Grammar School came across a man public-spirited enough to call their
head master a silly ass, and they showed their appreciation in no
uncertain manner. Gussie may have been one over the eight, but as far as
the majority of those present were concerned he was sitting on top of the
world.
"Boys," said Gussie, "I mean ladies and gentlemen and boys, I do not
detain you long, but I suppose on this occasion to feel compelled to say
a few auspicious words; Ladies--and boys and gentlemen--we have all
listened with interest to the remarks of our friend here who forgot to
shave this morning--I don't know his name, but then he didn't know
mine--Fitz-Wattle, I mean, absolutely absurd--which squares things up a
bit--and we are all sorry that the Reverend What-ever-he-was-called should
be dying of adenoids, but after all, here today, gone tomorrow, and all
flesh is as grass, and what not, but that wasn't what I wanted to say.
What I wanted to say was this--and I say it confidently--without fear of
contradiction--I say, in short, I am happy to be here on this auspicious
occasion and I take much pleasure in kindly awarding the prizes,
consisting of the handsome books you see laid out on that table. As
Shakespeare says, there are sermons in books, stones in the running
brooks, or, rather, the other way about, and there you have it in a
nutshell."
It went well, and I wasn't surprised. I couldn't quite follow some of it,
but anybody could see that it was real ripe stuff, and I was amazed that
even the course of treatment he had been taking could have rendered so
normally tongue-tied a dumb brick as Gussie capable of it.
It just shows, what any member of Parliament will tell you, that if you
want real oratory, the preliminary noggin is essential. Unless pie-eyed,
you cannot hope to grip.
"Gentlemen," said Gussie, "I mean ladies and gentlemen and, of course,
boys, what a beautiful world this is. A beautiful world, full of
happiness on every side. Let me tell you a little story. Two Irishmen,
Pat and Mike, were walking along Broadway, and one said to the other,
'Begorrah, the race is not always to the swift,' and the other replied,
'Faith and begob, education is a drawing out, not a putting in.'"
I must say it seemed to me the rottenest story I had ever heard, and I
was surprised that Jeeves should have considered it worth while shoving
into a speech. However, when I taxed him with this later, he said that
Gussie had altered the plot a good deal, and I dare say that accounts for
it.
At any rate, that was the _conte_ as Gussie told it, and when I say that
it got a very fair laugh, you will understand what a popular favourite he
had become with the multitude. There might be a bearded bloke or so on
the platform and a small section in the second row who were wishing the
speaker would conclude his remarks and resume his seat, but the audience
as a whole was for him solidly.
There was applause, and a voice cried: "Hear, hear!"
"Yes," said Gussie, "it is a beautiful world. The sky is blue, the birds
are singing, there is optimism everywhere. And why not, boys and ladies
and gentlemen? I'm happy, you're happy, we're all happy, even the meanest
Irishman that walks along Broadway. Though, as I say, there were two of
them--Pat and Mike, one drawing out, the other putting in. I should like