the next day was commencement.

a brief, informal session was held in the morning, but it was a session from which none wished to be absent, for then the names of the prize-winners were to be announced.

there were many anxious hearts, and a few hopeful ones, for though the rank-list read the day before told each boy his standing in class, it did not settle the matter of the prize scholarships.

it is safe to say that only one boy grudged stanley clark the first rank that he had so fairly won by his steady, thorough work. that boy was everett st. john. he would not have been present at all, that morning, but for the latin essays. he had still a lingering hope that his might be adjudged the best.

but now mr. horton was writing on the blackboard, and every boy gazed eagerly forward to read what was written. in his clear hand, they read the names of the six colleges offering the scholarships. then, with the chalk in his fingers, he faced the school.

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“you all heard the rank-list read yesterday,” he said, “so you know that clark, st. john and gordon would have the first claim on the second, third and fourth of these scholarships, but as these three are to enter other colleges, these scholarships go to the next in rank, graham, griffin and bent; the two last named being members, as you know, of section a.

“the last two scholarships on the list have, i am happy to say, been won by girls. and now there remains but one—the first—which will be awarded to the boy whose latin thesis has been considered by the judges to be the best. that thesis i hold in my hand, but i do not know what name it bears, as it was handed to me in this sealed envelope.”

every eye watched as he tore open the envelope and read the name of stanley clark, and hearty cheers expressed the satisfaction of his classmates at the result.

as soon as he could secure silence, mr. horton went on:—

“the judges desire me to say that they have awarded the prize to stanley clark because of the high character of his essay, and they also wish me to state that, in elegance of style and choice of words, the essay submitted by everett st. john is decidedly superior.”

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it was clark who led applause for st. john, but the latter only scowled in response to it. his pride and ambition were too bitterly hurt to appreciate any expression of kindly feeling.

“there is one more prize to be given this year,” mr. horton went on, taking a small case from his desk. “it is a gold medal which has never been given before, but the donor has made it a perpetual gift from this time. it is to be given to the boy in the senior class who has made the greatest advance in moral character during the year. of course, we can only judge from what we see, and therefore this is the most difficult prize to award; so you, to whom the decision is left, must think carefully before you decide. this is to be awarded by vote of the class. i should have added that, by express desire of the gentleman who gives this prize, it is to be, this year, awarded to some member of section d. after this year, it is not to be so limited.”

the boys looked wonderingly at one another. they did not quite like the responsibility laid upon them.

“may i speak to some of the boys, sir?” clark asked, and as mr. horton gave assent, he quickly turned to hamlin, and whispered:—

“i think crawford ought to have it, don’t you?”

“yes,” said hamlin, promptly. “i had thought of freeman, but though he has improved immensely[269] this year, he hasn’t made such a jump as crawford, because he never got so far down.”

“and i’m sure it will help crawford to know how we feel about it,” suggested clark.

from one to another the suggestion passed, and, when mr. horton called for the decision, it was almost an unanimous one for crawford. he was taken utterly by surprise. not one thought of the possibility of its being awarded to him had entered his mind, and he was prepared to vote most heartily for freeman; but he was honestly pleased to know that his efforts to “do the square thing,” as he would have expressed it, had been appreciated, and that shining gold medal was a constant incentive to fresh effort thereafter. it was many a year before he discovered that it was his stern guardian, mr. chase, who had given this prize, earnestly hoping that crawford would be the winner.

the commencement exercises were held in the evening in one of the largest opera-houses.

never had the decorations on such an occasion been so beautiful as this year, for never before had so many outside friends lent a helping hand. there was gordon’s father, so proud that the old high school was regaining its old reputation, and so proud and happy because of the share his boy had had in bringing this about; and there was reed’s father, who was but too happy to spend some of his[270] abundant means to make the occasion a memorable one, not only for his own boy’s sake, but also for the sake of stanley clark, whom he had taken right into his big heart. and, by the way, he had carried matters with a high hand, and when he made arrangements for his boy at yale, he had made arrangements for stanley clark to go with him, and no refusals would he listen to for a moment. clark had been obliged to give in, and accept the generous provision, though he did it with a mental vow that he would pay it all back one of these days.

then there was mr. chase, who was so relieved and delighted at the improvement in his ward, that he, too, insisted on “lending a hand” at these commencement arrangements. and so it happened that no graduating class had ever had such beautiful decorations, such perfect stacks of flowers, or such fine music as graced this occasion.

and it was clark who, much against his will, delivered the oration for the class. he did his best to get out of it, declaring that it should be given by gordon, or hamlin or st. john; but it was clark himself that his classmates now delighted to honor, and it seemed as if they could not do enough to make up to him for what was past.

his story had spread through the school, and he was the unanimous choice of the senior class, so there was no escape for him, and he was obliged to be the orator of the evening.

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he performed his duty well, as was testified by the applause that followed, and so many floral tributes were sent to the stage, that reed laughingly told him that he’d have to hire an express wagon to “tote ’em home.”

but the boy’s glad eyes sought out the spot where his mother sat with a tall man beside her, a man whose strong, noble face bore the marks of the sufferings of the past years.

when it was whispered about that clark’s father was there, every boy was wild to see him, and not one who looked into his face that night but felt that he was a father to be proud of.

the exercises were over at last. the address to the graduating class had been made by an eminent lawyer. the diplomas had been received with more or less grace and ease, or more or less shyness and awkwardness.

“rosy” had distinguished himself by darting out of the line, as the boys passed forward to receive their diplomas, and picking up grace harlan’s handkerchief, which he presented to her with his most fascinating smile.

then the benediction closed the exercises, and in a burst of martial music from the orchestra, the crowd began to disperse.

but the boys of section d lingered still. they realized now that they could never be all together[272] again, and mr. horton, as he clasped one after another by the hand, found it harder to say “good-bye” to this than to any class he had ever before taught.

“i am afraid i shall dread to go back next year,” he said, holding hamlin’s hand, while he laid his arm affectionately across clark’s shoulders. “you boys are going into new scenes, and you will soon forget the old high school, but i shall be there with all new faces. boys—you don’t know how i am going to miss you.”

they crowded about him then, realizing, as they had not done before, how real and true was his interest in them—his friendship for them—realizing, too, that the great days of our lives, though full of sunshine, have yet their shadows.

but they were boys, strong, healthy, happy boys, and life was all before them, with ever new heights to reach, new prizes to win, and no shadow could rest long on their young hearts on that glad day.

in the years that followed they made no mean record in college and in the world, and often mr. horton would read with a happy smile of what one and another of his boys—the boys of section d—had accomplished out in the great world.