"I move't Ralph Buckley, he be chairman," said one.
"I second the move," said another. The motion was put, and Ralph was
unanimously elected as chairman.
"They ain't no time to make any speech," he said, backing up against
the tree in order to face the assemblage. "We got jest time to 'lect a
sec'etary and draw out some res'lutions."
"I move't Jimmie Donnelly be sec'etary."
"I second Jimmie Donnelly."
"All you who want Jimmie Donnelly for sec'etary, hol' up your right
han's an' say yi."
There was a chorus of yi's.
"I move't Ed. Williams be treasher."
Then the objector rose. "Aw!" he said, "we don't want no treasher.
W'at we want a treasher for? we ain't goin' to spen' no money."
"You got to have a treasher," broke in a youthful Gushing, "you got to
have one, or less your meetin' won't be legal, nor your res'lutions,
neither!"
The discussion was ended abruptly by some one seconding the nomination
of Ed. Williams, and the motion was immediately put and carried.
"Now," said another young parliamentarian, "I move't the chairman pint
out a committee of three fellows to write the res'lutions."
This motion was also seconded, put, and carried, and Ralph designated
three boys in the company, one of whom, Joe Foster, had more than an
ordinary reputation for learning, as a committee on resolutions; and,
while they went down to the breaker office for pen, ink, and paper,
the meeting took a recess.
It was, indeed, a task for those three unlearned boys to express in
writing, their grief consequent upon the death of their employer,
and their sympathy for his living loved ones, but they performed it.
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