As was usual at Temple Camp festivities, the affair began with three
resounding cheers for Uncle Jeb, followed by vociferous appeals for a
speech. Uncle Jeb's speeches were an institution at camp. Slowly
dragging himself to his feet, he sprawled over to the front of the
platform and said in his drawling way:

"I don't know as thar's anything I got ter say. We've come out t'the
end of our trail, en' next season I hope we'll see the same faces
here. You ain't been a bad lot this year. I've seen wuss. I never
seed a crowd that ate so much. I reckon none uv yer hez got homes
and yer wuz all starved when yer come.

"Yer made more noise this season than anything I ever heard outside
a Arizona cyclone. (Laughter) You've been noisy enough ter make a
thunder-shower sound like a Indian lullaby. (Roars)

"If these here honor badges thet Mister Temple is goin' ter hand
out'll keep yer quiet, I wish thar wuz more uv them. As the feller
says, speech is silver and silence is gold, so I'm for gold awards
every time. Onct I asked Buffalo Bill what wuz th' main thing fer a
scout n' he says _silence_. (Uproarious laughter) So I reckon th'
best kind uv a boy scout is one that's deaf and dumb, but I ain't
never seen none at this camp. I guess they don't make that kind.

"I wish yer all good luck and I congratulate you youngsters that are
getting awards. If yer all got your just deserts----"

"I get three helpings," came a voice from somewhere in the audience. It
was the voice of Pee-wee Harris. "I get _my_ just desserts!"