had formed. Some nights he could be seen stealing away from the
congressman's residence. On others he could be seen leaving the
neighborhood of the school, with a spade in one hand and a few
carpenter's tools in the other.

He went to the congressman, who was a polished orator with a national
reputation, in order that he might purge his oration from its
impurities of speech. As the congressman read the oration and
perceived the depth of thought, the logical arrangement, the beauty
and rhythm of language, and the wide research displayed, he opened his
eyes wide with astonishment. He was amazed that a young man of such
uncommon talents could have grown up in his town and he not know it.
Belton's marvelous talents won his respect and admiration, and he gave
him access to his library and criticized his oration whenever needed.

Secretly and silently preparations went on for the grand conflict. At
last the day came. The colored men and women of the place laid aside
all work to attend the exercises. The forward section of seats was
reserved for the white people. The congressman, the mayor, the school
trustees and various other men of standing came, accompanied by their
wives and daughters.

Scholars of various grades had parts to perform on the programme, but
the eyes of all sought the bottom of the page where were printed the
names of the two oratorical gladiators:

"BELTON PIEDMONT.
BERNARD BELGRAVE."

The teacher had given Bernard the last place, deeming that the more