Thrice Wedded, but Only Once a Wife — page 87: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

48 THRICE WEDDED. It was commencement day! That day so dreaded, while at the same time it possesses a strange fascination to every one who attains the position of a graduate. The examination exercises of the few days past had passed | off satisfactorily alike to professor and pupil: and now the last day of all, the great day, had arrived, that was to give to the class of faithful students, the honors they had so valiantly battled for, and so bravely won! ‘The orations were delivered, the diplomas given, and each and all had performed his allotted part except the vale- dictorian. The band in attendance suddenly sent forth a burst of rich triumphant music, as if proclaiming the victory of one who had won the first honors through all his college course, -and who now was about to be crowned victor and con- queror! ~The music ceased, and the crowd sat in almost breathless silence, awaiting the appearance of the hero of the day. He came and bowed low and gracefully, was greeted with a burst of enthusiastic applause, and—our friend Robert El- lerton stands before us. 3 He it is, who by hard labor, and close application, has borne off the highest prize, who has taken the first place in all his classes, and now stands before an anxiously waiting audience, with the first honor of the day, to deliver the vale- dictory! It is delivered in the German language, and as his voice - rises clear and deep, floating over that vast assembly, and filling every niche and corner of that grand edifice, nota Tp tier ate Sigh 2 a ee ase ah aie ae * Vtg “ es Wight a ae Said > PS oo tes vi | * rt ye *e. S53 : ay 4 - rad Ligon’ : is as . a aac! eC ait Paes, SS Iie paren See 4 Rs ee FH Nd as 3 » is hy * at movement is made; not a whisper heard; scarcely a breath - drawn; and as the young orator gradually loses himself in . his theme, and mounts higher and higher, carrying every listener with him, it seems almost as if the hush of death was on the air, or as if every living, breathing form. of a few moments before, had turned to sculptured mar- bie! | Oh, what a tribute is such breathless silence to eloquence! Who can ask for more? Who would wish for more? For an hour the thrall was upon them, and when our hero resumed his seat, shout after shout rose up from the throats of the multitude. and rent the air with their bursts _. Of approbation and praise. Handkerchiefs were waved, and hands were clapped, while a few of the more aristocratic “> comicbooks