The cry was echoed by nearly all present. Shouts,
and cheers, and groans, and hisses rose up in an indistinguishable
roar.
"Put him out! Down wid him!" with other and fiercer cries, greeted
the old man's ears.
Those around him began to jostle and crowd upon him. Already violent
hands were upon him, when Eliab Hill dashed up the inclined plane
which had been made for his convenience, and, whirling himself
to the side of Nimbus, said, as he pointed with flaming face and
imperious gesture to the hustling and boisterous crowd about the
old man,
"Stop that!"
In an instant Nimbus was in the midst of the swaying crowd, his
strong arms dashing right and left until he stood beside the now
terrified remonstrant.
"Dar, dar, boys, no mo' ob dat," he cried, as he pushed the howling
mass this way and that. "Jes you listen ter Bre'er 'Liab. Don't
yer see he's a talkin' to yer?" he said, pointing to the platform
where Eliab sat with upraised hand, demanding silence.
When silence was at last obtained he spoke with more earnestness and
power than was his wont, pleading for moderation and thoughtfulness
for each other, and a careful consideration of their surroundings.
"There is too much truth," he said, "in all that has been said
here to-day. Brother Nimbus is right in saying that we must guard
our rights and privileges most carefully, if we would not lose
them.
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