"Boys," said the principal, "I sat up till twelve o'clock last evening, examining your papers. I have not only ascertained² who are entitled to the two prizes, but I have made a list of the ten highest scholars, with their percentages. I am glad to say that many of you have done well, and I regret that I have not more prizes to bestow³. I will now announce the names of the prize boys."

 

"First prize—Benjamin Bradford." "Second prize—Sam Archer⁴."

 

The boys applauded noisily.

 

"Bradford's percentage," continued the principal, "is ninety-nine and eight-tenths; Archer's, ninety-seven and nine-tenths. Both are very high and I heartily⁵ congratulate both young gentlemen upon their brilliant success. Bradford, you may come up to the desk."

 

Mr. Taylor placed in his hands a neat edition of Longfellow's poems.

 

"Thank you, sir," said Ben.

 

The boys again applauded.

 

"Archer, you may come up," said the principal.

 

Sam rose slowly, and with a discontented look shuffled⁶ up to the desk. An edition of Tennyson's poems was handed to him. He received them without a word of thanks and hurried back to his seat.

 

There was no applause in his case.

 

This was the last day of school, and the session lasted but an hour and a half. At half-past ten the boys poured out of the schoolhouse with noisy demonstrations

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