At the Assembly of 1877 the Normal Class still stood in the foreground. Special courses of lessons were given to Primary Teachers, by Mrs. Emily Huntington Miller, Mrs. Wilbur F. Crafts, and the ever-popular "Pansy"--Mrs. G. R. Alden. The record informs us that the average attendance at the four normal tents was more than five hundred. Thorough reviews after the course were held from time to time, and this year two competitive examinations, one on August 14th for those unable to remain until the close, but received examination on the entire course--fifty questions in number; the other on Tuesday, August 21st with three hundred candidates for the diploma. From 1876 for a number of years it was the custom to hold an anniversary service on one evening, for the Normal Alumni. The graduates marched in procession, led by a band, a silken banner before each class, and every member wearing a badge, to the Pavilion in the ravine and afterward to its successor the Amphitheater, where Chautauqua songs were sung, and an address given by an orator, the President of the Normal Alumni introducing the speaker. It may have been in 1877, or maybe in a later year, that John B. Gough was the orator of the evening; and he began his address in this wise: I don't know why I have been chosen to speak to the Alumni of Chautauqua, unless it is because I am an Alumni myself, if that is the right word for one of them. I am art alumni of Amherst College; M.A., Master of Arts. I have a diploma, all in Latin. I can't read a word of it, and don't know what it means, but those long Latin words look as if they must mean something great. When I was made an alumni I sat on the platform of the Commencement Day; the salutatorian--they told me that was his title--came up and began to speak in Latin. He said something to the President, and he bowed and smiled as if he understood it. He turned to the trustees, and spoke to them and they looked as wise as they could. He said something to the graduating class, and they seemed to enjoy it--all in Latin; and I hadn't the remotest idea what it was all about. I kept saying to myself, "I wish that he would speak just one word that I could understand." Finally, the orator turned straight in my direction and said, "Ignoramus!" I smiled, and bowed, just as the others had. There was one word that I could understand, and it exactly fitted my case!