The
appointed time came. Matson was the first to read his production.
Osborne came next; and his piece was much better than Matson's. Ralph
noticed two or three blemishes, but pointed out many beauties in it.
Next it was Ralph's turn to read. "I am sorry to confess that I have
nothing to read; but I promise to atone for this failure by doing my
part faithfully in future."
"Poets ought to be ready at any time," remarked Osborne humorously,
looking at Ralph.
"It is in order for them to fail sometimes, I think," replied Ralph;
"especially if they are not _born_ poets."
"Well, Ben, we must have yours, then. You will not disappoint us."
"I think you must excuse me this time," Benjamin answered, feigning an
unwillingness to read.
"No, Ben, no excuse for you," said Osborne. "You have it written; I
saw it in your hand."
"That is true; but after listening to such fine productions as we have
heard, I am not ambitious to read mine. I think I must correct it, and
dress it up a little before I submit it for criticism."
"That was not in the arrangement, Ben, when you suggested the
exercise," remarked Ralph.
"You are prepared, and, of course, we shall not excuse you."
After much bantering and urging, Benjamin proceeded to read his,
apparently with much diffidence; and all listened with profound
attention.
"You must read that again," said Osborne, when he finished reading it.
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