Hicks,
the Chau-talker;"--"Spill the speech, old man; spread the oratory!"--"Oh,
where are my smelling-salts? I know I shall faint!"--"You'd better play a
banjo-accompaniment to it, Hicks!"
T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., for once in his campus career, fervidly wished he
had not been such a happy-go-lucky, care-free collegian, for now, when he
was serious, his comrades refused to believe him to be in such a state.
However, quiet was obtained at last, thanks to the fact that the youths
possessed all the curiosity of the proverbial cat who died thereby, and the
sunny Senior plunged earnestly into his famous speech, that was destined,
at old Bannister, to rank with that of Demosthenes "On The Crown," or any
of W. J, Bryan's masterpieces.
"Fellows," began Hicks, without preface, "I know I've built myself the
reputation of being a scatterbrained, heedless nonentity, and it's too late
to change now. But tonight, please believe me to be thoroughly in earnest.
Bannister faces more than one crisis, more than one tragedy. It is true
that the football eleven is crippled by the defection of Thor, that we
fellows have somewhat unreasonably allowed his quitting the game to shake
our spirit, but there is more at stake than football victories, than even
the State Intercollegiate Football Championship! The future of a student,
of a present Freshman, his hopes of becoming a loyal, solid, representative
college man, a tremendous power for good, at old Bannister, hang in the
balance at this moment! I speak of John Thorwald.
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