his struggle to stay aloft, slipped, grasped desperately at the air and crashed to the floor!
The audience, every eye riveted upon the stage, gasped. Then they roared with laughter.
Rising to his feet, Harold turned and faced the sea of mirthful faces and loud guffaws. He stood bewildered for an instant. Then he whirled around and started to rush off the stage. In his haste he upset the water pitcher resting near by on the table. His suitcase came unfastened and its contents spread over the stage.
Even when he at last attained the haven of the wings, it developed that Harold was not to be let off so easily. The shouts of laughter and catcalls from the auditorium were still ringing as stout arms grabbed him.
"Aren't you going to stay and make a speech?" sounded the voice of Sheldon in Harold's blushing ears.
"You'll have to say a few words of greeting to the student body," suavely interpolated another Sophomore. "It's a custom. You'll be unpopular if you don't. See—these Freshmen are all anxious to go out and talk." He pointed to a group of ten or more white-faced youths, obviously green and scared to death. They were herded together back stage and
