§ 364 A Tribute — With One Reservation
A distinguished member of the Little Rock bar was notable for two things: his capacity for chambering good, red liquor and his ability to speak eloquently at short notice upon any conceivable subject. Oratorically, he was even as the rock which Moses smote—one cue, one suggestion, one invitation and from him there would pour a glittering, noble stream of language. One night at a banquet in his home city the toastmaster conspired with certain of the guests to play a trick upon this talented gentleman; in fact, I believe a wager was laid. The plot was launched early in the evening when he was informed that, contrary to the local custom, he would not be called upon for any remarks. Then privily, a waiter was instructed to station himself behind the chair of Colonel Doolove—that being the orator’s name—with orders to see to it that the Colonel’s toddy glass was replenished as often as he might empty it. So well did the waiter obey his orders that by the time the hour for the speech-making rolled around the Colonel appeared to be almost in a state of coma. The toastmaster felt that the moment had come for springing his surprise. Perhaps I should have stated earlier that the bet was to the effect that there was at least one toast to which the Colonel, drunk or sober, could never respond with fitting words.
With a confident wink at some of his co-conspirators the toastmaster arose, and said:
“In view of the fact that one of the guests of honor has disappointed us to-night, and in order that this feast of reason and flow of soul may properly be rounded out I am going to take the liberty of calling upon one whose name does not appear on the post-prandial program. I shall ask our distinguished friend, Colonel Doolove, to favor us with a few remarks in his inimitable style. I ask him now to speak to the toast—water.”
Groggily the Colonel rose in his place. With difficulty he fixed his wavering vision upon the company and then without further hesitation delivered himself of the following:
“Mr. Toastmaster and Gentlemen, I speak to-night of water. What visions does that word conjure up! What delectable thoughts does it bring to the contemplative mind. Water, I maintain, is the most beneficent, the most benign and the most beautiful of all the elements with which a generous Creator has endowed this mundane sphere.
“Is water beneficent? I ask of the rolling tides which, in obedience to the command of the Almighty, ebb and flow at their ordained times, now retreating, now advancing, upon the wave-kissed beach. I ask of the oceans which bring to us the freighted argosies of other climes. I ask of the rivers which bear upon their currents the commerce of nations, making possible communication and intercourse between peoples. Yea, verily, water is beneficent.
“Is water benign? Consider the dews which freshen the flowers of the field and make glad and glorious the summer morn. Consider the rains which descend upon the parched and arid desert, causing fragrant blossom to burgeon where before there was but sand and waste. Consider the harnessed power of dashing streams which turns the wheels and gives impetus to applied industry. Consider these things and then dare to say water is not benign!
“Is water beautiful? The answer is found in impetuous Niagara. It is found in the roaring cataract, in the purling brook, in the racing mountain torrent, and upon the bosom of the sheltered lake illumined with the glorious colors of the sinking sun, and reflecting, as a mirror, every shifting play of radiance from the skies, every dancing frond of the lofty evergreens caressed by the breezes of the evening. It is found in the teardrop of the mother as she bids her son go forth to fight for his imperiled country.
“Never, while man has speech, is it to be gainsaid that water is beneficent, that it is benign, that it is beautiful. But, gentlemen, as a beverage it is a dadburned failure!”