Thomas Alva Edison will now speak to the boys and girls of
America through his constant associate and devoted friend, Mr. William
H. Meadowcroft."
There was a slight pause. The silence in the hall was most impressive.
Bill cast his eyes for a brief moment over the waiting throng. There was
in the eager faces, some almost wofully serious, some half-smiling, all
wide-eyed and with craning necks, a tremendous indication of an almost
breathless interest. Then, from the horn came slow and measured accents
in a loud voice, perhaps a trifle tremulous from a proper feeling of the
gravity of the occasion, but it was perfectly distinct:
"Young people, I--"
"_That's_ Bill--hello, Bill Medders--when did _you_------?"
And the startled company, staring about, saw Mr. Hooper stumbling
forward in the aisle toward the trumpet.
"You win, me lads, you--"
Bill Brown could not help laughing at the impetuous honesty of his kind
old friend. Pointing to the horn, and placing his hand like a shell
behind his own ear, the amused boy signed to the excited old man to
listen.
"The old geezer looks like 'His Master's Voice,' don't he?" came like a
sneer from the background.
During the pandemonium, the voice in the trumpet was proceeding quite
unperturbed.
"Silence!" shouted Bill, looking severely in the direction of the "seat
of the scornful." "All please listen in on this. Mr. Meadowcroft is
speaking.
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