And it came full throated from nine hundred people. Then someone called for Harrison--he was a young man of thirty--and before he could escape he had been pushed to the platform. Holt seized an arm and drew him up while a dozen others boosted him. He faced the crowd an instant and bowed. I handed him his money in greenbacks and he ducked out of sight. I took up the second envelope and opened it. “For the best crop of hay on an acre of land already used as hay land the prize is seventy-five dollars. This has been awarded to Seth Edgar Lovejoy.” Lovejoy was a man of sixty and one of those who had followed the instructions of the agricultural expert in the matter of proper fertilization with constant grumbling. I think his idea had been to prove what a tarnation fool the expert was. In spite of this, however, he had succeeded in raising a ton and three-quarters of hay on an acre that last year had yielded him less than one ton. I was more than glad therefore for this award as it left him nothing more to say. At my announcement the younger men cheered lustily and demanded a speech from him--calling him by his nickname Killjoy. “Tell us how ye done it in spite of yerself,” yelled one man. Lovejoy, much against his will, was forced to the platform, Holt dragging him up as he had Harrison. He faced the crowd a second in a daze. “I dunno,” he muttered, “it’s th’ only piece of luck I ever hed.” “Not luck,” broke in Holt. “Science and hard work did it. Three cheers for Lovejoy who wasn’t too old to learn.” They were given good naturedly and I opened the third envelope. “Prize of one hundred dollars for the best crop of corn on an acre of land. This has been awarded to George A. Wentworth.” Everyone expected this. Wentworth was a lad of eighteen who had devoted his whole time to this one acre of corn and had watched over every stalk of it like a widow with one child. Where ordinarily twenty bushels to the acre was considered a fair crop about here, he had reaped thirty-seven--an increase of almost one hundred per cent. I had watched the boy all summer long. He was the type of young man we needed hereabout. He was earnest, industrious and with ambition to make a good living. His father had a farm of some seventy acres which wasn’t more than forty per cent. efficient and I hoped to see the boy come into possession of it. He had confided in me that if he won a prize he was going to buy a couple of acres of his father. The selection was popular and he was given a great ovation. He was the only man so far who was able to reach the platform unaided but perhaps he had learned from the previous examples the uselessness of protest. Those who hadn’t won were anxious to get as much sport as possible out of those who had. Holt seized his arm and addressed the crowd.