S.M.A.!_"
_"Prescott!"_
Dick Prescott's chest began to heave, though he strove to conceal
all emotion. It was sweet, indeed, to have all this enthusiasm over
him, after he had so long been the innocent outcast of the class.
Tears shone in either eye. Ashamed to raise a hand to brush the
moisture away, Dick tried to wink them out of sight.
But Douglass, Durville and the others gave him no time to think.
They came crowding about him faster than they could reach him,
each with outstretched hand.
Little was said. Soldiers are proverbially silent, preferring
deeds to words. So, for nearly ten minutes, the handshaking proceeded.
At last Douglass, with a warning nod and several gestures, brought
the temporary chairman to his senses.
Rap! rap! rap! rang the gavel on the desk.
"The class will please come to order," called Chairman Fullerton.
"Now, gentlemen, is there any further business to come before
the class?"
"Mr. Chairman," called Douglass, "I move that we proceed to the
election of a class president."
"Second the motion," cried Durville.
The motion was carried with a rush.
"Mr. Chairman!" called the tireless ex-class president.
"Mr. Douglass."
"Mr. Chairman and gentlemen, I am going to make a mistake that
has become time honored among public speakers, that of telling
you what you already know as well as I do. This is that Mr.
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