Acceleration

Maurice O'Brien had the time extended at 10 p.m.—to allow two O'Briens to speak. He himself supported the students for 50 per cent. of the time and left the rest to his senior partner who, renegging on the staff, proceeded to take the threefold divisions offered by each side and multiply them out—if he had time. By a rapid shift into top gear and much mental skidding around dangerous corners in the argument, he finished in five minutes flat He must be one of the fastest speakers this side of Dunbar Sloane's.

The summing up was all that could follow this high speed forensic arithmetic: and Mr. Mclntyre had to solve Mr. McCready's dilemma before the evening was out. He did so with ease. What, had Miss Stevens found no love life at university? he asked (Mr. O'Brien had earlier wished that Miss Stevens had just been at VUC for her student days). As Mr. Mclntyre argued that he had no case to attack, he felt that the staff had been rather unfair in thus spiking his guns.

Dr. Beaglehole was moved; he was stirred; he was excited. "Almost thou persuadeth me," he said—but was unregenerately on the side of staff still.

Rev. Gardner-Scott (no Portugese he) had a pleasant little story to tell, apart from the summing up of the judge. As a Presbyterian minister, he was one out of the box. He placed Messrs. Newenham, Garrett and Mclntyre in the first places in that order: he told another story, and he ceased his delightful accent too soon.

Chairman Milburn consulted frantically with secretary Curtin: the Union Prize went to Mr. Garrett after the year's aggregate had been totalled—marking the unusual sight of an award going to a speaker who won the prise without winning a debate (six times two appears to make one). Mr. Newenham had been coming up fast into second place.