Jephson--yes, he's the same good Jephson who wouldn't exchange my
button-stick for a Field-Marshal's baton--Jephson brought in my
morning tea and laid across the foot of my bed a bundle of newspapers
as thick as a bolster.
I sat up, reached for them and began to read almost as soon as he
switched on the light. I was honestly nervous.
I took the hostile papers first, of course. Pretty soon it began
to dawn on my grateful soul that all was right with the world.
The reporters had stood shoulder to shoulder. Two or three headlines
gave me a shake. "BRISK SCENES ACROSS THE WATER," "MR. FARRELL
SPEAKS OUT," "AN INTERRUPTER EJECTED." One headline in particular
gave me qualms--"WHAT'S WRONG WITH SILVERSMITH'S COLLEGE? PUBLIC
ENDOWMENT WITHOUT PUBLIC CONTROL: MR. FARRELL PUTS SOME SEARCHING
QUESTIONS." But it had all been toned down in the letterpress and
came to very little. The reporters, using their own discretion, had
used such phrases as "An interrupter, apparently labouring under some
excitement," "At this point a gentleman in the front row caused a
diversion by challenging .
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