HARRY JOINS THE CLIONIAN SOCIETY.
A week later Harry Walton received the following note:--
"Centreville, May 16th, 18--,
"Dear Sir: At the last meeting of the Clionian
Society you were elected a member. The next meeting
will be held on Thursday evening, in the Academy
building.
"Yours truly,
"GEORGE SANBORN,
"Secretary.
"MR. HARRY WALTON."
Our hero read this letter with satisfaction. It would be pleasant
for him to become acquainted with the Academy students, but he
thought most of the advantages which his membership would afford him
in the way of writing and speaking. He had never attempted to
debate, and dreaded attempting it for the first time; but he knew
that nothing desirable would be accomplished without effort, and he
was willing to make that effort.
"What have you there, Walton?" asked Clapp, noticing the letter which
he held in his hand.
"You can read it if you like," said Harry.
"Humph!" said Clapp; "so you are getting in with the Academy boys?"
"Why shouldn't he?" said Ferguson.
"Oh, they're a stuck-up set."
"I don't find them so--that is, with one exception," said Harry.
"They are mostly the sones of rich men, and look down on those who
have to work for a living."
Clapp was of a jealous and envious disposition, and he was always
fancying slights where they were not intended.
"If I thought so," said Harry, "I would not join the Society, but as
they have elected me, I shall become a member, and see how things
turn out."
"It is a good plan, Harry," said Ferguson. "It will be a great
advantage to you."
"I wish I had a chance to attend the Academy for a couple of years,"
said our hero, thoughtfully.
"I don't," said Clapp. "What's the good of studying Latin and Greek,
and all that rigmarole? It won't bring you money, will it?"
"Yes," said Ferguson. "Education will make a man more competent to
earn money, at any rate in many cases. I have a cousin, who used to
go to school with me, but his father was able to send him to college.
He is now a lawyer in Boston, making four or five times my income.
But it isn't for the money alone that an education is worth having.
There is a pleasure in being educated."
"So I think," said Harry.
"I don't see it," said Clapp. "I wouldn't be a bookworm for anybody.
There's Walton learning French. What good is it ever going to do
him?"
"I can tell you better by and by, when I know a little more," said
Harry. "I am only a beginner now."
"Dr. Franklin would never have become distinguished if he had been
satisfied with what he knew as an apprentice," said Ferguson.
"Oh, if you're going to bring up Franklin again, I've got through,"
said Clapp with a sneer. "I forgot that Walton was trying to be a
second Franklin."
"I don't see much chance of it," said Harry, good-humoredly. "I
should like to be if I could."
Clapp seemed to be in an ill-humor, and the conversation was not
continued. He had been up late the night before with Luke Harrison,
and both had drank more than was good for them. In consequence,
Clapp had a severe headache, and this did not improve his temper.
"Come round Thursday evening, Harry," said Oscar Vincent, "and go to
the Society with me. I will introduce you to the fellows. It will
be less awkward, you know."
"Thank you, Oscar. I shall be glad to accept your escort."
When Thursday evening came, Oscar and Harry entered the Society hall
arm in arm. Oscar led his companion up to the Secretary and
introduced him.
"I am glad to see you, Mr. Walton," said he. "Will you sign your
name to the Constitution? That is all the formality we require."
"Except a slight pecuniary disbursement," added Oscar.
"How much is the entrance fee?" asked Harry.
"One dollar. You win pay that to the Treasurer."
Oscar next introduced our hero to the President, and some of the
leading members, all of whom welcomed him cordially.
"Good-evening, Mr. Fletcher," said Harry, observing that young
gentleman near him.
"Good-evening, sir," said Fletcher stiffly, and turned on his heel
without offering his hand.
"Fletcher don't feel well," whispered Oscar. "He had a visit from a
poor relation the other day--a tin-pedler--and it gave such a shock
to his sensitive system that he hasn't recovered from it yet."
"I didn't imagine Mr. Fletcher had such a plebeian relative," said
Harry.
"Nor did any of us. The interview was rich. It amused us all, but
what was sport to us was death to poor Fitz. You have only to make
the most distant allusion to a tin-pedler in his hearing, and he will
become furious."
"Then I will be careful."
"Oh, it won't do any harm. The fact was, the boy was getting too
overbearing, and putting on altogether too many airs. The lesson
will do him good, or ought to."
Here the Society was called to order, and Oscar and Harry took their
seats.
The exercises proceeded in regular order until the President
announced a declamation by Fitzgerald Fletcher.
"Mr. President," said Fletcher, rising, "I must ask to be excused. I
have not had time to prepare a declamation."
"Mr. President," said Tom Carver, "under the circumstances I hope you
will excuse Mr. Fletcher, as during the last week he has had an
addition to his family."
There was a chorus of laughter, loud and long, at this sally. All
were amused except Fletcher himself, who looked flushed and provoked.
"Mr. Fletcher is excused," said the President, unable to refrain from
smiling. "Will any member volunteer to speak in his place? It will
be a pity to have our exercises incomplete."
Fletcher was angry, and wanted to be revenged on somebody. A bright
idea came to him. He would place the "printer's devil," whose
admission to the Society he resented, in an awkward position. He
rose with a malicious smile upon his face.
"Mr. President," he said, "doubtless Mr. Walton, the new member who
has done us the _honor_ to join our society, will be willing to
supply my place."
"We shall certainly be glad to hear a declamation from Mr. Walton,
though it is hardly fair to call upon him at such short notice."
"Can't you speak something, Harry?" whispered Oscar. "Don't do it,
unless you are sure you can get through."
Harry started in surprise when his name was first mentioned, but he
quickly resolved to accept his duty. He had a high reputation at
home for speaking, and he had recently learned a spirited poem,
familiar, no doubt, to many of my young readers, called "Shamus
O'Brien." It is the story of an Irish volunteer, who was arrested
for participating in the Irish rebellion of '98, and is by turns
spirited and pathetic. Harry had rehearsed it to himself only the
night before, and he had confidence in a strong and retentive memory.
At the President's invitation he rose to his feet, and said, "Mr.
President, I will do as well as I can, but I hope the members of the
Society will make allowance for me, as I have had no time for special
preparation."
All eyes were fixed with interest upon our hero, as he advanced to
the platform, and, bowing composedly, commenced his declamation. It
was not long before that interest increased, as Harry proceeded in
his recitation. He lost all diffidence, forgot the audience, and
entered thoroughly into the spirit of the piece. Especially when, in
the trial scene, Shamus is called upon to plead guilty or not guilty,
Harry surpassed himself, and spoke with a spirit and fire which
brought down the house. This is the passage:--
"My lord, if you ask me, if in my life-time
I thought any treason, or did any crime,
That should call to my cheek, as I stand alone here,
The hot blush of shame, or the coldness of fear,
Though I stood by the grave to receive my death-blow,
Before God and the world I would answer you, no!
But if you would ask me, as I think it like,
If in the rebellion I carried a pike,
An' fought for ould Ireland from the first to the close,
An' shed the heart's blood of her bitterest foes,
I answer you, _yes_; and I tell you again,
Though I stand here to perish, it's my glory that then
In her cause I was willing my veins should run dhry,
An' that now for her sake I am ready to die."
After the applause had subsided, Harry proceeded, and at the
conclusion of the declamation, when he bowed modestly and left the
platform, the hall fairly shook with the stamping, in which all
joined except Fletcher, who sat scowling with dissatisfaction at a
result so different from his hopes. He had expected to bring
discomfiture to our hero. Instead, he had given him an opportunity
to achieve a memorable triumph.
"You did yourself credit, old boy!" said Oscar, seizing and wringing
the hand of Harry, as the latter resumed his seat. "Why, you ought
to go on the stage!"
"Thank you," said Harry; "I am glad I got through well."
"Isn't Fitz mad, though? He thought you'd break down. Look at him!"
Harry looked over to Fletcher, who, with a sour expression, was
sitting upright, and looking straight before him.
"He don't look happy, does he?" whispered Oscar, comically.
Harry came near laughing aloud, but luckily for Fletcher's peace of
mind, succeeded in restraining himself.
"He won't call you up again in a hurry; see if he does," continued
Oscar.
"I am sure we have all been gratified by Mr. Walton's spirited
declamation," said the President, rising. "We congratulate ourselves
upon adding so fine a speaker to our society, and hope often to have
the pleasure of hearing him declaim."
There was a fresh outbreak of applause, after which the other
exercises followed. When the meeting was over the members of the
Society crowded around Harry, and congratulated him on his success.
These congratulations he received so modestly, as to confirm the
favorable impression he had made by his declamation.
"By Jove! old fellow," said Oscar, as they were walking home, "I am
beginning to be proud of you. You are doing great credit to your
teacher."
"Thank you, Professor," said Harry. "Don't compliment me too much,
or I may become vain, and put on airs."
"If you do, I'll get Fitz to call, and remind you that you are only a
printer's devil, after all."