heart's blood of her bitterest foes,
I answer you, _yes_; and I tell you again,
Though I stand here to perish, it's my glory that then
In her cause I was willing my veins should run dhry,
An' that now for her sake I am ready to die."

After the applause had subsided, Harry proceeded, and at the
conclusion of the declamation, when he bowed modestly and left the
platform, the hall fairly shook with the stamping, in which all
joined except Fletcher, who sat scowling with dissatisfaction at a
result so different from his hopes. He had expected to bring
discomfiture to our hero. Instead, he had given him an opportunity
to achieve a memorable triumph.

"You did yourself credit, old boy!" said Oscar, seizing and wringing
the hand of Harry, as the latter resumed his seat. "Why, you ought
to go on the stage!"

"Thank you," said Harry; "I am glad I got through well."

"Isn't Fitz mad, though? He thought you'd break down. Look at him!"

Harry looked over to Fletcher, who, with a sour expression, was
sitting upright, and looking straight before him.

"He don't look happy, does he?" whispered Oscar, comically.

Harry came near laughing aloud, but luckily for Fletcher's peace of
mind, succeeded in restraining himself.

"He won't call you up again in a hurry; see if he does," continued
Oscar.

"I am sure we have all been gratified by Mr. Walton's spirited
declamation," said the President, rising. "We congratulate ourselves
upon adding so fine a speaker to our society, and hope often to have
the pleasure of hearing him declaim."

There was a fresh outbreak of applause, after which the other
exercises followed. When the meeting was over the members of the
Society crowded around Harry, and congratulated him on his success.
These congratulations he received so modestly, as to confirm the
favorable impression he had made by his declamation.

"By Jove! old fellow," said Oscar, as they were walking home, "I am
beginning to be proud of you. You are doing great credit to your
teacher."

"Thank you, Professor," said Harry. "Don't compliment me too much,
or I may become vain, and put on airs."

"If you do, I'll get Fitz to call, and remind you that you are only a
printer's devil, after all."

CHAPTER XIII.

VACATION BEGINS AT THE ACADEMY.

Not long after his election as a member of the Clionian Society, the
summer term of the Prescott Academy closed. The examination took
place about the tenth of Jun