At a Camp Fire of the Grand Army of the Republic a comrade, being called
on for a speech, got up and said, "Now, boys, you all know I can't make
a speech; I never could. And the Commander shouldn't have called on me
to get up. I feel now like my brother Sam felt, one summer night, when
he hadn't anything particular to do. He wandered into a Methodist
prayer-meeting and sat down near the door in one of those high-backed
old-fashioned pews. He had no idea that he'd be called on to say
anything, or he wouldn't have gone near, but what did the blame preacher
do when he spied Sam but call on him to pray! Sam was nearly scared to
death. He didn't know what to do; but when he saw all the congregation
getting down on their hunkers between the pews where they couldn't see
him, and the door was open, he heard the bugle call to "Retreat," got
down on all fours and turned turtle, and crawled out of that church on a
double quick, and skipped for Home, sweet Home."