole in his mouth, to the no small damage of his ivory. The hero of Waterloo having his mouth thus unexpectedly opened, gave utterance to a cry which was, by no means, so warlike as might have been anticipated. It had the effect to bring a certain belligerent dame to the door, who had thus got an intimation that hostilities had actually commenced between Bonaparte and Wellington. She sallied forth, and seizing upon the illustrious Napoleon, she laid him over her lap, and gave him what, in the technical phraseology of the nursery, is termed a good spanking. Poor Bonaparte bellowed lustily under the operation, and as soon as he had escaped from the hands of his ruthless captor, went and sat on the sill of the door and sobbed sorrowfully over his disgrace. All his martial enthusiasm had been suddenly quenched. 'No sound could awake him to glory again,' and for the space of one whole hour he indignantly refused to eat even gingerbread."

"I can sympathize with poor Bonaparte," said the Professor, "for I was once the unhappy victim of a similar misfortune in days gone by, when I was not much taller than a gooseberry-bush. I had been diligently perusing that good old book, the Pilgrim's Progress, and under the delusion that I was the valiant Great-heart, I assaulted an urchin who was supposed to be Giant Despair. I overcame the giant, and was imprisoned in the pantry, and afterwards tried, and convicted, and sentenced to undergo the cruel ordeal of a tough twig for a forcible entry into sundry jars of jelly. But what impression did the fall of Napoleon make upon the mind of M. T. Pate?"

"While meditating upon this event, an idea entered his head, which ultimately led to an important discovery. His wonderful sagacity enabled him to perceive that if a little boy could be Bonaparte, a little man might impersonate any hero of whom history makes mention."

"Even Jack the Giant-killer," suggested Tom Seddon.

"If," said Toney, "the unlucky urchin, who had been spanked by his indignant mamma, could arm himself with a bean-pole, and assault Lord Wellington with such vigor and impetuosity, could not a number of delicate and dainty youths be mounted on diminutive horses, and represent Richard the Lion-hearted, or Ivanhoe, or any of the mail-covered barons whose valorous deeds are immortalized in the pages of Froissart or of Walter Scott?"

"Is it meant that the Dainty Adorer or the Winsome Wooer could do this?" asked Tom Seddon.

"So thought M. T. Pate," said Toney.

"What would be the effect of a moderate blow from the ponderous fist of one of the aforesaid barons on the head of little Love?" inquired Tom.

"Immediate work for the undertaker," answered the Professor.

"Or suppose," said Tom, "that Dove was spanked by Richard, as was the little boy by his mother?"

"He would be crushed like a pepper-corn pounded by a pestle in a mortar," remarked the Professor.

"And," said Seddon, "the immense load of iron and steel carried by one of the knights at the tournament of Ashby-de-la-Zouch, where three combatants were killed, one smothered in his armor, and thirty wounded, if put upon Bliss——"

"Would cause the dainty creature to think of Pelion piled upon Ossa," observed the Professor.

"But," said Toney, "Pate was well acquainted with the wonder-working powers of the imagination, and knew that with the aid of this faculty he could easily induce young maidens, who were diligent students of romance, to believe that the Noble Nonentity, the Dainty Adorer, and the Winsome Wooer, mounted on ponies, and flourishing long poles, were valorous knights, armed for the performance of doughty deeds; just as the unsophisticated birds are made to imagine that the effigies placed by a farmer around his cornfield are the dangerous and destructive bipeds in whose images they have been cunningly fashioned."

"You now perceive, Mr. Seddon," said the Professor, "in what various aspects the same subject will be contemplated by different minds. Mr. Pate is a man of an original and sublime genius, and entertains ideas which would never enter into either your head or mine."

"But," said Tom, "what did he do with his grand idea?"

"Having thoroughly elaborated it," said Toney, "he called a meeting of the Mystic Order of Seven Sweethearts and made known his important discovery. The announcement was received with acclamations of applause, and the projected tournament pronounced worthy of the illustrious founder of their noble order. A committee was appointed, composed of the Prince of Pretty Fellows, the Noble Nonentity, the Dainty Adorer, and the Winsome Wooer, with the Noble Grand Gander himself as chairman; and upon this dignified body was devolved the onerous duty of developing all the details of the intended tourney. Numerous meetings were held by the committee, and many discussions ensued. Books of chivalry and romance were referred to, and the Chronicles of Froissart diligently perused. But by far the highest authority on the subject was the novel of Ivanhoe, in which the most graphic and intelligible account of a tournament was to be found. But when Pate read to the committee Walter Scott's description of the passage of arms at Ashby——"

"I remember it well!" exclaimed Tom Seddon, enthusiastically. "How the knights met in the encounter,—how the lances were shivered, the powerful steeds thrown back on their haunches, and many combatants hurled from their saddles by the terrible shock,—how Richard assailed the gigantic Front de B[oe]uf, and struck down horse and rider at a single blow, and then, wresting the battle-axe from the hands of the bulky Athelstane, dashed him senseless to the ground! It is sublime! it is magnificent!"

"What effect did the reading of this description by Walter Scott, which has so aroused the enthusiasm of Mr. Seddon, produce on the committee?" asked the Professor.

"Every member of the committee turned pale," said Toney. "Bliss trembled and was silent; while Love loudly exclaimed that he would not take part in any such performance, and Dove said that indeed it was too dangerous."

"But the ultimate result?" said the Professor.

"The panic produced by the reading of this passage from Ivanhoe was so great," said Toney, "that it nearly caused an abandonment of their intention to hold a tournament. The committee adjourned to meet on the following day for further deliberation. M. T. Pate went home and passed a sleepless night in profound meditation."

"One might suppose," said the Professor, "that the activity of his mind would have enabled him to surmount the difficulty which had presented itself. Could he not recollect that in the encounter between Napoleon and Wellington, neither of them had used artillery or any of the deadly weapons employed in modern warfare? If these illustrious heroes could dispense with fire-arms, why could not Richard and Ivanhoe get along very well without their heavy defensive armor and ponderous swords and battle-axes?"

"That was precisely the conclusion arrived at by M. T. Pate in his nocturnal meditations," said Toney. "He perceived that the whole danger of a tournament might be avoided by mounting his knights on small horses, with chicken-feathers in their caps, and long poles in their hands; when, instead of charging at each other, they could, in succession, charge at a mark in the shape of a ring; and he who was the most expert in thrusting his pole through the ring, could be proclaimed the victorious champion, entitled to crown the Queen of Love and Beauty."

"It is to be hoped," said the Professor, "that this grand idea entered the mind of M. T. Pate cautiously and on tiptoe. If it rushed in unannounced, like a daring intruder, there was danger of its upsetting all the furniture, and disturbing him as much as was Archimedes when he leaped out of the bath exclaiming, 'Eureka! eureka!'"

"Pate jumped out of bed," said Toney, "and danced over the floor, exclaiming, 'I have got it! I have got it!' His old housekeeper, who had been fast asleep in an adjoining apartment, was aroused by these loud cries, and thinking that there were robbers in the house, ran to the window and commenced shrieking, 'Help! help! help! murder! murder! murder!' with the whole strength of her lungs."

"Now, here was a fuss in the family," said Seddon. "What did Pate do to quell this disturbance?"

"He called to her in loud and angry tones, and ordered her to cease her frightful outcries. But the more loudly he called, the more loudly the old woman bawled, and finally four or five neighbors came running to the house armed with axes and pitchforks. These men, hearing the cries of murder from the old woman, and Pate's angry voice in denunciation, under the impression that the latter had gone crazy and was about to commit a homicide, broke down the door, and, rushing in, seized him and threw him upon the floor, and bound him fast with the bedcords. The housekeeper, when she heard the men rushing into the house, was convinced that robbers had possession; and, in the utmost terror, the poor creature fled down a back stairway and out the door, and ran across a field until she entered a forest, where she fell down in a state of insensibility."

"But what did the men do with their prisoner?" said Seddon.

"Pate being bound with cords now conducted himself like a furious maniac. He raved, and swore, and kicked, and foamed at the mouth, and endeavored to bite his captors with his teeth. But he was held down on the floor by two stalwart farmers, while the others consulted together; and the unanimous opinion was that so dangerous and murderous a lunatic should be immediately confined in a hospital. A horse was harnessed to a cart, and they put Pate, securely bound with cords, in the bottom of the vehicle, and while one drove, the others walked alongside, with their axes and pitchforks on their shoulders, and thus conveyed him to a lunatic asylum situated a few miles from Mapleton."

"It is under the superintendence of Dr. Mowbray," said Seddon. "I know him well."

"Dr. Mowbray was awakened by the farmers loudly calling at the door. 'What do you want?' said he, putting his head out the window.

"'We've got a crazy man here,' said Farmer Brown, 'and want to get him off our hands. Come down, doctor, and take him in.'

"The doctor dressed himself and came down. 'Here he is,' said Farmer Jones. 'He is as mad as the moon can make a man!'

"'I am not mad! I am not mad!' exclaimed Pate, in the bottom of the cart.

"'He is talking poetry,' said Brown. 'I heard my little boy speak that at school.'

"'My men,' said the doctor, 'whom have you got here? Why, it is Mr. Pate! When did he go mad?'

"'I am not mad! I am not mad!' piteously exclaimed poor Pate.

"'Don't you hear that, doctor?' said Jones. 'He is as crazy as an old cow with a wolf in her back!'

"'Who sent him here?' asked the doctor.

"The farmers now told their story.

"'My men,' said the doctor, 'I fear that you have acted without sufficient authority. Let me talk to Mr. Pate.'

"After a conversation with the unhappy captive, the doctor told his captors that they had better go home and attend to their own business; that Pate was not crazy, and might have every one of them prosecuted for a burglarious entry into his house in the night-time. When the farmers heard this they fled with precipitation, leaving their captive in the hands of the doctor, who unbound him and treated him kindly, and, after breakfast, loaned him a horse, on which he rode back to his home."

"What did Pate do after he was declared sane by the doctor and released from captivity?" asked the Professor.

"He proceeded with his preparations for the tournament," said Toney. "His views in relation to tilting at a ring were unanimously approved by the committee; though the Noble Nonentity suggested, that as the weather would be very sultry, each knight should be allowed to carry an umbrella to protect himself from the heat of the sun. This prudent suggestion, intended to guard against the danger of coup de soleil, is still under consideration, and is a matter yet to be decided by the committee, to meet which was the cause of Pate's hurried departure on yesterday."

"When does the tournament come off?" asked Tom Seddon.

"Next Monday," said Toney. "Tom, you must be here on that day."

"I most certainly will," said Tom.

"And I, too," said the Professor.

"Are you going back with Tom?" asked Toney.

"I intend to return to Bella Vista for the purpose of protecting Mr. Seddon from Dr. Bull, if that eminent physician should undertake to make any more experiments in phlebotomy," said the Professor. "But I will be here on the day of the tourney. Good-by, Toney."

"Good-by, Charley; good-by, Tom," said Toney, shaking hands with his two friends, who proceeded to the cars, and took passage for Bella Vista.