The Amphitheatre was fuller than they had seen it yet when they reached it and made their way as far forward as possible so that they might hear all that was said.
"Evidently this is popular," remarked Mr. Emerson to his daughter as he took his seat next to her, placing himself at the end of the bench so that he could get into the aisle quickly when the time came. There seemed to be an unusual spirit of gayety in the audience, they thought, for many people were being playfully urged by their friends to go up on to the stage, and others who had made up their minds to go were being coached by their companions who were giving out words from the C.L.S.C. books for them to practice on.
A short flight of steps had been arranged at the front of the platform on which two rows of chairs were placed ready for the contestants. At the back a large table was loaded with heavy dictionaries for the use of the judges who were to decide any questions of doubt.
A burst of applause greeted the Director of the Institution as he walked forward and introduced the announcer of words, a college president. After giving a short history of the Annual Spelling Match, which dated back to the early days of the Assembly, he announced that the contest of the evening was to be between representatives of New York, Pennsylvania, and Ohio on one side and the Rest of the World on the other.
Amid the laughter that followed the announcement Helen whispered to Margaret who sat next to her—
"Why New York, Pennsylvania, and Ohio?"
"They send more people here than any of the other states. You ought to see them stand up on Old First Night! There are hordes of them."
The Director went on to state the rules that were to govern the contestants. They must be over fifteen years old. They might ask to have a word pronounced again but they could have only one chance to spell it. A spelling was to be accepted as correct if it were confirmed by any of the dictionaries on the stage—Worcester, Webster, the Standard, and the Century. The judges were professors from the faculty of the Summer Schools and their decision was to be final. No one who had taken a prize in previous years might enter. Lastly, a ten dollar gold piece was to add an extra inducement to enter the contest and to give an extra pleasure to the winner.
"Now," he concluded, "will the gladiators come forward, stating as they step on the platform on which side they are to fight."
There was a moment's pause until a courageous few advanced to the front. The Director announced their partisanship. They were all, as it happened, from New York, Pennsylvania, or Ohio and they sat down on the chairs at the right of the audience.