James had selected a good piece,—Patrick Henry’s well-known appeal to arms, familiar to every school-boy, commencing, “I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience.”
It is a fine piece of oratory, lofty in tone and sentiment, and should be spoken with dignified earnestness. James Turner’s voice, which was shrill, was scarcely calculated to do justice to it. Still it would not have called out any demonstration from the young auditory, but for one or two peculiar ideas on the part of James, as to the proper way of speaking it. When he came to the clause, “We have prostrated ourselves before the throne,” he suited the action to the word, and sank upon his knees. But, afraid of soiling his pantaloons, he first spread out his silk handkerchief on the platform, and this spoiled whatever effect the action might otherwise have had. There was a general titter, which the young aristocrat saw with anger. At the end of the sentence, he rose from his knees, and, with a general scowl at the boys, kept on with his declamation.
But a more serious contretemps awaited him. A little further on, the orator says, “We have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne.” Here again, James, with a striking lack of judgment, thought it would heighten the effect to suit the action to the word. Accordingly, he prepared to kick out with his right foot. Unfortunately, he was so provoked with his school-mates, for their lack of appreciation of the other point he had made, that he executed the manœuvre, if it may properly be so called, with a spiteful emphasis which was too much for his equilibrium. He lost his balance, and fell forward in a ludicrous manner, and rolled over on the floor of the school-room.
It could not be expected that fifty school-boys could restrain their merriment under such trying circumstances. There was a wild burst of laughter, in which, after an ineffectual attempt to resist the infection, Mr. Tower himself was compelled to join. Boys laughed till the tears came into their eyes, and the merriment was only increased when James Turner rose to his feet, and with an air of offended majesty marched indignantly to his seat, darting a look of withering scorn, as he meant it to be, at his youthful audience.
The laughter recommenced, and became almost hysteric. The principal, however, quickly recovered himself, and said:—
“Boys, that will do. Turner, you must excuse the boys for a little good-natured merriment at your expense. I think your conception of the gestures proper to use with your piece is not quite correct. However, that is a point on which the most experienced speakers are apt to make mistakes; not only boys, but men. Your intention was good, though the effect was injured by circumstances.”
These remarks ought to have appeased the offended orator, but he evidently did not mean to be appeased so readily. His feeling of mortification was swallowed up in a greater feeling of anger and irritation at the presumption of his school-mates, in daring to laugh at him, the son of the richest man in Vernon. He felt that he was entitled, rather, to be treated with respect and deference. So he sat sullenly through the remainder of the speaking, with an ill-tempered scowl upon his features.
When the speaking was over, Mr. Tower rose and said:—
“Boys, you are aware that at the commencement of the term I offered a prize to the boy who, in your own judgment, should be pronounced to have succeeded best in declamation, taking into consideration the whole term. As this is the last time we shall declaim before vacation, I will call for the vote now. I shall distribute small slips of paper among you, and I will ask each boy to inscribe upon his slip the name of that one who, in his opinion, deserves the prize. We will afterwards count the votes.”
Slips of paper were accordingly distributed, and the boys were soon busy in recording their votes.