The farmers began to talk about him, and to remark to each other what a wonderful talent for business he possessed, and what a pleasant-speaking young gentleman he was.

The applause was well earned, for probably there is no duller or more monotonous work than that of attending Boards which never declare dividends.

He next appeared at the farmers' club, at first as a mere spectator, and next, though with evident diffidence, as a speaker.
Marthorne was no orator; he felt when he stood up to speak an odd sensation in the throat, as if the glottis had contracted.

He was, in fact, very nervous, and for the first two or three sentences had not the least idea what he had said.

But he forced himself to say it--his will overruled his physical weakness.