 Well said. Well done. That's the reason she's the president. We're going to do course now. Lauren is a very special gentleman. Montana State University president. A president. Professor. I saw one that was out of corner of my mind. MSU professor. Astronaut. And president of the President of the Library of Foundation. We're going to have an opportunity to see. I'm just going to read from Paquela Montibert. Thank you, Susan, for picking up for me the book which was the cover of the program. Paquela Montibert. How many people here have read Paquela Montibert? It's very good. I'm not surprised. You will remember that this book is set in the south in 1935. The narrator is a girl about eight years old. The narrator's brother is a guy named Jim who's a few years older. The narrator's father is Adakus, who is a lawyer. Adakus has been designated by the judge who is a defending attorney for a black man accused of rape. Thereby names the tale. Now, what I'm about to read is plagiarized from a report, an essay I found on the internet by a fellow named Nicholas Butler who did a lot of research in this banning of this book. And I'll just read a rephrased part of this report. Paquela Montibert is set in a small town in Alabama in 1935. It has been troublesome ever since Carpenter Lee's novels stormed the literary world in 1960 early in the Civil Rights Movement. With thousands of attempts to ban the book from classroom or curriculum use as well as libraries. Chapter 7, Scout, otherwise known as Jane Louise, speaking or shouting or screaming. You can just take that back, boy! This order given by me to Cecil Jacobs was the beginning of a rather thin time for Jim and me. My fists were clenched until I was ready to let fly. Adakus had promised me he would wear me out if he ever heard of me fighting any more. Scout was a talk boy. I was far too old and too big for such childish things and the sooner I learned to hold in the better off everybody would be. I soon forgot. Cecil Jacobs made me forget. He had announced in the schoolyard the day before that Scout Finch's daddy defended Negros. I denied it but told Jim, what he mean, say a man, I asked. Jim said, ask Adakus, he'll tell you. Do you defend Negros, Adakus, I ask you that evening? Of course I do. Don't say Negros Scout, that's common. That's what everybody at school says. From now on, it'll be everybody less one. If you grow up talking that way, why do you send me to school? My father looked at me mildly. He was with me in his eyes. Despite our compromise, my campaign to avoid school had continued in one form or another since my first day's dulcet, the beginning of last September, had brought on sinking spells, dizziness, and mild gastric complaints. I went so far as to pay a nickel for the privilege of rubbing my head against the head of Miss Rachel's cook's son, who was afflicted with a tremendous ringworm. It didn't take long. But I was worrying another moment. Do all lawyers defend Negros, Adakus? Of course they do, Scout. Then why did Cecil say you defended Negros? He made it sound like you were around the still. Adakus sighed. I'm simply defending Adi Negros. His name's Tom Robinson. He lives in that little settlement beyond the town dump. He's a member of Calperius Church in Caldosa's family well. She says they're clean living folks. Scout, you weren't old enough to understand some things yet. But there's been some high talk around town to the effect that I shouldn't do much about defending this man. It's a peculiar case. It won't come to trial until summer session. Tom Taylor was kind enough to give us a postponement. If you shouldn't be defending him, then why are you doing it? For a number of reasons said Adakus. The main one is if I didn't, I couldn't hold up my head. I couldn't represent this county in the legislature. I couldn't even tell you or Jim not to do something again.