LEWISTON – Timer Tom Nesbit stared into the face of his stopwatch. Evaluator Bill Lee scribbled notes. Grammarian Ruth Marstaller counted another “um.”

All three sat around a long conference table, with a dozen others, and listened to the woman behind the lectern.

Speaker Joyce Kennedy talked about honesty and lies, making a 13-minute plea for people to tell the truth. Though strong, her voice shook as she spoke. She uttered another 29 “ums.”

This was her 10th speech. When she finished, she would be a certified Toastmaster.

It’s a milestone for the people who come here, learning to speak in public by making speeches to one another.

Twice a month, the Lewiston-Auburn Toastmasters gather in the old conference room at the Bates Mill, where the bosses of the once-thriving mill met.

Their club meetings are graciously governed: part Robert’s Rules of Order, part Emily Post etiquette.

Each meeting is run on a careful agenda. They start promptly at 6:30 p.m. with a call to order, the Pledge of Allegiance and an invocation. Then, the first order of business is a welcome to the guests.

By 6:35 p.m., it’s on to the “word of the day.” On this August evening, it’s “fructuous,” meaning fruitful or productive, just like the last Toastmasters’ meeting.

It’s a quaint bit of minutia, perhaps owing to the organization’s founding 80 years ago. Dr. Ralph C. Smedley create the club in the basement of a California YMCA. Within a few years, chapters began sprouting up.

Today, Toastmasters International has 9,300 clubs in 80 countries. About 195,000 people belong. Maine has 11 clubs. The chapter in Lewiston-Auburn has existed for 47 years.

It has remained because it’s a practical aid for folks, said Bill Lee, the local sergeant at arms. Typically, people join for a year or so, pick up hints about speaking and move on.

“They feel they’ve accomplished what they needed,” Lee said. And it’s cheaper than taking a class. Membership costs $30 every six months.

“It’s helped me tremendously,” said Lee, a supervisor at Geiger in Lewiston. After a promotion there, he was asked to make presentations. He got through them, but he wobbled a bit.

“I wanted to be better,” he said. His bosses led him to Toastmasters.

“I had no idea it was this easy,” Lee said. “My confidence level in front of people has improved. My word knowledge is higher.”

It’s that kind of transition that Kennedy is trying to make. A computer consultant, she, like Lee, needed to make presentations on the job.

Throughout her speech, timer Nesbit remained concentrated on the stopwatch. At the 10-minute mark, he reached over to a 1950s-style box, flipping a switch that illuminated a jelly-bean-sized green light. Then he held a green card in the air, a cue to Kennedy that she was nearing the end of the timed speech.

Timing, like grammar and the “ums,” are all scrutinized. To become certified, a person must make a variety of speeches. People who wish can keep going to other levels: advanced Toastmaster in bronze, silver and gold and distinguished Toastmaster.

Above Nesbit a handmade sign listed 13 names and their goals. It was stuck to the wall using “Hello, My Name is” stickers.

At 13 minutes, Nesbit’s green light turned white and Kennedy ended her speech. It was met with loud applause. The accomplishment was palpable.

Kennedy returned to her seat and began fanning herself with the pages of her speech, as though cooling off from a tough workout.

Finally, she was a certified Toastmaster.