The evening of the contest arrived and with it the seating of seasoned, experienced, graceful, prize-winning orators, in comparison with whom I knew I should not and could not under any stretch of the imagination be placed. I wanted to give a speech in public, that was the height to which my expectancy went, but, of course, I had to set before me the prizes that were offered and be prepared for “accidents.” When my turn came and I faced that illimitable sea of white faces, I felt my feet slip from under me while I seemed to float above this conscious world. Then I picked out an interested face in the far, far corner of the church. At him I threw my strident voice, determined to make him hear what I had to say. The result was, in Thropper’s words, “Priddy, it seemed that you placed your pitch on top of the highest mountain in the world, and after that it was a scream, that’s all, old fellow. That was due to inexperience.” But this failure was atoned for when the judges especially commented on the “careful thought,” “the good English,” and “the excellent form of the written oration” and when they marked me in second place on the literary side of the matter, I felt repaid with my first adventure into public speech. I felt that I had vindicated the struggles I had set before me, through the long years, to go through the school. _Chapter XII. The Personnel of “The Clamorous Eight” and other Social Matters. The “Blepoes” and the “Boulomaies” Invite me into Fellowship with a Protest from Jason. Epics and Lyrics of Love. “Pa” Borden Speaks for the Benedicts on a Momentous Matter. How the Magic Tree Lured Some Unfaithful Ones from their Sworn Duty_