ssed anything of the prophetic
sadness which mingled with her exultation.

The name of my theme, (which was made public for the first time in the
little programme) is worthy of a moment's emphasis. _Going West_ had
been suggested, of course by the emigration fever, then at its height,
and upon it I had lavished a great deal of anxious care. As an oration
it was all very excited and very florid, but it had some stirring ideas
in it and coming in the midst of the profound political discourses of my
fellows and the formal essays of the girls, it seemed much more singular
and revolutionary, both in form and in substance, than it really was.

As I waited my turn, I experienced that sense of nausea, that numbness
which always preceded my platform trials, but as my name was called I
contrived to reach the proper place behind the footlights, and to bow to
the audience. My opening paragraph perplexed my fellows, and naturally,
for it was exceedingly florid, filled with phrases like "the lure of the
sunset," "the westward urge of men," and was neither prose nor verse.
Nevertheless I detected a slight current of sympathy coming up to me,
and in the midst of the vast expanse of faces, I began to detect here
and there a friendly smile. Mother and father were near but their faces
were very serious.

After a few moments the blood began to circulate through my limbs and I
was able to move about a little on the stage. My courage came back, but
alas!--just in proportion as I attained confidence my emotional chant
mounted too high! Since the writing was extremely ornate, my manner
should have been studiedly cold and simple. This I knew perfectly well,
but I could not check the perfervid rush of my song. I ranted
deplorably, and though I closed amid fairly generous applause, no
flowers were handed up to me. The only praise I received came from
Charles Lohr, the man who had warned me against becoming a lawyer's
hack. He, meeting me in the wings of the stage as I came off, remarked
with ironic significance, "Well, that was an original piece of
business!"

This delighted me exceedingly, for I had written with special deliberate
intent to go outside the conventional grind of graduating orations.
Feeling dimly, but sincerely, the epic march of the American pioneer I
had tried to express it in an address which was in fact a sloppy poem. I
should not like to have that manuscript printed precisely as it came
from my pen, and a phonographic rec