CHAPTER XXVI

CONCLUSION

Ward, with the other speakers, was waiting in the rear of the platform, but the printed program informed each when his time was to come, and so each was striving to possess his soul in patience.

Berry was the first to be called, and as Ward peered out at him as he advanced to the front of the platform, bowed gracefully to Dr. Gray, and then turned to face the audience, he almost envied him his self-possession and ease.

Soon, however, the boy was speaking, and as he went on even Ward felt deeply interested in what he was saying. When his declamation was ended and a storm of applause broke forth, Ward felt as if there was little use in trying to compete with Berry, and as he rejoined his companions in the rear of the platform Ward was the first to congratulate him upon his success.

And his expressions were genuine and hearty too, for while Ward with all his heart desired to win the prize, he had now no feeling of bitterness toward his competitors.

Ripley was the next speaker, but Ward at once perceived that he was far below Berry in his hold upon the audience, and indeed among those who followed only Pond seemed in any way likely to be a close competitor for the prize.

Ward's name was the last on the list, and when he heard his name announced and walked slowly forward, he was somehow conscious that the audience was becoming somewhat wearied and restless.

His appearance, however, served to arouse the younger portion at least, and a faint murmur of applause was heard as he bowed low to his hearers. This was quickly hushed and Ward for the first time looked directly at his audience.

He was conscious only of an indiscriminate mass of faces at first all turned toward him. It seemed to him as if he must have more air. His breath would not come and he felt as if he were choking. For a moment every sentence of his declamation departed and he could not recall even the first and opening words.

His momentary hesitation was not noticed or perhaps perceived by his audience, however, or it may have been that they considered his hesitancy as only a deliberate movement on his part. It seemed to the frightened boy as if something were clutching him by the throat. Everything turned black before him, and he almost felt that he must cry aloud in his misery. Abject failure seemed to stare him in the face.

Suddenly he caught sight of Mr. Crane seated about half-way back in the audience, and then right near him were his father and mother and Jack. The last was leaning forward and regarding him with breathless interest, and the sight instantly restored Ward's self-possession. The words of his declamation instantly flashed into his mind and in a low, clear voice he began to speak.

All his previous confusion which to him had seemed to cover hours, had in reality lasted but a moment, and as has been said, was not noted by his audience. But as soon as he heard the sound of his own voice all his "stage fright" was forgotten and his whole soul was in his immediate task. Yet out of all the audience Ward seemed to be aware only of the presence of Mr. Crane. To him he was speaking, and almost as if he was to be the deciding judge he addressed himself to the teacher. Whenever he changed his position or faced other portions of the assembly he saw no one distinctly and soon returned to his favorite teacher. To him he spoke, for him he exerted himself, his praise was to be his exceeding great reward.

And Ward Hill threw himself without reserve into his speaking. It seemed to him as if every word was his own, and he must make his hearers see what he saw and believe as he believed. The audience became more and more silent, and almost no one removed his eyes from the eager, animated, manly-appearing boy.

As he went on his eagerness increased and the interest of his hearers increased also. Ward almost forgot every one except Mr. Crane, and as he felt rather than saw the intense interest of his teacher, he responded to it instantly. There was no hesitation, no faltering, no lack of words now. His face was glowing, his movements animated, and his every gesture counted.

When at last he had finished and paused a moment before he made his final bow, there was a silence in the room that was most intense. But the instant he turned to depart from the platform the pent-up feelings of the audience broke forth and a storm of applause followed him which continued long after he had rejoined his competitors behind the scenes.

"You did nobly, Ward," said Pond eagerly, as he grasped the hand of the flushed and excited boy. "Not much show for us, is there, Berry?" he added, as Berry pressed forward to add his congratulations.

"I'm afraid not," replied Berry. "I never heard any one do better, Ward."

They all instantly became silent as Dr. Gray arose to speak. He spoke some warm words of praise for the work which had been done that year, and then announced the honors of the graduating class.

Pond stood at the head, and although the audience applauded heartily, the announcement created little interest, as the popular boy's position had been a forgone conclusion. Berry was second and Ward was third. The applause which followed had hardly begun before Ward rushed forward to congratulate the boys who had outstripped him.

"Lucky for us, Ward, that you didn't work last year as you have this. I'm afraid we wouldn't have stood a very good chance if you had," said Pond.

Ward laughed as he said: "To tell the truth, boys, I should be glad to have stood first, of course, but there was not much chance for me with the load I had to carry. Perhaps I learned more, though, by my failures than I would have if I had worked as hard last year as I have this. The wound is healed but the scar is left, you see. But honestly, fellows, I'm glad you are the ones to go ahead if I couldn't."

"Hush, boys! Here comes the committee to report their decision," said Berry.

The suspense and interest were manifest in the hush which fell over all as the chairman of the committee who was to award the prize for the best declamation now returned to the platform and signified his readiness to make the report.

As in duty bound the man first referred to his own school days in Weston, now far back in the years, and noted the many changes which had taken place. Then he went on to speak in glowing terms of the exercises of the evening, and when he came to the remark which almost every chairman had made for years, that "seldom from any college platform had he heard better speaking," a smile crept over the faces of many who heard him.

"And now," resumed the speaker, "we are to report on the exercises of this evening. If it had been in our power we should have been glad to award the first place to every boy on the program, much as Artemus Ward made each man in his company a brigadier general. But as that is impossible, we are compelled to do the next best thing and use our judgment in selecting the speaker who seems best entitled to the award and to the reward."

"Bother his long speeches," said Berry in a low voice. "Why can't he say what he has to say and be done with it?"

The three boys were standing together just out of the sight of the audience, and with breathless interest were peering forward and listening to the speaker.

"As to the award of the first prize, there has not been much difference of opinion."

The man was speaking again and the boys at once became silent and intent upon his words.

"We have decided that the first prize, in view of the points we have marked, namely: forcefulness, clearness of enunciation, gracefulness, and self-possession, and the interpretation of the piece, belongs to--Ward Hill."

The words had hardly been uttered before a loud burst of applause broke forth from the audience. Jack in his enthusiasm stood up on his seat and threw his hat into the air, but a quiet touch by Mr. Crane recalled him to the proprieties of the occasion. The applause, however, was long continued and hearty, and showed that plainly the assembly concurred in the decision.

Ward felt the blood surge up in his face and as Berry patted him upon the shoulder, and Pond's glance betrayed his feeling, Ward felt that never before had he been so happy.

"The second prize," resumed the chairman as the audience at last became quiet, "has been a little more difficult to award. The nearly equal excellence of two of the speakers has led us at last to divide the prize. The second prize is therefore awarded to Lucius Berry and Frederick Pond."

Again the applause broke forth, genuine and long continued, and was redoubled when the three boys advanced to receive their prizes.

Ward glanced down at his father and mother and as he plainly saw them stealthily wiping their eyes, he felt a suspicious moisture creeping into his own. How different it all was from the close of the preceding year! It had been a long, hard struggle, but he had been well repaid in the happiness which had come to his parents, and in which he fully shared.

He was only partially aware of what followed. He knew that the audience had been dismissed and that many of the boys crowded about him with their words of congratulation and praise. He heard Mr. Crane's quiet words of praise too, and the warm grasp of the hand which was the sole expression of his father at the time was inexpressibly dear to him. His heart seemed to be overflowing and the long-continued effort of the year had brought him its reward; far more than the prize he had received was the satisfaction of having faced his difficulties and conquered in the struggle.

At last all the audience was gone, and Jack and Ward started slowly up the street together.

"It's been a great night," said Jack: "and, Ward, you have done nobly. Everybody is proud of you. But do you know, I'm not thinking of the prize you took."

"What are you thinking of?" said Ward quietly. His own mind had not been dwelling upon the prize either.

"I was thinking of the way in which you have faced the school, the work, and yourself, this year. I think I know something of what it has cost you. It's been a big price, but it was worth it."

Ward made no reply, although his heart responded warmly to his friend's words. He thought he too knew what he had lost and what he had gained; but he could not speak of either.

"Now, Ward," resumed Jack, "you've had a chance to talk with your father. What does he say about my proposition for next year?"

"Jack, old fellow, he was deeply touched, but he doesn't think it will do."

"Is he afraid to have you with me?"

"No, no; not a bit. That isn't it, but he wants me to go to another college." Ward did not refer to the other fact of which he was well aware, that his father was not willing for him to accept so great a favor at the hands of another, when he had no means of returning it.

"That's all right, then," said Jack; "but you haven't got rid of me yet. I'm going where you go, and I'm going with you too. Wouldn't it be a fine thing if Luscious and Henry and you and I could get some rooms together? Then, if Pond and one or two of the other fellows could go up to the same college we'd be all fixed out, wouldn't we? Say, Ward, let's fix that up, will you?" And all of the eagerness and impulsiveness of Jack's nature seemed to find expression in his words.

"It would be fine," replied Ward. "We'll have to talk that up."

The few remaining days of the closing week passed rapidly, and to Ward it seemed as if he were almost in a dream. The attentions he received, the words of love and praise spoken by nearly every one, his pride in his success, and above all the satisfaction in his own soul, arising from the consciousness that he had done his best, were with him all the time.

The last interview with Mr. Crane affected him deeply. He and Jack went up together for the parting, and it seemed to them as if the quiet dignity and warm heart of the loved teacher were never more apparent.

"It's a sad break in some ways to us who are to remain," said Mr. Crane. "You can't understand it, but it seems to me as if you were my younger brothers, and the home life was being broken. There will be something lacking next year. Not that we shall not have other boys whom we shall love and in whom we shall be interested, but they will not fully take the place of those who have left. Weston is all the home I know and perhaps shall ever know, and while I never may have any boys of my own, I trust you will always let me feel at least like an older brother to each of you."

"Mr. Crane, we owe everything to you," said Ward with shining eyes.

"If I have aided you, then pay the debt by aiding others," replied Mr. Crane softly. "Weston is only a stopping-place, not the end of the journey, and there is work for you to do. Some one else needs the helping hand, and yours I know will not be held back. I shall want to hear from you often and shall follow you with interest as long as I live. Whatever else you may become, I know you will be men!"

"I trust so," said Ward, and when for the last time he grasped Mr. Crane's hand and returned the pressure, his eyes were moist and his heart went out to the noble teacher with a great love, which never ended.

Even Mr. Blake was visited by the boys that night, and much of their dislike for him was forgotten in the fullness of their hearts. All the world looked bright and there was no room for anything but peace and good-will to all men.

On the following day, the last good-byes were spoken and they knew as they started for their homes, that the end of their lives and work at Weston had come. The peaceful valley, bathed in the sunlight of the early summer morning, smiled upon them. Around it were the hills, the everlasting hills, which would beam upon the coming generations of boys, who might never know of the struggles and triumphs, the failures and success of Ward Hill; but as for the last time he looked back upon the familiar scenes he felt that in a peculiar sense they were his own personal possessions. He might not return to them, but they would not depart from him.

"We'll meet again," said Jack when the school cheer had been given for the last time on the platform of the little station at Dorrfield.

Were his words true? Certainly in the college days there was ample opportunity to test the truthfulness of his prophecy, and as a record of those days has been kept as well as of the visits to the old familiar scenes at Weston, perhaps some of our readers may be sufficiently interested to desire to follow their fortunes in----

WARD HILL AT COLLEGE.

*      *      *      *      *      *      *      *

The Outdoor Chums
SERIES

By CAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN

The Outdoor Chums

    On the Lake

        In the Forest

            On the Gulf

                After Big Game

                    On A House Boat

                        In the Big Woods

                            At Cabin Point

For lovers of the great outdoors (and what boy is not?) this "Outdoor Chums" series will be a rare treat. After you have read the first book and followed the fortunes of the "Chums," you will realize the pleasure the other seven volumes have in store for you.

These rollicking lads know field, forest, mountain, sea and stream--and the books contain much valuable information on woodcraft and the living of an outdoor life.

The Goldsmith Publishing Co.
CLEVELAND, O.

The End