manufactured bow and retired.

A little shamefaced girl lisped, "Mary had a little lamb," etc.,

performed a compassion-inspiring curtsy, got her meed of applause, and

sat down flushed and happy.

Tom Sawyer stepped forward with conceited confidence and soared into

the unquenchable and indestructible "Give me liberty or give me death"

speech, with fine fury and frantic gesticulation, and broke down in the

middle of it. A ghastly stage-fright seized him, his legs quaked under

him and he was like to choke. True, he had the manifest sympathy of the

house but he had the house's silence, too, which was even worse than

its sympathy. The master frowned, and this completed the disaster. Tom

struggled awhile and then retired, utterly defeated. There was a weak

attempt at applause, but it died early.

"The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck" followed; also "The Assyrian Came

Down," and other declamatory gems. Then there were reading exercises,

and a spelling fight. The meagre Latin class recited with honor. The

prime feature of the evening was in order, now--original "compositions"

by the young ladies. Each in her turn stepped forward to the edge of

the platform, cleared her throat, held up her manuscript (tied with

dainty ribbon), and proceeded to read, with labored attention to

expression" and punctuation. The themes were the same that had been

illuminated upon similar occasions by their mothers before them, their

grandmothers, and doubtless all their ancestors in the female line

206

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer