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It is desirable that you should let me know as soon as possible what pieces you have selected, that they may be printed on the programme. This note reached Fletcher at a time when he was still smarting from his disappointment in obtaining promotion from the Clionian Society. He read it with a flushed and triumphant face. He never thought of questioning its genuineness.
"Printing is a department of literature, and the Clionian is a literary society, isn't it?" "Of course it is a literary society, but a printer's devil is not literary." "He's as literary as a tin-pedler," said Tom Carver, maliciously. Fletcher turned red, but managed to say, "And what does that prove?" "We don't object to you because you are connected with the tin business."
Apparently they were willing to let him go. He rose from his seat mortified and wrathful. "Gentlemen," he said, "you have complied with my request, and I am deeply grateful. I no longer consider it an honor to belong to the Clionian. I trust your new President may succeed as well in his new office as he has in the capacity of a printer's devil."
A week later Harry Walton received the following note: "Centreville, May 16th, 18 , "Dear Sir: At the last meeting of the Clionian Society you were elected a member. The next meeting will be held on Thursday evening, in the Academy building. "Yours truly, "GEORGE SANBORN, "Secretary. Our hero read this letter with satisfaction.
The examination took place about the tenth of June, and a vacation followed, lasting till the first day of September. Of course, the Clionian Society, which was composed of Academy students, suspended its meetings for the same length of time.
He had fancied that it would sound well to put "Secretary of the Clionian Society" after his name, and would give him increased consequence at home. As to the tin-pedler, it would have relieved his mind to hear that Mr. Bickford had been carried off suddenly by an apoplectic fit, and notwithstanding the tie of kindred, he would not have taken the trouble to put on mourning in his honor.
About the first of November, Fitzgerald Fletcher left the Prescott Academy, and returned to his home in Boston. It was not because he had finished his education, but because he felt that he was not appreciated by his fellow-students. He had been ambitious to be elected to an official position in the Clionian Society, but his aspirations were not gratified.
"Thank you, Professor," said Harry. "Don't compliment me too much, or I may become vain, and put on airs." "If you do, I'll get Fitz to call, and remind you that you are only a printer's devil, after all." Not long after his election as a member of the Clionian Society, the summer term of the Prescott Academy closed.
Had he been elected to either position, the Clionian would probably have retained his illustrious name upon its roll. But as these honors were conferred upon other members, he formed the heroic resolution no longer to remain a member. "Mr. President," he said, when the last vote was announced, "I desire to terminate my connection with this Society." "I hope Mr.
And Oscar was right. On Thursday evening the main school of the Academy building was lighted up, and groups of boys, varying in age from thirteen to nineteen, were standing in different parts of the room. These were members of the Clionian Society, whose weekly meeting was about to take place.
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