Mr. Bryan was aware that the meeting was in danger of serious disorder.  He rapped loudly on the table for attention.  When he had at last obtained silence, he spoke.

“I have kept my own views to the last,” he said, “because I cannot but feel that they possess a peculiar importance.  There is, my dear friends, every prospect that within a measurable distance of time I shall be able to put them into practice.  I am glad to be able to announce to you the practical certainty that four years from now I shall be President of the United States.”

At this announcement the entire company broke into spontaneous and heartfelt applause.  It had long been felt by all present that Mr. Bryan was certain to be President of the United States if only he ran for the office often enough, but that the glad moment had actually arrived seemed almost too good for belief.

“Yes, my friends,” continued the genial host, “I have just had a communication from my dear friend Wilson, in which he tells me that he, himself, will never contest the office again.  The Presidency, he says, interfered too much with his private life.  In fact, I am authorised to state in confidence that his wife forbids him to run.”

“But, my dear Jennings,” interposed Dr. Jordan thoughtfully, “what about Mr. Hughes and Colonel Roosevelt?”

“In that quarter my certainty in the matter is absolute.  I have calculated it out mathematically that I am bound to obtain, in view of my known principles, the entire German vote—­which carries with it all the great breweries of the country—­the whole Austrian vote, all the Hungarians of the sugar refineries, the Turks; in fact, my friends, I am positive that Roosevelt, if he dares to run, will carry nothing but the American vote!”

Loud applause greeted this announcement.

“And now let me explain my plan, which I believe is shared by a great number of sane, and other, pacifists in the country.  All the great nations of the world will be invited to form a single international force consisting of a fleet so powerful and so well equipped that no single nation will dare to bid it defiance.”

Mr. Bryan looked about him with a glance of something like triumph.  The whole company, and especially the Negro President, were now evidently interested.  “Say,” whispered The General Public to his companion, “this sounds like the real thing?  Eh, what?  Isn’t he a peach of a thinker?”

“What flag will your fleet fly?” asked the Negro President.

“The flags of all nations,” said Mr. Bryan.

“Where will you get your sailors?”

“From all the nations,” said Mr. Bryan, “but the uniform will be all the same, a plain white blouse with blue insertions, and white duck trousers with the word PEACE stamped across the back of them in big letters.  This will help to impress the sailors with the almost sacred character of their functions.”

“But what will the fleet’s functions be?” asked the President.