00 #2/ £ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 027 249 428 9 Hollinger Corp. pH 8.5 FN 4121 .B5 Copy 1 ESS( JG •"* Fifty Practical Lessons IN Reading and Public Speaking A-,: By E: FRANKLIN BIDDLE Department of English and Public Speaking. South Western State Normal School, California, Pa. PITTSBURGH PRINTING COMPANY PITTSBURGH, PA. 1913 .Bs Copyright, 1913 by Elvertus Franklin Biddle ©CI.A358105 £ i r to Part One. The Lesson i. Lesson 2. Lesson 3. Lesson 4. Lesson 5. ' Lesson 6. Lesson 7. Lesson 8. Lesson 9. Lesson 10. Lesson 11. Lesson 12. Lesson 13. Lesson 14. Lesson 15. Lesson 16. Contents Page Mechanics of Speech and Natural Expression. Bodily Development . . . ., 11 Correct Breathing . . . • 12 Vowel Sounds 13 Consonants • , 15 Syllables •.. 16 Accent . . . . , 17 Articulation 19 Pronunciation ....... • 23 Aesthetic Physical Culture . ., 24 Gesture ......... . . . . 26 The Sentence • . .1 . ., 30 Grouping . . . ... ..,...• 31 Succession of Ideas . , 33 The Central Idea and Word Prominence ... 37 Subordination 38 Naturalness, Conversation, The Colloquial . . 40 Part Two. Vocal Culture and Technique Useful as a Founda- tion for Common Reading . ..., 63 Lesson 17. Force . . • 65 Lesson 18. The Three Modes of Utterance. Effusive. .1 67 Lesson 19. Expulsive Utterance and the Orotund 69 Lesson 2a Explosive Utterance . . 72 Lesson 21. Pitch , 72 Lesson 22. Purity of Tone and Brilliancy ............ j6 Lesson 23. Variety in Intonation and Force- 79 Lesson 24. Resonance . ... . ..• 81 Lesson 25. Vocal Energy , 83 Lesson 2& Volume ........ 84 Lesson 27. Common Reading . ;,. ., 86 Part Three. Emphasis, and the Delivery of Orations. 99 Lesson 28. Emphasis of Force (Stress) 101 Lesson 29. Emphasis of the Slide ... ., 105 Lesson 30. Emphasis of Time^ — Quantity • ill Lesson 31. Pause ,. .. . , 112 Reading and Public Speaking. Page Lesson 32. Movement . . . • 114 Lesson 33. Emphasis of Quality 117 Lesson 34. Emphasis of Pitch . . . 122 Lesson 35. Climax • 126 Lesson 36. The Delivery of Orations , 127 Part Four. Interpretation of Literature • 145 Lesson 37. Thought and Emotion in Expression- 147 Lesson 38. Various States of Feeling or Emotion 148 Lesson 39. Appeals Made to the Senses by Different Ob- jects, and Picturing • 150 Lesson 40- Spontaneity • 154 Lesson 41. Concentration • 156 Lesson 42. Contrasts 158 Lesson 43. Values . . . • 163 Lesson 44. Analysis 164 Lesson 45. Atmosphere • 165 Lessons 46-50. Illustrative Selections pages 166-186 Index of Authors and Selections Page The Burial of Moses — Mrs. Cecil Francis Alexander 185 The Freshman — B. F. Biddle 42 How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix — Browning 115 Impeachment of Warren Hastings — Burke . . 70 Old Chums — Alice Cary 51 Grattan's Reply to Mr. Corry — Henry Grattan 139 The Call to Arms — Patrick Henry 128 The Ride of Ichabod Crane — Irving 90 Endymion — Longfellow 168 The Launching of the Ship' — Longfellow 122 Miles Standish Encounter with the Indians — Longfellow 36 Hymn to the Night — Longfellow 184 The Old Clock on the Stair — Longfellow 169 The Rainy Day — Longfellow 169 Address at the Dedication of Gettysburg Cemetery — Lincoln. . 133 The King of Denmark's Ride — Caroline Norton 163 From Oration on the Centennial of the Birth of O'Connell — Wendell Phillips 136 Annabel Lee — B. A. Poe JJ The Bells— B. A. Poe 81 The South Wind and the Sun— Riley 181 Boat Song— Scott 85 Hamlet's Instructions to the Players — Shakespeare 88 Hamlet's Second Soliloquy — Shakespeare 73 Scene from King Henry IV. — Shakespeare 60 The Cloud— Shelley 180 Break, Break, Break — Tennyson 179 Choric Song — Tennyson • 159 From Maud — Tennyson 166 Edward Gray — Tennyson 178 The First Quarrel — Tennyson 177 Song of the Brook — Tennyson 154 Crossing the Bar — Tennyson 186 A Plea for Cuba, — Thurston 131 Darius Green and His Flying-Machine — Trowbridge 173 6 Reading and Public Speaking. Page Semi-Centennial Speech of Battle of Gettysburg — Woodrow Wilson 134 A Great Record of Bad Luck 171 A Laughing Song 184 Jump-Off-Joe S6 Courtship Under Difficulties 56 A Pair of Lunatics • . . . . 53 The Bald Headed Man 172 Pillar Rock • : 89 The Elder Brother , 94 Introduction An attempt has been made in this volume to formulate a series of lessons that will cover the field of Reading and Public Speaking in a methodical manner, and, with this aim in view, the lessons are arranged for the purpose of accomplish- ing a certain definite result at the close of each part of the book. Part One considers the fundamentals, such as correct breathing, proper vowel sounds, distinct enunciation of the consonants, and the right pronunciation of words. The me- chanical operations necessary in the formation of the sentence then gives way to gesture, the first manifestation of the thought, correct grouping and thought values in individual sentences, and, finally, the comprehension of the thought is succeeded by the lesson on natural, conversational, or colloquial reading, the touchstone for the artistic rendition of all forms of speech. Part Two is concerned with Purity and Variety in tone, which, added to the skill gained in the manipulation of the vocal organs, together with the due consideration of the in- herent thought of the sentence in Part One, should enable the pupil to read common reading and to utter ordinary speech with intelligent thought interpretation and pleasing intonation. Part Three considers emphasis as obtained through change of force, inflection, pitch, movement, pause, and feeling, to- gether with climax and other elements that enter into the rendition of the more dignified forms of public address, like the delivering of orations. Part Four considers elements that enter into the inter- pretation of literature where thought and emotion are ex- pressed through the medium of poetry or imaginative prose. It is hoped that a unity of purpose and a completeness of design may be manifest, and that the volume may be found valuable both for individual and class-room instruction. It is undoubtedly true that art is suffering in these prac- tical days from lack of attention and absence of due apprecia- tion. However, the fact must be faced, and our practical age must be given the instruction that it demands for reaching its goal, efficiency. With the multiplicity of subjects clamor- ing for recognition and attention in our higher institutions of learning, the time for the study of artistic elocution is mort or less restricted. Surely, the main consideration is to give the pupil a foundation for reading and speaking that will enable him to express his ideas in a comprehensive and impressive manner. Never before has there been a time more opportune for the average man to impress his personality upon his fellows 8 Reading and Pvblic Speaking. by means of speech. It is the recognition of the duty that our educational institutions owe to the youth in preparing him for his life's work, and placing in his reach the cultivation of his powers of self expression through effective speech that is lead- ing our High Schools, Normal Schools, Colleges and Univer- sities to incorporate into their curricula courses in practical Public Speaking, and demanding trained teachers for instruc- tors in this most important subject. The next decade should entirely change the attitude of educators of the past which led to the incorporation of the department of Public Speaking in the department of Biology, or other such ludicrous combina- tions. Perhaps the question will solve itself within two or more decades by the elimination of such educational institutions that cannot afford to adjust their departments properly, or by the elimination from our educational ranks of such educators as persist in clinging to such antiquated notions of departmental adjustment. Though the spirit of our times is avowedly practical, it must not be forgotten that Speech is the "Art of Arts," and must not be degraded by placing it entirely upon a practical basis. It is the art in speech that raises our thoughts above the earth, and brings to us the breath of heaven. The author desires to acknowledge his indebtedness to Hough- ton Mifflin & Co., for permission to use selections from Long- fellow's works, and likewise to Edgar S. Werner & Co., for material from "Readings and Recitations." E. F. Biddle. PART ONE. The Mechanics of Speech, ana Natural Expression. Reading and Public Speaking. u LESSON I. BODILY DEVELOPMENT. Gymnastic and calisthenic exercises are invaluable aids to the culture and development of the voice. Physical exercises adapted to the expansion of the chest and to the freedom of circulation serves to impart energy and glow to the muscular apparatus of voice, and clearness to its sound. A physical basis must be laid before one can acquire a voice suitable for public speaking, and, therefore, the mastery of exercises in physical culture is an absolute prerequisite to the attainment of a good voice. The public speaker must render strict obedience to the laws for general health, and care should be taken as to daily physical exercise, bathing, fresh air, sleep, food, and clothing. Vigorous, not violent exercise should be taken. Games in which the mind is not conscious of the exercise are most beneficial. In this category may be mentioned rowing, fenc- ing, sparring, tennis and the bicycle. Exercises with gym- nasium appliances such as Indian clubs, dumb bells, and chest weights are likewise beneficial. If possible these lessons should be supplemented with a course both in gymnastics, and in aesthetic physical culture. Exercises. Feet and Legs. i. Raise on toes eight times. 2. Project foot forward eight times. 3. Running motion. Arms. 1. Arms above head, let hands drop lifelessly. 2. Make lifeless and revolve whole arm from shoulder. 3. Make figure 8 with whole arm. 4. Make script alphabet with whole arm. Hands and Fingers. 1. Extend arm to front, palm upwards, open and shut fingers eight times. 2. Arms to side, open and shut hand eight times. Arms at different degrees, and repeat closing of hand. 12 Reading and Public Speaking. Body. i. Bend body from waist, and revolve from right to left. 2. Arms full length above head, thumbs crossed, try to touch the toes without bending the knees. LESSON II. CORRECT BREATHING. The correct management of the breath is of paramount importance to the Public Speaker. In fact, all vocal culture depends primarily upon correct breathing. Much time is spent by the singer in the management of the breath and the correct placing of the tone. The art of speaking demands as much attention to fundamentals as does the art of singing. The abdominal method is the natural and correct way to breathe. In the employment of this method the muscles of the diaphragm and the front wall of the abdomen do the work, and, if the pipes of the throat are relaxed and open, the speaker husbands his strength, speaks easily, and in the longest dis- course does not become fatigued. The organs used for the passage of breath and for voice production are: I. Abdominal Muscles io. True Vocal Chords 2. Diaphragm ii. Mouth 3- Costal and Intercostal 12. Nasal Cavities Muscles 13- Hard Palate 4- Pectoral Muscles 14. Soft Palate 5- Thorax 15. Tongue 6. Lungs 16. Teeth 7- The Bronchi 17. Lips 8. Windpipe or Trachea 18. Jaw 9- Larynx (Vocal Box) Breathing Exercises. Standing Position Stand erect, one foot slightly in advance of the other, heels at an angle of 45 degrees. Weight of body forward on balls of feet, abdomen in, chest out, straight line from shoulder to balls of the feet. Exercise 1. Close right nostril with thumb, inhale slowly and deeply through the left nostril, and exhale slowly through the right nostril until the breath is exhausted, alternating, in- hale and repeat. 1. Inhale deeply. Hold the breath five counts. Exhale slowly, increase the count. Reading and Public Speaking. 13 3. Imagine the body a deep well and try to fill the well. Inhale through nose gently and slowly, expanding first the abdo- men then the chest, filling the entire breathing capacity, Inhale for ten, twenty or thirty seconds. Exhale for the same length of time. 4. Inhale slowly and give abdominal impulses in abrupt partially vocalized coughs of uh. 5. Close the lips, take a full breath and force it through the nostrils in short expulsive jets in rapid succession with ab- dominal impulses. 6. Inhale deeply. Repeat a, e, i, o, u, in whisper until breath is exhausted. 7. Inhale deeply and count one to fifty, in tens. 8. Inhale deeply, count in a projected whisper to fifty, one at a time, completely exhausting the air on each figure. 9. Raise arms at side and inhale until hands are clasped above head, hold breath on five counts, and then exhale slowly while arms fall slowly to position at side. 10. Inhale and exhale all the breath in one second, em- ploying the whispered sound Hah. 11. Inhale instantaneously, deeply, and fully, Exhale in- stantaneously. 12. Inhale fully and deeply. Breathe through the nos- trils as in panting. 13. While inhaling, slowly raise the arms as in yawning, then stretch the arms and relax. 14. Take a full breath correctly, hold it a few seconds, press the lips very tightly and force a small blast of air through them. Retain the breath again, and give another expulsion of air through the small opening as before, and so on as many times as can be comfortably executed. 15. Count by threes, fives, tens, fifteens, and twenties, inhaling after each group. 16. Inhale to the full capacity of the lungs, and count in a whisper as far as possible in one breath, also repeat vowels. Hold some lofty or beautiful thought in mind while prac- ticing these exercises. LESSON III. VOWEL SOUNDS. Richard Grant White said : "Man first uttered formless vowel sounds, those vowel sounds were later interrupted, modified, and supported by consonants, without which vowels cannot be put to much intelligent use.' , The pleasure derived from hearing the round full musical sound of the vowel either in speech or in song needs no com- 14 Reading and Public Speaking. ment. The art of the singer is gauged to a great extent by his use of the vowel sounds, while the speaker may please or displease the ears of his audience by his use of the tonics. Practice the following vowel sounds: 1. Broad a, as in all . Bald, dawn, brawl, broad, balk, awl, almost, appall, all, fought, vault, orb, form, wharf, gaudy, falchion, daughter. 2. (a) long Italian a, as in launch. Calm, palm, balm, arm, aunt, calf, aunt, launch, laundry, laughter, almond, flaunt, haunt, lava, promenade. 2. (b) Short Italian a. Ask, pass, grasp, cast, draught, pant, grass, grant, asp, chant quaff, hasp, glance, fast, shaft, class, staff, pastor, mask- ing, enhance, casket, basket, master, command, advantage, taskmaster. 3. Short a. Bat, Harry, marry, dastard, cassock, romance, passion, aquatic, character. 4. Circumflex a. There, bear, swear, tear, garish, parent, fairy, bare, chair, ne'er, ere. 5. Long e. Peer, near, machine, caprice, antique, dreary, ravine, ex- perience, superior. 6. Short e. Met, ferry, bury, treasure, measure, peril, merry, severity, terror. 7. Waved e. Verse, birth, first, kernel, earn, heard, nerve, sir, thirteen, fern, myrrh, term, sirloin, learn, virtuous, versatile, earnestness, alternately. 8. Short i. Fig, live, schism, spirit, mirror, divan, diploma, gibberish, lyrical. 9. Long 00 and short 00. Soon, rule, brute, boot, ooze, room, ruthless, rural, cruel, prune, hoof, rumor, nook, cook, hook, look, book, wood, wool, took, shook, wolf, bush, push, full, pull. 10. Short o. Odd, from, was, wash, office, closet, morrow, forest, morals, orator, correct. 11. Short u. Fun, wont, nourish, onion, flurry, worry, courage, flourish, muff, jug. 12. Caret u. Purr, cur, burr, urge, surge, word, work, worst, journal, burlesque, attorney. 13. Long a— a-fe. Reading and Public Speaking. 15 Fame, break, quake, eight, bass, grimace, prairie, heinous, vagaries, peroration. 14. Diphthong long i=a+e. Life, pipe, rhyme, scythe, syren, bicycle, dynamite, icicle, eyeing. 15. Diphthong long 0=0+00. Won't, yore, board, sword, toward, Dora, opponent, his- torian. 16. Diphthong oi=a+e. Foil, buoy, void, buoyant, poignant, cloister, oyster, re- connoiter. 17. Diphthong ou=a+oo. Cowl, sour, tower, vowel, gouty, lowering, cowardice, rowdy. 18. Diphthong long u=i+oo. Due, dude, tulip, supine, institute, Matthew, Susan, new, suit, nude, Luke, neuter, nuisance, numerous, lubricate, Tuesday, Lucy, tube, lute, tune, dew, tumult, tutor, tuberose, dubious, duet, duty, duke, innumerable. LESSON IV. CONSONANTS. Consonants employ the lips, the lips and teeth, the teeth and tongue, the tongue and palate, and the teeth, tongue, and palate. Sound the following consonants, and note the position of the tongue, teeth, and lips : b, m, p, w, wh — f, v — th as in thin, th as in thine — ch, d, g, j, k, 1, n, ng t— r, s, sh, y, z, zh. Because final consonants are so difficult to articulate, they are often slighted. In the following combinations, sound the letters first by themselves, then in combination, then the word : It— hilt, bolt, melt. Is — halls, tells, falls. lp— alp, gulp, help. lm — film, helm, elm. Ik — milk, bulk, hulk. If— gulf, wolf, elf. Id — sold, bold, cold. lve — revolve, delve, elve. tn — whit'n, tightn, bright'n. kn — tak'n, wak'n. pn — weap'n, rip'n, op'n. 1 6 Reading and Public Speaking. ct — pact, act, fact. st — vast, lest, mast. sp — grasp, clasp, asp. sm — prism, schism, chasm. md — gloom'd, claim'd, maim'd. ms — climes, streams, gleams. nd — hand, band, land. ns — gains, runs, dens. nk — link, dank, bank. nee — hence, glance, dance. nt — pant, ant, can't. LESSON V. SYLLABLES. The dividing of a word into such parts as will produce the most euphonious pronunciation is called syllabication. A syllable consists of an element or a combination of ele- ments uttered with a single impulse of the voice. Etymology and phonetic euphony are points to be con- sidered in syllabication. The etymology of a word is the di- vision of the syllables respecting the derivation. Thus, sub- ordinate, not su-bordinate, re-munerate, not rem-unerate. Phonetic euphony is the dividing of a word with reference to smoothness of utterance, as thus: re-ligion, not rel-igion. Refer to a standard dictionary for specific rules. Define: Monosyllable, Dissylable, Trissy liable, Polysyll- able, Ultimate, Penult, Antepenult, Proantepenult, Propreante- penult. Syllables have intrinsic time values. Some are long in quantity intrinsically, having continuant sounds. Example: came, farm, call, roar. Some syllables are composed of a combination of stops and continuants, and are intrinsically changeable. They may be pronounced short or may be prolonged moderately. Example : rate, apple, like. Other syllables are intrinsically short being composed wholly of short sounds. Example: Bit, bat, stop, mop, etc. In artistic reading or speaking the proper time value given to syllables becomes an important factor. Reading and Public Speaking, 17 LESSON VI ACCENT. Accent is a special stroke of the voice upon one syllable of a word. Accent is to a word what emphasis is to a phrase or clause. The Greeks used accent for the purpose of render- ing their speech varied and musical, while one of the chief elements of power in English is the strong accent, rendering it a constitutent element of rythm, and a consequent leading factor in versification. Accent is useful for: 1. Contrast. 2. Distinguishing parts of speech. 3. Satisfying metre. 4. Dialectic purposes. Examples : 1. Shall we ascend? No, let us Ascend. 2. (Noun) Contrast. (Verb) Contrast'. 3. Let the winged' Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home. When the soundless earth is muffled, And the caked' snow is shuffled. 4. I show you beau-ti-ful, O, ma.g-nif-i-cent f bust, Chris-to- pher Col-om-bo. The present tendency is toward shifting accent to the first syllables of words. Drills in Accent. Pronounce the following attacking vigorously the accented syllable. Forestall, disenthrall, altering, psalter, lawyer, applaud, defraud, withdraw, gaudy, bawling, appalling. Cantata, laughter, Alabama, oleomargarine, disembark, promenade, becalmed, embalming. Impossible, basket, slanting, blasting, glass-blowing, im- passable, passover. Chastisement, paramount, caricature, coadjutant, disen- franchisement, circumambulate, adamantine, somnambulism, anachronism, animalcule, approbative, biographical. Despairing, shareholder, ensnare, unbearable, unfairly, comparing. 18 Reading and Public Speaking. Chimera, coliseum, credence, retreating, experience, apo- theosis, cerement, chameleon, abstemious, capuchin, encyclo- pedia, homogeneity, monocotyledon.. Alternately, earnestness, versatile, myrtle, mercifully. Bamboozle, proof-reader, disapprove, alluvial, plumage, hallelujah, superfluity, spoonful, soothsayer, overrule, caboose. Overtook, mistook, bulletin, womanliness, roommate, bookbindry, bulldozing. Chronological, incomparable, orator, agnosticism, isosceles, chiropodist, contumely, epizootic. Annunciate, bungalow, consummate, butternut, circumfer- ence, covenanter. Furniture, gurgling, incursion, bifurcate, objurgatory, mur- muring, curvature, surplice. Contemporaneously, crystallization, defalcation, chicanery, civilization. Nightingale, diadem, nitrogen, notoriety, conniving. Locomotive, orotund, socialism, cognomen, condolence, corporal. Reconnoiter, buoyancy. Counterfeit, abounding. Illuminate, assiduity, amusement, ambiguity. Adolescence, celestial, chemistry, epidemic. Militarism, astigmatism, belligerent, sacrilegious, rivulet, aborigines, gibberish, centrifugal, convivial. Tutored, tortured, tittered, tettered, torrid, torrent, abet- ted, attained, attuned, attired, tautology, tabouret, taqt, tactics, tantamount, tether, tincture, didactic, defeating, dedicate, de- dication, deodorizer, data. To think the thought is theoretically to tell the thought, though this thinking the thought telleth not the tale thoroughly. Theophilus Thistle, the successful thistle sifter, thrust three thousand thistles through the thick of his thumb; see that thou thrust not three thousand thistles through the thick of thy thumb. Armor, farther, further, shriller, robber, rarely, arrowroot, arable, burner, merger, rather, murderer, regulator, interpreter, rearing, riderless, rhubarb, uproarious, oratorical, mirror, Chris- tian, rhinoceros, harbinger, encroacher, furnisher, hydrographer, chirographer, chandelier, fusiler, gondolier, rapier, foreigner, extortioner, sojourner, usurper. Hark, a hawk. The cart caught the father farther from his hearth than Hawth expected. O, horrible ! horrible ! most horrible ! Asbestos, asceticism, assassins, assets, assessor, associate, assuage, basilisk, basis, brassiness, essential, justice, isosceles, mis- chievousness, pessimism, sassafras, sensation, sensuous, sparseness. Reading and Public Speaking. 19 He says his sowing zone has several associated sections sizing similarly. Sometimes his hisses seem seriously sent. Enmeshed, shriveling, shrunken, solacing, crashing, con- scientious, constitutional, switching, bashfulness, refreshments, ocean, personification, considerations, commemoration, misap- prehension, additional, inattention, explanation, harshness, re- laxation, confessional. The nation's vision of vanishing pleas- ure. Mesmerism, prosaic, malfeasance, enthusiasm, protoplas- mic, drizzling, amazement, measles, fizzle, emblazoned, nose- gay, aspiring, appeased, visitant, irresolute, museum, dizziness, mizzen-mast. Vision, seizure, displeasure, immeasurable, cohesion, trans- fusion, delusion, provisionally, visualizing, sub-division, revision, cohesion. Wolverine, wainscoting, warrior, warrantable, well-wisher, wishy-washy. We are very well versed. Whacking, whatnot, wheaten, whimpers, whipper-snapper, whirlwind, whistle, wharfinger, over-whelming, whirligig. Pronounce the following words, noting the proper divi- sion of the syllables, correct vowel sounds, clear and distinct enunciation of the consonants, and the proper accent: Atmospherical, momentarily, chronological, unintelligi- bility, consanguinity, incomparably, dichlorotetrahydroxyben- zene, idiosyncrasy, instrumentality, indissolubly, necessarily, disingenuousness, lugubrious, colloquially, temporarily, multi- plication, dietetically, deterioration, authoritatively, inexplicable, congratulatory. LESSON VII. ARTICULATION, ENUNCIATION. Articulation is a jointing or linking together of the elements of a word. Accurate and distinct enunciation necessitates a nimble tongue, a flexible jaw, and a supple lip. Mother Nature is indeed kind when she bestows evenly placed teeth close together, proper length of tongue from uvu- la to the teeth, proper thickness of tongue, hollow palate and rather thin lips. An accurate and distinct articulation is the basis of good delivery. "Words should be delivered out from the lips as beautiful coins newly issued from the mint, deeply and accurately impressed, perfectly finished." 20 Reading and Public Speaking. By industry and intelligent practice, anyone with properly placed organs of speech may become a distinct speaker; there- fore, no audience should be expected to subject itself to a gra- tuitous persecution in listening to a slipshod mumbling utterance. The following exercises practiced daily will make indis- tinctness impossible. \ Exercises. — Jaw. i. Relax the muscles of the facejrom eyebrows to chin. Relax jaw and let mouth fill open as though asleep. Move the jaw with the fingers in all directions until it is flexible in joint. Shake relaxed jaw in all directions by movements of the head. -4 2. Throat. Relax jaw, open the throat and breathe as though snoring. Relax throat and neck muscles and let head fall in all directions until its full weight can be felt. 3. Tongue. Let the tongue lie flat in bottom of mouth, tip lightly, touching lower teeth, thrust it straight forward and draw it back several times. Open the mouth widely and let the tongue follow the outline of the lips, stretching the muscles at the base of the tongue. 4. With the jaw relaxed utter, blee-blee, blo-blo, blah- blah. 5. Utter, lal, lil, lawl, lile, te-te, to-to, tah-tah, the-the, tho-tho, tha-hah, ne-ne, no-no, nah-nah, ke-ke. 6. Utter decisively, be-be, bo-bo, bah-bah, fe-fe, fo-fo, fah- fah, me-me, mo-mo, mah-mah, kwe-kwe, kwo-kwo, kwah-kwah. Repeat the following final consonant combinations as in Lesson 4. ble — double, Bible, able. pie — topple, tripple, ample. bl'd— doubl'd, bubbl'd, troubl'd. dl'd— idl'd, saddl'd, cradl'd. mst — charm'st, arm'st. 1st — till'st, heal'st, call'st. mst — charm'st, arm'st. 1st — till'st, heal'st, call'st. nst — gain'st, heal'st, can'st. dst — roll'dst, mid'st, call'dst. rdst — regard'st, heard'st, reward' st. ngdst — throng' dst, wrong' dst. rmdst — form'dst, arm'dst. rundst — scorn'dst, learn'dst. Reading and Public Speaking. 21 Pronounce each of the following words five times in rapid succession and with vigorous force. Be careful not to repeat words so rapidly that the articulation is slighted. abominably generally necessarily coagulation apocalyptic dietetically. inexplicable allegorical atmospherical justificatory immediately indisputable incalculable superiority authoritatively ecclesiastically disingenuousness circumlocution congratulatory disinterestedly articulately multiplication ambiguously momentarily acquiescence assimilate Exercises in Alliteration. appropriate mythological temporarily indissolubly colloquially lucubration constitution apologetic collaterally dishonorable intolerable innumerable chronological 1. Amos Ames, the amiable aeronaut, aided in an aerial enterprise, at the age of eighty-eight. 2. Bring a bit of buttered brown bran bread. 3. Benjamin Bramble Blimber, a blundering banker, bor- rowed the banker's birchen broom to brush the blinding cob- webs from his brain. 4. A big black bug bit a big black bear. 5. Caius Cassius contrived concatenating circumstances causing chivalrous Caesar's citation. 6. Deaf doddering Daniel Dunderhead dictated difficult didactic disingenuousness. 7. Eight gray geese in a green field grazing. 8. Extraordinary and excessive irritability was exhibited by these execrable people. 9. Fine white wine vinegar with veal. 10. Flags fluttered fretfully from foreign fortifications and fleets. 11. Geese cackle, cattle low, crows caw, cocks crow. 12. Gibeon Gordon Grelglow, the great Greek grammar- ian, graduated at Grilgrove College. 13. Henry Hingham has hung his harp on the hook where he hitherto hung his hope. 14. Imbecile Irwin indefatigably inculcated inveterate iso- lation. 15. Jasper, the jolly juror, justly joked John, the journa- list. 16. Kemuel Kirkham Karnes cruelly kept the kiss that his cousin Catherine Kennedy cried for. 17. Lucy likes light literature. 18. A lily lying all alone along the lane. 22 Reading and Public Speaking. 19. Morose manners and magnanimous men make much magnetism. 20. Nine neutral nations negotiated numerous nuptials. 21. Obstructionists and oppressors often opposed opera- tions. 22. Peter Prangle, the prickly prangly pear picker picked three pecks of prickly prangly pears from the prickly prangly pear tree on the pleasant prairies. 23. Querulous quips were quoted by quiet Queenie Quilp. 24. Round the rough and rugged rocks the ragged rascals rudely ran and rambled. 25. Swan swam over the sea. Well swam swan. 26. Six thick thistle sticks. 2j. She sells sea shells. Shall Susan sell sea shells? 28. Swan swam back again. Well swam swan. 29. He sawed six, long, slim, sleek, slender, saplings. 30. Theophilus Thistle, the successful thistle sifter, in sifting a sieve full of unsifted thistles, thrust three thousand thistles through the thick of his thumb ; now if Theophilus This- tle, the successful thistle sifter, in sifting a sieve full of unsifted thistles, thrust three thousand thistles through the thick of his thumb, see that thou in sifting a sieve full of unsifted thistles, thrust not three thousand thistles through the thick of thy thumb. Success to the successful thistle sifter. 31. Unwise, unjust and unmerciful university usages. 32. Vivian's vernacular gives vividness to every verse, 33. How much wood would a woodchuck chuck, if a wood- chuck would chuck wood. 34. Xanthians Xebeced xantic xylographers. 35. Yelled and yelped the yeoman's youngsters in yester- day's yacht and yawl. 36. Zig-zaged zinc zones and zithers. 37. Amidst the mists and coldest frosts, With stoutest wrists and loudest boasts, He thrust his fists against the posts, And still insists he sees the ghosts. 38. What whim led White Whitney to whittle, whistle, whisper, and whimper, near the wharf where a floundering whale might wheel and whirl? 39. One old ox opening oysters. 40. Two toads totally tired trying to travel toward Toads- bury. 41. Three thick thumping tigers tickling trout. 42. Four fat foolish friars fleeing from France for fashion. 43. Seven slow snails sipping soup. 44. Betty Botter bought some butter ; but she said, "This butter's bitter. If I put it in my batter it will make my batter bit- ter; but if I buy a bit of better butter, it will make my bitter Reading and Public Speaking. 23 batter better." So she bought a bit of better butter, and made her bitter batter better. 45. A tooter who tooted a flute, tried to tutor two tooters to toot. Said the two to the tutor, "Is it easier to toot, or to tutor two tooters to toot?" LESSON VIII. PRONUNCIATION. Proper vowel sounds, distinct articulation of each conson- ant and syllable, together with correct accent, insures right pronunciation. The tongue should trip easily from one sound to another, giving each sound its due weight, until the com- bination of letters becomes a complete whole; in fact, pronun- ciation is merely the utterance, in a single impulse, of the ele- ments that constitute a word. Propriety in pronunciation is an inseparable result of cultivation and taste, and manifests the unfailing characteristic of correct mental habits. "A cor- rect and refined pronunciation of words is one of the founda- tion stones upon which all elocutionary excellence must be built." Pronounce correctly the following words: Aeriform, aeronaut, agape, antipodes, Ave Maria, avoirdu- pois, abdomen, acclimate, acumen, adamantine, address, adept, adieu, advertisement, again, alternate, amenable, apparatus, asso- ciate, athletic, auxiliary, accent (noun), accent (verb), afore- said, alias, allege, ay or aye, (meaning always), ay or aye (meaning yes). Betrothal, blatant, breeches, brigand, been, betroth, bi- cycle, bouquet, bade, bayou, belles-lettres, bestial, brevet. Caffeine, chameleon, capuchin, chiffonier, chimera, chival- rous, clandestine, contemplative, contumely, corrugate, cui- sine, candelabrum, canine, cello, chasm, chasten, clematis, coad- jutor, cognomen, column, combatant, condolence, consummate, contumely, conversant, cleanly, (adverb), cleanly (adjective). Daguerreotype, deficit, depot, depths, despicable, desue- tude, detail, disputant, divan, docile, dolorous, due, duke, duty, data, debut, debris, debutante; decade, defalcate, deficit, delusive, denouement/ derisive, docile, domicile. Eclat, , effigy, elixir, embroglio, empyrean, enervate, en- nui, ensemble, epitome, equable, ermine, esoteric, exchequer, exeunt, exorable, explicable, facade, facet, faucet, feline, fiasco, finance, forensic, frontier. Gigantic, God, gondola, government, granary, gratis, grovel, gymnasium, gape, germane, gubernatorial, guerdon. 24 Reading and Public Speaking. Hierarchy, holocaust, homeopathist, homicidal, homogen- eity, hyperbole, harass, hearth, height, heinous, horizon, hover, hypocrisy. Illustrate, indefatigable, indisputably, indissoluble, inex- plicable integral, irrefragable, incognito, indict, indigenous, ingot, integer, inveigle, irascible. Jasmine, jocose. Kept. Leviathan, lithe, litterateur, lucubratory, lamentable, laugh, legend, lenient, lineament, lugubrious, lyceum. Magazine, maritime, mediocre, mineralogy, misconstrue, mobile, molecule, museum, mausoleum, mauve, metallurgy, meta- morphose, meteorology, mezzo-soprano. Natatory, nuptial, nymph, nascent, niche, nicotine, no- menclature. Oaths, obligatory, occult, o'er, oleomargarine, ordeal, oro- tund, orthoepy, outre. Pedagogics, pellucid, posthumus, prebendary, precocity, primogeniture, pristine, probity, prolix, protege, protocol, puis- sance, patronize, piano, peremptory, piquant, plagiarism, prede- cessor, preface, premature, prestige. Quiescent, quarry, query. Ratiocination, recitative, recluse, recondite, renaissance, repartee, repetitive, requital, reservoir, residuum, reveille, ri- bald, reconnaissance, recreant, refutable, regime, remonstrate, rep- tile, requiem, research, route, romance. Sacerdotal, scintillate, sesame, silhouette, solecism, sopori- fic, supple syncope, satiety, secretary, senile, serpentine, simul- taneous, sinecure, sirup, sonorous, spontaneity, squalor, super- erogatory, superfluous. Tepid, toward, tremendous, truculent, thyme, tout-ensemble, trousseau. Ungent, umbrella, uninteresting, urbanity, usage, usurp. Vagary, vaudeville, verbose, versatile, vicar, victor, viru- lent, verbatim, vibratory, vocable. Zodiacal, zoolite, zenith, zoology.. Employ these words in sentences to indicate your knowl- edge of their meaning. Find other words in the dictionary. LESSON IX. AESTHETIC PHYSICAL CULTURE. Aesthetic Physical Culture has for its direct aim, beauty and truth of expression. The two keynote words are Relaxa- tion and Vitalization, and therefore exercises should be directed towards relaxation for freeing the joints and muscles from Reading and Public Speaking. 25 unwonted tension together with practice of such movements as will have a tendency properly to utilize expended energy. By will-power the tension may be withdrawn from the nerves and muscles until the whole body becomes relaxed. In exercises for relaxation it is well to have in mind defi- nitely the centers and radii of motion. The centers are the joints, and the radii are the sections between the joints. Thus the arm centers are the shoulder, elbow, wrist, and knuckles; while the radii are the upper arm, forearm, hand, and fingers. In the leg the centers are the hip, knee, and ankle, the radii being the upper leg, lower leg, and foot. The muscles of the various radii become the first motive power in vitalization. In relaxation of the arms, for instance, by centering the attention on the shoulder first, the tension may be withdrawn from the upper arm, and continuing down the arm, tension may be with- drawn from all the muscles to the very tips of the fingers, re- sulting in perfect limpness. Relaxation may be put to very practical uses. It is pos- sible for those whose tasks demand a great outgoing of mental and nervous energy to snatch a few moments here and there, stretch out upon the the floor, and, relaxing every muscle, rise revitalized with the muscles of the body free for further ac- tional purposes. "Exercises for Relaxation and Vitalization. 1. (a) Shake fingers vigorously after withdrawing vitality from the muscles of the hands and fingers. 1. Left. 2. Right. 3. Both hands. (b) Revitalize muscles of hand and fingers, arms side- ways, raise. Arms rotation one, two. Arms downward, sink .... 2. (a) Extend arms to side, elbows bent, forearms par- allel, withdraw energy from the forearms and shake vigor- ously. (b) Arms forward upward, raise. Circumduction of arms (large circle). One, two. 3. (a) Let arms hang lifeless from shoulder, twist body, allowing arms to swing from side to side. (b) Arms sideways, upward raise over head, and: heels raise, stretch arms, and heels sink. (c) Raise arms sidewise to front over head, returning side- wise. 4. (a) Raise arms perpendicularly above the head, with- draw the energy rapidly from the fingers, forearms, and arms, letting them fall lifelessly to the side by their own weight. (b) Arms sideways upward raise over head, and heels raise, stretch. Arms and heels sink. 26 Reading and Public Speaking. 5. (a) Extend the right foot forward, making it lifeless, shake foot from ankle, repeat same movement with left foot. (b) Hips firm. Left, (right) foot, forward (angle of 45 de- grees), Place. Foot, re-place position. 6. (a) Raise the right knee forward toward the horizon- tal position. Withdraw the vitality from the lower leg and shake it. (b) Hips firm, heels raise, knee bend, knees stretch, heels sink. 7. (a) Poise on left (right) foot, withdraw energy from right thigh, swinging it freely around the left by twisting the body at the hips. (b) Arms sidewise stretch, left (right) knee upward bend, knee forward stretch, knee bend, foot downward place, etc. 8. (a) Extend the right leg forward at an angle of 45 degrees, muscles tense. Withdraw energy from foot, lower and upper leg. Let leg fall by its own lifeless weight. (b) Hips, firm left (right) knee upward bend, knee outward move, knee stretch, knee bend, knee forward move, etc. 9. (a) Close the eyes, relax jaw withdraw energy from the muscles of the neck and allow the head to fall forward as in sleep. Sway trunk and let head roll in a circle on the shoulders. (b) Hips firm, heels raise, knee bend, deep bend. Alternate twisting head one — four, {one two), etc. (c) Arms sideways, stretch, heels raise, knees, bend. Alter- nate head, twisting one — four or one — two, knees stretch, heels sink, etc. These exercises may be supplemented by others that tend to assist in the control of graceful bodily movements. LESSON X. GESTURE. The desire to reinforce spoken language with some kind of action is general among all races of mankind. Gesture is resorted to when the thought may not be readily understood by the spoken word. Thoughts and feelings are expressed not only by the use of speech but also by the expression of the face, the eye, by a nod of the head, the pointing of the finger, and by the movement of the body. Gesture should never be considered apart from speech, as it is either an equivalent of speech or assists speech to express thought and feelings. Ges- ture follows the inspiration of the thought, and, where it is em- ployed, is always the first manifestation of the thought, pre- ceding the spoken word. When ordering one to leave the Reading and Public Speaking. 27 room, the finger is pointed at the door before the command is given; while the chair is indicated before the friend is asked to be seated. The criterion of gesture in speech should be the spontan- eity of the expression of the thought in the mind, or of the feeling of the heart manifested in conversation or on the play- ground, combined with grace and dignity. It will be profitable to observe the spontaneous gestures of various classes of people, and to study paintings and statuary for artistic gesture expression. Practice daily before a look- ing glass. Beecher drilled incessantly for three years in posturing, gesture, and vocal culture. The parts of the gesture are : 1. Preparation. 2. Gesture proper (stroke or ictus). 3. Return. Gestures are made in three zones, the upper, middle, and lower. To the upper zone, located about the head and above it, belong joyous, highly intellectual, spiritual, imaginative, and exalted thoughts. To the middle zone, belongs the unemo- tional, narrative, didactic, and conversational, and to the lower zone, emphatic, determined, and forceful thoughts. Gesture should be marked by Grace, Force, Precision, Se- quence, and Economy. 1. Grace of gesture denotes ease and freedom in move- ments, transitions, and repose. 2. Force of gesture denotes the energy and boldness with which the movements are executed. 3. Precision of gesture denotes the proper timing of the movement. 4. Sequence of gesture denotes the proper order in the movement of the agents of physical expression. 5. Economy of gesture denotes the use of just enough appropriate action to reinforce the thought properly. 28 Reading and Public Speaking. Study the following self explanatory outline : Part of Body Portion of Member. Position. Thought, Feeling or Emotion Expressed. HEAD. Erect Upward Downward Forward Courage, Joy, Pride, Authority. Hope, Prayer. Shame, Modesty, Reflection. Appeal, Listening, Sympathy, Antici- pation. FACE. Eyes. Nostril. Lips. Fingers Hand. HANDS. Wide open. Closed Half Closed Raised Dropped Askance Joy, Fear, Surprise. Faintness. Hate, Scrutiny. Prayer, Supplication. Modesty, Veneration. Envy, Jealousy, Appreciation. Contracted Contracted & Raised Cruelty, Exaggeration, Moral sensibility. Contempt, Irony, Sneer, etc. Dilated Extended Excitement, Strong Emotion, Indignation, Passion. Closed Closely shut Completely apart Repose. Firmness. Astonishment. In- Index Supine Prone Vertical Obtuse Bent back to greater degree. Fingers spread apart, thumb dis- tended. Reflex to Forehead Reflex to Breast Clutched Reflex Clasped Clasped and wrung Clenched Accusation. Points out objects. Counts objects. Enumerates facts. Designates points of arguments. Affirmation, Welcome. Assertion, Asking, Giving. Concession. Submission, Humility, Good Humor, Frankness, and Generalization. Shows superposition or the resting of one thing upon another. Molds, Shapes, Caresses, Commands, Locates, territory, Traces out dis- tances, Measures heights, Feels way in darkness. Simple Admonition or Reproof. Strong Denial, Aversion, Repulsion or Loathing. Extreme fear, terror, horror, amaze- ment. Concentration, Reflexion. Aft'ectional emotion. Self menace, Exasperation, Convul- sion. Prayer, Supplication, Adoration, En- treaty. Deep sorrow, Anguish, Remorse. Hate, Anger, Revenge, Defiance. Reading and Public Speaking. 29 The following sentences are naturally accompanied by gesture. While one student stands before the class and gives the appropriate gesture for the thought in one of the sentences let his classmates indicate the sentence that is represented by the gesture. 1. "For the last ten years, your honor, this man, Abner Barrow, has been serving a term of imprisonment in the state penitentiary. He is there in the prisoner's pen, a convicted murderer and an unconvicted assassin." 2. Avaunt, and quit my sight. Hence, horrible shadow, unreal mockery, hence. 3. "I defy the honorable gentleman. He has abused the privilege of parliament and the freedom of debate by uttering language which, if spoken out of the house, I would answer only with a blow. I care not how high his situation, my answer would be a blow." 4. "He has charged me with being connected with the rebels. The charge is utterly, and meanly false." 5. Down, down into the fathomless sea. 6. Stay, speak, speak, I charge thee speak. 7. With our hands upon the altar, we swear eternal fealty. 8. "And we laid them on the ballast, down below." 9. Get thee back into the tempest and the night's Plu- tonian shore. 10. Angels and ministers of grace, defend us. 11. Get thee from me, Cromwell. 12. Higher still and higher, From the earth thou springest; Like a cloud of fire The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. 13. I hold my hands to you to show they still are free. 14. Give your children food, O Father. Give us food or we must perish, Give me food for Minnehaha; For my dying Minnehaha. 15. O, spare my child, my joy, my pride. 16. Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel? 17. Fling wide the gates and let our conqueror in. Choose twenty passages from literature illustrating the use of the different gestures of the hand. Selections for Gesture Analysis. The Revenge. — Tennyson. Cataline's Defiance. The Launching of the Ship. — Longfellow. The Combat Scene. — Lady of the Lake. 30 Reading and Public Speaking. LESSON XI. THE SENTENCE. Vowels and consonants make syllables, syllables make words, words make sentences, and through the medium of the latter, together with gesticulation, man expresses his thoughts and emotions. With the mind fixed upon the pronunciation of words or com- bination of words, it is not especially difficult to enunciate, ac- cent the syllable correctly, and pronounce the words properly. Then, the mind is mechanically upon its guard; but when the sentence is reached or the printed page is read, colloquial negli- gence is more than likely to assert itself. In order to correct this tendency, employ the following formula in the sentences below: i st Articulate every element in every word separately and very distinctly. 2d Enunciate every syllable of every word clearly and ex- actly. 3d Pronounce every word properly. 4th Read the sentence with strict attention to the man- ner of pronouncing every word. 5th Read the whole sentence with an easy fluent enuncia- tion, paying strict attention to the expression of the meaning, but without losing correctness in the style of pronunciation. 6th Visualize the sentences, and, looking away from the book, repeat them to your hearers. "The manna of popular liberty must be gathered each day or it is rotten." "The living sap of today outgrows the dead rind of Yes- terday." "Liberty, even in defeat, knows nothing but success." "Marble, gold, and granite are not real, the only reality is an idea." "The key note to the oratory of Wendell Phillips lay in this: that it was essentially conversational, the conversation raisest to its highest power." "It was this colloquial quality infinite seried yet without interruption which made him the least tedious of speakers." "Phillips style of delivery set a fashion. It taught the value of highbred conversationalism. Bombast and artificiality, rant and roar went out of date, and the era of trained natural- ism began." "The leading qualities of his style are his colloquial dic- tion, his strength and energy, his invective, and his striking phrases." Reading and Public Speaking. 31 "In this regard Phillips made every speaker, every audience his debtor. " Select from your readings in history or other subjects, be- fore and after the regular consecutive readings, all words and phrases which contain difficult combinations, and repeat them often. Follow this by reading aloud with the mind riveted upon the thought. LESSON XII. GROUPING. Back of all expression is thought, and it is evident that as soon as we deal with the sentence, thought must receive the paramount consideration. In reality there is no reading of the printed page until thought is expressed. To be sure, the words may be repeated parrot-like or as the child speaking a "piece" that is beyond his comprehension, but there is no real reading or speaking until the thought of the author is ex- pressed. In the deepest selections from literature it requires the artist with years of training to use voice and gesture, coupled with the cultivated brain, properly to interpret the delicate shades of the author's thoughts and emotions. Ideas are gathered from the printed page in groups. In the sentence, "I saw a man standing in a door," the word "door" by itself gives no definite picture to the mind, while the words "standing in a", are not very illuminating. However, when the words are put together and the word "hotel" is added, then we have a clear picture. "I saw a man standing in a hotel door." A prominent fault with many speakers is the breaking up of their thoughts into segments with little or no regard to the intelligent grouping of the ideas. The author heard a minister use the following sentences in a sermon with the ideas broken up in the manner indi- cated: "And there — is no fruit — because — the seed — does not — go in — to the soil. Satan — comes and — takes away — the seed. The grain — withers — and — bears no — fruit. We find — them failing — in their — Christian life — and — bearing — no — fruit." It would seem that a proper appreciation of the thought would not allow a sentence thus to be mutilated. Manifestly, the proper phrasing of a sentence is of great importance. In the sentence, "If the weather is clear there will be a meeting tomorrow", "if the weather is clear" is one group, and, "there will be a meeting tomorrow", is another group. If the thoughts, or the picture, or pictures that the sen- tence contains get a firm hold of the mind before the reading or speaking takes place, the ideas will be properly grouped. 32 Reading and Public Speaking. Indicate the groups in the following selections: Belshazzar, the king, made a great feast to a thousand of his lords, and drank wine before the thousand. Belshazzar, while he tasted the wine, commanded to bring the golden and silver vessels which Nebuchadnezzer, his father, had taken out of the temple which was in Jerusalem: that the king and his lords, his wife and his concubines, might drink therein. Then they brought the golden vessels that were taken out of the temple of the house of God which was at Jerusalem ; and the king and his lords, his wives and his concubines, drank in them. They drank wine and praised the gods of gold and of silver, of brass, of iron, of wood, and of stone. In the same hour came forth the ringers of a man's hand, and wrote over against the candlestick upon the plaster of the wall of the king's palace, and the king saw part of the hand that wrote. Dick Swivexler and the Marchioness. One circumstance troubled Mr. Swiveller's mind very much, and that was that the small servant always remained somewhere in the bowels of the earth, and never came to the surface unless the single gentleman rang his bell, when she would answer it and immediately disappear again. She never went out, or came into the office, or had a clean face, or took off the coarse apron, or looked out of any one of the windows, or stood at the street door for a breath of air, or had any rest or enjoyment whatever. Nobody ever came to see her, no- body spoke of her, nobody cared about her. "Now," said Dick, walking up and down with his hands in his pockets, "I'd give something — if I had it — to know how they use that child, and where they keep her. My mother must have been a very inquisitive woman; I have no doubt I'm marked with a note of interrogation somewhere — upon my word, I should like to know how they use her." After running on, in this way, for some time, Mr. Swivel- ler softly opened the office door, with the intention of darting across the street for a glass of the mild porter. At that mo- ment he caught a parting glimpse of the brown head-dress of Miss Brass flitting down the kitchen stairs. "And by Jove!" thought Dick, "she's going to feed the small servant. Now or. never!" First peeping over the hand-rail and allowing the head- dress to disappear in the darkness below, he groped his way down and arrived at the door of a back kitchen immediately after Miss Brass had entered the same, bearing in her hand a cold leg of mutton. It was a very dark, miserable place, very low and very damp; the walls disfigured by a thousand rents and blotches. The water was trickling out of a leaky butt, and Reading and Public Speaking. 33 a most wretched cat was lapping up the drops with the sickly eagerness of starvation. Everything was locked up; the coal cellar, the candle-box, the salt-box, the meat-safe, were all pad- locked. There was nothing that a beetle could have lunched upon. The pinched and meager aspect of the place would have killed a chameleon; he would have known at the first mouth- ful that the air was not eatable, and must have given up the ghost in despair. While these acts and deeds were in progress in and out of the office of Sampson Brass, Richard Swiveller, being often alone therein began to find the time hang heavy on his hands. For the better preservation of his cheerfulness, therefore, and to prevent his faculties from rusting, he provided himself with a cribbage-board and pack of cards, and accustomed himself to play at cribbage with a dummy, for twenty, thirty, or some- times even fifty thousand pounds a side, besides, many hazard- ous bets to a considerable amount. As these games were very silently conducted, notwith- standing the magnitude of the interest involved, Mr. Swiveller began to think that on those evenings when Mr. and Miss Brass were out (and they often went out now) he heard a kind of snorting or hard-breathing sound in the direction of the door, which it occurred to him, after some reflection must proceed from the small servant, who always had a cold from damp living. Looking intently that way one night, he plainly distinguished an eye gleaming and glistening at the keyhole; and having now no doubt that his suspicions were correct, he stole softly to the door, and pounced upon her before she was aware of his approach. LESSON XIII. SUCCESSION OF IDEAS. Sentences are made up of small phrases more or less in- timately connected, the connection being denoted by inflection. As these phrases contain ideas, it is quite necessary to get the full import of each phrase or clause of a sentence, for, unless the parts are fully comprehended and intelligently uttered, the complete sentence will probably suffer an improper or incom- prehensible rendition. Many sentences have phrases that point forward to a thought further on. At the end of each of these phrases, an- ticipating a succeeding thought, the voice naturally rises, un- less some of the phrases, perchance, are of sufficient import- ance to demand a particular emphasis, when they are marked by a falling inflection. 34 Reading and Public Speaking. A sentence having a succession of ideas demands contin- uous thinking in order to keep in mind the main idea. This process is not altogether easy, especially where the details are numerous. Note the suspended sense in the following extracts : And in the nights of winter, When the cold north winds blow, And the long howling of the wolves - - Is heard amidst the snow; When round the lonely cottage Roars loud the tempests din, And the good logs of Algidus Roar louder yet within; When the oldest cask is opened, And the largest lamp is lit; When the chestnuts glow in the embers, And the kid turns on the spit; When young and old in circle Around the firebrands close; When the girls are weaving baskets, And the lads are shaping bows ; When the warrior mends his armour, And trims his helmet plume; When the goodwife's shuttle merrily Goes flashing through the loom; With weeping and with laughter Still is the story told, How well Horatius kept the bridge In the brave days of old. Clear-headed friend, whose joyful scorn, Edged with sharp laughter, cuts atwain The knots that tangle human creeds, The wounding cords that bind and strain The heart until it bleeds, Ray-fringed eyelids of the morn Roof not a glance so keen as thine; If aught of prophecy be mine Thou wilt not live in vain. Ye, who sometimes, in your rambles Through the green lanes of the country, Where the tangled barberry-bushes Hang their tufts of crimson berries Over stone walls gray with mosses, Pause by some neglected graveyard, For awhile to muse, and ponder Written with little skill of song-craft, Reading and Public Speaking. 35 Homely phrases, but each letter Full of hope and yet of heart-break, Full of all the tender pathos Of the here and the hereafter; — Stay and read this rude inscription, Read this Song of Hiawatha. — Longfellow. Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild, There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. Ay, now, when my soul all day hath drunken the soul of the oak, And my heart is at ease from men and the wearisome sound of the stroke Of the scythe of time, and the trowel of trade is low, And belief overmasters doubt, and I know that I know, And my spirit is grown to a lordly great compass within, That the length and the breadth and the sweep of the marshes of Glynn Will work me no fear like the fear they have wrought me of yore When length was fatigue, and when breadth was but bitterness sore, And when terror and shrinking and dreary unnamable pain Drew over me out of the merciless miles of the plain, — Oh, now, unafraid, I am fain to face The vast sweet visage of space. — Sidney Lanier. Note the succession of pictures in the following extracts : "But when the next day broke from underground, And shot red fire and shadows through the cave, They rose, heard mass, broke fast, and rode away." "Then shook his hair, strode off, and buzzed abroad About the Maid of Astolat, and her love." "But when the gray dawn stole into his tent, He rose, and clad himself, and girt his sword And took his horseman's cloak, and left his tent." What acts of the young soldier, in the lines above, go to make up the complete picture of the way in which he prepares himself for battle ? 1. Read the following silently several times with mind intently fixed upon the different pictures presented. 2. Recall all the pictures possible. 3. Read aloud with the idea of making the individual pic- ture stand out prominently. 4. Connect the pictures in such a manner as to make as many complete paintings or statues possible suitable for places in an art gallery. 36 Reading and Public Speaking. 5. Read the lines connecting the pictures in such a man- ner that your hearers may see the portraits and vitally feel the spirit of the selection. Miles Standish's Encounter With the Indians. After a three days' march he came to an Indian encampment Pitched on the edge of a meadow, between the sea and the forest; Women at work by the tents, and the warriors, horrid with war-paint, Seated about a fire, and smoking and talking together; Who, when they saw from afar the sudden approach of the white men, Saw the flash of the sun on breastplate and saber and musket, Straightway leaped to their feet, and two, from among them advancing, Came to parley with Standish, and offer him furs as a present; Friendship was in their looks, but in their hearts there was hatred. Braves of the tribe were these, and brothers gigantic in stature, Huge as Goliath of Gath, or the terrible Og, king of Bashan; One was Pecksuot named, and the other was called Wattawamat. Round their necks were suspended their knives in scabbards of wampum, Two-edged, trenchant knives, with points as sharp as a needle. Other arms had they none, for they were cunning and crafty. "Welcome, English"' they said, — these words they had learned from the traders Touching at times on the coast, to barter and chaffer for peltries. Then in their native tongue they began to parley with Standish, Through his guide and interpreter, Hobomok, friend of the white man, Begging for blankets and knives, but mostly for muskets and powder, Kept by the white man, they said, concealed, with the plague in his cellars, Ready to be let loose, and destroy his brother the red man ! But when Standish refused, and said he would give them the Bible, Suddenly changing their tone, they began to boast and to bluster. Then Wattawamat advanced with a stride in front of the other, And, with a lofty demeanor, thus vauntingly spake to the Captain : "Now Wattawamat can see, by the fiery eyes of the Captain, Angry is he in his heart; but the heart of the brave Wattawamat Is not afraid of the sight. He was not born of a woman, But on a mountain, at night, from an oak-tree riven by lightning, Forth he sprang at a bound, with all his weapons about him, Shouting, "Who is there here to fight with the brave Wattawamat?" Then he unsheathed his knife, and, whetting the blade on his left hand Held it aloft and displayed a woman's face on the handle, Saying, with bitter expression and look of sinister meaning; "I have another at home, with the face of a man on the handle; By and by they shall marry; and there will be plenty of children." Then stood Pecksuot forth, self-vaunting, insulting Miles Standish; While with his fingers he patted the knife that hung at his bosom, Drawing it half from its sheath, and plunging it back, as he muttered, "By and by it shall see ; it shall eat ; ah, ha ! but shall speak not ! This is the mighty Captain the white men have sent to destroy us ! He is a little man ; let him go and work with the women !" Meanwhile Standish had noted the faces and figures of Indians Peeping and creeping about from bush to tree in the Forest, Feigning to look for game, with arrows set on their bowstrings, Reading and Public Speaking. 37 Drawing about him still closer and closer the net of their ambush. But undaunted he stood, and dissembled and treated them smoothly; So the old chronicles say, that were writ in the days of the fathers. But when he heard their defiance, the boast, the taunt, and the insult, All the hot blood of his race, of Sir Hugh and of Thurston de Standish, Boiled and beat in his heart, and swelled in the veins of his temples. Headlong he leaped on the boaster, and, snatching his knife from its scabbard, Plunged it into his heart, and, reeling backward, the savage Fell with his face to the sky, and a fiendlike fierceness upon it. Straight there arose from the forest the awful sound of the war-whoop, And like a flurry of snow on the whistling wind of December, Swift and sudden and keen came a flight of feathery arrows. Then came a cloud of smoke, and out of the cloud came the lightning, Out of the lightning thunder; and death unseen ran before it. Frightened the savages fled for shelter in swamp and in thicket, Hotly pursued and beset; but their sachem, the brave, Wattawamat, Fled not; he was dead. Unswerving and swift had a bullet Passed through his brain, and he fell with both hands clutching the greensward, Seeming in death to hold back from his foe the land of his fathers. Thus the first battle was fought and won by the stalwart Miles Standish. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. LESSON XIV. THE CENTRAL IDEA AND WORD PROMINENCE. Every sentence, or even a phrase has a central idea. In the sentence, "It is not only hot but red hot" the italicized words bring out the main idea. This central idea is brought out by a stroke of the voice which gives prominence to the word be- cause of its important position in the thought of the phrase or of the sentence. The emphasis may be by force or inflection, or both. Par- aphrasing is often of great assistance in making sure the cen- tral idea. Suppose that you are going to town and some one asks you where you are going. You make the word "town" very prominent by saying, "I am going to town." Sometimes a word is made prominent by rising, falling, or circumflex inflection, some- times by slower time, sometimes by force alone. These various forms are simply the results of various forms of thinking. Let the thinking be right and the sentence will be read or spoken cor- rectly. Read the following sentences making prominent the word or words containing the central idea: The books which help you most are those which make you think the most. — Theodore Parker. 'Tis the good reader that makes the good book. — Ralph Waldo Bmerson. 38 Reading and Public Speaking. For the want of a nail the shoe was lost; for the want of a shoe the horse was lost; for the want of a horse the man was lost. — Benjamin Franklin. He that will not look before must look behind. — Gaelic Proverb. When clouds are seen wise men put on their cloaks — Wil- liam Shakespeare. Be bold, first gate. Be bold, and evermore be bold, second gate; be not too bold, third gate. — Inscription on the Gates of Busyane. It is not flesh and blood, but the heart, that makes bro- thers. — Johann Schiller. Thy friend has a friend and thy friend's friend has a friend, so be discreet. — Daniel Webster. Circumstances? I make circumstances. — Napoleon. You had better return a fan gracefully than give a thous- and pounds awkwardly. — Chesterfield. Words pass away but actions remain. — Napoleon. Be courteous to all, but intimate with few. — Washington. Faithful are the wounds of a friend, but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful. — Bible. It matters not how long you live, but how well. — Publius Syrus. "O my good lord, make no faction in a peaceful state. There is no friend can help us so well as our own candid truth and honor. Bring but these to our assistance, and you are safe amidst a whole army of the envious and malignant. Leave these behind you, and all other defense will be fruitless. Truth, my noble lord, is well painted unarmed." Read Matthew VII. LESSON XV. SUBORDINATION. In our desire to impress upon another the leading thought of a sentence, it has been seen that some sort of emphasis is used to indicate the central idea. If there are especially important words in a sentence receiv- ing prominence, it follows naturally that the relatively unim- portant words will be read in a less striking manner. As there are slighted words in every phrase, so there are slighted phrases and clauses in many sentences. Through the proper thought modulation comes that greatly to be desired phase of utterance — variety. Read the following sentences noting the subordinate words, phrases, or clauses. Reading and Public Speaking. 39 1. I have returned, — not as the right honorable member has said, to raise a storm, — I have returned to discharge an honorable debt of gratitude to my country. 2. Moreover, one young gentleman with a swollen nose and an excessively large head, (the oldest of the ten who had "gone through" everything), suddenly left off blowing one day, and re- mained in the establishment a mere stalk. 3. "Now," said Dick, walking up and down wtih his hands in his pockets, "I'd give something — if I had it — to know how they use that child, and where they keep her." 4. The small servant, who was not so well acquainted with theatrical conventionalities as Mr. Swiveller, (having indeed never seen a play or heard one spoken of except by chance through chinks of doors and in other forbidden places), was rather alarmed by demonstrations so novel in their nature. 5. Mr. Tulkingham, the lawyer, smoke-dried and faded, dwelling among mankind, but not consorting with them, aged without experience of genial youth and so long used to making his cramped nest in holes and corners of human nature that he had forgotten its broader and better range, comes saunter- ing home. 6. In his early manhood, at the bidding of conscience, against the advice of his dearest friends, in opposition to stern paternal commands, against every dictate of worldly wisdom, and human prudence, in spite of all the dazzling temptations of ambition so alluring to the heart of a young man, he turned away from the broad fair highway to wealth, position, and dis- tinction, that the hands of a king opened before him, and cast- ing his lot with the weakest sect and most unpopular in Eng- land, through paths that were tangled with trouble and lined with pitiless thorns of persecution, he walked into honor and fame, and the reverence of the world, such as royalty could not promise and could not give him. Select other examples of subordination from various branches of study. Read Daniel V. and Matthew VII. 1. Indicate the groups. 2. Indicate the words or word containing the central idea. 3. Indicate the subordinate words, phrases or clauses. 4. Read aloud with close regard to grouping, to word prominence, and to subordination. 5. Visualize the sentences, and give your hearers the ben- efit of the expression in your eyes and on your face, by looking often from the page, repeating whole sentences as though you simply were talking. 40 Reading and Public Speaking. LESSON XVI. NATURALNESS. CONVERSATION. THE COLLOQUIAL When the proper sounds of the vowels are given, the dis- tinct enunciation of the syllables takes place, the pronuncia- tion of the words is correct, and the phrases and sentences are joined together in such a manner as to make clear the thought so that the speaker does not offend a cultured au- dience, then the would-be speaker may well turn his atten- tion to the cultivation of a spontaneous natural method of ex- pression. The term naturalness as here employed does not mean the unnatural naturalness of the awkward stripling, but rather the perfect adaptation of language, tone, and gesture to the thought. The present time taboos the high-flown declamatory delivery. It wants the plain unvarnished truth straight from the shoulder. However, to express truth effectively, even in our present prac- tical age, strict attention must be given to "the art of arts," and perhaps it will require years of studious practice for the indi- vidual speaker to attain to perfect naturalness. Observe closely the variety of intonation used by your friends in conversation or on the playgrounds. Hold imaginary conversation with your friends or classmates. Read and re-read the following selections until the inton- ations seem as natural as though you were really talking to an old friend. It is advisable to commit at least one of these selections. Nicholas — A fine morning, Mr. Linkinwater, Tim — Ah! Talk of the country, indeed! what do you think of this now for a day, — a London day, eh?" Nicholas — It's a little clearer out of town. Tim — Clearer? You shall see it from my bed-room window. Nicholas — You shall see it from mine. Tim — Pooh, pooh, don't tell me. Country! Nonsense. What can you get in the country but new laid eggs and flowers; and as to flowers, it's worth a run upstairs to smell my mignonette or to see the double wallflower in the back-attic window, at No. 6, in the court. (Arranged) -Dickens. Flower in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies; — Hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is. Reading and Public Speaking. 41 The mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel, And the former called the latter "Little prig"; Bun replied, "You are doubtless very big, But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in together To make up a year, And a sphere; And I think it no disgrace, To occupy my place. If I'm not so large as you, You are not so small as I, And not half so spry: I'll not deny you make A very pretty squirrel track! Talents differ : all is well and wisely put ; If I cannot carry forests on my back, Neither can you crack a nut." Touch. — How old are you friend? Will. — Five and twenty, sir. Touch. — A ripe age. Is thy name William? Will. — William, sir. Touch. — A fair name. Wast born in the forest here? Will. — Ay, sir, I thank God. Touch. — Thank God a good answer. Art rich? Will. — Faith, sir, so so. Touch. — So so is good, very good, — very excellent good; and yet it is not; it is but so so. Shakespeare. We are two travelers, Roger and I, Roger's my dog : — Come here, you scamp ! Jump for the gentlemen, — mind your eye ! Over the table, — look out for the lamp! We'll have some music, if you're willing, And Roger (hem! what a plague a cough is, sir!) Shall march a little, Start, you villain! Stand straight! 'Bout face! Salute your officer! Put up that paw ! Dress ! Take your rifle ! (Some dogs have arms, you see!) Now hold your Cap while the gentlemen give a trifle, To aid a poor old patriot soldier! March! Halt! Now show how the rebel shakes, When he stands up to hear his sentence. Now tell us how many drams it takes To honor a jolly new acquaintance. Five yelps, — that's five; he's mighty knowing! The night's before us, fill the glasses ! — Quick, sir! I'm ill, — my brain is going! Some brandy, — thank you, — there ! — it passes ! 42 Reading and Public Speaking. The following story may be dramatized by members of the class. While the plot is complete, yet further conversa- tion may be added. The story may be arranged in dialogue form, divided into acts and scenes, or in case the class is a large one, different groups may compete in its presentation. This exercise cannot help but encourage invention and stimulate originality, the two elements in our modern education most sadly neglected. THE FRESHMAN. At a little ramshackle station, ten miles from nowhere, rn one of the slowest of the slow sections of the great State of Authors, better known as Indiana, George Canby, Sophomore, and prominent member of the class of '05, directed his mis- chievous blue eyes from the dingy window of a squeaky local towards a fleshy, middle-aged woman, a lean, cadaverous, un- shaved man, and an exceedingly awkward-looking stripling, dressed in a swallowtail coat, a pair of loudly streaked trous- ers, a pair of freshly greased shoes, and a dollar derby. The mother, half smiling and half crying, was pinning something shiny on the lapel of the young hopeful's coat. Goodbyes were said, and with a "Take keer of yourself, Uriah,'' from father, and a wave of the handkerchief from mother, another country boy crossed the threshold of a new and long-dreamed-of exis- tence. Scarcely had the fuzzy-faced youth arranged telescope, umbrella, and bundle, when he found himself thus accosted by young Canby: "How do you do? Going to Chicago? Are you a Senior or a Junior?" said George, winking to himself. "O, no! I have never saw a college yet." To their mutual satisfaction, they soon discovered that they were both headed for the same institution of learning. "Where did you get that silver medal, Mr. Green?" said George quizzically. "O, I won that at the Demores Medal Prohibition Con- test," said Uriah. "I nearly won the gold medal too, but Ida Jones beat me by getting down on her knees and praying. One of the judges told pa afterwards that if Ida hadn't clasped her hands so well, and hadn't put in more gestures than I did, he would have voted for me. I forgot three of the gestures that the teacher taught me, and after one of the paragraphs, I didn't take two steps forward; but I thought of it a sentence or two later, and I took three steps, so I don't think that ought to have counted against me. Say, do you speak pieces on the last Fri- day of the month like we do at the High School in Podunk? I know three or four that I could speak." Reading and Public Speaking. 43 "No, we don't have any recitations in chapel," said George, trying to look serious, "but you can join a Literary Society. "By the way," added George, with a merry twinkle in his eyes, "that reminds me. You want to be sure to join the Phi Psi Bible Club. Here, I'll write down the address, and after three or four days, you just go over to the house, and ring the bell, and when one of the fellows comes to the door, hand him a dollar, and tell him that you want to pay your dues and join the Bibje Club." At this point their conversation was interrupted by the familiar cry of the conductor. "Chi-caw-go ! Chi-caw-go ! Don't forget your parcels and umbrellas !" With great haste and greater awkwardness, the eager Uriah began to collect his earthly belongings. "Sorry I can't go out with you, Green, but I have to stop over in the city tonight with a friend. The Y. M. boys will take care of you when you get to Evanston. So long. See you again soon. Don't forget about the Phi Psi's." Three long days, that seemed to Uriah to be more than a month, passed by. The morning of the fourth day of his college life found the homesick youth trudging in the direction of the Phi Psi House. The mecca to which George had directed him was finally found, and he was greatly surprised to discover such a large structure. A large gold sign in the window at- tracted his attention, but he could in no way make out the peculiar characters emblazoned thereon. He knocked on the door so loudly that the bell jingled faintly in a sympathetic man- ner, and the next moment he found himself face to face with a tall well-dressed young man with a radiant tie, a white wool hat with a vari-colored ribbon about the crown, and covered with unintelligible hieroglyphics, and a beautiful ivory bowl crook-stemmed pipe drooping from his mouth and projecting on a line with the lower extremity of his chin. "Howdy. I'm Jack Romans. Anything I can do for you Freshman?" "Good morning," said Uriah, somewhat faintly and timidly. "Is this the Fly High Bible Club?" "That's the time you hit the nail square on the head, my boy. I'm the teacher. Come right in and we'll make you a member quicker than you can say Jack Robinson." Romans pulled down a ponderous volume in which visi- tors to the Fraternity House were wont to inscribe their names, and, calling three other fellows in as witnesses, Uriah was soon holding up his right hand and repeating oaths that the young collegians administered with bishop-like gravity. The ceremony over, the stillness of the solemnity was sud- denly broken by Romans who exclaimed: "By jinks, old man! you must join the Heck Hall Fraternity! It's a pipe ! Some will tell you not to join a Fraternity but 44 Reading and Public Speaking. that's all dope. You just put that down as the sour grape cry of a lot of soreheads. They may be a little fast for grandpa, but I never yet saw an inmate of Heck that could do any harm. Every Freshman tries mighty hard to get in, and, as it's the early bird that gets the big fat fuzzy worm, just shoot the shoots and arrive before schedule time." Uriah left the Phi Psi House somewhat perplexed and be- wildered. "Surely," he thought to himself, "this young man is not much like my Sunday School teacher in Podunk, Posey County, Indiana." He was shambling hurriedly towards Heck Hall when he suddenly found himself drawn along with a bunch of Freshmen on their way to their first class meeting. That was a great day for many a youthful traveller starting on his journey along the dusty road to Parnassus, for forgetful of that leech-like home-sick feeling, forgetful of the roof-tree, there issued from that eventful meeting a group of youngsters with their minds centered on only one object, viz., how to elude the Sophs, and to flout their newly adopted color, the green, from the top of the campus flagpole. Not unlike the others, Uriah was deluged in the wave of patriotism and fealty that was sweeping over '06. The new yell, Hoo ! Rah ; Hoo ! Rah ; Hoo ! Rah ; Rix ! Rah! Rah! Rah! Rah! 1906, might be heard, here and there, for an hour or more after ad- journment, while an occasional "Skin 'em alive ! Skin 'em alive ! Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! 1905," served only to engender a greater and deeper enthusiasm for the fledgling 1906. In his excitement, Uriah almost forgot Heck Hall, but as he neared the old pile of bricks that adorned the campus in a decidedly inartistic manner, he entered the hallway where he was met by quite a different sort of fellow than any of his Freshman clan. There stood a personage with a swallow-tail very similar to his own, while a white necktie with a gloomy white shirt front for a background caused his pale elongated face to appear decidedly cadaverous. He was gaunt and skinny, and looked so much like the Rev. Mr. Good, the home minister, that Uriah felt little embarrassment in approaching him. "How do you do?" said Uriah innocently. "Mv name is Uriah Green, and I want to join the Heck Hall Fraternity." "Brother Green," said the other, holding up both hands in holy horror, "Fraternity! Anathema! I say Anathema! This is no Fraternity! No secret society, God helping, shall ever find shelter inside these sacred walls ! Are you a theo- logical student, Brother Green?" Uriah not comprehending the term "theological" but thinking perhaps that it might mean a good student or some- thing of that sort, replied that he had stood a hundred in sev- Reading and Public Speaking. 45 eral subjects in the Podunk High School and hoped to do that well in college also. "Oh, you are just entering college are you, Brother Green? Well, may God bless you, and keep you out of a Fraternity." Uriah now passed out into the open air even more per- plexed than when he had left the Phi Psi House. He was pro- ceeding towards a dormitory a short distance away, when he was almost brushed off the sidewalk by a big, brawny, athletic fellow, carrying two bulging suit cases. It was Lew Lang, a prominent member of the Sophomore class, returning to college three days late. He hastened into the dormitory, threw open the door of Room 23, and surprised his roommate, George Canby, in the act of shaving. "Well! Well! old pal, how are you? Great Scott! I thought you must be dead," said George, throwing down his shaving brush and grasping Lew's hands. "Old horse! how are you? Say, it seems mighty good to be back to the old room with you again, George ! "Why on earth didn't you get back before?" "O, I had to make that last delivery of views and I couldn't possibly get here a minute earlier. Had some time, though, down there in New Orleans, George. Wish you'd gone along." "Well, I'd given you up as a goner. Supposed an alligator must have lunched on you. But say, how about those mulatto girls? Are they as pretty as they are cracked up to be?" "Well, George, 'to answer by the card,' as Shakespeare would say, I was neither swallowed by an alligator, nor spirited away by flibbertigibbets or pigwidgeons ; but when one of those mulatto fairies of the Sunny Southland turned on me a pair of lamps that made the stars look like fifteen cents worth of tinfoil in comparison, instead of developing a tombstone fac- tory in my manly bosom, the calcium carbonate in my cardiac composition changed to putty almost instantaneously." "By Jove," said George, "you are surely chirking up some to wax poetical like that. Why, you'll be elected Senior class orator by acclamation, see if you don't. Gee ! you must have imbibed some of the spirits of the flowery orators of old Dixie. But say, come down to earth, and tell me about some of your usual narrow escapes, or harrowing experiences." "Say, George, I had a few allright, allright. Just for a sample : I got into a mighty queer box a week before last," said George, opening his suit cases and preparing to unpack their con- tents. "One of those dusky damsels, that a fellow finds in every house in New Orleans, had admitted me to the parlor, after I had earnestly impressed upon her plastic mind that it was abso- lutely necessary that I should see the Mrs. on very important and pressing business. Well, I was sitting in the parlor with the first words of my little eloquent introductory speech on my tongue, when Mrs. Black peeped through the door and said: a6 Reading and Public Speaking. "O, step right this way, Mr. White, and I will show you what's to be done." Curious to know what Mrs. Black wanted done, and not knowing what else to do, I followed her out to a side porch. "Now, Mr. White," said Mrs. Black, "among other things, I want this porch fixed. The steps might as well be torn out and new ones put in." It was my first chance to speak, and my usual introduc- tory speech seemed somewhat out of place under the circum- stances, so I assumed a carpenterlike air, and said, "Mrs. Black, how would one of these new kind of steps that people are building now suit you? You know, the kind that are round and narrow towards the bottom." "I believe that would be just the thing," said Mrs. Black approvingly, and led me to the side of the house where she pointed up to the tin eaves, saying that they would also need repairing. "Well, Mrs. Black, I am not a tinsmith. You'll have to get some one else for that work. I have so much work in view now that I am nearly rushed to death," I said with a consid- erable importance. "Hadn't you better note down the things? I don't see how you can remember so much, Mr. White." "O, no, I'm used to this, I can keep them all in my head," I gravely replied. "Well, step this way then, Mr. White," and she led me back into the parlor. "Now I want a folding door cut in here between the parlor and the dining room." "But, Mrs. Black," said I, pondering. "Do you realize that it will cost you quite a sum to make all these repairs." "Yes, it probably wil]," said she, meditatively, "but I've made up my mind to have the changes made." Then she led me into the bedrooms and kitchen where several other alter- ations were desired. "Now, Mr. White, what will it cost me?" "Well, I will have to figure on it a little," I said, taking out my order book and pretending to note down the improve- ments. "Now, I will let you know tomorrow just what it will cost you, Mrs. Black." "Oh, can't you tell me today," she exclaimed, half peevishly, half pleadingly. I was getting alarmed lest my likeness, the real carpenter, might appear as per probable appointment, so I pulled out my watch, saying in great surprise, "Mercy goodness ! here it is quarter after two, and I had another appointment at two- ten. Good day, Mrs. Black, I will let you know tomorrow," and with that I vamoosed. "Ha ! ha ! ha ! Well, Lew, Lew, you surely do get into some queer scrapes. Guess I wasn't born to adventure. I seem to Reading and Public Speaking. 47 lead a kind of uneventful, humdrum, colorless sort of existence; but, say, I did have a little seasoning thrown in the other day when I met that young Freshman on the train. We've got one of the greenest Freshmen this year that ever happened. His name is Uriah Green. I told him to go over and join the Phi Psi Bible Club, and he went just as innocently as the little lamb to the slaugh- ter. Romans was here just a few minutes before you came and told me all about the fun they had with him, and they surely had a plenty. ,, "I bet that was the fellow I whisked of! the sidewalk as I came in. He surely was a funny looker. That name too ! Uriah Green ! Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! Uriah, you or I, Zebediah Hezi- kiah Green. Say, that makes some yell," said Lew, raising his voice and repeating with emphasis. The door was standing slightly ajar and the sound of his voice found its way into the open transom of the door leading into the room of a sharp little Freshie just across the hall, while Uriah, who was wandering aimlessly around at the other end of the building thought he heard some one calling to him, and going up close to the door overheard the following con- versation: "Say, I have a scheme, Lew. The Freshmen have just held their meeting and nine chances to ten planned when they would try to tack their colors on the top of the flag pole. We Sophs have been trying to get some clue. We expect to have spies out every night this week. Let's get hold of that Green, and take him over to Willard Hall to see Laura. We'll get her to pretend that she's a Freshman. Uriah Hezekiah will never mistrust anything, and you know that Laura can get a secret out of a clam. She'll find out just when the Freshies are to hoist their colors, and then, well, the Sophs will be there in a body and you know when the Freshies are thwarted in their first attempt, the Sophs have the right to put up their colors and win the greatest victory of their college career. You know how we won out last year, and we simply must win again this year by some hook or crook." "Bravo ! Bravo !" cried Lew. "George, you are a wily gen- eral even if you don't have many hair-raising experiences," Uriah had heard enough, and while the two Sophs were gloating over the undoubted victory to be, Uriah was sitting on the stone step a few feet from the Dormitory discussing with himself a case of conscience. In the Sunday School lesson in Podunk, just last Sunday, the question had come up as to whether a lie was ever justifiable. Old Deacon Zeke Bender argued sternly in the negative, and when Uriah had ventured the opinion that in the case of a surprise party a lie might be forgiven, Zeke looked upon him with pity, and thought to himself, "That Uriah won't be at that there college a year before he will be a backslider." 48 Reading and Public Speaking. Uriah surprised himself by striking a vein of humor in his nature when it occurred to him that this circumstance was very much after the fashion of a surprise party. He had just hit upon the idea of telling Laura that the Freshmen had decided upon three o'clock the following morning instead of three o'clock the morning after, which was the real time agreed upon at the Freshman meeting, when George, happening to look out of his window, discovered Green in his pondering attitude. "Hey ! Green ! Green ! come up and see a fellow !" shouted George, good naturedly. Uriah looked around and up to the second floor window, stretched himself until the kinks were all out, and shambled awkwardly up the stairs to Room 23. "Come right in, Green," said George, giving his hand a vigorous shake. "This is my room-mate, Lew Lang. How do you like college by this time?" "O, pretty well," responded Uriah, "but I'm getting aw- fully lonesome." "Have'nt you struck up an acquaintance with any of the Freshman girls as an antidote to that homesick feeling? Say, Lew, let's take Green over to Willard Hall to see that pretty Fresh- man girl, Laura Bing. You know we were going over as soon as we had fixed up our room. Pitch in and help us, Green, and we will take you along with us." Uriah spent the next hour tacking up pictures, stretching photo nets, sweeping, and doing various other things at the direction of the two Sophs, who did little more than to issue orders. While Uriah was making the quarters of the two young Sophomore gallants habitable, a similar scene was in progress in the hall room occupied by Laura Bing and her classmate, Jessie Lambert. A peep into the room of these two Sopho- more girls would have revealed a trunk on either side with their contents scattered on the floor. A narrow, irregular alley separated the belongings of the two girls and led to a step ladder upon the topmost step of which Laura was perched, uncertainly balancing herself while she was attempting to push a tack into the unresponsive wall with one hand and to hold a hammer in the other. Suddenly the irresponsive tack eluded Laura's pink finger tips, and, falling to the floor, turned several clattering somersaults up "jagged alley," and finally found a snug resting place under some pink and blue frills. Laura sat down upon the top of the ladder and surveyed the wilderness below with a mixed smile, pout, and frown. In addition to the trunks she saw in two corners, two desks covered with books, papers, raincoats and wraps. A divan occupied a third corner, while the fourth held two drygoods' boxes whose broken tops were resting against the wall, or lying here and there on the floor with the sharp ends of the nails looking pensively through Reading and Public Speaking. 49 the cobwebs to the gloomy ceiling. While Laura was viewing this medley of confusion, and wondering how she could bring order out of chaos, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," she called out, half angry that any one should dare to enter at such a time. A girl with a blue linen middy suit reaching to her ankles, and with a braid of auburn hair hanging down her back appeared in the doorway. Laura looked at the intruder for a moment in silence, while the girl's eyes travelled around the room in some surprise, and finally reached the top of the ladder. "I, — I — I'm a Freshman," the girl began timidly, "and I came in to find out whether you would rent a couple of your old books. I heard that the girls do sometimes. I specially want to rent a Latin dictionary." "Yes, my dear," said Laura, " and I won't charge you a penny for the rent, if you will hang these pictures and do a little other necessary work down there in your vicinity." "My room-mate hasn't come yet, so I can't settle myself," said the Freshman with a homesick sigh. "That's nice," said Laura, "then you can help us, can't you ? Jessie has gone down town for some wire and some more brass headed tacks. What's your name?" "My name is Christine Christabel Frederic McGaffey." "Mercy me ! With all that name you ought to become a great authoress, and write for the Ladies' Home Journal. But I can't remember all that. . . . Supposing I call you Maxine Elliott Maude Adams for short." Just then Kate Barton, a jovial, rosy cheeked Senior girl burst into the room saying, "Oh, Laura! loan me your white shoes for the joint Y. M. and Y. W. next Saturday night. I'm perfectly crazy about them, don't you know." Then seeing the chaos of desolation about her, she added: "Well, what on earth has struck this room? A real Omaha twister must have strayed this way." "Don't cast any reflections on my originally decorated domicile, Kate, or I'll not loan you a solitary shoe. In fact, I'm only going to rent my clothes from this time forth," said Laura, looking first at the Freshman and then at the dress that had caught on the till as she tried to pull it out of the trunk. Again the door flew open, and Clara Ramsey rushed in breathlessly exclaiming : "Oh, Laura ! George and Lew and the fun- niest looking fellow that you ever saw, are waiting down in the parlor to see you, — Oh, there's that pink and white hat that I just dote on," said Clara, as her eyes fell on the trunk till. I just adore that hat. Let me wear it to the Joint Saturday night?" "Now see here," said Laura, as she cautiously found her way down the wobbly ladder, "You girls will have my room all cleaned out if I loan you everything that you ask for. Sup- 50 Reading and Public Speaking. pose you all see who can do the most at getting things in ship-shape order while I go down to see George and Lew, and 'that funniest looking fellow' you ever saw. Oh, my! how can I ever get out a dress, and fix my hair in this mess?" "Go down just as you are. I dare you, double dare you," said Clara. "Oh, no, you won't get Laura to do that. She just must look sweet when Jim calls," said Kate, laughing. "Well, now you girls may think that I won't go down to that parlor until I am 'primped up', but 'yours truly' is going down just as she is. Tra la," and Laura had picked her way through 'jagged alley,' darted out of the door and through the hall. When Laura entered the parlor, although her hair was dishevelled, her apron crumpled, and her flushed cheeks bore some dark streaks, she was, nevertheless, a perfect picture of health, and looked even prettier to Jim than if she had "primped." After greeting George and Jim, and being introduced to Uriah, George, by one of his bold strokes of generalship, drew Laura to one end of the long parlor and acquainted her with the ruse, while Jim diverted Uriah's attention by showing him some bric-a-brac in the other end of the room. Uriah soon found himself sitting on the divan with Laura, and entertained so well that George and Jim withdrew without attracting notice. Uriah's bashfulness was soon dissipated by the artifice of the clever Sophomore girl, and he was soon talking fluently of Podunk and telling experiences of his past life. Finally Laura said, "Oh, by the way, Mr. Green, what did we do at the meeting this afternoon? I was so busy getting my room fixed up that I didn't go, I wonder when we will put our colors on the flag pole? They; didn't bring it up in the meeting did they?" "Oh, yes," said Uriah, "the colors go up at three o'clock, tomorrow morning." It was an herculean effort for Uriah to utter this falsehood, but he had taken the fatal step; the Rubicon was crossed, and there was nothing to do now but to await the outcome of suc- ceeding events. After the desired information was obtained, Laura ceased to be so entertaining, and after what seemed like an age to her, Uriah finally left, greatly smitten by the charms of the first young lady who had paid any attention to him since he had left home. Uriah hastened to Harrison, newly-elected Freshman President, and told him about everything that had happened. There was great excitement now in both camps. The Sophs planned to be on hand at 2:30 a. m. to intercept the Freshmen who were supposed to appear at 3 a. m. Reading and Public Speaking. 51 The Freshmen planned to wait until 3 130, or later, when the Sophs, weary of waiting, should leave, when, with the enemy scattered, with no pickets or spies to watch their move- ments, the two Freshmen chosen for the dangerous task, could shinny up the pole, and nail the green at the top of the fifty foot flag mast. The next morning the Sophomores on their way to classes beheld the green of the Freshmen floating proudly from the top of the flag pole. Every Soph bore on his face an expression of chagrin, disappointment, and defeat throughout the forenoon; and even George and Lew could not explain the action of their rivals, when after chapel they saw Uriah Green, suddenly change into a hero, when the Freshmen raised him upon their shoulders and there issued from a hundred rasping throats the triumphant yell: Who's a hero? You or I? Who's pledged to Phi Psi, You or I Or Hezeki? Or Hezeki? Who saved the day? You or I? You or I? No ! No ! No ! 'Twas Uriah Hezekiah Zecharia Zebediah Green. E. F. Biddus. OLD CHUMS. Is it you Jack? Old boy, is it really you? I shouldn't have known you but that I was told You might be expected; — pray, how do you do? But what, under heavens, has made you so old? Your hair! why, you've only a little gray fuzz! And your beard's white! but that can be beautifully dyed And your legs aren't but just half as long as they was ; And then — stars and garters! your vest is so wide. Is this your hand? Lord how I envied you that In the time of our courting — so soft, and so small And now it is callous inside, and so fat, — Well, you beat the very old deuce, that is all. Turn around, let me look at you, isn't it odd How strange in a few years a fellow's chum grows ! Your eye is shrunk up like a bean in a pod, And what are these lines branching out from your nose? 52 Reading and Public Speaking. Your back has gone up and your shoulders gone down, And all the old roses are under the plough; Why, Jack, if we'd happened to meet about town, I wouldn't have known you from Adam, I vow ! You've had trouble, have you? I'm sorry; but, John, All trouble sits lightly at your time of life. How's Billy, my namesake? You don't say he's gone To the war, John, and that you have buried your wife? Poor Katherine! so she has left you — ah me! I thought she would live to be fifty, or more What is it you tell me? She was fifty-three. no, Jack ! she wasn't so much by a score. Well there's little Katy, — was that her name, John? She'll rule your house one of these days like a queen. That baby! good lord! is she married and gone? With a Jack ten years old ! and a Katy fourteen ! Then I give it up ! Why you're younger than I By ten or twelve years, and to think you've come back A sober old greybeard, just ready to die! 1 don't understand how it is, — do you Jack? I've got all my faculties yet, sound and bright, Slight failure my eyes are beginning to hint; But still, with my spectacles on, and a light 'Twixt them and the page, I can read any print. My hearing is dull, and my leg is more spare, Perhaps, then it was when I beat you at ball; My breath gives out, too, if I go up a stair. — But nothing worth mentioning, nothing at all. My hair is just turning a little you see, And lately I've put on a broader-brimmed hat Then I wore at your wedding, but you will agree, Old fellow, I look all the better for that. I'm sometimes a little rheumatic 'tis true, And my nose isn't quite on a straight line, they say; For all that, I don't think I've changed much, do you? And I don't feel a day older, Jack— not a day. Alice Cary. Reading and Public Speaking. 53 A PAIR OF LUNATICS. (Enter Clara Manners, carrying a large bouquet. She is slightly agitated. ) Clara — Thank goodness, here's an empty room (rushes to couch and drops on it as if thoroughly done out) where I can rest for awhile in peace. Oh, why did Aunt Marie bring me to this ghastly gruesome function. My head's in a perfect whirl. Dr. Adams assured me that all my partners would be harmless. I suppose he meant by that they woudn't try to murder me — and, of course, that's some comfort — but their in- sane ramblings make my very flesh creep, and then their va- cant laughter — oh! (shudders) it's horrible — horrible! (Looks around). I wonder where I am! Oh! (starting up) perchance it's a padded room. (Moves about room, punching and tap- ping wall; hurts hand and puts it to mouth.) Oh! No, there's nothing padded but the furniture; but suppose it should be where the violent people are kept in chains — and things. I don't think I'll stay. (Going toward the door.) Captain F. snores, Clara stops suddenly and looks around in terror.) Clara — Good gracious! What's that? (Captain F. snores more loudly and prolongedly. Clara seems to freeze and shud- der.) Oh it's a groan; some poor creature in a straight jacket. Oh, what shall I do? Captain (gives a big yawn, stretching up his arms) Oh ! (Clara discovers him and sinks with a half scream and in a half-fainting condition into the other chair. Captain F. wakes up fully.) Oh, fudge, just beginning to doze and in such a place. (Yawns and stretches again.) Thought I heard talking. (Rises and looks about him, discovers Clara.) Hullo! fol- lowed! I'll lead her a merry chase, (Acts demented,) Eh! (Puts hand to nose in great alarm.) It's all right. It's another one. (Starts to take off his coat.) How do you do. (Makes a deep salaam) Lady Macbeth or Sultana of Zanzibar. Clara (terrified and aside) — There he is again ! He's taken his coat off. Oh, I hope he isn't violent. How his eyes glare ! (Creeps down room.) Captain (aside) — I must address her, I suppose. I'll humor her a bit. (Aloud) I beg your pardon, but are you looking for any one, the Editor of the Sun, or Hamlet, Prince of Den- mark? (Moves toward her. She moves away, keeping her eyes on him constantly.) Clara (aside) — A lunatic, I knew it I must humor him. (Aloud and in timid manner) Yes, I am engaged to Hamlet for the next dance, have you seen him? 54 Reading and Public Speaking. Captain (aside) — Poor thing, mad as a hatter, (aloud) Hamlet? Oh, yes, just this moment left him. We have been sitting for the last six months on the top of the North Pole tossing for chocolate drops and making railway station sand- wiches. (Moves nearer Clara, who tries to move away with- out his observing her.) Clara — Really ! Captain (sinking voice and looking around then moving closer to her as if to disclose a great secret) — Do you know what railway station sandwiches are made of? Clara — Oh, no, (in teror) I mean yes, yes ! No, I don't I mean no. Captain — Then I'll tell you (takes her by the wrist and brings her down to footlights) but it's a dark and gruesome mystery. They are made of gooseberry cakes, blacking, bull's eyes, and declining rays of the sun. (Aside) I am quite an accomplished lunatic. (Laughs and goes L. dragging her with him.) Clara (aside) — That dreadful insane laughter! How shall I get away! (aloud) Would you mind accompanying me in search of my partner? Captain (aside) — Wants to get me down to dance, not if I know it. (Aloud) Pray, excuse me; the fact is — I am ex- pecting a visit from the Queen of Sheba and the janitor of the Astor Flats ; they are coming to offer me a tomb in the Hall of Fame. (Earnestly kneeling to her.) Stay with me, and you shall share it. (Aside) I'm getting on splendidly. Clara (aside) — Oh dear, oh dear! what ravings. (Aloud, positively, but timidly.) Thank you very much; it's awfully kind of you, but I don't want a tomb, I don't indeed, I'm not dead yet. Captain — But it's such a useful thing to have in the house ; and if you grow tired of it you can turn it into a hen house, or better still, raffle it. (Confidentially) I know for a positive fact that the messenger at the Day and Night Bank will take fifty chances. (Goes up C. after letting go Clara's wrist.) Clara — You don't say so. (Aside) He doesn't seem so very violent, but how piteous are his wanderings. Such a pleasant-looking fellow, too ! Captain (aside, up a little) — This is an interesting case, decidedly, for she has not said a word about her own line of business. Perhaps she's got a novelty. I'll find out. (Aloud) But tell me what is your particular weakness ? You don't fly through the air (imitating action of flying) or anything of that sort, do you? Clara ( smiling) —Oh, no I'm not mad— oh, I beg your par- don, how stupid of me. I mean I'm only here on a visit to Dr. Adams — his guest you know. Reading and Public Speaking. 55 Captain (aside) — A guest! (Sorrowfully) Poor creature. They all say that. Clara (sweetly) — So pleased to have met you, but I am afraid I must be going. Goodby (going toward door, but keeping eyes on Captain F.) Captain — Not just yet. (Stopping her.) Tell me all about yourself. (Aside) This is the most charming lunatic I have seen this evening. Clara (aside) — I must pretend to be mad or he'll resent it and become violent; what shall I say? Ah, I know. (Aloudl I'm afraid I must be off, my balloon is waiting for me at the attic window, my swan balloon you know — and Auntie doesn't like the bird to be kept waiting at night. Captain (aside in tone of pity) — Poor creature. But it's distinctly a new idea and a pretty one. (Aloud) Never mind Auntie. Bother the birds. I'll blow you home through my beanshooter. (Sits 1^.) Clara (timidly) — Thank you, that's very kind of you, but I couldn't think of troubling you. (Aside) He won't let me go. I must go on humoring him till somebody comes. (Sits.) Captain — Come, tell me all about it. (Genially) So ypti drive about in a balloon eh? That must be ripping. ~$4 it your own, or hired for the evening? Clara (as though inventing with an effort) — Eh, oh ! our own, but it's not a very grand turn out ; the family balloon, you know; and the swans are an awful pair of crooks, quite past work. Captain — How sad ! And the coachmen — is he anything unusual? Clara (with effort) — The coachman? Oh, yes, he's a cop- per-colored cockatoo with a cold in the head. (Aside) How awfully natural it is to be mad ! Captain (aside) — I like this. Humoring a lady-like luna- tic is distinctly entertaining. Clara (rises, timidly) — Can — Can I drop you anywhere this evening? Captain — No, thanks. I prefer the old-fashioned bean shooter. So simple ! Clara — Indeed! Captain — Yes, you put yourself in at one end, and blow through the other, and puff — there you are. Clara — How very convenient. (Aside) Oh, he's dreadfully mad, poor thing. I must get away. (Aloud, edging toward the door in terror.) Goodby, thank you so much for this nice chat. Such a pleasant evening. From "Werner's Readings and Recitations No. 36," Edgar S. Werner & Co., Publisher, Nezv York. 56 Reading and Public Speaking. COURTSHIP UNDER DIFFICULTIES. {Enter Snobbleton) Snobbi^Ton — (Looking in the direction whence he had just come.) — Yes, there is that fellow Jones again. I declare the man is ubiquitous. Wherever I go with cousin Pru- dence we stumble across him, or he follows her like a shadow. Do we take a boating." So does Jones. Do we wander on the beach? So does Jones. Go where we will, that fellow follows or moves before. Now, that was a cruel practical joke which Jones once played upon me at college. I have never forgiven him. But I would gladly make a pretense of doing so, if I could have my revenge. Let me see. Can't I manage it ? He is head over heels in love with Prudence, but too bashful to speak. I half believe she is not indifferent to him, though al- together unacquainted. It may prove a match, if I cannot spoil it. Let me think. Ha ! I have it ! A brilliant idea ! Jones beware ! But here he comes. (Bnter Jones.) Jonss — (Not seeing Snobbleton, and delightedly contem- plating a flower which he holds in his hand.) Oh, rapture! What a prize ! It was in her hair — I saw it fall from her queenly head. (Kisses it every now and then.) How warm are its tender leaves from having touched her neck ! How doubly sweet is its perfume — fresh from the fragrance of her glorious locks ! How beautiful ! How — Bless me ! Here is Snobbleton ! We are enemies ! S. — (Advancing with an air of frankness. )-*-Good morn- ing, Jones — that is, if you will shake hands. J. — What! You — you forgive? You really — S. — Yes, yes, old fellow! All is forgotten. You played me a rough trick; but let bygones be bygones. Will you not bury the hatchet? J. — With all my heart, my dear fellow! (They shake hands.) S. — What is the matter with you, Jones ? You look quite grumpy— not by any means the same cheerful, dashing, rollick- ing fellow you were. J.— Grumpy— what is that! How do I look, Snobbleton? S. — Oh, not much out of the way. Only a little shaky in the shanks, blue lips, red nose, cadaverous jaws, bloodshot eyes, yellow — J.— (Aghast.)— Bless me, you don't say so ! (Aside.) Con- found the man ! Here have I been endeavoring to appear ro- mantic for the last month— and now to be called shaky-shanked, cadaverous — it is unbearable ! Reading and Public Speaking, 57 S. — But, never mind. Cheer up, old fellow! I see it all. Gad! I know what it is to be in — J. — Ah ! you can then sympathize with me ! You know what it is to be in — S. — Of course I do! Heaven preserve me from the toils! What days of bitterness. J. — What nights of bliss ! S. — (Shuddering.) And then the letters — the intermin- able letters ! J. — (With rapture.) Oh, yes, the letters! the billet doux! S. — And the bills — the endless bills. J. — (In surprise.) The bills ! S. — Yes; and the bailiffs, the lawyers, the judge and the jury. J. — Why, man, what are you talking about? I thought you said you knew what it was to be in — S. — In debt. To be sure I did. J. — Bless me ! I'm not in debt — never borrowed a dollar in my life. Ah, me — (sighs) — it's worse than that. S. — Worse than that ! Come, now, Jones, there is only one thing worse. You're surely not in love? J. — Yes I am. (With sudden feeling.) Oh, Snobby, help me, help me. Let me confide in you. S. — (With mock emotion.) Confide in me! Certainly, my dear fellow! See! I do not shrink — I stand firm. (Folds his arms in a determined posture.) Blaze away! J. — Snobby,I — love her. S.— Whom? J. — Your cousin, Prudence. S. — Ha ! Prudence Angelina Winterbottom ! J. — Now don't be angry, Snobby ! I don't mean any harm, you know — I— I — you know how it is. S. — Harm! my dear fellow. Not a bit of it. Angry! Not at all. You have my consent, old fellow. Take her. She is yours. Heaven bless you both. J. — You are very kind, Snobby, but I haven't got her con- sent yet. S. — Well, that is something to be sure. But leave it all to me. She may be a little coy, you know; but, considering your generous overlooking of her unfortunate defect — J. — Defect ! You surprise me. S. — What! and you do not know of it? J. — Not at all. I am astonishd! Nothing serious, I hope. S. — Oh, no, only a little — (He taps his ear with his finger knowingly.) I see you understand it. J. — Merciful heaven! can it be? But, really, is it serious? S. — I should think it was. J. — What! But is she ever dangerous? S. — Dangerous ! Why should she be. 58 Reading and Public Speaking. j _( Considerably relieved) — Oh, I perceive ! A mere air- iness of brain — a gentle aberration — scorning the dull world — a mild — S. — Zounds man ! she's not crazy ! j # — My dear Snobby, you relieve me. What then? S.— Slightly deaf. That's all. J.— Deaf ! S. — As a lamp-post. That is, you must elevate your voice to a considerable pitch in speaking to her. J. — Is it possible! However, I think I can manage. As for instance, if it were my intention to make her a floral offer- ing, and I should say (elevating his voice considerably) "Miss, will you make me happy by accepting these flowers?'" I sup- pose she could hear me, eh? How would that do? S. — Pshaw! Do you call that elevated? J. — Well, how would this do? (Speaks very loudly.) "Miss, will you make me happy — " S. — Louder, shriller, man ! S. — Louder, louder, or she will only see your lips move. J. — (Almost screaming) — "Miss, will you oblige me by accepting these flowers?" S. — There, that may do. Still, you want practice. I per- ceive the lady herself is approaching. Suppose you retire for a short time, and I will prepare her for the introduction. J. — Very well. Meantime, I will go down to the beach and endeavor to acquire the proper pitch. Let me see : "Miss, will you oblige me — " (Exit Jones, still speaking.) (Enter Prudence from other side.) Prudence — Good morning, cousin. Who was that, speak- ing so loudly? S. — Only Jones. Poor fellow, he is so deaf that I suppose he fancies his own voice to be a mere whisper. P. — Why, I was not aware of this. Is he very deaf ? S. — Deaf as a stone fence. To be sure, he does not use an ear trumpet any more, but one must speak excessively high. Unfortunate too, for I believe he's in love. P. — (With some emotion) — In love! With whom? S. — Can't you guess? P. — Oh, no. I haven't the slightest idea. S. — With yourself! He has been begging me to obtain him an introduction. P. — Well, I have always thought him a nice looking young man. I suppose he would hear me if I should say (speaks loudly) "Good morning, Mr. Jones?" S. — (Compassionately) — Do you think he would hear that? P.— Well, then, how would— (Speaks very loudly)— "Good morning, Mr. Jones." How would that do? Reading and Public Speaking, 59 S. — Tush ! He would think you were speaking under your breath. P. — (Almost screaming) — "Good morning !" S. — A mere whisper, my dear cousin. But here he comes. Now, do try to make yourself audible. (Bnter Jones.) S. — (Speaking in a high voice) — Mr. Jones, cousin. Miss Winterbottom, Jones. You will please excuse me for a short time. (He retires but remains within view.) J. — (Speaking shrill and loud, and offering some flowers.) Miss, will you accept these flowers? I plucked them from their slumber on the hill. P.— (In an equally high voice) — Really, sir, I — I — J. — (Aside) — She hesitates. It must be that she does not hear me. (Increasing his tone.) Miss, will you accept these flowers — FLOWERS? I plucked them sleeping on the hill — HILL. P. — (Also increasing her tone) — Certainly, Mr. Jones. They are beautiful— BEAU-TI-FUL. J. — (Aside) — How she screams in my ear. (Aloud) Yes, I plucked them from their slumber — SLUMBER, on the hill —HILL. P. — (Aside) — Poor man, what an effort it seems to him to speak. (Aloud.) I perceive you are poetical. Are you fond of poetry? (Aside.) He hesitates, I must speak louder. (In a scream.) Poetry— PoeTry— POETRY ! J. — (Aside) — Bless me, the woman would wake the dead! (Aloud.) Yes, Miss, I ad-o-r-e it. S. — (From behind, rubbing his hands) — Glorious! glorious ! I wonder how loud they can scream. Oh, vengeance, thou art sweet ! P. — Can you repeat some poetry— POETRY? J. — I only know one poem. It is this : You'd scarce expect one of my age — AGE, To speak in public on the stage — STAGE. P. — (Putting her lips to his ear and shouting) — Bravo! Bravo ! J.— (In the same way)— Thank you! THANK— P. — (Putting her hands over her ears) — Mercy on us. Do you think I'm deaf, sir? J. — (Also stopping his ears) — And do you fancy me deaf, Miss? {They now speak in their natural tones.) P. — Are you not, sir? You surprise me! J. — No, Miss. I was lead to believe that you were deaf. Snobbleton told me so. P. — Snobbleton. Why, he told me that you were deaf. j, — Confound the fellow! He has been making game of 6o Reading and Public Speaking. us. Here he is. (Perceiving Snobbleton.) You shall answer for this, sir. P. — Yes, sir, you shall answer for this, sir. S. (Advancing)— Ha ! ha! ha! and to whom must I an- swer? j. — (They turn to the audience) — To these, our friends, whose ears are split. 5. — Well, then, the answer must be brief. P. — (To Jones) — But they, our friends, are making it. j\ — I hear them, miss. I am not deaf. {Curtain falls.) SCENE FROM KING HENRY IV. King Henry — Henceforth Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer. Send me your prisoners by the speediest means, Or you shall hear in such a kind from me As will displease you. My Lord Northumberland, We license your departure with your son. Send us your prisoners, or you'll hear of it. (Exit King Henry.) Hotspur — And if the devil come and roar for them, I will not send them : I will after straight, And tell him so; for I will ease my heart, Although it be with hazard of my head. Northumberland — What! drunk with choler? Stay and pause awhile — Here comes your uncle. (Enter Worcester.) Hotspur — Speak of Mortimer ! Zounds ! I will speak of him, and let my soul Want mercy, if I do not join with him. Yea, on his part, I'll empty all these veins, And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust, But I will lift the downtrod Mortimer As high i' the air as this unthankful king, As this ingrate and cankered Bolingbroke. Northumberland (to Worcester) — Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad. Worcester — Who struck this heat up, after I was gone? Hotspur — He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners; And when I urged the ransom once again Of my wife's brother, then his cheek looked pale, And on my face he turned an eye of death, Trembling even at the name of Mortimer. Worcester — I cannot blame him. Was he not proclaimed By Richard that dead is, the next of blood? Northumberland — He was: I heard the proclamation; Reading and Public Speaking. 61 And then it was when the unhappy king (Whose wrongs in us God pardon!) did set forth Upon his Irish expedition: From whence he, intercepted, did return To be deposed, and shortly murdered. Worcester — And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth, Live scandalized and foully spoken of. But now I will unclasp a secret book, And to your quick conceiving discontents I'll read you matter deep and dangerous, As full of peril and advent'rous spirit As to o'erwalk a current roaring loud, On the unsteadfast footing of a spear. Hotspur — If he fall in, good night ! — or sink or swim, Send danger from the East unto the West, So honor cross it from the North to South, And let them grapple. O, the blood more stirs To rouse a lion than to start a hare ! Northumberland — Imagination of some great exploit Drives him beyond the bounds of patience. Hotspur — By Heaven, methinks it were an easy leap To pluck bright Honor from the pale-faced moon; Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honor by the locks, So he that doth redeem her thence might wear, Without corrival, all her dignities. But out upon this half- faced fellowship. Worcester — He apprehends a world of figures here, But not the form of what he should attend. Good cousin, give me audience for awhile, And list to me. Hotspur — I cry you mercy. Worcester — Those same noble Scots. That are your prisoners — HOTSPUR— I'll keep them all. By Heaven! he shall not have a Scot of them: No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not: I'll keep them, by this hand ! Worcester — You start away, And lend no ear unto my purposes: Those prisoners you shall keep. Hotspur — Nay, I will; thats flat. He said he would not ransom Mortimer; Forbade my tongue to speak of Mortimer; But I will find him when he lies asleep, And in his ear I'll holla — "Mortimer!" 62 Redding and Public Speaking. Nay, I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak Nothing but "Mortimer," and give it him, To keep his anger still in motion. Worcester — Hear you, cousin; a word. Hotspur — All studies here I solemnly defy, Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke, And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales — But that I think his father loves him not, And would be glad he met with some mischance, I'd have him poisoned with a pot of ale. Worcester — Farewell, kinsman. I will talk to you When you are better tempered to attend. — Shakespeare. PART TWO V ocal Culture and Technique Useful as a Foundation for Common Reading. Reading and Public Speaking. 65 LESSON XVII. FORCE. Force is the power or energy with which sound waves are sent forth from the vocal chords, and has reference to the de- gree of strength of the voice. Force should not be confused with loudness, which is strong force plus vibration. We may give a large amount of force or energy to a sound without intro- ducing loudness. In the sentence, "Don't you ever speak that way to me again," there may be great force but little loud- ness. Speakers differ in their range in degrees of force, so that a student attempting to imitate some forceful orator, speak- er, or teacher, produces a strained and unnatural effect. The problem of each individual is to cultivate strength of voice so that the thought or emotion rising within him may find a suitable mechanism for powerful expression. Because force is such an important factor in each of the three kinds of utterance, it is essential that there should be a thorough comprehension of this important element in speak- ing. As mechanical force produces motion, so a forceful speak- er moves his audience. The same force applied throughout a succession of sen- tences, makes the speaking all one thickness like a rope. As variety in intonation is essential to melody, so is it necessary to have the lights and shades of varying force. From the stand- point of mechanical production, force may be said to have its inception in the muscles of the abdomen, but it is the thought, emotion or sentiment that calls forth the different degrees. In nature the different degrees of force may be recognized in the clapping of hands, the popping of fire crackers, the firing of musketry, and the booming of cannon. At present we are concerned only with the mechanical side of the question. The emphasis of force will be considered in a later lesson. The numerous degrees of force possible of production is illustrated in the diagram on the following page. Exercises. 1. Sound the vowels throughout the degrees of force. 2. Sound the numerals to ten throughout the degrees of force. 3. Sound the word louder throughout the degrees of force. 4. Pronounce the following sentences throughout the degrees of force: I impeach him ! The war must go on. The love of liberty. Independence now and independence forever. 66 Reading and Public Speaking. VERY LOUD LOUD mm MODERATE SOFT • •••••• VERY SOFT GENTLE FORCE. The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. MODERATE. Do not look for wrong and evil — You will find them if you do; As you measure for your neighbor He will measure back to you. Look for goodness, look for gladness, You will meet them all the while; If you bring a smiling visage To the glass, you meet a smile. LOUD. It is done ! Clang of bell and roar of gun! Send the tidings up and down. How the belfries rock and reel ! How the great guns peal on peal, Fling the joy from town to town! Ho, trumpets, sound a war note! Ho, lictors, clear the way! The knights will ride, in all their pride, Along the streets to-day. The storm is out; the land is roused; Where is the coward who sits well housed? Fie on thee boy, disguised in curls, Behind the stove, 'mong gluttons and girls. Forth in the van, Man by man! Swing the battle sword who can! Reading and Public Speaking. 6j VERY LOUD. Forward the light brigade! Charge for the guns ! Call the watch ! call the watch ! "Ho! the starboard watch ahoy!' Up drawbridge, groom ! What, warder, ho ! Let the portcullis fall! They strike! hurrah! the fort has surrendered! Shout ! shout ! my warrior boy, x\nd wave your cap, and clap your hands for joy! Cheer answer cheer, and bear the cheer about. Hurrah ! hurrah ! for the fiery fort is ours. Victory! victory! victory!" Is the shout. Shout! for the fiery fort is ours, and the field And the day are ours! These exercises may well be omitted until after the con- sideration of the Orotund, in Lesson 19. LESSON XVIII. THE THREE MODES OF UTTERANCE. {Correct Breathing Basic.) Effusive. In effusive utterance the breath is gently effused or breathed out. Force is applied smoothly and evenly so that the sound flows forth gently, and without sound. It is repre- sented in the moan of the wind, the notes of the dove, the howl of the dog, the moans of the child; and is employed in solemnity, reverence, gloom, etc. Utterance ranges from the whisper to shouting and call- ing. In order to cover this range let us proceed, first by prac- ticing whispering, which is nearest in style and effect to breath- ing. "Effusive Whispering. Practice the following on the scale of Public Speaking, i. e., with a force sufficient to create full and distinct articula- tion and intelligible utterance in a large hall. Whispering on this scale demands the full expansion of the chest, a deep in- spiration, a powerful expulsion of the breath, and the practice of frequent pausing and renewing the supply of breath. 68 Reading and Public Speaking. From Nearer Home. One sweetly solemn thought Comes to me o'er and o'er : I'm nearer my home to-day Than I ever have been before. Nearer my Father's house Where the many mansions be: Nearer the great white throne; Nearer the crystal sea. Nearer the bounds of life, Where we lay our burdens down; Nearer leaving the cross, Nearer gaining the crown. Phoebe Cary. Breathe out the following effusively. Yon deep bark goes Where traffic blows, From lands of sun to lands of snows: — This happier one, Its course is run From lands of snow to lands of sun. Oh, happy ship, To rise and dip, With the blue crystal at your lip. Oh, happy crew, My heart with you vSails, and sails, and sings anew. No more, no more. The worldly shore Upbraids me with its loud uproar, With dreamful eyes My spirit lies Under the walls of Paradise. Thomas Buchanan Read. After studying Lesson 19 read the following, employing the effusive orotund. From Address to the Sun. O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers ! Whence art thy beams, O Sun! thy everlasting light! Ossian. From Hymn to the Night. Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this prayer! Descend with broad-winged flight, The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most fair, The best-beloved Night! Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Reading and Public Speaking. 69 From th£ Building of the Ship. The ocean old, Centuries old, Strong as youth, and as uncontrolled, Paces restless to and fro, Up and down the sands of gold. His beating heart is not at rest; And far and wide, With ceaseless flow, His beard of snow Heaves with the heaving of his breast. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. From the Burial of Moses. O, lonely tomb in Moab's land, O dark Beth-peor's hill. Speak to these curious hearts of ours. And teach them to be still. God hath His mysteries of Grace — Ways that we cannot tell; He hides them deep, like the secret sleep Of him He loved so well. Mrs. Cecil Francis Alexander. From Chii.de Haroux Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll ! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain, Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore; — upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown. LESSON XIX. EXPULSIVE UTTERANCE AND THE OROTUND. Expulsive utterance demands more of energy and impulse in the action of the vocal organs than in effusive utterance. Force is applied abruptly and quickly so that the sound rushes forth from the vocal organs. Listen to the babbling brook, the chatter of birds, the prattle of children and the unemotional conversation of people for the manifestation of this utterance. By it, man expresses ordinary thought, thoughts unmoved by emotion or excita- bility. jo Reading and Public Speaking. Orotund. Earnest or vehement declamation calls forth the expul- sive orotund. The orotund is represented in nature in the low deep tones of the pipe organ, the roar of the ocean, or the booming of distant cannon. The tone is expressive of ele- vated feeling, and arises naturally from a fullness of spirit, enlarged feeling, and an aroused imagination. Someone has said, "Develop the imagination, and the soul and the voice will grow through the effort of the soul to go out in expression." Mechanics are of little avail here. However, an analysis of the orotund tone production may be useful and even necessary for the beginner. Expulsive orotund arises from the forcible action of the abdominal muscles added to a full expansion of the chest, and deep inspiration. The criterion of the orotund, the round, full, rich quality of voice, is the acme of oratorical excellence. The forcible, dignified and manly eloquence of a Demos- thenes, a Chatham or a Webster, divested of the full and pow- erful emotion, and the resultant orotund would become ridic- ulous in its effect on the ear and the imagination. The orotund is manifest in effusive utterance in both the moderate and energetic degrees. The Effusive Orotund is the language of reverence, sublimity, and devotion. The act of crying is a perfect expulsive orotund. Exercises, 1. Practice the vowels, using the effusive orotund. 2. Practice the vowels using the expulsive orotund. 3. Whisper the following military command: Soldiers, you are now within a few steps of the enemy's outpost. Our scouts report them as slumbering in parties around their watch fires, and utterly unprepared for our ap- proach. One disorderly noise or motion may leave us at the mercy of their advanced guard. Let every man keep the strict- est silence, under pain of instant death. — Anonymous. 4. Repeat one several times expulsivdy. 5. Count to ten expulsively. (Repeat each numeral five times.) Impeachment of Warren Hastings. My Lords, you have now heard the principles on which Mr. Hastings now governs the part of Asia subjected to the British Empire. Here he has declared his opinion, that he is a despotic prince; that he is to use arbitrary power; and, of course, all his acts are covered with that shield. "I know," says he, "the Constitution of Asia only from its practice." Will Reading and Public Speaking. 71 your Lordships submit to hear the corrupt practices of man- kind made the principles of Government? He have arbitrary power! My Lords, the East India Com- pany have not arbitrary power to give him; the King has no arbitrary power to give him; your Lordships have not; nor the Commons; nor the whole Legislature. We have no arbi- trary power to give, because arbitrary power is a thing which neither any man can hold nor any man can give. No man can lawfully govern himself according to his own will, much less can one person be governed by the will of another. We are all born in subjection, all born equally, high and low, gov- ernors and governed, in subjection to one great, immutable, pre-existent law, prior to all our devices, and prior to all our contrivances, paramount to all our ideas and all our sensations, antecedent to our very existence, by which we are knit and connected in the eternal frame of the universe, out of which we cannot stir. My Lords, I do not mean to go further than just to re- mind your Lordships of this — that Mr. Hastings' government was one whole system of oppression, of robbery of individ- uals, of spoliation of the public, and of supersession of the whole system of the English government, in order to vest in the worst of the natives all the power that could possibly exist in any government; in order to defeat the ends which all gov- erments ought, in common, to have in view. In the name of the Commons of England, I charge all this villainy upon War- ren Hastings, in this last moment of my application to you. Therefore, it is with confidence that, ordered by the Com- mons of Great Britain, I impeach Warren Hastings of high crimes and misdemeanors. I impeach him in the name of the Commons of Great Britain in Parliament assembled, whose parliamentary trust he has abused. I impeach him in the name of the Commons of Great Bri- tain, whose national character he has dishonored. I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose laws, rights, and liberties he has subverted. I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose property he has destroyed, whose country he has laid waste and desolate. I impeach him in the name of human nature itself, which he has cruelly outraged, injured, and oppressed, in both sexes. And I impeach him in the name and by the virtue of those external laws of justice, which ought equally to pervade every age, condition, rank, and situation, in the world. — Edmund Burke. 72 Reading and Public Speaking. LESSON XX. EXPLOSIVE UTTERANCE. In Explosive Utterance, force is exerted instantaneously causing the sound to burst forth very abruptly. Explosive orotund implies an instantaneous burst of voice with a quick, clear, sharp, and cutting effect on the ear. It proceeds from a violent and abrupt exertion of the abdominal muscles, acting on the diaphragm and thus discharging a large volume of air previously inhaled. The breath is dashed against the glottis, or the lips of the larynx causing a loud and instan- taneous explosion. "This sound is heard in the sudden peal of thunder, the report of a gun, the crack of a whip, the stroke of a hammer, the clapping of hands, and the piercing laughter of children." Exercises. i. Repeat vowels explosively. 2. Repeat up several times explosively. 3. Repeat the numerals up to ten (each numeral ten times.) 4. Charge, Chester, charge. On, Stanley, on. 5. "Come one, come all, this rock shall fly From its firm base as soon as I." 6. "And if thou saidst, I am not peer To any Lord in Scotland here, Lowland or Highland, far or near, Lord Angus, thou hast lied ! "And darst thou then To beard the lion in his den, The Douglas in his hall? And hop'st thou hence unscathed to go? No, by St. Bride of Bothwell, no ! LESSON XXI PITCH. Pitch relates to the voice as high or low on the musical scale. It may be considered from the standpoint of location, variation, and the succession of speech notes on the scale. These divisions are termed respectively: Degree, Change, and Melody. In this lesson degree only will be considered, variation being left until a later lesson where it will be considered as the em- Reading and Public Speaking. 73 phasis of slide, an important element in the expression of thought and emotion. Degree of Pitch. The degree of pitch of an individual relates both to the compass or range of the voice from the highest to the lowest tone, and likewise to the position on the scale given to a particu- lar utterance. The various degrees of pitch are relative, and vary with different voices, some voices having a high range while others are low. Some voices are wide in range, while others are narrow, and employ but few notes in their melody. The problem before each individual is the cultivation of the greatest possible range for his own expression in order that he may express different thoughts and emotions the most ef- fectively. Compass of the Speaking Voice. The average voice can compass no more than thirteen or fourteen notes, something less than two octaves. If for con- venience that we divide this compass into five parts, called degrees. We might show the complete range by the diagram on page 74. VERY LOW. To be or not to be, — that is the question : Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The stings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die, — to sleep, — No more; and by sleep to say we end The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, — 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished. To die, — to sleep, — To sleep ! perchance to dream ! — ay there's the rub ; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause : there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? who'd these fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, — The undiscovered country from whose bourne No traveller returns, — puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Reading and Public Speaking. EFFU SIVE EXPULSIVE EFFUSIVE OROTUND EXP LOS EXPLOSIVE OROTUND IVE OROTUND ___ --': %~U 0x /f- N :-k \5. /,N CO o > 1> o ^ > > r en (n cn n h Ml D CD (_ m m m o "< m m r 71 * m 7 z 7 m m m 73 71 X m 3J UJ r H -< m m r > z o I U) 73 > 3J 33 3] 33 > N m K m z m •n en r n CO H m 33 m > z z m 33 > CO 5 in ~ r ■< tn m 2 > H m D > H m D 33 > cn 0) 33 C cn n 7J c cn z 33 c cn n D Z > 33 < D Z > 33 < r H > H i ' I H cn 7\ > ■< > r H 2 33 D Z u m > D > n H O fn > o z (_ -< c cn Z D > m -<. z H -< c W > 2 > O H O > 73 33 > < z m o c o 33 T3 H Z 33 33 > < D 33 Ml cn cn z < m 33 cn H u m m H > Ml cn 33 < -\ <: > ! o Z Ml z H () m z cn > m cn cn H Reading and Public Speaking. 75 Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all : And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought; And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action. Shakespeare. Low Pitch. In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men, fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face, the hair of my flesh stood up; it stood still; but I could not discern the form thereof; an image was before mine eyes; there was silence, and I heard a voice saying, "Shall mortal man be more just than God ! Shall a man be more pure than his Maker?" Middle Pitch. To be of good cheer because the world has been overcome and death vanquished; to feel one's self a part of the infinite meaning and value of life ; to feel the mortal putting on immor- tality, claiming an eternity for itself, and living as seeing Him who is invisible, because life means so much, and is worth such consecration and such courage and such faith — this is the ac- hievement and the message and everlasting gospel of the One to whom the prophet and the sages were clear but distant voices crying in the wilderness — "The Kingdom of Heaven is at Hand." — Fredrick C Dewhurst. High Pitch. THE HYMN OF THE STARS. Away, away! through the wide, wide sky, — The fair blue fields that before us lie, — Each sun with the worlds that round him roll, Each planet, poised on her turning pole, With her isles of green, and her clouds of white, And her waters that lie like fluid light ! For the source of glory uncovers his face, And the brightness o'erflows unbounded space; And we drink, as we go, the luminous tides In our ruddy air and our blooming sides; Lo, yonder the living splendors play! Away! on our joyous path, away! Away, away in our blossoming bowers, In the soft air wrapping these spheres of ours. In the seas and fountains that shine with morn, See, Love is brooding, and Life is born; And breathing myriads are breaking from night To rejoice like us, in motion and light! — Bryant. 76 Reading and Public Speaking. Very High Pitch. Pull, pull in your lassos, and bridle to steed, And speed, if ever for life you would speed; And ride for your lives. For your lives you must ride, For the plain is aflame, the prairie on fire. Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells, King John, your king and England's doth approach. Open your gates and give the victors sway. Shakespeare. Awake, awake! — Ring the alarm-bell,— Murder and treason!— Banquo and Malcolm! Donalbain ! awake! Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, And look on death itself! up, up, and see, The great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo! all! As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites, To countenance this horror. Shakespeare. LESSON XXII. PURITY OF TONE AND BRILLIANCY. Purity of tone should characterize all forms of utterance. The orotund should be round, full, and pure. Using the oro- tund expulsively, sound the vowels and see that no roughness of utterance ensues and that both chest and head resonance are present. In the head tone, the power or force producing the tone has its inception in the abdominal muscles, but the resonance is confined to the head. To secure purity of voice, no particle of breath must be left unvocalized. "He is the best speaker/' says Lennox Brown, "who can control the expiration so that the least possible amount of air sufficient to cause vibration is poured with cotinuous effect upon the vocal organs." After a deep inhalation, sound the vowels a, e, i, o, u, as long as possible letting no portion of air escape unvocalized, and note that no impurity of tone takes place. Purity, clearness, and brilliancy of tone is enhanced by directing the tones to the front part of the mouth in order that the sound may strike against the hard palate, or sounding board, in the roof of the mouth. If the column of sound strikes the soft palate, a dull hollow quality of tone, void of brilliancy, is produced. Reading and Public Speaking. 77 Exercises. 1. Pronounce the following words, prolonging the vowel a few seconds, constantly endeavoring to direct the sound to the front resonant cavity and against the upper teeth: e, a, aw, ah, o, 00, yawn, aw, ah. day, may, bay, pay. eel, seal, peel, leal, keel. tile, file, mile, pile. do, moo, boo, pooh. Whisper vowels. Toss vowel sounds. Practice various musical scales. Selections. Insects generally must lead a jovial life. Think what it must be to lodge in a lily. Imagine a palace of ivory and pearl, with pillars of silver and capitals of gold, and exhaling such a perfume as never arose from human censer. Fancy again the fun of tucking one's self up for the night in the folds of a rose, rocked to sleep by the gentle sighs of summer air, nothing to do when you awake but to wash yourself in a dewdrop and fall to eating your bed clothes. Near the city of Sevilla, years and years ago, Dwelt a lady in a villa, years and years ago; And her hair was black as night And her eyes were starry bright; Olives on her brow were blooming; Roses red her lips perfuming; And her step was light and airy As the tripping of a fairy. Ah! that lady of the villa, — and I loved her so, Near the city of Sevilla, years and years ago. —Walter. ANNABEL LEE. It was many and many years ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden lived, whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden, she lived with no other thought Than to love, and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea; But we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee, With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. 78 Reading and Public Speaking. And this was the reason that long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her high-born kinsman came, And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulcher, In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not so happy in heaven, Went envying her and me. Yes! that was the reason (as all men know) In this kingdom by the sea, That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we, Of many far wiser than we; And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee, And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. And so, all the night-tide I lie down by the side Of my darling, my darling, my life, and my bride, In her sepulcher there by the sea, In her tomb by the sounding sea. — Edgar Allan Poe. Read the following with brilliancy : Hear the mellow wedding bells — Golden bells! What a world of happiness their harmony foretells, Through the balmy air of night How they ring out their delight From the molten-golden notes, And all in tune! — Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gust of euphony voluminously wells, How it swells, How it dwells, On the future, how it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells. Reading and Public Speaking. 79 LESSON XXIII. VARIETY IN INTONATION AND FORCE. Should the singer's voice remain on one note continuously he would be singing in a monotone. Let a speaker use no variation of tone in speaking and he would be monotonous. The speaker needs to have an easy command of the lower, middle, and higher registers of his voice, if he desires to express various thoughts and emotions in a pleasing and effective manner. Phillips said of O'Connell that his voice sounded the gamut. The speaker with a voice all of one thickness like a rope can never please, as the ear soon grows tired of one sound. The most pleasing speaker is he who has such command of his voice that it will slide readily, smoothly, and melodiously up and down on the musical scale. The untrained vocalist can reach neither a very low nor a very high note ; likewise the un- trained speaker can in no manner sound the gamut as the voice clings closely to the notes about middle pitch, striking the same tone again and again with a monotonous thud. Laugh up the arpeggio as indicated in diagram, cutting off the last note sharply. Laugh down. Continue chromatic- ally as far as voice will, permit. Laugh up and down. O- o: -©- ^O" n % o ^ 23^ T5L 22 TT "CJ Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! 8o Reading and Public Speaking. N . .J H . .0 . . H J . . N D . I E . . N E . . D D . . E N . . E I . . D Employ other words with different number of syllables as in- dicated above. Foot? And Hand Us Bound H ave Sir, Shall We Enemies Are Our Not Until Weak Hope If Of We Phantom Make Delusive A The Proper Hugging Use And Of Backs Those Our Means On Which Supinely The Lying God By Of Resistance Nature Effectual Hath Of Placed Means In The Our Acquire Power We Review Wesson 17. Reading and Public Speaking. 81 LESSON XXIV. RESONANCE. Resonance, or the increase of sound by reflection or the co-vibration of other bodies, assists in securing volume for the voice. In expulsive or explosive orotund the resonance is felt in all the air chambers of the body, especially in the large cavity of the chest, while, in the effusive utterance, the reson- ance is confined to the cavities of the mouth, nose, and pharynx, and hence is called the headtone. Repeat the vowels expulsively and explosively, noting the resonance. Employ the following words in various pitches bringing out the head resonance: — ring, sing, ling, ding, bingle, dingle, jingle, chingle, mingle, ringle, single, tingle. Place hand flat on forehead just above nose and feel the nasal vibration. Read some selection like Poe's "Bells" for practice. THE BELLS. I. Hear the sledges with the bells — Silver bells. What a world of merriment their melody foretells ! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night ! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight, Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. II. Hear the mellow wedding bells, Golden bells ! What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! Through the balmy air of night How they ring out their delight! From the golden notes, All in tune, What a liquid ditty floats To the turtle dove that listens, while she gloats On the moon ! 82 Reading and Public Speaking. Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gush of euphony voluminously wells ! How it swells, How it dwells On the Future; how it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells ,bells, bells— To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells! III. Hear the loud alarum bells — Brazen bells ! What a tale of terror now, their turbulency tells! In the startled air of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire, Leaping higher, higher, higher, With a desperate desire, And a resolute endeavor Now — now to sit, or never, By the side of the pale-faced moon. Oh, the bells, bells, bells ! What a tale their terror tells Of despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar! What a horror they outpour On the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the ear, it fully knows, By the twanging And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows; Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells- Of the bells— Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— In the clamor and the clangor of the bells ! IV. Hear the tolling of the bells- Iron bells ! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels In the silence of the night, Reading and Public Speaking. 83 How we shiver with affright With the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats, From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people — ah, the people — They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, And who, tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone — They are neither man nor woman — They are neither brute nor human — They are Ghouls : And their king it is who tolls; And he rolls, rolls, rolls, Rolls A paean from the bells! And his merry bosom swells With the paean of the bells ! And he dances, and he yells, Keeping time, time, time, To the paean of the bells — Of the bells : Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the throbbing of the bells — Of the bells, bells, bells— To the sobbing of the bells, Keeping time, time, time, As he knells, knells, knells, In a happy Runic rhyme, To the rolling of the bells — Of the bells, bells, bells, To the tolling of the bells — Of the bells, bells, bells, bells; Bells, bells, bells,— To the moaning and the groaning of the bells! E. A. Foe. LESSON XXV. VOCAL ENERGY. The foregoing lessons have involved the development of strength in the action of the diaphragm and the muscles of the walls of the abdomen, the development of the muscles of the chest, and the expansion of the lungs, and the flexibility in the muscles of the thorax and throat. The voice should now have sufficient energy and strength to compass the following exer- cises : 84 Reading and Public Speaking. Shout with sustained force, or the calling voice, the vowels a, e, i, o, u. Prolonging each vowel five or ten seconds. A call is the highest and intensest form of "pure tone." In order that the voice may not be harmed, absolute purity of tone is here essential. Shout the numerals up to ten. Read in the calling voice the following sentences : Ho, Ship Ahoy! All aboard! The Herald calls from the plain to the listeners on the distant city walls : Rejoice you men of Angiers, ring your bells; King John, your king and England's, doth approach. Char-coal, Char-co-al. Char-cooooooo-al. Hear ye! Hear ye! The polls of this election will close in one hour. Katherine, Queen of England, come into the court! Thou, too, sail on, O ship of State ! Forward the light Brigade ! Charge for the guns ! Blow on, this is the land of liberty ! Practice for two minutes on each of the following daily. 1. Deep breathing. 2. Whispering of Lessons 18, 19, 20. 3. Deep reading of Lesson 18. 4. High pitch reading of Lesson 21. 5. Shouting of Lesson 25. 6. A selected oration. LESSON XXVI. VOLUME. Volume depends upon the length and regularity of inspir- ation; management of breath in expiration; together with energy and resonance combined in a given tone. Volume reaches its full power in the round, full, rich utterance of the orotund. With proper management of breath, and the use of the ab- dominal muscles sound the following resonantly: be, ba, baw, bah, bo, boo, boat. Read the following with the greatest possible volume : Reading and Public Speaking. 85 BOAT SONG.— From The Lady of the Lake. Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances ! Honor'd and bless'd be the ever-green Pine ! Long may the tree, in his banner that glances, Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line ! Heaven send it happy dew, Earth lend it sap anew, Gayly to bourgeon, and broadly to grow, While every Highland glen Sends back our shout again, "Roderigh Vich Alpine Dhu, ho! ieroe" ! Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain, Blooming in Beltane, in winter to fade; When the whirlwind has stripp'd every leaf on the mountain, The more shall Clan- Alpine exult in her shade. Moor'd in the rifted rock, Proof to the tempest's shock, Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow ; Menteith and Breadalbane, then, Echo his praise agen, "Roderigh Vich Alpine Dhu, ho ! ieroe" ! Proudly our pibroch has thrill'd in Glen Fruin, And Bannochar's groans to our slogan replied; Glen Luss and Ross-Dhu, they are smoking in ruin, And the best of Loch-Lomond lie dead on her side. Widow and Saxon maid Long shall lament our raid, Think of Clan- Alpine with fear and with woe; Lennox and Leven-glen Shake when they hear agen, "Roderigh Vich Alpine Dhu, ho ! ieroe" ! Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the Highlands ! Stretch to your oars, for the ever-green Pine! O that the rosebud that graces yon islands, Were wreathed in a garland around him to twine! O that some seedling gem, Worthy such noble stem, Honor'd and bless'd in their shadow might grow! Loud should Clan-Alpine then Ring from her deepmost glen, "Roderigh Vich Alpine Dhu, ho! ieroe!" Sir Walter Scott. S6 Reading and Public Speaking. LESSON XXVII. COMMON READING. Common Reading includes conversations, essays, and news- paper compositions, together with Narrative, Didactic, and Descriptive styles. It is the kind of reading that is met in the practical every day life of each individual, hence proper utterance is here extremely important. 1. Prepare and give without notes a five minute speech on Current Events. 2. Read the following, criticizing your own efforts, and the efforts of your classmates. Read in an easy, well modulated, and conversational style, paying particular attention to Dis- tinctness of Enunciation, Strength, Purity, and Variety of Tone. Jump-Off-Toe. On the Coast just north of Nye Beach at Newport, Ore- gon, is a prominent rock, extending some distance into the ocean. An Indian legend thus accounts for this freak of na- ture: Many long years ago a white winged ship became a broken, shapeless wreck. The only survivor was a beautiful white maiden, who was washed ashore and, by the skillful care of the Indians, restored to life. She was adopted by the chief, and it was not long before she was much loved by all the tribes. Now, the old chief had a son, who, before the white maiden came, had wooed and won the heart of a maid of his tribe. All was changed now; his affections were all for the beautiful pale face girl, and this so angered the Indian maid that all her efforts thereafter were devoted to ridding herself of so dangerous a rival. At last she poisoned her, and, taking her body to the top of the high rock overlooking the ocean, cast her into the mighty water below. After this the chief's son lost interest in life, and not many days later, on a dark, stormy night, he sought the high rock and jumped to his death in the roaring water that was lashed into foam at the foot of the steep cliff. Ever since, when the nights are dark and the storm rages and tosses the troubled waters against the rocky shore, there can be heard his spirit's piteous moaning for the lost white maiden. When the early settlers came to Yaquina, they heaid this story from the Indians, and called the rock Jump-Off-Joe. Cheerfulness. A cheerful man is pre-eminently a useful man. He knows that there is much misery, but that misery is not the rule of Reading and Public Speaking. 87 life. He sees that in every state people may be cheerful; the lambs skip, birds sing and fly joyously, puppies play, kittens are full of joy, the whole air is full of careering and rejoicing insects — that everywhere the good outbalances the bad, and that every evil that there is has its compensating balm. Cheer- ful people live long in our memory. We remember joy more readily than sorrow, and always look back with tenderness on the brave and cheerful. Addison says of cheerfulness, that it lightens sickness, poverty, affliction; converts ignorance into an amiable sim- plicity, and renders deformity itself agreeable. "Give us, therefore, oh ! give us" — let us cry with Carlyle — "the man who sings at his work." He will do it better — he will persevere longer. One is scarcely sensible of fatigue whilst he marches to music. The very stars are said to make har- mony as they revolve in their spheres. There is ever sunshine somewhere; and the brave man will go on his way rejoicing, content to look forward, not bating one jot of heart or hope if for a moment cast down; honoring his occupation, whatever it may be, rendering even rags respectable by the way he wears them; and not only being happy himself, but causing the happiness of others. — /. H. Friswkix. At length Mr. Dombey, one Saturday, when he came down to Brighton to see Paul, who was then six years old, resolved to make a change, and enroll him as a small student under Dr. Blimber. Whenever a young man was taken in hand by Dr. Blimber, he might consider himself sure of a pretty tight squeeze. The doctor only undertook the charge of ten young gentlemen, but he had always ready a supply of learning for a hundred, and it was at once the business and delight of his life to gorge the unhappy ten with it. In fact Doctor Blimber's establishment was a great hot- house, in which there was a forcing apparatus incessantly at work. All the boys blew before their time. Mental green peas were produced at Christmas, and intellectual asparagus all the year round. No matter what a young gentleman was intended to bear, Doctor Blimber made him bear to pattern, somehow or other. This was all very pleasant and ingenious, but the system of forcing was attended with its usual disadvantages. There was not the right taste about the premature productions; and they did'nt keep well. Moreover, one young gentleman, with a swollen nose and an excessively large head (the oldest of the ten who had gone through everything), suddenly left off blowing one day, and remained in the establishment a mere stalk. And people did say that the Doctor had rather over- 88 Reading and Public Speaking. done it with young Toots, and that when he began to have whiskers he left off having brains. — Dickens. Hami^t's Instruction to the Players. Speak the speech I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue ; but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spake my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand thus, but use all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a tem- perance that may give it smoothness. Oh ! it offends me to the very soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters — to very rags — to split the ears of the ground- lings; who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inex- plicable dumb show and noise. I would have such a fello^ whipped for o'er-doing Termagant; it out-herods Herod. Pray you, avoid it. Be not too tame, neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor. Suit the action to the word; the word to the ac- tion; with this special observance — that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature ; for anything so overdone is from the pur- pose of playing; whose end, both at the first and now, was, and is, to hold, as t'were, the mirror up to nature : — to show vir- tue her own feature ; scorn her own image ; and the very age and body of the time, her form and pressure. Now this, over- done or come tardy off, though it make the unskillful laugh, can not but make the judicious grieve, the censure of which one, must, in }^our allowance, o'erweigh a whole theater of others. Oh ! there be players, that I have heard play, and heard others praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, that, neither having the accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, or man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made man, and not made him well — they imitated humanity so abomin- ably ! — Shakespeare. Not even the magnificent harbor of Constantinople, in which security, depth, and expanse are combined, can rival the peerless, land-locked Bay of San Francisco. How shall we de- scribe it? You are sailing along the high coast of California, when suddenly a gap is seen, as if the rocks had been rent asunder; you leave the open ocean and enter the strait. The mountains tower so high on either hand that it seems but a stone's throw from your vessel to the shore, though in reality, it is a mile. Slowly advancing, an hour's sail brings you to where the strait grows still narrower ; and lo ! before you, ris- ing from the very middle of the waters, a steep rock towers aloft like a giant warder of the strait. Reading and Public Speaking. 89 Generally speaking-, an author's style is a faithful copy of his mind. If you would write a lucid style, let there first be light in your own mind ; and if you write a grand style, you ought to have a grand character. A man's true wealth hereafter is the good he does in this world to his fellow men. When he dies, people will say, "What property has he left behind him?" But the angels who examine him will ask, "What good deeds hast thou sent before thee." Whatever your lot on earth, is it not better than you de- serve? And amidst all your troubles, have not you much to be thankful for? There are sadder hearts than yours; go and comfort them, and that will comfort you. Are you ill and suf- fering? By your gentle patience be an example to those who are suffering too. It is the selfish manner in which we live, en- grossed by our own troubles, which renders us unmindful of those of others ; we hurry through the streets, intent on some business of our own, heeding not the many little acts of kind- ness we could do for one another which would send us home with a light heart. How often do we sigh for opportunities of doing good whilst we neglect the openings of Providence in little things which would frequently lead to the accomplishment of most important usefulness. Dr. Johnson used to say, "He who waits to do a great deal of good at once, will never do any." Good is done by degrees. I remember seeing, through Lord Rosse's telescope, one of those nebulae which have hitherto appeared like small masses of vapor floating about in space. I saw it composed of thousands upon thousands of brilliant stars; and the effect to the eye — to mine at least — was as if I had had my hands full of diamonds and suddenly unclosing it and flinging them forth, they were dispersed as from a center, in a kind of partly irregular, partly fan-like form. It was most wondrous and beautiful to see. Exert your talents and distinguish yourself, and don't think of retiring from the world until the world will be sorry that you retire. I hate a fellow whom pride, or cowardice, or laziness, drives into a corner, and who does nothing when he is there but sit and growl. Let. him come out as I do and bark. Pii^ar Rock. Every one who has gone up or down the Columbia River has noticed a strange lone rock in the middle of the stream. go Reading and Public Speaking. The presence of this rock is explained by a beautiful Indian leg-end : It was many, many centuries ago, when a great many Indians lived on both sides of the river. In this long-ago time, the Indian maidens at certain seasons of the year, were accus- tomed to assemble on the shore and dig wappatoes; and every night at the close of their labors they sat around the wigwan fires and sang sweet songs of heroic deeds. These songs could be heard by the Indians on the other side of the river, and one young warrior became so enchanted with the singing that he longed to cross over and win for his wife one of the maidens who could sing so sweetly. This longing grew on him until he could stand it no longer, so he decided that he would wade the river the next day, and ask in marriage the fairest of the mai- dens. As he was about to carry his plans into effect, the Co- yote came along and advised him not to wade the river, for if he did he would surely be turned to stone, and all people as long as the world lasted would be able to wade it at that place. This caused the young warrior to change his mind, but that night he heard the sweet singing again, so he once more resolved to wade the river when the Coyote was not around. The next morning he arose early, and, finding the coast clear, he started on his journey and had waded to the place where Pillar Rock now stands, when the Coyote appeared on the bank. The young warrior was immediately turned to stone, and there he has stood for centuries as a silent reminder to those who would, in spite of everything, carry out their own desires when they have been well advised otherwise. The Ride of Ichabod Crane. It was the very witching time of night that Ichabod pur- sued his travel homeward along the sides of the lofty hills which rise above Tarrytown. In the dead hush of midnight, he could hear the barking of the watch dog from the opposite shore of the Hudson, and now and then the long-drawn crow- ing of the cock would sound far, far off, from some farmhouse. No signs of life occurred near him, but occasionally the melan- choly chirp of a cricket, or the guttural twang of a bull frog from a neighboring marsh. All the stories of ghosts and goblins that he had heard in the afternoon now came crowding upon his recollection. The night grew darker and darker; the stars seemed to sink deeper in the sky, and driving clouds occasionally hid them from his sight. He never felt so lonely and dismal. He was, more- over, approaching the very place where many scenes of the ghost stories had been laid. In the center of the road stood an enormous tulip tree, which towered like a giant above all the other trees, and formed a kind of landmark. Its limbs were gnarled and fantastic, twist- Reading and Public Speaking. 91 ing down almost to the earth, and rising again into the air. This tree was connected with the tragical story of Andre, who had been taken prisoner hard by, and the common people re- garded it with a mixture of respect and superstition, partly out of sympathy for the fate of its ill-starred namesake, and partly from the tales of strange sights and doleful lamenta- tions, told concerning it. As Ichabod approached this fearful tree, he began to whistle. He thought his whistle was answered. It was but a blast sweeping sharply through the dry branches. As he ap- proached a little nearer, he thought he saw something white, hanging in the midst of the tree. He paused and ceased whist- ling, but on looking more narrowly, perceived that it was a place where the tree had been scathed by lightning, and the white wood laid bare. Suddenly he heard a groan, — his teeth chattered and his knees smote against the saddle; it was but the rubbing of one huge bough upon another, as they were swayed about by the breeze. He passed the tree in safety, but now new perils lay before him. About 200 yards from the tree, a small brook crossed the road, and ran into a marshy, thickly-wooded glen. A few rough logs laid side by side served for a bridge over the stream. On that side of the road where the brook entered the wood, a group of oaks and chestnuts, matted thick with wild grape- vines, threw a cavernous gloom over it. It was at this identical spot that the unfortunate Andre was captured, and under the covert of those chestnuts and vines were the sturdy yeomen concealed who surprised him. As Ichabod approached the stream, his heart began to thump. He, however, summoned up all his resolution, gave old Gunpowder, his horse, half a score of kicks in the ribs, and attempted to pass briskly across the bridge ; but instead of start^ ing forward, the perverse old animal made a lateral movement and ran broadside against the fence. Ichabod, whose fears in- creased with the delay, jerked the reins on the other side, and kicked lustily with the contrary foot. It was all in vain. His steed started, it is true, but only to plunge to the opposite side of the road into a thicket of brambles and alder bushes. The schoolmaster now bestowed both whip and heel upon th* starveling ribs of old Gunpowder, who dashed forward, snuff- ling and snorting, but came to a stand just by the bridge, with a suddenness that nearly sent his rider sprawling over his head. Just at this moment a plashy tramp by the side of the bridge caught the sensitive ear of Ichabod. In the dark shadow of the grove on the margin of the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, black, and towering. It stirred not, but seemed gathered up in the gloom, like some gigantic monster ready to spring upon the traveler. The hair of the affrighted pedagogue rose upon his head 92 Reading and Public Speaking. with terror. What was to be done? To turn and fly was now too late; and besides, what chance was there of escaping ghost and goblin, if such it was, which could ride upon the wings of the wind? Summoning up, therefore, a show of courage, he demanded in stammering accents: "Who are you?" He received no reply. He repeated his demand in a still more agitated voice. Still there was no answer. Once more he cudgeled the sides of the inflexible Gunpowder, and shut- ting his eyes, broke forth with involuntary fervor into a psalm tune. Just then the shadowy object of alarm put itself itt motion, and with a scramble and a bound, stood at once in the middle of the road. Though the night was dark and dismal, yet the form of the unknown might now, in some degree, be ascertained. He appeared to be a horseman of huge dimen- sions, mounted on a black horse of powerful frame. Ichabod, who had no relish for this strange midnight com- panion, now quickened his steed, in hopes of leaving him be- hind. The stranger, however, quickened his horse to an equal pace. Ichabod pulled up, and fell into a walk, thinking to lag behind — the other did the same. Ichabod's heart began to sink within him; he endeavored to resume his psalm tune but his parched tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. There was something in the moody and dogged silence of this pertina- cious companion, that was mysterious and appalling. It was soon fearfully accounted for. On mounting a rising* ground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveller in relief against the sky, gigantic in height and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was horror-struck on perceiving that he was headless ! But his horror was still mere increased on observing that the head which should have rested on his shoulders was carried before him on the pummel of his saddle ! Ichabod's terror now rose to desperation ; he rained a shower of kicks and blows upon Gunpowder, hoping, by a sudden movement, to give his companion the slip — but the spectre started full jump with him. Away then, they dashed through thick and through thin, stones flying and sparks flash- ing at every bound. They had reached the road which turns oft to Sleepy Hol- low; but Gunpowder, who seemed possessed with a demon, in- stead of keeping up it, made an opposite turn and plunged headlong downhill to the left. This road led through a sandy hollow, shaded by trees for about a quarter of a mile, where it crossed a bridge, and just beyond swelled the green knoll on which stood a whitewashed church. As yet. the panic of the steed had given his unskillful rider an apparent advantage in the chase; but just as he had got halfway through the hollow, the girths of the saddle gave way, and he felt it slipping from under him. He seized it by the pommel and endeavored to hold it firm, but in vain; and had Reading and Public Speaking. 93 just time to save himself by clasping old Gunpowder about the neck, when the saddle fell to the earth, and he heard it trampled under foot by his pursuer. An opening in the trees now cheered him with the hopes that the church bridge was at hand. The wavering reflection of a star in the bosom of the brook told him that h^ was not mistaken. He saw the walls of the church dimly glaring un- der the trees beyond. He recollected the place where the ghostly competitor ought to disappear. "If I can but reach that bridge," thought Ichabod, "I am safe." Just then he heard the black steed panting and blowing close behind him; he even fancied that he felt his hot breath. Another convulsive kick in the ribs, and old Gunpowder sprang upon the bridge; he thundered over the resounding planks ; he gained the opposite side, and now Ichabod cast a look behind to see if his pursuer should vanish, according to rule, in a flash of fire and brim- stone. But just then he saw the goblin rising in his stirrups, and in the very act of throwing his head at him. Ichabod en- deavored to dodge the horrible missile, but too late. It en- countered his cranium with a tremendous crash — he tumbled headlong into the dust, and Gunpowder, the black steed, and the goblin rider, passed by like a whirlwind. The next morning the old horse was found without his saddle, and with the bridle under his feet, soberly cropping the grass at his master's gate. Ichabod did not make his appear- ance at breakfast — dinner hour came, but no Ichabod. Inquiry was set on foot, and after diligent investigation they came upon his traces. In one part of the road leading to the church was found the saddle trampled in the dirt; the tracks of horses hoofs deeply dented in the road and evidently at furious speed were traced to the bridge, beyond which, on the bank of a broad part of the brook, where the water ran deep and black, was found the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and close beside it a shattered pumpkin, but Ichabod never appeared. The old country wives maintain to this day that Ichabod was spirited away by supernatural means, but Brom Bones, who shortly after his rival's disappearance conducted Katrina in triumph to the altar, was observed to look exceedingly know- ing whenever the story of Ichabod was related, and always burst into a hearty laugh at the mention of the pumpkin, which led some to suspect that he knew more about the matter than he chose to tell. — Irving. Etty was appointed teacher of the students of the Royal Academy, having been preceded by a clever, talkative, scien- tific expounder of esthetics, who delighted to tell the young men how everything was done, how to copy this, and how to express that. A student came up to the new master: "How should I do this, sir?" "Suppose you try." Another: "What 94 Reading and Public Speaking. does this mean, Mr. Etty?" "Suppose you look." "But I have looked." "Suppose you look again." THE ELDER BROTHER. Part First. A gentleman of England had two sons, the elder of whom, eager for adventure, and weary of the restraints of home, ob- tained his father's permission to go abroad. Ten years later, a traveller, prematurely old, covered with rags and dust, stopped at an inn near the paternal estate. No- body knew him; although, by his conversation, he appeared to have had some previous acquaintance with the neighbor- hood. Among other questions, he asked concerning the father of the two sons. "Oh, he's dead," said the landlord; "been dead these five years; — poor old man; dead and forgotten long ago." "And his sons?" said the traveller, after a pause; — "I be- lieve he had two." "Yes, he had. Thomas and James. Tom was the heir. But he was unsteady; had a roving disposition; gave his father no end of trouble ; — poor old man ! poor old man !" And the landlord, shaking his head sorrowfully, drained a good tankard of his own ale, by way of solace to his melancholy reflections. The traveller passed a trembling hand over his own pale brow and rough beard, and said again, — • "But James, the second son, — he is — alive?" "You would think so," said the landlord, smacking his lips. "Things have happened well for him. The old man is dead ; his brother dead too — "His brother dead?" said the traveller with a start. "Dead, or as good as dead. He went off on his travels ten years ago, and has never been heard of since. So James has come into the estate, — and a brave estate it is ; and a gay gentleman is James. What! going, sir?" "I beg your pardon," said the traveller rising. "I have business with this James." He proceeded at once to the house of the younger brother, whom he found just mounting his horse at the door of the paternal mansion. James taking him for a common beggar, repulsed him rudely; when the traveller cried out in deep agitation: "James! my brother James! Don't you know me? I am your long lost brother Thomas." "Thomas ! Zounds, Tom !" said James in utter astonish- ment. "Where in the name of wonder did you come from." "The ship in which I sailed fell into the hands of pirates. I was sold as a slave in Algiers. I have but lately made my Reading and Public Speaking. 95 escape, and begged my way home. O James !" sobbed forth the wretched man, quite overcome by his emotions. "Bless my heart ! is it possible !" said James, by this time recovering from his surprise, and beginning to think that for him to regain a brother was to lose an estate. "I heard you were dead ! I have the best evidence that you are dead ! I mean, that my brother James is dead. I don't know you, sir ! You must be an impostor, sir ! — Dick, send this beggar away 1" And without giving the amazed Thomas a chance to re- monstrate or prove the truth of his story, James leaped upon his horse and galloped off. The elder brother, driven from the house to which he was himself the rightful heir, — penniless, and a stranger in his own country, — returned to the village, where he endeavored in vain to enlist some old friends of his father in his behalf. His changed appearance justified them in refusing to recognize him; and his brother had now grown to be a man of influence whom they feared to offend. At last, however, he found an honest attorney to credit his story and undertake his cause. "If I win it for you," said he, "you shall give me a thous- and pounds. If I fail, I shall expect nothing, as you will have nothing to give. And failure is very likely; for your brother will be exceedingly liberal with your money, and it will be hard to find a judge, or jury, or witness, that he will not be able to bribe. But I will do what I can; and in the meantime I will advance you what money you need to live upon." Fully satisfied of Thomas' integrity, and moved by his expressions of gratitude to make still greater exertions in his behalf, the attorney resolved to go up to London, and lay the case before Sir Matthew Hale, the Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench, — a man no less conspicuous for his abilities than for his upright and impartial character. Sir Matthew listened with patience to the story, and also to the attorney's suspicions as to the means that would be used to deprive the elder brother of his right. "Go on with the regular process of the law," said he; "and notify me when the trial is to take place." The attorney did so; but heard nothing from Sir Matthew in reply. The day of trial came; and the elder brother's prospects looked dark in the extreme. That morning a coach drove up to the house of a miller in the neighboring town. A gentleman alighted and went in. After saluting the miller, he told him he had a request to make, which was that he would exchange his clothes with him, and allow his coachman to remain there with the carriage until the following day. The miller at first thought the stranger was joking, and on being convinced to the contrary, would fain have fetched his g6 Reading and Public Speaking. best suit; but no, — the stranger would have none but the dusty clothes he had on. The exchange was soon effected, and the stranger, transformed to a white-coated, honest-faced old mil- ler, proceeded on foot to the village where the court was sit- ting. Part Second. The yard of the court-hall was crowded with people wait- ing for the celebrated case to be called. Among them a sturdy miller — who must have come from a distance, since nobody knew him — was seen elbowing his way. The elder brother was there, looking pale and anxious. "Well, my friend," said the miller, accosting him, "how is your case likely to get on?" "I don't know," replied Thomas; — "badly, I fear; since I have reason to suppose that both judge and jury are heavily bribed, — while I have to depend solely upon the justice of my cause." Finding a sympathetic listener, he went on to relate all the circumstances of his case in a simple and sincere manner, which carried conviction with it. "Cheer up, my friend !" said the miller, grasping his hand. "I have had some experience in these cases, and perhaps I can help you a little. If you follow my advice, it can do no harm, and it may be of use to you." The elder brother willingly caught at anything that might give the least prospect of success. "Well, then," said the miller, "when the names of the jury are called over, object to one of them, no matter which. The judge will perhaps ask what your reasons are : then say, 'I ob- ject to him by the rights of an Englishman, without giving my reasons why. 5 Then if asked what person you would pre- fer in his place, you can look carelessly around and mention me. If I am impanelled, I think I may be of some use to you, — though I can't promise." Something in the honest old fellow's manner inspired con- fidence, and the elder brother gladly agreed to follow his di- rections. Soon the trial began. As the names of the jury were called, Thomas rose and objected to one of them. "And pray," said the judge, sternly, "why do you object to that gentleman as juryman?" "I object to him, my lord, by the rights of an Englishman, without giving my reasons why." "And whom do you wish to have in his place?" "An honest man, my lord, if I can get one !" cried Thomas looking around. "Yon miller, — I don't know his name, — I'd like him." "Very well," says his lordship, "let the miller be sworn." Reading and Public Speaking. 97 Accordingly the miller was called down from the gallery, and impanelled with the rest of the jury. He had not been long in the box, when he observed going about among the jurymen, a bustling, obsequious little man, who presently came to him, and smilingly slipped five guineas into his hand, intimating that they were a present from the younger brother. "Yonder is a very polite man !" said the miller to his next neighbor in the box. "I may well say so," said the delighted juryman, "since he has given me ten guineas to drink our friend James' health." And, on further inquiry, the miller discovered that each man had received double the sum presented to himself. He now turned his whole attention to the trial, which ap- peared to lean decidedly in favor of the younger brother; for while a few witnesses timidly testified to the plaintiff's strik- ing resemblance to the elder brother, others swore positively that the elder brother was dead and buried. When his lordship came to deliver his charge to the jury, he took no notice whatever of several palpable contradictions in the testimony of these false witnesses, but proceeded to ex- patiate upon the evidence as if it had been overwhelmingly in James' favor. When he had concluded, the usual question was put to the jury, were they all agreed? The foreman arose, with his ten guineas jingling in his pocket, and was about to reply, sup- posing all to have been equally convinced with himself, by the same golden arguments ; when the miller stepped forward, cal- ling out, — "No, my lord, we are not all agreed !" "And pray," said his lordship, frowning with contempt and impatience, "What objections have you?" "I have many objections, my lord ! In the first place, all these gentlemen of the jury have received ten broad pieces of gold from the younger brother, while I have received but fiYe !" Having made this simple announcement, to the consterna- tion of the court, and to the amusement of the spectators, the supposed miller proceeded to point out the contradictory evi- dence which had been adduced, in such a strain of eloquence that all present — especially the elder brother and the attorney — were filled with amazement. At length the judge, unable to contain himself, called out with vehemence, — "Who are you? where do you come from. — what is your name?" To which the miller calmly replied: "I come from West- minster Hall — my name is Matthew Hale — I am Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench; and convinced as I am of your entire unfitness to hold so high a judicial position, from having heard your iniquitous and partial proceedings this day, I com- mand you to come down from that tribunal which you have so disgraced. I will try this case myself." 98 Reading and Public Speaking. Sir Matthew then ascended the bench in his miller's coat and wig; ordered a new jury to be impanelled; re-examined the witnesses, and drew out confessions of bribery from those who had sworn to the elder brother's death. He then summed up the case anew, and it was unhesitatingly decided in the elder brother's favor. Tell to the class, in your own words, the two preceding stories, and select other stories from different sources for the same purpose. The window of my chamber looked out upon what in summer would have been a beautiful landscape. There was a sloping lawn, a fine stream winding at the foot of it, and a tract of park beyond, with noble clumps of trees, and herds of deer. At a distance was a neat hamlet, with the smoke from the cottage chimneys hanging over it; and a church with its dark spire in strong relief against the clear cold sky. The house was surrounded with evergreens, accord- ing to the English custom, which would have given almost an ap- pearance of summer; but the morning was extremely frosty; the light vapour of the preceding evening had been precipitated by the cold, and covered all the trees and every blade of grass with its fine crystallizations. The rays of a bright morning sun had a dazz- ling effect among the glittering foliage. A robin, perched upon the top of a mountain-ash that hung its clusters of red berries just before my window, was basking himself in the sunshine, and piping a few querulous notes ; and a peacock was displaying all the glories of his train, and strutting with the pride and gravity of a Spanish Grandee on the terrace walk below. — Washington Irving. PART THREE. Emphasis, and Delivery of Orations. Reading and Public Speaking. 101 LESSON XXVIII. FOREWORD FOR PART THREE. Every sound uttered embodies the elements of Quality, Force, Pitch, and Time. While every shade of expression ex- ists in their modifications and combinations, considering these elements from the standpoint of sound, merely, quantity is the kind of sound; Force is the power with which the sound is sent forth; Pitch is elevation or depression of a sound on the scale; and time is the duration of utterance. Effects in emphasis are brought about by action, and by means of the vocal elements just mentioned. In the following lessons leading up to the delivery of orations, the chief consid- eration will be the effectiveness of speech produced by emphasis. The vocal agencies used for emphasis are slide, pause, pitch, force, time, and quality. The ability to apply the principles enunciated in Part One and Two, together with the power to utilize properly the emphasis of slide, pause, pitch, time, and quality found in Part Three, will place the student in a position to deliver a dignified address like the oration with effectiveness. Some of the sub-heads such as quantity, movement, etc., apply more especially to poetry or imaginative literature and may be omitted from consideration until Part Four is reached. Emphasis of Force: (Stress). Form — Manner of exerting force. Degree — The measure of the power with which force is exerted. Stress — The location of Force upon certain parts of the sound or word. Through this stress the spe- cial significance or meaning is made known. Form and degree have been considered previously. It now remains to treat of stress. It has been seen that the ap^- plication of Force by giving a stroke to a certain word, thereby making it stand out prominently, is a certain means of em- phasis. Study carefully the diagram of stress on the pages fol- lowing. 102 Reading and Public Speaking. I - OS CO Ph CO to U a cu o c bO G o H o S . cu CC Cu £ cu o S W o JS bp XI H *>> s >> - >> G "S .2 & i-i CO £ .2 V G "cu 2 * P . . -a ^ c • c « c .2 *° .2 rt rt ? bi) rt rt « C a s s Igs J o ^> o o ^ G 3 fe S *« c^ pn OT . c C 3 co /^s 6 o G {-, . G o .2 8 fo ew "£ *£ o H-l O G £ tJ o O as -M +-> ^ CU J-l 03 o O hi "o3 ., '-5 .a o5 CU CO 03 [t. a 03 . i ■og'S ^ £ rt _; cu ^ O bo ^ 02 c .2 O u, *T3 CU to o g o .« cu • S <* M-l aS *" 1 1 O CO CD O bo 03 '2 as «2 W MH *0 MH 1 X a .s •a 'So c ° o o G ^ C ~ *G bO 03 G . 3SS *0 O -O o3 *v £ bO ^> S ^ 2 .S ™ w o 1 X O i X w W /— s o g "3 2 o u O o nJ cu g CU CU J-H cu _> C- _> .£ co "co 'co £> 5 Reading and Public Speaking. 103 +j a > a ■*-> w '3 > d 43" . -t-> • . . «- O iu ft >,c • g y t7a ^ £:d C ca m Pi Oi as as i>43 "' en U S tV3 ptf Q U *d -d . • .-S a G43 tuo bo ft & bb|f.S.S2 rt to en ej en . q_) ,-; e >..^ S „i -d iS . ^ aS O vi 43 b» a O CD CD-PI Vh CD OS X X 4h CD OS fe cxi H O H Cm W W < H (^ m Pi ft CD £ CD O 043 Ih «+H rt V 1 «-M 43 O & (0 CD "■8 4*i - a ba<~43 C 4 rco »-. O rt 42 •> ujuo u 2§i w ■£ a « 5 <" ft " Vh 5 3 # S> CD .> .> ^ "en "en > CO (fl P 1{2 ft > •^3 49 ,pi Cu CU it! X X w S w % WWW ft ft -t-> Pi *d ^ CP -1-3 T3 a PS a M ft S u $-1 CD 43 d U H I— 1 104 Reading and Public Speaking. ^Examples. RADICAL. How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle In the icy air of night, While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, — From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. Edgar A. Poe. FINAL STRESS. But here I stand and scoff you, here I fling Hatred and full defiance in your face, Your Consul's merciful; — for this all thanks He dares not touch a hair of Catiline, "Traitor," I go; but, I return. FROM THE SEMINOLE'S REPLY. I loathe ye in my bosom, I scorn ye with mine eye, And I'll taunt ye with my latest breath. And fight ye till I die ! G. W. Patton. MEDIAN. Endymion. The rising moon has hid the stars, Her level rays, like golden bars, Lie on the landscape green With shadows brown between. And silver white the river gleams, As if Diana, in her dreams, Had dropped her silver bow Upon the meadows low. THOROUGH. "O, heed the ancient landmarks well," In solemn tones exclaim'd a bell; No progress made by mortal man Can change the just, eternal plan: With God there can be nothing new; Ignore the false, embrace the true With all is well — is well — is well," Peal'd out the good old Dutch Church bell. Geo. W. Bungay. : Reading and Public Speaking. 105 VANISHING. I'll keep them all, — By Heaven! he shall not have a Scot of them, No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not; I'll keep them, by this hand ! — Shakespeare. COMPOUND STRESS. Gone to be married ! Gone to swear a peace ! False blood to false blood joined ! Gone to be friends ! Shall Lewis have Blanche, and Blanche these provinces? It is not so; thou hast misspoke, misheard, — Be well advised, tell o'er thy tale again, It cannot be; — thou dost but say it is so. INTERMITTANT STRESS. Adam (to Orlando). Dear master, I can go no farther: Oh I die for food. Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master. Find other illustrations of the different kinds of stress. LESSON XXIX. EMPHASIS OF THE SLIDE. Slide, or inflection is an upward or downward stroke of the voice through the octave on the musical scale or a portion thereof, the length of the slide being determined by the in- tensity of the thought or the emotion. This change of voice from one pitch to another is the most productive means of discriminative reading. In fact, inflection renders delicate shades of thought at once apparent, and is thereby a most important means of emphasis. Slide is employed in both intellectual and emotional ex- pression. It also performs a mechanical office in the sentence or paragraph, in which case it is termed the Mechanical Slide. Referring to the variation of voice produced by slide, Beecher said, "Men listen quite unaware that they have been bewitched out of their weariness by the charms of a voice, not artificial but made so by assiduous training to be their second nature." Attention must be held if the speaker hopes to in- struct or persuade, and inasmuch as variety of tone is a means to this end we must conclude that the proper inflection is a constituent element in reading and oratory. Mechanical slide is either up or down and is used at the close of a complete thought or in preparation for the close. The former is cadence, either partial or complete, while the latter marks the close of the penultimate clause of a sentence io6 Reading and Public Speaking. in preparation for its cadence. Complete cadence is used at periods where the whole thought has been expressed. Partial cadence is used at semicolons where complete thought has be^" expressed but not the whole thought of the paragraph. The complete cadence at the close of sentences and para- graphs is preceeded by the penultimate slide, which is an upward movement of the voice on the last word or words of the next to the last clause for the purpose of making the descent on the last clause both impressive to the mind and pleasing to the Mechanical Slide is instrumental in bringing about a pleasing de- livery in orations. The following paragraph illustrates partial cadence, the penultimate slide, and complete cadence. Character of George Washington. ''There are but three individuals upon whom mankind, with some approach to general consent, have bestowed the epithet of "the Great." Shall we compare our Washington for a mo- ment with each of them? Shall we compare him with Peter the Great of Russia, who flourished in the beginning of the century, and hewed that political colossus of the North into form and symmetry? A sovereign of vast, though often most ill-directed energy; a fearless, and on some occasions, a t>ene- ficient reformer; a consummate organizer, who, with a kind of rough tact, truly felt the pulse of national life in the Titanic frame which he called into being ; pursuing a few grand ideas, though often by eccentric methods bordering on madness, but with a resolution which no labors could weary and no dangers appall, and forcing them with an iron will upon an unsympa- thizing and apathetic people. These are his titles to the epithet of "Great;" but with them all he was an unmitigated tyrant, — the murderer, perhaps the torturer, of his own son; a man who united the wisdom of a philosopher and the policy of a great prince with the tastes of a satyr, the manners of a barbarian, and the passions of a fiend; guilty of crimes so hideous and re- volting, that if I attempted to describe them I should drive you shrieking from this hall. You surely would not permit me to place the name of Washington in comparison with his." Under this head also may be considered the "Upward Slide" of , incomplete, or suspended sense, together with the upward slide of unimpassioned interrogation. "We are all born in subjection, all borne equally, high and low, governors and governed, in subjection to one great, immutable, pre-existing law, prior to all our devices, and prior to all our contrivances, paramount to all our ideas and all our sensa- tions, antecedent to our very existence, by which we are knit- ted and connected in the eternal frame of the universe, out of which we cannot stir." Reading and Public Speaking. 107 "Does the work relate to the interests of mankind? Does it bear the marks of honesty and sincerety? Does a manly style of thinking predominate in it? Do reason, wit, humor, and pleasantry prevail in it? Does it contain new and useful truths?" Distinctive Slide. This slide is used in intellectual, not impassioned expres- sion. 1. Simple designation, Didactic Style. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some to be read, wholly with diligence and attention. 2. Narrative. "It was a very dark, miserable place, very low and very dark." 3. Descriptive. The first primrose of the spring peeped from the hedge along the lane. 4. Comparison, antithesis, contrast. "Let's kill him boldly but not wrathfully." "Lets carve him as a dish fit for the gods, not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds." "As it is the part of justice never to do violence, it is that of modesty never to commit offense." Things doubtful, anticipative, conditional, incomplete, and subordinate take the rising inflection; while decisiveness, posi- tiveness, conclusiveness, and completion of sense take the falling slide. Exampl es. Thus the holy virtue which is contained in the writings of St. Paul even in the simplicity of his style, preserves all the vigor it brings from the Heavens whence it has descended. — Bossuet. Christ died ninteen hundred years ago, and Spain is a Christian nation. She has set up more crosses in more lands, beneath more skies, and under them has butchered more people than all the other nations of the earth combined. Europe may tolerate her existence as long as the people of the Old World wish. God grant that before another Christmas morning the last vestige of Spanish tyranny and oppression will have van- ished from the Western Hemisphere. Can honor set a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honor hath no skill in surgery, then? No. What is honor? A word. What is that word honor? Air. Who hath it? He that died on Wed- nesday. Doth he feel it ? No. Doth he hear it ? No. Is it in- 108 Reading and Public Speaking. sensible then? Yes, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it. What would content you? Talent? No! Enterprise? No! Courage? No! Reputation? No! Virtue? No! The men whom you would select should possess, not one, but all of these. Ashamed to toil, art thou? Ashamed of thy dingy work- shop and dusty labor-field ; of thy hard hand, scarred with ser- vice more honorable than that of war; of thy soiled and weath- er-stained garments, on which Mother Nature has embroidered mid sun and rain, mid fire and steam, her own heraldic honors? Ashamed of these tokens and titles, and envious of the flount- ing robes of imbecile idleness and vanity? The Slide or Emotion. In intense emotion, the slide may cover an octave. Strong emotions are expressed chiefly by the downward slide. How- ever, surprise and impassioned interrogation usually adopt the upward slide. The following are some of the emotions that call forth either the upward or downward slide of the voice : Surprise ; Earnest Interrogation ; Remorse ; Eagerness ; Inquiry ; Emphatic Assertion: Anger; Fierce Impatience; Scorn; Im- petuous Courage; Fierce Determination. Analyze the following extracts, noting the emotion con- tained therein together with the words on which the slide oc- curs: "Is it come to this? Shall an inferior magistrate, a gov- ernor, who holds his whole power of the Roman people, in a Roman province, within sight of Italy, bind, scourge, torture with fire and red-hot plates of iron, and at last put to the in- famous death of the cross, a Roman citizen? Reputation, reputation, reputation ! Oh, I have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part, sir, of myself, and what remains is bestial — My reputation, Iago, my reputation. — Shakespeare. Coriolanus. Measureless Liar ! thou hast made my heart Too great for what contains it. Boy ! Cut me to pieces, Volcians : men and lads, Stain all your edges on me. Boy ! — Shakespeare. Reading and Public Speaking. 109 Macbeth and Servant. — Shakespeare. Macbeth. Where gott'st thou that goose look ? Servant. There is ten thousand — Macbeth. Geese, villian? Servant. Soldiers, sir. Macbeth. Co prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, Thou lily-livered boy. What soldiers, patch ? Death of thy soul ! those linen cheeks of thine Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey- face? Hamlet and Horatio. — Shakespeare. Hamlet. Armed, say you? All. Armed my lord. Hamlet. From top to toe? All. My lord, from head to foot. Hamlet. Then saw you not his face? Horatio. Oh, yes, my lord ; he wore his beaver up. Hamlet. What, looked he frowningly? Horatio. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. Hamlet. Pale or red? Horatio. Nay, very pale. Hamlet. And fixed his eyes upon you? Horatio. Most constantly Iago and Othello. — Shakespeare. Iago. Did Michael Cassio, when you wooed my lady, know of your love? Othello. Oh, yes ; and went between us very oft. Iago. Indeed ? OthELLo. Indeed! ay, indeed. — Discerns't thou aught in that? Is he not honest ? Iago. Honest, my lord? OthELLo. Ay, honest. Iago. My lord, for aught I know. Othello. What dost thou think ? Iago. Think, my lord ? Othello. Think, my lord ! By heaven he echoes me, as if there were some monster in his thought too hideous to be shown. The Circumflex. (Wave). In sarcasm, mockery,raillery, and other intense and keen emo- tions, the voice chooses the double slide, i. e., the upward and the downward on the same sound. no Reading and Public Speaking. Examples. And this man Is now become^a god ; and Cassius is A wretched creature, and must bend his body, If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. He had a fever when he was in Spain, And, when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake : 'tis true this god did shake : His coward lips did from their color fly ; And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, Did lose its luster. — Shakespeare. Gratiano to Shylock. — Shakespeare. Gratiano. O upright judge ! Mark, Jew : O learned judge ! O learned judge ! Mark, Jew : a learned judge ! O Jew, an upright judge, a learned judge. He, I warrant him, Believed in no other gods than those of the creed; Bowed to no idols — but his money-bags; Swore no false oaths — except at the custom-house. What should I say to you? Should I not say, Hath a dog money? is it possible A cur can lend three thousand ducats? None dared withstand him to his face, But one sly maiden spake aside; "The little witch is evil eyed ! Her mother only killed a cow, Or witched a churn or dairy pan; But she, forsooth, must charm a man!" The Monotone. In awe, reverence, solemnity, sublimity, grandeur, majesty, power, splendor, and all modes of feeling which imply vastness and force, especially when associated with the idea of the supernatural influence or agency, one tone, the median, is employed throughout. The monotone is used for impressive effect, and is effectively employed in the reading of devotional hymns, and portions of the scriptures. EXAMPLES. Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, Heaven and earth shall praise thy name In earth, and sky, and sea. Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty, God in three persons, blessed Trinity. Holy! holy! holy! Lord God of Sabaoth! There was silence, and I heard a voice saying, "Shall mortal man be more just than God? Shall a man be more pure than his Maker?" Reading and Public Speaking. in LESSON 30. EMPHASIS OF TIME.— QUANTITY. Time is the duration of utterance. The divisions are : 1. Quantity, or the length of utterance given to sounds in syllables. 2. Pause, or the cessation of utterance between sounds, or syllables, or words. 3 Movement, or the degree of rapidity or slowness given to successive sounds, syllables, or words. Quantity. Syllables from the standpoint of quantity are : 1. Immutable, or those incapable of prolongation, being com- posed of stopt sounds only. 2. Mutable, or syllables changeable in quantity. 3. Indefinite syllables, or those that may be prolonged to the fullest extent of quantity. Examples. 1. Immutable: duck, dock, pick, attack, neck, mat, lip, tip, up, rap, lap, sap, "Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff." Pick it up quick Jack. 2. Mutable : god, tub, nod, bad, mad, glad, sad, big, bet, yet, beset. "Not yet prepared.' ' 3. Indefinite. Long quantity is used to express the same sen- timents and emotions as in the Effusive Form, viz : pathos, solemnity, sorrow, sublimity, awe, reverence, adoration ; and with Expulsive Form, apostrophe, commanding, and calling. The skillful writer will choose Indefinite syllables to express the foregoing sen- timents. Examples : all, appall, awe, ball, air, care, afar, eve, appeal, ooze, moonless, morn, forlorn, ale, dew, boy, employ, holy. Pick out the Indefinites in the following excerpts : I'm on the sea, I'm on the sea, I am where I would ever be, With the blue above and the blue below, And silence where so'er I go. The rolling and the tolling of the bells. The moaning and the groaning of the bells. ii2 Reading and Public Speaking. "and every word its ardor flung From off its jubilant iron tongue, was War ! War ! War 1 O the long and dreary Winter! O the cold and cruel Winter! Ever thicker, thicker, thicker Froze the ice on lake and river; Ever deeper, deeper, deeper Fell the snow o'er all the landscape, Fell the covering snow, and drifted Through the forest, round the village. — Longfellow. LESSON 31. PAUSE. Grammatical Pauses. If there is an exact compliance with the direction to pause, in- variably for a given time at each point, there is likely to be engen- dered a uniform and mechanical style. Grammatical punctuation marks may serve as guide posts, but they should be followed only so far as they coincide with the meaning. It must be constantly borne in mind that there may be a a long pause of feeling where no grammatical point occurs. The grammatical pauses, the comma, semicolon, colon, and period, are founded on the syntactical struct- ure and sub-division of sentences. Rhetorical Pauses. Rhetorical pauses are those which the sense and structure of a sentence demand. They are addressed to the ear, and may, or may not, be indicated to the eye punctuation marks. Consult the following outline, and find, from your history or English lesson, applications of the principles indicated : Relative Pronouns. Conjunctions. Adverbs (generally). Infinitive Mood. Before Prepositions (generally). An Ellipsis. Adjectives and Adverbs following the words they modify. After The Nominative Phrase. The Objective Phrase in an inverted sentence. Emphatic Words (conditionally). Each member of a sentence. Reading and Public Speaking. 113 Noun when followed by an Adjective. Words in apposition. Words or phrases used independently. Intransitive verbs (conditionally). Between Words of a series. Words to mark ellipsis. Clauses. Before Any word or group of words expressing strong emotion. and Transposed words or phrases. After Words or phrases used in apposition. Direct quotations. Parenthetical expressions. Poetic and Oratorical Pauses. These pauses of emotion may be found in the expression of the following : Sorrow. Solemnity. Tenderness and Pride. Melancholy. Profound Solemnity, Awe, Sententious Thought. Horror. Oratorical Interrogation. Examples. Through days of sorrow and of mirth, Through days of death and days of birth, Through every swift vicissitude Of changeful time, unchanged it has stood, As if like God, it all things saw, It calmly repeats those words of awe, — Forever — never ! Never — forever ! Who's here so base that would be a bondman? — If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who's here so rude, that would not be a Roman ? — If any, speak ; for him have I offended. Who's here so vile, that will not love his country? — If any, speak; for him have I offended. — I pause for a reply. — Shakespeare. Work! Work! Work! My labor never flags ; And what are its wages? A bed of straw — A crust of bread — and rags — That shattered roof — and this naked floor — A table — a broken chair — And a wall so blank, my shadow I thank For sometimes falling there! ii4 Reading and Public Speaking, Find other illustrations representing the emotions indicated. Remember that each idea of a sentence is separated from adjacent ideas by pauses. When a word or phrase is withheld for the mo- ment, attention is excited, and emphasis is thereby obtained. A proper use of pausing demonstrates the speakers intellectuality. LESSON XXXII. MOVEMENT. Movement is the measure and rate given to successive sounds, syllables, or words in a sentence. Utterance takes on different va- riety of movement according to the different states of the mind or feeling. In excitement the utterance is rapid and irregular; when dignity demands it, the movement is slower and more measured. The symmetry of the pulsations of the voice is termed rythm, while the speed with which successive sounds are uttered is rate. Rath. Sentiments and passions have their appropriate rate of utter- ance. There is a difference in the movement of a funeral train and the charge of a body of cavalry. The rapidity of movement de- pends altogether upon the character of the thought. Rate should accommodate itself to the varying moods of man. When the emo- tion is lively, joyous or impetuous the natural rate is brisk. Import- ant or serious thought takes a slow rate of movement. Rate be- comes slower in proportion to the gravity or importance of the matter. In fact, rate is a most important means of emphasis for a variation of movement calls particular attention to the parts thus distinguished. The relation of pause and rate is obvious, the length of the pause corresponding to the rate of movement. Analyze the following selections, determining the rate of movement for each of the varying sentiments, and reciting them according to the analysis. Read Hamlet's Second Soliloquy on page 73. "Sunset and evening star, and one clear call for me, And may there be no moaning of the bar when I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep turns again home". I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles; I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. Reading and Public Speaking. 115 I chatter, chatter, as I flow, To join the brimming river; For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever. I slip, I slid, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows; I make the netted sunbeams dance Against my sandy shallows. All the little boys and girls, With rosy cheeks, and flaxen curls, And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls, Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after The wonderful music, with shouting and laughter. Browning. "HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX." I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he; I galloped, Dick galloped, we galloped all three; "Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew, "Speed !" echoed the wall to us galloping through. Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we galloped abreast. Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace, — Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place; I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then shortened each stirrup and set the pique right, Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit, Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit. 'Twas a moonset at starting; but while we drew near Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear; At Boom a great yellow star came out to see; At Diiffeld 'twas morning as plain as could be; And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half-chime, — So Joris broke silence with "Yet there is time!" At Aerschot up leaped of a sudden the sun, And against him the cattle stood black every one, To stare through the mist at us galloping past ; And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last, With resolute shoulders, each butting away The haze, as some bluff river headland it's spray; And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track; And one eye's black intelligence, — ever that glance O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance; And the thick heavy spume-flakes, which aye and anon His fierce lips shook upward in galloping on. By Hasselt Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, "Stay spur! Your Ross galloped bravely, the fault's not in her; We'll remember at Aix," — for one heard the quick wheeze Of her chest, saw the stretched neck, and staggering knees, And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank, As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank. n6 Reading and Public Speaking. So we were left galloping, Joris and I, Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky; The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh; 'Neath our feet broke the brittle, bright stubble like chaff; Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white, And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!" "How they'll greet us !" — and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim. Then I cast loose my buff-coat, each holster let fall, Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all, Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear, Called my Roland his pet name, my horse without peer, — Clapped my hands, laughed and sung, any noise, bad or good, Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. And all I remember is friends flocking round, As I sate with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground; And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine, As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine, Which (the burgesses voted by common consent) Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent. — Browning. Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, Brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats, Grave old plodders, gay young friskers, Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, Pointing tails and pricking whiskers, Families by tens and dozens, Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives — Followed the Piper for their lives. Pull, pull in your lassoes, and bridle to steed, And speed, if ever for life you would speed; And ride for your lives, for your lives you must ride, For the plain is aflame, the prairie on fire, And feet of wild horses, hard flying before, I hear like a sea breaking high on the shore : While the buffalo come like the surge of the sea, Driven far by the flame, driving fast on us three, As a hurricane comes, crushing palms in his ire. Lord, thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlast- ing, thou art God. Reading and Public Speaking. i\y O ye loud waves! and O ye forests high! And O ye clouds that far above me soared ! Thou rising sun! thou blue rejoicing sky! Yea, everything that is and will be free ! Bear witness for me, whereso'er ye be, With what deep worship I have still adored The spirit of divinest liberty! Wide as the world is his command, Vast as eternity His love; Firm as a rock His truth shall stand, When rolling years shall cease to move, LESSON XXXIII. EMPHASIS OF QUALITY. Quality of voice means the kind of voice, regardless of modula- tion, strength, or length of time given to the sound. Emphasis is produced through quality by changing from one quality to another, for instance, from a pleasant to a harsh or as- pirated quality. We express different thoughts and emotions by different quali- ties of voice. There are eight qualities of voice, viz. : i. Pure, 2. Orotund, 3. Oral, 4. Aspirate, 5. Guttural, 6. Pectoral, 7. Nasal, and 8, Fal- setto. The Pure and Orotund qualities have already been considered. For convenience the diagram on pages 118-119 is appended. EXAMPLES. O'RAI*. Adam. — Dear master, I can go no further: O, I die for food! Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master. — Shakespeare. Aspirate. Macbeth. — Didst thou not hear a noise? Lady Macbeth. — I heard the owls scream and the crickets cry. Did not you speak? Macbeth . — When ? Lady Macbeth. — Now. Macbeth. — As I descended? Lady Macbeth. — Ay. Macbeth. — Hark! Who lies i' the second chamber? Lady Macbeth. — Donalbain. n8 Reading and Public Speaking. B cu Wco co a3 o o -a en "? o U c •a o n rt 5 o .2 *b CO* O rt -B CO CU aS a . 13 U Q Is X CO 0) rt ,£3 u '^». O ,-v! to MH .B T1 u a. fl rfi o c 3 rt !h u s as J2 P^ >., ,fl rrt .a u o cu 'i CO o O >» C c .a rt o o > ,«3 o u ni ni cu -= 3 C O o C O CO CU .2 o O rf to Ui CO - ^3 V u, a ■** £ cu r> .o 42 a> CO f-i O 3 y o § s c *+J cu S£ > -g S (U cu r U." en aJ CU ■M tn t* •a rt CU c S-, > CT! CU V- rt O « o a. u J? £ 3 * O « C 3 3 u bo bfl 3 ■ cu ^ o £♦ 5 u o c "5 o a o "O :g .*; co £ rt tf aJ cu W bfl cu^B cu a. B^ &*£ Ph l. CU o * R cu *^ cu a . o 0< cti bo B s s CO B b, cu cu "O _cu « # G M-l rQ B B rt a c > «J •»■< CO co TO > T3 bo C C ro o O* to CO CU r-5 'eg o a a, is 3° *- a .2 oj TO II rt cu O >> «1 bo .5 C TO •a bo TO " TO •«"i 3 2 bo a ^ -o o> c TO O co CQ O 8 cu «« bo O TO TO »-< »-. XI TO ro O TO co CU *s *a > » S* fc S c a co d OT 53 O ft +- >« ^ a JS TO p CO o B. n > C/J TO a, CO (H TO O J3 cu a 3 TO CO -4-1 c TO hn C X3 O TO '-M C ^ O u TO Ui . 1 9 3 *-• S to TO co J. ^X X ft S H H g § o > CO O TO (U e -O a tn CO CU u u 3 i> O Cm O . El I* to ii a I-, O TO » TO TO »i C . «-< U co bo U o n3 CO CU a p TO o • v a S <-M TO >-< to O to O w O *§ bo 3 E?j § < .a J5 g fe c o TO Ji TO /*"*> l-i _1 is pq -g W -TO w ►> cy g O bO TO iS bo 1 8 1 1 Isf s O to OS 8 co s? « § >» CU TO •a CU Cm •a -a bo -a «w o cu CU o . *a -a g t72 cu *d W a i cu Cm d> 120 Reading and Public Speaking. Gentlewoman. — Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise; and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close. Physician. — How came she by that light? Gentlewoman. — Why, it stood by her; she has light by her continually; 'tis her command. Physician. — You see her eyes are open? Gentlewoman. — Ay, but their sense is shut. Physician. — What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands; I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour. Hist! I see the stir of glamour far upon the twilight wold. Hist! I see the vision rising! List! and as I speak, behold! Guttural. On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, hark to that fierce huzza ! "Revenge! remember Limeric! dash down the Sassenagh! Othello. — Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell! Yield up, O love, thy crown, and hearted throne To tyrannous hate! swell, bosom, with thy fraught, For 'tis of aspic tongues ! Iago. — Pray be content. Othello. — O, blood, Iago, blood. — Shakespeare. Pectoral. Macbeth. — Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. (Exit servant.) Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat oppress'd brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw : Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; And such an instrument I was to use. — Mine eyes are made the fools of the other senses, Or else worth all the rest. I see thee still ; And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, Which was not so before. — There's no such thing: It is the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes. — Now o'er the one-half world Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtain'd sleep; now witchcraft celebrates Reading and Public Speaking. 121 Pale Hecate's offering; and wither'd murder, Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost. — Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my whereabouts, And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives : Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. (A bell rings.) Nasai* "The birds can fly, an' why can't I? Must we give in," says he with a grin, "That the bluebird an' phoebe are smarter 'n we be? Jest fold our hands, an' see the swaller, An' blackbird an' catbird beat us holler? Does the little chatterin', sassy wren, No bigger'n my thumb, know more than men? Jest show me that! Ur prove' t the bat Hez got more brains than's in my hat, An' I'll back down, an' not till then!" Trowbridge. Fai^s^tto. I was dozing comfortably in my easy chair, and dreaming of the good times which I hope are coming, when there fell upon my ear a most startling scream. It was the voice of my Maria Ann. "O! Joshua, a mouse, shoo — shoo — , a great, horrid mouse, and she — w, it ran right out of the cupboard — shoo — go away — O, Joshua — shoo — kill it, oh, my — shoo!" — Joshua Jenkins. ASPIRATED. PURE TONE. ASPIRATED. PURB. ASPIRATED. PURB. Transitions, Hush ! hark ! did stealing steps go by ? Came not faint whisners near? No ! — The wild wind hath many a sigh Amid the foliage sere. Hark ! distant voices, that lightly Ripple the silence deep! No; the swans that, circling nightly, Through the silver waters sweep . See I not, there, a white shimmer? Something with palesilken shrine? No; it is the column's glimmer, 'Gainst the gloomy hedge of pine. 122 Reading and Public Speaking. ASPIRATED. Hark! below the gates unbarring! Tramp of men and quick commands ! 'Tis my lord come back from hunting, PURE. And the Duchess claps her hands. LESSON XXXIV. EMPHASIS OF PITCH. A sudden change from the general pitch to a much higher or a lower pitch, thereby arresting the attention and giving signifi- cance to the words thus uttered, is very useful for emphasis. Transition in Pitch. In passing from the expression of one emotion to another there is transition in pitch, and the power to strike instantly and accurately from one pitch to another cannot be overestimated. The slightest change of sentiment has its corresponding change in pitch, and when the voice is properly attuned, the sensibilities sweep over the keys, producing a music that is pleasing to the ear. Examples. "From that chamber, clothed in white, The bride came forth on her wedding night; There, in that silent room below, The dead lay in his shroud of snow; And in the hush that followed the prayer, Was heard the old clock on the stair, — "Forever — never ! Never — forever !" Analyze and read the following, noting the emphasis brought about by the transition of pitch in passing from one emotion to another : The Launching of the Ship. "Build me straight, O worthy Master! Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel, That shall laugh at all disaster, And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!" Day by day the vessel grew, With timbers fashioned strong and true, Stemson and keelson and sternson knee, Till, framed with perfect symmetry, A skeleton ship rose up to view ! And around the bows and along the side The heavy hammers and mallets plied, Till after many a week, at length, Wonderful for form and strength, Reading and Public Speaking. 123 Sublime in its enormous bulk, Loomed aloft the shadowy hulk! And around it columns of smoke upwreathing, Rose from the boiling, bubbling, seething Caldron, that glowed, And overflowed With the black tar, heated for the sheathing. And amid the clamors Of clattering hammers, He who listened heard now and then The song of the Master and his men: "Build me straight, O worthy Master, Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel, That shall laugh at all disaster, And with wave and whirlwind wrestle !" All is finished ! and at length Has come the bridal day Of beauty and of strength. To-day the vessel shall be launched ! With fleecy clouds the sky is blanched, And o'er the bay, Slowly, in all his splendors dight, The great Sun rises to behold the sight. The Ocean old, Centuries old, Strong as youth, and as uncontrolled, Paces restless to and fro, Up and down the sands of gold. His beating heart is not at rest; And far and wide, With ceaseless flow, His beard of snow Heaves with the heaving of his breast. He waits impatient for his bride. There she stands, With her foot upon the sands! Decked with flags and streamers gay, In honor of her marriage day, Her snow-white signals, fluttering, blending, Round her like a veil descending, Ready to be The bride of the gray old Sea. Then the Master, With a gesture of command, Waved his hand: And at the word, Loud and sudden there was heard, All around them and below, The sound of hammers, blow on blow, Knocking away the shores and spurs. 124 Reading and Public Speaking. And see ! she stirs ! She starts — she moves — she seems to feel The thrill of life along her keel, And, spurning with her foot the ground, With one exulting, joyous bound, She leaps into the ocean's arms ! And lo ! from the assembled crowd There rose a shout, prolonged and loud, That to the ocean seemed to say, "Take her, O bridegroom, old and gray; Take her to thy protecting arms, With all her youth and all her charms!" How beautiful she is ! how fair She lies within those arms, that press Her form with many a soft caress Of tenderness and watchful care! Sail forth into the sea, O ship ! Through wind and wave, right onward steer I The moistened eye, the trembling lip, Are not the signs of doubt or fear. Sail forth into the sea of life, Oh, gentle, loving, trusting wife, And safe from all adversity, Upon the bosom of that sea Thy comings and thy goings be ! For gentleness, and love, and trust, Prevail o'er angry waves and gust; And in the wave of noble lives Something immortal still survives ! Thou too, sail on, O ship of State ! Sail on, O Union, Strong and great! Humanity, with all its fears, With all its hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate ! We know what Master laid thy keel, What workman wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge, and what a heat, Were shaped the anchors of thy hope. Fear not each sudden sound and shock; 'Tis of the wave, and not the rock; 'Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale; In spite of rock and tempest roar, In spite of false lights on the shore, Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee; Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, Are all with thee — are all with thee! Henry Wadsivorth Longfellow. Reading and Public Speaking. 125 Transition in Pitch and Movement. Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse rough verse should like the torrent roar. When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, The line too, labors, and the words move slow; Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er the unbending corn and skims along the main. Now clear, pure, hard, bright, and one by one, like to hailstones, Short words fall from his lips fast as the first of a shower, — Now in twofold column, Spondee, Iamb, and Trochee, Unbroke, firm-set, advance, retreat, trampling along, — Now with a sprightlier springiness, bounding in triplicate syllables, Dance the elastic Dactyllics in musical cadences on; Now, their voluminous coil intertangling like huge anacondas, Roll overwhelmingly onward the sesquipedalian words. Lo, dim in the starlight their white tents appear ! Ride softly ! ride slowly ! the onset is near ! More slowly ! more softly ! the sentry may hear ! Now fall on the foe like a tempest of flame ! Strike down the false banners whose triumph were shame! Strike, strike for the true flag, for freedom and fame! TRANSITION IN PITCH. Soft. Slow and tired came the hunters; Stopped in darkness in the court. Loud. "Ho, this way, ye laggard hunters ! To the hall! What sport, what sport! Loud. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory or the grave ! Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry! Soft. Ah! few shall part where many meet! The snow shall be their winding-sheet, And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre. O, how our organ can speak with its many and wonderful voices! Play on the soft lute of love, blow the loud trumpet of war, Sing with the high sesquialter, or, drawing its full diapason, Shake all the air with the grand storm of its pedals and stops. 126 Reading and Public Speaking. Loud Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead ! Moderate. In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility; Loud. But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage. Very Loud. On. on, you noblest English, Whose blood is fetched from fathers of war-proof ! Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders, Have, in these parts, from morn till even fought, And sheathed their swords for lack of argument. Quick and I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Very Loud. Straining upon the start. The game's afoot; Follow your spirits, and, upon this charge, Cry,— HEAVEN for HARRY! ENGLAND! and ST. GEORGE! LESSON XXXV. CLIMAX. Climax denotes progress in the significance, interest or inten- sity of thought or emotion. It is the artistic building up of a dram- atic effect by means of increased force and intensity. Climax of Intensity. One of the most striking defects in oratory is the inability to present climaxes artistically. The law of gradation demands that the progress from the smaller to the greater be gradual and regular. The strongest effects must be reserved for the culmination of the climax. The reader or speaker must bear in mind the end from the beginning, then he will not overdo the less important details, and the voice will begin on a sufficiently low scale to enable the voice of the speaker to rise with the rise of the thought. In one case, the pitch may rise ; in another it may fall. Frequent drills in climax are useful to give flexibility, power, and range to the voice. Examples. "O, it was the most grand, the most sublime, the most terrific sight the world ever beheld." "It is an outrage to bind a Roman citizen; to scourge him is an atrocious crime ; to put him to death is almost parricide ; but to crucify him — what shall I call it?" Reading and Public Speaking. 127 "Force compelled the signature of unwilling royalty to the great Magna Charta; force put life into the Declaration of Inde- pendence and made effective the Emancipation Proclamation; force waved the flag of revolution over Bunker Hill and marked the snows of Valley Forge with blood-stained feet; force held the broken line of Shiloh, climbed the flame-swept hill at Chattanooga, and stormed the clouds on Lookout Heights; force marched with Sherman to the sea, rode with Sheridan in the Valley of the Shen- andoah, and gave Grant victory at Appomattox; force saved the Union, kept the stars in the flag, and made negroes men." "Therefore, it is with confidence that, ordered by the Com- mons of Great Britain, I impeach Warren Hastings of high crimes and misdemeanors. "T impeach him in the name of the Commons of Great Britain in Parliament assembled, whose parliamentary trust he has abused." "I impeach him in the name of the Commons of Great Britain, whose national character he has dishonored. "I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose laws, rights, and liberties he has subverted. "I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose property he has destroyed, whose country he has laid waste and desolate. "I impeach him in the name of human nature itself, which he has cruelly outraged, injured, and oppressed, in both sexes. And I impeach him in the name and by virtue of those eternal laws of justice, which ought equally to pervade every age, condi- tion, rank, and situation in the world." — Edmund Burke. Find five other illustrations. LESSON XXXVI. DELIVERY OF ORATIONS. Essentials in the Delivery of Orations. Directness. The first and most important requisite for the proper delivery of an oration is Directness. Talk to your audience in a dignified conversational manner. Talk to convince. Don't declaim or spout, rant or shout. Be human. The force and dignity of thought naturally calls out the Expulsive orotund. Earnestness. Deep conviction, sympathy, self-abandonment, and a burning desire to dispense the truth that has taken possession of your 128 Reading and Public Speaking. will manifest itself in voice, look, and gesture, imparting earnest- ness, the natural language of sincerity and high purpose. Dignity. The greatness and importance of the occasion of a formal speech like the oration naturally carries with it dignity, and a true conception of the spirit of the selection will engender dignity. Imprkssivbness. The speech should be made impressive by the careful weigh- ing of each thought. Concentration by the speaker upon each phrase or thought unit in the speech, will assist the audience clearly to grasp each idea, and to see each picture presented. The proper grasp of the thought by the speaker will enable him to present the different moods, avoiding drift, and rendering him interesting, clear, and effective. The first three orations following are representative, and are chosen for the purpose of illustrating the essentials indicated above. Note the essential that most notably characterizes each oration ; and make the speech effective by careful thought analysis, by a close consideration of the moods, by a full appreciation of the occasion of the original speech, together with the thoughts that stirred the emotions of the speaker. Commit at least one of the orations, together with one of the paragraph extracts. THE CALL TO ARMS. Patrick Henry. Richmond, Va., March 28, 1775. (Delivered on March 20, 1775, during Virginia's Second Revolutionary Convention in the midst of violent debate. ) Mr. President: — No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the house. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen, if, entertaining as I do, opinions of a character very opposite to theirs', I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without reserve. This is no time for ceremony. The question before the house is one of awful mo- ment to this country. For my own part, I consider it is nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery ; and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and ful- fill the great resposibility which we hold to God and our country. Reading and Public Speaking. 129 Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offence, I should consider myself as guilty of treason toward my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings. Air. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren, till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous strug- gle for liberty ? Are we disposed to be of the number of those, who having eyes, see not ; and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth ; to know the worst, and to provide for it. ■ I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided ; and that is the lamp of experience. I know no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British Ministry of the last ten years, to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themslves and the house? Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourself to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious recep- tion of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have w T e shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled, that force must be called to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjection; the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask, gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us : they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find, which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; 130 Reading and Public Speaking. our supplications have been disregarded ; and we have been spurned with contempt, from the foot of the throne! In vain, after these things, ma}^ we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free — if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable priviliges for which we have been so long contending — if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon, until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained — we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of Hosts is all that is left us ! They tell us, sir, that we are weak ; unable to cope with so for- midable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year ? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means which the God of Nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat, but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable — and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come ! It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, "Peace, Peace/' but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the North will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms ! Our brethren are already in the field ! Why stand we here idle ? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God ! I know not what course others may take ; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death! Reading and Public Speaking. 131 A PLEA FOR CUBA. On the evening of the twelfth of March, 1898, the steam yacht Anita cast anchor in the harbor of Matanzas. Aboard the little vessel were Senator John M. Thurston and his wife, who had gone to make an independent investigation of affairs in Cuba. Day and night Mrs. Thurston toiled in behalf of the helpless widows and orphans of the ill-fated island ; until her strength sank beneath the strain, and the spirit of the noble woman passed away. Her last request was that her husband should not allow her death to delay his efforts in behalf of Cuban liberty . So, just ten days afterward, amid the sympathetic silence of a crowded Senate, Mr. Thurston arose and said : "I am here by command of silent lips, to speak once and for all upon the Cuban situation. I shall endeavor to be honest, conservative, and just. I have no purpose to stir the public passion to any action not neces- sary and imperative to meet the duties of American responsibility, Christian humanity, and national honor. I would shirk the task if I could, but I dare not. I cannot satisfy my conscience except by speaking and speaking now. The pictures in the American newspapers of the starving reconcentradoes are true. They can all be duplicated by the thousands. I never saw, and, please God, I may never again see, so deplorable a sight as the reconcentradoes in the suburbs of Matanzas. I can never forget to my dying day, the hopeless anguish in their despairing eyes. Huddled about their little bark huts, they raised no voice of appeal to us for alms as we went among them. Men, women, and children stand silent, famishing. They have no homes to return to; their fields have grown up to weeds. Their only hope is to remain where they are, to do what they can on an insufficient charity, and then die. Spain is powerless to end the conflict, to rehabilitate the island, or to relieve the distress. The time for action, then, has come. No greater reason for it can exist tomorrow than exists today. Every hour's delay only adds another chapter to the awful story of misery and death. Only one power can intervene — the United States of America. We cannot refuse to accept this responsibility which the God of the Universe has placed upon us as the one great power in the New World. We must act! What shall our action be? Some say the acknowledgement of the belligerency of the revolutionists — the hour and the opportunity for that have passed away. Others say, "Let us, by resolution or official proclamation, recognize the inde- pendence of the Cubans," It is too late even for such recognition to be of great avail. Others say annexation to the United States. God forbid ! I would oppose annexation with my last breath. The people of Cuba are not our people : they cannot assimilate with us. 132 Reading and Public Speaking. Let the world understand that the United States does not propose to annex Cuba, that it is not seeking a foot of Cuban soil nor a dollar of Spanish money. There is only one action possible if any is taken; and that is, — intervention for the independence of the island. Intervention that means the landing of an American army on Cuban soil, the deploying of an American fleet off Havana; intervention which says to Spain: "Leave the island, withdraw your soldiers, leave the Cubans, these brothers of ours, to form and carry on a government for themselves !" Against the intervention of the United States in this holy cause, there is but one voice of dissent, that voice is the voice of the money changers. They fear war, I deprecate war: but I do not read my duty from the ticker; I do not accept my lesson in patriotism from Wall street. Better foreign and domestic com- merce would stimulate every branch of industry. But, in the meantime, the spectre of war would stride through the stock ex- changes and many of the gamblers around the board would find their ill-gotten gains passing to the other side of the table. Let them go; what one man loses at the gaming table his fellow gambler wins. They will not do the fighting ; their blood will not flow ; they will keep on dealing in options in human life. Let the man whose loyalty is to the dollar stand aside, while the man whose loyalty is to the flag comes to the front. Mr. President, there are those who say that the affairs of Cuba are not the affairs of the United States, who insist that we can stand idly by, and see that island devastated and depopulated, its business interests destroyed, its commercial intercourse with us cut off, its people starved, degraded and enslaved. It may be the naked legal right of the United States to stand thus idly by. I have the legal right to sit in my comfortable parlor, with my loved ones gathered about me, and through my plate glass win- dow, see a fiend outraging a helpless woman, and I can legally say this is no affair of mine — it is not happening on my premises ; and I can turn away and, taking up my little ones in my arms and, with the memory of their sainted mother in my heart, look up to the motto on the wall and read, "God bless our home." But, if I do, I am a coward and a cur. And yet I cannot pro- tect or save the woman without the exercise of force. Nor can we intervene and save Cuba without the exercise of force, and force means war; and war means blood. But it will be God's force. When has a battle for humanity and liberty ever been won except by force? What barricade of injustice, wrong and oppression has ever been carried except by force? Force compelled the signature of unwilling royalty to the great Magna Charta; force put life into the Declaration of Inde- pendence and made effective the Emancipation Proclamation ; force beat with naked hands upon the iron gateway of the Bastile and made reprisal in one awful hour for centuries of kingly crime; Reading and Public Speaking. 133 force waved the flag of revolution over Bunker Hill and marked the snows of Valley Forge with blood-stained feet; force held the broken line at Shiloh, climbed the flame-swept hills at Chattanooga, and stormed the clouds on Lookout Heights; force marched with Sherman to the sea, rode with Sheridan in the. Valley of the Shenan- doah, and gave Grant victory at Appomatox; force saved the Union, kept the stars in the flag, and made negroes men. Let the impassioned lips of American patriots once again take up the song: — "In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea; With a beauty in his bosom that transfigures you and me ; As he dies to make me holy let us die to make men free — While God is marching on." Others may hesitate, others may procrastinate, others may plead for further diplomatic negotiations, but for me, I am ready to act now, and for my actions I am ready to answer to my con- science, to my country, and to my God. Address at the Dedication oe Gettysburg Cemetery. Fourscore and seven years ago> our fathers brought forth upon this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedi- cated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We are met to dedi- cate a portion of it as the final resting place of those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But in a larger sense we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather to be here dedicated to the un- finished work they have thus far so nobly carried on. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us, that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to the cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion; that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that the nation shall, under God, have a new birth of freedom, and that the government of the people, by the people, and for the peo- ple, shall not perish from the earth. — Abraham Lincoln. 134 Reading and Public Speaking. The Semi-Centennial Speech of President Woodrow Wilson Delivered to the Assembled Veterans at Gettys- burg, on July 4TH, 19 13. "I need not tell you what the battle of Gettysburg meant. These gallant men in blue and gray sit all about us here. Many of them met here upon this ground in grim and deadly struggle. Upon these famous fields and hillsides their comrades died about them. In their presence it were an impertinence to discourse upon how the battle went, how it ended, what it signified ; but fifty years have gone by since then and I crave the privilege of speaking to you for a few minutes of what these fifty years have meant. "What have they meant? They have meant peace and union and vigor and the maturity and might of a great nation. "How wholesome and healing the peace has been! We have found one another again as brothers and comrades in arms, enemies no longer, generous friends rather, our battles long past, the quarrel forgotten — except that we shall not forget the splendid valor, the manly devotion of the men arrayed against one another, now grasping hands and smiling into each other's eyes. How complete the union has become and how dear to all of us, how benign and majestic as state after state has been added to this, our great family of free men ! How handsome the vigor, the ma- turity, the might of the great nation we love with undivided hearts ; how full of large and confident promise that a life will be wrought that will crown its strength with gracious justice and with a happy welfare that will touch all alike with deep contentment! We are debtors to those fifty crowded years ; they have made us heirs to a mighty heritage. "But do we deem the Nation complete and finished? These venerable men crowding here to this famous field have set us a great example of devotion and utter sacrifice. They were willing to die that the people might live. But their task is done. Their day is turned into evening. They look to us to perfect what they established. "Have affairs paused? Does the Nation stand still? Is what the fifty years have wrought since those days of battle finished, rounded out, and completed? Here is a great people, great with every force that has ever beaten in the life blood of mankind. And it is secure. There is no one within its borders, there is no power among the nations of the earth to make it afraid. But has it yet squared itself with its great standards set up at its birth, when it made that first noble, naive appeal to the moral judgment of man- kind to take notice that a government had now at last been estab- lished which was to serve men, not masters ? It is secure in every- thing except the satisfaction that its life is right, adjusted to the uttermost to the standards of righteousness and humanity. The Reading and Public Speaking. 135 days of sacrifice and cleansing are not closed. We have harder things to do than were done in the heroic days of war, because harder to see clearly, requiring more vision, more calm balance of judgment, a more candid searching of the very springs of right. "Look around you upon the field of Gettysburg. Picture the array, the fierce heats and agony of battle, column hurled against column, battery bellowing to battery. Valor? Yes! Greater no man shall see in war; and self-sacrifice and loss to the uttermost; the high recklessness of exalted devotion which does not count the cost. We are made by these tragic, epic things to know what it costs to make a nation — the blood and sacrifice of multitudes of unknown men lifted to a great stature in the view of all generations by knowing no limit to their manly willingness to serve. In armies thus marshalled from the ranks of free men you will see, as it were, a nation embattled, the leaders and led, and may know, if you will, how little except in form its action differs in days of peace from its action in days of war. ' 'May we break camp now and be at ease? Are the forces that fight for the Nation dispersed, disbanded, gone to their homes forgetful of the common cause? Are our forces disorganized, with- out constituted leaders, and the might of men consciously united because we contend, not with armies, but with principalities and powers and wickedness in high places ? Are we content to lie still ? Does our union mean sympathy, our peace contentment, our vigor right action, our maturity self comprehension and a clear confid- ence in choosing what we shall do ? War fitted us for action, and action never ceases. "I have been chosen the leader of the Nation; 1 cannot justify the choice by any qualities of my own, but so it has come about, and here I stand. Whom do I command? The ghostly hosts who fought upon these battlefields long ago and are gone? These gal- lant gentlemen stricken in years whose fighting days are over, their glory won ? What are the orders for them, and who rallies them ? I have in my mind another host, whom these set free of civil strife in order that they might work out in days of peace and settled order the life of a great nation. That host is the people them- selves, the great and the small, without class or difference of kind or race or origin; and undivided in interest, if we have but the vision to guide and direct them, and order their lives aright in what we do. "How shall we hold such thoughts in our hearts and not be moved ? I would not have you live even today wholly in the past, but would wish to stand with you in the light that streams upon us now out of that great day gone by. Here is the Nation God has builded by our hands. What shall we do with it? Who stands ready to act again and always in the spirit of this day of reunion and hope and patriotic fervor? The day of our country's life has but broadened into morning. Do not put uniforms by. Put the harness of the present on. Lift your eyes to the great tracts of 136 Reading and Public Speaking. life yet to be conquered in the interest of righteous peace, of that prosperity which lies in a people's hearts and outlasts all wars and errors of men. Come, let us be comrades and soldiers yet to serve our fellow men in quiet counsel, where the blare of trumpets is neither heard nor heeded, and where the things are done which make blessed the nations of the world in peace and righteousness and love." From Oration on the Centennial oe the Birth oe O' Conn ell. I think I do not exaggerate when I say that never since God made Demosthenes has He made a man better fitted for a great work than O'Connell. You may say that I am partial to my hero; but John Randolph of Roanoke, who hated an Irishman almost as much as he did a Yankee, when he got to London and heard O'Connell, the old slaveholder threw up his hands and exclaimed, "This is the man, those are the lips, the most eloquent that speak English in my day!" And I think he was right. Webster could address a bench of judges ; Everett could charm a college; Choate could delude a jury; Clay could magnetize a senate, and Tom Corwin could hold the mob in his right hand ; but no one of these could do more than this one thing. The wonder about O'Connell was that he could out-talk Corwin, he could charm a college better than Everett, and leave Henry Clay himself far behind in magnetizing a senate. It has been my privilege to hear all the great orators of America who have become singularly famed about the world's cir- cumference. I know what was the majesty of Webster; I know what it was to melt under the magnetism of Henry Clay; I have seen eloquence in the iron logic of Calhoun; but all three of these men never surpassed, and no one of them ever equaled the great Irishman. I have hitherto been speaking of his ability and suc- cess, I will now consider his character. To show you that he never took a leaf from our American gospel of compromise, that he never filed his tongue to silence on one truth fancying so to help another, let me compare him to Kos- suth, whose only merits were his eloquence and his patriotism. When Kossuth was in Faneuil Hall he exclaimed, "Here is a flag without a stain, a nation without a crime!" We abolitionists ap- pealed to him, "O, eloquent son of the Magyar, come to break chains, have you no word, no pulse-beat for four millions of negroes bending under a yoke ten times heavier than that of Hungary?" He exclaimed, "I would forget anybody, I would praise anything, to help Hungary!" O'Connell never said anything like that. Reading and Public Speaking. 137 When I was in Naples I asked Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton, "Is Danniel O'Connell an honest man?" "As honest a man as ever breathed," said he, and then he told me the following story: "When, in 1830, O'Connell first entered Parliament, the anti- slavery cause was so weak that it had only Lushington and myself to speak for it, and we agreed that when he spoke I should cheer him up, and when I spoke he should cheer me, and these were the only cheers we ever got. O'Connell came with one Irish member to support him. A large party of members (I think Buxton said twenty-seven) whom we called the West India interest, the Bristol party, the slave party, went to him saying, 'O'Connell, at last you are in the house with one helper — if you will never go down to Freemason's Hall with Buxton and Brougham, here are twenty- seven votes for you on every Irish question. If you work with those abolitionists, count us always against you." It was a terrible temptation. How many a so-called statesman would have yielded! O'Connell said, 'Gentlemen, God knows I speak for the saddest people that the sun sees; but may my right hand forget its cunning and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if to help Ireland — even Ireland — I forget the negro one single hour." "From that day," said Buxton, "Lushington and I never went into the lobby that O'Connell did not follow us." "And then, besides his irreproachable character, he had what is half the power of a popular orator, he had a majestic presence. In youth he had the brow of a Jupiter, and the stature of Apollo. A little O'Connell would have been no O'Connell at all. Sydney Smith says of Lord Russel's five feet, when he went down to York- shire after the Reform Bill had passed, the stalwart hunters of Yorkshire exclaimed, "What, that little shrimp, he carry the Re- form Bill!" "No, no," said Smith, "he was a large man, but the labors of the bill shrunk him." You remember the story that Russell Lowell tells of Webster when we in Massachusetts were about to break up the Whig party. Webster came borne to Faneuil Hall to protest, and four thousand Whigs came out to* meet him. He lifted up his majestic presence before that sea of human faces, his brow charged with thunder, and said, "Gentlemen, I am a Whig; a Massachusetts Whig; a Revolutionary Whig; a Constitu- tional Whig; a Faneuil Hall Whig; and if you break up the Whig party where am / to go?" "And/ says Lowell, "we all held our breath, thinking where he could go." "But," says Lowell, "if he had been five-feet-three, we would have said, 'Confound you, who do you suppose cares where you go?' Well, O'Connell had all that and then he had what Webster never had, and what Clay had, the magnetism and grace that melt a million souls into his. When I saw him he was sixty-five, lithe as a boy. His every attitude was beauty, his every guesture grace. Why, Macready or Booth never equaled him. 138 Reading and Public Speaking. It would have been a pleasure even to look at him if he had not spoken at all, and all you thought of was a grey-hound. And then he had, what so few American speakers have, a voice that sounded the gamut. I heard him in Exter Hall say, "Ameri- cans, I send my voice careering like a thunderstorm across the Atlantic, to tell South Carolina that God's thunderbolts are hot, and to remind the negro that the dawn of his redemption is draw- ing near;" and I seemed to hear his voice reverberating and re- echoing back to London from the Rocky Mountains. And then, with the slightest possible flavor of an Irish brogue, he would tell a story that would make all Exeter Hall laugh, and the next moment there were tears in his voice, like an old song, and five thousand men would be in tears. And all the while no effort — he seemed only breathing. "All effortless as woodland nooks Send violets up and paint them blue. !" — Wendell Phillips. You come to us and tell us that the great cities are in favor of the gold standard; we reply that the great cities rest upon our broad and fertile prairies. Burn down your cities and leave our farms, and your cities will spring up again by magic ; but destroy our farms, and the grass will grow in the streets of every city in the country. It is the issue of 1776 over again. Our ancestors, when but three millions in number, had the courage to declare their political independence of every other nation ; shall we, their descendants, when we have grown to seventy millions, de- clare that we are less independent than our forefathers? No, my friends, that will never be the verdict of our people. Therefore, we care not upon what lines the battle is fought. If they say bimetallism is good, but that we cannot have it until other nations help us, we reply that, instead of having a gold standard because England has, we will restore bimetallism, and then let England have bimetallism because the United States has it. If they dare to come out in the open field and defend the gold stand- ard as a good thing, we will fight them to the uttermost. Having behind us the producing masses of this nation and the world, sup- ported by the commercial interests, the laboring interests, and the toilers everywhere, we will answer their demand for a gold stan- dard by saying to them : You shall not press down upon the brow of labor this crown of thorns; you shall not crucify mankind on a cross of gold. — W. J. Bryan. Reading and Public Speaking. 139 Patriotism. THUS, gentlemen, we see that a man's country is not a cer- tain area of land, — of mountains, rivers, and woods, — but it is principle; and patriotism is loyalty to that principle. In poetic minds and in popular enthusiasm this feeling becomes closely associated with the soil and symbols of the country. But the secret sanctification of the soil and the symbol is the idea which they represent, and this idea the patriot worships through the name and the symbol, as a lover kisses with rapture the glove of his mis- tress and wears a lock of hair upon his heart. So, with passionate heroism, of which tradition is never weary of telling, Arnold Von Winkelried gathers into his bosom the sheaf of foreign spears, that his death may give life to his country. So Nathan Hale, disdaining no service that his country demands, perishes untimely, with no other friend than God and the satisfied sense of duty. So George Washington, at once comprehending the scope of destiny to which his country was devoted, with one hand puts aside the crown, and with the other sets his slaves free. So, through all history from the beginning, a noble array of martyrs has fought fiercely and fallen bravely for that unseen mistress, their country. So, through all history to the end, as long as men believe in God, that army must still march and fight and fall — > recruited only from the flower of mankind — strong only in their confidence in their cause. — G. W. Curtis. Grattan's Repi^y to Mr. C'orry. Has the gentleman done? Has he completely done? He was unparliamentary from the beginning to the end of his speech. There was scarce a word he uttered that was not a violation of the privileges of the House. But I did not call him to order, — Why? Because the limited talents of some men render it impossible for them to be severe without being unparliamentary. But before I sit down, I shall show him how to be severe and parliamentary at the same time. On any other occasion, I should think myself justifiable in treating with silent contempt anything which might fall from that honorable member; but there are times when the insignificance of the accuser is lost in the magnitude of the accusation. I know the difficulty the honorable gentleman labored under when he at- tacked me, conscious that, on a comparative view of our characters, public and private, there is nothing he could say which would injure me. The public would not believe the charge. I despise the falsehood. If such a charge were made by an honest man, I would answer it in the manner I shall do before I sit down. But I shall first reply to it when not made by an honest man. The right honorable gentleman has called me "an unim- peached traitor," I ask him why not "traitor," unqualified by any 140 Reading and Public Speaking. epithet ? I will tell him : It is because he durst not. It was the act of a coward, who raises his arm to strike, but has not the courage to give the blow. I will not call him villain, because it would be unparliamentary, and he is a privy counselor. I will not call him a fool, because he happens to be chancellor of the exchequer. But, I say, he is one who has abused the privilege of Parliament and the freedom of debate, by uttering language, which, if spoken out of the House, I should answer with a blow. I care not how high his situation, how low his character, how contemptible his speech; whether a privy counselor or a parasite, my answer would be a blow. He has charged me with being connected with the rebels. The charge is utterly, totally, and meanly false. Does the honorable gentleman rely on the report of the House of Lords for the founda- tion of his assertion? If he does, I can prove to the committee that there was a physical impossibility of that report being true. But I scorn to answer any man for my conduct, whether he be a political coxcomb, or whether he brought himself into power by any false glare of courage or not. I have returned, — not as the right honorable member has said, to raise another storm, — I have returned to discharge an honorable debt of gratitude to my country, that conferred a great reward for past services, which, I am proud to say, was not greater than my desert. I have returned to protect that Constitution of which I was the parent and founder, from the assassination of such men as the right honorable gentleman and his unworthy associates. They are corrupt, they are seditious, and they, at this very moment, are in a conspiracy against their country. I have returned to refute a libel, as false as it is malicious, given to the public under the appellation of a report of the committee of the Lords. Here I stand, ready for impeachment or trial. I dare accusation. I defy the honorable gentlemen; I defy the government; I defy their whole phalanx; let them come forth. I tell the ministers, I will neither give quarter nor take it, I am here to lay the shattered remains of my constitution on the floor of this House, in defence of the liberties of my country. — Henry GraHan. There is not through the world, a friend of liberty who has not dropped his head when he heard that Lafayette is no more. Poland, Italy, Greece, Spain, Ireland, the South American repub- lics — every country where man is struggling to recover his birth- right — have lost a benefactor, a patron, in Lafayette. And what was it, fellow citizens, which gave to our Lafayette his spotless fame? The love of liberty. What has consecrated his memory in the hearts of good men? The love of liberty. What nerved his youthful arm with strength and inspiration, in the morning of his days, with sagacity and counsel? The living love of liberty. To what did he sacrifice power and rank and country and freedom it- self? To the love of liberty protected by law. Thus, the great Reading and Public Speaking. 141 principle of our Revolutionary fathers, and of our Pilgrim sires, was the rule of his life — the love of liberty protected by law. You have now assembled within these celebrated walls to perform the last duties of respect and love, on the birthday of your benefactor. The spirit of the departed is in high communion with the spirit of the place — the temple worthy of the new name which we now behold inscribed on its walls. Listen, Americans, to the lessons which seems borne to us on the very air we breathe, while we perform these dutiful rites! Ye winds, that wafted the Pil- grims to the land of promise, fan, in their children's hearts, the love of freedom! Blood, which our father's shed, cry from the ground! Echoing arches of this renowned hall whisper back the voices of other days ! Glorious Washington, break the long silence of that votive canvas! Speak, speak, marble lips; teach us the LOVE OF liberty PROTECTED by law. — Bdward Everett. Woe to the crown of pride of the drunkards of Ephraim, and to the fading flower of his glorious beauty, which is on the head of the fat valley of them that are overcome with wine! Behold, the Lord hath a mighty and strong one; as a tempest of hail, a destroying storm, as a tempest of mighty waters overflowing, shall he cast down to the earth with the hand. The crown of pride of the drunkards of Ephraim shall be trodden under foot; and the fading flower of his glorious beauty, which is in the head of the fair valley, shall be the first ripe fig before the summer; which when he that looketh upon it seeth, while it is yet in his hand he eateth it up. In that day shall the Lord of hosts be for a crown of glory, and for a diadem of beauty, unto the residue of his people: and for a spirit of judgment to him that sitteth in judgment, and for strength to* them that turn back the battle at the gate. But these also have erred through wine, and through strong drink have gone astray; the priest and the prophet have erred through strong drink, they are swallowed up of wine, they are gone astray through strong drink ; they err in vision, they stumble in judg- ment. — Whom will he teach knowledge? Them that are weaned from the milk, and drawn from the breasts ? For it is precept upon precept, precept upon precept, line upon line, line upon line ; here a little and there a little ! — Nay, but by men of strange lips and with another tongue will he speak to his people; to whom he said, this is the rest, give ye rest to him that is weary ; and this is the refresh- ing they would not hear. Wherefore hear the word of the LORD, ye scornful men, that rule this people which is in Jerusalem : Be- cause ye have said, "We have made a covenant with death, and with hell, are we at agreement ;" when the overflowing scourge should pass through, it shall not come unto us ; for we have made lies our refuge, and under falsehood have we hid ourselves : therefore thus 142 Reading and Public Speaking. saith the LORD GOD, Behold I lay in Zioji for a foundation a stone, a tried stone, a precious corner stone of sure foundation: he that believeth shall not make haste. And I will make judgment the line, and righteousness the plummet: and the hail shall sweep away the refuge of lies, and the water shall overflow the hiding place. And your covenant with death shall be disannulled, and your agreement with hell shall not stand; when the overflowing scourge shall pass through, then ye shall be trodden down by it. — Bible. Listen to the voice of justice and of reason; it cries to us that human judgments are never certain enough to warrant society in giving death to a man convicted by other men liable to error. Had you imagined the most perfect judicial system; had you found the most upright and enlightened judges — there will always remain some room for error or prejudice. Why interdict to yourselves the means of reparation? Why condemn yourself to powerless- ness to help oppressed innocence? What good can come of the sterile regrets, these illusory reparations you grant to a vain shade, to insensible ashes? They are the sad testimonials of the barbar- ous temerity of your penal laws. To rob the man of the possi- bility of expiating his crime by his repentance or by acts of virtue; to close to him without mercy every return to a proper life, and his own esteem; to hasten his descent, as it were, into the grave still covered with the recent blotch of his crime — is in my eyes the most horrible refinement of cruelty. — Robespierre. Sir, in the most express terms I deny the competency of par- liament to do this act. I warn you, do not dare to lay your hand on the constitution. I tell you that if, circumstanced as you are, you passs this act, it will be a nullity and no man in Ireland will be bound to obey it. I make the assertion deliberately. I repeat it, and call on any man who hears me to take down my words. You have not been elected for this purpose. You are appointed to make laws, not legislatures. I wish for nothing but to breathe in this our island, in com- mon with my fellow subjects, the air of liberty. I have no ambi- tion, unless it be to break your chains and contemplate your glory. I never will be satisfied so long as the meanest cottager in Ireland has a link of the British chain clanking to his rags. He may be naked, he shall not be in irons. And I do see the time at hand; the spirit has gone forth; the Declaration of Right is planted; and though great men should fall off, yet the cause shall live; and though he who utters this should die, yet the immortal fire shall outlast the humble organ who conveys it, and the breath of liberty, like the word of the holy man, will not die with the prophet, but survive him. Reading and Public Speaking. 143 Advance then, ye future generations ! We would hail you, as you rise in your long succession, to fill the places which we now fill, and to taste the blessings of existence where we are passing, and shall soon have passed, our own human duration. We bid you welcome to this pleasant land of our fathers. We bid you welcome to the healthful skies and the verdant fields of New England. We greet your accession to the great inheritance which we have enjoyed. We welcome you to the blessing of good government and religious liberty. We welcome you to the treasures of science and the delights of learning. We welcome you to the transcendant sweets of domestic life, to the happiness of kindred, and parents, and children. We welcome you to the immeasurable blessings of rational existence, the immortal hope of Christianity, and the light of everlasting truth. Sir, I know the uncertainty of human affairs, but I see, I see clearly through this day's business. You and I, indeed, may rue it. We may not live to the time when this declaration shall be made good. We may die ; die colonists ; die slaves ; die, it may be, ignominiously, and on the scaffold. Be it so*. Be it so. If it be the pleasure of Heaven that my country shall require the poor offering of my life, the victim shall be ready at the appointed hour of sacrifice, come when that hour may. But while I do live, let me have a country, or at least the hope of a country, and that a free country. Sir, before God, I believe the hour is come. My judgment ap- proves this measure, and my whole heart is in it. All that I have, and all that I hope in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon it; and I leave off as I began, that live or die, survive or perish, I am for the declaration. It is my living sentiment, and by the blessing of God it shall be my dying sentiment — Independence now, and INDEPENDENCE FOREVER.— Webster. Romans, countrymen and lovers ! Hear me for my cause ; and be silent that you may hear : believe me for mine honor ; and have respect to mine honor, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom ; and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to* him I say that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his. If, then, that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer : "Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living, and die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live all freemen? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honor him ; but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There are tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honor for his valor; and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a bondman? If 144 Reading and Public Speaking. any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country ? If any, speak ; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply. — Shakespeare. Mr. President : I shall enter on no ecomium upon Massachu- setts; she needs none. There she is. Behold her and judge for yourselves. There is her history; the world knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill; and there they will remain forever. The bones of her sons, fallen in the great struggle for Independence, now lie mingled with the soil of every State, from New England to Georgia; and here they will lie forever. And, sir, where American Liberty raised its first voice, and where its youth was nurtured and sustained, there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood, and full of its original spirit. If discord and disunion shall wound it; if party strife and blind ambi- tion shall hawk at and tear it; if folly and madness, if uneasiness under salutary and necessary restraint, shall succeed in separating it from that Union by which alone its existence is made sure, — it will stand, in the end, by the side of that cradle in which its in- fancy was rocked; it will stretch forth its arm, with whatever of vigor it may still retain, over the friends who gather round it, and it will fall at last, if fall it must, amid the proudest monuments of its own glory, and on the very spot of its origin. — Webster. When my eyes turn to behold for the last time the sun in heaven, may they not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious union; on states dissevered, discor- dant, belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood. Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather behold the glorious ensign of the Republic, now known and honored throughout the earth, still full high advanced ; its arms and trophies streaming in all their original lustre; not a stripe erased or polluted; not a single star obscured; bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as "What is all this worth ?" nor those other words of delusion and folly, of "Liberty first, and Union afterwards," but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, and blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment dear to every American heart— LIBERTY AND UNION— now and forever— one and in- separable. — Webster. PART FOUR. Interpretation of Literature Reading and Public Speaking. 147 LESSON XXXVII. INTERPRETATION OF LITERATURE. Thought and Emotion in Expression. To express our thoughts we employ emphasis in pitch, in pause, and other elements of expression. When the voice has proper flexibility and compass, when the organs of speech are in good running order, then, as far as the mechanical part is con- cerned, it is ready to express any thought or emotion effectively. Now, spoken language must express feelings as well as thought, and it is in the proper rendition of feeling that the speaker is like- ly to fail. Where one fails to express thought, a thousand fail to express feeling effectively. It is feeling that gives life, energy, variety, and interest. The feelings must be educated, for, when joy, delight, or other emotions are really felt, the voice, in ex- pressing the emotion, naturally takes on the tone color appropriate to such emotions. Here lies the greatest difficulty to the speaker. The emotions must be developed in order that the pathos and the joy of another may be truly felt. The speaker, for the time being, must be vicarious. To be sure, the mechanics of speech are neces- sary, in order that the channel through which the thoughts and emotions issue may not be obstructed, but back of it all there must be thought and emotion to express. The true artist reaches the goal, not by tricks of the voice, but by the road of the refinement and cultivation of the sensibilities. Anything that refines and puri- fies the thought and emotions will assist the artist in proper expres- sion. In natural conversation everything is spontaneous. There are operating objective and subjective causes that free the mind from introspection and self-consciousness. In reading from the printed page mere words obtrude themselves, and, unless the mind is alert instantly to grasp the thought and emotion of the author, there is a mere repetition of the words only, and a consequent absence of spontaneity and interpretation. In speaking, the audience is likely to produce self-consciousness and perhaps introspection in the mind of the speaker, which can be overcome only by making its mind the objective point of his every effort, constantly striving to create in the minds of his audience vital, glowing, and living pictures. The audience must be kept in mind constantly. If the auditorium is large, then the voice must be directed to the furthest corner. Enunciation must be distinct, and volume must be increased. The speaker should forget self absolutely, and when sure that his audi- ence is relaxed and not on a tension, straining to hear his words, should yield himself entirely to the thought and imagination of his discourse. 148 Reading and Public Speaking. In the reading of literature and in speaking, objects should be so pictured, and feeling should be so engendered that both thought and feeling may be expressed as effectively and sponta- neously as in spontaneous conversation. The foregoing and the succeeding lessons are directed towards the attainment of this ideal. LESSON XXXVIII. VARIOUS STATES OF FEELING OR EMOTION. Below are given various states of feelings or emotions, to- gether with sentences illustrative of a few of these emotions. Find other passages in literature to illustrate each one of these feelings, or states of mind. The various states of feeling expressed in literature are indicated. Command. Concession. Condemnation. Concern. Confi- dence. Confusion. Consolation. Contempt. Conviction. Courage. Cowardliness. Cruelty. Cursing. Decision. Defiance. Defer- ence. Delight. Denial. Derision. Despair. Deprecation. De- termination. Dignity. Dissatisfaction. Discontent. Discourag- ing. Dispraising. Disgust. Disappointment. Dismay. En- couragement. Entreaty. Envy. Excuse. Execration. Expecta- tion. Explanation. Exultation. Fatigue. Farewell. Feebleness. Flattery. Foreknowledge. Frankness. Gasping. Gayety. Gen- erosity. Geniality. Grief. Gratitude. Horror. Impatience. Impertinence. Incredulity. Indignation. Indifference. Interro- gation. Insolence. Irreverence. Irresponsibility. Irony. Joy. Love. Malediction. Mediation. Melancholy. Mirth. Mistrust. Modesty. Moaning. Mock-deference. Mockery. Obstinacy. Omination. Pain. Permission. Perplexity. Persuasion. Pity. Politeness. Praise. Prejudice. Pride. Promising. Protest. Rage. Rebuff. Recklessness. Polite Refusal. Refusal. Regret. Rejec- tion. Remorse. Renunciation. Repose. Reproach; Resent- ment. Resignation. Respect. Responsibility. Reproof. Request. Retaliation. Retort. Ridicule. Sadness. Sarcasm. Satisfac- tion. Scorn. Secrecy. Self -Denunciation. Shivering and Shud- ering. Sloth. Solemnity. Solicitude. Startling. Struggling. Stubbornness. Sublimity. Suspicion. Sympathy. Terror. Thanks. Threat. Tranquility. Triumph. Tyranny. Uproar. Urging. Vindication. Warning. Welcome. Whispering. Woe. Wonder. 1. O, look at that beautiful rose-covered trellis! I never saw anything so beautiful in all my life. 2. Is it you, Jack ? Well, where on earth did you come from ? You must have dropped down from the sky ! Reading and Public Speaking. 149 3. What did you say? John and Mary are married! Well, did you ever! 4. You cur! Strike that little boy again and you'll get the worst thrashing that you ever had. 5. Stop that ! Get back, you cowards ! Back, I say ! 6. Do you think that I would lower myself so much as to shake hands with such a low miserable cur? 7. O, I did want to go to that picnic so much ; and now I'll have to stay cooped up in this lonesome house all day ! 8. O that big black snake! Ugh! Mercy! It makes me shudder every time I think of it. 9. Look out for those horses! Look out! 10. Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! We won! We won! They didn't come any where near our goal ! 11. What do you think? We're going to the Coast tomorrow! I could just dance for joy ! 12. I've tried and tried, but everything and everybody seems against me. I feel downright miserable. 13. Oh, my head, my head, my head. The pain, the pain, the pain. 14. Cry away, you great big baby — boo-hoo, boo-hoo, boo- hoo. 15. Oh, look at that poor cripple. See, how worn he looks. 16. Oh, shame, shame! After he has done so much for you to talk of him like that. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. 17. "The gentleman is so very considerate, very; so amiable, so gentle. His remarks are so profound, so all-embracing, that I think we shall soon find him editing a baby's primer." 18. Ahead of us as far as the eye could perceive, up, up, up, mountain beyond mountain, peak after peak. It was wonderful; it was sublime ; I could not speak. 19. Our boat is sinking. Help! Help! 20. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank. Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. ^Shakespeare. 150 Reading and Public Speaking. LESSON XXXIX PICTURING. Appeals Made To The Senses By Different Objects. The Image Making Process. Daily we are brought into contact and connection with ex- ternal objects through the medium of our various senses. Now the sense of sight receives an appeal, now the sense of taste, now the sense of hearing, now the sense of smell, now the sense of touch, and again the muscular sense. When we trace sensations of color, odor, form, and taste to a given object, say, an apple, we have knowledge of the apple. When we trace the sensation of light to its cause, we have knowl- edge of the candle or the lamp. This process of knowing things is perception, while the result obtained by the mind is a percept. Pictures or impressions of a percept retained after it has itself de- parted are images. The image of the apple abides in memory, that faculty by which we are able to imagine or reconstruct a copy of that which was formerly perceived. Conception must precede execu- tion. Before the reader or speaker attempts to portray a picture, he, himself, should comprehend the picture in every detail. His percepts must be clear, for the audience will share with the speaker what the speaker sees in his own imagination. In reading or speaking, the mind should have a vital grasp upon the things that the words symbolize. Let the subject be mountains or the ocean; then the mountains should loom up or billows roll before the eyes. Exercise. Look out of the window for five minutes, and then describe vividly to the class the objects that came under your observation. The Power Of Words, And The Appeals Made To The Senses By Different Objects. " Nothing is more natural than to imitate, by the sound of the voice, the quality of the sound or noise which any external object makes, and to form its name accordingly. A certain bird is termed the cuckoo, from the sound which it emits. When one sort of wind is said to whistle, another to roar; when a serpent is said to hiss; a fly to- buzz; and falling timber to crash; when a stream is said to flow and hail to rattle, — the analogy between the word and the thing signified is plainly discernible." In poetic and imaginative writings, there are whole passages in which the melody suggests the meaning. Reading and Public Speaking. 151 "Words are instruments of music; an ignorant man uses them for jargon; but when a master touches them they have unex- pected life and soul. Some words sound out like drums; some breathe memories sweet as flutes; some call like a clarionet; some shout a charge like trumpets; some are sweet as children's talk; others rich as a mother's answering back" Exercises for Practice. 1. Let the mind dwell upon the following extracts until the concepts are perfectly clear. 2. In each extract note through which sense the concept is perceived. 3. Practice in making the sound an echo of the sense. "The crows flapped over by twos and threes, In the pool drowsed the cattle up to their knees. There was never a leaf on bush or tree, The bare boughs rattled shudderingly ; The river was dumb and could not speak, For the weaver winter its shroud had spun; A single crow on the tree top bleak From his shining feathers shed off the cold sun." Lowell. And still she slept an azure-lidded sleep, In blanched linen, smooth, and lavender'd, While he from forth the closet brought a heap Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd, With jellies smoother than the creamy curd, And lucent syrups, tinct with cinnamon, Manna and dates, in argosy transferred From Fez, and spiced dainties every one, From silken Samarcand to cedar'd Lebanon. Keats. "And ever and anon with host to host Shocks, and the splintering spear, the hard mail hewn, Shield breakings, and the clash of brands, the crash Of battle-axes on shattered helms, and shrieks After the Christ, of those who, falling down, Looked up for heaven, and only saw the mist; And shouts of the heathen and the traitor knights, Oaths, insult, filth, and monstrous blasphemies, Sweat, writhings, anguish, labouring of the lungs In that close mist, and crying for the light, Moans of the dying, and voices of the dead. The double, double, double beat Of the thundering drum Cries, Hark! the foes come! 152 Reading and Public Speaking. With many a weary step and many a groan Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone : The huge round stone, resulting with a bound, Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground. With sturdy steps came stalking on his sight A hideous giant, horrible and high. When the tide rushes from her rumbling caves, The rough rock roars; tumultous boil the waves. As raging seas are wont to roar, When wintry storm his wrathful wreck does threat, The rolling billows beat the ragged shore. On a sudden open fly The infernal gates, and on their hinges grate Harsh thunder. Heaven opened wide Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound, On golden hinges turning. Loud sounds the axe, redoubling strokes on strokes ; On all sides round the forest hurls her oaks Headlong. Deep echoing groan the thickets hewn, Then rustling, crackling, crashing, thunder down. Down the rough slope the ponderous wagon rings; Through rustling corn the hare astonished springs; Slow tolls the village clock the drowsy hour; The partridge bursts away on whirring wings. For a charm of powerful trouble Like a hell-broth boil and bubble; Double, double, toil and trouble, Fire burn and caldron bubble. BUGLE SONG. The splendor falls on castle walls, And snowy summits old in story; The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow ! set the wild echoes flying ; Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, — dying, dying, dying! O hark! O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going ! O sweet and far, from cliff and scar, The horns of Elfland faintly blowing ! Blow! let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, — dying, dying, dying! O love, they die in yon rich sky; They faint on hill, or field, or river : Our echoes roll from soul to soul, i\nd grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow ! set the wild echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer, — dying, dying, dying! Tennyson. Reading and Public Speaking. 153 "Next this marbled seat, Smeared with gums of glutinous heat, I touch with chaste palms moist and cold." Milton. 3. Read the following extracts, carefully impressing each picture vividly upon the mind, and then tell to your classmates the pictures that you saw. "Who but the locksmith could have made such music? A gleam of sun, shining through the unsashed window, and checker- ing the dark workshop with a broad patch of light, fell full upon him, as though attracted by his sunny heart. There he stood, work- ing at his anvil ; his face all radiant with exercise and gladness, his sleeves turned up, his wig pushed off his shining forehead — the easiest, freest, happiest man in all the world. Beside him sat a sleek cat, purring and winking in the light, and falling every now and then into an idle doze, as from excess of comfort. Toby looked on from a tall bench hard by; one beaming smile, from his nut- brown face down to the slack baked buckles in his shoes. The very locks that hung around had something jovial in their rust, and seemed, like gouty gentlemen of hearty natures, disposed to joke on their infirmities. — Dickens. I had occasion, a few weeks since, to take the early train from Providence to Boston; and for this purpose rose at two o'clock in the morning. Everything around was wrapt in dark- ness and hushed in silence, broken only by what seemed at that hour the unearthly clank and rush of the train. It was a mild, serene, midsummer's night — the sky was without a cloud' — the winds were whist. The moon, then in the last quarter, had just risen, and the stars shone with a spectral lustre, but little affected by her presence. Jupiter, two hours high, was the herald of the day; the pleiades, just above the horizon, shed their sweet influ- ence in the east. * * Such was the glorious spectacle as I entered the train. As we proceeded, the timid approach of twi- light became more perceptible ; the intense blue of the sky began to soften; the smaller stars, like little children, went first to. rest; the sister beams of the pleiades soon melted together; but the bright constellations of the west and north remained unchanged. Stead- ily the wondrous transfiguration went on. Hands of angels, hid- den from mortal eyes, shifted the scenery of the heavens; the glories of night dissolved into the glories of dawn. 4. Recall, from your experience, a storm, a landscape, a fire, or the sky at night, and describe to the class. 154 Reading and Public Speaking. LESSON XL. SPONTANEITY. Spontaneity implies accuracy, flexibility, and facility in the use of the voice. At this point in our lessons the vehicles of ex- pression should be so trained as to take care of themselves with- out conscious effort. Spontaneity further implies freedom from restraint and external force, voice and gesture being freely re- sponsive to the thought and feeling to be expressed. If gaiety is the dominant note of a selection, then there should be an entire abandonment of thought and feeling to the spirit of gaiety. Catch the care-free, joyous, unrestrained feeling of the brook, as you read the following selection from Tennyson: SONG OF THE BROOK. I come from haunts of coot and hern; I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges, Till last by Phillip's farm I flow To join the brimming river; For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever. I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles; I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow. I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river; For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever. I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling. And here and there a foamy flake Upon me as I travel With many a silvery waterbreak Above the golden gravel. Reading and Public Speaking. 155 And draw them all along, and flow To join the brimming river; For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever. I steal by lawns and grassy plots; I slide by hazel covers; I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows; I make the netted sunbeams dance Against my sandy shallows. I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses; I linger by my shingly bars; I loiter round my cresses; And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river; For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever. — Tennyson. "Yo-ho, my boys," said Fezziwig: "no more work tonight, Christmas Eve, Dick! Christmas, Ebenezer! Let's have the shut- ters up before a man can say Jack Robinson! Clear away, my lads, and let's have lots of room here!" Clear away ! There was nothing they wouldn't have done, or couldn't have done, with old Fezziwig standing by. I^was done in a minute. Every movable was packed off as if it were dismissed from public life forevermore. The floor was swept and watered, lamps were trimmed, fuel was heaped upon the fire, and the ware- house was as snug and warm and dry and bright a ball-room as you could desire to see upon a winter night. In came a fiddler with a music book and walked up to the lofty desk and made an orchestra of it, and tuned like fifty stomach-aches. In came Mrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile. In came the two Miss Fezziwigs, beaming and amiable. In came the six young fol- lowers, whose hearts they broke. In came all the young men and women employed in the business. In came the house maid with her cousin, the baker. In came the cook with her brother's particu- lar friend, the milkman. In they all came anyhow and everyhow ! Away they all went, twenty couples at once, hands half round and back again the other way, up the middle and down again, round and round in various stages of affectionate grouping; old top couple always turning up at the wrong place, new top couple start- ing off again as soon as they got there, all top couple at last with not a bottom one to 1 help them. — Dickens. 156 Reading and Public Speaking. Oh, to be in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brush-wood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England — now ! — Browning. The sea, the sea, the open sea, The blue, the fresh, the ever free; Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide regions round; It plays with the clouds, it mocks the skies, Or like a cradled creature lies, I'm on the sea, I'm on the sea, I am where I would ever be, With the blue above and the blue below, And silence where so'er I go. If a storm should come and awake the deep, What matter? I shall ride and sleep. Barry Cornwall. Hurrah for the sea ! the all-glorious sea ! Its might is so wondrous, its spirit so free ! And its billows beat time to each pulse of my soul, Which, impatient, like them, cannot yield to control. LESSON XLI. CONCENTRATION. Concentration is not a God-sent gift, but an acquired accomp- lishment. The student, unless he has committed against himself that greatest possible sin of inattention in the classroom, church, or other place, where the exercise of concentration is demanded, if one is to gather knowledge, will notice a constant increase in his power of concentration over his earlier school days. As a Senior, perhaps he discovers that he can learn a lesson in half the time that he could as a Freshman. In fact, it is possible so to increase the powers of concentration that a glance down the printed page will enable the mind to gather up the essential points and gist of the contents. It is plain that nothing is more to be desired, or more conducive of power, than this same acquired ability to con- centrate absolutely upon the matter at hand at a certain moment. The practice of being interested is the best means of develop- ing concentration. "Assume an interest if you have it not/' Again and again, voluntary effort is necessary to bring the mind back to the subject in hand. Some irrelevant thing constantly will inter- Reading and Public Speaking. 157 vene to divert the attention, and will-power must be brought into constant requisition to call the mind back to the original thought. It is well for each one of us to bear in mind that the degree of attention that we can give to an object will depend upon our ha- bitual methods of study and thought. Persistently call back the mind to the original thought by substituting it for the intrusive one, and an increased power of concenration will continuously manifest itself. 1. Visualize the objects presented in the following readings. 2. Concentrate the mind upon each idea or group. 3. Let the mind dwell upon each sentence. See the sights, hear the sounds, feel the feelings contained therein. 4. Shut out everything else from the mind, and allow the author to speak through you his message of beauty. When night again descended on the city it presented a spec- tacle the like of which was never seen before, and which baffles all description. The streets were streets of fire, the heavens a canopy of fire, and the entire body of the city a mass of fire, fed by a hurricane that sped the blazing fragments in a constant stream through the air. Incessant explosions, from the blowing up of stores of oil, and tar, and spirits, shook the very foundations of the city, and sent vast columns of smoke rolling furiously to- ward the sky. Huge sheets of canvas on fire came floating like messengers of death through the flames; the towers and domes of the churches and palaces glowing with a red-hot heat over the wild sea below, then tottering a moment on their bases, were hurled by the tempest into the common ruin. Thousands of wretches, before unseen, were driven by the heat from the cellars and hovels, and streamed in an incessant throng through the streets. Children were seen carrying their parents; the strong the weak; while thousands were staggering under the loads of plunder they had snatched from the flames. This, too, would frequently take fire in the falling shower, and the miserable creatures would be compelled to drop it, and flee for their lives. O, it was a scene of woe and fear inconceivable and inde- scribable! A mighty and closely-packed city of houses, and churches, and palaces, wrapped from limit to limit in flames. which are fed by a whirling hurricane, is a sight the world will seldom see. But this was within the city. To Napoleon, without, the scene was still more sublime and terrific, when the flames had overcome all obstacles, and had wrapped everything in their red mantle, that great city looked like a sea of rolling fire, swept by a tempest that drove it into billows. Huge domes and towers, throwing off sparks like blazing firebrands, now disappeared in their maddening flow, as they rushed and broke high over their tops, scattering their spray of fire against the clouds. The heavens 158 Reading and Public Speaking. themselves seemed to have caught the conflagration and the angry masses that swept it rolled over a bosom of fire. Columns of flames would rise and sink along the surface of this sea, and huge volumes of black smoke suddenly shoot into the air, as if volcanoes were working below. The black form of the Kremlin alone towered above the chaos, now wrapped in flames and smoke, again emerging into view, standing amid this scene of desolation and terror, like Virtue in the midst of a burning world, enveloped but unscathed by the devouring elements. Napoleon stood and gazed on the scene in silent awe. Though nearly three miles distant, the windows and walls of his apartment were so hot that he could scarcely bear his hands against them. Said he, years afterward : "It was a spectacle of a sea and billows of fire, a sky and clouds of flames; mountains of red rolling flames, like immense waves of the sea, alternately bursting forth and elevating them- selves to skies of flames below. O, it was the most grand, the most sublime, and the most terrific sight the world ever beheld !" ' From "The Burning of Moscow," /. T. Headly. The gray sea and the low black land; And the yellow half-moon, large and low; And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed in the slushy sand. Then a mile of warm, sea-scented beach; Three fields to cross till a farm appears; A tap at the pane, the quick, sharp scratch And blue spurt of a lighted match, And a voice less loud, thro'' its joys and fears, Then the two hearts beating each to each! Browning. "Meeting at Night". LESSON XLII. CONTRASTS. The literature of all peoples is filled with contrast, a device which is conducive to great literary effectiveness. On nearly every page of literature may be found contrasts of ideas, contrasts of emotions, contrasts of scenes, or contrasts of character. Especially does the drama manifest contrasts of character. Edgar is placed over against Edmund; Cordelia against Goneral and Regan; Macbeth against Lady Macbeth. Because literature is so filled with contrasts, their proper vocal presentation becomes a matter of some moment. Reading and Public Speaking, 159 1. Practice on the contrasts contained in the following ex- tracts, and see to it that the vocal presentation is such that the con- trasts may be produced effectively. 2. Find ten other various kinds of contrast. To beguile the time, Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue : look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it. Shakespeare. The multitude swayed to and fro like a forest beneath a temp- est, and the rage and hate of that tumultous throng vented itself in groans, and curses, and yells of vengeance. But calm, cold and immovable as the marble walls around him stood the Roman. — Ibid The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow followed free; We were the first that ever burst Into that silent sea. Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, 'Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea. Then none was for a party; Then all were for the state; Then the great man helped the poor, And the poor man loved the great; Then lands were fairly portioned; Then spoils were fairly sold: The Romans were like brothers In the brave days of old. Now Roman is to Roman More hateful than a foe, And the Tribunes beard the high, And the Fathers grind the low. As we wax hot in faction, In battle we wax cold; Wherefore men fight not as they fought In the brave days of old. CHORIC SONG. There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies. 160 Reading and Public Speaking. Here are cool mosses deep, And thro' the moss the ivy's creep, And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep, And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep. II. Why are we weighed upon with heaviness, And utterly consumed with sharp distress, While all things else have rest from weariness? All things have rest : why should we toil alone. We only toil, who are the first of things, And make perpetual moan, Still from one sorrow to another thrown; Nor ever fold our wings, And cease from wanderings, Nor steep our brows in slumber's holy balm; Nor harken what the inner spirit sings, There is no joy but calm !' — Why should we only toil, the roof and crown of things? III. Lo, in the middle of the wood, The folded leaf is woo'd from out the bud With winds upon the branch, and there Grows green and broad, and takes no care, Sun steeped at noon, and in the moon Nightly dew-fed; and turning yellow Falls, and floats adown the air. Lo! sweeten'd with the summer light, The full- juiced apple, waxing over mellow, Drops in a silent autumn night. All its allotted length of days The flower ripens in its place, Ripens and fades, and falls, and hath no toil. Fast-rooted in the fruitful soil. IV. Hateful is the dark-blue sky, Vaulted o'er the dark blue sea. Death is the end of life; ah, why Should life all labor be? Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast, And in a little while our lips are dumb. Let us alone. What is it that will last? All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful past. Let us alone. What pleasure can we have To war with evil? Is there any peace In ever climbing up the climbing wave? All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave In silence — ripen, fall, and cease : Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease. ' Reading and Public Speaking. 161 V. How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream, With half shut eyes ever to seem Falling to sleep in a half dream ! To dream and dream, like yonder amber light, Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height; To hear each other's whisper'd speech; Eating the Lotos day by day, To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And tender curving lines of creamy spray; To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of mild-minded melancholy; To muse and brood and live again in memory, With those old faces of our infancy Heap'd over with a mound of grass, Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass ! VI. Dear is the memory of our wedded lives, And dear the last embraces of our wives And their warm tears; but all hath suffered change; For surely now our household hearths are cold, Our sons inherit us, our looks are strange, And we should come like ghosts to trouble joy. Or else the island princes ever-bold Have eat our substance, and the minstrel sings Before them of the ten years' war in Troy, And our great deeds as half forgotten things. Is there confusion in the little isle? Let what is broken so remain. The Gods are hard to reconcile; 'Tis hard to settle order once again. There is confusion worse than death, Trouble on trouble, pain on pain, Long labor unto aged breath, Sore task to hearts worn out by many wars And eyes grown dim with gazing on the pilot-stars. VII. But, propt on beds of amaranth and moly, How sweet — while lull us blowing lowly — With half-dropt eyelid still, Beneath a heaven dark and holy, To watch the long bright river drawing slowly His waters from the purple hill — To hear the dewy echoes calling From cave to cave thro' the thick twined vine — To watch the emerald-color'd water falling Thro' many a woven acanthus-wreath divine! Only to hear and see the far-off sparkling brine, Only to hear were sweet, stretched out beneath the pine. — Tennyson. From The Lotus Eaters. 162 Reading and Public Speaking. SUMMER STORM. Look! look! that livid flash! And instantly follows the rattling thunder, As if some cloud-crag, split asunder, Fell, splintering with a ruinous crash, On the earth, which crouches in silence under; And now a solid gray wall of rain Shuts off the landscape, mile by mile; For a breath's space I see the blue wood again, And, ere the next heart-beat, the wind-hurled pile, That seemed but now a league aloof, Bursts crackling o'er the sun-parched roof ; Against the windows the storm comes dashing, Through tattered foliage the hail tears crashing, The blue lightning flashes, The rapid hail clashes, The white waves are tumbling, And, in one baffled roar, Like the toothless sea mumbling A rock-bristled shore, The thunder is rumbling And crashing and crumbling. — Will silence return nevermore? Hush! Still as death. The tempest holds his breath As from a sudden will; The rain stops short, but from the eaves You see it drop, and hear it from the leaves, All is so bodingly still; Again, now, now, again Plashes the rain in heavy gouts, The crinkled lightning Seems ever brightening, And loud and long Again the thunder shouts His battle-song — One quivering flash, One wildering crash, Followed by silence dead and dull, As if the cloud let go, Leapt bodily below To whelm the earth in one mad overthrow, And then a total lull. Lowell. Dry clash'd his harness in the icy caves And barren chasms, and all to left and right The bare black cliff clang'd round him, as he based His feet on juts of slippery crags that rang Sharp smitten with the dint of armed heels — And on a sudden, lo, the level lake, Reading and Public Speaking. 163 LESSON XLIII. VALUES. The Expression oe Different Thoughts and Emotions Con- tained in a Given Selection of Literature. Every time the thought or emotion changes in a selection there is a corresponding change of expression. These different forms are sometimes called values, while the act of passing from one shade of thought or feeling to another, is called transition. Some selections have in them several thoughts and emotions, and, if the proper interpretation is to be given, the reader must be in perfect sympathy with the various thoughts and emotions, in order that the voice may readily respond. The different phases of thought or emotion should not be run together, but the transi- tions should be made quickly and naturally. The mind should be schooled to pass with rapidity from one emotion to another, for when the mind acts in sympathy with the changing thought or emo- tion, the voice will change its tone color to suit the variations. The proper comprehension of Values is a vital element in the interpretation of literature. Note the transition of thoughts and emotions in the follow- ing selection and see that you are responsive to these changes, and comprehend fully the Values: Examine other selections. THE KING OF DENMARK'S RIDE. Word was brought to the Danish king (Hurry!) That the love of his heart lay suffering, And pined for the comfort his voice would bring. (O ride as though you were flying!) Better he loves each golden curl On the brow of that Scandinavian girl Than his rich crown jewels of ruby and pearl; And his Rose of the Isles is dying! Thirty nobles saddled with speed; (Hurry!) Each one mounting a gallant steed Which he kept for battle and days of need; (O ride as though you were flying!) Spurs were struck in the foaming flank; Worn-out chargers staggered and sank; Bridles were slackened, and girths were burst; But ride as they would the king rode first, For his Rose of the Isles lay dying ! 164 Reading and Public Speaking. His nobles are beaten one by one; (Hurry!) They have fainted and faltered, and homeward gone. His little fair page now follows alone, For strength and for courage trying The king looked back at that faithful child; Wan was the face that answering smiled; They passed the drawbridge with clattering din, Then he dropped; and only the king rode in Where his Rose of the Isles lay dying ! The king blew a blast on his bugle horn; (Silence!) \ No answer came; but faint and forlorn An echo returned on the cold gray morn, Like the breath of a spirit sighing. The castle portal stood grimly wide; None welcomed the king from that weary ride; For dead, in the light of the dawning day, The pale sweet form of the welcomer lay, Who had yearned for his voice while dying! The panting steed, with a drooping crest, Stood weary. The king returned from her chamber of rest, The thick sobs choking in his breast; And, that dumb companion eyeing, The tears gushed forth which he strove to check; He bowed his head on his charger's neck: "O steed, that every nerve didst strain, Dear steed, our ride hath been in vain To the halls where my love lay dying!" Caroline Norton. LESSON XLIV. ANALYSIS, Careful analysis must necessarily precede intelligent vocal presentation. In order to reflect the different shades of meaning, the motives and relationships of a given selection, the reader must have a clear perception both of the parts and of the unit, or whole. It is of manifest importance that before an effort is made to ex- press there should be a preliminary careful and thorough study of the selection to be interpreted. The reader should have printed on his mind vivid pictures of every scene portrayed by the author ; he should live with the author; feel with the author; see with the author; think the author's thought; and feel the author's feelings. Every poem, or piece of literature, if it belongs to the realm of art, must possess organic unity. It must represent a unit of Reading and Public Speaking. 165 thought, made up, to be sure, of essential parts, but those parts all contributing to the Whole, each part, in its own way, reflecting the Whole. In fact, perfect unity in a work of art is brought about only by the service rendered by each part to every other part. We must understand the parts in order fully to comprehend the Whole. Every poem or piece of literature has a Central Idea, When this Central Idea is clearly perceived, the parts that contribute to that Central Idea should readily fall into their respective places of re- lationship to the Unit of Thought. Analysis leads to the percep- tion of the Revelation, and revelation is the end of literature. Analyze several poems and selections. 1. Discover the Central Idea, or Unit of Thought. 2. Consider the Parts. 3. Consider the Service or Use of the Parts. 4. Consider the Relationship of the Parts. 5. In connection with this thought analysis, there should be an analysis of Emotional Values, together with a careful consider- ation of all points covered in these lessons that will contribute to an ideal vocal presentation. LESSON XLV. ATMOSPHERE, Atmosphere in art is a term somewhat illusive of definition. The atmosphere of a speaker is that inimitable characteristic that belongs to his personality, and is inseparable therefrom. Atmos- phere is the hidden life of the man that naturally envelops him as a silent manifestation of his soul, and quality of character. In reading a poem or a piece of literature, the spirit of the literature becomes manifest through the sympathetic quality of the voice of the reader. This quality of voice, in perfect accord with the prevailing spirit of the selection, creates the atmosphere that sheds its influence over the audience, and covers it like a cloak. Let the speaker lose, even for an instant, perfect accord with the prevailing spirit of a given selection, and the atmosphere is dissipated or destroyed, while the sense of satisfaction that comes through the unity, completeness, and wholeness that characterizes art, goes glimmering, and the atmosphere must be recreated before the sense of fitness is re-established. There may be an atmosphere of dignity about a poem ; a poem or selection of literature may have a pervading joyous atmosphere; an atmosphere of solemnity ; an atmosphere of grandeur or sublim- ity; an atmosphere of serenity and beauty; an atmsophere of love; 1 66 Reading and Public Speaking. or a humorous atmosphere. In the rendition of a selection, the reader should be in such vital communion with its inherent mood or spirit that his sympathy with that spirit will cause his voice and personality to create the proper atmosphere for his hearers. In many selections, especially long ones, there may be a va- riety of atmosphere resident in the different paragraphs or stanzas; but if the student is able to recognize and produce effectively the atmosphere when one spirit predominates, he should be able to unify the different atmospheres in selections that involve transi- tions. In the remaining lessons, such selections have been chosen that especially illustrate a single prevailing, enveloping atmosphere. 1. Examine the selections carefully, and interpret them correctly, by allowing the spirit of the selections to reflect upon your sympathies, so that the voice will produce the atmosphere inherent in the selections. 2. Find three other selections from literature under each iesson to illustrate the given atmosphere. 3. Find three selections where there is a variety of atmos- phere manifest. LESSON XLVL From MAUD. Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, has flown, Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone; And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the rose is blown. II. For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves, On a bed of daffodil sky, To faint in the light of the sun she loves, To faint in his light, and to die. III. All night have the roses heard The flute, violin, bassoon; All night has the casement jessamine stirr'd To the dancers dancing in tune- Till a silence fell with the waking bird, And a hush with the setting moon. Reading and Public Speaking. 167 IV. I said to the lily, 'There is but one, With whom she has heart to be gay. When will the dancers leave her alone? She is weary of dance and play.' Now half to the setting moon are gone, And half to the rising day; Low on the sand and loud on the stone The last wheel echoes away. V. I said to the rose, 'The brief night goes In babble and revel and wine. O young lord-lover, what sighs are those, For one that will never be thine? But mine, but mine ! so I swear to the rose, 'For ever and ever, mine.' VI. And the soul of the rose went into my blood, As the music clashed in the hall; And long by the garden lake I stood, For I heard your rivulet fall From the lake to the meadow and on to the wood, Our wood that is dearer than all; VII. From the meadow your walks have left so sweet That whenever a March-wind sighs He sets the jewel-print of your feet In violets blue as your eyes, To the woody hollows in which we meet And the valleys of Paradise. VIII. The slender acacia would not shake One long milk-bloom on the tree; The white lake-blossom fell into the lake As the pimpernal dozed on the lea; But the rose was awake all night for your sake, Knowing your promise to me; The lillies and roses were all awake, They sigh'd for the dawn and thee. IX. Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls, Come hither, the dances are done, In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls, Queen lily and rose in one; Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls, To the flowers and be their sun. 1 68 Reading and Public Speaking. X. There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life my fate. The red rose cries, 'She is near, she is near; And the white rose weeps, 'She is late;' The larkspur listens, 'I hear, I hear;' And the lily whispers, 'I wait.' XL She is coming, my own, my sweet; Were it ever so airy a tread, My heart would hear her and beat, Were it earth in an earthy bed; My dust would hear her and beat, Had I lain for a century dead, Would start and tremble under her feet, And blossom in purple and red. — Tennyson. ENDYMION. The rising moon has hid the stars; Her level rays, like golden bars, Lie on the landscape green, With shadows brown between. And silver white the river gleams, As if Diana, in her dreams, Had dropt her silver bow Upon the meadows low. On such a tranquil night as this, She woke Endymion with a kiss, When sleeping in the grove, He dreamed not of her love. Like Dian's kiss, unasked, unsought, Love gives itself, but is not bought; Nor voice, nor sound betrays Its deep, impassioned gaze. It comes, — the beautiful, the free, The crown of all humanity, — In silence and alone To seek the elected one. It lifts the boughs, whose shadows deep, Are life's oblivion, the soul's sleep, And kisses the closed eyes Of him, who slumbering lies. O weary hearts ! O slumbering eyes ! O drooping souls, whose destinies Are fraught with fear and pain, Ye shall be loved again ! Reading and Public Speaking. i6g No one is so accursed by fate. No one so utterly desolate. But some heart, though unknown, Responds unto his own. Responds, — as if with unseen wings, An angel touched its quivering strings; And whispers in its song, "Where hast thou stayed so long !" Longfellow. LESSON XLVII. THE RAINY DAY. The day is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining ; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary. Longfellow. THE OLD CLOCK ON THE STAIRS. Somewhat back from the village street Stands the old-fashioned country-seat. Across its antique portico Tall poplar-trees their shadows throw, And from its station in the hall An ancient timepiece says to all, — "Forever — never ! Never — forever !" Half-way up the stairs it stands, And points and beckons with its hands From its case of massive oak, Like a monk, who, under his cloak, Crosses himself, and sighs, alas ! With sorrowful voice to all who pass, — "Forever — never ! Never — forever !" 170 Reading and Public Speaking. By day its voice is low and light; But in the silent dead of night, Distinct as a passing footstep's fall, It echoes along the vacant hall, Along the ceiling, along the floor, And seems to say, at each chamber door, "Forever — never ! Never — forever !" Through days of sorrow and of mirth, Through days of death and days of birth, Through every swift vicissitude Of changeful time, unchanged it has stood, And as if, like God, it all things saw, It calmly repeats those words of awe, — "Forever — never ! Never — forever !" In that mansion used to be Free-hearted hospitality; His great fires up the chimney roared; The stranger feasted at his board; But, like the skeleton at the feast, That warning timepiece never ceased, "Forever — never ! Never — forever !" There groups of merry children played, There youths and maidens dreaming strayed j O precious hours ! O golden prime ! And affluence of love and time ! Even as a miser counts his gold, Those hours the ancient timepiece told, — "Forever — never ! Never — forever !" From that chamber clothed in white, The bride came forth on her wedding night; There, in that silent room below, The dead lay in his shroud of snow; And in the hush that followed the prayer, Was heard the old clock on the stair, — "Forever — never ! Never — forever !" All are scattered now and fled, Some are married, some are dead; And when I ask, with throbs of pain, "Ah! when shall they all meet again? As in the days long since gone by, The ancient timepiece makes reply, — "Forever — never ! Never — forever !" Never here, forever there, Where all parting, pain and care, And death and time shall disappear, — Forever there, but never here ! The horologe of eternity Sayeth this incessantly, — "Forever — never ! Never — forever !" Longfellow. Reading and Public Speaking. 171 LESSON XLIII. A GREAT RECORD OF BAD LUCK. A weather-beaten woman of melancholy and discouraged mien sat opposite a drummer on a railway train. She was clad in rusty mourning and her appearance indicated that her loss had been recent. As the train neared Chicago she leaned over and said: "What place we comin' to next, mister?" "Chicago', Madam." "Let's see, that's in Illinois, ain't it ? I orter know ; I declare, I forgot I'd ever been in Illinois. I bury'd my first husband there about twenty years ago an' I ain't been there since. I went way down in Ioway from Illinois an' that was about eighteen years ago; then I went down to South Carolina from Ioway." "Oh, I've been there." "You hev! Did you ever come across a place called Black Snakes Forks?" "Black Snakes Forks — No, I don't believe I ever did." "No? (squeaky) Well, Hen Dobson lays there." "Who's Mr. Dobson?" "My third husband an' a right smart man he wus, tew; now he had a cousin named Ben Daggett. Did you ever come across him?" "Daggett — Daggett — No, I think not." "Well, you'd hev known him ef you had. Him an' me wuz married out in Georgy, but he lies buried about nine miles from Atlanty." "So you live in Georgia?" "Land, no! I ain't been there for mor'n a dozen years. I went way up in Minnesoty from Georgia an' I met Tom Hixon there." "TomHixson?" "Yes, him an' me lived up there fer most a year after we wuz married, then a blamed ole white mule 'at we had, up an' kicked Tom so fatally that I buried him one cold day, up in the snow near St. Paul. Then I sold out an' went down to Kansas near Atchison an' tuk up a quarter section o' land along joinin' a real smart man named Dill." "And — you — you — you — ?" "Yes, I married Dill, but he took the chills an' fever 'fore three months wuz up an' I wuz a widow 'fore the year wuz out" "Well, that was bad." "O, I've had mighty bad luck, I have." "Well, I should say you had." "O, that's what I have, there wuz Ben Barber, after him an' me wuz narried out in California, we wuz gitten along splendid, ij2 Reading and Public Speaking. making money hand over fist, when all of a sudden Ben ups an' goes head first down a three hundred foot shaft, an' I wuz a widow before the poor man struck bottom." "Then you left California, did you?" "Well, I stayed there eight or ten months an' then Bob thought—" "Bob who?" "Bob White. He wuz Ben's pardner and he didn't give me no peace till I married him, — but he's buried in the Black Hills." "Well, Great Scott ! Do you make a business of going around the country and burying husbands?" "Well, that's a pretty way to talk to a poor lone widow who's got her husband's corpse in the baggage car ahead, a-takin' him out to Dakota to bury him along with the rest of his kin folks. I'd be ashamed to be so unfeelin'. I don't believe you've ever been married — — — Say! have you mister?" "Well, I don't care to be buried this year, thank you!" THE BALD HEADED MAN. The other day a lady accompanied by her son, a very small boy, boarded a train at Little Rock. The woman had a careworn expression. "Ma," said the boy, pointing to a bald-headed man sitting just in front of them, "that man's like a baby, ain't he?" "Hush!" "Why must I hush? Ma, what's the matter with that man's head?" "Hush, I tell you. He's bald." "What's bald?" "His head hasn't got any hair on it." "Did it come off?" "I guess so." "Will mine come off?" "Some time, maybe." "Then I'll be bald, won't I?" "Yes." "Will you care?" "Don't ask so many questions." "Ma, look at that fly on that man's head." "If you don't hush, I'll whip you when we get home." "Look! There's another fly. Look at 'em fight, look at 'em!" "Madam," said the man, putting aside a newspaper and look- ing around, "What's the matter with that young hyena?" Reading and Public Speaking. . . 173 The woman blushed, stammered out something, and attempted to smooth back the boy's hair. "One fly, two flies, three flies," said the boy innocently, fol- lowing with his eyes a basket of oranges carried by a newsboy. "Here you young hedgehog," said the bald-headed man, "if you don't hush, I'll have the conductor put you off the train." The poor woman, not knowing what else to do, boxed the boy's ears, and then gave him an orange to keep him from crying. "Ma, have I got red marks on my head?" "I'll whip you again if you don't hush." "Mister," said the boy after a short silence, "does it hurt to be bald-headed?" "Youngster," said the man, "if you'll keep quiet, I'll give you a quarter." The boy promised, and the money was paid over. The man took up his paper, and resumed his reading. "This is my bald-headed money, said the boy. When I get bald-headed, Im goin' to give boys money- Mister have all bald- headed men got money. The annoyed man threw down his paper, arose and ex- claimed, "Madam, hereafter, when you travel, leave that young gorilla at home. Hitherto, I always thought that the old prophet was very cruel for calling the bears to kill the children for making sport of his head, but now I am forced to believe that he did a Christian act. If your boy had been in that crowd he would have died first. If I can't find another seat on this train, I'll ride on the cow-catcher rather than remain here." "The bald-headed man is gone," said the boy. DARIUS GREEN AND HIS FLYING MACHINE. An aspiring genius was Dary Green: The son of a farmer, — age fourteen; His body was long and lank and lean, — Just right for flying, as will be seen; He had two eyes as bright as a bean, And a freckled nose that grew between, A little awry; for I must mention That he had riveted his attention Upon his wonderful invention, Twisting his tongue as he twisted the strings, And working his face as he worked the wings, And with every turn of gimlet or screw Turning and screwing his mouth round too. 1/4 Reading and Public Speaking. And wise he must have been, to do more Than ever a genius did before, Excepting Daedalus of yore And his son Icarus, who wore Upon their backs those wings of wax He had read of in the old almanacs. Darius was clearly of the opinion, That the air is also man's dominion, And that, with paddle or fin or pinion, We soon or late shall navigate The azure as now we sail the sea. The thing looks simple enough to me; And, if you doubt it, Hear how Darius reasoned about it : "The birds can fly, an' why can't I ? Must we give in," says he with a grin, "That the bluebird an' phoebe are smarter'n we be? That Icarus made a pretty muss, — Him and his daddy Daedalus; They might 'a' knowed that wings o' wax Wouldn't stand sun-heat an' hard whacks : I'll make mine o' luther, ur suthin' ur other." And he said to himself, as he tinkered and planned, "But I ain't goin' to show my hand To mummies that never can understand The fust idee that's big an' grand." So he kept his secret from all the rest, Safely buttoned within his vest; And in the loft above the shed Himself he locks, with thimble and thread And wax and hammer and buckles and screws, And all such things as geniuses use ; — Two bats for patterns, curious fellows! A charcoal-pot and a pair of bellows; Some wire, and several old umbrellas ; A carriage cover, for tail and wings; A piece of harness ; and straps and strings ; And a big strong box, in which he locks These and a hundred other things. And, whenever at work he happen'd to spy At chink or crevice a blinking eye, He let a dipper of water fly: "Take that! an', ef ever ye git a peep, Guess ye'll ketch a weasel asleep !" So, day after day, He stitched and tinkered and hammered away, Till at last 'twas done, — The greatest invention under the sun! "An' now," says Darius, "hooray fur some fun !" 'Twas the Fourth of July, and the weather was dry, And not a cloud was on all the sky, Reading and Public Speaking. 175 Just as lovely a morning as ever was seen For a nice little trip in a flying machine. Thought cunning Darius, "Now, I shan't go Along 'ith the fellers to see the show : I'll say I've got sich a terrible cough ! An' then, when the folks *ave all gone off, I'll hev full swing fur to try the thing, An' practice a little on the wing." "Ain't goin' to see the celebration?" Says brother Nate, "NO ; botheration ! I've got sich a cold — a toothache — I — My gracious — feel's though I should fly!" Said Jotham, " 'Sho ! guess ye better go." But Darius said, "No ! Shouldn't wonder 'f you might see me, though, 'Long 'bout noon, ef I get red O' this jumpin', thumpin', pain'n my head." For all the while to himself he said, — "I tell ye what I'll fly a few times around the lot, To see how 't seems, then soon's I've got The hang o' the thing, ez likely's not, I'll astonish the nation, an' all creation, By f lyin' over the celebration ! I'll make b'lieve I'm a chap f'm the moon; An' I'll try a race 'ith their ol' balloon!" His brothers had walked but a little way, When Jotham to Nathan chanced to say, "What is the feller up to, hey?" "Don' o', — the's suthin' ur other to pay, Ur he wouldn't 'a' stayed to hum to-day." Says Burke, "His toothache's all'n his eye! He never'd miss a Fo'th o' July, Ef he hedn't got some machine to try," Then Sol, the little one, spoke: "By darn Le's hurry back, an' hide 'n the barn, An* pay him fur tellin' us that yarn !" "Agreed !" Through the orchard they creep back, Along by the fences, behind the stack, And, one by one, through a hole in the wall, In under the dusty barn they crawl. As knights of old put on their mail, — From head to foot an iron suit, Iron jacket and iron boot, Iron breeches, and on the head No hat, but an iron pot instead, So this modern knight prepared for flight, Put on his wings and strapped them tight, — Jointed and jaunty, strong and light, — Buckled them fast to shoulder and hip, — Ten feet they measured from tip to tip ! 176 Reading and Public Speaking. And a helm had he, but that he wore, Not on his head, like those of yore, But more like the helm of a ship. "Hush!" Reuben said, "he's up in the shed! He's opened the winder, — I see his head ! He stretches it out, an' pokes it about, Lookin' to see 'f the coast is clear, An' nobody near; — Guess he don' o' who's hid in here! He's riggin' a spring-board over the sill ! Stop laf fin', Solomon ! Burke, keep still ! He's a climbin' out now, — Of all the things! What's he got on ? I van, its wings ! An' that t'other thing? I vum, it's a tail! An' there he sets like a hawk on a rail ! Steppin' careful, he travels the length Of his spring-board, and teeters to try its strength. Now he stretches his wings, like a monstrous bat; Peeks over his shoulder this way an' that, Fur to see 'f the' 's any one passin' by, But the' 's on'y a ca'f an' a goslin' nigh. They turn up at him wonderin' eye, To see — The dragon ! He's goin' to fly ! Away he goes! Jimminy ! what a jump! Flop — flop — an' plump to the ground with a thump ! Flutt'rin' an' flound'rin', all'n a lump !" As a demon is hurled by an angel's spear, Heels over head, to his proper sphere, — Heels over head, and head over heels, Dizzily down the abyss he wheels, — So fell Darius. Upon his crown, In the midst of the barn-yard, he came down, In a wonderful whirl of tangled strings, Broken braces and broken springs, Broken tail and broken wings, Shooting-stars, and various things. Away with a bellow fled the calf, And what was that? Did the gosling laugh? 'Tis a merry roar from the old barn-door, And he hears the voice of Jotham crying: "Say, D'rius ! how do you like f lyin' ?" Slowly, ruefully, where he lay, Darius just turned and looked that way, As he stanched his sorrowful nose with his cuff. "Wall, I like flyin' well enough," He said; "but the' ain't sich a thunderin' sight O' fun in't when ye come to light. — Trowbridge. Reading and Public Speaking. 177 LESSON LIX. THE FIRST QUARREL. I. "Wait a little*', you say, "you are sure it'll all come right," I am all alone in the world, an' you are my only friend. Doctor, if you can wait, I'll tell you the tale o' my life. When Harry an' I were children, he call'd me his own little wife. I was happy when I was with him, an' sorry when he was away, An' when we play'd together, I loved him better than play; He workt me the daisy chain, he made me the cowslip ball, He fought the boys that were rude, an' I loved him better than all. Passionate girl tho' I was, an' often at home in disgrace, I never could quarrel with Harry — I had but to look in his face. II. There was a farmer in Dorset of Harry's kin, that had need Of a good stout lad at his farm ; he sent, an' the father agreed ; So Harry was bound to the Dorsetshire farm for years an' for years; I walked with him down to the quay, poor lad, an' we parted in tears. The boat was beginning to move, we heard them a-ringing the bell, "I'll never love any but you, God bless you, my own little Nell." III. And years went over till I that was little had grown so tall, The men would say of the maids, "Our Nelly's the flower of 'em all". I didn't take heed of them, but I taught myself all I could To make a good wife for Harry, when Harry came home for good. Often I seemed unhappy, an' often as happy too, For I heard it abroad in the fields, "I'll never love any but you"; "I'll never love any but you", the morning song of the lark, "I'll never love any but you", the nightingale's hymn in the dark. IV. And Harry came home at last, but he looked at me sidelong and shy, Vext me a bit till he told me that so many years had gone by, I had grown so handsome and tall — that I might ha' forgot him somehow- For he thought — there were other lads — he was fear'd to look at me now. Hard was the frost in the field, we were married o' Christmas day, Married among the red berries, an' all as merry as May — Those were the pleasant times, my house an' my man were my pride, We seemed like ships i' the channel a-sailing with wind an* tide. V. But work was scant in the Isle, tho' he tried the villages round, So Harry went over the Solent to see if work could be found; An' he wrote, "I ha' six weeks work, little wife, so far as I know ; I'll come for an hour to-morrow, an kiss you before I go." So I set to righting the house, for wasn't he coming that day? An' I hit on an old deal-box that was pushed in a corner away, It was full of odds an' ends, an' a letter along wi' the rest, I had better ha' put my naked hand in a hornet's nest. 178 Reading and Public Speaking. VI. "Sweetheart" — this was the letter — this was the letter I read — "You promised to find me work near you, an' I wish I was dead — Didn't you kiss me an' promise? you haven't done it, my lad, An' I almost died o' your going away, an' I wish that I had." I, too, wish that I had — in the pleasant times that had past, Before I quarrel'd with Harry — my quarrel — the first — an' the last. For Harry came in, an' I flung him the letter that drove me wild, An' he told it me all at once, as simple as any child, "What can it matter, my lass, what I did wi' my single life? I ha' been as true to you as ever a man to his wife; An' she 'wasn't one o' the worst.' " "Then", I said, "I'm none o' the best." An* he smiled at me, "Ain't you, my love? Come, come, little wife, let it restl The man isn't like the woman, no need to make such a stir." But he angered me all the more, an' I said, "You were keeping with her, When I was a-loving you all along an' the same as before." An' he didn't speak for awhile, an' he anger'd me more and more. Then he patted my hand in his gentle way, "Let bygones be !" "Bygones ! you kept yours hush'd," I said, "when you married me ! Bygones ma' be come agains; I hate her — an' I hate you! Ah, Harry, my man, you had better ha' beaten me black an* blue Than ha' spoken so kind as you did, when I were so crazy wi' spite. "Wait a little, my lass, I am sure it 'ill all come right." VIII. An' he took three turns in the rain, an' I watched him, an' when he came in I felt that my heart was hard, he was all wet thro' to the skin, An' I never said "off wi' the wet," I never said "on wi' the dry," So I knew my heart was hard, when he came to bid me goodbye. "You said that you hated me, Ellen, but that isn't true, you know; I am going to leave you a bit — you'll kiss me before I go? Going! you're going to her — kiss her — if you will," I said — "I had sooner be cursed than kiss'd!" I didn't know well what I meant, But I turned my face from him, an' he turned his face an' he went. IX. And then he sent me a letter, "I've gotten my work to do: You wouldn't kiss me, my lass, an' I never loved any but you : I am sorry for all the quarrel an' sorry for what she wrote, I ha' six weeks work in Jersey an' go to-night by boat." An' the wind began to rise, an' I thought of him out at sea, An' I felt I had been to blame; he was always so kind to me, "Wait a little, my lass, I am sure it 'ill all come right" — An' the boat went down that night — the boat went down that night. Alfred Tennyson. EDWARD GRAY. Sweet Emma Moreland of yonder town Met me walking on yonder way; "And have you lost your heart?" she said; "And are you married yet, Edward Gray?" Reading and Public Speaking. 181 That orbed maiden, with fire laden, Whom mortals call the Moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn; And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tents thin roof, The stars peep behind her and peer; And I laugh to see them whirl and flee, Like a swarm of golden bees, When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent, Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas, Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high, Are each paved with the moon and these. I bind the sun's throne with a burning zone, And the moon's with a girdle of pearl; The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim, When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl. From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape, Over a torrent sea, Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof, — The mountains its columns be. The triumphal arch, through which I march, With hurricane, fire, and snow, When the powers of the air are chained to my chair, Is the million-colored bow; The sphere-fire above its soft colors wove, While the moist earth was laughing below. I am the daughter of earth and water, And the nursling of the sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain, when with never a stain The pavilion of heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, — And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again. Shelley, THE SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN. O the South Wind and the Sun! How each loved the other one — Full of fancy — full of folly — Full of jollity and fun! How they romped and ran about, Like two boys when school is out, With glowing face, and lisping lip, Low laugh, and lifted shout! 1 82 Reading and Public Speaking. And the South Wind — he was dressed With a ribbon round his breast That floated, flopped and fluttered In a riotous unrest; And a drapery of mist, From the shoulder and the wrist Flowing backward with the motion Of the waving hand he kissed. And the Sun had on a crown Wrought of gilded thistle-down, And a scarf of velvet vapor, And a raveled-rainbow gown; And his tinsel-tangled hair, Tossed and lost upon the air, Was glossier and flossier Than any anywhere. And the South Wind's eyes were two Little dancing drops of dew, As he puffed his cheeks, and pursed his lips, And blew, and blew, and blew! And the Sun's like diamond-stone, Brighter yet than ever known, As he knit his brows and held his breath, And shone, and shone, and shone! And this pair of merry fays Wandered through the summer days; Arm and arm they went together Over heights of morning haze — Over slanting slopes of lawn They went on, and on, and on, Where the daisies looked like star-tracks Trailing up ajid down the dawn. And where'er they found the top Of a wheat-stalk droop and lop, They chucked it underneath the chin And praised the lavish crop, Till it lifted with the pride Of the heads it grew beside, And then the South Wind and the Sun Went onward satisfied. And the humming-bird, that hung Like a jewel up among The tilted honeysuckle-horns, They mesmerized, and swung In the palpitating air, Drowsed with odors strange and rare, And with whispered laughter, slipped away And left him hanging there. Reading and Public Speaking. 179 Sweet Emma Moreland spoke to me : Bitterly weeping, I turned away; "Sweet Emma Moreland, love no more Can touch the heart of Edward Gray. "Ellen Adair she loved me well, Against her father's and mother's will : To-day I sat for an hour and wept, By Ellen's grave, on the windy hill. "Shy she was, and I thought her cold; Thought her proud, and fled over the sea; Filled I was with folly and spite, When Ellen Adair was dying for me. "Cruel, cruel the words I said! Cruelly came they back to-day: 'You're too slight and fickle/ I said, 'To trouble the heart of Edward Gray.' "There I put my face in the grass — Whispered, Listen to my despair : I repent me of all I did; Speak a little, Ellen Adair!' "Then I took a pencil and wrote On the mossy stone, as I lay, 'Here lies the body of Ellen Adair; And here the heart of Edward Gray !' "Love may come, and love may go, And fly, like a bird, from tree to tree; But I will love no more, no more, Till Ellen Adair come back to me. "Bitterly wept I over the stone : Bitterly weeping, I turned away; There lies the body of Ellen Adair; And there the heart of Edward Gray!" Tennyson. BREAK, BREAK, BREAK. Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea ! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O well for the sailor-lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their hav,en under the hill; But O for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still. Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me. Tennyson. 180 Reading and Public Speaking. LESSON L. THE CLOUD. I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From the wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder. I sift the snow on the mountains below, And their great pines groan aghast; And all the night 'tis my pillow white, While I sleep in the arms of the blast. Sublime on the towers of my skyey bowers, Lightning my pilot sits; In a cavern under is fettered the thunder, It struggles and howls at fits ; Over earth and ocean with gentle motion, This pilot is guiding me, Lured by the love of the genii that move In the depths of the purple sea; Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills, Over the lakes and the plains, Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream, The Spirit he loves remains; And I all the while bask in heaven's blue smile, Whilst he is dissolving in rains. The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes, And his burning plumes outspread, Leaps on the back of my sailing rack, When the morning star shines dead; As on the jag of a mountain crag, Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit one moment may sit In the light of its golden wings. And when sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath, Its ardors of rest and of love, And the crimson pall of eve may fall From the depth of heaven above, With wings folded I rest, on mine airy nest, As still as a brooding dove. Reading and Public Speaking. 185 I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight, The manifold, soft chimes, That fill the haunted chambers of the Night, Like some old poet's rhymes. From the cool cisterns of the midnight air My spirit drank repose; The fountain of perpetual peace flows there, — From those deep cisterns flows. O holy Night! from thee I learn to bear What man has borne before! Thou layest thy finger on the lips of care, And they complain no more. Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this prayer! Descend with broad-winged flight, The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most fair, The best-beloved Night. — Longfellow. THE BURIAL OF MOSES. By Nebo's lonely mountain, On this side Jordan's wave, In a vale in the land of Moab, There lies a lonely grave; But no man dug that sepulchre, And no man saw it e'er, For the angels of God upturned the sod, And laid the dead man there. That was the grandest funeral That ever passed on earth ; But no man heard the tramping, Or saw the train go forth; Noiselessly as the daylight Comes when the night is done, And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek Grows into the great sun, — Noiselessly as the springtime Her crown of verdure weaves, And all the trees on all the hills Open their thousand leaves, — So, without sound of music, Or voice of them that wept, Silently down from the mountain crown The great procession swept. Perchance the bald old eagle, On gray Beth-poer's height, Out of his rocky eyrie, Looked on the wondrous sight. Perchance the Hon stalking, Still shuns the hallowed spot; For beast and bird have seen and heard That which man knoweth not. 1 86 Reading and Public Speaking. This was the bravest warrior That ever buckled sword; This the most gifted poet That ever breathed a word; And never earth's philosopher Traced, with his golden pen, On the deathless page, truths half so sage, As he wrote down for men. And had he not high honor, The hillside for his pall; To lie in state while angels wait With stars for tapers tall: And the dark rock pines, like tossing plumes, Over his bier to wave; And God's own hand in that lonely land, To lay him in the grave? — In that deep grave, without a name, Whence his uncoffined clay Shall break again — most wondrous thought — Before the judgment day, And stand with glory wrapped around On the hills he never trod, And speak of the strife that won our life With the Incarnate Son of God. O, lonely tomb in Moab's land, O, dark Beth-peor's hill, Speak to these curious hearts of ours, And teach them to be still. God hath his mysteries of Grace — Ways that we cannot tell; He hides them deep, like the secret sleep Of him he loved so well. Mrs. Cecil Francis Alexander. CROSSING THE BAR. Sunset and evening star, and one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar when I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep, turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, and after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, when I embark; For tho from out our bourn of time and place the flood may bear me far, I hope to see my pilot face to face, when I have crost the bar. — Tennyson. Reading and Public Speaking. 183 By the brook with mossy brink, Where the cattle came to drink, They trilled, and piped, and whistled With the thrush and bobolink, Till the kine, in listless pause, Switched their tales in mute applause, With lifted head and dreamy eyes, And bubble-dripping jaws. And where the melons grew, Streaked with yellow, green, and blue, These jolly sprites went wandering Through spangled paths of dew. And the melons, here and there, They made love to, everywhere, Turning their pink souls to crimson With caresses fond and fair. Over orchard walls they went, Where the fruited boughs were bent Till they brushed the sward beneath them Where the shine and shadow blent; And the great green pear they shook Till the sallow hue forsook Its features, and the gleam of gold Laughed out in every look. And they stroked the downy cheek Of the peach, and smoothed it sleek, And flushed it into splendor; And, with many an elfish freak, Gave the russet's rust a wipe — Prankt the rambo with a stripe, And the winesap blushed its reddest As they spanked the pippins ripe. And the golden-banded bees, Droning o'er the flowery leas, They bridled, reined, and rode away Across the fragrant breeze, Till in hollow oak and elm They had groomed and stabled them In waxen stalls that oozed with dews Of rose and lily stem. Where the dusty highway leads, High above the wayside weeds, They sowed the air with butterflies Like blooming flower-seeds, Till the dull grasshopper sprung Half a man's height up, and hung Tranced in the heat, with whirring wings, And sung, and sung, and sung! 184 Reading and Public Speaking. And they heard the kildee's call, And afar, the waterfall, But the rustle of a falling leaf They heard above it all; And the trailing willow crept Deeper in the tide that swept The leafy shallop to the shore, And wept, and wept, and wept ! And the fairy vessel veered From its moorings — tacked and steered For the center of the current — Sailed away and disappeared : And the burthen that it bore From the long enchanted shore — "Alas! the South Wind and the Sun I murmur evermore. For the South Wind and the Sun, Each so loves the other one, For all his jolly folly, And frivolity and fun, That our love for them they weigh As their fickle fancies may, And when at last we love them most, They laugh and sail away. Riley. A LAUGHING SONG. When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy, And the dimpling stream runs laughing by; When the air does laugh with our merry wit, And the green hill laughs with the noise of it; When the meadows laugh with lively green, And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene; When Mary, Susan, and Emily, With their sweet round mouths sing "Ha, ha, he!" When the painted birds laugh in the shade, Where our table with cherries and nuts is spread: Come live, and be merry, and join with me To sing the sweet chorus of "Ha, ha, he!" HYMN TO THE NIGHT. I heard the trailing garments of the Night Sweep through her marble halls ! I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light From the celestial walls! I felt her presence, by its spell of might, Stoop o'er me from above; The calm, majestic presence of the Night, As of the one I love. OCT 23 !9!3 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 027 249 428 9 Hollinger Corp. pH 8.5 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 027 249 428 9 Hollinger Corp.