“Oh, I know beforehand you will get the prize!  And I wish you joy of it, my dear fellow!” whispered Walter.

“Oh, no, I am sure I shall not!  You will get it!  You will see!” replied Ishmael.

Walter shook his head incredulously.  But as the reading proceeded Walter looked surprised, then perplexed, and then utterly confounded.  Finally he turned and inquired: 

“Ish., what the mischief is the old fellow doing with your composition?  He is reading it all wrong.”

“He is reading just what is written, I suppose,” replied Ishmael.

“But he isn’t, I tell you!  I ought to know, for I have read it myself, you remember! and I assure you he makes one or two mistakes in every paragraph!  The fact is, I do not believe he knows much of Greek, and he will just ruin us both by reading our compositions in that style!” exclaimed Walter.

“He is reading mine aright,” persisted Ishmael.

And before Walter could reply again, the perusal of Ishmael’s thesis was finished, the paper was laid upon the table, and Walter’s thesis was taken up.

“Now then; I wonder if he is going to murder mine in the same manner,” said Walter.

The reader commenced and went on smoothly to the end without having miscalled a word or a syllable.

“That is a wonder; I do not understand it at all!” said young Middleton.

Ishmael smiled; but did not reply.

Professor Adams rapped upon the table and called the school to order; and then, still retaining Walter’s thesis in his hand, he said: 

“Ihe highest prize in the gift of the examiners—­the gold watch—­is awarded to the author of the thesis I hold in my hand.  The young gentleman will please to declare himself, walk forward, and receive the reward.”

“There, Walter! what did I tell you?  I wish you joy now, old fellow!  There! ‘go where glory awaits you,’” smilingly whispered Ishmael.

“I understand it all now, Ish.!  I fully understand it!  But I will not accept the sacrifice, old boy,” replied Walter.

“Will the young gentleman who is the author of the prize thesis step up and be invested with this watch?” rather impatiently demanded the wearied Professor Adams.

Walter Middleton arose in his place.

“I am the author of the thesis last read; but I am not entitled to the prize; there has been a mistake.”

“Walter!” exclaimed his father, in a tone of rebuke.

The examiners looked at the young speaker in surprise, and at each other in perplexity.

“Excuse me, father; excuse me, gentlemen; but there has been a serious mistake, which I hope to prove to you, and which I know you would not wish me to profit by,” persisted the youth modestly, but firmly.

“Don’t, now, Walter! hush, sit down,” whispered Ishmael in distress.

“I will,” replied young Middleton firmly.

“Walter, come forward and explain yourself; you certainly owe these gentlemen both an explanation and an apology for your unseemly interruption of their proceedings and your presumptuous questioning of their judgment,” said Mr. Middleton.