In the dreadful noise then prevailing it was no more heard than the fizz of a lucifer match.
Some cries, however, made themselves occasionally heard in the pauses of the din.

"Read! Read!" "Dry up!" "Sit down!" "Give him an egg!" "Fair play!" "Hurrah for Barbican!" "Down with his enemies!" "Free Speech!" "Belfast won't bite you!" "He'd like to bite Barbican, but his teeth aren't sharp enough!" "Barbican's a martyr to science, let's hear his fate!" "Martyr be hanged; the Old Man is to the good yet!" "Belfast is the grandest name in Science!" "Groans for the grandest name!" (Awful groans.) "Three cheers for Old Man Barbican!" (The exceptional strength alone of the walls saved the building, from being blown out by an explosion in which at least 5,000 pairs of lungs participated.) "Three cheers for M'Nicholl and the Frenchman!" This was followed by another burst of cheering so hearty, vigorous and long continued that the scientific party, or _Belfasters_ as they were now called, seeing that further prolongation of the meet was perfectly useless, moved to adjourn.

It was carried unanimously.

President Wilcox left the chair, the meeting broke up in the wildest disorder--the scientists rather crest fallen, but the Barbican men quite jubilant for having been so successful in preventing the reading of that detested dispatch.
Little sleeping was done that night in Baltimore, and less business next day.

Even in the public schools so little work was done by the children that S.T.Wallace, Esq., President of the Education Board, advised an anticipation of the usual Christmas recess by a week.