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."