these young men who have come from near and far to drink from this great
fount of learning, this well of wisdom."

The prayer over, the president addressed the students. He was a large,
erect man with iron-gray hair and a rugged intelligent face. Although he
was sixty years old, his body was vigorous and free from extra weight.
He spoke slowly and impressively, choosing his words with care and
enunciating them with great distinctness. His address was for the
freshmen: he welcomed them to Sanford College, to its splendid
traditions, its high ideals, its noble history. He spoke of the famous
men it numbered among its sons, of the work they had done for America
and the world, of the work he hoped future Sanford men, they, the
freshmen, would some day do for America and the world. He mentioned
briefly the boys from Sanford who had died in the World War "to make the
world safe for democracy," and he prayed that their sacrifice had not
been in vain. Finally, he spoke of the chapel service, which the
students were required to attend. He hoped that they would find
inspiration in it, knowledge and strength. He assured them that the
service would always be nonsectarian, that there would never be anything
in it to offend any one of any race, creed, or religion. With a last
exhortation to the freshmen to make the most of their great
opportunities, he ended with the announcement that they would rise and
sing the sixty-seventh hymn.

Hugh was deeply impressed by the speech but disturbed by the students.
From where he sat he got an excellent view of the juniors and seniors.
The seniors, who sat in the front of the nave, seemed to be paying
fairly good attention; but the juniors--many of them, at least--paid no
attention at all. Some of them were munching apples, some doughnuts, and
many of them were reading "The Sanford News," the college's daily paper.