Evening star., 1915-02-21

evening after.
EMBARRASSMENT of a less poignant
- character frequently arise in the matter
of unexpected calls for service, for which the
public generally assumes the platform
speaker to be necessarily always prepared.
but for which as a matter of fact no amount
of preparation could adequately fit any man
built on the old-fashioned plan in respect to
his nervous organization. One of these at
fairs came into my experience a decade ago,
when, crossing the Atlantic Ocean on one
of those high-roller ocean greyhounds | was
drafted bv an overzealouS committee of ar
rangements to preside over one of those i'm
promptu entertainments got up on ship
board for the benefit of the widows and
orphans of those who 60 down into the sea
in ships. To these more than worthy enter
prises gratitude for benefits received has
always made me willing contributor; but
to participate in them has ever been a trial.
l would rather lecture before the inmates
of deaf and dumb asylum.
The company aboard transatlantic liner
is always, to say the least, mixed in the
matter of nationality; and, while one might
be willing to make a stab at being witty
before a gathering all English, all French,
all German, or Pan-American, woe be unto
him who vaingloriously attacks the risibles
of a multitude made up of all these widely
varying racial elements! Their standards
of humor are as widely divergent as are
their several racial strains, and one might
as well try to sit on four stools at once with
perfect composure as expect to find the
"Chair' under such conditions comfortable
One has to acquiesce in such demands, how
ever, or be set down as disagreeable, and
when the committee approached me in the
matter they received a much reader yes
than l really wished to give them.
THE night came and l found myself at the
L head table in the dining saloon working
for dear life to keep the thing going. There
was pretty slim array of talent, and from
one end Of the program to the other there was
nobody to hang a really good joke on, even
if | had had one to hang. A chairman can
always be facetious at the expense of dis
tinguished people like Chauncey NJ Depew,
Henry James, or Mr.. Caruso and get away
with it, but the obscure amateur cannot
be handled with brutal impunity. l think
| may say truthfully that no man ever
worked harder at the pumps of a sinking
ship than l did that night. And to make
matters worse there was heavy rolling sea
on, and, while | never suffer from seasick-
ness, the combination of motion and nerves
made me uncomfortably conscious of an in
surgent midst as forged hopelessly ahead.
Finally however, there came rift in the
cloud of my despair. A pleasant little cock
ney ballad singer who was coming over to
America for season in vaudeville volun-
teered to sing ballad. 1t was well sung,
and most pathetic. 1t depicted in dramatic
fashion the delirium of an old British vet
eran, who, as the hour of death approached
him, was fighting over again in fancy the
battles of his youth. The refrain of the bal
lad was, Bring me the old Martini, and shall
die in bedeeAreferring of course to the rifle
that for period of years up to 1890 had
been the official weapon of Tommy Atkins
| made the most of SO obvious lead, and
before introducing the next number on the
program thanked the singer for his dramatic
rendering of so fine a story.
@But, my friends" said I, "that ballad
saddens me in more respects than one. |
have long believed in international brother
hood. In common with my friend Conan
Doyle and others who have advocated the
hands stretched across the sea, have been
in sympathetic accord with the idea of
universal brotherhood; but now and then
certain little things crop up that, insgniti-
cant in themselves, show us none the less
how radically far apart we really are. This
splendid old British warrior calling for his
Martini is case in point, and | am sure my