to speak in his place? It will
be a pity to have our exercises incomplete."

Fletcher was angry, and wanted to be revenged on somebody. A bright
idea came to him. He would place the "printer's devil," whose
admission to the Society he resented, in an awkward position. He
rose with a malicious smile upon his face.

"Mr. President," he said, "doubtless Mr. Walton, the new member who
has done us the _honor_ to join our society, will be willing to
supply my place."

"We shall certainly be glad to hear a declamation from Mr. Walton,
though it is hardly fair to call upon him at such short notice."

"Can't you speak something, Harry?" whispered Oscar. "Don't do it,
unless you are sure you can get through."

Harry started in surprise when his name was first mentioned, but he
quickly resolved to accept his duty. He had a high reputation at
home for speaking, and he had recently learned a spirited poem,
familiar, no doubt, to many of my young readers, called "Shamus
O'Brien." It is the story of an Irish volunteer, who was arrested
for participating in the Irish rebellion of '98, and is by turns
spirited and pathetic. Harry had rehearsed it to himself only the
night before, and he had confidence in a strong and retentive memory.
At the President's invitation he rose to his feet, and said, "Mr.
President, I will do as well as I can, but I hope the members of the
Society will make allowance for me, as I have had no time for special
preparation."

All eyes were fixed with interest upon our hero, as he advanced to
the platform, and, bowing composedly, commenced his declamation. It
was not long before that interest increased, as Harry proceeded in
his recitation. He lost all diffidence, forgot the audience, and
entered thoroughly into the spirit of the piece. Especially when, in
the trial scene, Shamus is called upon to plead guilty or not guilty,
Harry surpassed himself, and spoke with a spirit and fire which
brought down the house. This is the passage:--

"My lord, if you ask me, if in my life-time
I thought any treason, or did any crime,
That should call to my cheek, as I stand alone here,
The hot blush of shame, or the coldness of fear,
Though I stood by the grave to receive my death-blow,
Before God and the world I would answer you, no!
But if you would ask me, as I think it like,
If in the rebellion I carried a pike,
An' fought for ould Ireland from the first to the close,
An' shed the