The mayor of the village, in delivering the prize to the author of it, made a warm speech in which he said that it was by far the most "eloquent" thing he had ever listened to, and that Daniel Webster himself might well be proud of it.
It may be remarked, in passing, that the number of compositions in which the word "beauteous" was over-fondled, and human experience referred to as "life's page," was up to the usual average.
Now the master, mellow almost to the verge of geniality, put his chair aside, turned his back to the audience, and began to draw a map of America on the blackboard, to exercise the geography class upon.

But he made a sad business of it with his unsteady hand, and a smothered titter rippled over the house.

He knew what the matter was, and set himself to right it.

He sponged out lines and remade them; but he only distorted them more than ever, and the tittering was more pronounced.
He threw his entire attention upon his work, now, as if determined not to be put down by the mirth.

He felt that all eyes were fastened upon him; he imagined he was succeeding, and yet the tittering continued; it even manifestly increased.