But these two spellers stood unmoved and calm; They knew their mission, and that kept above All else. Their friends, who wistfully looked on, Looked them their ardent hopes and prayers and love. This confidence was not reposed amiss: For no mentality as worth as this. O rude ordeal, betwixt two such minds! Two bright young folks in rosy morn of life: Sweet girlhood that mild womanhood entwines; And manhood young trained for the world’s hard strife; It seemed a prank of fate, deep, strained, and hard, But yet it must go on to its reward. There was no moment lost; the hard words flew From the pronouncer’s tongue like league base balls; And as if veteran scholars, so spelled two, Still at their post of duty ’long the walls. They were the brilliant stars, and high did rise In the fond gaze of all admiring eyes. Full thirty words went forth in steady run; And each the audience thought would be the last. But each was caught by speller as if in fun; Or charmed by magic for this august task. The oldest there had ne’er such contest heard Wherein so little boot a stubborn word. PART III MUSICAL After recess the musical began Of music, readings, dialogs and songs, Making a long diversified program. Miss Kister read each number for the throng’s Delight, who harked attentive, laughed and cheered, So they ofttimes with progress interfered. A dozen tiny tots their “pieces” spoke; Five dialogs were played with rafts of fun; Two damsels readings gave that nearly broke The backs of all, the laughter spared no one. Deer Creek and Pleasant Ridge schools blithely sang Four songs; they were cheered back till building rang. An overgrown lad, quite a bit dismayed, “Sockery and the Speckled Hen” declaimed. They encored him so loud he waxed afraid, And ran away as if he were ashamed. Altho to him such repertoire was new, But few adults as well as he could do. A blue eyed lass from Prairie Gem--she played On the spinnet and sang a pretty song; While on a banjo a Blue Valley maid Wrought music sweet to guide her lay along. Two blackened Deer Creek swains, for old and young, “Oh Don’t You Hear Dem Bells” like minstrels sung. Two violinists played selections fleet-- Sweet hornpipes, Money Musk and Devil’s Dream. This music went alike to souls and feet Of all, until a frontier frolic did seem To be in progress on a puncheon floor. They lavished them with a double encore. There were two singers more on hand that night Who won the hearts and the esteem of all; And this tale would not be complete nor right If names and parts we did not here recall. ’Tho cruel time for many years has shed The snows of age upon each noble head.