LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, Shelf Jgffi| UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. THE NORMAL READER J. V. COOMBS Formerly Professor of English Literature and Elocution in Eureka College, Eureka, III. ASSISTED BY VIRGIL A. PINKLEY Principal of the Department of Elocution in School of Music, Cincinnati, Ohio. REVISED AND ENLARGED C. H. HARNE Professor of Elocution and Reading in Salina Normal University, Salina, Kan. INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA: NORMAL PUBLISHING HOUSE J. E. SHERRILL, PROPRIETOR 1891. Y\\ COPYRIGHT 15V J. V. COOMBS L884. COPYRIGHT BY J. E. SHERRILL 1891. CARLON & HOLLENBECK, PE INTERS AND BINDERS, INDIANAPOLIS. (ii) TO ALL WHO DESIRE TO MAKE READING A SPECIALTY THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY gt&xc^UA BY The Author. (iii) CONTENTS. PAGE. Preface ...... 1 Introduction . 3 PAET I. How to Teacha Child to Eead 5 PAET II. DICTIONARY WORK. 1. Pronunciation 17 2. Key -to Pronunciation 19 3. Elementary Sounds , 22 4. Principles of Pronunciation 27 5. Articulation 30 6. Words of ten Mispronounced 32 PAET III. 1. How to Teach Eeading..... 34 2. Examples for Practice 43 PAET IV. ELOCUTION. 1. Art of Delivery 49 2. Outline of Elocution , 51 3. Plan of Studies 51 4. Elements 52 5. Eespiration .". 54 6. Breathing 55 7. Formulas 57 8. Articulation 64 9. Orthoepy 73 10. Vocal Culture 88 11. Exercises for Drill 90 12. Quality 106 13. Vocal Expression 112 14. Volume 116 (v) v i CONTENTS. ,- „ . 119 15- Rate 123 16. Gesture " 17. Suggestions 1. To Ministers "° 2. To Lawyers l6d PART V. ALPHABETICAL LIST OF SELECTIONS. Abou Ben Adhem Ambition of a Statesman Annabel Lee Asleep at the Switch ~ AtElberon " Awfully Lovely Philosophy B 240 Baby's First Toot Bald-Headed Man, The *™ Barbara Frietchie " Bangs " 209 Baron's Last Banquet, The Bells, The • Bells of Shandon,The ^ Bill and I -_o Blacksmith's Story, The _, . 254 Boot-Blacks 200 Botany ^^ Brakeman at Church Bridge, The " 267 Broken Hearts 7 Brutus and Cassius Bugle Song " 255 Burrs Trial C 276 Cato's Soliloquy ^ 233 Chewing Gum 230 Coquette Punished " 2g4 Courtship Under Difficulties CONTENTS. Vll Creeds of the Bells, The 370 Crime its Own Detecter 331 Curfew Must not Eing To-Night 313 Curing a Cold 183 D David's Lament over Absalom 222 Demagogue, The 362 Dot Baby of Mine 232 Dot Lambs Vot Mary Haf Got 272 Dutchman's Serenade 269 E Entertaining Sister's Beau 234 Eulogy on Garfield 352 Extract from a Sermon on the Death of Abraham Lincoln... 372 F Fall of Pemberton Mills 175 Famine, The 166 Farm-Yard Song 374 Forty Years Ago 143 Foxes' Tails, The.. 344 Freckled-Faced Girl, The 283 Fretting 260 G Gape-Seed * 251 Good Beading 359 Grattan's Reply to Mr. Corry 319 Grave, The 266 Gray's Elegy 161 Green Mountain Justice 228 H Hamlet's Instruction to the Player 365 Henry V. at Harfleur 352 Horatius at the Bridge 360 How He Saved St. Michael 366 How "Ruby "Played 297 How We Hunted a Mouse 291 I If We Knew ,... 146 Interesting Traveling Companion, An 148 Vlll CONTENTS. K Katie Lee and Willie Gray 318 Kentucky Belle 195 Kentucky Philosophy 170 L Lady Clara Vere de Vere 171 Last Hymn, The 270 Little Hatchet Story, The 306 Liberty and Union 242 Literary Nightmare, A 235 Little Jim 173 M Maclaine's Child 329 Maud Muller 190 Man's a Man for a' That, A 193 Marmion and Douglas 223 Marco Bozzaris 157 Mark Twain and the Interviewer 152 Massachusetts and South Carolina , 355 Model American Girl 249 Moneyless Man, The 309 Modulation 376 Mrs. Lofty 164 My Trundle Bed 273 N Naughty Little Girl 211 O Oh! Why Should the Spirit of Mortal be Proud ? 274 Our Folks 312 Over The River 158 Owl Critic 226 P Paul Eevere's Ride 381 Paul's Defense before Agrippa 384 Paradise and the Peri 203 Parrhasius 198 Pilot, The 151 Pitt's Reply to Walpole 252 Polish Boy 341 Pyramids not all Egyptian 377 CONTENTS. IX R Eainy Day, A 183 Haven, The 386 Eide of Jennie McNeal, The 185 Eiding on the Rail 325 Eising of 1776 247 Eock of Ages 147 Eural Life in England 246 S Scene From Hamlet , 302 Schooling a Husband 243 Scott and the Veteran .. 364 Scrooge and Marley 369 Seven Sticks, The 160 Setting a Hen 215 Sheridan's Eide 389 Ship on Fire, The 305 Shores of Tennessee, On the 219 Sister and 1 390 South Carolina...,. 354 Stay on the Farm 214 Spartacus to the Gladiator 315 Speak Gently 159 Spoopendyke's Burglars 276 Supposed Speech of James Otis 323 T Thanatopsis 357 Tom the Drummer Boy 327 Too Late for the Train 256 Transportation of Mitchell 263 Trial of Endurance, A 293 U Uncle Daniel's Introduction 179 Uncle Tom and the Hornets 279 V Vagabonds, The 393 W Water Mill 271 Western School-Ma'am, The 290 Whistle, The 247 Woman's a Woman for a' That, A : 194 Workingmen's Song 265 PREFACE. In teaching elocution the author has felt the need of a book dif- ferent from what he could secure. Many good books on theory are to be found. Choice selections are abundant. But to secure a book that contained proper exercises for drills, and also a variety of popular selections, is impossible. In order to select fifteen or twenty selections for a reading class, or an elocutionary contest, many books would have to be used, To meet this want this vol- ume has been prepared. In Part I. the author has given what he considers the best way to teach beginners how to read. Part II. gives a full discussion of Dictionary work. Part III. contains hints and suggestions to teachers of Beading. Part IV. is a full discussion of the elements of Elocution. Part V. contains the most popular selections now in use. Among them the entire programme of most of the popu- lar elocutionists and readers can be found. The author has col- lected all grades and sentiments of recitations — Humorous, Dra- matic, Oratorical, and Didactic. The author desires to make grateful acknowledgments for the assistance he has received. Prof. V. A. Pinkley prepared all of Part IV., and is entirely responsible for the same. This part is a condensed elocution, and it will certainly do much to elevate the art of elocution. Prof. Warren McBroom, of Crawfordsville, Ind., prepared the chapter on Elementary Sounds. The article^ How to Teach Beading, was prepared by S. E. Thomas, President of Kentucky University, Paducah, Ky. That this book may aid teachers in their work is the sincere hope of the author. J. VINCENT COOMBS. (1) INTRODUCTION. Elocution is the expression of thought by word and action. In order to become a gOod reader three things are necessary : A good VOICE, A CORRECT PRONUNCIATION, A FORCIBLE EXPRESSION,, To obtain a forcible voice is not difficult. Some say : " My voice is too feeble ; I can never become a speaker." Should they lie in the shade one year without exercise or sunshine, they would have feeble muscles. Practice will give any one a voice of sufficient force to be heard clearly in any hall in the land. Go to work at once and acquire a good voice. Put the voice to its severest test. In balmy weather, go out in the groves and practice on a high key. Then on a low' key. Do not be alarmed should you get hoarse the first time. Try again. If a person has not been accustomed to walking, the first few hours' walk will greatly fatigue him. But let him practice walking each day and he will become accustomed to it. Occasionally the race-horse is put to his severest test. So the voice must occasionally be tested. This will give the voice flexibility and ease. The greater part of practice should be on a conversational key, but occasional practice in shouting tones will develop the voice rapidly. Many speakers find their voices harsh and uncontrollable at the beginning of an address, but at the close the voice is in " fine condition." Much annoyance may be avoided by practicing on different pitches of the voice for a half hour. The practice may be severe. Begin lightly and increase to shouting tones. The last part of the practice should also be moderate. This should be done one or two hours before the time for delivering the address. To break up bad articulation practice with the mouth full of pebbles, marbles, or smooth hickory nuts. The author has tried this plan often, and is satisfied that it is worthy attention. Fill (3) 4 . INTRODUCTION. the mouth full and attempt to read one or two pages. Then remove the pebbles and read a few pages. The organs of speech will now be as " sportive as the swallow and as versatile as the stream let." Let public speakers who are annoyed with indistinct articulation try this plan. A correct pronunciation is a necessary element to good reading. Often an uncouth pronunciation ruins the effect of an entire ad- dress. Speakers should carefully guard against vulgar pronuncia* tions. This subject is fully discussed in Part II. A vivid expression is necessary. Thought is antecedent to everything. First get the thought. Expression is giving out. Many persons attempt to give out before they have anything to give out. Before reading a selection ask yourself the following ques- tions : 1. Who wrote this selection? 2. Why did he write it? 3. Under what surroundings did he write it? 4. Whit would be the condition of the mind of a person who would write such a selection? 5. How would he express it? 6. How would I feel under similar surroundings ? 7. How would I express that feeling were I under similar sur- roundings? It is not enough to tell a person to read naturally. Suppose a man has walked in a stooped condition for ten years, and you tell him when he goes before an audience that he must stand up straight and be naturaL He would certainly assume a very awk- ward and unnatural attitude. Before he can give your idea of naturalness you must elevate the creature. He must practice standing straight behind the counter, in the parlor, and walk straight upon the street. If a person never laughed it would be impossible to teach him elocutionarily how to laugh. On the con- trary, you would be compelled to place the person in cheerful so- ciety, and first have him laugh from the heart. To be natural is to be what you are. If you are not a model in naturalness you must elevate the creature. PART I. HOW TO TEACH A CHILD TO READ. Close observers conclude that the surest way to se- cure a nation of temperance people is to educate the children in the habits of sobriety. Neglected home training necessitates temperance laws. So the best way to secure good readers is to begin correctly in the pri- mary school. Bad teaching in primary grades neces- sitates elocutionists. The chief work of the elocution- ist is to undo what the primary teacher has done ; to right what has been thus made wrong. The child comes into the school room heralding the mastery of its first day^s journey with that ringing laugh and sportive speech that challenge the admira- tion of the most gifted orator or polished elocutionist. The teacher makes rapid haste to destroy this natural sweetness of expression. In a few days this sportive expression is changed to a drawling school style. Ten years pass. The elocutionist comes forward to reap a rich harvest from the bad teaching in the pri- mary department. The child has learned to talk well. One thing I would impress upon the teacher ; let the child continue to talk well ; let the silvery speech heard on the play-ground be heard in the reading class. The teacher who can not teach reading can not teach (5) G NORMAL READER. school, for reading is the key to knowledge. Most A the failures in reading can be traced to the bad teach- ing of primary and intermediate teach< ra When the child gets thought by the eye {written words), it should express the sentiment in the Bame easy manner that it does when it gets the thought through the car. I would have the teacher to remem- ber, and to keep on remembering, that the eye is as quick to know a \\<»rd as 18 the car, and if properly trained the child wall comprehend the word cat just as quickly by seeing it as by bearing it. LANG1 AGE. Learning to Talk — The child learn- to talk before it fa sent to school. Its parents are its teachers. Happy is the child whose parent-teachers instruct it correctly! The child'- first Lesson in language Is learning to talk. It hears words used and learns them by imitation and association. J low a Child Learns to Talk. — We have numerous methods of teaching children to read, hut mothers do not meet in state associations and discuss the best meth- ods of teaching the child to talk. Common sense guides the mother. She certainly does her work well. She does not begin by teaching the child the elementary sounds of the language, neither does she begin with an entire sentence. How ludicrous it would be to see a mother attentively teaching the child the sounds of the word papa. Common sense tells her that the child first acquires ideas (words), then relations (sentences). The child learns the word as a whole. After it has learned a few object-words, papa, hat, book, cat, bed, etc., it begins to learn relations. It does not learn the spoken word cat by hearing it. It must see the object. You might repeat the word cat a thousand times, yet the child gets no idea. But say cat, and point to the cat, and the child will, in its baby way, say " catty." HOW TO TEACH A CHILD TO READ, 7 It gets the idea by association. It associates the spo- ken word cat- with the real object. After a few words have been learned the child begins to acquire thought. The mother says, "the cat is on the bed/' The child sees the position of the cat and at once says, "cat on bed." Purely by hearing the words and seeing the re- lations it learns the sentence, No mother teaches a child such words as is, here, the. The child learns these in the sentence and by imitation. Learning to Bead. — After the child has learned to talk fluently and acquired a vocabulary of spoken words, it may take a second lesson in language, learning to read. This work should not begin too early in life. It is not wise to begin teaching a child to read until it has ac- quired much knowledge of objects and relations of ob- jects. Children are greatly iujured in being sent to school too early. The questions that now confront us are : How shall we begin ? What method shall we adopt ? Let me say right here, that the proper place to begin is where the mother left off. No new way is necessary. Let us here recapitulate : In learning to talk the child acquires knowledge, as follows: 1. It learns ideas, the words as wholes. 2. Relations of words. 3. It associates the spoken word with the idea. 4. The child forms these words into sentences and has thoughts. In talkiug, the child has learned words by hearing; now it is to learn by seeing. The child should not be permitted to read a sentence until it recognizes the writ- ten word by seeing it just as perfectly as it does the spoken word by hearing it. In one case the word is heard ; in the other it is seen. In teaching a child to read, there should be the slightest change possible from the general method of learning to talk. If we follow out this plan there will not be much dispute about methods. Methods. — There are several methods of teaching a 8 NORMAL READER. child to read. Those most generally used are as fol- lows: 1. Alphabeticc 2. Phonic. 3. Sentence, 4. "Word Method. 1. Alphabetic. — The alphabetic method begins by teaching the child the letters. The child repeats the letters from A to Z, and from Z to A, This method is objectionable ; it is in opposition to the plan used in learning to talk. Letters are fractions of words, and we should not begin with fractions. It would be just as sensible to begin the study of arithmetic at fractions. The word is the unit of language. 2. Phonic Method. — The phonic method begins with the sound of the letters. This certainly is the correct way to learn pronunciation, but it is not the way to learn to read. The child learns to talk without think- ing of the elements of the word. It should learn to read in the same way. It would be as reasonable for the mother to begin to teach the child to talk by first giving it a lesson in the elementary sounds of the lan- guage as to begin teaching reading in that manner. 3. Sentence Method. — The sentence method be- gins with the sentence as the unit of language. This is objectionableo It assumes that the sentence is the unit of language. Certainly the word is the unit. We should begin with units, and not with their combina- tion. 4. Word Method. — The word method is the true method, for the following reasons : 1. It coincides with the manner of learning to talk. The child first learns the word as a whole. You do not teach the child that this is a leg, this a head, this a foot, this a tail, and after learning all its parts say " these things make a cat." No ! You teach the word cat as a whole. 2. Language begins with words, and not letters or sentences. 3. This method proceeds from the known to the un- HOW TO TEACH A CHILD TO READ. 9 known. We begin with the spoken word and pass to the written. 4. It passes from the whole to the part analytically. Learning a Vocabulary of Printed Words. — -Learning to read is learning a vocabulary of words. The ques- tion is, what is the best way to learn a vocabulary of words ? It is plain common sense to continue as in learning to talk, by presenting the object to the eye of the child. The word must be learned as a whole. What words should be taught first? 1. Familiar Spoken Words. — The child has ac- quired a vocabulary of spoken words, and these words should be the first to be presented. Meaningless words, ba, be, bi, etc., should be discarded. 2. Object Words. — The first words taught should be the names of objects. Manner of Teaching a Vocabulary. — The teacher holds up a hat and says : " What is this ?" The correct an- swer follows. Here a few words may be said to create an interest. The teacher now draws the picture of the hat on the board and continues: " What is this?" All will say, "That is a hat." Well enough. Do not worry the patience of pupils in making an elaborate explanation, showing the difference between a real hat and the picture of the hat. The child knows the dif- ference. Ideas are what you are after now. Once tell- ing a child is sufficient. With chalk in hand the teacher says : " Now, you watch me and I will make the word hat. This word here on the board is the word hat. When you see this (referring to the object hat) you think of what?" " We think of a hat." " When you^ see this picture, you think of what?" "We think of a hat also." " Yes, that is correct. Well, now, when you see this word you think of what ? " " We think of a hat again." " Yes ; now watch me make the word. Do you think you can make it ? You may try it shortly. Will you know the word hat whenever you see it ? Let 10 NORMAL READER. us see. I will write several words as follows : Cat, man, hat, cap, dog, fan, cap, hat, hat, hat. Who can show me the word hat?" Here let the children notice differences. Most of them will select the correct word. If some point out the wrong word, let the class get into debate about the matter. The teacher continues : " You may now go to your seats, take your slates and see if you can draw that word liat." In the same way teach other words. It is remarkable how rapidly children will learn these words. After ten or twelve words have been learned, the teacher may say : "Now let us have a chalk talk. You bring me what I write on the board." The teacher writes hat, cap, book, fan, and several ob- jects accessible, and different members of the class bring him the objects. After fifteen or twenty words have been />< rfectly learned, words that are not names of ob- jects may be presented. All words that are not names of objects should be learned in plwases and sentences. Never attempt to teach the article the, the adjectives, conjunctions or verbs by themselves, but always teach them in the sentence. The child, in learning to talk, was never taught the, is, run, etc. It simply learned these words by relations. The teacher, holding up a fan, says : " What kind of a fan is this?" "A black fan," is the reply. "Now I will say, with the chalk, what you have said. What does the chalk say ? " "A black fan." " Yes, that is right. I will now change the word. What does the chalk say?" The teacher erases fan, and writes hat. The pupils will then say, 'a black hat. Several words may be substituted instead of fan, leaving A black the same all the time. I said before that after fifteen or twenty words are perfectly learned, the sentence might be introduced. I want to emphasize the word perfectly. The child must learn these object words so well that when it sees the word hat it knows it just as quickly as if you should have spoken the word. There is no reason why the child ought not to get the idea Adjust HOW TO TEACH A CHILD TO BEAD. 11 as quickly by seeing the word as by hearing the word. So see to it, that before the sentence is introduced, the child has learned perfectly fifteen or twenty names of objects. After a few words of quality, black, red, white, etc., have been taught in phrases, lead the child to say, " The hat is black." Here you have introduced one new word. When the child has said the hat is black, write the sentence on the board and continue : " What does the chalk say ? " " The chalk said, < The hat is black.'" Very well. Tell me now what the chalk says : " TJie cat is black. " " What does the chalk say ? " " The cat is black." This exercise may be continued to suit the teacher. Change one word, then the other, leaving is the same all the time. When fifteen or twenty changes have been made, call the child's attention to the new word. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred the child will tell you what the word is. It has learned is in the sentence just as it did in learning to talk. No one taught it. Never let the child stop to call a word. Let the words be thoroughly familiar. The child does not stop to think of the words in the sentence, " The man is in the house," when talk- ing. It must see the sentence as clearly as it hears it. When from one hundred to one hundred and fifty words have been learned, let the teacher say to the children: " To-day we will have a chalk-talk. You may do just what the chalk says. Ready." The teacher, remaining perfectly silent, writes, and the children per- form : " Stand up," "Sit down," "Come here," "Go to your seat," " Lift your right hand," " Put your hand on your head," " On your nose," " Bring me a book." This exercise may be continued at the pleasure of the teacher. Never continue any exercise until it becomes irksome. When the child has learned its little vocabu- lary, write fifteen or twenty words on the board, and permit the child to make sentences. Here the child takes its first lesson in original composition. This is 12 NORMAL ' READER. the proper place to begin composition. Should the teacher write cat, hat, black, tame, is, on, a table, the chair, the, a, runs, etc., the child will quickly learn to form sentences. Never write the articles without the nouns. Let the children tell (read) what they have written on the slate. Allow no drawling. Stop it. THE FIRST READER. When the child has learned from one hundred to one hundred and fifty words perfectly, the First Reader may be introduced. Begin the first reading lesson with a chalk-talk. Teach all new words according to the word method. After all new words (if there be any) are taught, permit the children to copy two or three sen- tences on their Blates. Let them, then read, in a pure conversational manner, these sentences. The reader may now be used. Be sure that the child reads natur- ally. Halting at words should not be tolerated un- der any consideration. If proper care has been taken in teaching the vocabulary of one hundred and fifty words, but few new words will need to be taught, and you will be surprised that the child will read fluently the first twenty pages of the First Reader. Before a lesson is read, have the pupils write it upon slates. Pay special attention to writing, spelling, capi- talization and punctuation. You will see that the Firtar. Did you ever go to a star, mamma? O no, I never went to a star. If I get into the cars, and ride, ever so far, can I get to the star? No, the cars never go to the star. If I had wings, like a bird, I would fly to the star. What? Go so far from mamma? O, but mamma, you would go too." THE CHAIR. " Do you see the chair ? What kind of chair is it? It is an arm-chair. Can the boy sit on the chair ? The chair has four legs and a back. This chair has two arms. We have some chairs like this at home. We can sit on them when we want to rest. You must not cut the chair with your knife. Let the chair stand near the stove." Question pupils upon the lessons. What has Kitty ? What is she doing? W 7 hy does she keep the bird in a cage? Occasionally write a funny little story on the board and let pupils read it. Permit children to copy their lessons. " Teach the child to do : educate the hand." PART II DICTIONARY WORK. PKONUNCIATION. Pronunciation does not receive the attention which its impor- tance demands. Where one mistake in grammar occurs, ten occur in pronunciation. Very few persons can read a page of plain Eng- lish without making numerous errors in pronunciation. Indeed it is a rare thing to listen to a speaker who does not make several mistakes in an address of one hour. Persons who would be deeply mortified to make a mistake in grammar or spelling, go on mispronouncing ordinary words with- out any apparent shame. Correct pronunciation is of more im- portance than correct spelling. One offends the eye, the other the ear. Bad spelling offends the eye that sees the wrong spelling; bad pronunciation offends the ear of an entire audience. Again, pronunciation is in constant use; spelling is occasionally used. An untiring effort should, therefore, be made to break up incorrect pronunciation. CAUSES OF INCORRECT PRONUNCIATION. The causes of incorrect pronunciation are three : Carelessness, Laziness, Ignorance, and the greatest of these three is Ignorance. Carelessness. — Many persons are careless in their pronunciation. They go treading the road their fathers have trod. They say idea, grass, root, c6st, etc., without one thought as to the correctness of the pronunciation. 2 (17) 18 NORMAL READER. Laziness. — Many persons are simply too confirmed lazy to consult the dictionary. For months they have been halting between two opinions, not sure that either is correct. Every time the word is met it is shunned or half pronounced. Yet there is the diction- ary, and these lazy people have not the energy to walk to the desk. Ignorance. — Ignorance is a prolific cause of incorrect pronuncia- tion. Many persons do not know what the correct pronunciation of a word is. They can not distinguish between sounds. Once a Boston lady came in a reading circle of which I was a member. I was much amused at her peculiar pronuncia- tion. She said to the manager of the circle : " What is the differ- ence in pronunciation between iarfii, and for fdf " She pronounced them both alike, leaving off an r on both. I laughed at her and thought she was silly. The next day I was leading the reading and pronounced bird, bunl, and the " Boston girls" laughed at me. It was purely ignorance on my part. I did not know there was ny difference in sound between fir and fur, earn and urn. Some persons make no distinction between a in fame and k in care and fair. Others pronounce caret a and short a just alike. Should hey realize that caret a is diphthongal the difficulty would be re- moved. In the old English fair was spelled with two syllables, fa-Ir, and pronounced as marked, long a, and tilde I, or short u. These sounds were finally coalesced but still retain the diph- thongal sound. Long u suffers shamefully. We say tootor, for tutor; dooty, for duty; nooze, for news,— nuz; constitootion, in- stitoote, etc. Tooter is a fellow that blows a horn. If n-e-w-s spells nooze, why does not p-e-w-s spell pooze? Broad a is greatly neglected either through nicety or ignorance. Br6d for broad ; c6ll for call. We have no more naughty boys but tie them up to (k)n6tty boys; no more daughters, but we reduce them to dfttters. Let us have a race of broad a's. Much of this is affectation. Some go to the other extreme, and give broad a in many words where Italian a is needed. The writer once heard a normal girl say, "I laughed and I laughed, and I nearly died a 'laughin.'" To destroy these unpleasant pronunciations let pupils be thor- oughly drilled upon the elementary sounds. DICTIONAEY WOEK. 19 KEY TO PRONUNCIATION. VOWELS. a, as in ate. e, as in there. a, " at. §, " they. a, far. i, ice. a, " call. i, " it. a, " ask. I, " sir. a, " care. i, " pique a, " was. o, " no. e, " me. o, 11 not. e, " met. 6, " for. e, " term. Q, " do. CONSONANTS. c, as in call. g. as in get. 9. ' cite. g. " gem. ch, • child. s, " so. ch, " chorus. §> " has. §h, ' chaise. th, " with 6, as in son. 9. " wolf. do, " moon. do, " brook % duty. % " tub. u, " rude. u, 11 urge. u, " put. th, as in withe. ng, sing, link. ?. exist. x, « ax. The teacher will find that the above table contains all the dia- critical marks. Drill pupils thoroughly upon these sounds. Pro- nounce the word, then give the sound. Teach carefully all the sounds not in the table. Teach by imitation the consonants. Show the class how to produce the sound of b, c, t, etc. Follow up the alphabet, and give every consonant sound. Teach the names of the diacritical marks. NAMES Macron. •• Diaeresis. Breve. ~ Tilde. Caret. , Cidilla. Semi-diaeresis. -•-Suspended b It is not enough to drill upon the tables. The class must be made to see the difference between sounds. 1. a, a, and a. Pupils must see the difference between these sounds. Spell many words phonically, as follows : Pronounce bat slowly, b-a-t. Drop b ? at. Drop t, a. Drill on the following : Mate, mat, care, fair, fame, map, dare, day, rat, pay-er, pan, fan. 20 NORMAL READER. 2. 6, 6. Alternate sounds as follows : Bot, bought, cost, cause, farm, f6r. 3. 6 and ii. Far, for, or, lire, form, farm. 4. 6, a. Cdt, caught, n&t, naught, knotty, naughty, dtftter, daugh, ter, 6n, awe. 5. u and u (oo) rue, pure, rule, use, duty, ruby, new (nu, rude. 6. oo and do, moon, look, book, roof. EXERCISES IN PHONICS. The teacher will do well at this time to refer to the chapter on elementary sounds, prepared by Prof. Warren McBroom. Spell several words by sounds. When pupils can give the elementary sounds readily, begin work on diacritical marking. Pronounce ten or fifteen common words and request the pupils to mark them correctly. Mark vowels and consonants. 1. Bat. 2. Can. 3. air. 4. tue. 5. game 6. Form. 7. prove. 8. n6t. 9. his. 0. £Ite. This will be sufficient for one lesson. Next lesson give atten- tion to silent letters. Mark words diacritically and cross out all silent letters. 1. Fame. 4. Roar. 2. knife. 5. often. 3. adieu. 6. coal. After a few lessons similar to the above have been given, it will be well to have a lesson in written phonic spelling. PHONIC SPELLING. Write no representative sounds. To illustrate : Should the pu- pil make rue ru it would be incorrect, for u represents oo. So write oo, roo. 1. Cat = Kat. 6. Phthisic = tizik. 2. advertise = advertiz. 7. new = nu. 3. knowledge = nol-dj. 8. cal-i-co = kal-i-ko. 4. his = hiz. 9. they = tha. 5. beau = bo. 10. Said = sed. DICTIONARY WORK. 21 The teacher will now be prepared to show the class the import- ance of Dictionary Work. Write the word bat on the board and ask, "How many pronunciations can you give this word?" Some will guess one number, some another. Put the matter to test. Write the word several times, asking the class to pronounce as you mark. Bat, bat, bat, bat, bat, bat, bat. The class will see at once that the word has as many pronunciations as the letter a has sounds, which is seven. Ask how many pronunciations can be given to the word me. Mark the word five times. Continue as follows: "How many sounds has cat?" Some will say seven, others eight. Put it to test : Hard C — Cat, cat, cat, cat. cat, cat, cat = 7 £at, fat, cat, fat, fat, fat, fat = 7 14 The class will then see that the word has been written 14 times, and that every word has a different pronunciation ; hence the word cat can have 14 pronunciations* For amusement, to incite interest and to show the wonders of English pronunciations, introduce words of two and more syllables. Take the word fatal. Some will say that you can give it 7 sounds, some 14, still others will say 28. Try it. 1. Fatal, fatal fatal, fatal, fatal, fatal, fatal=7 with long a in first syl- lable. 2. a in the first syllable will give 7 more. 3. a u it it « it a 7 i' 4. a tt a (I a tt a 7 a 5, a u (i (I tt tt a 7 it 6. a it a a a tt a 7 it 7. a ti tt u a tt a 7 " Total 49. You will see then that we have 49 words all differently pro- nounced, all accented on the first syllable ; change the accent to the last syllable and we have 49 more, which added to the first list we have 49 + 49 = 98, the number of pronunciations that can ac- tually be given to the word fatal. While curiosity is on tip-toe derive a rule by which the number of pronunciations in any word may be found. RULE. Multiply all the vowel sounds together, multiply this result by the number of sounds any consonant may have, and this by the 22 NORMAL READER. number of syllables. If only one syllable, the product will not be changed by multiplying by 1. If a consonant has only one sound no multiplication is necessary. 7X7X2 accent. 1. Papal = 98. 7X2 sounds of s. 2. has = 14. 2X6X2=24. 3. Cos = 24. 2X7X2X6X2. 4. Cargo = 336 pronunciations. 7X2X2X7X3X5X2X5X5X4. 5. Massachusetts = 588,000. So if the pupil did not know something about pronunciation he might guess 587,000 times, and still be wrong. ELEMENTARY SOUNDS, WITH DIAGRAMS AND VOCAL DRILLS. BY J. WARREN M'BROOM. A knowledge of the Elementary Sounds of our language is of much importance to the student of Reading and Elocution. An Elementary Sound is one that can not be analyzed into two or more distinct sounds, just as an elementary substance is one that can not be analyzed into two or more distinct substances. Examples. — The sound known as long e is an elementary sound, just as carbon is an elementary substance. The sound known as long i is not an elementary sound, because it may be analyzed into Ital- ian a and long e, just as water is not an elementary substance, it may be analyzed into oxygen and hydrogen. The Elementary Sounds of the English language are forty in number. Other languages contain a few sounds not heard in Eng- lish, as the French u and the German ch. Elementary Sounds are divided into two classes, Vowels and Consonants. The two classes are very different from each other, both in their mode of formation and in their relation to words. The Consonants form the skeleton, the framework of words, and DICTIONARY WORK. 23 give to them strength and energy. The Vowels are the muscle and tissue of words and give to them individuality. ThQ conso- nants brd form the common framework of bread, broad, bird, bride, bared, bard, beard and board. It is the vowels that make them different words. THE VOWELS. The elementary vowel sounds are sixteen in number. Each vowel has its own position of the vocal organs, just as each tone has its own position on the key -board of the piano. The diagram is designed to represent a section of the mouth. When the vocal current passes forward after leaving the vocal cords (where it is set into vibration) until it strikes the roof of the mouth just at the gums of the upper teeth, the sound of long e is produced. With the position of the vocal organs giving this direction to the vocal current this sound will always be produced, and no other vowel sound can be produced. But if the angle of direction be slightly changed so that the vo- cal current shall impinge a little farther back in the mouth, short is produced. The angle is changed by dropping slightly the ^ower jaw, by the action of the tongue, by the rounding of the lips, antil we have in succession short e, long a, caret a (heard in air), 24 NORMAL READER. short Italian a (as in mask), Italian a, short broad a (as in what) broad a, long o, long double o, Bhort double o, tilde i (as in tin, caret u (as in hurt), and, lastly, right up out of the throat, the guttural, short u. And these are all the elementary vowel sounds heard in our language. Lonu r i 18 not found in the diagram, but draw a line from Italian a to long e (like a tie in music), and pass connectedly from one sound to the other, and a deep, rich, long i is produced. Passing in the same way from short a to short i and a flat, thin, long i is produced. In the Bame way pass from long e to long double o. Note the result Pass from broad a to short i. From Italian a to long double o. Notice also that in giving any one sound in the diagram the vo- cal organs hold one position. But no one can give long i or long u without passing from one position of the vocal organs to another. Try it and see. This i- because they are not elementary sounds, jut really diphthongs. Caret a may, also, be considered a diph- thong;. Before taking up the subject of diphthongs it is best to explain the vowel substitutes. For the same elementary sound may be represented by two or three different letters. Long e (e) has two substitutes ; i, pique; ay, quay. Short i (I) has five substitutes ; y, hymn ; e, England ; u, busy ; o, women ; ee, been. Short e (e) has three substitutes ; ay, says ; ai, said ; u, bury. Long a (a) has two substitutes; ei, feint; ey, tiny. Short a (&) has no substitute. Caret a (a) has two substitutes; e, there; ei, their. Short and long Italian a (a, ii) have no substitute. Short broad a (a) has one substitute; o, not. Broad a (a) has one substitute; 6, nor. Long o (6) has two substitutes; eau, beau ; ew, sew. Long double o (oo) has two substitutes ; o, do ; u, true. Short double o (do) has two substitutes; o, wolf ; u, pull. Tilde i (I) has one substitute; e, term. Caret u (u) has one substitute ; o, word. Short u (ii) has one substitute; 6, love. (In studying the above let the diacritical marks be fixed in mind. It will assist the mind to note that the caret ( A ) is associated with the sound that a vowel has when r follows, as care, there, or, fur. The same is true of the tilde (~) fir, her.) DICTIONARY WORK. 25 DIPHTHONGS. The word diphthong is from two Greek words that, united, mean a double sound. Two elementary sounds uttered in a single im- pulse of the voice constitute a diphthong. In English words rive diphthongs may be recognized : a — e = i, as in pine. e -j- oo = u, as in tube. I +00 = ew, as in new. a -j- oo = Su or ow, as in house, cow. a — I = 61 or 6y, as in boil, boy. Note. — It may be objected that long e and long double o do not give us long u. They do not exactly. This is because long e is not an exact equivalent for the consonant y, but it is very nearly. So also long double o is almost identical with the consonant w. Phonetically, e-o-n is very nearly yon, and oo-a-n is very nearly wan. But e-e is not ye, and oo-oo is not woo. It would seem that the consonants y and w are the connecting links between the vowels and the consonants. the consonants. If we consider the organs employed in their utterance, the con- sonants maybe arranged naturally into four classes; the Labials, or lip sounds, the Lingua-dentals, or tongue-tooth sounds, the Lingua-palatals, or tongue-palate sounds, and the Gutturals, or throat sounds. Again, some consonants are mere whisperings, as the sound of p. Some are obstructed tones, or undertones, as the sound of d. From this fact as a basis of classification we have all consonants divided into Aspirates, or whispered sounds, and Sub-vocals, or undertones. Let it be noticed that most Aspirates have a corres- ponding Sub-vocal, as the Aspirate p, and the Sub-vocal b, the Aspirate f, and the Sub-vocal v. Consonants are classified from still another point of view. Some consonants may be prolonged, as the sounds of f and s; but others can not be prolonged, as t and k. They are touch and go, like the explosion of gunpowder. Hence, consonants are divided into Ex- plosives and Continuants. By some authors the Explosives are called Mutes, and the Continuants, Semi-vowels. The following table shows clearly the three-fold classification of 26 NORMAL READER. consonants, and should be placed on the board for vocal drill on the consonant sounds. Let the leader first follow the horizontal lines till all the sounds can be given accurately and readily, then let him follow the vertical lines. Every pupil should become able to reproduce this table from memory. TABLE OF CONSONANTS. Labi- sis. Lingua- dentals. Lingua- palatals. Palatals or Gutturals. Explosives or (8)« Mutes. i ' Aspirates. P t ch k , Sub-vocals. b d J g ' Aspirates. f th, 8 sh h Continuants or (16)- Semi-vowels. Sub-vocals. V th, z zh Sub-vocals. m n 1 r °g Sub-vocals. w y Sometimes two letters are used to represent a single elementary sound, as ch, th, zh, etc. A list of consonant substitutes is important also; ch has one substitute ; ti, question ; k has three substitutes ; c, can ; ch, chorus, and q, quick; j has two substitutes ; g, gem; di, soldier; f has two substitutes ; gh, tough ; ph, Philip. S has two substitutes; 9, city; z, quartz. Sh has six substitutes ; ce, ocean ; ci, gracious ; si, losion ; ti, potion ; ch, chaise ; s, sugar. V has two substitutes; f, of; ph, Stephen. Z has three substitutes; c, sacrifice; s, hers; x, Xerxes. Zh is a combination of letters never met with; but the sound of zh is represented by n in fusion ; by zi in brazier ; by 2 in azure, and by s in rasure. Ng has one substitute ; n before most palatals, as in ink, uncle, conquer. W has one substitute ; u in quick ; it is understood before o in one. Y has one substitute ; i in onion. For valuable drill in vocal culture and phonic spelling, place the following diagram on the board. Let the leader of the exer- DICTIONARY WORK. 27 cise point to any consonant on the circumference, then to the vowel at the center, then to any other consonant, the class giving in concert the sounds to which the leader points, and then pronounc- ing the word spelled. Spell each word twice, A great number of words may be formed thus, and the number may be multiplied by changing the vowel at the center. It is not necessary that all the consonants be used in any one diagram. It is best that some be omitted. So also in placing the vowel diagram on the board for vocal drill, it is best to omit those sounds that are very similar to other sounds, such as caret a, short Italian a, short broad a, and tilde i. These finer distinctions con- fuse beginners. PEINCIPLES OF PBONUNCIATION. Pronunciation consists of two things : Articulation and accent. Articulation is the correct utterance of the elementary sounds. 28 NORMAL READER. (1). a, e, 6 and u are always followed by r. Examples. — Care, fare, parent, there, their, fur, dr, form, urn. (2). u (o3) is never heard unless it is preceded by the sound of r, sh, or zh. Sure is not an exception to this rule ; for the sound sh is heard. Susan seems to be an exception. (3). u is a diphthong. When it begins a syllable it is equivalent to y + do. When preceded by a consonant it is equivalent toe + 6o. There are a few words in which the u is difficult to utter, and will likely become u (do). Examples. — Blue, lute, flute. Blue is difficult, bloo is not. Pronounce rue, rule, fruit, dupe, dude, duty, constitution, tutor, student. (4). u has no equivalent. It differs from e and I. U is a gut- tural sound. Pronounce earn, urn, fir, fur, dirge, verge. (5.) A constitutingor ending an unaccented syllable has a brief sound of a. Exception, A is long when followed by a vowel or diphthong, as chaotic. Pronounce America, alas, Anna, Indiana, aorta. (6.) E and O constitutingor ending a syllable is long. In the accented syllable the quantity is longer than in the unaccented. Ex- amples. — Memorial, event, the-sis, notorious, society. (7.) E is silent before n. Given, token. (8.) C is soft before e, i and y and hard in other cases. Pro- nounce caret, cite, cider, celebrate, cot, cynic. (9.) G is generally soft before e, l and y and hard in other cases. (10.) X followed by an accented vowel or h has the sound of gz. When it begins a word it has the sound of z. In other posi- tions it has the sound of ks. (11.) Q standing alone has no sound. (12.) Ai when accented has the sound of a ; when not accented it has the sound of short i. Examples. — Aid, remain, fountain (in), captain, mountain. ACCENT, Accent is a stress of voice upon a syllable of a word. Accent is of two kinds, primary and secondary. The primary accent is the stronger. Primary accent is marked with a heavy stroke, the secondary with a lighter stroke. Examples. — Legislature, Av'a- lanche'. Let pupils accent clearly the following words : Inquiry, ac- cented, coquetry, artificer, complex, idea, execrable, pyramidal. DICTIONARY WORK. 29 My first lessons in elocution were received from Prof. J. I. Hop- kins. He gave special attention to accent, and the benefits of those lessons are highly valued. To break up difficult accents he would cause the class to accent forcibly all the syllables of a word, then return to the proper accent and give the pronunciation several times. I have found this simple exercise sufficient to correct any incorrect accent. Illustration. — Personification, personification, personification, personification, personification, personification''. Now pronounce the word several times with the proper accent per- sonification. Take execrable and begin as follows : Execrable', execrable, execrable, execrable. In same manner pronounce peculiarity, congratulation; emphatically, octogenarian. HINTS TO TEACHERS. It is one thing to say that there are forty elementary sounds, and quite another thing to show by actual work that there are forty. Ask the class what is meant by saying forty elementary sounds. The probability is that the class will not have any definite mean- ing. Place a table of sounds on the board. Let this table con- tain all the vowels and consonants and number of sounds that each has. Then begin to erase or cross out all equivalents. ILLUSTKATION. CONSONANTS. 1. becdfgghjklmnpqrss soft tvwxxyz = 25. VOWELS. a3,aaaaae8eeeIIIio66oo 6 oo 6o u ti. u (oo) u u = 29. Now ask the class the number of sounds, and you will likely get the answer, 54. Eewrite and cut out all equivalents. b (c hard = k, 9 = s) d f g (g soft = j) j k 1 m n p (q has no sound) r s (g = z) t u v w (x = ks, 5 = gz) y z = 18. a & a a a a (short broad a = 6) e 6 e (e = a, e = a) (1 = a -j- 1) x (I = e, i = e) 6 6 (6 — a) (o = 00) (6 same 30 NORMAL READER. as il) (o as in wolf = 06) 60 06 | u = y -4- 60) u (u as iu rue =■ 60) u (u as in put =06) = 16 vowel sounds. This, now, gives 18 consonants and 16 vowels, or 34 in all. Let children find out other BOUnde if possible. DOUBLE CONSONANTS. ch, as in child, Dg, th, th, sh and zh = 6. Add this to 34 and we have 40, the number of elementary sounds in the English language. Some interest may be created by asking pupils to try to make other Bounds. 2. Drill often on the exercises in articulation. 3. Have pronouncing matches. Pass over to the chapter on Words often Mispronounced, or to Test Words in Pronunciation. Request two pupils to arise and pronounce alternately. When one makes a mistake let the other try it. If he be successful an- other comes forward to contest. One person may pronounce down several contestants. EXERCISES IN ARTICULATION. Sex, sects. folds, molds. rob'dst, prob'dst. Sense, cents. obed, robed. barbst, warmst. Tense, tents. fast, vast. curvedst, loveth. False, faults. whit, wit. settleth, remaineth. Taps, sips. twelve, twelfths. Ba, be bi bo bu boo boi. Da de dl d6 du dob doi. ba-pa I be-pe I bi-pi I bo-po I bu-pu I boo-poo I boi-poi. fa-va I fe-ve | fi-vi | f6-v6 | fu-vu | fob-vob | foi-voi. Ceaseth, approacheth, rejoiceth, ceaseth, Approacheth, rejoiceth, ceaseth, approacheth, Rejoiceth, ceaseth, approacheth, rejoiceth. 1. Six brave maids sat on six broad beds braiding broad braids. 2. The rain ceaseth. 3. I saw a saw that could outsaw any saw that I ever saw saw. 4. L T p the high hill he heaved a huge round stone. DICTIONARY WORK. 31 5. The listlessness and laziness of the government. 6. He thrusts his fists against the posts. And still insists he sees the ghosts. 7. Socks and shoes shock Susan. 8. I said sex, not sects. 9. Eight great gray geese gazing gayly into Greece. 10. Bring me some ice every hour. 11. Five wise wives weave withered withes. 12. She sells sea-shells ; shall she sell sea-shells ? 13. A big black bug bit a big black bear. 14. Bound the rude ring the ragged rascals ran. 15. Execrable Xantippe exhibited extraordinary and excessive irritability, 16. Thrice six thick thistle sticks thrust straight through three throbbing thrushes. 17. Prithee, blithe youth, do not mouth your words when you wreathe your face with smiles. 18. He rules with regal reign. 19. He sawed six long, slim, sleek, slender saplings- 20. Whelply Whewell White was a whimsical, whining, whis- pering, whittling, whistler. 21. Some shun sun-shine. Do you shun sun-shine ? 22. I said, " a knap-sack strap," not a " knap-sack's strap." 23. Henry Hingham has hung his harp on the hook where he hitherto hung his hope. 24. Gibeon Gordon Grelglow, the great Greek grammarian, graduated at Grilgrove College. ' 25. Did you say you saw the spirit sigh, or the spirit's eye, or the spirit's sigh ? I said I saw the spirit's eye, not the spirit sigh, nor the spirit's sigh. 26. 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 Thistle, 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. 27. Seeing Sam she stopped starching and saluted Sam smilingly. Sam stammered shockingly : " Sp-sp-splendid summer season, 32 NORMAL READER. Sophia." "Somewhat sultry," suggested Sophia. " Sar-sartin, Sophia," said Sam. (Silence seventeen seconds.) "Selling .-ad- dles still, Sam?" u Sar-sar-sartin," said Sam, starting suddenly. "Season's somewhat soporific," said Sam, stealthily staunching streaming sweat, shaking sensibly. " Sartin," said Sophia, Mail- ing significantly. " Sip some sweet sherbet, Sam ? " (Silence sixty seconds.) "Sire shot sixty shel-drakes, Saturday," said Sophia. " Sixty ? sho ! " said Sam. (Silence seventy-seven seconds.) " See sister Susan's sunflowers," said Sophia, sociably scattering such Btiff silence. Sophia's sprightly sauciness stimulated Sam strangely; so Sam suddenly spoke sentimentally : " Sophia, Susan's sunflow- ers seem saying, 'Samuel Short and Sophia Sophronia Bpriggs, stroll serenely and seek some sequestered spot, some sylvan shade. Some sparkling spring shall sing soul-soothing strains ; sweet song- sters shall silence secret sighing; super-angelic sylphs shall '" Sophia snickered ; BO Sam stopped. " Sophia," said Sam, solemnly. "Sam," said Sophia. "Sophia, stop smiling. Sam Short's sin- cere. Sam's seeking some sweet spouse, Sophia. Speak, Sophia, speak ! Such suspense speeds sorrow." " Seek sire, Sam, seek sire." So Sam sought sire Spriggs. Sire Spriggs said, " Sartin." Seven short Sabbaths later saw Sophia Sophronia Spriggs the smiling spouse of Simon Short's son Samuel. WORDS OFTEN MISPRONOUNCED. 1. Accepted, acclimate, accost, advertise, alibi, acorn, almoner, aeronaut, alms, alternate, analogous, Arab, aroma, aft, arrow, ap- palachian, allopathy, adult, area. 2. Bastile, behemoth, beneficent, Belial, biography, bomb, bra- vado, Burgundy, bot, bought, bronchitis, bouquet. 3. Calf, calliope, calm, Caucasian, chastisement, communist, consummate, concise, critique, contumely, coquetry, crochet, cost, courtesy, camelopard. 4. Dahlia, Danish, deficit, defalcate, dew, due, diphthong, dis- arm, dolorous, debut. 5. Eclat, epizootic, European, eyry, exponent. 6. Finance, frankincense, franchise. 7. Geyser, gallows. 8. Haughty, herculean, hymeneal, half, horizon. 9. Idea, illustrate, inquiry, institute, isothermal, implacable, industry. DICTION AEY WOEK. 33 10. Jocose. 11. Lamentable, laths, leisure, lien. 12. Magazine, maniacal, mirage, misanthropy, months, mouths, mercantile. 13. National, nomenclature. 14. Or, on, orgies, orison, often, ogle, oaths, opponent, ought. 15. Pageant, Palestine, palm, panorama, parquet, pedagogy, Persian, Philistine, piquant, plateau. 16. Quadrupedal, quaggy, quagmire. 17. Radish, raillery, reparable, rinse, roof, root, routine. 18. Sacrifice, salient, seine, sew, shire, shrub, sleek, slough (a scab), slough (mud hole), snout, soft, sough, strata, subtle, subtile. 19. Uranus, usurp. 20. Vagary. 21. Were, wife's, wreaths. 22. Xenophon. 23. Yea, your. 24. Zoology. FIFTY-FOUE TEST WORDS. 1. Are 1. Aunt 1. Fir 2. area 2. on 2. fur 3. accented 3. tilde 3. earn 4. all 4. precise 4. urn 5. aye 5. daughter 5. caught 6. for 6. Danish 6. cot 7. far 7. bomb 7. grass 8. lost 8. bouquet 8. coquetry 9. ally 9. courtesy 9. Appalachian 10. spirit 10. geyser 10. allopathy 11. baths 11. exponent 11. indisputable. 12. truths 12. opponent 12. homoeopathy 13. dupe 13. Persia 13. acclimate 14. inquiry 14. bronchitis 14. communist 15. horizon 15. museum 15. epizootic 16. finance 16. national 16. pyramidal 17. zoology 17. impious 17. illustrate 18. isothermal 18. vehemence 18. contumely. PART III HOW TO TEACH READING BY S. E. THOMAS, Presid> I ' eaA, Ky. The key to all learning is study. That method which causes the pupil to study what he reads is surely the true one. The mere calling of words advances the stu- dent but little. Class reading, where each pupil reads a different verse, has many serious defects and but few advantages. Many times there is no complete thought in a single verse. When the pupil reads such a verse he is compelled to do it in a machine-like way; he has no mental picture, and hence there is nothing to in- spire him to make an effort. He soon has the idea that calling words is reading, and he further believes that the one who can call all the words in a verse the quick- est is the best reader. This kind of reading makes parrots and not thinkers. The teacher, by questioning his pupils, may bring out the thought of the selection, but that thought is naked and cold. There is but little in this plan to stimulate the pupil to secure the thought for himself, but merely (34) HOW TO TEACH READING. 35 for recitation. The grand object of a teachers work is to make the pupil think for himself. There must be something about teaching- reading that will make the pupil give careful attention to every word and sentence in his selection. In the study of words he must be constantly searching the dictionary for pronunciation and meaning. It is not. or should not be expected that the teacher is to pronounce every word on which the pupil may stumble. If he doe-, he takes self-reliance away from his pupils, and they resort to him for help under all circumstances. In teaching primary reading, the teacher is com- pelled to assist his pupils in pronouncing some words, but such help should be under the utmost discretion. Articulation is miserably neglected in many school-. There is no possible chance fur a pupil to pronounce correctly when he has not yet learned the sounds of the letters and how to produce them. Too much at- tention can not be given to this part of the work. Not only should the sounds be given separately but com- bined. The pupil may find no trouble in making the sounds of* and // separately and still be unable to pro- nounce correctly the words shrink, shriek and shrill. It is not really necessary that the student be supplied with a book containing articulating exercises. A teacher can have better interest in his classes, and his pupils will have more confidence in him. if he makes his own exercises and puts them on the black-board. Great attention should be given to final consonant words. Take such words as bat, cat. hat. content, and use particular care in giving the final t sound. In such words as bad. rack, crack, and hack, the /: sound should be distinctly uttered. The word insists is a good word on which to practice. Be sure and get the t sound where it belongs. Below are a few sentences for class or private drill. 36 NORMAL READER. EXERCISES. He rejoiceth when it raineth, and he laugheth when it ceaseth. Some shun sunshine. She sells seashells. Shall she sell seashells? She shall sell six slick seashells. Swift the streamlet's soft struggles sent strong strings, siopt stuffs of stammering stones. He was amiabl , respectable, formidable, unbearable, intolerable, unmanageable) terrible, A hint has been previously given in this article about dictionary work. A few more thoughts here would, no doubt, be useful. Many teachers are not very careful about pronunciation, and guess many times when assisting their pupils in pronouncing words. If we are in doubt about a word, we should not be sat- isfied until the doubt is removed. The only way to learn how to pronounce correctly is to make a constant use of the dictionary and do not allow yourself to be put off. Either make a memorandum of the word or seek authority at once. Teach the pupils that learn- ing to pronounce words is a part of the reading les- son, and when they study the reading lesson they must acquaint themselves with all the words in the lesson, must learn their pronunciation, their meaning and their use. Bad pronunciation is a crime/ It is a sure test of ignorance. We give below a list of w r ords which are generally mispronounced unless authority be consulted. If a student wants to find out the necessity of referring to a dictionary, let him use his own judgment in pro- nouncing these words, and then let him look up their pronunciation and find out how many he has missed. While the list is only a few out of the many which are often mispronounced, yet several of these have sent the writer to the dictionary as many as four times for each HOW TO TEACH READING. 37 pronunciation. The words are all in general use, and are found in school books, histories and newspapers. EXERCISE. Encore lava Comparable lyceum debris scallop museum chagrin nuptials chalice corps corpse acoustics banquet crochet suite debut bronchitis pronunciation bologna facade pharmaceutics niche debauch gape pedagogy pedagogics nonchalance patron dessert syrup falcon. The manner of conducting a reading class so as to bring out the principles already mentioned, is probably of the most importance. The larger a reading class the more interest there will be in it. All pupils, from the second reader up to the highest grade, can be put into one class. It is not necessary that each member of the class reads every day ; hence, if the class contains thirty pupils, arrange it into three sections of ten each. Have one section to read one day, another the next, and so on. Devote one hour to this class. Have each pupil to read a different selection. Let him choose his se- lection if he will. He has three days to study and practice on his selection.. In that time he can look after the pronunciation and meaning of all doubtful words. He can study the thought and become famil- iar with it and the words which express it. When he 38 NORMAL READER. (Mines to read it to the class he does not merely have to confine himself to the Galling of words, but he can read in a clear, forcible and impressive manner, lie i- so familiar with his selection, and he feels so rally the thought which he is expressing, that he looks away from his book and casts his eve- into his "little audience," and as he gets deeper into the thought of his selection, he calls forth suitable expressions of his face and eyes and the next moment his hand paints a picture or adds em- phasis to a word, and in this creditable manner he fin- ishes his selection, and this progress has been made from the right kind of study and practice before coming to class. I [is articulation was clear, his pronunciation was good, and his hearer- were entertained, because they understood the thought of his -election, and he had given it to them in a delivery that was pleasing and im- pressive. The whole section read- in like manner, all having their selections well studied and prepared. Those who belong to the other sections can be taking notes and criticisms on the reading. All should keep a watch for mispronounced words, wrong slides of the voice, lack of emphasis and energy, and ungraceful po- sition. Have these criticisms given when the section is done reading. Use the two sections not reading as an audience for the other section. This audience will stimulate the reader to make a more careful prepara- tion. Two months of this kind of reading is worth five years of the old way, where pupils get up and read by verses and the teacher pronounces all the "hard words. " There is never any interest in such classes, and their study of the lesson is a miserable farce. For five years the writer has been using the " sec- tion plan/' of which he is the originator, and he has never failed in making good readers of all his pupils. The primary object of reading is to secure thought, and if the reader does not understand what he reads there must be something wrong in his training. Grasp- ing thought rapidly is the result of practice. If pu- HOW TO TEACH BEADING. 39 pils are taught that they mast understand what they read before they can read it intelligently to any one else, and that they must study to get the thought when they are preparing their selection, then they are prac- ticing just what they will want to use all through life. That method which makes the pupils study for the thought of the author, and then practice how to ex- press that thought, is surely the true method of teach- ing reading. STEPS IN READING. A child's first lesson in language is learning to talk ; the first lesson in school is learning to read. It is the source of all knowledge. Many methods have been given for teaching reading, some of which are good, while others are unnatural. The first lessons in read- ing are the same as those in language. The old ABC method, by which all the older teach- ers were taught to read, is now obsolete. It is no longer used by the progressive teacher. It is so abnor- mal that we wonder at what it has accomplished. It is well for the children of to-day that they are taught by more natural methods. The best method now in use is the word or object method. It is superior to all others in that it is the method of nature. Children in the country have a correct idea of a great many objects. They receive the idea as a whole, and have not yet analyzed them into their component parts. A child can have no idea of what it has not seen. The race acquired the use of lan- guage by objects. There were no new words around until there was an idea for them to represent. Nature begins with objects, then the idea, then the sign, and the ability to make the sign. This is the manner in which language has been developed, and from this we mav learn the method of teaching the use of it to a child. In teaching the word method, it is first necessary to 40 NORMAL READER. have an object. It matters not what word is first used, but it should be an object with which the children are familiar. Words that do not represent an object should not be used first. Talk about the object. Encourage conversation. A pupil will not learn to read before it can talk. When they have a complete idea of the ob- ject, present the picture of the object. It is well to draw this on the board. After they have comprehended this, write the word on the board. Tell them the word represents the object the same as the pieture. Have the pupils write the word on the slate. It is not nec- essary to have them print the word. It is best to teach the script letters, as they will use them in after life. The child knows nothing about the letters. Tin- word is the word! When it is once learned it is not likely to forget it. Teach several words in this man- ner, and then form sentences. Words that are not the signs of objects may be illustrated by examples. If you want to teach the word "old/' show a new object. Use the real object wherever you can. When the sentences are formed, have the pupils read as they talk. Great care should be taken in this. A bad habit formed in the primary grades is hard to be broken. Insist upon correct pronunciation. It is well to drill pupils upon the elementary sounds, after they have learned several words. Do not stick too closely to any one method, but try and use the best of all. Adapt the method to suit yourself and the school. It is not so much the method that is used in the primary grades as how it is used. The child is led in the path of knowledge, and all the difficulties antici- pated. If the child is interested in the work, it will learn to read, whatever method is used. In teaching primary pupils the teacher is superior to the methods. HOW TO TEACH READING. 41 ADVANCED READING. There is nothing so poorly taught in our country schools as reading. So much has this study been neg- lected that it is almost impossible to find a good reader anywhere. It is impossible for a teacher who can not read himself to teach others to read. A child talks natural enough, but when it begins to read it is no longer itself. That is the best reading which is near- est like common conversation. Talk to the pupils about what they are going to read. No one can read what they do not thoroughly understand. Ask questions until they know what ideas they should express, and then have them read as they talk. No two persons will read the same piece alike. That is good reading which conveys the idea clearly to the mind of another. Do not depend too much upon imitation to make a good reader. The teacher expresses his idea and the pupils express theirs. No one can read a selection with which he is not familiar. Every lesson should be thoroughly studied before being read. Teachers should prepare the read- ing lesson the same as arithmetic. There will never be good reading done until there is more interest aroused, and there will not be increased interest until there is more study on the lesson. It is not expected that you shall make elocutionists out of your pupils, but intelligent readers. Most of the reading that is done in our schools is purely me- chanical, the pupils having no idea of what they are reading. It is necessary that pupils should be able to call words at first sight, but that is not the chief use- of reading. Words are nothing only as they convey thoughts. Insist upon correct pronunciation, but do not lose sight of the thought. That pupils may give close attention to the reading lessons, it is well to have them copy a paragraph of each lesson on their slates in the intermediate grades. 42 NORMAL READER. Teach the meaning of words in the connection in which they are used. Sec that they comprehend tin- meaning of all words in the Lesson, and also know how- to spell them. This ifl especially important in the lower grades. Have them use the dictionary in con- nection with the reading, but be careful that the\ lect the correct definition. Give frequent exercises in the pronunciation of dif- ficult words. Sparc no pains to secure correct articula- tion. It is- well to give frequent exercises in breathing and articulation. Have the pupil stand erect when reading. No one can read well in an unnatural posi- tion. The greater part of the reading in the world is done silently and mentally. The object of the teaching in the higher grades is to teach the pupils to think as they read and gather in the thoughts from the printed page. To do this, it is well to give the pupil a selection to read silently, and then have him tell what he has read. Encourage a spirit of reading among your pupils. There is no way to learn how except to read. It is no use in having children read the same thing over and over after they have once learned it. Give them some- thing new to read. In the lower grades they should read at least two series of readers instead of one. In the higher grades let them read some story in the class or selections from the newspapers occasionally. The teacher should make the selections. Irving's "Sketch- book" would be good for the higher grades. They would not only learn to read, but would become famil- iar with some of the finest prose writings in the lan- guage. Do not permit a pupil to be interrupted by criticisms while he is reading. Encourage pupils to criticise each other, but do not allow criticisms to run into needless fault-finding. Be careful how you criticise. All errors should be corrected, but be more anxious to commend than to find fault. HOW TO TEACH HEADING. 43 Concert reading should be used occasionally as a drill. It will encourage the backward and restrain the for- ward. Concert reading will never take the place of individual instruction, however. In poetry it is well, sometimes, to have each pupil read only one line. It arouses attention. Do not call upon pupils to read in regular order. Let them read occasionally to a pause and then call on some one else to read. The class should be able to understand every word spoken by the pupil reading without looking on their books. There is no excuse for pupils not speaking so they can be heard. Take a short story of some kind and cut it into sec- tions, and distribute the parts to the members of the class. Call on the one who has the first part to read. As the story is new to them, it will require close atten- tion to tell which one will read next. In advanced reading, the same as primary reading, more depends upon the teacher than the method. It is your duty to interest the pupils in the reading les- son. Until the pupils are interested in their lessons, they will never become good readers. EXAMPLES FOE PKACTICE. SUBDUED, VERY SLOW, VERY LOW. 1. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame, fresh and gory ; We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, But we left him alone in his glory. GIVE ALMS. 2. Pity the sorrows of a poor old man, Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door; Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span ; Oh ! give relief, and heaven will bless your store. The curfew tolls the knell of parting day ; The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. — Gray. 44 NORMAL READEB. 4. I come! I come! you have called me long, I come o'er the mountains with Light and ><»ng, You may trace my Btepfl o'er the wakening earth, By the winds which tell of the violet's birth, By the primrose Btars in the Bhadowy _ r r.i--, By the green leaves opening as 1 pass. — Urinaria. DREAM OF DARKNI". 5. I had a dream which wa> not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguished, and the -tars Did wander darkling in the eternal -pace, — Raylees and pathless; and the Ley earth -wung Blinding and blackening in the moonless air; Morn came and went and brought no day. The world was void. 6. Io ! they come, they come. 7. His extortion is not like the rapacity of the princely eagle that snatches away its living, struggling prey ; he is a vulture that fcci\< upon the prostrate, the • lying, and the dead. — Burke. >. Forward the Light hrigade, Charge for the guns. 9. I tell you, though you, though the whole world, though an angel from heaven, were to declare the truth of it, I would not believe it. 10. Whence, and what art thou, execrable shape? 11. Ah! mercy on my soul ! What is that? My old friend's ghost ? No nearer, I pray ! 12. Leave me! Thy footstep with its lightest sound, The very shadow of thy waving hair, Wakes in my soul a feeling too profound. 13. Soldiers, you are now within a few steps of the enemy's outposts! Our scouts report them slumbering around their watch-fires, utterly unprepared. Swift and noiseless we are upon them, we capture them without resistance. 14. O I have passed a miserable night ! So full of fearful dreams and ugly sights. HOW TO TEACH BEADING. 45 15. The father came on deck, he gasped, " Oh, God ! thy will be done ! " Then suddenly a rifle grasped, And aimed it at his son ; " Jump far out boy, into the wave ; Jump or I fire," he said ; " This chance alone your life can save, Jump, jump ! " the boy obeyed. 16. Princes, potentates, warriors ! Awake, arise, or be forever fallen ! 17. If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a single foreign troop remained in my country I would never lay down my arms, never, never, NEVEE. 18. Thou too, sail on, O Ship of State ! Sail on, O Union, strong and great ! Humanity, with all its fears, Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Are all with thee, are all with thee. 19. We watched her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. 20. Haste me to know it, so that' With wings as swift as meditation, I may sweep to my revenge. 21. a Good morning, Lizzie, I am glad to see you. When did you arrive ? " " I came on last train." "Are you well?" " Quite well; I thank you." 22. Hamlet. Hold you the watch to-night ? AIL We do, my lord. Ham. Armed, say you ? All. From head to foot. Ham. Then saw you not his face ? Hor. O ! yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up. Shakespeare. 46 NORMAL HEADER. 23. I know the more one sickens, the worse at ease he is — that the property of rain is to wet, and fire to burn, and that the great cause of the night is the lack of the sun. Shakespeare, 24. Children prattle, ladies smile, men talk, goats stamp, dogs yelp, and geese hiss. Accept your classifi- cation. 25. They are gone, they are gone, the glimmering sparks hath fled ! The wife and child are numbered with the dead. 26. And now farewell ! 'Tis hard to give thee up, With death so like a gentle Bluniber on thee I And thy dark sin ! Oh! 1 could drink the cup, If from this woe its bitterness had won thee* May God have called thee, like a wanderer, home, My lost boy, Absalom! WHO*. 27. Then this ebony bird, beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stem decorum of the countenance it wore, "Though thy crest be shorn and -haven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly Bhore. Tell me what thy Lordly name is on the night's Plutonian shore ! " Quoth the ravin, " Nevermore." Poe. 28. Have ye brave sons? Look in the next fierce brawl To see them die. Have ye fair daughters t Look To see them live, torn from your arms, distained, Dishonored ; and if ye dare caU for justice, Be answered by the lash. Yet this — is Rome, That sat on her seven hills, and from her throne Of beauty, ruled the world! and we are Romans. Why, in elder day, to be a Roman, Was greater than a king! And once again — Hear me, ye walls, that echoed to the tread Of either Brutus ! Once again, I swear, The eternal city shall be free. 29. O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers ? whence are thy beams, O sun ! thy ever- lasting light ? Thou comest forth in thy awful beauty ; HOW TO TEACH HEADING. 47 the stars hide themselves in the sky ; the moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western wave. — Ossian. 30. The quality of mercy is not strained ; It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath ; it is twice blessed : It blesses him that gives and him that takes. — Shakespeare. 31. Oh, young Lochinvar has come Out of the west ; Through all the wide Borders his steed was the best. 32. 'Tis midnight's holy hour, and silence now Is brooding, like a gentle spirit o'er The still and pulseless world. — Prentice. 33. How like a fawning publican he looks, I hate him, for he is a Christian. 34. Let the woman demand the same exactness of manners from the man that he demands of her. If woman offends against chastity, she goes down forever ; but man offends against chastity, and yet with unblush- ing countenance, stalks over the land with uplifted head. Here society is at fault. That act that will banish woman from society, in the name of high heaven, let it banish man from society. C. 35. Tell me I hate the bowl, Hate is a feeble word. I loathe, abhor, my very soul With strong disgust is stirred Whene'er I see, or hear, or tell Of the dark beverage of hell. 36. Go from my sight, I hate And despise you. 37. Hurrah! the life-boat clashes on, Though darkly the reef may frown ; The rock is there, the ship is gone — Full twenty fathoms down. But cheered by hope, the seaman cope With the billows single-handed, They are all in the life-boat. Hurrah ! they're afloat And now they are safely landed By the live-boat ! Cheer the life-boat ! 48 NORMAL READER. 38. Oh, tell me, where did Katy live? And what did K:ity do '.' And was she very fair and young, And yet bo wicked, tool Did Katy love a naughty man Or ki-- more cheeki than one? I warrant Katy did no DION Than many a Kate hafl done. 39. " Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring nappy bells, across the Bnow ; T!i.' year i- going, lei hii Ring out the false, ring in the tni< 40. My -"til to-day I- tar away. Bailing the Vesorian Day ; My winged boat A bird afloat Swims round the purple peaks remote. 41. If tin .w Baid'st I am not peer To any I>>rd in Scotland here, Lowland or Highland, far or near, Lord Angus, thou hast lied. EXAMPLES FOR GESTICULATIONS. 1. " I give thee in thy teeth the lie ! " 2. " Forward ! Forward, let us range ! " 3. " Eternal King ! author of all being/' 4. "Give your children food, O, Father! " 5. "Ye crags and peaks, I'm with you once again." 6. "Thou shalt lie down with patriarchs of the in- fant world. 7. " AVe have no concessions to make, my lord." 8. " I prohibit the signing of such a paper." 9. "The Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast." PART IV. THE ART OF DELIVERY. BY VIKGIL A. PINKLEY, Conductor of the Elocutionary Department of the College of Music, Music Hall, Cincinnati, Ohio, Graduate of the National School of Elocution and Oratory. KEMAEKS. Duking the past six years the author having had, perhaps, not fewer than ten thousand voices under his direction, it may be claimed, we think, with modesty, that he has, by experience, learned somewhat of the needs and desires of students throughout the country. It will be the purpose of this division of the work to respond, practically, to those demands. One of the first questions a pupil asks when a work on elocution is commended, is, "does it contain select- ions?" They wish something more than theory and short extracts illustrative of the points as they appear. And yet, in the great majority of instances, they object to buying a separate book of selections. In all our subdivisions that will admit, after giv- ing brief extracts bearing upon the point in question, 4 (49) 50 NORMAL READEB. selections in fall, emphasizing the same, arc added. Many of these selection- the author has publicly tested, thereby proving their popularity. Many selections, fresh and winsome in humor, pathos, impersonation, dialect, character-sketching and descrip- tion, the book will be found to contain. Other select- ions of less modern origin which, by their ever-increas- ing hold upon the public favor, attest their genuine merit, are also inserted. Especial endeavor has been made by the author to make it a lucid self-instructor fur those who have no teacher, or who have had but a few Lessons in elocu- tion. INTRODUCTION. Elocution is the art of the vocal and visible expr ion of thought. Upon the voice depends vocal ex- pression. Upon the face, the action and the attitude, depends visible expression. Elocution [sthusaerived : " E," meaningout, "loqui," to speak, and " ion," the act of. Etymologically, then, elocution is the art, or the act, or the manner of speak- ing out. Thought is expressed or oarried out along two great avenues, viz., speech and gesture. To the ear the former appeals, to the eye the latter. Elocution, in its broadest sense, means more than manner. It is quite important that one have something to say as well as to be able to say something well. The teacher of elocution, while justly laying great stress upon vocal and physical culture, should also in- sist on good, choice English in right rhetorical order, according to the laws of grammar. Webster, in sub- stance, thus defines elocution : 1 . Expression of thought by speech and gesture. 2. Art of delivery. 3. Dic- tion in written and spoken discourse. Wooster, in other words, says the same. It is to the art of delivery I shall largely devote this chapter. THE AET OF DELIVERY. 51 Manner of delivery. { J™^ ocu ion. 1 r Gram, construction. [ Matter to be delivered. | Ehet> arrangement . n , f Expression, vocal and visible. uratory. | ExpressioDj rhetorical. f How I Diction. Eloquence. \ ' j £^£; t ' I Arrangement. Rhetoric. Composition. -J g t ^L^ Art of delivery. {™^ According to standard authorities the terms Elocu- tion, Oratory, Eloquence and Rhetoric are in the main synonymous. Formerly, the most prominent division of rhetoric was what is now known as elocution. However, it has so far drifted from that position as now to be confined almost wholly to written discourse. In a restricted sense, elocution refers to the delivery of the words of another. Oratory deals more particu- larly with the delivery of one's own thoughts. The training in the two is identical. Eloquence means more than either. Elocution and oratory are external. They are arts. Eloquence is both external and inter- nal. It is soul, quickened and projected by a magnetic delivery. Rhetoric is the silent theory underlying all the others. Elocution is the art of vocal and physical culture. Oratory is the application of elocution in delivering one's own words. Eloquence combines and immortalizes them all. PLAN OF STUDIES. I. Kespiration.j^alo'n: 52 NORMAL READER. INSPIRATORY MOVEMENTS. 1. Lateral expansion of chest. 2. Vertical expansion of chest. 3. Side expansion. 4. Back expansion. 5. Abdominal expansion. 6. Waist expansion. 7. Waist and chest expansion combined. 8. Inhalation prolonged to the n tm< >-t . 9. Full inhalation in quickest possible time. EXPIRATORY MOVEMENTS. 1. Prolonged to the utmost effusively 2. Prolonged to the utmost expul-iv.lv 3. Quickly given out explosively. {Vocal Gymnastics. Bxeatb < rymnastics. Body Movements. III. Articulation — 1. Elemental Sounds. 2. Special treatment of Consonants. 3. Difficult combinations. 4. Phonetic Drill. 5. Fundamentals, applicable alike to all languages IV OrthoeDv i Laws which g° vern pronunciation pv- \ Practice in pronunciation. Force. Purity. Flexibility. Volume. Compass. Modulation. Expulsive control. Explosive control. Prolonged tones. Tremulous tones. f Evenness of tone. Tones prolonged to J Smoothness of tone, the utmost. 1 Sameness of pitch. L Equality of vibrations. V. Vocal Drill. THE ART OF DELIVERY. 53 VI. Quality. - 1. Pure in conversation. 2. Pure in public address. 3. Pectoral. 4. Orotund. 5. Guttural. 6. Falsetto. 7. Nasal. VII. 8. Aspirated. {Attitude. Action. Facial Expression. VIII. Delivery or Expression. (High. Pitch or Key. 1 Middle. (. Low. f Reading. Recitation. Declamation. Impersonation. Dialects. Character sketching. Dramatic, Heroic, Humorous and L Pathetic renditions. {Subdued. Moderate. Intense. r Slight. Volume. -I Moderate. (Full. Time. /Bate. m \ Quantity. {Deliberate. Moderate. Rapid. {Prolonged. Average. Brief. {Upward. Downward. Combined. Pause } S y nta ctical. ±-ause. ^ EhetoricaL 54 NORMAL READER. CHAPTER I. RESPIRATION. In elocution, mastery of the breath is a fundamental and essential condition of success. The great actor, Talma, in hie earlier efforts would, in the more violent passages, so exhaust himself that he would drop against the wings for support. One day he saw Dorival play in a part requiring much energy. He noticed that Dorival seemed to work with ease. "How does the man do it! ''was his exclama- tion. "I am ten times stronger than he, but he gets ten times less tired than I." He asked Dorival why it was, hut got no satisfac- tion. Determining to know his secret, Talma, in disguise, visited Dorival's next performance. During the sec- ond act Talma rushed out crying, " I've got it!" It was by skillful management of breath that Dorival husbanded his strength. His lungs were kept well supplied with air and his breath was given out eco- nomically. TEACHERS. Ah ! how much weariness would be spared the teach- ers in our public schools, did they understand this matter of breath economy! DIVINES. How many ministers might escape Monday morning prostration if they only understood the same ! Breathing exercises, moreover,are medicinal. Through them the feeblest circulation is quickened ; cold hands and feet grow warm ; the pallid face flushes ; the slug- gish pores will open, and the body will be thrown into THE ART OF DELIVERY. 55 a gentle perspiration. By them pure air is driven into lung-cells ; weak lungs are enlarged and strengthened ; indigestion is removed, and the entire being is invig- orated. BKEATHING. DIRECTIONS. .Fill the lungs quickly, deeply, reposefully. It is not necessary to lift the shoulders nor to gasp. The air will go into the lungs by virtue of its own weight, if given an opportunity. Do not try to keep the lungs over-extended with air. That is unnatural and tiresome, and cripples speech. INHALATIONS. Practice prolonging the inhalation to the utmost. Beginners rarely succeed in surpassing twenty seconds in their early efforts. A few weeks, with ten minutes practice each day, will enable the student to reach a full minute in a single inhalation. EXHALATIONS. Practice prolonged exhalations, after a quick, full inhalation. After a quick, deep inhalation, give out the breath expulsively, prolonging it to the utmost. Take six such exercises in rapid succession, unless interrupted by dizziness, by faintness, or by palpitation of the heart. In such cases, cease the exercise for a time, but resume and re-resume until such symptoms wholly vanish. Inhaling as above, give out the breath explosively. Repeat the effort a half dozen times, taking great care to open well the throat before expelling the breath. Otherwise the throat would be irritated by this prac- tice. For those who are accustomed to reading and speaking with congested throats, producing, as it in- 56 is^xiMAL READER. variably must, sore throat, the above practice will prove highly beneficial. Inhale noiselessly. To see a reader or speaker struggling, or to hear him gurgling over his inspira- tions, is most disagreeable. There are tragic, or deeply emotional passages, in the skillful rendering of which, audible inhalation enhances the effect. In this matter let " discretion be your tutor." W ASTE NO BREATH. Reading and speaking demand bo much vitality that the strongest have no breath to fritter away. Convert all that escapee into voice, and you have learned the secret which Talma sought. That is the key-note to repose and reserve force. LUNGS. 1. With tape measure around bust at rest, see how many inches in circumference you can expand. Re- peat six times. WAIST. 2. With tape around the waist at rest, inhale, noting the amount of expansion. In this exercise the lungs are lengthened vertically, their pushing down account- ing, in great part, for the waist enlargement. SIDES. 3. With fingers spread upon the sides, inhale deeply, swelling the costal muscles as much as possible. Repeat six times. Shoulders still. Chest passive. BACK. 4. Spreading fingers upon the back, take full inha- lation six times, noting each time the effect on the dor- sal muscles. Quiet shoulders. Passive lungs. THE AET OF DELIVERY. 57 ABDOMEN. 5. Fingers pointing forward and downward from the belt, inhale six times deeply, cultivating the greatest possible action of the abdominal muscles. Don't lift the shoulders. Keep the chest quiet. 6. Combine the last three in a single inhalation, re- peating six times. Upon the tone and strength of these muscles depends projectile power in speech. Speakers of both sexes, large in chest and great in weight, sur- prise us often with their feeble voices. That their voices are so small and weak is due largely to the throwing of the burden of speech upon the throat and upper chest muscles. Diseases of the throat and lungs and exhaustion of the vital functions must follow. In the production of the voice, the fulcrum of power should lie in the muscles of the waist. FORMULAS. PROBLEM FIRST. 1. Weight to be lifted — The voice. 9 Fulcrum of power — A congested throat. 3. Lever short. 4. Quotient — Debility. Sore throat. Weak lungs. Feeble circulation. Torpid liver. Voice small and frail. Life short. PROBLEM SECOND. 1. Weight to be lifted — The voice. 2. Fulcrum of power — Muscles of the waist. 3. Lever long. 4. Result — Strength. Health. Sound throat. Vig- orous lungs. Active circulation. Lively liver. Voice deep and resonant. Life prolonged. Choose ye which ye will. 7th and finally — Combine in one thoroughly pro- longed inhalation the waist and lung expansion. Be- gin by gradual enlargement of the waist. Without 58 allowing the waist to contract, continue tfa throughout the entire n - the lung riidfl who, not ex: I a healthful spi ration will find t: - tip-: their :• I _ with warmth, and the lung- to thrill in every put with pleasure, ted a ball cely fai, ■ iration. CHAPTEB II. PB ►ne form of physical culture, bi has already been treat L An rther form, vocal gyu will he defined, in the main, under the head of V Culture. 1. Place hands up ard. the vowels with fall i 1 volume, with much . action. 'i. Hands on Bides, fingers pointing backward. Give with much dorsal action. ■j. Fingers pressing upon the abdominal muscles, bring them into activ- - . by above rneth In all these exercises see that the shoulders remain quiet and the chest alrno-t passive. The less they per- form the more active will be the waist. Even the I forcible utterances do not lift the shoulders unless some- thing in the nature of the sentiment demands it. Thou- sands are marred by this ungainly lifting and laboring with the shoulders. BODY MOVEM.' Body Movements is the name we bav< _ ird form of physical culture. They may be divided into : THE AST OF DFJJTZEY. 59 1. Gesture. 2. Calisthenics. The former we will treat in a later division. CALISTHENICS. 1. Finger movements. 2. Wrist movements. 3. Elbow movements. 4. Shoulder movements. 5. Full arm movements. 6. Head movements 7. Trunk movements. 8. Ankle movements. 9. Knee movements. 10. Full limb movements. FINGER MOVEMENTS. Arms extended. Front. Horizontal. Allowing the hands to droop, put the fingers into rapid vibration, moving them freely at all the joints. This may be continued for at least one minute at each drill. WRIST MOVEMENTS. Hands hanging limp from the wrists, move them rapidly up and down, from side to side, and in circles. EEBOW MOVEMENTS. With all the muscles relaxed from the elbows down, carry the fore-arms and hands through the above series of movements. SHOULDER MOVEMENTS. Transferring the pivoted point to the shoulders. movements as above. FIRST FTTLL ARM MOVEMENTS. Position. — Hands clinched and placed upon b:-. - well back toward points of shoulders. 1. Bring right hand forcibly down in front, resting 60 NORMAL READER. for a moment at the side, and return forcibly to the starting point. Repeat four times, counting "one" "and," "two" "and," "three" and," "four" "and." 2. Left hand through similar movements, counting, "five" "and," "six" " and," " seven " "and," "eight" "and." 3. Alternately four times, sending the right hand down on "one," bringing right hand kick and thru-t- ing left hand down simultaneously on " and," reversing on "two," reversing on "and," reversing on "three," reversing on " and," reversing on " four," bringing right hand back to join the left on chest on "and." 4. Both down on "five," back on "and," down on "six," back on "and," down on "seven," back on "and," down on "eight" and back on "and." SECOND FULL ARM MOVEMENT— CIRCULAR. Position. — Hands clinched on chest. 1. Both hands downward, forward, upward and back to starting point in an unbroken circular movement, counting "one," as the hands go down and completing the circuit on " and." Repeat through eight counts, or one strain of music. THIRD FULL ARM MOVEMENT. Position. — Hands clinched and arms extended hor- izontally. 1. Bring rigid right arm up in line with the ear and back to starting point. Do this four times, counting as above. 2. Left arm up and back four times. 3. Alternately four times, lifting right arm on " one," returning right arm and lifting left arm simultaneously on "and," reversing until "four" is counted, then on " and" bring right arm back to keep company with the left in horizontal position. 4. Both arms up and back four times. THE ART OF DELIVERY. 61 FOUETH FULL ARM MOVEMENT. Position.— Right hand clinched, horizontal, front. 1. Describe a circle of two feet in diameter through "four," "and." 2. Left hand as above, through "five," "and," "eight," "and," inclusive. 3. Rotate both, simultaneously, right hand moving from right to left, and left hand the reverse, through "four," "and." 4. Both hands, simultaneously, from right to left, through "five," "and," "eight," "and," inclusive. FIFTH FULL ARM MOVEMENT. Repeat above movements with hands out at the sides. SIXTH FULL ARM MOVEMENT. Position. — Arms extended horizontally, front, hands open, palms together. 1. Throw arms straight back in the horizontal plane until backs of the hands come together behind. Re- peat through "eight," "and," the hands coming to- gether in front each time on "and." SEVENTH FULL ARM MOVEMENT. Position. — Hands clinched and resting in the arm- pits, with the wrists bending outward from the sides. 1. Thrust right arm straight down along the side on "one." Back to the starting point on "and." Do the same four times. 2. Left hand the same. 3. Alternately, four times, thrusting the right hand down on " one," bringing it back while thrusting left hand down, alternating until the count of "and" after "four" brings the right at rest in arm-pit. 4. Both hands down and up, simultaneously, four times. 62 NORMAL READER. EKiHTII FULL A KM MOVEMENT. Position. — Hand clinched, resting on shoulders, thrusting up and bringing back, same order as above. NINTH FULL A KM MOVEMENT. Position. — Hands clinched and resting against the hips, arms rigid. 1. Bring rigid right arm up at the side until it r- against the head. Back on "and." This four times. 2. Left arm, likewise, four times. 3. Alternately, four times, firsl Lifting the right arm on "one" — then dropping right arm as the left is lifted. 4. Both up, simultaneously, bringing clinched hands into contact, both back to starting points on "and." Four times. TENTH FULL A KM MOVEMENT. Repeat above movements to the front, keeping head and body quiet, and not allowing the arms to bend at the elbows when brought to the front, head high. ELEVENTH FULL ARM MOVEMENT. Position. — Hands clinched and resting on chest. 1. Right hand to the front, resting at hip on "one," back on "and." Then up, vertically from the shoul- der, on "two," back on "and." Four times, thus down and back, up and back. 2. Left hand likewise. 3. Alternately four times, thrustiug right hanr) down and left hand up, simultaneously, on "one," both back to chest on "and." 4. Both down on "one." Both back on "and." Both up on "two." Both back on "and." Four times. TWELFTH FOUL ARM MOVEMENT. Position. — Both hands clinched, resting on chest. THE AET OF DELIVEEY. 63 1. Both hands thrust to the right side as far as pos- sible without moving the feet, maintaining a perpen- dicular position with the body and head. Both hands back to chest on " and," with the face to the front in repose. Both hands thrust to the left, turning body as far as possible without moving the feet, standing erect. Both hands back on " and," facing to front. Eepeat four times. 2. Both hands to the right side, turning body with the arms, feet stationary, on "one." Back to starting point en " and." Four times. 3. Same movements four time to the left. THIRTEENTH FTJEE ARM MOVEMENT, Position. — -Hands clinched, resting on chest, feet firmly together. 1. Without bending the knees forward, thrust both hands downward, touching the floor with the finger tips. To the starting point on " and." Four times. chin and " adam's apple." Position . — Natural . 1. Bring the two together on a one." To the start- ing point on "and." Push them far apart on "two" — starting point on " and." Four times. "adam's appee," chin and tongue. Position. — Natural. 1. Thrust all three forward to the utmost on " one." Starting point on "and." 2. Thrust all three as far back as possible on " two." Starting point on "and." Same movements four times. HEAD MOVEMENTS. Position. — Natural. 1. On "one" drop the head as nearly as you can to 64 NORMAL READER. the right shoulder. Starting point on "and." Same movement to the left on "two." Starting point on "and." Four times. 2. Drop the head forward on " one." Starting point on "and. Backward on "two." Starting point on "and." Four times. 3. Right, back, left, front, left, back, right, up. Four times. TRUNK BfOVEKENTB. Position. — Body erect, arms hanging loosely at the sides, hands open. 1. Bend body from the hips to the right side on "one." Starting point on "and." Same movement to the left on "two." Starting point on "and." Four times. 2. Bend body to the front from hips on "one." Erect on "and." Same movement backward on "two." Erect on " and." Four times. 3. Right, back, left, front, left, back, right, up. Four times. These Calisthenic exercises, throughout, are intended to give tone and strength to all the muscles that should be used in vocal utterance. For many of them I am indebted to my alma mater, the "National School of Elocution and Oratory." CHAPTER III. ARTICULATION. In reading, in singing and in speech, distinct articu- lation is of the utmost importance. It is the duty of the performer to make himself easily understood. By so much as one absorbs the vitality of an audience in an effort to understand, by that much is one's effective- ness lessened. It is not only discourteous to an audi- THE ART OF DELIVERY. 65 ence to so put it on a strain, but suicidal to the best interests of the speaker. The singer, or speaker, has no more right to present an audience with a faulty articulation, than he has to appear in an unbecoming costume. A voice of moderate strength and volume, sustained by clear, distinct articulation, will make itself under- stood by a much larger number of people than could the most colossal volume, crippled by ill articulation. The only savior for those who inherit impetuosity, is careful articulation. Those who, by nature, do all things quickly, will find great safety in giving special attention to the consonants. Vowels frequently drown the consonants. Be sure you so vocalize the conso- nants that they will carry to the ears of the listeners. Then, however rapid the speech, you will surely make your words heard. SOUNDS -HOW MADE. 1. Long a. Tongue somewhat elevated and thickened, the sides resting against the upper side teeth. By parting well the teeth and slightly projecting and rounding the lips, the quality of tone will be much improved. 2. Short a. Made as is long a, except that the tongue is lowered and pushed further forward, accompanied by a similar change in the movement of the lower jaw. 3. Long Italian a. Differs from long a in that the lips are somewnat more widely parted, and the tongue drawn further back with tip depressed. 66 NORMAL READER. s Tongue almost at pest, teeth -lightly apart and lip>, more widely parted. ~>. long Flat ,i,j e. Tongue elevated, flattened, and pressed against the upper side teeth. The sound is improved by widely parting the teeth and projecting and rounding the lips. In tact, this last suggestion is equally applieable to all the vowels. 7. Short Differs from long e, by a dropping of the tip of the tongue downward and forward, with a like action of the chin. Tilde e. Tongue thickened, forward part pressing against the upper side teeth ; lips and teeth widely parted. Compound movement of tongue and teeth. 1. Tongue pushed back, and thickened at the base, on the " ah" sound — teeth well apart. 2. Position as above de- fined for long e. 10. Short i. Like long e, except that the tip of the tongue is somewhat lower, and a little less broadened. 11. Long o. Tongue pressed far back into the roof of the mouth ; teeth very greatly parted; lips puffed and rounded, leaving small opening. THE ART OF DELEVEEY. 67 IS. $'-: ■ ■ Base ol tongue less elevated, and lips much more widely parted than in long o. 13. Broad '. Same as long 6, except a larger mouth-opening, and less elevation of the base of the tongue. This sound requires larger mouth-room than that of any other one in the language. 14. Long u. Compound. For the first position see long i lXo. 9). For the second see long 00 (Xo. IT). 15. Short u. A wider opening of the lips, with a depression of the tip of the tongue, will convert long vi into short u. 16. Broad u. Like tilde e, only that the tongue is made shorter and thicker, and the teeth are more widely parted. 17. Long 00, also marked o. Differs from the long 6 position (see 11) in that the lips are more closely compressed and the lower jaws projected a little further forward. IS, Short do, marked also p. Lips more widely parted and teeth more nearly to- gether than in long 00. 19. Diphthong oi. Compound movement. See broad 6 and short 1. 96 Diphthong ou. Compound. See long Italian a and long 00. 68 NORMAL READER. :l. b. Lips compressed. Before parting them vocalize the breath. .-/. d. Teeth parted; tip of tongue pressed against base of upper front teeth. Vocalize before removing the tongue. 9- Teeth apart; sides of tongue pressing against the middle-roof of the mouth. Vocalize while in that po- sition. i- Like g, except tongue is pressed further forward, and teeth are brought more nearly together. A slightly aspirated sound is heard at the close of vocalization. I. Teeth parted, and well covered by the lips; tongue at tip against the upper front teeth. Vocalize. 26. m. Lips slightly compressed. Vocalize. Tone par- takes slightly of the nasal. 27. n. Teeth apart ; tip of tongue against base of upper front teeth. Vocalize. Nasal tone enters to some ex- tent. 28. Underlined n. Mouth opened ; tongue drawn back ; base of tongue so thickened and situated as to direct the air into the nasal passages. It is a commingling of the sounds of n and g. 29. r. Chin projected and flattened — teeth parted — lower THE ART OF DELIVERY. 69 lip drawn tightly over lower teeth — sides of the for- ward part of the tongue pressed against the upper side teeth — tip of tongue free and vibratory at moment of vocalization. The simple r is made by being once driven from its position and once returning. A series of such movements produces the trill. The latter should be conscientiously avoided when not demanded by the sense. 30. Sonant th. Tip of tongue against tip of upper teeth. Vocalize. si. v. Under lip against tip of upper teeth. While in this position vocalize. 32. w. The letter as it stands is made up of the sounds of d, short u, b, 1, y, long double 65. When found in company with other letters it has but one sound, made with organs in almost precisely the position as already defined for long 6, there being a little less opening of the lips, and less lowering of the lower jaw. S3, y. For this sound, draw the lips further back with larger opening of the mouth than for w. 34- z. Tip of tongue back of the upper front gums — side of tongue against upper side teeth — teeth uncovered and almost together — tone and breath united. 35. zh. Differs from z by a slight retraction of the lower jaw and a similar movement of the tongue. 70 NORMAL READER. rh. Differs little from position for j (see 24), only that the breath is aspirated instead of being vocalized. 37. /. Same position as for v (see 31). Aspirating instead of vocalizing. . h. As it stands it is equivalent to long a and ch. When found with other letters it consists of a single breath sound. Tongue drawn back and elevated; teeth and lips parted; drive out the aspirated breath by abdomi- nal action. ». k. Lips and teeth as in h ; middle part of tongue pressed against the mouth just in front of the palate. Force the breath out by a quick action of the diaphragm. 40. p. Similar in position to b (see 21). Gather the breath against the lips. The pushing of them apart by the un vocalized breath gives the sound of p. 41. s. Little change from position of z (see 34). Teeth slightly wider apart and lower jaw a little more re- laxed. It is a hissing sound which, overdone, makes utterance highly unattractive. 42. t. Position as for d (see 22). Explode the gathered breath aspirately by sudden removal of the tongue. 43. Nonsonant th. The position for sonant th (see 30), changed by a THE ART OF DELIVERY. 71 slight removal of the tip of the tongue from the teeth, and forcing out of the aspirated breath. 44. sh. With the organs in position for zh (see 35), part the teeth a trifle, and slightly relax the lower jaw. Aspi- rate, forcibly, the breath. ARTICULATION EXEKCISES. 1. Did you go to town? 2. Would you fan the flame ? 3. Could you count the cost ? 4. Should you sell seashells? 5. Won't you turn his mind ? 6. Can't you come to-day? 7. Shan't you remain all year? 8. He is a man of high culture. 9. His gestures are somewhat florid. 10. He ineffectually paves the way. 11. His obituary has not been written. 12. His fortune is virtually made. 13. He is a man of broad education. 14. The furniture in the room is costly. 1 5. In form and feature he is handsome. 16. In virtue she surpasseth them all. 17. His baths, and oaths, and paths and wreaths are innumerable. 18. Many truths by many youths are spoken. 19. In the matter of thought, he has been carefully taught. 20. A bright thought flashed into his mind. 21. Premonitions avail but little. 22. The communist cries — " Demolition." 23. The relaxation of the muscles is conducive to low pitch. 24. He speaks of all that's good with utter detesta- tion. 72 NORMAL READER. 25. He prematurely promulgated the prelude of his predecessor. 26. His protestatiou that his partner in matrimony should receive alimony prevented his molestation un- til his economical turn of mind was shown by his pre- sentation of a niggardly pittance. 27. His adventure was a caricature on the creature. 28. His fortune for the future was made by his election to the legislature. 29. To ameliorate the condition of mankind the courtier sometimes contribute. 30. To be a plebeian is, by some, considered a mis- fortune. 31. Sculpture flourishes in the medium temperature, while the Pleiades shine brightest on a frosty air. 32. It is absolutely true that he alluded to his aptitude with a dubious air, and opened anew the avenues of consuming passions. 33. To deduce aright, one must not delude, be he duke or dupe, and to elucidate the truth he should ex- clude, with enthusiasm, all that is obscure. 34. He intuitively introduced the Jew, and flew into a tumultuous review of the stupid institutions of the past. 35. It is evident that while he is honest, and innocent, and fluent, and gifted, that he is a remorseless aspirant for fame's resplendent crown. 36. His pallid face, and faultless form, and ripeness of speech, and melancholy mien, would indicate that he was an aspirant for clerical honors. 37. His declamatory style in the dedicatory remarks, was derogatory to his cause, and should teach him that, in prefatory statements, he should remain within the territory of conversational simplicity. 38. From the fog sprang his noble dog. 39. He will, at any cost, be gone. 40. His cross was often heavy. THE ART 0* DELIVERY. 73 41. Her pretty, soft hand, and her beautiful song> entranced the vast throng. 42. The duke was out of tune. 43. She played her lute in the county institute. 44. He was on the verge of doffing the ermine. 45o His purpose was an earnest one. 46. Mirth is a fertile source of health. 47. He is exempt from preemption law. 48. Would we were rational in all national matters. 49. To advance his cause, he at last undertook the task of blasting the communistic class, who bask in the rays of others' prosperity. 50. His form was laid beneath the yew-tree's shade,, and in that narrow cell he lies, hidden forever from all mortal eyes. CHAPTEK IV. OKTHOEPY. To be disregardful of little things, is no evidence of greatness. There are those who say : " Let that man alone. Leave him as God made him. Don't touch his gesture, his voice, his speech. Let him be natural. When the crisis comes he will be equal to any emergency." There are men who think that though they daily talk in rasping tones, and in ignorance of all grammatical or rhetorical law, and in words ill- pronounced — that when the responsibility comes and they face a judge, or jury, or audience, they will do all these things well. With as much reason we would ex- pect a man, ignorant of Physiology, Anatomy and Hygiene, to be able, skillfully, to handle the most com- plicated case of surgery, on the heat of the occasion. That is not the way in which we argue if we wish a pilot across the sea. We ask for an educated rather than an inspirational engineer. We apply common sense 74 NORMAL READER. to almost any profession, save the one of Oratory. If you will but observe, you will find that those who think that it matters little how they stand, or how they look, or in what voice they speak, or how they pro- nounce — men who would take offense were you to criticise them on one of those points — are holders of a $600 annual salary — when they can collect it. These things are not too small for a great man, but they are too large tor a narrow man. The higher the position held and the greater the influ- ence wielded, the more conscientiously should the speaker pronounee his W0rd8 eonvetlv. " Oh ! he says ' der-read ' for dread, and he's a leader ; surely, 1 can say it who am a private." " He says 'culch-er' for culture, and he is one of the mosi prominent speakers in the country." "He Bays r inef-Feck-chew-aP tor ineffectual, and he has no -mall salary." "He says 'diju go?' lor did you go? and 'won chu stay?' for won't you stay? and 'ejucation' for educa- tion, and he draw- large houses." He draws the house- despiti his butcheries, not because of them. RULES GOVERNING PRONUNCIATION. The letter a, composing an unaccented syllable or an unempha- sized word, takes the sound of short Italian a. When accented or emphasized it is long a. Short Italian a. Such words as ask, task, past, grass, repast, are by multitudes in- correctly called ask, task, past, grass, repast. Others say iisk, titsk, past, grass repast. Below is given a few of the words in common use, requiring the short Italian a. The short Italian a is frequently given as short £, short I, or long a. Anna, not Ann6 ; Alabama, not Alabamy; Dakota, not Dakota. The short Italian a is found mainly in monosyllables ending in THE AET OF DELIVERY. 75 ff, ft, nee, nch, nt, sk, sp, st, ss. Ask, task, bask, cask, flask, mask, asp, grasp, clasp, gasp, aghast, repast, contrast, advance, entrance, enhance, advantage, basket, casket, blanch, cranch, branch, blast, past, mast, hast, cast, passed, caste, fast, last, brass, grass, mass, class, glass, lass, pass, amass, alas, bombast, chaff, quaff, staff, chance, glance, prance, trance, dance, lance, chant, slant, grant, pant, ant, craft, graft, abaft, draught, draft, quaffed, baft, shaft, waft, ghastly, vastly, lastly, pasture, pastor, castor, plaster, vaster, rafter, grafter. Long Italian a. This sound is often perverted so much as to be given like short &. Say neither — {lawnch, f Sunt, f flaunt, f gaunt, ( calf, f half, nor \ nor \ nor \ nor -j nor \ nor l5nch, ( awnt, ( flawnt, {_ gawnt, ( cawf, ( hawf. Below is given a short list of words containing long Italian a: ah, pa, ma, bah, art, heart, part, mart, cart, tart, aunt, gaunt, flaunt, taunt, avaunt, balm, psalm, calm, calf, half, laugh, laughter, laugh- able, dauntless, avaunt, laundry. A, before terminal r, or rr, in monasyllabic words, unless itself be preceded by vj, has the sound of long Italian a, as in far, tar, car, char, star. Long fiat a. Many speak pear as though it were pronounced payer, and stare like stayer. Say pear, pair, care, stare, share, flare, tear, wear, fair, snare, etc. Lang e. Near, not nare. Fear, not fare. Spear, not spare. Short 6. GiftSd, not giftid. Innocgnt, not innysunt. HonSst, not honist. Decent, not decunt. Kequiem, not requium. Kipeness, not ripe- ntiss. Tilde e. Earth, not urth. Girl is not gtirl. Mirth, not niurth. First, not furst. Pronounce girl, twirl, whirl, birth, earth, girth, earl, pearl, «arn, fern, discern, her, fir, myrrh, firm, rehearse, cracker, broker, 76 NORMAL READER. maker, striker, nadir, southern, eastern, fertile, perfect, persuade, permanent, perform, permeate. Long I. Say fine, not foine. Shine, not Bhoine. Kind, aot coyand. Short I. Say pallid, nnt pallud. fnsplration, not insperation. Beautiful, not beautuful. Dedicatory, not dedacatory. Deficit, nol defuc&t P. S. — Let all the short vowels be given quickly, crisply, clearly. Lnii'i <"). more, not mawr. Four, not for. Gore, nol gawr Board, not bawrd. Innocent, not innlcent, - t o. Avoid broad o and do not drawl theshort 6. Say dog, not dawg. not fawn. 8fid, not Bawd. <*od, not gawd. Pronounce hog, off, often, soft, cross, cost, accost, gone, long, song, thong, prong, strong, moss, gloss, grog, frog, plod, nod, hod, pod, rod. • i ft. Say thought, not thflt. Caught, not cot. Fought, not fot. Taught (tawt), not tot. Sought, not s6t. Fraught (frawt), not frfit. Pronounce gaudy, pawn, morn, George, gorge, Gaul, pall, fall, stall, tall, shawl, mortgage, thought, caught, sought, taught. Lung oo. Say root, not root. Food, not food. Soon, not soon. Pronounce rood, mood, brood, hoof, proof, truth, groom, bloom, tomb, boon, soon, moon, fool, pool, tool, room, noon, wound. U equals oo when preceded by r, s, sh, z, zh. Rude, sure, azure. Short oo. Say good, not gild. Full (oo), not fill. Pull (oo), not pul. Foot, not tut. Pronounce book, took, nook, full, pull, hook, pullet, put, push. THE ART OF DELIVERY. 77 Long u. In many sections of the country this letter is sadly mutilated. It suffers at the hands of high and low, rich and poor, black and white. It is a handsome letter when properly pronounced. Per- haps nine-tenths, even among the educated classes, give long oo for long u. Very few people would say beautifnl (bootiful), but the same people who say beautiful (butiful), will pronounce dew idoo), new (noo), lute (loot), duke (dook) or (jook). Do not say toon, for tune. ploom, for plume. enthoosiasm, for enthusiasm. dooly, for duly. noo, for new. allood, for allude. Short u. Say hiatus, not hiatis. Herbivorous, not herbivoris. Gums, no gomes nor gooms. Pronounce up, sup, tub, hub, cup, flood, blood, must, just, trust, dust. d. Say deduce, not dejuce. Duly, not July, Deducible, not deju- cible. Duty, not juty. Induce, not injuce. Pronounce duty, duly, deduce, durable, endure, enduring, ver- dure. yoo. Say fortune, not forchoon, or forchun, or forchin, or forchen. Say future (futyoor), not fucher. Say gesture (gestyoor), not jeschgr. Say sculpture (sculptyoor), not sculpcher. Say plebeian (plebeyan), pleiads (pleyads). Say furniture (furnityoor), not furnichur. e. u. r. The above three letters, in their mastery, cost students more toil than any others in the list. Practice them frequently. earth, earl, earn, learn, stern, purge, furl, urn, burn, turn. 78 normal reader. a. ft. a. This is another trinity of difficulties. To distinguish neatly, one from the other, requires much practice. ant, tash, plant, martha, mat, hand, plaid, guaranty, air, near, prayer, scarcely, c. The letter c never appears so in phonic writing c = k, in care. c = s, iii cent. c = sh, in ocean. ch. ch = ch, in chain. ch = sh, Ln chaise. ch = k, in chaos. Do not say queschun for question. InerTechual for ineffectual Education for education. Virchue for virtue. ain. This combination is, quite often, equivalent to in. Mountain. Fountain. an. In such words as and, hand, man, there are two errors to avoid : and, not and nor and ; hand, not hawnd nor hand ; min, not rndn nor man ; span, not sp&en nor span. b. After m, in the same syllable, the letter b is usually silent, as bomb, comb, dumb, lamb, numb, tomb. Rhomb is one of a few exceptions. c. c = k in sceptic and scirrhus. c = s in censure, cent and many other words. c = z in suffice, sacrifice and discern. c, before e, i and y, as a rule, has the sound of s. accent. cymbal. cygnet. decent-. cinder. juicy. excite. celery. celebrate. THE AET OF DELIVERY. 79 a. In words, or syllables, ending with the sound of d, care should be taken not to allow the tongue to be pushed from its position by unvoCalized breath, in which case it becomes t. Again, do not prolong the sound, nor slight it. Find the golden mean. dread = dr8d, not der-red. drive = driv, not der-riv. e. With exception of a, e added to monosyllables in which r, or rr, is terminal preceded by a vowel, converts the vowel into its long sound. car -J- e = care. her -fe = here, far -f- e = fare. sir -f e = sire, star-f- e = stare. for + e = fore. cur -f- e = cureo ed. Usually, in verbs, ed = t, while ed retains the sound of e when used adjectively. Verbs and Participles. blessed. worked. cursed. incensed. Participial Adjectives. blessed. abhorred. aged, cursed. condemned. famed. el. Terminal el ordinarily retains the e in utterance, as in rebel, bar- rel, bushel, camel, cancel, channel, chapel, chisel, gravel, gospel, hovel, novel, kennel, model, squirrel, tassel, travel, tunnel. Exceptions. — Barbel, betel, chattel, drivel, easel, grovel, hazel, mantel, mussel, navel, ousel, ravel, rivel, scovel, shovel, shrivel, shekel, snivel, swingel, swivel, teasel, toggel, weasel. en. Terminal en usually drops the e, as in chasten, driven, even, fasten, given, heaven, leaven, often, riven, soften, taken. Among the exceptions are: Aspen, chicken, hyphen, gluten, kitchen, lichen, linden, marten, mitten, latten, mynchen, patten, 80 NORMAL READER. platen, rowen, sudden, pollen, omen, linen, siren, sloven, wieken, ■woolen, yewen. er. These two Bounds, which freely coalesce, are l>y many separated, thus: fear is fer, not fefir. terrible is terlhl, not turubl. vernal is vernal, not vurnul. et. The same may be said of this combination: set is s^t, not s£ut. met is met, not meiit. g- Following e, i, or y, g almost always takes the sound of j. gentry. girl. gyration. gender. gin. gymnast germane. giant. gypsum. Exceptions. — Gelding, geese, giving, girt, muggy, foggy, grew = gr6o, not g6r-roo. guard = giird, not ge-yard. grand = grand, not ger-rand. With h between g and e, i, ory, g has its hard sound. Gherkin. h. why = hwi. when = hw£n. where = Invar. what = hwftt, etc. il. Terminal il commonly sounds the i, as in civil and pencil. It is silent in devil, evil and weevil. in. The same is true of the i, in terminal in, as in martin, replevin. It is silent in basin, cousin, raisin. om. In this combination the o is frequently pronounced short \1, as in bomb, bombast, come, comely, comfort. THE ART OF DELIVERY. 81 on. While in the combination on, the o is often pronounced ob- scurely. Briton, cordon, ebon, piston, ribbon, sexton, wanton. In hexagon, octagon, etc., the o is short. In bacon, beacon, beckon, etc., the o is silent. ou. count = k-ou-nt, not ke-yount. kind = k-i-nd, not ke-yind. ow. cow = kou, not ke-yow. now = nou, not na-yow. Say car, not caw, nor kear. Hair, not ha. Birth, not biith. Nor, not naw. Patter, not pattah. Scatter, not scattah. Bar, not bah. Forlorn, not fawlaun. Farm, not fahm. When two r's come together in the same word, but one is usually sounded. For no other reason should r ever be suppressed. Furry = furi. Carry = karf. Hurry = hurl. Marry = marl. s. Eetain the sound of s in the following words : Absorb, Asia, Asiatic, basalt, cassimere, conservator, conversant, designate, de- sist, desultory, etc. s = z in design, osier, composure. s = zh in collision, delusion, persuasion. s = sh in censure, commensurate. shriek = shrek, not srek. shrew = shroo, not sroo. strike = strik, not sterrike. she, under emphasis, is she. she, not under emphasis, is she. to, under emphasis, equals too. to, not under emphasis, equals too. tomorrow = toomorro, not termorrer. 6 82 NORMAL READER. TERMINAL I I >N80M I These exist in almost endless variety and intricacy. To master them in their multiplied combinations, is to render the lips and tongue exceedingly flexible and trustworthy. The failure to give them proper prominence is one of the most fruitful sources oi in- distinctne* Unless careful, the d in and will not be heard. " " t in swil't will not he heard. " u some mice will he some ice. " u r will not be heard in dower. " t will not hi- heard in crossed. " " pain no will be pain o. " " rests will be res. u u acts will be as u u swept will be Bwep. " " make clean will hi- make lean. 11 u aeronaut will be arenaut. " " aerial will he arial. " wreath'dst will be vrreathst " imprison'dst will he imprisonst u " attempdst will he attemst too. too, under emphasis, is too. too, not under emphasis, is tob. unknown is unknown, not Snknown. unseen is unseen, not 6nseen. untried is untried, not ontried. VOWELS. The vowels preceding r terminal, in a syllable, are short, it the next syllable begins with a vowel. arable, perish, miracle, foreign. Among the exceptions are : Alarum, flaring, glaring, curing, staring, wearing, etc. The vowels are short before rr, not terminal, as : Carry, horror, sorrow, parry, tarry, ferry, cherry, etc. THE ART OF DELIVERY. 83 The vowels should not be allowed to overawe or vanquish the consonant sounds. x = ks. e. g. excuse = Skskus. x = gz. e. g. exist = Sgzist. This letter never constitutes an entire word. Y, I am going to- day — is bad. Y, I said so — is bad. DICTIONARY WORK premature aggrandized donative promulgate stipend distichs demarcation philology subsidence detestation orthoepy diocesan relaxation feticism laryngitis demolition tergiversation carotid protestation acumen apparently prematurely prescience lethargic economical misogynist chalcedonic molestation discern overtures presentation aspirant dromedary ephemeral acetic absolutory comely laboratory cognizant hypochondriacal globules amour lugubrious iodine withe didactic albumen inveigled dishonest caoutchouc interloper ribald subjected houghing grimaces numerous palfrey pedal altercations joust pedals virago prebendary adamantine ally abjectly saturnine equability albeit wassails divan respirable telegrapher contemplated aerie. diploma elysium 84 NORMAL READER. In the following words omit the syllable indicated : Agricultur(al)ist. Conversation (al)ist. Horticultur(al)ist. Prevent(at)ive. These vowel sounds which, under emphasis, are long, should be spoken with a tendency to the short sound when not under em- phasis. She, under emphasis. She, not under emphasis. The, under emphasis. The, not under emphasis. Their (a), under emphasis. Their not under emphasis. They (a), under emphasis. They not under emphasis. To (oo), under emphasis. To not under emphasis. We, under emphasis. We not under emphasis. You (oo), under emphasis. You not under emphasis. Your (oo), under emphasis. Your not under emphasis. While Englishmen are more prone to drop letters and slight sounds in pronunciation, than are Americans, yet they possess points of superiority over us. They declaim, with little stress on the syllables of secondary accent. We, as a rule, put so much stress on this syllable that it is difficult to tell which is our pri- mary, and which is our secondary accent. These are a few of the many words of this nature: Migratory, inventory, matrimony, dedicatory, derogatory, category, parsimony, predatory, terri- tory, in all of which the English method is much smoother and more musical than ours. The Golden Mean. We should avoid extremes. New, as ne-yew is one extreme. New, as noo is another. In all such words strike the long u, neatly, trippingly, inoffensively. THE ART OF DELIVERY. 85 Guide, as ge-yde, is one extreme. Guide, as goide, is another extreme. Nature with the t and y widely separated and emphasized is offensive. Nature, as nacher, is offensive. O-bit-uary, with painful prominence given to the b and t, is bad. Obituary, as obich-u-ary, is worse. Did you, drawling out the d and y, is contrary to good taste. Did you, as diju, is in no better taste. Inspiration, with the short I snappishly uttered, is to be con- demned. Inspiration, as insperation, should no less be condemned. In all these things, while not overstepping the bounds of mod- esty in an attempt at precision, yet one must not fall into a slovenly, unscholarly pronunciation. Ill Used Words. Do not say "lit" for lighted. Do not say " proven " for proved. Do not say " plead " for pleaded. Do not say " onto " for on or upon. Do not say "gents" for gentlemen. "Enthuse" is not in good taste. " In our midst " is a threadbare phrase, and means " in the midst of us." Do not say " partially " for partly. Do not say " lady " for wife. Do not say " helpmeet " for wife. Do not say " helpmate " for wife. Do not say " companion " for wife. Do not say "lady" for woman. "At one fell swoop" should rust into decay. If we say " that was a ' lengthy ' performance," may we not say "it was a 'strengthy' performance?" Do not say " leniency " when " lenity " means as much. Do not " jeopardize " your time by using so long a word, when "jeopard " is quite as good. A " reliable " witness may lie again, but a " creditable " one may be believed. 86 NORMAL READER. His "pants" are all right if the man is oul of breath, but "trousers" are fur wear. "Lunch" may satisfy the lowly, hut "luncheon" is for him who speaks correctly. The student does not "graduate," but is "graduated." You are " mistaken " if you are taken for some one else. You "mistake" if you are in error. Do not say "authoress" and " pen h There can be nothing "different to" any thing else. "Grant" is shorter and neater than "donate." "Think" is shorter and better than "apprehend." "Severe," rather than "condign" punishment Do not Bay u casualty " for " accident." Do not say "predicate" for "declare." Do not say "alluded to" unless y..u merely made mention of. Do not Bay " individual" for " person." Do not say "portion " for " part." Do n< r " remainder." Do not s;iy " hound " for " determined." • Do not say " widow woman " for " widow." Do not say " own " for "conf< Do not say " less" for " fewer." Do not say "administer" for "dealt." Do not say " aggravate " f<»r " provoke." Do not say " alone" for "only." Do not say " amateur" for " novice." Do not say "consider" for regard. Never say " got " if you can avoid it. There is no such word as " illy." He does not succeed " nicely." Do not say "overflown" for "overflowed." No one person ever ran "pell-mell." Present your inferiors; introduce your equals. _ ,. „ c f assert. Do not say "promise" for j asgure Say " sitting hen," if she is sitting. So "high a tree," instead of "such " a high tree. An "underhand" act, not an "underhanded" act. Do not say " upward " for " more." THE ART OF DELIVERY. 87 DICTIONARY WORK. adipose anchovy alias sarcenet Asiatic sepulture Chinese cadaver cognac coadjutant coronal protege decorous granary enervate charivari morphine apparatus opportune coterie proscenium. romance renaissance placard retrocede extol sinecure gratis umbilicus gala unfrequented peony vagary- supple vase tiny copaiba squalor quinine demesne almond canine envelopes brooch ' AN EXERCISE FOR READING. There is nothing more enervating than the bearing of a gigantean cognomen. His gondola glides o'er the legendary waters of the Lethean stream, carrying him further from his coadjutors and his allies, toward a combative country of aristocratic proclivities, where he may indulge his epicurean appetite in an indefatigable way; where his vagaries will no longer prove revolting, and where his peremptory authority will take precedence in a manner wholly inexplicable. It is sacrilegious to exhaust one's self in making an example, in no way obligatory, of a friend, who will surely become an irrevocable enemy, and who will vehemently pronounce an irreparable anathema on his complaisant traducer, simultaneously making demonstrable the fact that, though he is crippled, he is not vanquished. 'T were better his friend had dealt in homoeopathic doses, or waited a decade of years, than to have made himself amenable to his neighbor's anger in allopathic de- gree, for his opponent will not be slow to test the acoustics of the 88 NORMAL READER. slanderer's head, in the most vehement manner, though an exem- plary Christian. Upon his assailant he will heap contumely and much scathing raillery, showing himself no amateur with his splenetic tongue, but, on the contrary, B man conversant with his recitative. CHAPTER V. VOCAL (T LITRE. I. Give the vowels in a pure, conversational tone. Do this until there is left no jot of hardness or harsh- ness in the tone. II. Taking the vowelfi in order, one by one, at a medium pitch, prolong the tones to the utmost. This is to teach economy of voice, management of voice, con- trol of breath, and reposeful attitude. Be sure, in the prolonged tone exercises, that your voice maintains the same volume throughout ; that the vibratory movements of the voice are equal in length, and that no impurity shall at any moment creep into the voice. Again in- sist on the conversion of all the breath into tone. In preparing for this exercise, take a quick, deep inspira- tion. See that the shoulders are not lifted much in this action. Do not allow a sudden collapse of the lungs at the first stroke of the voice as you begin to exhale. This sudden escape of breath at the very beginning is the chief cause of the beginner's inability to prolong tones. With ten minutes, practice daily the student can, in three months' time, carry a single tone a minute. III. Give the vowels with full volume. Gather your force from the abdominal muscles. Jostle the shoulder but little in the giving of the sounds. Keep the chest almost passive. IV. In the same exercise try, with a bit of tissue paper immediately in front of lips, to give the tones THE ART OF DELIVERY. 89 with fullest force, without causing the paper to stir. If you succeed, you have the breath under good control, and can husband your strength by speaking with ease. Y. Take the vowels, step by step, from your con- versational key to the highest you can command, pre- serving the smoothness and purity of tones throughout. At no time tax or congest the throat. Let it rest. Make the body work. Send the tones out through the mouth, not through the nose. VI. Carry the vowels from your conversational key to the lowest you can reach, insisting on the same con- ditions as before. VII. Prolong the tones to the utmost in the conver- sational key ; in your highest, and in your lowest. The rapidity with which voices, by nature harsh and dis- cordant, grow smooth and pure under this simple drill, is amazing. Xo less surprising is the conversion of weak or piping voices, into voices of wondrous volume and roundness of tones. VIII. Strike the vowel with full volume and force, gradually allowing it to die away. In this exercise, take care not to contract or stiffen the throat, otherwise the soundest would quickly be- come irritated. Such congestion is perhaps the most prolific cause of chronic sore throat, and in many cases leads to troubles of the lungs. IX. With full force and volume strike the vowels suddenly and as suddenly cut off the voice. Again I warn the student against congestion of the throat. With a throat at repose and a body at work, this voice drill becomes at once a promoter of health and strength. X . With voice at slightest audible tone, gradually enlarge it to your fullest volume. Aim to have the lungs exhausted at the moment of reaching your fullest volume. Do not continue the tone when it ceases to increase in volume. Do not alter the pitch during this effort. 90 NORMAL READER. Few persons, on their first attempt, can attain much volume; fewer can maintain the oneness of pitch, and not more than one in a thousand can exlraust his breath and reach the fullest volume simultaneously. Ordinarily, the beginner finds his voice failing him within twenty seconds. A few weeks systematic prac- tice will enable the same pupil to attain a half minute. XI. Opening on the vowel with full volume and force, without altering the key, carry the vowel to the slightest audible tone. Do not allow the voice to de- scend byjerks, nor to diminish very suddenly at first. XII. Combine tenth and eleventh exercises. To be able to reach one-third of a minute at the first attempt will be the lot of very few. XIII. Trill the vowels until breath is exhausted, preserving one pitch, one volume, and equal length of vibrations. Near to the lips, without jostling the paper, give the vowels as above. When you succeed in this, if you are a minister, you will not suffer from Monday prostrations ; and if a teacher, your day's work will not close, rinding you in husky voice. One who can do this, and will persist daily in practice, will soon find himself the possessor of sound throat and lungs. VOCAL DRILL. 1. Give the vowels as in common conversation. 2. Pure, and prolonged to utmost. 3. With full force and volume. 4. Prolong No. 3 to the utmost. 5. From conversational to highest key. 6. From conversational to lowest key. 7. Prolong 5 and 6 to the utmost. 8. Full force and volume with vanish. 9. Prolong the vanish. CRESCENDO. 10. With voice at slightest audible tone, begin each vowel, gradually enlarging it to its fullest volume. THE ART O^ DELIVERY. 91 DIMINUENDO. 11. Striking each vowel with the fullest volume, gradually let it die away to the slightest audible tone. 12. Combine 10 and 11 ; thus, swell O. 13. Trill the vowels, prolonging them to the utmost. PURE VOICE — CONVERSATIONAL STYLE. Exercises. 1. There's a Magical Isle up the river Time, "Where the softest airs are playing. There's a cloudless sky and a tropical clime, And a song as sweet as a vesper chime, And the Junes with the roses are straying. — B. F. Taylor. 2. " Well, well, let him think so, the dear little elf, 'Twould be cruel to tell him I did it myself." — Mrs. Snow. 3. But while she was still very young — O, very, very young — the sister drooped, and came to be so weak that she could no longer stand in the window at night ; and then the child looked sadly out by himself, and when he saw the star, turned round and said to the patient, pale face on the bed : " I see the star." And then a smile would come upon the face, and a little weak voice used to say : " God bless my brother and the star ! " — Dickens. 4. Suit the action to the word ; the word to the action ; with this special observance — that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature : for any thing so overdone is from the purpose of playing ; which end, both at the first and now, was, and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature: to show virtue her own feature; scorn her own image ; and the very age and body of the time, his form and pressure. — Shakxpere. 5. Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. — Bible. 6. The moon above the eastern wood Shone at its full ; the hill-range stood Transfigured in the silver flood, Its blown snows flashing cold and keen, Dead white, save where some sharp ravine 92 NORMAL READER. Took shadow, or the somber green Of hemlocks turned to pitchy Muck Against the whiteness at their back. For such a world and such a night Most fitting that unwarming Light, Which only seemed where'er it fell To make the coldness visible. Shut in from all the world without, We sat the clean-winged hearth about, Content to let the north wind roar In baffled rage a1 pam ind door, While the red logs before as beat The frost line back with tropic beat; \ml ever, when a louder blast Shook beam and rafter as it passed, The merrier up its roaring draught The great throat of the chimney laughed The house-dog on his paws outspread Laid to the fire his drowsy bead, The cat's dark silhouette on the wall A'couchant tiger's seemed to fall ; And, for the winter fireside meet. Between the andiron's >traddling feet, The mug of cider simmered slow, The apples sputtered in a row, And, close at hand, the basket stood With nuts from brown October's wood. What matter how the night behaved ? What matter how the north wind raved ? Blow high, blow low, not all its snow Could quench our hearth fire's ruddy glow. O, Time and change! with hair as gray As was my sire's that winter day, How strange it seems, with so much gone Of life and love, to still live on ! Ah, brother ! only I and thou Are left of all that circle now, — The dear home faces whereupon THE ART OF DELIVERY. 93 That fitful firelight paled and shone. Henceforward, listen as we will, The voices of that hearth are still ; Look where we may, the wide earth o'er, Those lighted faces smile no more. "We tread the paths their feet have worn We sit beneath their orchard trees, We hear, like them, the hum of bees And rustle of the bladed corn ; We turn the pages that they read, Their written words we linger o'er, But in the sun they cast no shade, No voice is heard, no sign is made, No step is on the conscious floor ! Yet Love will dream and Faith will trust, (Since He who knows our need is just) That some how, some where, meet we must. Alas for him who never sees The stars shine through his cypress trees ! Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, Nor looks to see the breaking day Across the mournful marbles play ! Who hath not learned in hours of faith, The truth to flesh and sense unknown, That Life is ever lord of Death, And Love can never lose its own ! — Whittier. EXERCISES FOR FULL FORCE AND PROJECTILE POWER. 1. In spite of rock and tempest's roar, In spite of false lights on the shore, Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! — Longfellow. 2. Hurrah ! hurrah ! a single field Hath turned the chance of war, Hurrah ! Hurrah ! for Ivry and King Henry of Navarre. — T. B. Macaulay. 3. The armaments, which thunder-strike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, And monarchs tremble in their capitals — 94 NORMAL READER. The oak leviathans, whoso huge ribe make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, an arbiter of war — These are thy toys; and, as the Bnowy Hake They melt into thy yeasl of waves which mar Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar. — By rem 4. "Pull, it ye never pulled before; Good ringers, pull your best," quoth he; "Play up, play up, O Boston bells I Play all your changes, all your swells, Play up 'The brides of Enderby.'" — Jean Ingelow. 5. And I heard, as it were, the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thun- derings, saying, 'Alleluia! for the Lord (rod omnipotent reign- eth.'" — Bible. 6. Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are ! And glory to our sovereign liege, King Henry of Navarre! Now let there be the merry sound of music and the dance, Through thy cornfields green and sunny vines, O pleasant land of France ! And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the waters, Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters. As thou wert constant in our ills be joyous in our joy, For cold and stiff and still are they who wrought thy wails annoy. Hurrah ! hurrah ! a single field hath turned the chance of war; Hurrah! hurrah! for Ivry and King Henry of Navarre! Oh ! how our hearts were beating, when, at the dawn of day, We saw the army of the League drawn out in long array ; With all its priest-led citizens, and all its rebel peers, And Appenzel's stout infantry, and Egmont's Flemish spears. There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of our land ! And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his hand; And, as we looked on them, we thought of Seine's empurpled flood r And good Coligni's hoary hair, all dabbled with his blood ; And we cried unto the living God, who rules the fate of war, To fight for his own holy name and Henry of Navarre ! THE ART OF DELIVERY. 95 The King is come to marshal us, in all his armor dressed, And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant crest : He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his eye ; He looked upon the traitors, and his glance was stern and high, Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled from wing to wing, Down all our line, in deafening shout, " God save our lord, the King ! " "And if my standard-bearer fall, as fall full well he may — For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray — Press where you see my white plume shine, amidst the ranks of war, And be your oriflamme to-day, the helmet of Navarre ! " Hurrah ! the foes are moving ! Hark to the mingled din Of fife and steed and trump and drum and roaring culverin ! The fiery duke is pricking fast across St. Andre's plain, With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne. Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France, Charge for the golden lilies now! upon them with the lance ! A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest ; And in they burst, and on they rushed ; — while, like a guiding star, Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre ! Now God be praised, the day is ours ! Mayenne hath turned his rein, D'Aumale hath cried for quarter, the Flemish Count is slain. Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay gale ; The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and cloven mail. And then we thought on vengeance, and all along our van, " Remember St. Bartholomew," was passed from man to man ; But out spake gentle Henry then, " No Frenchman is my foe ; Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go." Oh ! was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in war, As our sovereign lord, King Henry, the soldier of Navarre ! Ho ! maidens of Vienna ! Ho ! matrons of Lucerne ! Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never shall return. Ho ! Philip, send, for charity, the Mexican pistoles, That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spear-men's souls ! 96 NORMAL READER. Ho! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be bright! Ho! burghers of St. Genevieve, keep watch and ward to-night! For our God hath crushed the tyrant, our God hath raised the slave, And mocked the counsel of the wise, and the valor of the brave. Then glory to His holy name, from whom all glories are ; And glory to our sovereign lord, King Henry of Navarre! — T. B. Macaulay. FULL FORCE — EXPULSIVELY. Exercises. 1. Hurrah ! the foes are moving! Hark to the mingled din Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring culverin 1 The fiery duke is pricking fast across Saint Andre's plain, With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne. Now, by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France, Charge for the golden lilies now, upon them with the lance ! — T. B. Macaulay. 2. Ha! above the foliage yonder Something flutters wild and free! " Massa ! Massa ! Hallelujah ! The flag's come back to Tennessee !" — E. L. Beers. 3. Now, in the name of all the gods at once, Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed! Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble blood ! When went there by an age, since the great flood, But it was famed with more than with one man ? When could they say, till now, that talked of Rome, That her wide walls encompass'd but one man? Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough, When there is in it but one only man. O ! you and I have heard our fathers say There was a Brutus once, that would have brook'd Th' eternal devil to keep his state in Rome, As easily as a king. — Skakspere. 4. Ay — though it bid me rifle My heart's last fount for its insatiate thirst — THE ART OF DELIVERY. 97 Though every life-strung nerve be maddened first — Though it should bid me stifle The yearning in my throat for my sweet child, And taunt my mother till my brain went wild — All — I would do it all — Sooner than die, like a dull worm, to rot — Thrust foully into the earth to be forgot ! — K P. Willis. 5. Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend! I shrieked, up starting — Get thee back into the tempest and the night's plutonian shore ! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken ! Leave my loneliness unbroken ! Quit the bust above my door 1 Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door ! — Edgar A. Poe. (For selection see Speech of Cassius, page 217.) THE CRESCENDO AND DIMINUENDO COMBINED. 1. 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 thy shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy dead ; 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. — Byron. 2. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts. — Bible. 3. 0, earth, so full of dreary noises ! O, men, with wailing in your voices ! O, delved gold, the wailers heap ! O, strife ; O, curse, that o'er it fall ! God strikes a silence through you all, And giveth his beloved sleep. — Elizabeth Browning. 98 NORMAL HEADER. 4. O, time and change ! How strange it seems, with so much gone Of life and love, to still live on I Ah, brother ! only I and thou Are left of all that circle now. — Whiltier. 5. Cromwell, I did not think to Bhed a tear In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes; and thus far hear me, Cromwell: And, when I shall sleep in dull, cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of — say, I taught thee; Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor, Found thee a way, out of his wrack, to rise in, A safe and sure one, though thy master missed it. — Shakspere. 6. 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, uncoflined and unknown ! The armaments, which thunder strike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, And monarchs tremble in their capitals — The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war — These are thy toys ; and, as the snowy flake They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar. Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee — Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they ? THE ART OF DELIVERY. 99 Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage'; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts — not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild wave's play — Time writes no wrinkle on thy azure brow — Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now ! Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests ! — in all time — Calm or convulsed, in breeze or gale or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark heaving— boundless, endless, and sublime! The image of Eternity ! — the throne Of the invisible,— even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made ! Each zone Obeys Thee ! Thou goest forth ; dread ! fathomless ! alone 1 — Byron. TREMULOUS TONES. Exercises. 1. The bleak wind of March Made her tremble and shiver; But not the dark arch, Or the black, flowing river ; Mad from life's history, Glad to death's mystery. Swift to be hurled — Anywhere, anywhere Out of the world. — Thomas Hood. 2. " It's time for me to go down to that there berryin' ground, sir, and ask to be put along with him. I wants to go there and be berried. He used fur to say to me, ' I am as poor as you, to-day, Jo,' he sez. I wants to tell him that I am as poor as him now, and have come there to be laid along with him." — Dictens. 3. "Ah, Hal, I'll try, But in my throat there's something chokes, . Because, you see, I've thought so long To count her in among our folks. I s'pose she must be happy now, But still I will keep thinking, too, 100 NORMAL READER. I could have kept all trouble off By being tender, kind and true. But may be not. She'- Bafe up there, And when his hands deal other strokes, She'll stand by Heaven'.- gate, 1 know, And wait to welcome in our folks." -Ethel Lynn. 4. Alone in the dreary, pitiless street, With my torn, old dress, and bare, cold feet, All day I have wandered to and fro, Hungry and Bhiveringand no where to go. —P.H. Case. 5. Farewell, a long farewell to all nay greatness! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hop* : to-morrow bloss oras And bears hi- blushing honors thick upon him. — Shakspere. 6. "Well, Jo; what is the matter? Don't be frightened." "I thought," says Jo, who has started, and is looking round, "I thought I was in Tom-all- A lone'- again. An't there nobody here but you, Mr. Woodcot? " " Nobody." "And I ain't took back to Tom-all- Alone's ; am I, sir?" 4 was. — Bible. 4. On ! On ! Courage ! One effort more, and all is won ! The stair is passed — the blazing hall is braved ! Still on ! Yet on ! Once more ! Thank heaven, She's saved ! — B. T. Conrad. 5. Another year has parted, and its knell Is sounding now o'er the past's silent ocean. Ah, it is an hour for tears ! There is a specter-form In memory's voiceless chambers, pointing now Its dim, cold finger to the beautiful And holy visions, that have passed away, And left no shadow of their loveliness On the dead waste of life. — George D. Prentice. (See The Fall of Pemberton Mill, page 175.) 106 NORMAL READER. CHAPTER VI. QUALITY. CONVERSATIONALLY PURE. For exercises see section first, Vocal Culture. OROTUND. /.' ■ 1. 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 ever- lasting, thou art God. — Bible. 2. Am I, who have lived but for my country, and who have subjected myself to the dangers of the jealous and watchful op- pressor, and the bondage of the grave, only to give my country- men their rights, and my country her independence, and am I to be loaded with calumny, and not suffered to resent or repel it? No, God forbid I — Robert Emmett. 3. O, Cromwell, Cromwell ! Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies. — Shahpere. 4. I can still drink in the unshadowed Beauty of the universe, gaze with a Swelling soul upon the blue magnificence above, And hear the hymn of Heaven in every Starlight ray, and fill glen, hill, and vale, And mountain, with the bright and Glorious visions poured from the deep home Of an immortal mind. Past year, farewell / 5. Sir, before God, I believe the hour is come. My judgment approves this measure, and my whole heart is in it. All that 1 have, and all that I am, and all that I hope, in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon it, and I leave off as 1 began, that, live or die, survive or perish, I am for the Declaration. — Daniel Webster. (See Apostrophe to the Ocean, page 98.) THE AET OF DELIVERY. 107 PECTORAL QUALITY. Exercises. 1. I saw a man deal death unto his brother. Drop by drop the poison was distilled for cursed gold; And in the wine-cup's ruddy glow sat death, Invisible to that poor, trembling slave. — E. E. Evans. 2. Dead, your majesty. Dead, my lords and gentlemen. Dead, Eight Reverends and Wrong Reverends of every order. Dead, men and women born with heavenly compassion in your hearts. And dying thus around us every day. — Dickens. 3. Perishing gloomily, Spurred by contumely, Cold inhumanity, Burning insanity, Into her rest ! Cross her hands humbly, As if praying dumbly, Over her breast ! — Thomas Hood. 4. And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door ; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor shall be lifted — nevermore. — E. A. Poe. 5. Now a shroud of snow and silence over every thing was spread ; And but for this old blue mantle and the old hat on my head, I should not have even doubted, to this moment, I was dead, For my footsteps were as silent as the snow upon the dead. — F. Wilson. (See On the Shores of Tennessee, page 219.) GUTTURAL QUALITY. Exercises. 1. Tell me, ye bloody butchers ! Ye villains, high and low ! Ye wretches who contrived, as well as you who executed the inhu- 108 NORMAL READER. man deed ! Do you not feel the goads and stings of conscious guilt pierce through your savage bosoms? — John Hancock. 2. Ay down to the dust with them, slaves as they arc! From this hour let the blood in their dastardly veins That shrunk from the first touch of liberty's war, Be sucked out by tyrants, or Stagnate in chains! — Thomat Moore. 3. I loathe ye in my bosom, »rn ye with my I'll taunt ye with my 1 itest breath, And fight ye 'till I diel — 0. W. Patten. 4. Ay, down to the dust with them, slaves as they are! From this hour let the blood in their dastardly veins, That shrunk from the first touch of Liberty's war, Be sucked out by tyrants, or stagnate in chains! On, on like a cloud, through their beautiful vales, Ye locusts of tyranny ! blasting them o'er: Fill, rill up their wide, sunny waters, ye sails, From each slave mart in Europe, and poison their shore. May their fate be a mock-word — may men of all lands Laugh out with a scorn that shall ring to the poles, When each sword that the cowards let fall from their hands Shall be forged into fetters to enter their souls ! And deep, and more deep, as the iron is driven, Base slaves ! may the whet of their agony be To think — as the damned haply think of the heaven They had once in their reach — that they might have been free. Shame! shame! when there was not a bosom whose heat Ever rose o'er the zero of Castlereagh's heart, That did not, like echo, your war hymn repeat, And send back its prayers with your Liberty's start! Shame! shame! that in such a proud moment of life, Worth ages of history — when, had you but hurled One bolt at your bloody invader, that strife Between freemen and tyrants had spread through the world ! That then — 0, disgrace upon manhood ! e'en then You should falter, — should cling to your pitiful breath, THE AET OF DELIVERY. 109 Cower down into beasts, when you might have stood men, And prefer a slave's life to a glorious death ! It is strange! — it is dreadful ! Shout, Tyranny, shout Through your dungeons and palaces. " Freedom is o'er" — If there lingers one spark of her fire, tread it out, And return to your empire of darkness once more. For if such are the braggarts that claim to be free, Come, Despot of Kussia, thy feet let me kiss ; Far nobler to love the brute bondman of thee, Than sully e'en chains by a struggle like this. — Thomas Moore. FALSETTO QUALITY. Exercises. 1. "There's a providence in it. It is foreordained. He never was sick before — never." — Mark Twain. 2. And den I tom'd home and eated my tea, And I tlim'd on grandpapa's knee, And I's 'des as tired as tired 'tan be. — F. B. Smith. 3. Ho! Cravens! Do you fear him? Slaves! Traitors! have ye flown? Ho ! cowards ! have ye left me to meet him here alone — A. G. Greene. 4. Well, why tan't we p'ay dus as mamma did den, And ast Dod to send him with p'esents aden? — Mrs. Snow. 5. Help ! Help ! Will no one aid ? I die ! I die ! — R. T. Conrad. 6. John Davison and Tibbie, his wife, Sat toastin' their taes ae nicht, When something starlit in the fluir, And blinkit by their sicht. " Guid wife," quoth John, " did ye see that moose ? Whar sorra was the cat ? " "A moose?" — "Ay, a moose." "Na, na, guid man — It was na a moose, 'twas a rat." " Ow, ow, guid wife, to think ye've been Sae lang aboot the hoose, 110 NORMAL READER. An na to ken a moose frae a rat ! Yon was na a rati 'twas a moose." " I've seen mair mice than ye, guid man — An' what think ye o' that? baud your tongue an' sae nae mair — I tell ye, it was a rat." " Me baud my tongue for ye, gnid wife! I'll be mester o' this boose — I saw't as plain as een could see't, An' I tell ye, it was a moose ! " " If you're the mester o' the hoose, It's I'm the mistress o' 't; An' I ken best what's in the hoose — Sae I tell ye, it was a rat." "Weel, weel, gnid wife gae mak' the brose, An' ca' it what ye please." So up she rose, and made the brose, While . John <:it toastin' bie toes. They supit, and supit, and supit the brose, And aye their lips play'd smack, They supit, and supit, and supit the brose, Till their lugs began to crack. "Sic fules we were to fa' oot, guid wife, Aboot a moose " — "A what ? It's a lee ye tell, and I say again, It was na a moose, 'twas a rat ! " " Wad ye ca' me a leear to me very face ? My faith, but ye graw croose! I tell ye, Tib, I ne'er will bear 't — 'Twas a moose ! "— " 'Twas a rat ! "— " 'Twas a moose ! " Wi' her spoon she strack him ower the pow — "Ye dour auld doit, tak' that — Gae to yere bed, ye canker'd sumph, 'Twas a rat!" " 'Twas a moose ! " " 'Twas a rat!" She sent the brose caup at his heels, As he hirpled ben the hoose; THE ART OF DELIVERY. Ill Yet he shoved oot his head as he steepit the door, And cried, "'Twas a moose! 'twas a moose!" But when the carl was fast asleep, She paid him back for that, And roar'd into his sleepin' lug, '"Twas a rat! 'Twas a rat! 'Twas a rat!" The de'il be wi me if I think It was a beast ava ! — Neist mornin' as she sweepit the fluir, She found wee Johnnie's ba' ! NASAL QUALITY. Exercises. 1. Nur I can't see What's the use o' wings to a bumble-bee, Fur to git a livin' with, more'n to me ; — Ain't my business Important 's his'n is? — Trowbridge. 2. Ye see, Ike was allers for gettin' what he could out 'o the town, and he would feed his sheep on the meetin'-house green. Some how or other Ike's fences allers contrived to give out, come Sunday, and up would come his sheep, and Ike was too pious to drive 'em back Sunday, and so there they was. — Mrs. Stowe. ASPIRATED QUALITY. Exercises. 1. And soldiers whisper: " Boys, be still ; There's some bad news from Grainger's folks ! " — Ethel Lynn. 2. And the next thing I remember you were sitting there, and I — Doctor— did you hear a footstep? Hark I God bless you all ! Good-bye ! Doctor, please to give my musket and my knapsack, when I die, To my son — my son that's coming — he won't get here till I die j — F. Wilson. 3. " I hear you, sir, in the dark, but I'm a gropin — a gropin. Let me catch hold of your hand." — Dickens. 112 normal reader. 4. " Here's the paper signed that frees you, Give a freeman's shout with me— 'God and Union ' be our watchword Evermore in Tennessee!" 5. "And Barton, I insh you'd Let the children come when I'm buried. They'll come, if you'll jest let 'em know. Always trunr/e 235.) Sentiments of joy, spirituality, intense excitement, exaltation, calling, command, fright, rage, etc., should be given in high key. in Hiyh Key. 1. Hurrah! Hurrah! a single field hath turned the chance of war. Hurrah! Hurrah! for Ivry and King Henry of Navarre. — Macaulay. 2. Give thanks, for your son has saved our land, And God has saved his life ! — Phoebe Cary. 3. Were I Brutus, and Brutus Antony, There were an Antony would ruffle up Your spirits, and put a tongue in Every wound of Caesar, that should Move the stones of Rome, to rise and mutiny. — Shahpere. THE ART OF DELIVERY. 115 4. ! you and I have heard our fathers say, There was a Brutus once, that would have brook'd The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome, As easily as a king. — Shahpere. 5. " Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend ! " I shriek'd, upstarting — " Get thee back into the tempest and Night's Plutonian shore ! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken ! Leave my loneliness unbroken — quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door! " (For full selection, see "Battle of Ivry.") PHYSICAL FORCE— MORAL FORCE. The two may coincide. Many times they do not. There are those who, while putting forth prodigious physical effort, render themselves only ridiculous or disgusting, because they are wanting in moral power. Again, there- are those who are almost faultless in their artistic methods, but lack a living, breathing, vivifying soul. They can not move or magnetize the hearer. Earnestness, honesty, fervor, can not prudently dis- pense with art, learning, law, but were we driven to a choice we would say — give us the first named trinity. One may be earnest and honest, while at the same time he may be awkward and inefficient. A man may be honest and yet in error. Hence we would urge that all his warmth, and glow, and impetuosity, be put under the dominion of an in- telligent, educated spirit. For convenience, we 'will make the same illustrations serve both forms of force. Examples. Great Moral Force. Subdued Physical Force. 1. How like a fawning publican he looks ! I hate him, for he is a Christian, { 116 NORMAL READER. But more for that, in low simplicity, He lends out money grati>, and brings down The rate of usance herewith us in Venice. — Shahpeie. f Full Physical Force. \ Blight Moral Fori 2. Let me play the fool : With mirth and laughter lei old wrinkles come, And let my liver rather heat with wine Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. — Shakspere. f Full Physical Force. ( Full Moral F( 3. The blood which you seek U not congealed by the artificial terrors which surround your victim ; it circulate- warmly and un- ruffled through thechann As which ( tod created for noble pun but which you are bent to destroy for purposes so grievous that they cry out to heaven. —Robert Emmdt. i Slight Physical Force, i Blight Moral Force. 4. Love is merely a madness, and I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do; and the reason why they are not so punished and cured 18, that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers are in love too. — Shakspere' S Rosalin'l. Physically, sentiments of majesty, dignity, heroism, dramatic fire, unbridled rage, stern command", shouting, calling aloud, etc., demand full force. The expression of intense passion, good or ill, demands much force. Moderation, in all its forms, would call for medium moral or physical force. Sentiments serene, reposeful, connected, trivial, play- ful, unemotional, would call for little physical force. Oppressiveness, exhaustion, the sepulchral, the super- stitious, the awe-inspiring, the secretive, the pathetic, etc., demand a subdued form of force VOLUME. The power to convince, or please, or persuade, is not always in proportion to the amount of noise that is made. There may be great volume with indistinct THE AET OF DELIVERY. ' 117 articulation, in which case the speaker aggravates this fault by his largeness of volume. There may be great volume with little sense, when this volume serves only as a background upon which nonsense may stand out in bold relief. There are those who do not believe in law; who make a great plea for uupruned effort; who think that when the crisis comes — a great noise, backed by what they are pleased to style divine afflatus, will carry everything. This is the argument of in- dolence and ignorance. Of no other profession do they reason so foolishly. If an arm be broken, they do not send for the divine afflatus man, who has been idly awaiting a crisis. No, a man will be called who is educated in surgery. Do they go to sea, they want a pilot who has learned the road, and who knows how to handle the wheel. They will have no engineer who has not served a strict apprenticeship. The use of good language, in good rhetorical order, in good voice, with skilled delivery, is as much the outgrowth of training and - education, as is the use of scalpel, or plane, or telescope. SLIGHT VOLUME. Exercises. 1. Ah, my boy, you're back again ; it's all right now. Don't you let me go wrong. I want you to tell me just where you're goin' and I'll bear right up for that port. — H. W. JBeecher. 2. I hear it faintly ; louder yet ! What clogs my heavy breath ? Up, all ! and shout for Rudiger. Defiance unto death ! — A. G. Greene. 3. And den I jumped wiv my 'ittle jump-rope, An' I made out of some water an' soap Bootiful worlds, mamma's tastles of hope. — F. B. Smith. 4. " Jessie tired, mamma ; good-night, papa ; Jessie see you in the morning." 5. " I hear you, sir, in the dark, but I'm gropin' — a gropin' — let me catch hold of your hand." (For selection in full, containing slight volume, see " Death of Little Joe," page 100.) 118 NORMAL READER. MO] ERATE VOLUME / 1. The cricket dwells in the cold, cold ground, At the foot of the ohl oak til n . And all through the lengthened autumn night A merry song sings be. — Anonymous. 2. And the name of this Isle is " The Long Ago," And we bury our treasures there; There are brows of beauty and bosoms of snow, There are heaps of dust — Oh! we love them so — And there are trinket- and tresses of hair. — B. F. Taylor. 3. Near In that spring, upon an elm, you know, I cut your name, four sweetheart'.- ju>t beneath it, Tom, and you did mine the Mime; Some heartless wretch has peeled the hark, 'twas dying sure but slow, Just as the died, whose name you out. Borne forty years ago. 4. To supper at last the farmer goes. The apples are pared, the paper read, The stories are told, then all to hed. "Without, the cricket's ceaseless song Makes shrill the silence all night long; The heavv dews are falling. —J. T. Trowbridge, 5. Though rudely blows the wintry blast, And sifting snows fall white and fast, Mark Haley drives along the street, Perched high upon his wagon seat. —J. T. Trowbridge. (See Gray's Elegy, page 161.) FULL VOLUME. Exercises. 1. And rearing Lindis hackward pressed, Shook all her trembling banks amaine, Then madly at the eygre's breast, Flung up her weltering walls again. — Jean Ingelow. THE AET OF DELIVERY. 119 2. And it lashed, and shook, and tore them, Till they thundered, groaned, and boomed, And, alas ! for any vessel In their yawning gulfs entombed. — M. Farmingham. 3. Who sent him to the pit ? Who dragged him down ? Who bound him hand and foot? Who smiled and smiled While yet the hellish work went on? — E. E. Edwards. 4. And the boy ! He has seen the danger, And, shouting a wild alarm, He forces back the weight of the sea With the strength of his single arm. — Phoebe Cary. 5. You do me honor over much ; you have given to the subal- tern all the credit of a superior. There are men engaged in this conspiracy who are not only superior to me, but even to your own conception of yourself, my Lord. — Robert Emmett. (See Apostrophe to the Ocean, page 98.) EATE. In reading and speaking, rate plays an important part. As there may be monotony of tone, and poverty of gesture, so there may be a lulling sameness of rate. A one-rate talk for a few minutes, acts as a powerful narcotic on the listener. We give life and warmth to utterance by the infinite variations of rate. Sentiments of great dignity, of majesty, of pomp- osity, of grandeur, of awe, of solemnity, of heroism, etc., demand deliberate rate. The sentiments before defined as occupying the middle ground, will likewise come under the head of moderate rate. Sentiments of an exciting, of a joyful, of a nervous nature — sentiments showing sudden change of scenery or action, etc., call for rapid delivery. DELIBERATE RATE. Exercises. 1. If the spirits of the illustrious dead participate in the con- cerns and cares of those who are dead to them in this transitory 120 NORMAL READER. life, O, ever dear and venerated shadesof my departed lather, look down with scrutiny upon the conduct of your Buffering son. — Robert Emmett. 2. Henceforward, listen as ire will, The voices of that hearth an- still ; Look where we may, the wide earth o'er. Those lighted {aces unile no more. — Wkittbr. 3. Thou, too, sail on, () ship of St Sail on, Union, Btrongand great! Humanity with all it- fears, With all tlu' ho].. - of future y< 1> hanging breathless on thy fate. —Longfellow. 4. All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow, All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing, All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience! And as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her bosom, Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured, " Father, I thank thee?" —Longfellow. 6. To die, — to sleep;— To sleep!-- perchance to dream— aye, there's the rub! For, in that sleep of death, what dreams may come. When we have shuffled oh" this mortal coil> Must give us pause. —Shakspere. MODERATE RATE. Exercises. 1. But the singer feels it will better suit the ballad, If all >hould deem it right, To tell the story as if what it speaks of Had happened but last night. — F. Wilson. 2. Talk of something that's nobler than living, Of a love that is higher than mine, And faith which has planted its banner Where the heavenly camp-fires shine. — H. L. Bostwick 3. There's a Magical Isle up the river Time, Where the softest of airs are playing, There's a cloudless sky and tropical clime, And a song as sweet as a vesper chime, And the Junes with the roses are straving. —B. F. Taylor. THE ART OF DELIVERY. 121 4. A -sough t-e very where, young girl ; A-future-most fair, young girl ; An ever discreet, We too seldom meet, This-queen-among-queens, young girl. — Virgil A. Pinkley. 5. The heavens declare the glory of God ; and the firmament showeth his handiwork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge. — Bible. RAPID RATE. Exercises. 1. She saw a gallant ship Aflame from deck to topmast, Aflame from stem to stern ; For there seemed no speck ,On all that wreck Where the fierce fire did not burn, 2. Quick, brightening like lightning, it bore me along, Down, down, till the gush of a torrent at play, In the rock of its wilderness caught me — and strong As the wings of an eagle it whirled me away. — Schiller. 3. See how fast you pass that point ! Up with the helm ! Now turn ! Pull hard ! Quick ! Quick ! Quick ! Pull for your lives ! Pull till the blood starts from your nostrils and the veins stand like whip-cords on your brow. — John B. Gough. 4. Morgan's men are coming, Frau ; They're galloping on this way. I'm sent to warn the neighbors. He isn't a mile behind ; He sweeps up all the horses — Every horse that he can find. Morgan, Morgan, the raider, And Morgan's terrible men, With bowie-knives and pistols, Are galloping up the glen. 122 NORMAL READER. 6. " For evil news from Meblethorpe, Of pyrate galleys warping downe: For shippes ashore beyond the Bcorpe, They have not spared to wake thetowne. But while the west bin red to And storms be none, and pyratee flee, Why ring 'The Brides of Enderby.'" — Jean Ingelow. Rate i- the time in which a collection of word- ifl read. QUANTITY. Quantity is time as applied to the utterance of a word or a part of a word. Words which, in themselves, signify continuity, prolongation, immensity, deliberation, gravity, pon- derosity, etc., would be dwelt upon. e. g. } boundless, invincible, infinite, eternal, everlasting, requiem, lin- gering, languishing. There are other word- which, by their very nature, suggest quick quantity, c g. y quick, cut, snap, whip, whirl, jump, run. Words occupying the ground midway between these two extremes should be given moderate quantity. SLIDE. Negation. Weakness. Indefiniteness. Incompleteness. Doubtfuhi' Positiveness. Completion. Determination. Emphasis. Reposefulness. Certainty. { Sarcasm. I Irony. I Contempt. \ Insinuation. Double dealing. ! Humor. [ Tantalization. Upward Slide. Downward Slide. The Combined Slide, Wave or Circumflex THE ART OF DELIVERY. 123 Slide is the most generally abused element in the whole realm of elocution. It is of all the graces of oratory, the most spirituette. After key, and force, and quantity, and rate have done all they can do, in steps slide and gives the finishing touch ; puts upon the entire effort the seal of certainty, and the listener remains no longer in doubt as. to your meaning. PAUSE. A rhetorical pause is one made by the speaker. It is tongue punctuation. By it is made lucid what, otherwise, to the listener would remain meaningless. Rhetorical pauses appeal to the ear. A grammatical pause is one made by the writer or printer. It is pen punctuation. It decides the syntactical relationship of language. It appeals to the eye. CHAPTER VIII. GESTUEE. Gesture is position or motion expressive of thought. Gesture is, to a large degree, anticipative. It should usually serve as a prelude to the voice. By it the listener should be informed of the nature of what is to follow. Thus a speaker may put his audience at the greatest ease, and himself in their highest favor. There are times when the nature of the sentiment demands that gesture shall accompany, and not precede. Again, the sentiments call on gesture to follow it. In the command, " Get thee behind me, Satan ! " a backward, repellant action of the hand should precede the delivery of the words. In this phrase, "On yonder jutting cliff," the action should accompany utterance, and the gesture should reach its culmination as the word "jutting" is reached. 124 Formal reader. To culminate sooner would be premature; a later cul- mination would be inexcusable tardio After the deluge — what*/ After this question may quite properly come a gesture of interrogation in the face and attitude. f Preparation, The p:irt> of a Grestui ( onsummation, In a series of gestures, there is, between prepara- tion and consummation, an impulse at the wrist. After the last consummation in a series comes the first return. As a rule, no discernable pause should be made be- tween the parts of gesture. Sometimes the preparation will carry the hand t-» a very little' height , sometimes to'a great height, and to all points between. " In the rippling Tennessee/' would lift the hand but slightly, while the consummation would bear it a tritie lower in a wave-like movement. The return, in this ease, would follow the sentence. "Lord A.ngus, thou hast lied," would bear the hand to the face in preparation. f Strength, Gestures are made in straight \ Determination, lines to denote: * Emphaaia, Anger, Peevishm [_ Impetuosity. f J °y> Gestures are made in curves to r , e Pf se ' denote: Contentment, trrace, I Beauty, 1 Veneration. Gestures, according to senti- f Conversational, ment, are divided into- ■< Oratoric, (. Dramatic. Conversational Gestures call for a limited are*, of action, and should center at the elbow. Oratoric and Dramatic Gestures pass through a THE ART OF DELIVERY. 125 broad field of movement, and should center at the shoulder. {Unimpassioned, Impassioned, Highly Impassioned. (Passive, Active, Intenselv Active. f Elbow, Pivot of Action, -J Shoulder, ( Shoulder. Given — Conv. Sent, to find the other three. They are: 1. Elbow Action. 2. Unimp. Fac. Exp. 3. Passive Position. Let the instructor experiment with his pupils, until they can readily deduce the three unknown, as soon as the one is known. The only query which will puzzle is this — Given, Shoulder Action, to find the others. They can not tell whether the sentiment calling for such action is Ora- torio or Dramatic, until a second point be given. I will add another, and the pupil, or reader, may find the remaining points. The position required is active. {Upward, or Torrid. Middle, or Temperate. Downward, or Frigid. Upward Zone for Middle Zone for The light, The joyous, The bright, | The animated, t The inspirational. Plain conversation, Plain narration, Unemotional language, Didactic, Historic, Unornamental. ( Determination, | Emphasis, Descending Zone for \ Affirmation, ° j treachery, | Debasement, t Degradation. 126 NORMAL READER. The ascending gesture is used for the location of all objects, real or imaginary, material or ethereal, lying above the middle plane. The middle gesture is used for the location of all objects, real or imaginary, located in the horizontal plane. The descending gesture is used tin- the location of all objects, real or imaginary, lying below the horizontal plane. To the realm of the imagination belong ascending gestures. To the realm of reason belong middle move- ments. To the realm of determination belong descend- ing gestures. Ascension of action for the spiritual. Horizontal action for the moral. Descending action for debase- ment. .- Directions are: f Front, j Oblique, I Lateral, L Oliqne— Backward As a rule, emphasis carries action to the front. Slightly generalizing, would extend the movement obliquely. The greatest breadth is indicated by the full-arm, lateral movement, Remoteness, indistinct- ness, scorn, repulsion, distrust, are shown by the back- ward-oblique action. The gesture takes its name from its termination. If it ends at the side it is lateral. If it ends upward it is ascending. It may flourish never so much, but terminating in the middle plane it is a horizontal gesture. THE HEAD. The movements of the head should not be perpetual. THE EYE. {Concentric— inward, Normal, Eccentric — outward. THE ART OF DELIVERY. 127 THE LIPS. {Concave, Normal, Convex. f Determination, Concave Lips, j f ^ [Physical pain. {Repose, Contentment, Passivity. f Pouting, Convex Lips. I Petulency, I Disgust. THE FINGERS. f Rigid, Condition of. j *^ t Apart. ( Fright, Rigid in. \ Abhorrence, ( Repulsion. f Sorrow, Eelaxedin.^— * {_ Resignation. f Fright, Anart in J Intensit 7> Apart in. • Burial, Pr0nein ' Limitation. Degradation, Super-position. {Attraction, Adoration, Repulsion. THE ARM. {Localizing, Describing, Emphasizing. A single arm movement may combine all three, e. g., " On yonder jutting cliff." By the direction of the in- dex-finger on the word "jutting" we locate the cliff. By the jutting of the finger, a description of the cliff is made. The strength of the gesture conveys emphasis. Any two of these purposes may be exemplified by a single gesture, e. g., " The ring-dove's notes were mingled THE AET OF DELIVERY. 129 with the rippling Tennessee." The extended arm will locate the river, and the vibratory action will illustrate the rippling of the waters. A single purpose may be served by a single gesture ; e. g., "See that horse." The index-finger in this case simply locates. Gestures are {gi-P^ The examples above belong to the class of Simple Gestures. An admirable illustration of the compound or Serial Gesture is the following: " On yonder jutting cliff, overtaken there by the mountain blast, I've laid me flat along, and while gust followed gust, more furiously, as if to sweep me o'er the horrid brink, and I have thought of other lands, whose storms were summer flaws to those of mine, and just have wished me there, the thought that mine was free has checked that wish, and I have raised my head," etc. ANALYSIS. On the word "jutting" the index-finger movement culminates; when the word "flat" is uttered the hand has opened and lies prone in the ascending plane. "And while gust" moves the hand from its position to the left and back to position, with a sweeping ac- tion. " Followed gust " calls for the last gesture em- phasized. "More furiously," a re-repetition, with ad- ditional emphasis. "As if to sweep me o'er the horrid brink," with the right hand same movement as before, while the left joins it in its final forward sweep, the fingers of both hands somewhat curved and pendant, as though conscious of the peril beyond. "And I have thought of other lands," both hands brought to a lateral-supine position. "Whose storms are summer flaws," both hands prone, lifted horizontally and pushed forward and aside. "And just have wished me 9 130 NORMAL READER. there," a continuation of the last into a supinv for- ward, longing movement of both hands. " The thought that mine was free," an ascending flight with both hands, climaxing in "free." "Has checked," both hands clinched and driven downward. "And I have raised my head" — at this point the hands return to rest for the first time since their initial movement. We have what is called flight of the voice. On such occasions, if gestures are demanded, they must keep exact pace with the vocal flight, and the two must culminate simultaneously. LOWEB ].: Right foot advanced bearing the weight. Left " Right " retired " " " Left " Both feet bearing the weight — {Enthusiasm, Solicitude, Secrecy, Persuasion. f Dignity, | Haughtiness, The retired foot bears the weight in -\ Defiance, Independence, Repulsion. f Repose, Both feet bear the weight in Equilibrium ° Contentment, [ Unemotional sentiments. SPECIAL GESTURES. These come under no law and are intuitional. A few instances will suffice to call to mind a multitude. The stamping of the foot — the wringing of the hands — the shrugging of the shoulders — the winking of the eye — the tossing of the head. THE ART OF DELIVERY. 131 DELSARTE'S SYSTEM OF GESTURE. Loud claims, made by a few instructors in the country, are heard running thus: "I teach the Del- sarte System of Gesture;" " Prof. 'So and So ? is the only teacher of the Delsarte System of Gesture." The probabilities are, that those who make such claims, know as little, and teach as little of the great Delsarte, as those who are valiant enough to have a system of gesture of their own, drawn from all available sources. Delsarte, like many who preceded, and many who shall follow, was of human origin, and could doubtless say, in common with us all, "to err is human." His "Art of Oratory " is a highly original work, and well worth more than a single perusal. After noting a few, at least seeming, contradictions in his work, we will make a condensed summary of his most valuable "System of Gesture." SEEMING ABSURDITIES. " If a friend promises me a service with his thumb drawn in, he deceives." " Consonants and vowels are gestures." " Force is ahvays opposed to power." The man who was kicked by a mule, thinks this an exception to the above rule. " Mediocre speakers are always trying to enrich their inflections." " If you embrace me without elevating the should- ers, you are a Judas." He might have added : If you embrace me by elevating the shoulders, you are a Jew. " A cry is not a gesture." " A smile is a gesture." "Speech is inferior to gesture." "An audience must not be supposed to resemble an individual." " If we possess nine, we possess twenty millions, which are no more than nine." 132 NORMAL READER. "The shoulder, like all the agent-, has three, benoe nine distinct phases." "Haste is in inverse ratio to emotion." " Silence is the speech of God." So Ie noise. The thunder, no less than the dew-drop, speak- of God, "When a thing is true from one point of view, it is from all." "If a man's shoulders are raised very decidedly, we may know he is decidedly impressed." Perhaps, unless he's a Jew or a Frenchman. "The shoulder is one of the great powers of the orator." Yes, if he be Jew or French. " Liars do not elevate their shoulders t<> the required degree." How can they lie, then? A Jew can raise his shoul- der to the required degree without lying, 1 suppos* Some of the foregoing statements, although startling and original, are entirely too broad; others are abso- lutely absurd. MIR.V "The movements of the eye are between eight and nine hundred." " There are eighty-one movements of the hand im- possible to the face." If one more should ever be discovered or added, it will disarrange Delsarte's — "three and multiples of three" — foundation for everything in oratory. "The head and hand can not act simultaneously to express the same sentiment." " Movement must begin with the face." The infant is master of "four million inflections ere he can speak or gesticulate." The author had, perhaps been walking the floor the night before with a "colicky" babe. " There are precisely four million movements of the different agents of the arm." Although he uses the word precisely, one gesture, more or less, would not materially affect the estimate. THE AET OF DELIVERY. 133 CONTRADICTIONS. "But one gesture is needed for the expression > of au entire thought." " When there are two gestures in the same idea, one of them must come before the proposition ; the other in its midst." f "Gesture must always precede speech." \ \ " The other gesture in its midst." j {"Men of small brain habitually carry their ^j heads high." I "Soldiers and men of robust physique carry | their heads high." j ( "A demonstration of affection is not made with '\ < a forward movement." V ( "The hand extends toward the beloved object." J SYNOPSIS OF DELSAETE ON GESTURE. Man says what he feels by inflection, what he loves by gesture, what he thinks by words. Gesture must be studied. Gesture has brought joy to thousands of deaf mutes. Gesture is the direct agent of the heart, the inter- preter of speech. Gestrue and inflection should har- monize. Sound is gesture of the larynx. Consonants and vowels are gestures of the mouth. Gestures are the product of the myological apparatus. Gestures, not ideas, move the masses. Gesture is magnetic; speech is not. Gesture is anticipative; it makes lis- tening easy. Gesture suggests ; speech confirms. The sense is not in the words, it is in the inflection and gesture. When one speaks to others he advances; when to himself he recedes. f Contemplation, I Soliloquy, Retroaction in \ Distrust, Fear, Disgust. 134 NORMAL READER. (Aggressiveness, n p ion, Salutation, Inquisitiveness. In portraying sentiment, to carry the hand to the heart is oratorical crime. {Static, Dynamic, Bemiotic. The Static treats of Laws of Gesture Priority, Retroaction, ( Opposition of Forces, Unity, Stability, Rythrn. Opposition of Forces for Equilibrium. The man of intellect gestures with the head. The man of soul gestures with the shoulders. The man of vital temperament gestures with hid arms. Gesture should be so easy and truthful as to attract no attention. The suspension or prolongation of a movement is one of the great sources of effect. One effect must not counteract another. Without knowledge of law incoherence is inevitable, hence rules are indispensable. When the principles are known, each one must apply them in accordance with his own idea. There is no freedom outside of law. Without law we could learn only by imitation. f Head, The Dynamic Apparatus is -J Torso, ( Limbs. {Concentric, Normal, Eccentric. C Resignation, Concentric Head, i j)^]^ 10 ' [_ Shame. THE ART OF DELIVERY. 135 {Repose, Contentment, Equilibrium. Eccentric Head. - Interrogation, Hope, Desire, Vehemence, Defiance, Exaltation, {Vision, Pupil, Eye-brow. {Concentric, Normal, Eccentric. Concentric, or lowered in -[ f^arrassment, Repulsion, Retention, Embarrass [ Soliloquy. f Contentment, i i Candor, Normal, U nnocencv> [ Generosity. {Surprise, Exaltation, Interrogation. f Concave, Face.-^ Upright, (. Convex. {Chastity, Guilelessness, Timidity. {Honesty, Faith, Directness. f Sensualism, Convex or Eccentric Face.-! A , ., . w j Ambitiousness, Boldness, I Ambitiouniicoci, t Self-sufficiency. 136 NoKMAI. READEB. {Genal, Buccal, Frontal. Vital Temperament, Genal or Chin Zone. ' f Vital Tc J Agility, \ Vim. {Morality, Tempera ten ess, Equipoise f Intellectual, Frontal or Forehead Zone, ftfe?} 1 ^ Logical, t Mental. (Thoracic, Epigastric, Abdominal. Tu, nn ; n B a i* /Intellectual, Ihoracic Belt. | Moral Epigastric Be., { IXir'' Abdominal Belt. {gJV, {Concentric, Normal, Eccentric. f Grief, Concentric, or Collapsed Chest. < Fright, ( Secrecy. {Conversational, Unemotional, Reposeful. f Energy, Eccentric, or Inflated Chest. \ D°™* nd ' [ Defiance. The eccentric or convex chest is the sign of one who gives. THE AET OF DELIVEEY. 137 The concentric or concave chest is the sign of one who receives. f Fingers, | Hand, | Wrist, Movements of tile Arm are : ■{ Elbow, | Fore-arm, | Shoulder, [_ Full-arm. {Concentric, Normal, Eccentric, The wrist is concentric when the extensor muscles are in action. The wrist is normal when at rest. The wrist is eccentric when the flexor muscles are in action. {Dorsal aspect, Palmer aspect, Digital aspect. {Innocence, Respect, Repose. {Reflection, Concentration Independence , 3. Weight upon the advanced | Caution"' 6 ' Lower Limbs. ( Secrecy. {Exhaustion, Opposition, Stability. 5. Feet parallel. {™fence. 6. One foot behind the other. { g^ffi. Gesture is the melody of the eye. Inflection is the melody of the ear. Speech is the crown of oratorical action. Speech elucidates and justifies gesture. The face first suggests. Gesture confirms the face. Speech clinches both. P. S. While this synopsis is founded on the system 138 NORMAL READER. of Delsarte, the arrangement of the material is mine, and the writer has taken the liberty to make many ad- ditions. For selections on which to drill in Gesture, see " Speech of Cassius," " Hamlet's Soliloquy," " On the Shores of Tennessee," and " The Battle of Ivry." A FEW REFLECTIONS. With these the writer closes the chapter and this di- vision of the work. The grandest gift of God to man is — voice. The voice in speech is power, than which there is none other so potent. At the summit of human achievement towers eloquence. The king of arts is Oratory. Would you convince the judgment, control the conscience, guide the heart — the voice is the royal road thereto. TO MINISTERS. To the eye his manner appeals. To the ear his voice appeals. The eye and the ear are the outposts to the riches of the spiritual world within. How 7 important, then, that clergymen should give at- tention to speech and action. No man has any moral right to iiillict upon an au- dience a ragged, jagged, diluted voice. No leader of the people can righteously neglect his pronunciation, or articulation, or grammatical construction, or rhe- torical arrangement. Emotion, sympathy, sincerety, soul — better to have these and lack the art, than to possess the highest art and be deficient in these. Far better yet, to combine them all. Europe has her culture, her refinement, her schools of elocution and dramatic art. America will not fail to put herself abreast the times. THE ART OF DELIVERY. 139 TO LAWYERS. This is a practical age. One of the first questions is, " Will it pay?" In the legal profession, the art of Delivery carries with it so great and patent a money value that 'twere idle to discuss the question. The houses of Congress know this, and her leading mem- bers act accordingly. Prominent lawyers in every large city know this, and their success is largely due to their attention to details of delivery. The country at large is rapidly realizing the same fact, and the demand for master instructors in the art is growing great. Salesmen are learning this, and the increased skill with which they handle their wares is the sequel. Auctioneers have learned the same and thrive, phys- ically and financially, therefrom. Boole and Beecher, of .Brooklyn ; Blaine, of Maine, and our orators of greatest power, the country over, are not so much the possessors of supernatural gifts, as they are men endowed with the genius of industry and modesty that makes them learners. With no exception, they have given careful attention to the " little things" that constitute the cultured speaker. Good ground and good seed, are not enough to grow a bountiful harvest. The manner of its sowing is of no little moment. Drop the grain in a heap, and it smoth- ers out its own life, through the richness of its profu- sion. Profound knowledge is of little worth, except as it may be made communicable to others. SOME OBJECTIONS THAT ARE OFFERED. " I have a weak throat which is in constant irrita- tion," says one. Then, I would say, quit congesting the throat and put the labor of speech on the body muscle. Rest is the great restorative. The throat will thus get well. 140 NORMAL READER. "I am troubled with my Lungs," says another. Whisper in his ear this fact — there is no relief so >ure as through deep inspiration of pure air and right use of the voice in singing and in speech. Does he tell you he is timid? 'Fell him he is fortu- nate. Timidity, impetuosity, imagination, soul, are the four corner stones <»f successful speech. When they are put under the dominion of an intelligent spirit they are irresistible. If he tells you he can not afford it, tell him he can not afford to neglect it. It pays to prepare for broader usefulness. Every dollar so expended is a seed dropped into good ground that will bear an hundred-fold. Are you told that it is a gift of nature, and is pres- ent at birth? Nature presents us at birth with an av- erage of less than eight pounds avoirdupois, and a brain almost blank. From that moment all is acquisition. Inclination, adaptation, may be a God-given inherit- ance, but what we shall grow to, or become, is a prob- lem left for each one to solve for himself. We may be born with capacity, but not with con- tents. Hence the need of training and of culture; of imitation of the good, and not the bad. Does he ex- claim, " Be natural." If he means be correct, be God- like, — we subscribe. If he means be natural in the sense in which Indians, swine, knots on a tree, ex- crescences on the body, are natural, — we object. If he means a naturalness that is the outgrowth of ignorance and indolence, we object. Native simplicity is a charming quality, when based on right. Natural- ness, in its higher sense, is something to be sought, and, wdien found in accord with law, its unconsciousness stamps upon it the highest type of naturalness. He deceives himself w r ho thinks he may daily drawl his words ; speak unseemly English ; outrage diction, pro- nunciation, articulation ; live in ignorance of dignified THE AET OF DELIVEY. 141 Ob graceful action, and, then, when the crises come, be able to do all things well under present pressure. Do these things right, habitually, and, in the heat of im- passioned speech, they will unconsciously take care of themselves. He, only, who does this, can afford to become self- forgetful. The infant learns to walk after many falls and squalls. A man with empty hands may fail to lift a weight ; with a lever the thing may be easily done. The voice is the weight to be lifted ; but with a strained, congested throat, and idle waist, if lifted at all, it is with dire dis- tress. Given ; — a leverage on the muscles of the waist, and the work is done with ease and grace. Ninety-nine of every hundred will analyze more cor- rectly than they can execute. The intellect says, " that passage should be read in low key." Voice says "cant." Elocutionary training cuts off the "t" and "can" remains. This gives us a glimpse of the value of vocal culture. There are those who say, "We will read some work on elocution and save tuition!" One might read all that has ever been written on swimming, and thereafter drown on the first exposure to water. Instruction from the lips of the living, is essential to the understanding and right application of what is found in the books. There are a multitude of little defects, of which we should never become conscious, save through the candid criticism of some one who is employed to observe and make them known. If an inferior or a peer should observe, and volun- tarilly tell us of them, we would repel or reproach them for their hardihood. It requires all our grace, to accept them at the hands of an acknowledged leader. Hoping that, through what has been written, many may add to their physical, mental, moral, and spiritual store, the writer modestly subscribes himself. Virgil A. Pinkley. Cincinnati, 0., Nov. 28, 1883. PART V. SELECTIONS OF PROSE AND POETRY. FOKTY YEAKS AGO. I've wandered to the village, Tom, I've sat beneath the tree, Upon the school-house playing-ground, That sheltered you and me ; But none were left to greet me, Tom, And few were left to know, "Who played with us upon the green Just forty years ago. The grass was just as green, Tom, Barefooted boys at play, Were sporting just as we did then, "With spirits just as gay. But master sleeps upon the hill, Which, coated o'er with snow, Afforded us a sliding-place Some forty years ago. The old school-house is altered some, The benches are replaced By new ones, very like the same Our jack-knives had defaced; But the same old bricks are in the wall, And the bell swings to and fro, Its music's just the same, dear Tom, 'Twas forty years ago. The boys were playing some old games Beneath that same old tree; I do forget the name just now — You've played the same with me (143) 144 NORMAL READER. On that same spot; 'twas played with knives By throwing so and so; The loser had a task to do There forty years ago. The river's running just as stili, The willows on its side Are larger than they were, Tom ; The stream appears less wide; But the grapevine swing is missing now, Where once we played the beau, And swung our sweethearts — pretty girls- Just forty years ago. The spring that babbled 'neath the hill, Close by the spreading beach, Is very low ; 'twas once so high That we could scarcely reach; And kneeling down to take a drink, Dear Tom. I started bo, To think how very much I've changed Since forty years ago. Near by the spring upon an elm, You know I cut your name, Your sweatheart's just beneath it, Tom, And you did mine the same. Some heartless wretch had peeled the bark; 'Twas dying sure but slow, Just as she died whose name you cut There forty years ago. My lids have long been dry, Tom, But tears came in my eyes; I thought of her I loved so well, Those earthly broken ties. I visited the old church-yard, And took some flowers to strew Upon the graves of those we loved Just forty years ago. Some are in the church-yard laid, Some sleep beneath the sea ; But none are left of our old class Excepting you and me. And when our time shall come, Tom, And we are called to go, I hope we'll meet with those we loved Some forty years ago. SELECTIONS. 145 ANNABEL LEE. It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there 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. 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 kinsmen came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half 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-time, I lie down by the side Of my darling — my darling — my life and my bride, In the sepulchre there by the sea, In her tomb by the sounding sea. — Edgar A. Poe. 10 146 NORMAL READER. IF WE KNEW. If we knew the woe and heartache Waiting for us down the road, If our lips could taste the wormwood, If our backs could feel the load ; Would we waste the day in wishing For a time that ne'er can be? Would we wait with such impatience For our ship to come from sea? If we knew the baby fingers Pressed against the window pane, Would be cold and stiff to-morrow, Never trouble us again; Would the bright eyes of our darling Catch the frown upon our brow? Would the print of rosy fingers Vex us then as they do now? Ah, these little ice-cold fingers! How they point our memories back To the hasty words and actions Strewn along our backward track ' How these little hands remind us, As in snowy grace they lie, Not to scatter thorns, but roses, For our reaping by and by. Strange we never prize the music Till the sweet-voiced bird has flown ; Strange that we should slight the violets Till the lovely flowers are gone ; Strange that summer skies and sunshine Never seem one-half so fair, As when winter's snowy pinions Shake their white down in the air. Let us gather up the sunbeams, Lying all around our path ; Let us keep the wheat and roses, Casting out the thorns and chaff; Let us find our sweetest comfort In the blessings of to-day ; With the patient hand removing All the briars from our way. — Anon. SELECTIONS. 147 ROCK OF AGES. " Rock of ages cleft for me," Thoughtlessly the maiden sung ; Fell the words unconsciously From the girlish, gleeful tongue ; Sang as little children sing ; Sang as sing the birds of June ; Fell the words as light leaves down On the current of the tune. " Rock of ages cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee." " Rock of ages cleft for me," 'Twas a woman sung them now, Pleadingly and prayerfully, Every word her heart did know, Rose the song as storm tossed bird Beats with weary wing the air, Every note with sorrow stirred, Every syllable a prayer. " Rock of ages cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee." " Rock of ages cleft for me," Lips grown aged sung the hymn, Trustingly and tenderly Voice grown weak and eyes grown dim> " Let me hide myself in Thee." Trembling though the voice and low, Ran the sweet strain peacefully, Like a river in its flow, Sang as only they can sing Who life's thorny path have pressed, Sang as only they can sing Who behold the promised rest, " Rock of ages cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee." u Rock of ages cleft for me," Sung above a coffin lid ; Underneath all restfully, All life's joys and sorrows hid ; Nevermore, O, storm-tossed soul ! Nevermore from wind or tide, Nevermore from billows roll Wilt thou need thyself to hide. Could the sightless sunken eyes, Closed beneath the soft gray hair, 148 NORMAL READER. Could the mute and stiffened lips Move again in pleading prayer? Still, aye, still, the words would be, " Let me hide mvself in Thee. — Annce we watched it through a fever, and with each gasping breath, Dumb with an awful, word re waited for its death; And, though I'm not a pious man, our souls together there, Pot Heaven to spare our darling, went up in voiceless prayer. And when the dndor v ;1 Jd 'twould live, our 103* what words could n? Clasped in each other's arms, our grateful tears together fell Sometimes, you see, the shadow : our little nest, But it only made the sunshine seem a doubly welcome guest. W irk came to me a plenty, and I kept the anvil ringing; Early and late you'd find me there a hammering and singing; Love nerved my arm to labor, and moved my tongue to song, And though my singing wasn't sweet, it was tremendous strong! One day a one-armed stranger stopped to have me nail a shoe, And while T was at work, we passed a compliment or two; I asked him how he lost his arm. He said 'twas shot away At Malvern Hill. "At Malvern Hill ! Did you know Eobert May?" " That's me," said he. " You, you ! " I gasped, choking with hor- rid doubt ; u If you're the man, just follow me; we'll try this mystery out!" With dizzy steps, I led him to Mary. God! 'Twas true! Then the bitterest pangs of misery, unspeakable, I knew. Frozen -with deadly horror, she stared with eyes of stone, And from her quivering lips there broke one wild, despairing moan. 'Twas he ! the husband of her youth, now risjen from the dead, But all too late — and with bitter cry, her senses fled. What could be done? He was reported dead. On his return He strove in vain some tidings of his absent wife to learn. 'Twas well that he was innocent! Else I'd 've killed him, too, So dead that he never would have riz till Gabriel's trumpet blew! It was agreed that Mary then between ns should decide, And each by her decision would sacredly abide. No sinner, at the judgment-seat, waiting eternal doom, Could suffer what I did, while waiting sentence in that room, SELECTIONS. 175 Eigid and breathless, there we stood, with nerves as tense as steel, While Mary's eyes sought each white face, in piteous appeal. God ! could not woman's duty be less hardly reconciled Between her lawful husband and the father of her child ! Ah, how my heart was chilled to ice, when she knelt down and said : " Forgive me, John! He is my husband ! Here! Alive! not dead!" I raised her tenderly, and tried to tell her she was right, But somehow, in my aching breast the prisoned words stuck tight ! " But, John, I can't leave baby"— "What ! wife and child!" cried I ; " Must I yield all ! Ah, cruel fate ! better that I should die. Think of the long, sad, lonely hours, waiting in gloom for me — No wife to cheer me with her love — no babe to climb my knee ! "And yet — you are her mother, and the sacred mother love Is still the purest, tenderest tie that Heaven ever wove. Take her, but promise, Mary — for that will bring no shame — My little girl shall bear, and learn to lisp her father's name ! " It may be, in the life to come, I'll meet my child and wife ; But yonder, by my cottage gate, we parted for this life ; One long hand-clasp from Mary, and my dream of love was done ! One long embrace from baby, and my happiness was gone ! — Frank Olive. THE FALL OF THE PEMBERTON MILL. The silent city slumbered. The day broke softly ? the snow melted and the wind blew warm from the river. Sene was a little dizzy that morning Del Ivory, working beside her, said: "How the mill shakes ! What's going on ? " " It's the new machinery they're putting in below/' observed the overseer, carelessly. At noon Sene was out with her dinner, found a place on the stairs away from the rest, and sat there with her eyes upon the river, thinking. In the afternoon Sene said : u Del, I think to-mor- row "—she stopped. Something strange happened to her frame ; it jarred, buzzed, snapped, the thread un- twisted and flew out of place. 176 NORMAL READER. "Curious," she said, and looked up — looked up to see her overseer turn wildly; to hear a shriek from Del that froze her blood ; to see the solid ceiling gape above her; to see the walls and windows stagger; to S& iron pillars reel, and vast machinery throw up its giant arms, and a tangle of human faces blanch and writhe! She Bprang as the floor Bank. As pillar after pillar gave way, she bounded up an inclined plane, with the gulf yawning alter her. It gained upon her, leaped at her, caught her : she threw out her arms and struggled on with hands and knees, tripped in the gear- ing and fell. .1/ t(n minute* before f Tuesday, the tenth of January j the ]*< mberton Mill, all of the seven hundred and fifty hands being at that time on duty, fell to the ground. At ten minutes before five, Sene's father heard what he thought to be the rumble of an earth- quake under his very feet, and stood with bated breath waiting for the crash. As nothing further appeared to happen, he took his stick and limped out into the street. A crowd surged through it from end to end. "Women with white lips were counting the mills — Pa- cific, Atlantic, Washington — Pemberton. Where was Pemberton? Where Pemberton had blazed with its lamps last night, and hummed with its iron lips, this evening a cloud of dust — black, silent, horrible — now puffed a hundred feet into the air. Asenath opened her eyes after a time. Beautiful green and purple lights had been dancing about her. The church clocks were striking "eight/' One of her fingers she saw was gone ; it was the finger which held Dick's little engagement ring. A broad piece of floor- ing, that had fallen slantwise, roofed her in, and saved her from the mass of iron-work overhead. Some one whom she could not see was dying just behind her. A little girl who worked in her room — a mere child — was crying, between her groans, for her mother. Del Ivory sat in a little open space, cushioned about with SELECTIONS. 177 reels of cotton ; she had a shallow gash upon her cheek ; she was wringing her hands. They were at work from the outside, sawing entrances through the labyrinth of planks. A dead woman lay close by, and Sene saw them draw her out. The other side of the slanting flooring some one prayed aloud. She had a little baby at home ; she was asking God to take care of it for her, "for Christ's sake," she said. Sene listened long for the " amen," but it was never spoken. Del cried presently that they were cutting them out. The glare of the bonfire struck through an opening ; saws and axes flashed, voices grew distinct. The opening broad- ened, brightened ; the sweet night wind blew in ; the clear night sky shone through. Sene's heart leaped within her. Out in the wind and under the sky she should stand again after all. She worked her head from under the beam and raised herself up on her el- bow. At that moment she heard a cry — " Fire ! fire ! God Almighty" help them ! The ruins are on fire!" A man had dropped a candle and the ruins were on fire. That was at nine o'clock. What there was to be seen, from then till morning, could never be forgot- ten. A network, twenty feet high, of rods, of beams, pillars, stairways, roofing, ceiling, walling ; wrecks of looms, shafts, bobbins, mules — locked and intertwined ; wrecks of human creatures wedged in ; a face that you knew, turned up at you from some pit, which twenty- four hours' hewing could not open ; a voice you knew crying after you from God knows where ; a mass of long fair hair visible here, a foot there ; three fingers of a hand over there; charred limbs and helpless trunks tossed about ; the little yellow jet that flared up, and died in smoke, and flared again, leaped out, licked the cotton bales, tasted the old machinery, crunched the netted wood, danced on the heaped-up stone, threw its cruel arms high into the night, roared for joy at helpless firemen, and swallowed wreck, 12 178 NORMAL READER. death and life together out of your sight — the lurid things stand alone in the gallery of tragedy. The child who had called for her mother began to sob out that Bhe was afraid to die alone. "Come here, Mollie, ' said Bene ; "can you crawl around?" Molly crawled around. "Put your head in my lap, and your arms about my waisl — so, there." But they had not given them up yet. In the still unburned rubbish at the right, some one had wrenched an opening within a foot of Sene'e face. They clawed at the solid iron pintles like savage things. A fire- man fainted in the smoke. " Give it up ! w cried the crowd from behind. " It can't be done ! fall back" — then hushed, awe-struck. An old man was crawling along on his hands and knees over the heated bricks. He was a very old man. His gray hair blew about in the wind. It was Sene's father. "I want my little girl !" he said. "Can't anybody tell me where to find my little girl?" A rough fellow pointed in perfect silence through the smoke. "I'll have her out yet. I am an old man, but I can help. Hand me that dipper of water ; it'll keep her from choking, maybe. Now, keep cheery, Sene, your old father'll get you out. Keep up good heart, child. That's it." " It's no use, father. Don't feel so bad, father. I don't mind it very much." He hacked at the timber ; he tried to laugh ; he bewildered himself with his cheerful words. " No more ye needn't, Senath ; for it'll be over in a minute. Don't be downcast yet. We'll have ye safe at home before ye know it. Drink a little more water ; do now. They'll get at ye now, sure." But out above the crackle and the roar a woman's voice rang like a bell : " We're going home to die no more." SELECTIONS. 179 A child's notes quivered in the chorus. From sealed and unseen graves white young lips swelled the glad refrain : " We're going, going home." The crawling smoke turned yellow, turned red ; voice after voice broke and hushed utterly. One only sang on like silver. It flung defiance down at death. It chimed into the lurid sky without a tremor. For one stood beside her in the furnace, and his form was like unto the form of the Son of God. Why should not Asenath sing? " 'Senath," cried the old man, out upon the burning bricks; he was scorched now from his gray hair to his patched boots. The answer came triumphantly, " To die no more, no more, no more." . "Sene, little Sene!" Some one pulled him back, and her spirit went up in the flames. — Elizabeth Stuart Phelps. UNCLE DANIEL'S INTKODUCTION TO A MISSISSIPPI STEAMEE. Whatever the lagging, dragging journey may have been to the rest of the emigrants, it was a wonder and delight to the children, a world of enchantment; and they believed it to be peopled with the mysterious dwarfs and giants and goblins that figured in the tales the negro slaves were in the habit of telling them nightly by the shuddering light of the kitchen fire. At the end of nearly a week of travel the party went into camp near a shabby village which was cav- ing, house by house, into the hungry Mississippi. The river astonished the children beyond measure. Its mile-breadth of water seemed an ocean to them, in the shadowy twilight, and the vague riband of trees 180 NORMAL READER. on the further shore the verge of a continent which surely none but they had ever seen before. " Uncle Dan'l " (colored), aged 40, his wife, "aunt Jinny," aged 30, "Young Miss" Emily Haw kin-, "Young Mars" Washington Hawkins and "Young Mars" Clay, the new member of the family, ranged themselves on a log, after supper, and contemplated the marvellous river and discussed it. The moon rose and sailed aloft through a maze of shredded cloud-wreaths ; the sombre river just perceptively brightened under the veiled light; a deep silence pervaded the air and was emphasized, at intervals, rather than broken, by the hooting of an owl, the baying of a dog, or the muffled crash of a caving bank in the distance. The little company assembled on the log were all children (at least in simplicity and broad and compre- hensive ignorance). Their voices were subdued to a low and reverent tone. Suddenly Uncle Dan'l exclaimed : "Chil'en, dah's sumfin a comin'!" All crowded close together and every heart beat fas- ter. Uncle Dan'l pointed down the river with his bony finger. A deep coughing sound troubled the stillness, way to- ward a wooded cape that jutted into the stream a mile distant. All in an instant a fierce eye of fire shot out from behind the cape and sent a long brilliant pathway quivering athwart the dusky water. The coughing grew louder and louder, the glaring eye grew larger and still larger, glared wilder and still wilder. A huge shape developed itself out of the gloom, and from its tall duplicate horns dense volumes of smoke, starred and spangled with sparks, poured out and went tumbling away into the farther darkness. Nearer and nearer the thing came. " What is it ? Oh ! what is it, Uncle Dan'l ? " With deep solemnity the answer came : " It's de Almighty ! Git down on yo' knees ! " It was not necessary to say it twice. They were all SELECTIONS. 181 kneeling in a moment. And then the negro's voice lifted up its supplications : "O Lord, we's ben mighty wicked, an' we knows dat we 'zerve to go to de bad place, but good Lord, deah Lord, we ain't ready yit — let dese po' chil'en hab one mo' chance. Take de ole niggah if you's got to hab somebody. O Lord, spah de little chil'en, don't tar de little chil'en away f'm dey frens, and take it out'n de old niggah. Heah I is, Loed, heah I is ! De ole niggah's ready, Lord, de ole — " The flaming and churning steamer was right abreast the party, and not twenty steps away. The awful thun- der of a mud- valve suddenly burst forth, drowning the prayer, and as suddenly Uncle Dan'l snatched a child under each arm and scoured into the woods with the Test of the pack at his heels. And then, ashamed of himself, he halted in the deep darkness and shouted (but rather feebly) : "Heah I is, Lord, heah I is ! " There was a moment of throbbing suspense, and then, to the surprise and comfort of the party, it was plain that the august presence had gone by, for its dreadful noises were receding. " Well, now dey's some folks say day aint no 'ficiency in prah. Dis chile would like to know whah we'd a ben now if it warn't fo' dat prah ? Dat's it ! " " Uncle Dan'l, do you reckon it was the prayer that saved us?" said Clay. " Does I reckon ? Don't I know it ! Whah was yo' eyes ? Warn't de Lord jes' a comin' chow! chow! chow ! an' a goin' on turrible — an' do the Lord carry on dat way 'dout dey's sumfin don't suit him? An' warn't he a lookin' right at dis gang heah, an' warn't he jes' a reachin' for 'em ? An' d'you spec' he gwine to let 'em off 'dout somebody ast him to do it ? No indeedy ! " "Do you reckon he saw us, Uncle Dan'l?" " De law sakes, chile, didn't I see him a lookin' at us?" 182 NORMAL READER. " Did you feel scared, Uncle Dan'l ? " " No sah ! When a man is 'gaged in prah, he aint 'fraid o' nuffin — day can't nuffin tetch him." "Well what did you run for?" "Well I — I — Mars Clay, when a man is under de influence ob de sperit, he do-no what he's 'bout. You mo ut take an' tah de head offn dat man an' he would'nt scarcely fine it out. Dah's de Hebrew chil'en dat went frough de fiah ; dey was burnt considable — ob coase dey was; but day didn't know nuffin 'bout it — heal right up again ; if dey'd been gals dey'd missed dey long haah, maybe, but day wouldn't felt de burn." "/don't know but what they were girls. I think they were." " Now, Mars Clay, you knows better'n dat. Some- times a body can't tell whedder you's a savin' what you means or whedder you's a sayin' what you don't mean, 'case you Bays 'em bofe de same way." " But how should / know whether they were boys or girls ? " " Goodness sakes, Mars Clay, don't de good book say? 'Sides, don't it call 'em He-brew chil'en? If dey was gals wouldn't dey be de she-brew chil'en? Some people dat kin read don't 'pear to take notice when dey do read." " Well, Uncle Dan'l, I think that — My ! here comes another one up the river ! There can't be two ! " " We gone dis time — we done gone dis time sho' ! Dey aint two, Mars Clay — dats de same one. Good- ness, how de fire and smoke do belch up ! Dat mean business, honey. He comin' now like fo'got sumfin. Come 'long, chil'en, time you's gwin to roos'. Go 'long wid you — ole Uncle Dan'l gwine out in de woods to rastle in prah — de ole niggah gwine to do w T hat he kin to sabe you again." He did go to the wood and pray, but he went so far that he doubted, himself, if the Lord heard him when he went by. — Clemens and Warner. SELECTIONS. 183 A KAINY DAY. The day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; The vine still clings to the moldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the days are 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 cloud 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. CUEING A COLD. The first time that I began to sneeze, a friend told me to go and bathe my feet in hot water, and go to bed. I did so. Shortly after, a friend told me to get up and take a cold shower-bath. I did that also. Within the hour another friend told me it was policy to feed a cold and starve a fever. I had both ; so I thought it best to fill up for the cold, and let the fever starve awhile. In a case of this kind I seldom do things by halves ; I ate pretty heartily. I conferred my custom upon a stranger who had just opened a restaurant on Cortland street, near the hotel, that morning, paying him so much for a full meal. He waited near me in respectful silence until I had finished feeding my cold, when he inquired whether people about New York were much afflicted with colds. I told him I thought they were. He then went out and took in his sign. I started up toward the office, and on the walk en- countered another bosom friend, who told me that a quart of warm salt-water would come as near curing 184 NORMAL HEADER. a cold as anything in the world. I hardly thought 1 had room for it, but I tried it anyhow. The result was surprising. I believe T threw up my immortal soul. Now, as I give my experience only for the ben- efit of those of my friends who are troubled with this distemper, I feel that they will see the propriety of my cautioning them against following such portions of it as proved inefficient with me ; and acting upon this conviction, I warn them against warm salt-water. It may be a good enough remedy, but I think it is rather too severe. If I had another cold in the head, and there was no course left me — to take either an earth- quake or a quart of warm salt-water, I would take my chances on the earthquake. After this, everybody in the hotel became interested ; and I took all sorts of remedies — hot lemonade, cold lemonade, pepper tea, boneset, stewed Quaker, hoarhound syrup, onions and loaf-sugar, lemons and brown sugar, vinegar and lau- danum, five bottles fir balsam, eight bottles cherry pec- toral, and ten bottles of Uncle Sam's remedy ; but all without effect. One of the prescriptions given by an old lady was — well, it was dreadful. She mixed a de- coction composed of molasses, catnip, peppermint, aqua- fortis, turpentine, kerosene, and various other drugs, and instructed me to take a wineglassful of it every fif- teen minutes. I never took but one dose ; that was enough. I had to take to my bed, and remain there for two entire days. When I felt a little better, more things were recommended. I was desperate, and will- ing to take anything. Plain gin was recommended, and then gin and molasses, then gin and onions. I took all three. I detected no particular result, how- ever, except that I had acquired a breath like a turkey- buzzard, and had to change my boarding place. I had never refused a remedy yet, and it seemed poor policy to commence then ; therefore I determined to take a sheet-bath, though I had no idea what sort of an ar- rangement it was. It was administered at midnight, SELECTIONS. 185 and the weather was frosty. My back and breast were stripped; and a sheet (there appeared to be a thou- sand yards of it), soaked in ice-water was wound around me until I resembled a swab for a columbiad. It is a cruel expedient. When the chilly rag touches one's warm flesh, it makes him start with a sudden violence, and gasp for breath, just as men do in the death-agony. It froze the marrow in my bones, and stopped the beating of my heart. I thought my time had come. When I recovered from this, a friend or- dered the application of a mustard-plaster to my breast. I believe that would have cured me effectually, if it had not been for young Clemens. When I went to bed, I put the mustard-plaster where I could reach it when I should be ready for it. But young Clemens got hungry in the night, and ate it up. I never saw any child have such an appetite. I am confident that he would have eaten me if I had been healthy. — Mark Twain, THE EIDE OF JENNIE McNEAL. Paul Eevere was a rider bold — Well has his valorous deed been told ; Sheridan's ride was a glorious one — Often it has been dwelt upon. But why should men do all the deeds On which the love of a patriot feeds ? Harken to me, while I reveal The dashing ride of Jennie McNeal. On a spot as pretty as might be found In the dangerous length of the Neutral Ground, In a cottage cozy, and all their own, She and her mother lived alone. Safe were the two, with their frugal store, From all of the many who passed their door; For Jennie's mother was strange to fears, And Jennie was large for fifteen years ; With fun her eyes were glistening, Her hair was the hue of a blackbird's wing. And while the friends who knew her well The sweetness of her heart could tell ; 186 NORMAL READER. A gun that hung on the- kitchen wall, Looked solemnly quick to heed her call; And they who were evil-minded km w lit r nerve was Btrongand her aim was true, So all kind words and acts did deal ^ To generous, black-eyed Jennie McNeaL One night, when the sun had crepl to bed, Ami rain clouds lingi red overhead, And aent their pearly drops for proof To dram a tune on the cottage roof, Close after a knock at the outer door, There entered a do/en dragoons or more. Their red coats, stained by the muddy road, That they were British soldier- Bhowed; The captain his hostess bent to ^ r reet, Baying: " Madam, please give us a bit to eat; We will pay you well, and it may be, This bright-eyed ^irl for pouring our tea; Then we must dash ten miles ahead, To catch a rebel colonel abed. He i- visiting home, as doth appear; We will make his pleasure cost him dear." And they fell on the hasty supper with zeal, ( Lose watched the while by Jennie McNeaL For the gray-haired colonel they hovered near, Had been her true friend — kind and dear; And oft, in her younger days, had he Eight proudly perched her upon his knee, And told her stories, many a one Concerning the French war lately done. And oft together the two friends were, And many the arts he taught to her; She had hunted by his fatherly side, He had shown her how to fence and ride ; And once had said, " The time may be Your skill and courage may stand by me." So sorrow for him she could but feel 2 Brave, grateful-hearted Jennie McJSeal. With never a thought or a moment more, Bareheaded she slipped from the cottage door. Ran out where the horses were left to feed, Unhitched and mounted the captain's steed, And down the hilly and rock-strewn way She urged the fiery horse of gray. Around her slender and cloakless form Pattered and moaned the ceaseless storm ; Secure and tight, a gloveless hand Grasped the reins with stern command ; SELECTIONS. 187 And full and black her long hair streamed$ Whenever the ragged lightning gleamed, And on she rushed for the colonel's weal, Hark ! from the hills, a moment mute, Came a clatter of hoofs in hot pursuit ; And a cry from the foremost trooper said ? " Halt ! or your blood be on your head ! " She heeded it not, and not in vain She lashed the horse with the bridle-rein. So into the night the gray horse strode ; His shoes heaved fire from the rocky road c } And the high-born courage, that never dies^ Flashed from his rider's coal-black eyes. The pebbles flew from the fearful race ; The raindrops splashed on her glowing faca "'On — on, brave beast ! " with loud appeal, Cried eager, resolute Jennie McNeal. " Halt ! " once more came the voice of dread ; " Halt ! " or your blood be on your head ! " Then, no one answering to the calls, Shed after her a volley of balls. They passed her in their rapid flight, They screamed to her left, they screamed to her right. But, rushing still o'er the slippery track She sent no token of answer back, Except a silvery laughter-peal, Brave, merry-hearted Jennie McNeal. So on she rushed, at her own good will, Through wood and valley, o'er plain and hill ; The gray horse did his duty well, Till at once he stumbled and fell, Himself escaping the nets of harm, But flinging the girl with a broken arm. Still undismayed by the numbing pain, She clung to the horse's bridle-rein, And gently bidding him to stand, Petted him with her able hand ; Then sprung again to the saddle-bow, And shouted : " One more trial now ! " As if ashamed of the heedless fall, He gathered his strength once more for all. And, galloping down a hillside steep, Gained on the troopers at every leap ; No more the high-bred steed did reel, But ran his best for Jennie McNeal. 188 NORMAL READER. They were a furlong behind or more, When tlif girl burst through the colonel's door, Her poor arm, helpless hanging with pain, And she all drabbled and drenched with rain. But lnr cheeks as red as firebrands are, And her eyes as bright as a blazing star, And shouted : " Quick ! be quick, I say ! They cornel they cornel A.wayl away!" Then sank on the rude white floor of deal. Poor, brave, exhausted Jennie McNeal. The startled colonel Bprungand pressed The wife and children to his breast, And turned away from his fireside bright, And glided into the Btormy night; Then SOOn and safely made his way To where the patriot army lay. But first he bent, in tin- dim firelight, And kissed the forehead broad and white, And blesssed the girl who had ridden so well To keep him out of a prison cell. The girl roused up at the martial din, Just as the troopers came rushing in, And Laughed, e'en in the midst of a moan Saying "Good sirs, your bird has Mown. 'Tis I who have scared him from his nest, So deal with me now as you think best." But the grand young captain bowed, and said— > "Never you hold a moment's dread, Of womanhood I must crown you queen; So brave a girl I have never seen, Wear this gold ring as your valor's due; And when peace comes I will come for you." But Jennie's face an arch smile wore, As she said, " There's a lad in Putman's corps, Who told me the same, long time ago ; You two would never agree, I know, I promised my love to be true as steel," Said 'good, sure-hearted Jennie McNeal. BAKBAEA FKIETCHIE. Up from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn, The clustered spires of Frederick stand, Green-walled by the hills of Maryland. SELECTIONS. 189 Bound about them orchards sweep, Apple and peach tree fruited deep, Fair as a garden of the Lord, To the eyes of the famished rebel horde. On that pleasant morn of the early Fall, When Lee marched over the mountain wall, Over the mountains winding down, Horse and foot, into Frederick town. Forty flags with their silver stars, Forty flags with their crimson bars, Flapped in the morning wind : the sun Of noon looked down, and saw not one. Up rose old Barbara Frietchie, then, Bowed with her four score years and ten j Bravest of all in Frederick town, She took up the flag the men hauled down. In her attic-window the staff she set, To show that one heart was loyal yet. Up the street came the rebel tread, Stonewall Jackson riding ahead. Uuder his slouched hat left and right He glanced : the old flag met his sight. "Halt!" — the dust-brown ranks stood fast; "Fire!"— out blazed the rifle-blast. It shivered the window, pane and sash, It rent the banner with seam and gash. Quick, as it fell from the broken staff, Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf; She leaned far out on the window-sill, And shook it forth with a royal will. " Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, But spare your country's flag," she said, A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, Over the face of the leader came ; The nobler nature within him stirred To life at that woman's deed and wordo " Who touches a hair of yon gray head Dies like a dog ! March on ! " he said. All day long through Frederick street Sounded the tread of marching feet ; 190 NORMAL READEB. All day Long that free flag tossed Over the heads of the rebel I Ever its turn folds rose and fell On the loyal winds that loved it well; And through the hill-gaps sunset light Shone over it with a warm good-ni Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er, And the rebel rides on bis raids no more. Honor to her! and let a tear Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier. Over Barbara Frietchie's grave, Flag of Freedom and Union, wave! Peace and order and beauty draw Round thy symbol of light and law; And ever the stars above look down On thy stars below in Frederick town. —John 0. WTuMier. MAUD MULLER. Maud Muller, on a summer's day, Raked the meadow sweet with hay. Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth Of simple beauty and rustic health. Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee The mock-bird echoed from his tree. But, when she glanced to the far-off town, White from its hill-slope looking down, The sweet song died, and a vague unrest And a nameless longing filled her breast — A wish, that she hardly dared to own, For something better than she had known. The Judge rode slowly down the lane, Smoothing his horse's chestnut mane. He drew his bridle in the shade Of the apple-trees, to greet the maid, And ask a draught from the spring that flowed Through the meadow across the road. SELECTIONS. 191 She stooped where the cool spring bubbled up, And filled for him her small tin cup, And blushed as she gave it, looking down On her feet so bare, and her tattered gown. " Thanks ! " said the Judge, " a sweeter draught From a fairer hand was never quaffed." He spoke of the grass and flowers and trees, Of the singing birds and humming bees ; Then talked of the haying, and wondered whether The cloud in the west would bring foul weather. And Maud forgot her briar-torn gown, And her graceful ankles bare and brown ; And listened, while a pleased surprise Looked from her long-lashed hazel eyes. At last, like one who for delay Seeks a vain excuse, he rode away, Maud Muller looked and sighed : "Ah, me ! That I the Judge's bride might be ! " He would dress me up in silks so fine, And praise and toast me at his wine. " My father should wear a broadcloth coat ; My brother should sail a painted boat. " I'd dress my mother so grand and gay, And the baby should have a new toy each day. "And I'd feed the hungry and clothe the poor, And all should bless me who left our door." The Judge looked back as he climbed the hill, And saw Maud Muller standing still. "A form more fair, a face more sweet, Ne'er hath it been my lot to meet. "And her modest answer and graceful air Show her wise and good as she is fair. " Would she were mine, and I to-day, Like her, a harvester of hay : " No doubtful balance of rights and wrongs, Nor weary lawyers with endless tongues, 192 NORMAL READER. " But low of cattle, and song of bird-. And health, and quiet, and Loving words." But he thought of hi- Bisters, proud and cold, And his mother, vain ol ber rank and gold. So, closing his heart, the Judge rode on, And Maud was left in the field alone. But the lawyers smiled thai afternoon, When he hummed in court an old love-tune; And the young girl mused beside the well, Till the rain on the unraked clover fell. Be wedded a wife of richest dower, Who lived for fashion, as he for power. Yel oft, in his marble hearth's bright glow, He watched a picture come and go: And sweet Maud Muller's haze 1 eyes Looked out in their innocent surprise. Oft when the wine in his glass was red, He longed for the wayside well instead ; And closed his eyes on his garnished rooms, To dream of meadows and clover-blooms. And the proud man sighed, with a secret pain, "Ah, that I were free again ! "Free as when I rode that day, Where the barefoot maiden raked, her hay." She wedded a man unlearned and poor, And many children played round her door. But care and sorrow, and childbirth pain, Left their traces on heart and brain. And oft, when the summer sun shone hot On the new-mown hay in the meadow lot, And she heard the little spring brook fall, Over the roadside, through the wall, In the shade of the apple-tree again She saw a rider draw his rein, And, gazing down with timid grace, She felt his pleased eyes read her face. SELECTIONS. 193 Sometimes her narrow kitchen walls Stretched away into stately halls ; The weary wheel to a spinnet turned, The tallow candle an astral burned ; And for him who sat by the chimney lug, Dozing and grumbling o'er pipe and mug, A manly form at her side she saw, And joy was duty and love was law. Then she took up her burden of life again, Saying only, " It might have been." Alas for maiden, alas for Judge, For rich repiner and household drudge ! God pity them both ! and pity us all, Who vainly the dreams of youth recall ; For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these : " It might have been ! " Ah, well ! s f or us all some sweet hope lies Deeply buried from human eyes ; And, in the hereafter, angels may Roll the stone from its grave away ! — J. Q. Whitti&r* ' 13 A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT. Is there for honest poverty, That hangs his head and a' that? The coward-slave, we pass him by, And dare be poor, for a' that ! For a' that, and a' that ; Our toils obscure, and a' that ; The rank is but the guinea's stamp ; The man's the gowd for a' that. What tho' on hamely fare we dine, Wear hodden-gray, and a' that ; Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man, for a' that. For a' that, and a' that, Their tinsel show, and a' that ; The honest man, tho' ne'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a' that. 194 normal reader. Ye see yon birkie, ca'ed a lord, Wha struts, and stares, and a' tliat; Tho' hundreds worship at his word, He's but a coof, for a 1 that. For a' that, and a' that, His riband, star, and a' that ; The man of independent mind. He looks and laughs at a' that. A king can mak a belted knight, A marquis, duke, and a' that ; But an honest man's aboon his might, Quid faith, he maunna fa' that ! For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that ; The pith and pride <>' worth, Are higher rank than a' that. Then let as pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that, That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the give, and a' that; For a' that, and a' that ; lt'< coming yet, for a' that; When man to man, the warld G'e r , Shall brothers be for a' that, - Pobert Burns. SEQUEL TO BURNS' "A MAN'S A MAN FOP V THAT.' Is there for simple purity, That hangs his head, and a' that ; A cowardly slave, we pass him by, And dare be poor for a' that; For a' that, and a' that, Through toils obscure, and a' that; Proud rank is but a dollar's stamp, The woman's the gold for a' that ! What though a house-wife she may be, Wear home-spun garb, and a' that; Give belles their silks and fools their wine, A woman's a woman for a' that! For a' that, and a' that, Their dazzling show, and a' that; The virt'us woman, though e'er so poor, Is queen of women for a' that. SELECTIONS. 195 You see yon lassie, called a belle, Though rich in gear, and a' that, Though hundreds worship at her shrine, She's but a flirt, for a' that ! For a' that, and a' that, Her ribbons, grace, and a' that ; The woman of sense, and cultured mind, She looks and laughs at a' that. A worthless flirt can make a queen, A princess proud, and a' that, But an honest woman's above her might, Good, faithful, true, and a' that ! For a' that, and for a' that, Their airs and pride, and a' that ; The gift of sense and pride of worth, Are higher rank than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may — As come it will for a' that — That woman's worth o'er all the earth, May reign supreme, and a' that, For a' that, and a' that, It's coming yet, for a' that, That woman to woman, the world o'er, Shall sisters be, for a' that. — J. F. Hanky. KENTUCKY BELLE. Summer of 'sixty-three, sir, and Conrad was gone away — Gone to the county-town, sir, to sell our first load of hay — We lived in the log-house yonder, poor as ever you've seen ; Eoschen there was a baby, and I was only nineteen. Conrad, he took the oxen, but he left Kentucky Belle; How much we thought of Kentuck, I couldn't begin to tell — Came from the Blue-grass country ; my father gave her to me When I rode North with Conrad, away from the Tennessee. Conrad lived in Ohio — a German he is, you know — The house stood in broad corn-fields, stretching on, row after row; The old folks made me welcome ; they were kind as kind could be ; But I kept longing, longing, for the hills of the Tennessee/ Oh, for a sight of water, the shadowed slope of a hill! Clouds that hang on the summit, a wind that never is still! But the level land went stretching away to meet the sky — Never' a rise, from north to south, to rest the weary eye ! 196 NORMAL READER. From east to west, no river to Bhine out under the moon, Nothing to make a shadow in the yellow afternoon : Only the breathless Binishine, OS I looked out, all forlorn; Only the "rustle, rustle," as 1 walked among the corn. When I fell sick with pining, we didn't wait any more, But moved away from the- corn-lands out to this river shore — The Tuscarawas it's called, Bir off there's a hill, you see — And now I've grown to like it next best to the Tennessee. 1 was :it work that morning. Borne one came riding like mad Over the- bridge and up the road— Fanner Boufs little lad; Bareback he rode; he bad no hat; he hardly stopped to say, "Morgan's men are coming, Prau; they're galloping on this way. " I'm Bent to wain the neighbors. He isn't a mile behind; He sweeps up all the horses— every horse that lie can find; Morgan, Morgan the raider, and Morgan's terrible men, With bowie-knives and pistol-, are galloping up the glen." The lad rode down the valley, and I stood still at the door; The baby laughed and prattled, playing with spools on the floor Kentuck was out in the pasture; Conrad, my man, was gone; Near, nearer Morgan'.- men were galloping, galloping on! Sudden I picked up baby, and ran to the pasture-bar; " Kentuck ! " I called ; " Kentucky ! " She knew me ever so far! I led her down the gully that turns off there to the right, And tied her to the bushes ; her head was just out of sight. As I ran back to the log house, at once there came a sound — The ring of hoofs, galloping hoofs, trembling over the ground — Coming into the turnpike out from the W r hite- Woman Glen — Morgan, Morgan the raider, and Morgan's terrible men. As near they drew and nearer, my heart beat fast in alarm ; But still I stood in the doorway, with baby on my arm. They came ; they passed ; with spur and whip in haste they sped along — Morgan, Morgan the raider, and his band six hundred strong. Weary they looked and jaded, riding through night and through day; Pushing on east to the river, many long miles away, To the border-strip where Virginia runs up into the west, And ford the Upper Ohio before they could stop to rest. On like the wind they hurried, and Morgan rode.in advance; Bright were his eyes like live coals, as he gave me a sidewayg glance; And I was just breathing freely, after my choking pain, When the last one of the troopers suddenly drew his rein. SELECTIONS. 197 Frightened I was to death, sir ; I scarce dare look in his face, As he asked for a drink of water, and glanced around the place ; I gave him a cup, and he smiled — 'twas only a boy, you see ; Faint and worn, with dim blue eyes ; and he'd sailed on the Ten- r- nessee. Only sixteen he was, sir — a fond mother's only son — Off and away with Morgan before his life had begun ! The damp drops stood on his temples ; drawn was the boyish mouth; And I thought me of the mother waiting down in the South ! Oh, pluck was he to the backbone, and clear grit through and through ; Boasted and bragged like a trooper ; but the big words wouldn't do; The boy was dying, sir, dying, as plain as plain could be, Worn out by his ride with Morgan up from the Tennessee* But, when I told the laddie that I, too, was from the South, Water came in his dim eyes, and quivers around his mouth ; " Do you know the Blue-Grass country ? " he wistfully began to say ; Then swayed like a willow sapling, and fainted dead away. I had him into the log house, and worked and brought him to ; I fed him, and coaxed him, as I thought his mother'd do ; And, when the lad got better, and the noise in his head was gone, Morgan's men were miles away, galloping, galloping on. " O, I must go," he muttered ; " I must be up and away ! Morgan, Morgan is waiting for me ! O, what will Morgan say ? " But I heard a sound of tramping, and kept him back from the door — The ringing sound of horses' hoofs that I had heard before. And on, on came the soldiers — the Michigan cavalry — And fast they rode, and black they looked, galloping rapidly ; They had followed hard on Morgan's track ; they had followed day and night ; But of Morgan and Morgan's raiders they had never caught a sight. And rich Ohio sat startled through all those summer days ; For strange, wild men were galloping over her broad highways ; Now here, now there, now seen, now gone, now north, now east, now west, Through river-valleys and corn-land farms, sweeping away her best. A bold ride and a long ride ! But they were taken at last ; They almost reached the river by galloping hard and fast ; But the boys in blue were upon them ere ever they gained the ford, And Morgan, Morgan the raider, laid down his terrible sword. 198 NORMAL READER. Well, I kept the boy till evening — kepi him against his will — But he was too weak to follow, and sat there pale and still ; When it was cool and dusky — you'll wonder to hear me tell — But I stole down to that gully, and brought up Kentucky Bell*. I kissed the star on her forehead — my pretty, gentle lass — But I knew that she'd be happy back in the old Blue-grass; A suit of clothes of Conrad's with all the money I had, And Kentuck, pretty Kentuck, I gave to the worn-out lad. I guided him to the southward as well as I knew how; The boy rode off with many thanks, and many a backward bo* , And then the glow it faded, and my heart began to swell, As down the glen away she went, my lost Kentucky Belle ! When Conrad came in the evening, the moon was shining high f Baby and I were both crying — I couldn't tell him why — But a battered suit of rebel gray was hanging on the wall, And a thin old horse, with drooping head, stood in Kentucky's stall Well, he was kind, and never once said a hard word to me ; He knew I couldn't help it — 'twas all for the Tennessee. But, after the war was over, just think what came to pass — A letter, sir; and the two were safe back in the old Blue-gr: The lad had got across the border, riding Kentucky Belle; And Kentuck she was thriving, and fat, and hearty, and well ; He cared for her, and kept her, nor touched her with whip or spur. Ah! we've had many horses, but never a horse like her! — Constance Fenimore WooUon. PARRHASIUS. Parrhasius stood, gazing forgetfully Upon his canvas. There Prometheus lay, Chained to the cold rocks of Mount Caucasus, The vultures at his vitals, and the links Of the lame Lemnian festering in his flesh ; And, as the painter's mind felt through the dim, Rapt mystery, and plucked the shadows wild Forth with his reaching fancy, and with form And color clad them, his fine, earnest eye Flashed with a passionate fire, and the quick curl Of his thin nostril, and his quivering lip, Were like the winged god's breathing from his flight. SELECTIONS. 199 " Bring me the captive now ! My hand feels skillful, and the shadows lift From my waked spirit airily and swift ; And I could paint the bow Upon the bended heavens ; around me play Colors of such divinity to-day. " Ha! bind him on his back! Look ! as Prometheus in my picture here ! Quick ! or he faints ! stand with the cordial near ! Now, bend him to the rack ! . Press down the poisoned links into his flesh ! And tear agape that healing wound afresh ! "So ! let him writhe! How long Will he live thus? Quick, my good pencil, now! What a fine agony works upon his brow ! Ha ! gray-haired, and so strong ! How fearfully he stifles that short moan ! Gods ! if I could but paint a dying groan ! "'Pity' thee? Soldo; I pity the dumb victim at the altar ; But does the robed priest for his pity falter? I'd rack thee, though I knew A thousand lives were perishing in thine ; What were ten thousand to a fame like mine ? "Ah ! there's a deathless name ! A spirit that the smothering vault shall spurn, And, like a steadfast planet, mount and burn ; And though its crown of flame Consumed my brain to ashes as it won me, By all the fiery stars ! I'd pluck it on me ! "Ay, though it bid me rifle My heart's last fount for its insatiate thirst ; Though every life-strung nerve be maddened first ; Though it should bid me stifle The yearning in my throat for my sweet child, And taunt its mother till my brain went wild. "All ! I would do it all, Sooner than die, like a dull worm, to rot ; Thrust foully in the earth to be forgot. O heavens ! but I appall Your heart, old man ! forgive — ha ! on your lives Let him not faint ! rack him till he revives ! 200 NORMAL READER. " Vain — vain — give o'er. His eye , Glazes apace. He does not feel you now. Stand back ! I'll paint the death-dew on his brow ! Gods ! if he do not die But for one moment — one — till I eclipse Conception with the scorn of those calm lips ! " Shivering ! Hark ! he mutters Brokenly now; that was a difficult breath; f Another? Wilt thou never come, O Death? Look! how his temple flutter- ! Is his heart still? Aha ! lift up his head ! He shudders — gasps — Jove help him — so, he's dead!" How like a mountain devil in the heart Rules this unreined ambition ! Let it once But play the monarch, and its haughty brow Glows with a beauty that bewilders thought And unthrones peace forever. Putting on The very pomp of Lucifer, it turns The heart to ashes, and with not a spring Left in the desert for the spirit's lip, We look upon our splendor, and forget The thirst of which we perish ! — Willis. BOTANY. Violets, sweet violets, I love you as I love my pets. Let me see, — One, two, three, Four, five, — ever five leaves ; Always the same — never deceives. What care I for your family ? What did you say? Botany ? Fling it in Botany Bay. Daisies, daisies, Scattered in endless mazes Over the meadows, under the hedges, Not in the path, but close to its edges ; As stars gem the blue of the sky with their sheen, Ye gem and besprinkle the velvety green. What care I for your pedigree ? Pistils or stamens, how many there be ! What did you say ? Botany? Fling it in Botany Bay. SELECTIONS. 201 Buttercup! Hey, johnny-jump-up ! Johnny will tell if I pull you apart — If I pick you to pieces and tear out your heart. Johnny will tell, I know him well, So keep your heart in its golden bell. What care I how rich it be ! I love you, and that is enough for me. "What did you say ? Botany? Fling it in Botany Bay. Forget-me-not ! I love the spot Where grows the fairy forget-me-not. How like to a star Its pale blossoms are ! And its bonny bright eyes I love to see, What care I how many they be ? What did you say? Botany ? . Fling it in Botany Bay. Mignonette ! I'll never forget Thy fragrance, it lingers about me yet. Delicate blossom, Best on my bosom ; Shed a sweet incense, when dying, o'er me, When no longer thy fairy-like blossoms I'll see. What did you say ? Botany ? Fling it in Botany Bay. Lily so fair ! Purity's there, You have beautiful raiment and never a care. Oh, would I might be So lovely as thee, And have never a thought about " nothing to wear!". I'd belong to your " tribe," whatever it be. What did you say? Botany? Fling it in Botany Bay. Cowslips ! Dewy lips ! Thy name recalls bright childhood scenes ; For thy blossoms I look, In the mead by the brook, 202 NORMAL READER. Through the vista of time that intervenes; Again I chase the winged hours And gather thy yellow unfolding flowers, Golden boats all afloat on a green leafy sea. What did vou say? Botany ? Fling it in Botany Bay. Bluebells, bluebells, What have you hid in your airy cells? Azure of heaven, Dewdrops of even — "Whisper, bluebells, whisper to me; I only know how fair you be, Without a thought of your family. What did you say? Botany? Fling it in Botany Bay. Fair budding rose, I may not close Without a tribute in verse to thee. " First love ! " May it prove Source of joy like flowers to me, Whatever their names or their family. What did you say? Botany ? Fling it in Botany Bay. Orange blossom ! Adorning the bosom, Or twined in the curl of a fair lady's hair; Ah, sometimes you be But a mockery ; Her lips may be false, though her brow seem so fair, Then so many heart-aches you blossoms are. Joy-, trouble, or care is your progeny — A various, wonderful family. What did you say ? Botany? Fling it in Botany Bay. Pansies are fraught With beautiful thought ; Bright thought and golden, and brilliant in hue ; Give me the blue one, that is the true one. I'll have nothing to do — Pansy, would you — SELECTIONS. 203 or " classes," or " family." You bring a thought, a dear thought to me. A thought, did I say ? For my botany ? No, fling it in Botany Bay. Poppy — nepenthe — Tell me who sent thee, To lull me to sleep o'er my botany? So drowsy am I — I can not tell why — Nor how — many — stamens — or — poppies I see; When I wake I'll remember how many there be ; What did you say? Botany ? Go fling it in Botany Bay. PAEADISE AND THE PEEI. One morn a Peri at the gate Of Eden stood, disconsolate ; And as she listened to the Springs Of Life within, like music flowing, And caught the light upon her wings, Through the half-opened portal glowing, She wept to think her recreant race Should e'er have lost that glorious place ! " How happy," exclaimed this child of air, " Are the holy Spirits who wander there 'Mid flowers that shall never fade and fall ; Though mine are the gardens of earth and sea, And the stars themselves have flowers for me, One blossom of heaven outblooms them all ! " Though sunny the lake of cool Cashmere, With its plane-tree isle reflected clear, And sweetly the founts of that valley fall; Though bright are the waters of Sing-su-hay, And the golden floods that thitherward stray ; Yet — oh ! 'tis only the blest can say How the waters of heaven outshine them all ! " " Go, — wing your flight from star to star, From world to luminous world, as far As the universe spreads its flaming wall, Take all the pleasures of all the spheres, And multiply each through endless years, One minute of heaven is worth them all ! " 204 NORMAL READER. The glorious Angel who was keeping The gates of Light, beheld her weeping; And, as he nearer drew and listened To her sad song, a tear-drop glistened Within his eyelids like the spray From Eden's fountain, when it lies On the blue flower, which — Brahmins say — Blooms nowhere but in Paradise. " Nymph of a fair but erring line ! " Gently he said — "One hope is thine. 'Tis written in the book of fate The Peri may yet be forgiven Who brings to this eternal gate The gift that is most dear to Heaven/ Go, seek it, and redeem thy sin, 'Tis sweet to let the Pardoned in." Eapidly as comets run To the embraces of the sun, Fleeter than the starry brands Flung at night from angel hands, At those dark and daring sprites Who would climb th' empyreal heights, Down the blue vault the Peri flies And, lighted earthward by a glance That just then broke from Morning's eyes, Hung hovering o'er the world's expanse. But whither shall the Spirit go To find this gift from Heaven ? "I know The wealth " she cries, " of every urn In which unnumbered rubies burn, Beneath the pillars of Chilminar : I know where the Isles of Perfume are, Many a fathom down in the sea To the south of sun-bright Araby ; I know, too, where the Genii hid The jewel'd cup of their King Jamshid, With Life's elixir sparkling high : But gifts like these are not for the sky. Where was there ever a gem that shone Like the steps of Alla's wonderful Throne ? And the Drops of Life — oh ! what would they bej In the boundless deep of Eternity ? " While thus she mused, her pinions fann'd The airs of the sweet Indian land, Whose air is balm, whose ocean spreads O'er coral rocks and amber beds ; SELECTIONS. 205 Whose sandal groves and bowers of spice Might be a Peri's Paradise ! But crimson now her rivers ran With human blood ; the smell of death Came reeking from those spicy bowers ; And man — the sacrifice of man — Mingled his taint with every breath Unwafted from the innocent flowers. Land of the Sun ! What foot invades Thy pagods and thy pillared shades — The cavern shrines, and idol stones, Thy monarchs and their thousand thrones? 'Tis he of Gazna — fierce in wrath He comes, and India's diadems Lie scattered in his ruinous path. His bloodhounds he adorns with gems Torn from the violated necks Of many a young and loved Sultana ; Maidens, within their pure Zenana; Priests, in the very fane he slaughters, And chokes up with the glittering wrecks Of golden shrines the sacred waters! 6 Downward the Peri turns her gaze, And through the war-field's bloody haze Beholds a youthful warrior stand Alone, beside his native river, The red blade broken in his hand, And the last arrow in his quiver. " Live," said the Conqueror ; " live to share The trophies and the crowns I bear ! " Silent that youthful warrior stood ; Silent he pointed to the flood, All crimson with his country's blood, Then sent his last remaining dart, For answer, to the Invader's heart. False flew the shaft, though pointed well ; The Tyrant lived, the Hero fell ! Yet marked the Peri where he lay ; And when the rush of wars was past, Swiftly descending on a ray Of morning light, she caught the last, Last glorious drop his heart had shed Before its free-born spirit fled ! " Be this," she cried, and winged her flight, " My welcome gift at the Gates of Light. 206 NORMAL READER. Though foul are the drops that oft distill On the field of warfare, blood like this For liberty shed, bo holy is It would not stain the purest rill That sparkles among the Bowers of Bli Oh ! if there be on this earthly Bphere A boon, an offering heaven holds dear, Tis the last libation Liberty draws From the heart that bleeds and breaks in her cause!" " Sweet," said tin -he gave The gift into his radiant hand, ■• t is our welcome of the brave Who die thus tor their native land; But see, alas! the crystal bar Of Eden moves not; holier far Than even /Af'.s drop the boon must be That opes the gates of heaven for thee ! " — Moore. BANGS. To have bangs or not to have bangs, that's the ques- tion. Whether it is better to suffer the outrageous bangs or take up arms against the sea of troubles and end them, is a serious consideration. You may take a pious Christian girl, bang her hair, and she will do some hideous deviltry in nine hours. The girl is no more responsible for her meanness than is any other lunatic. She can't help it. Bangs completely derange the little sinner and are the sole cause of her impudence. Samp- son's strength lay in his hair. A girl's deviltry is in her bangs ; they change the whole nature of her and lead her whithersoever they will. Dislodge the bangs and the girl will return to the path of rectitude. The longer the bangs the meaner the possessor, and the — uglier. Some of us boys once put a board over the face of the gentlest cow on the farm, a cow that had a wide reputation for order, sobriety and quietude. In an hour that cow was tearing through the fences like a tor- nado, shook her head at everything and seemed to say : SELECTIONS. 207 " Look out for me, I'll hook." So with the girl. Bangs give her an unruly look. She looks like she would hook. You are afraid that she will run at you. Were I compelled to fight a duel with a mad eow or a banged girl, I would take my chances with the cow. Girls wear bangs to attract attention from their ugly faces. Pretty girls do not wear bangs. A Chinaman is pretty by the side of a Hottentot. An ugly face under bangs is not noticed. A girl with bangs looks like tangled sunbeams in a bewildered forest. My dear girls, if you must wear bangs, don't you do it. If it will just kill you not to wear bangs, then die a martyr. You will make a prettier corpse than a live girl. You will fill a more useful place in the grave than you fill in life. You could not die in a nobler cause. The girl with bangs is constantly doing hateful things that a sleek-haired girl, or a girl with frizzes even, would not think of doing. She may belong to the church, but she is not a Christian. At church she al- ways sings the top line of the hymn-book. In England there was an army of Roundheads. In America there is an army of Soft-heads. If I were compelled to marry either a girl with bangs or an In- dian squaw, I wouldn't do it. No, sir, I wouldn't. A girl with bangs is no companion for a man, but is a fit wife for a balky mule. Meet a banged girl on the streets and she bows at you like a jumping-jack. If she is on your right she looks over her left shoulder at you. She seems to say : " Don't you breathe twice in my presence. Look at me and die. All creation, attention ! " All devils of mischief do not wear bangs, but all that wear bangs are imps of meanness. The Kentucky belle who eloped with a negro bar- ber wore bangs. The Indianapolis girl who murdered the wife of a Chinaman in order to marry her husband 208 NORMAL READER. wore bangs. The last act of Miss Ida Stipes, of Buf- falo, before committing suicide, was to bang her hair. That woman who stole a silver cup from the Palmer House, at Chicago, wore bangs. Poodle dogs, Ute Indians, and mean girls, wear bangs. I hate bangs with an unappeasable hatred. They are the remote cause of three-fourths of the feminine mischief, and the direct cause of one-fourth of all the deviltry. I 3nce knew a sweet-faced girl, in whose eyes heaven's own blue seemed to melt. Could you have seen her, lithe and elastic, you would have thought her the tidiest figure under the stars. You could hardly think of joys more thrilling than the pleasure of living with her all your life, far, far away amid the primeval for- ests, where there are no railroads, steamboats, or post- offices ; where you could wander and gather wild roses for her hair, and in some dark shade, read, from gilt- edged books, sweet poetry to her all day long. Of evenings, leave the cold room, and, contrary to the rules of college, gather warmth from, the cheering rays of pale moonshine. Excepting her nightingale voice there is no music below the skies half so sweet as the gentle rustling of her dress as she passes. You could trace her footsteps over the stony pavement. Her eyes were like the blazing stars, her lips like two twin cherries, her cheeks semi-transparent, her hair smooth and glossy like a fairy's, her form and beauty combined, w r here every god did seem to set his seal and give the world assurance of an angel. But the tempter came. That very night her Boston cousin set foot in our village. She told this wingless angel that all the Boston girls wore bangs, and that they were two awfully lovely for any use. In one short hour that pretty, gentle, timid girl was banged. Then look you what follows. Look upon the former angel; then upon this, the counterfeit presentment of the same creature. See what a grace was seated on SELECTIONS. 209 the first brow. Bangs blur the grace and blush of modesty ; call beauty hypocrite, take off the rose of beauty and set bangs there. I saw the features, those mangled features, and then I cried for vengeance. Rouse ye lovers, if ye have fair girls, look in the next fierce brawl to see them banged, torn from your arms, distorted and disfigured. After that sight, how weary, stale, flat and unprofitable seemed this world. It is an unweeded garden. Fie on it. Oh, fie. "Frailty, thy name is woman." Bangs are not, and they can not come to good. But break my heart, for I must hold my. tongue. — J. V. Coombs. THE BABON'S LAST BANQUET. O'er a low couch the setting sun Had thrown its latest ray, Where, in his last strong agony, A dying warrior lay — The stern old Baron Eudiger, Whose frame had ne'r been bent By wasting pain, till time and toil Its iron strength had spent. " They come around me here, and say My days of life are o'er — That I shall mount my noble steed And lead my band no more ; They come, and to my beard they dare To tell me now, that I, Their own liege lord and master born— That I — ha ! ha !— must die ! "And what is death ? I've dared him oft, Before the Paynim's spear — Think ye he's entered at my gate, Has come to seek me here? I've met him, faced him, scorned him, When the fight was raging hot — I'll try his might — I'll brave his power — Defy, and fear him not ! 14 210 NORMAL READER. " Ho ! sound the tocsin from the tower, And fire the culverin ! Bid each retainer arm with gpe< d, Call every vassal in ! Dp with my banner on the wall ! The banquet hoard prep Throw wide the portal of my hall, And hring my armor there!" A hundred hands were busy then ; The banquet forth was spread, And rang the heavy oaken floor "With many a martial tread ; While from the rich, dark tracery, Along the vaulted wall, Lights gleamed on harness, plume, and spear, O'er the proud Gothic hall. Fast hurrying through the outer gate, The mailed retainers poured On through the portal's frowning arch, And thronged around the hoard ; "While at its head, within his dark, Carved, oaken chair of state, Armed cap-a-pie, stern Rudiger, With girded falchion sate. " Fill every beaker up, my men ! Pour forth the cheering wine ! There's life and strength in every drop, Thanksgiving to the vine ! Are ye all there, my vassals true ? — Mine eyes are waxing dim: Fill round, my tried and fearless ones, Each goblet to the brim ! " Ye're there, but yet 1 see you not ! Draw forth each trusty sword, And let me hear your faithful steel Clash once around my board ! I hear it faintly — louder yet ! What clogs my heavy breath ? Up, all ! and shout for Eudiger, 1 Defiance unto death ! ' " Bowl rang to bowl, steel clanged to steel, And rose a deafening cry, That made the torches flare around, And shook the flags on high : SELECTIONS. 211 " Ho ! cravens ! do ye fear him ? Slaves ! traitors ! have he flown Ho ! cowards, have ye left me To meet him here alone ? " But I defy him ! let him come ! " Down rang the massy cup, While from its sheath the ready blade Came flashing half way up ; And with the black and heavy plumes Scarce trembling on his head, There, in his dark, carved, oaken chair, Old Budiger sat — dead ! — A. G. Greene. A NAUGHTY LITTLE GIKL'S VIEW OF LIFE. I'm only a very little girl, but I think I have just as much right to say what I want to about things as a boy. I hate boys, they are so mean ; they grab all the strawberries at the dinner-table, and never tell us when they're going to have any fun. Only I like Gus Rog- ers. The other day Gus told me he was going to let off some fireworks, and he let Bessie Nettle and me go and look at them. All of us live in a hotel, and his mother's room has a window with a balcony. And it was there we had the fireworks, right on the balcony. His mother had gone out to buy some ereme de lis to put on her face, and he'd went and got eleven boxes of lucifer matches, and ever so many pieces of Castile soap; he stealed them from the housekeeper. Just when she was going to put them in her closet, Gus went and told her Mrs. Nettle wanted her directly a minute, and while she was gone he grabbed the soap and the matches, and when she came back we watched her, and she got real mad, and she scolded Delia, that's the chambermaid, and said she know'd she did it ; and I was real glad, because when I was turning somersets on my mother's bed the other day, Delia slapped me, and she said she wasn't going to make the bed two times to please me ; then Bessie and me sticked the 212 NORMAL READER. matches in the soap like tenpins, and Gus fired them off, and they blazed like anything, and they made an awful smell, and Gus went and turned a little of the ga~ on so's his mother would think it was that. We get our dinner with the nurses, 'cause the man that keeps the hotel charges full price for children if they sit at the table in the big dining-room. Once my mother let me go there with her, and I talked a heap at the tabic, and a gentleman that sat next to us said "Little girls should be seen and not heard." The mean old thing died last week, and I was real glad, and I told Delia so, and she said if I went and said thi like that I couldn't go to heaven. Much she knows about it. I wouldn't want to go if dirty things like she w r ent there. Yesterday Mary, our nurse, told Bes- sie Nettle's nurse that she heard Larry Finnegan was going to marry her. Larry is one of the waiters, and he saves candies for me from the big dining-room. And Bessie Kettle's nurse said, " Oh, Lord ! what a lie ! " and Bessie Nettle went in her mother's room, and her little brother said she nipped him, and Bessie said, "Oh, Lord ! what a lie ! " and you should have heard how her mother did talk to her, and went and shut her up in a dark room where she kept her trunks, and didn't let her have nothing but bread and water, and Gus Rogers went and yelled through the key-hole, and said, " Bessie, the devil is coming to fetch you," and Bessie screamed and almost had a fit, and her mother told Mrs. Rogers, and got Gus licked, and Gus says he's a good mind to set the house on fire some day and burn her out. One day I went in the parlor and creeped under a sofa, and there wasn't anybody there. They don't let dogs or children go in the parlor, and I think it's real mean — and I creeped under the sofa, so's nobody could see me ; and Mr. Boyce came in and Miss Jackson. I don't like Miss Jackson ; she said one day childrens was a w T orse nuisance than dogs was. And Mr. Boyce SELECTIONS. 213 and Miss Jackson came and sitted down on the sofa, and he said, " Oh, Louisa, I love you so much," and then he kissed her. I heard it smack. And she said, " Oh, Thomas, I wish I could believe you ; don't you never kiss anybody else ? " and he said, " No, dearest/' and I called out, " Oh, what a big story, for I saw him kiss Bessie Nettle's nurse in the hall one night when the gas was turned down." Didn't he jump up; you bet— Gus always says you bet — and he pulled me out and tored my frock, and he said, "Oh, you wicked child, where do you expect to go for telling stories?" and I told him, "You shut up, I ain't going anywhere with you." I wish that man would die like the other did, so I do, and I don't care whether he goes to heaven or not. Gus Rogers' mother had a lunch party in her parlor, and they had champagne, and they never gave him any, and when his mother wasn't looking he found a bottle half full on the sideboard, and he stealed it and took it in our nursery, and Mary wasn't there, and Gus and me drinked it out of the glass Mary brushes her teeth in, and it was real nice, and we looked in Mary's wardrobe and finded her frock she goes to church in, and Gus put it on, and Mary's bonnet, too, and went in the hall, and we tumbled down and tored Mary's frock, and made my nose bleed, and Gus said, " Oh, there's a earthquake," 'cause we couldn't stand up, and you should see how the house did go up and down, awful ; and Gus and me laid down on the carpet, and the housekeeper picked me up and tooked me to my mother, and my mother said, " Oh, my, whatever have you been doing?" and I said, "Oh, Lord! I drinked champagne out of Gus Rogers' mother's bottle in the glass Mary brushes her teeth in," and the housekeeper says, " Oh, my goodness gracious, that child's as tight as bricks," and I said, " You bet, bully for you," and then I was awful sick, and I have forgotten what else. 214 NORMAL READER. STAY ON THE FARM. You are leaving the farm to seek wealth and fame In the city so grand and gay : To win you a fortune and gain you a name, And be Bomebody, you Bay. A farmer's life is too plodding and tame — You can not get rich in a day ! And you can't hear tin- thought of thus ever the same Plodding Blowly along till you're _ Ton will start as a clerk, hut you say by and by You expect to own a large store. And rapidly sell what you carefully buy, With clerks to assist by the score. You will build a fine mansion, full three stories high, With your gilt-lettered name on the door; You'll be rich some fail- day just as easy as try, Leaving fools on the farm to stay poor. But hold on, my young friend; not so sudden, I pray ; Don't be in such haste to begin: Remember that Rome was not built in a day. And sometimes the tortoises win. If you knew what you will on the farm you would >tay- What you will after years spent in vain; Years of toil, years of heart-aches, hair growing gray In wretchedness, poverty, sin. You will find for each toiler grown rich and esteemed, A thousand have died in despair; In the garrets of misery those who had dreamed As you dream, to find happiness there; But had found instead what they little had dreamed, Fierce hunger, and cold, and care; You will wish you were back where the glad sun-rays gleamed, By the brook in the sweet country air. There are culture and wealth in the city no doubt, And beauty, and music, and mirth ; But you will find from their circles securely shut out All those not in from their birth, Or those who for years have patiently wrought And gained them a place by their worth, And refinement and wealth may as safely be sought By patiently tilling the earth. SELECTIONS. 215 It is right, is it not, to reflect, my young friend, Before risking yourself and your all, Where the chance is so slender for gaining your end, And so great that you stumble and fall ? That you will get rich I do not pretend, But plenty your own you may call If you stay on the farm ; and I do recommend Such a course as the most rational. There is need for you here, for strong hands and brave hearts, For the nobly ambitious and true; The plow of the husbandman vigor imparts, And life and prosperity too, To all trades, to all progress in science and arts, To all that men think or men do. For me, I'll ne'er leave it for the sin-crowded marts — Your hand, my boy ! neither will you. — J. W. McBroom. SETTING A HEN. Meester Verris : I see dot mosd efferpoty wrides someding for de stricken bapers nowtays, and I tough t meppe I can do dot too, as I wride all apout vat dook blace rait me lasht summer ; you know — odor of you don'd know, den I dells you — dot Katrina (dot is mine vrow) und me, ve keep some shickens for a long dime ago, und von tay she sait to me, " Sockery " (dot is mein name), "vy dond you put some uf de aigs under dot olt plue hen shickens, I dinks she vants to sate." " Veil," T sait, " meppe I guess I vill ; " so I bicked out some uf de best aigs und dook urn oud do de parn fere de olt hen make her nesht in de side uf do hay- mow, poud five six veet up ; now, you see, I nefer vos ferry pig up und town, but I vos putty pig all de vay arount in de niittle, so I koodn't reach up dill I vent und get a parrel do stant on ; veil, I klimet on de par- rel, und ven my hed rise up by de nesht, dot olt hen gif me such a bick dot my nose runs all ofer my face mit plood, und ven I todge pack dot plasted olt parrel he preak, und I vent town kershlam ; I didn't tink I kood go insite a parrel pefore, put dere I vos, und I 216 NORMAL READER. fit so dite dot I koodn't get me oud efferway, my fest vos bushed vay up unter my arm-holes. Ven I fount I vos dite shtuck, I holler, "Katrina! Katrina!" and ven she koom and see me shtuck in de parrel up to my arm-holes, mit my face all plood and aigs, she shnst lait town on de hay and laft und laft, till I got so mat I sait, u Vot yon lay dare und laf like a olt vool, eh ? Vy dond you koom bull me oud?" und she set up und sait, "Oh, vipe off your chin, und bull your fest town ;" den she lait back und laft like she vood shblit herself more as efer. Mat as I vas, I tought to myself, Katrina, she sbeak English pooty goot, put I only sait, mit my cratest dignitude, " Katrina, vill you bull me oud dis parrel?" und she see dot I look booty red, so she said, "Uf course I vill, Sockery;" den she lait me und de parrel town on our site, und I dook holt de door sill, und Katrina she bull on de parrel, but de first bull she mate I yellet, "Donner und blitzen, shtop dat ; dere is nails in de parrel ! " You see de nails bent town ven I vent in, but ven I koom oud dey schticks in me all de vay rount ; veil, to make a short shtory long, I dold Katrina to go und dell nayper Hausman to pring a saw und saw me dis parrel off; veil, he koom, und he like to shblit himself mit laf too, but he roll me ofer und saw de parrel all de vay around off, und I get up mit haf a parrel around my vaist ; den Katrina she say, " Sockery, vait a little till I get a bat- tern uf dat new oferskirt you haf on," put I didn't sait a vort. I shust got a nife oud und vittle de hoops off und shling dot confountet olt parrel in de voot-pile. Pimeby, ven I koom in de house Katrina she sait, so soft like, "Sockery, don'd you goin' to but some aigs under dot olt plue hen?" Den I sait in my deep- est woice, "Katrina, uf you efer say dot to me again, I'll got a pill uf wriding from de lawyer from you," und I dell you she didn't say dot any more. Veil, Mr. Verris, ven I shtep on a parrel now, I don'd shtep on it, I get a pox. — Sockery. SELECTIONS. 217 QUAEEEL OF BEUTUS AND CASSIUS. Cassius. — That you have wrong'd me doth appear in this : You have condemn'd and noted Lucius Pella For taking bribes here of the Sardians, Wherein rny letters, praying on his side, Because I knew the man, were slighted off. Brutus. — You wrong'd yourself to write in such a case. Cassius. — In such a time as this, it is not meet That every nice offense should bear his comment. Brutus. — Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm, To sell and mart your offices for gold To undeservers. Cassius. — I an itching palm ? You know that you are Brutus that speak this, Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. Brutus. — The name of Cassius honors this corruption, And chastisement doth therefore hide his head. Cassius. — Chastisement ! Brutus. — Eemember March, the Ides of March remember ! Did not great Julius bleed for justice's sake? What villain touch'd his body, that did stab, And not for justice? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers ; shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honors For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Eoman. Cassius. — Brutus, bay not me. I'll not endure it ; you forget yourself, To hedge me in ; I am a soldier, I, Older in practice ; abler than yourself To make conditions. Brutus. — Go to ; you are not, Cassius. Cassius. — I am. Brutus. — I say you are not. Cassius. — Urge me no more, I shall forget myself ; Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further. Brutus. — Away, slight man ! Cassius. — Is't possible ? Brutus. — Hear me, for I will speak. Must I give way and room to your rash choler? Shall I be frighted when a madman stares? Cassius. — O ye gods ! ye gods ! must I endure all this ? Brutus. — All this ? Ay, more ; fret till your proud heart break ° } Go, show your slaves how choleric you are, 218 NORMAL READER. And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? Must I observe you ? Must I stand and crouch Under your testy humor? By the gods, You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you ; for, from this day forth I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, When you are waspish. Cassius. — Is it come to this? Brutus. — You say you are a better soldier: Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well; for mine own part I shall be glad to learn of noble men. Cassius. — You wrong me every way, you wrong me, Brutus- I said an elder soldier, not a better; Did I say "better?" Brutus. — If you did, I care not. Cassius. — When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me. Brutus. — Peace, peace! you durst not so have tempted him. Cassius. — I durst not? Hi i tm. — No. Camus. — What? Durst not tempt him? Brutus. — For your life you durst not. Cassius.— Do not promise too much upon my love; I may do that I shall be sorry lor. Brutus.— You "have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius. in your threats; For I am arm'd so strong in honesty, That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not. I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you denied me; For I can raise no money by vile means; By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash By any indirection. I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me. Was that done like Cassius ? Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so? AVhen Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal counters from his friends, Be ready, gods, with all your thunder-bolts ; Dash him to pieces ' Cassius. — I denied you not. Brutus. — You did. Cassius. — I did not: he was but a fool that brought My answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart. A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. Brutus. — I do not, till you practice them on me. SELECTIONS. 219 Camus. — You love me not. Brutus. — I do not like your faults* Cassius. — A friendly eye could never see such faults. Brutus. — A flatterer's would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus. Cassius.—Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come ! Eevenge yourselves alone on Cassius, " For Cassius is aweary of the world : Hated by one he loves ; braved by his brother ; Check'd like a bondman ; all his faults observed, Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote, To cast into my teeth. Oh, I could weep My spirit from mine eyes ! There is my dagger And here my naked breast ; within, a heart, Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold : If that thou be'st a Koman, 'take it forth; I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart: Strike as thou didst at Caesar ; for, I know, When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better Than ever thou lovedst Cassius. Brutus. — Sheathe your dagger s Be angry when you will, it shall have scope; Do what you will, dishonor shall be humor. O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb That carries anger as the flint bears fire : Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, And straight is cold again. Cassius. — Hath Cassius lived To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus When grief and blood ill-temper'd vexeth him? Brutus. — When I spoke that I was ill-temper'd, too. Cassius. — Do you confess so much ? Give me your hand, Brutus. — And my heart, too. [Embracing.) Cassius. — O Brutus ! Brutus. — What's the matter? Cassius. — Have you not love enough to bear with me When that rash humor which my mother gave me Makes me forgetful ? Brutus. Yes, Cassius ; and, from henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so. —Shakspere. ON THE SHOEES OF TENNESSEE. "Move my arm-chair, faithful Pompey, In the sunshine, bright and strong, For this world is fading, Pompey, Massa won't be with you long ; 220 KOBMAL READER. And I fain would hear the south wind Brim: once more the Bound to me, Of the wavelets -<>itly breaking On tin- shores of Tenne j Mournful though the ripples murmur, they still the story tell, How no vessels float the banner That I'v Loved so Long and well. I -hall Listen to their music, earning that again 1 see - and Stripes on -loop and >hallop - tiling up the TennesA "And, Pompey, while old Massa's waiting For Death's Last dispatch to come, If that exiled starry hanner Should come proudly Bailing home, You shall greet it, slave no Longer— e and hand -hall both he free That shout and point to Union colors On the waves of Ti Massa's berry kind to Pompey; - But old darkey's happy here, "Where he's tended corn and cotton For dese many a long gone year. Over yonder Missis' sleeping- No one tends her grave like me. Mebbe she would miss the flower- She used to love in Tennessee. •"Pears like she was watching Massa — If Pompey should beside him stay, Mebbe she'd remember better How for him she used to pray ; Telling him that way up yonder AVhite as snow his soul would be, If he served the Lord of heaven AVhile he lived in Tennessee." Silently the tears were rolling Down the poor old dusky face, As he stepped behind his master, In his long accustomed place. Then a silence fell around them As they gazed on rock and tree Pictured in the placid waters Of the rolling Tennessee. SELECTIONS. 221 Master, dreaming of the battle Where he fought by Marion's side, When he bid the haughty Tarlton Stoop his lordly crest of pride. Man, remembering how yon sleeper Once he held upon his knee, Ere she loved the gallant soldier, Kalph Vervair, of Tennessee. Still the south wind fondly lingers 'Mid the veteran's silver hair ; Still the bondman close beside him Stands behind the old arm-chair. With his dark-hued hand uplifted, Shading eyes, he bends to see Where the woodland boldly jutting Turns aside the Tennessee. Thus he watches cloud-born shadows Glide from tree to mountain crest, Softly creeping, aye and ever To the river's yielding breast. Ha ! above the foliage yonder Something flutters wild and free ! "Massa! massa! halleluliah! The flag's come back to Tennessee! " Pompey, hold me on your shoulder, Help me stand on foot once more, That I may salute the colors As they pass my cabin door: Here's the paper signed that frees you— Give a freeman's shout with me: ( God and Union ! ' be our watchword Evermore in Tennessee." Then the trembling voice grew fainter, And the limbs refused to stand ; One prayer to Jesus — and the soldier Glided to the better land. When the flag went down the river Man and master both were free, While the ring-dove's note was mingled With the rippling Tennessee. — Ethel L Beers. 222 .NORMAL READER. DAVID'S LAMENT OVER ABSALOM. The kins stood still Till the last echo died; then, throwing off The Back-cloth from his brow, and Laying back The pall from the still features of his child. He bowed his head upon him, and hroke forth In the resistless eloqnen< "Alas! my noble hoy, that thou Bhonldst die! Thou, who wnt made bo beautifully fair! That death should settle in thy glorious eye, Ami Leave his Btillness in this clustering hair! How could he mark thee for the silent tomb My proud boy, Absalom I "Cold is thy hrow, my son, and I am chill, As to my bosom I have tried to press thee. How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill, Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee, And hear thy BWeet ' my father,' from these dumb And cold lips, Absalom ! "The grave hath won thee. I shall hear the gush Of music, and the voices of the young ; And life will pass me in the mantling blush, And the dark tresses to the soft winds flung; But thou no more, with thy sweet voice, shalt come To meet me, Absalom ! "But, oh! when I am stricken, and my heart, Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, How will its love for thee, as I depart, Yearn for thine ear, to drink its last, deep token, It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom, To see thee, Absalom ! "And now farewell ! 'Tis hard to give thee up, With death, so like a gentle slumber, on thee ; And thy dark sin ! oh ! I could drink the cup, If, from this woe, its bitterness had won thee. May God have called thee, like a wanderer, home, My erring Absalom ! " He covered up his face, and bowed himself, A moment, on his child ; then, giving him A look of melting tenderness, he clasped His hands convulsively, as if in prayer; And, as a strength were given him of God, He rose up calmly, and composed the pall, Firmly and decently, and left him there, As if his rest had been a breathing sleep. — Willis. SELECTIONS. 223 MAEMION AND DOUGLAS. The train from out the castle drew ; But Marmion stopped to bid adieu — " Though something I might 'plain," he said, " Of cold respect to stranger guest, Sent hither by your king's behest, While in Tantallon's towers I stayed — Part we in friendship from your land, And, noble earl, receive my hand." Eut Douglas round him drew his cloak, Folded his arms, and thus he spoke • " My manors, halls, and bowers shall still Be open, at my sovereign's will, To each one whom he lists, howe'er Unmeet to be the owner's peer. My castles are my king's alone, From turret to foundation-stone — The hand of Douglas is his own ; And never shall in friendly grasp The hand of such as Marmion clasp ! " Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, And shook his very frame for ire, And — "This to me!" he said ; 1 " An 'twere not for thy hoary beard, Such hand as Marmion's had not spared To cleave the Douglas' head ! And first I tell thee, haughty peer, He who does England's message here, Although the meanest in her state, May well, proud Angus, be thy mate! And, Douglas, more I tell thee here, Even in thy pitch of pride, Here, in thy hold, thy vassals near, (Nay, never look upon your lord, And lay your hands upon your sword), I tell thee thou 'rt defied ! 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 ! " On the earl's cheek the flush of rage O'ercame the ashen hue of age ; Fierce he broke forth : "And darest thou, then, To beard the lion in his den— The Douglas in his hall? 224 NORMAL READER. And honest thou hence unscathed to go? No, by Saint Bride of Bothwt.ll. no ! l'|. drawbridge, grooms !— what, warder, hoi Let the portcullis Call." Lord Marmion turned — well was his Deed And dashed the rowels id his Bteed ; Like arrow through the archway sprung, Thepooderous gate behiod him roog: To pass, there was Such scanty room, The ban, deeceodiDg, razed his plume. The steed alooc the drawbridge flies, Just as it trembled od the rise: Nor lighter does the Bwallow Bkim Aloog the smooth lake's Level brim: And when Lord Marmion reached his hand, He halts, and turns with clenched hand, A shout of loud defiance pours, And shakes his gauntlet at the towers ! — Waltei Scott. AWFULLY LOVELY PHILOSOPHY. A few clays ago a Boston girl, who had been attend- ing the School of Philosophy at Concord, arrived in Brooklyn on a visit to a seminary chum. After can- vassing thoroughly the fun and gum-drops that made up their education in the seat of learning at which their early scholastic eiforts were made, the Brooklyn girl began to inquire the nature of the Concord enter- tainment. a And so you are taking lessons in philosophy? How do you like it ? " " Oh, it's perfectly lovely ! It's about science, you know, and we all just dote on science." "It must be nice. What is it about?" " It's about molecules as much as anything else, and molecules are just too awfully nice for anything. If there's anything I really enjoy it's molecules." "Tell me about them, my dear. What are mole- cules?" " Oh, molecules ! They are little wee things, and SELECTIONS. 225 it takes ever so many of them. They are splendid things. Do you know, there ain't anything but what's got molecules in it. And Mr. Cook is just as sweet as he can be, and Mr. Emerson, too. They explain everything so beautifully." " How I'd like to go there ! " said the Brooklyn girl, enviously. "You'd enjoy it ever so much. They teach proto- plasm, too, and if there's one thing perfectly heavenly it's protoplasm. I really don't know which I like best, protoplasm or molecules." "Tell me about protoplasm. I know I should adore it." "'Deed you would. It's just too sweet to live. You know it's about how things get started, or something of that kind. You ought to hear Mr. Emerson tell about it. It would stir your very soul. The first time he explained about protoplasm there wasn't a dry eye in the house. We named our hats after him. This is an Emerson hat. You see the ribbon is drawn over the crown and caught with a buckle and a bunch of flowers. Then you turn up the side with a spray of forget-me-nots. Ain't it just too sweet? All the girls in the school have them." "How exquisitely lovely! Tell me some more science." " Oh ! I almost forgot about differentiation. I am really and truly positively in love with differentiation. It's different from molecules and protoplasm, but it's every bit as nice. And Mr. Cook ! You should hear him go on about it. I really believe he's perfectly bound up in it. This scarf is the Cook scarf. All the girls wear them, and w T e named them after him, just on account of the interest he takes in differentia- tion." " What is it, any way ? " " This is mull, trimmed with Languedoc lace " 15 228 NORMAL HEADER. " I don't mean that — that other." "Oh, differentiation! Ain't it sweet? It's got something to do with species. It's the way you tell one hat from another, so you'll know which is becom- ing. And we learn all about ascidians, too. They are the divinest things! I'm absolutely enraptured with ascidians. If I only had an ascidian of my own I wouldn't ask anything vise in the world." "What do they look Like, dear? Did you ever one?" asked the Brooklyn girl, deeply interested. "Oh, no; nobody ever saw one except Mr. Cook and Mr. Emerson; but they are something like an oyster with a reticule hung on its belt. I think they are just heavenly." "Do you learn anything else besides? ' "Oh, yes! We learn about common philosophy and logic, and those common things like metaphysics; but the girls don't care anything about those. We are just in ecstasies over differentiations and molecules, and Mr. Cook and protoplasms, and ascidians and Mr. Emerson, and I really don't see why they put in those vulgar branches. If anybody besides Mr. Cook and Mr. Emerson had done it, we should have told him to his face that he was terribly, awfully mean." And the Brooklyn girl went to bed that night in the dumps, because fortune had not vouchsafed her the advantages enjoyed by her friend. THE OWL CRITIC. " Who stuffed that white owl ! " No one spoke in the shop. The barber was busy, and he couldn't stop ; The customers, waiting their turn were all reading The Daily, the Herald, the Post, little heeding The young man who blurted out such a blunt question, Not one raised a head, or even made a suggestion : And the barber kept on shaving. u Don't you see, Mister Brown," cried the youth with a frown, u How wrong the whole thing is, how preposterous each wing is, SELECTIONS. 227 How flattened the head is, how jammed down the neck is. In short, the whole owl, what an ignorant wreck 'tis I I make no apology ; I've learned owl-eology. I've passed days and nights in a hundred collections, And can not be blinded to any deflections Arising from unskillful fingers that fail To stuff a bird right, from his beak to his tail. Mister Brown I Mr. Brown! Do take that bird down, Or you'll soon be the laughing stock ail over town!" And the barber kept on shaving. u I've studied owls and other night fowls, And I'll tell you what I know to be true : An owl can not roost with his limbs so unloosed. No owl in the world ever had his claws curled, Ever had his legs slanted, ever had his bill canted, Ever had his neck screwed into that attitude — Can't do it, because 'tis against all bird laws. Anatomy. teaches, ornithology preaches, An owl has a toe that canH turn out so ! I've made the white owl my study for years, And to see such a job almost moves me to tears ! Mister Brown, I'm amazed you should be so gone crazed As to put up a bird in that posture absurd ! To look at that owl really brings on a dizziness ; The man who stuffed him don't half know his business V* And the barber kept on shaving. Examine those eyes ; I'm filled with surprise Taxidermists should pass off on you such poor glass ; So unnatural they seem, they'd make Audubon scream And John Burroughs laugh, to encounter such chaff. Do take that bird down, have him stuffed again, Brown!" And the barber kept on shaving. " With some saw-dust and bark, I could stuff in the dark An owl better than that. I could make an old hat Look more like an owl than that horrid fowl, Stuck up there so stiff like a side of coarse leather. In fact, about him there's not one natural feather." Just then with a wink and a sly, normal lurch, The owl very gravely got down from the perch, Walked round and regarded his fault-finding critic (Who thought he was stuffed) with a glance analytic, And then fairly hooted, as if he should say : " Your learning's at fault this time, any way ; Don't waste it again on a live bird, I pray. I'm an owl ; you're another. Sir Critic, good day ! n And the barber kept on shaving. —James T. Fields, 228 NORMAL READER. Tin: GEEEN MOUNTAIN JUSTICEL "The snow i- deep," the Justice said; "There's mighty mischief overhead." "High talk, indeed!'" his wife exclaimed ; "What sir! shall Providence be blamed?" The Justice, laughing, -aid, "Oh no! 1 l uly meant the load- of SnOW Upon the roofs. The barn is weak; i ttly fear the roof will break. So hand* me np the spade, my dear, I'll mount the barn, the roof to clear.'* "No!" said the wife; "the ham is high, And if you slip, and fall, and die, How will my living he Becnred? — Stephen, your life is not insured. Bat tie a rope your waist around, And it will hold you safe and sound." "I will," said he. " Now for the roof — All snugly tied, and danger-proof! Excelsior! Excel — Bntnol The rope is not Becnred below!" Said Rachel, "Climb, the end to throw Across the top, and I will go And tie that end around my waist." " Well, every woman to her taste; You always would he tightly laced. Rachel, when you became my bride, I thought the knot securely tied; But lest the bond should break in twain, I'll have it fastened once again." Below the arm-pits tied around, She takes her station on the ground, While on the roof, beyond the ridge, He shovels clear the lower edge. But, sad mischance ! the loosened snow Comes sliding down, to plunge below. And as he tumbles with the slide, Up Eachel goes on t'other side. Just half-way down the Justice hung; Just half-way up the woman swung. "Good land o' Goshen ! " shouted she ; "Why, do you see it?" answered he. The couple, dangling in the breeze, Like turkeys hung outside to freeze, At their rope's end and wit's end, too, Shout back and forth what best to do. SELECTIONS. 228 Cried Stephen, " Take it coolly, wife ; Ail have their ups and downs in life." Quoth Eachel, " What a pity 'tis To joke at such a time as this ! A man whose wife is being hung Should know enough to hold his tongue." "Now, Eachel, as I look below, I see a tempting heap of snow. Suppose, my dear, I take my knife, And cut the rope to save my life." She shouted, " Don't ! 'twould be my death—- I see some pointed stones beneath. A better way would be to call, With all our might, for Phebe Hall." "Agreed!" he roared. First he, then she Gave tongue : " O Phebe ! Phebe ! PAe-e- be Hall ! " in tones both fine and coarse, Enough to make a drover hoarse. Now, Phebe, over at the farm, Was sitting, sewing, snug and warm ; But hearing, as she thought, her name, Sprang up, and to the rescue came, Beheld the scene, and thus she thought: u If, now, a kitchen chair were brought, And I could reach the lady's foot, I'd draw her downward by the boot, Then cut the rope, and let him go; He can not miss the pile of snow." He sees her moving towards his wife, Armed with a chair and carving-knife, And, ere he is aware, perceives His head ascending to the eaves ; And, guessing what the two are at, Screams from beneath the roof, "Stop that J You make me fall too far, by half I " But Phebe answers with a laugh, u Please tell a. body by what right You've brought your wife to such a plight !* And then, with well-directed blows, She cuts the rope and down he goes. The wife untied, they walk around, When la! no Stephen can be found. They call in vain, run to and fro; They look around, above, below ; No trace or token can they see, And deeper grows the mystery. Then Eachel's heart within her sank But, glancing at the snowy bank, NORMAL READER. She caught a little gleam of hope — A gentle movement of the rope. They scrape away ■ little Bnow; What's this? Ahat! Ahlhe'sbeloi Then npward heaves the snowy pile, And forth he stalks in tragic style. Unhurt, and with a roguish smile; And Rachel sees, with glad surprise, The missing found, the fallen rise. COQUETTE PUNISHED. Ellen was fair, and knew it, too, As other village beauties do, Whose miner- never lie; Secure of any swain Bhe i She smiled on half a dozen beaux, And, reckless oi a lover's woe-. She cheated these and taunted those, "For how could any one suppose A clown could take her eye?" But whispers through the village ran That Edgar was the happy man The maid designed to bless : For, wheresoever moved the fair, The youth was, like her shadow, there, And rumor boldly matched the pair, For village folks will guess. Edgar did love, but was afraid To make confession to the maid, So bashful was the youth : Certain to meet a kind return, He let the flame in secret burn, Till from his lips the maid should learn Officially the truth. At length one morn to take the air, The youth and maid, in one-horse chair, A long excursion took. Edgar had nerved his bashful heart The sweet confession to impart, For ah ! suspense had caused a smart He could no longer brook. He drove, nor slackened once his reins, Till Hempstead's wide-extended plains Seemed joined to skies above; SELECTIONS. 231 Nor house, nor tree, nor shrub was near The rude and dreary scene to cheer, Nor soul within ten miles to hear, And still poor Edgar's silly fear Forbade to speak of love. At last one desperate effort broke The bashful spell, and Edgar spoke With most persuasive tone; Recounted past attendance o'er, And then, by all that's lovely, swore That he would love forever more, If she'd become his own. The maid in silence heard his prayer, Then, with a most provoking air, She tittered in his face ; And said, " 'Tis time for you to know A lively girl must have a beau, Just like a reticule— for show ; And at her nod to come and go ; But he should know his place. " Your penetration must be dull To let a hope within your skull Of matrimony spring. Your wife ? ha ! ha ! upon my word, The thought is laughably absurd As anything I ever heard — I never dreamed of such a thing \ n The lover sudden dropp'd his rein When on the center of the plain ; '' The linch-pin's out ! " he cried ; "Be pleased one moment to alight, Till I can set the matter right, That we may safely ride," He said, and handed out the fair; Then laughing, cracked his whip in air, And wheeling round his horse and chair, Exclaimed, "Adieu, I leave you there In solitude to roam." ~t "What mean you, sir?" the maiden cried, " Did you invite me out to ride, To leave me here without a guide ? Nay, stop, and take me home." "What! take you home!" exclaimed the beau; " Indeed, my dear, I'd like to know How such a hopeless wish could grow, 232 normal reader. Or in your bosom spring. What! take Ellen home ! ha! ha! upon my word, The thought is Laughably absurd As anything I ever heard— I never dreamad of Bach a thing! " DOT BABY OF MINK. Mine cracious ! Mine cracioos ! shust look here und Bee A Deutcher so habby as habby can Der beoples all dink dat no pra'ms 1 haf got, Vas grasy mit drinking, or BOmeding like dot; Id vasn't pecause I Irinks Lager and vine, Id vas all on aggount of dot baby oil' mine. Dot schmall leedle vellow I dells you vas queer; Not mooch pigger round as a goot glass off be< r, Mit a bare-tooted hed, and nose but a schpeck, A mout dot goes most to der pack of his neck, And his leedle pink toes mid der rest all combine To gife sooch a charm to dot baby of mine. I dells you dot baby was von off der poys, Und beats leedle Yawcob for making a noise; He shust has pegun to shbeak goot English, too, Says "Mamma," and "Bapa," and somedimes "ah-goo! w You don't find a baby den dimes oudt off nine Dot vas quite so schmart as dot baby off mine. He grawls der vloor over, und drows dings aboudt, Und puts efryding he can find in his mout; He dumbles der shtairs down, und falls vrom his chair, Und gifes mine Katrina von derrible schare. Mine hair stands like shquills on a mat borcupine Ven I dinks of dose pranks of dot baby off' mine. Dere was someding, you pet, I don't likes pooty veil ; To hear in der nighdt dimes dot young Deutcher yell, Und dravel der ped-room midout many clo'es, Vhile der chills down der shpine off mine pack quickly goes. Does leedle shimmasdic dricks vasn't so fine Dot I cuts oop at nighdt mit dot baby off mine. Veil, dese leedle schafers vos goin' to pe men, Und all off dese droubles vill peen ofer den ; Dey vill vear a vhite shirt-vront inshted of a bib, Und voudn't got tucked oop at nighdt in deir crib. Veil 1 veil ! ven I'm feeple und in life's decline, May mine oldt age pe cheered by dot baby off mine. — Charles F. Adams, SELECTIONS. 233 SHE WOULD HAVE CHEWING GUM. The bright-red sun was setting on the egg of morrow's dawn, As a Vassar girl strolled, pigeon-toed, adown the level lawn ; And the fading rays with roses wreathed the hair of one who lay In the gathering twilight lonely, filled with terror and dismay. "She may cry, and howl, and kick up ; but she wouldn't do my sum, And I'll never, never, never let her chew my chewing gum ! " " Teacher," Bessie's white lips faltered, as she pointed to the maid, " Did you hear that horrid creature? Do you know what she has said? In her dark and gloomy pocket she is carrying her loose Boarding-school companion, much as twenty sticks of spruce, And she says that I shall have none — I! her only friend, her chum ; " And she spoke in husky whispers, " I must have her chewing gum ! n " Bessie," calmly spoke the teacher (every word froze in her ear), " For years I've taught at Yassar, and I will not interfere. I know the regulations, and respect the rules and laws; I am here to educate your mind, and not supply your jaws. I have done my duty ever ; I've been cool, discreet and mum ; But I can't make Bertha Underwood give you her chewing gum.'* Wild the girl's eyes, pale her features, as she totters up the stair. And the dews fall in soft pity as the stars see her despair. Not a moment stops the maiden till she gains the upper flight, And stands out in the darkness like an angel carved in night. Now she enters Bertha's chamber, and pants, " Now let her come ; " Stills her frightened heart's wi]d beating, "I must have her chew- ing gum ? " Far out, the distant city seems a tiny, sparkling speck. Where she well remembers often buying spruce gum by the peck. Above, the throbbing heavens seemingly reflect her soul, In which the spheres of vengeance their mighty music roll Shall she still their diapason ? Shall she smite their anthems dumb? She crushes swift the feeling ; she must have that chewing gum. Quick she strips the bed of clothing ; quick she wraps her in a sheet, And the garment winding tenderly, clothes her from head to feet. Then, in a darkened corner, like a member of the host Who sometimes wander back to earth, she stands, a rigid ghost. And, panting, still she listens till she hears the fairy drum Of Bertha's fairy footsteps, bringing up that chewing gum. Such a yell ! a quivering figure lies fainting on the floor The very winds stop sighing as they shrink back from the door. 234 NORMAL READER. Swift the ghostly Bessie steals from where the gath'ring shad curl, And bends in fluttering triumph above the prostrate <;irl. With trembling hand- bes in the pocket ol her chum, And cries out in her madness, " 1 wmei have her chewing gum." The pale, soft moon rose slowly ; each bright star bent her head, As thi' patron orb of Vassar threw her rays around the dead, And, like another moon, the teacher climbed the winding stair, To find fair Bertha robed in death, and Bessie kneeling were, With no remorse on that pale lace, as she whispered softly, u ( The Angels have got Bertha, but /'>. goi her chewing gum ! " — Brooklyn Eagle. ENTERTAINING SISTERS BEAU. "My sister'll be down in a minute, and says you're to wait, if you please ; And says I might stay till she came, if I'd promise never to tease, Nor speak till you spoke to me first But that's nonsense, for how would you know What she told me to say, if I didn't ? Don't you really and truly think so? "And then you'd feel strange here alone ! And wouldn't know just where to sit ; For that chair isn't strong on its legs, and we never use it a bit. We keep it to match with the sola. But Jack said it would be just like you To flop yourself right down upon it, and knock out the very last screw. "'Spose you try? I won't tell. You're afraid to! Oh! you're afraid they would think it was mean ! "Well, then, there's the album — that's pretty, if your fingers are clean. My. sister says sometimes I daub it; but she only says that when she's cross; There's her picture. You know it?- It's like her; but she ain't as good looking, of course ! " That is me. It's the best of 'em all. Now, tell me you'd never have thought That once I was little as that? It's the only one that could be bought — For that was the message to pa from the photograph man where I sat — That he wouldn't print off anv more till he first got his money for that SELECTIONS. 235 "'What ? Maybe you're tired of waiting. Why, often she's longer than this. There's all her back hair to do up, and all her front hair to friz. But it's nice to be sitting here talking like grown people, just you and me. Do you think you'll be coming here often ? Oh, do ! But don't come like Tom Lee. " Tom Lee ? Her last beau. Why, my goodness ! He used to be here day and night. Till the folks thought he'd soon be her husband ; and Jack says that gave him a fright. You won't run away, then, as he did ? for you're not a rich man, they say ; Pa says you're as poor as a church mouse. Now, are you ? And how poor are they ? "Ain't you glad that you met me ? Well, I am ; for I know your hair isn't red ; But what there is left of it's mousy, and not what that naughty Jack said. But there ! I must go ! Sister's coming. But I wish I could wait, just to see If she ran up to you and kissed you in the way she used to kiss Lee." — Bret Harte. A LITEEARY NIGHTMARE. Will the reader please cast his eyes over the follow- ing verses and see if he can discover anything harmful in them ? " Conductor, when you receive a fare, Punch in the presence of the passenjare ! A blue trip slip for an eight-cent fare, A buff trip slip for a six-cent fare, A pink trip slip for a three-cent fare, Punch in the presence of the passenjare ! CHORUS. Punch, brothers ! punch with care ! Punch in the presence of the passenjare ! " I came across these jingling rhymes in a newspaper a little while ago, and read them a couple of times. They took instant and entire possession of me. All through breakfast they went waltzing through my 236 NORMAL READER. brain. I had carefully laid out my day's work the day before. I took up my pen ; but all I could get it to say was, "Punch in the presence of the passenjare." I fought hard for an hour, but it was useless. My head kept humming, "A blue trip slip for an eight-cent fere, a buff trip slip for a six-cent fare," and so on and so on, without peace or respite. The day's work was ru- ined — I could see that plainly enough. 1 gave up and drifted down town, and presently discovered that my feet were keeping time to that relentless jingle. When I could stand it no longer I altered my step. But it did no good; those rhymes accommodated themselves to the new -step, and went on harrassing me just as be- fore. I returned home, and suffered all the afternoon; suffered all through an unconscious and unrefreshing dinner; suffered, and cried, and jingled all through the evening; went to bed. and rolled, tossed and jing- led right along, the same as ever; got up at midnight frantic, and tried to read ; but there was nothing visi- ble upon the whirling page except "Punch ! punch in the presence of the passenjare \" By sunrise I was out of my mind, and everybody marveled and was dis- tressed at the idiotic burden of my ravings: "Punch ! oh, punch! punch in the presence of the passenjare!" Two days later, on Saturday morning, I arose, a tot- tering wreck, and went forth to fulfill an engagement with a valued friend, the Rev. Mr. , to walk ten miles distant. He stared at me, but asked no questions. We started. Mr. talked, talked, talked — as is his wont. I said nothing; I heard nothing. At the end of a mile, Mr. said : " Mark, are you sick ? I never saw a man look so haggard and worn and absent-minded. Say something ; do!" Drearily, without enthusiasm, I said : " Punch, brothers ! punch with care ! Punch in the presence of the passenjare ! " SELECTIONS. 237 My friend eyed me blankly, looked perplexed, then said : " I do not think I get your drift, Mark. There does not seem to be any relevancy in what you have said, certainly nothing sad ; and yet — maybe it was the way you said the words — I never heard anything that soun- ded so pathetic. What is — " Bat I heard no more. I was already far away with my pitiless, heart-breaking " blue trip slip for an eight- cent fare, buff trip slip for a six-cent fare, pink trip slip for a three-cent fare ; punch in the presence of the passenjare." I do not know what occurred during the other nine miles. However, all of a sudden, Mr. laid his hand on my shoulder and shouted : " O, wake up ! wake up ! wake up ! Don't sleep all day ! Here we are at the Tower, man ! I have talked myself deaf and dumb and blind, and never get a re- sponse. Just look at this magnificent autumn land- scape ! What do you say to this ? " I sighed wearily, and murmured : "A buff trip slip for a six-cent fare, a pink trip slip for a three-cent fare, punch in the presence of the pas- senjare." Rev. Mr. — stood there, very grave, full of con- cern, apparently, and looked long at me ; then he said : " Mark, there is something about this that I can not understand. Those are about the same words you said before ; there does not seem to be anything in them, and yet they nearly break my heart when you say them. Punch in the — how is it they go?" I began at the beginning and repeated all the lines. My friend's face lighted with interest. He said : " Why, what a captivating jingle it is ! It is almost music. It flows along so nicely. I have nearly caught the rhymes myself. Say them over just once more, and then I'll have them, sure." I said them over. Then Mr. said them. He made one little mistake, which I corrected. The next 238 NORMAL IM.ADER, time and the next he got them right. Now a great bunion seemed to tumble from my shoulders. That torturing jingle departed out of my brain. I was light-hearted enough to sing; and I did sing for half an hour. Then my treed tongue found blessed speech again. As I wrung my friend's hand at parting, I said : "Haven't we had a royal good time! But now I remember, you haven't said a word for two hour.-. Come, come, out with something!" The Rev. Mr. turned a lack-lustre eye upon me, drew a deep sigh, and said, without animation, without apparent consoiousne " Punch, brothers ! punch with care! Punch in the presence of the passenjare ! " A pang shot through me as I said to myself, " Poor fellow, poor fellow ! he has got it now." I did not see Mr. for two or three days after that. Then, on Tuesday evening, he staggered into my presence, and sank dejectedly into a seat. He was pale, worn; he was a wreck. He lifted his faded eyes to my face, and said : "Ah, Mark, it was a ruinous investment that I made in those heartless rhymes. They have ridden me like a nightmare, day and night, hour after hour, to this very moment. Since I saw you I have suffered the torments of the lost. Saturday evening I had a sud- den call by telegraph, and took the night train for Bos- ton. The occasion was the death of a valued old friend, who had requested that I should preach his funeral sermon. I took my seat in the cars and set myself to framing the discourse. But I never got beyond the opening paragraph ; for then the train started and the car- wheels began their ' clack-clack-clack-clack ! clack- clack-clack-clack ! ' and right away those odious rhymes fitted themselves to that accompaniment. For an hour I sat there and set a syllable of those rhymes to every separate and distinct clack the car-wheels made. Why, SELECTIONS. 239 I was as fagged out then as if I had been chopping wood all day. My skull was splitting with headache. It seemed to me that I must go mad if I sat there any longer ; so I undressed and went to bed. I stretched myself out in my berth, and — well, you know what the result was. The thing went right along, just the same. ' Clack-clack-clack, a blue trip slip, clack- clack-clack, for an eight-cent fare ; clack-clack-clack, a buff trip slip, clack-clack-clack, for a six-cent fare — and so on, and so on, and so on— punch in the pres- ence of the passenjare ! ? Sleep ? Not a single wink ! I was almost a lunatic when I got to Boston. Don't ask me about the funeral. I did the best I could ; but every solemn individual sentence was meshed and tangled and woven in and out with ' Punch, brothers ! punch with care ! Punch in the presence of the pas- senjare/ And the most distressing thing was that my delivery dropped into the undulating rythm of those pulsating rhymes, and I could actually catch absent- minded people nodding time to the swing of it with their stupid heads. And, Mark, you may believe it or not, but before I got through, the entire assemblage were placidly bobbing their heads in solemn unison, mourners, undertaker, and all. The moment I had finished, I fled to the ante-room in a state bordering on frenzy. Of course, it would be my luck to find a sorrowing and aged maiden aunt of the deceased there, who had arrived from Springfield too late to get into the church. She began to sob and said : " ' Oh, oh, he is gone, and I didn't see him before he died ! ' " ' Yes ! ' I said, c he is gone, he is gone, he is gone — oh, will this suffering never cease ?' " i Yon loved him, then ! Oh, you too loved him \' " i Loved him ! Loved who f ' " i Why, my poor George ! my poor nephew ! ? "'Oh — him! Yes — oh, yes, yes. Certainly — cer- tainly. Punch — -punch — oh, this misery will kill me ! ' 240 normal reader. " ' Bless you ! bless you, sir, for those sweet words! I, too, suffer in this dear loss. Were you present dur- ing his last momenta ".'* "'Yes! I — who8( last moments f* Ui His. The dear departed's/ "'Yes! Oh, yes — ye — yes! I suppose so, I think so. /don't know! Oh, certainly — 1 was there — 1 was there ! ' "'Oh, what a privilege! what a precious privilege. And his last word- — oh, tell me — tell me his last words! What did he say?' " ' He said — he said — oh, my head, my head, my head ? He said — he said — he never said anything but Punch, puneh, pwnch in the presence of the passenjare! Oh, leave me, madam ! In the name of all that is gener- ous, leave me to my madness, my misery, my despair! — a buff trip slip for a six-cent fare, a pink trip slip for a three-cent fare — endurance can no further go! — punch in the presence of the passenjare ! ? " My friend's hopeless eyes rested on mine a pregnant minute, and then he said impressively : "Mark, you do not say anything You do not offer me any hope. But, oh, me, it is just as well — it is just as well. You could not do me any good. The time has long gone by when words could comfort me. Something tells me that my tongue is doomed to wag forever to the jigger of that remorseless jingle. There — there it is coming on me again : a blue trip slip for an eight-cent fare, a buff* trip slip for a — n Thus murmuring faint and fainter, my friend sank into a peaceful trance, and forgot his sufferings in a blessed respite. — Mark Twain. THE BABY'S FIKST TOOTH. Mr. and Mrs. Jones had just finished their break- fast. Mr. Jones had pushed back his chair and was looking under the lounge for his boots. Mrs. Jones SELECTIONS. 241 sat at the table, holding the infant Jones and mechan- ically working her fingers in its mouth. Suddenly she paused in the motion, threw the astonished child on its back, turned as white as a sheet, pried open its mouth, and immediately gasped " Ephraim ! " Mr. Jones, who was yet on his knees with his head under the lounge, at once came forth, rapping his head sharp- ly, on the side of the lounge as he did so, and getting on his feet, inquired what was the matter. " O, Eph- raim," said she, the tears rolling down her cheeks and the smiles coursing up. "Why, what is it, Arama- thea ? " said the astonished Mr. Jones, smartly rubbing his head where he had come in contact with the lounge. " Baby ! " she gasped. Mr. Jones turned pale and commenced to sweat. " Baby ! O — O — O Ephraim ! Baby has — baby has got — a little toothey, oh! oh?" " No ! " screamed Mr. Jones. " I tell you it is," per- sisted Mrs. Jones, with a slight evidence of hysteria. "Oh it can't be!" protested Mr. Jones, preparing to swear it wasn't. "Come here and see for yourself," said Mrs. Jones. "Open its 'ittle mousy-wousy for its own muzzer ; that's a toody- woody ; that's a blessed 'ittle 'ump o' sugar." Thus conjured, the heir opened it's mouth sufficiently for the father to thrust in his finger, and that gentleman having convinced himself by the most unmistakable evidenee that a tooth was there, immediately kicked his hat across the room, buried his fist in the lounge, and declared with much feeling that he could lick the individual who would dare to intimate that he was not the happiest man on the face of the earth. Then he gave Mrs. Jones a hearty smack on the mouth and snatched up the heir, while that lady rushed tremblingly forth after Mrs. Simmons, who lived next door. In a moment Mrs. Simmons came tearing in as if she had been shot out of a gun, and right behind her came Miss Simmons at a speed that indicated that she had been ejected 16 242 NORMAL READER. from two gun-. Mrs. Simmons at once snatched the heir from the arm- of Mr. Jones and hurried it to the window, where she made a careful and critical ex- amination of its mouth, while Mrs. Jones held its head and Mr. Jones danced up and down the room, and snapped his fingers to show how calm he was. It having been ascertained by Mrs. Simmons that the tooth was a sound one, and' also that the strongest hopes for its fature could be entertained on account of its coming in the new moon, Mrs. Jones got out the necessary material and Mr. Jones at once pro- ceeded to write seven different letters to as many per- sons, unfolding to them the event of the morning and inviting them to come on as soon as possible. — Danowry News J fan. LIBERTY AND UNION. While the Union lasts we have high, exciting, grat- ifying prospects spread out before us, for us and our children. Beyond that I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that in my day, at least, that curtain may not rise. God grant that on my vision may never be opened what lies behind. When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dis- honored fragments of a once glorious Union ; on states dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering glance, rather be- hold the gorgeous ensign of the republic, now known and honored throughout the earth, still full high ad- vanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their origi- nal luster^ 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 — Liberty first and SELECTIONS. 243 Union afterward ; but everywhere, spread all over, in characters of living light, 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 senti- ment, dear to every true American heart,— Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable ! SCHOOLING A HUSBAND. Mrs. Centre was jealous. She was one of those dis- contented women who are never satisfied unless some- thing goes wrong. When the sky is bright and pleas- ant they are annoyed because there is nothing to grumble at. The trouble is not with the outward world, but with the heart, the mind. Her husband was a very good sort of person, though he probably had his peculiarities. At any rate, he had a cousin whose name was Sophia Smithers, and who was very pretty, very intelligent, and very amia- ble. Centre and his wife boarded at a private establish- ment. At the same house also boarded Centre's par- ticular, intimate, and confidential friend Wallis. Wallis could not help observing that Mrs. Centre watched her husband very closely, and Centre at last confessed that there had been some difficulty. So they talked the matter over together and came to the con- clusion that it was very stupid for any one to be jeal- ous. What they did, I don't know, but one evening Centre entered the room and found Mrs. Wallis there. " My dear, I am obliged to go out a few moments to call upon a friend," said Centre. " To call upon a friend ! " sneered Mrs. Centre. " Yes, my dear, I shall be back presently." "The old story." "If it was my husband I would follow him," said Mrs. Wallis. 244 NORMAL READER "I will! Sophia Smithera lives very near and I am sure he is going there." Centre had gone up stairs to put on his hat and overcoat, and in a moment she saw him on the Btairs. She could not mistake him, for there was no other gentleman in the house who won such a peculiarly Shaped Kossuth as he wore. He passed out and Mrs. Centre passed out after him. She followed the queer shaped Kossuth of her hus- band and it led her to C street, where she had expected it would lead her. And further, it led her to the house of Smithers, the father of Sophia. She was shown into the sitting-room where the beautiful girl of many virtues was engaged in sewing. "Is my husband here?" she demanded. " Mr. ( Jentre ? Bless you, no ! He hasn't been here for a month." Gracious! Hadn't she followed that unmistakable hat to the house? She was amazed at the coolness of her husband's fair cousin. Before she had believed it was only a flirta- tion ; now, she was sure it was something infinitely worse, and she thought about a divorce; or at least a separation. She was astonished and asked no more questions. Did the guilty pair hope to deceive her — her, the argus- eyed wife? She had some shrewdness, and she had the cunning to conceal her purpose by refraining from any appearance of distrust. After a few words upon com- mon-place topics, she took her leave. When she reached the sidewalk there she planted herself, determined to wait till Centre came out. For more than an hour she stood there nursing the yellow demon of jealousy. He came not. She was catching her death-cold. What did he care. He was bestowing his affections upon her who had no legal right to them. The wind blew, and it began to rain. She could SELECTIONS. 245 stand it no longer. She should die before she got the divorce. She must preserve her precious life for the present, and she reluctantly concluded to go home. She rushed into the house. Mrs. Wallis was there still. Throwing herself upon the sofa she wept like a great baby. While weeping, Mr. Centre entered the room, looking just as though nothing had happened. " You wretch ! " sobbed the lady. " What is the matter, my dear ? " coolly inquired the gentleman. "You wretch!" " What has happened ? " " You insult me, abuse me, and then ask me what the matter is ! Haven't I been waiting in C street for two hours for you to come out of Smithers' house?" "Have you?" " I have, you wretch ! " " And I didn't come out?" " No ! You know you didn't ! " " There was an excellent reason for that, my dear. I wasn't there." " You wasn't there, you wretch ! How dare you tell me such an abominable lie ! But I have found you out. You go there every day, yes, twice, three times a day ! I know your amiable cousin, now ! She can lie as well as you." " Sophia tell a lie ! Oh no, my dear ! " "But she did. She said you were not there." " That was very true ; I was not." " How dare you tell me such a lie ! You have been with Sophia all the evening." "Nay, Mrs. Centre, you are mistaken," interposed Mrs. Wallis, " Mr. Centre has been with me in this room all the evening." " What ! Didn't I see him go out, and follow him to C street?" " No, my dear, I haven't been out this evening. I changed my mind." 246 NORMAL READER. Just then Wallis entered the room with that peculiar Kossuth on lil — head, and the mystery was explained Mrs. Centre was not a little confused, and very much ashamed of herself. Wallis had been in Smithers' library Mnokingacigar, and had not seen Sophia- But Centre should have known better than to tell his wii'e what a pretty, intelligent, amiable and kind-hearted girl Sophia was. No husband should speak well of any lady but his wife. RURAL LIKE IN ENGLAND. In rural life there is nothing mean and debasing. It leads a man forth among scenes of natural grandeur and beauty ; it leaves him to the workings of his mind, operated upon by the purest and most (levating of ex- ternal influences. Such a man may be simple and rough, but he can not be vulgar, The man of refine- ment, therefore, finds nothing revolting in an inter- course with the lower orders in rural life, as he does when he casually mingles with the lower orders of cities. He lays aside his distance and reserve, and is glad to waive the distinctions of rank, and to enter into the honest, heartfelt enjoyments of common life. Indeed, the very amusements of the country bring men more and more together. It is a pleasing sight, of a Sunday morning, when the bell is sending its sober melody across the quiet fields, to behold the country folk, in their best finery, with ruddy faces and modest cheerfulness, thronging tranquilly along the green lanes to church ; but it is still more pleasing to see them in the evenings, gath- ering about their cottage doors, and appearing to exult in the humble comforts and embellishments which their own hands have spread around them. — Irving. SELECTIONS. 247 THE WHISTLE. " You have heard," said a youth to his sweetheart, who stood While he sat on a corn-sheaf at daylight's decline ; " You have heard of the Danish boy's whistle of wood : I wish that that Danish boy's whistle was mine ! " "And what would you do with it? Tell me," she said, While an arch smile played over her beautiful face. " I would blow it," he answered, " and then my fair maid W 7 ould fly to my side, and would there take her place." " Is that all you wish it for? That may be yours Without any magic," the fair maiden cried ; "A favor so light one's good nature secures," And she playfully seated herself by his side. " I would blow it again," said the youth, " and the charm W r ould work so that not even modesty's check Would be able to keep from my neck her fair arm." She smiled and placed her fair arm round his neck. " Yet once more would I blow, and the magic divine Would bring me a third time an exquisite bliss, You would lay your fair cheek to this brown one of mine, And your lips stealing past it would give me a kiss." The maiden laughed out in her innocent glee — " What a fool of yourself with the whistle you'd make ; For only consider how silly 't would be To sit there and whistle for what you might taken 9 ' THE BISING, 1776, Out of the North the wild news came. Far flashing on its wings of flame, Swift as the boreal light which flies, At midnight through the startled skies. And there was tumult in the air, The fife's shrill note, the drum's loud beat, And through the wide land everywhere The answering tread of hurrying feet ; While the first note of Freedom's gun Came on the blast from Lexington ; And Concord roused, no longer tame, Forgot her old baptismal name, Made bare her patriot arm of power, And swelled the discord of the hour. 248 NORMAL READER. Within it-; shade of elm and oak The church of Berkley Manor stood; There Sunday found the rural folk, And some esteemed of gentle blood ; 1 11 rain their feet with Loitering tread Passed 'mid the graves where rank i» naught; All could net read the LeSBOU taught In that republic of the dead. How sweet the hour of Sabbath talk, The vak- with peace and sunshine full, Where all the happy people walk. Decked in their homespun flax and wool j Where youth's gay hats with blossoms bloom, And every maid with simple art, Wear- <>n her breast, Like her own heart, A bud whose depths are all perfume; While every garment's gentle stir Is breathing rose and lavender. The pastor came; his snowy locks Hallowed his brow of thought and care; And calmly, as shepherds lead their flocks He led into the house of prayer. The pastor rose; The prayer was strong; The psalm was warrior David's song; The text, a few short words of might — " The Lord of hosts shall arm the right ! " He spoke of wrongs too long endured, Of sacred rights to be secured ; Then from his patriot tongue of flame The startling words for freedom came. The stirring sentences he spake, Compelled the heart to glow or quake, And, rising on his theme's broad wing, And grasping in his nervous hand The imaginary battle-brand, In face of death he dared to fling Defiance to a tyrant king. Even as he spoke, his frame, renewed In eloquence of attitude, Rose, as it seemed, a shoulder higher; Then swept his kindling glance of fire From startled pew to breathless choir; "When suddenly his mantle wide, His hands impatient flung aside, And, lo ! he met their wondering eyes Complete in all a warrior's guise. SELECTIONS. 249 A moment there was awful pause — When Berkley cried : " Cease, traitor ! cease, God's temple is the house of peace ! " The other shouted, " Nay, not so, When God is with our righteous cause; His holiest places then are ours. His temples are our forts and towers That frown upon the tyrant foe; In this, the dawn of Freedom's day, There is a time to fight and pray ! " And, now before the open door — The warrior priest had ordered so — The enlisting trumpet's sudden roar Rang through the chapel, o'er and o'er, Its long reverberating blow, So loud and clear, it seemed the ear Of dusty death must wake and hear. And there the startling drum and fife Fired the living with fiercer life ; While overhead, with wild increase, Forgetting its ancient toll of peace, The great bell swung as ne'er before, It seemed as it would never cease ; And every word its ardor flung From off its jubilant iron tongue Was "War! war! war!" " Who dares " this was the patriot's cry, As striding from his desk he came — " Come out with me, in Freedom's name, For her to live, for her to die?" A hundred hands flung up reply, A hundred voices answered, "I!" — T. B, Bead, THE MODEL AMERICAN GIRL, A practical, plain young girl • Not-afraid-of-the-rain, young girl , A poetical posy, A ruddy- and rosy, A helper-of-self, young girl. At-home-in-her-place, young girl; A never-will-lace, young girl ; A toiler serene, A life pure and clean, A princess-of-peace, young girL 250 NORMAL READER. A wear-her-o\vn-h:iir, young girl; A free-from-a-stare, young girl; Improves every hour, No sickly Btm-nower, A wealth-of rare-sense, young girl. Plenty-room-in-the-shoes, young irirl ; A free-from-the-blues, young girl; Not a bang on her brow, To fraud, not a bow ; She's-just-what Bhe-seei _irl. Not-a-reader-of-trash, young girl ; Not-a-cheap-jeweled-flash, young y-irl : Not a Bipper of rum, Not a chewer of gam, A marvel-of-sen^c, young girl. An early-retiring, young girl ; An active- aspiring, young girl; A morning ariser, A dandy despiser, A progressive-American girl. A lover-of-prose, young girl ; Not a-turn-up-your-nose, young girl; Not given to splutter, Not " utterly utter." But a-matter-of-fact, young girl. A rightly ambitious, young girl ; Eed lips-most-delicious, young girl; A sparkling clear eve, That says, " I will try," A sure-to-succeed, young girl. An honestly-courting, young girl ; A never-seen-flirting, young girl; A quiet and pure, A modest, demure, A fit-for-a-wife, young girl. A sought-everywhere, young girl ; A future-most-fair, young girl ; An ever discreet, We too seldom meet, This queen-among-queens, young girl. — Virgil A. Pinkley. SELECTIONS. 251 GAPE-SEED. A Yankee, walking the streets of London, looked through a window upon a group of men writing very rapidly ; and one of them said to him in an insulting manner, " Do you wish to buy some gape-seed ?" Pass- ing on a short distance, the Yankee met a man and asked him what the business of those men was in the office he had just passed. He was told that they wrote letters dictated by others, and transcribed all sorts of documents ; in short, they were writers. The Yan- kee returned to the office, and inquired if one of the men would write a letter for him, and was answered in the affirmative. He asked the price, and was told one dollar. After considerable talk, the bargain was made ; one of the conditions of which was that the scribe should write just what the Yankee told him to, or he should receive no pay. The scribe told the Yan- kee he was ready to begin ; and the latter said — " Dear marm : " and then asked, " Have you got that deown?" " Yes," was the reply, " go on" " I went to ride t'other day ; have you got that deown?" " Yes ; go on, go on" "And I harnessed up the old mare into the wagon ; have you got that deown ? " " Yes, yes, long ago ; go on." " Why, how fast you write ! And I got into the wagon, and sat deown, and drew up the reins, and took the whip in my right hand ; have you got that deown ?" " Yes, long ago ; go on" " Dear me, how fast you write ! I never saw your equal. And I said to the old mare, ' Go 'long,' and jerked the reins pretty hard ; have you got that deown ?" " Yes ; and I am impatiently waiting for more. I wish you wouldn't bother me with so many foolish questions. Go on with your letter." 252 NORMAL READER. " Well, the old mare wouldn't .stir out of her tracks, and I hollered, ' Go 'long, you old jade ! go 'long' Have you got that deown ? " " Yes, indeed, you pestif rous fellow ; go on." "And I licked her, and licked her, and licked her — [continuing to repeat these words as rapidly as possible,] " Hold on there! I have written two pages of ' licked her,' and I want the rest of the letter." "Well, and she kicked, and she kicked, and she kicked — [continuing to repeat these words with great rapidity]. "Do go on with your letter; I have several pages of i she kicked.' " [The Yankee clucks as in urging horses to move, and continues the clucking noise with rapid repetition for same time.] The scribe throws down his pen. "Write it deown I write it deown/" " I can't ! " " Well, then, I won't pay you." [The scribe, gathering up his papers."] "What shall I do with all these sheets upon which I have written your nonsense ? " " You may use them in doing up your gape-seed. Good-bye!" PITT'S KEPLY TO WALPOLE. The atrocious crime of being a young man, which the honorable gentleman has, with such spirit and de- cency, charged upon me, I shall neither attempt to palliate nor deny, but content myself with hoping that I may be one of those whose follies cease with their youth, and not of that number who are ignorant in spite of experience. Whether youth can be imputed to a man as a reproach, I will not assume the province of determining; but, surely age may become justly SELECTIONS, 253 contemptible, if the opportunities which it brings have passed away without improvement, and vice appears to prevail when the passions have subsided. The wretch who, after having seen the consequences of a thousand errors, continues still to blunder, and whose age has only added obstinacy to stupidity, is surely the object either of abhorrence or contempt, and deserves not that his gray hairs should secure him from insult. Much more is he to be abhorred who, as he has advanced in age, has receded from virtue, and become more wick- ed — with less temptation ; who prostitutes himself for money which he can not enjoy, and spends the remains of his life in the ruin of his country. But youth is not my only crime ; I am accused of acting a theatrical part. A theatrical part may either imply some peculiarity of gesture, or a dissimulation of my real sentiments and an adoption of the opinions and language of another man. In the first sense, the charge is too trifling to be confuted, and deserves only to be mentioned that it may be despised. I am at lib- erty, like every other man, to use my own language ; and though, perhaps, I may have some ambition to please this gentleman, I shall not lay myself under any restraint, nor very solicitously copy his diction or his mein, however matured by age or modeled by experi- ence. But, if any man shall, by charging me with theatri- cal behavior, imply that I utter any sentiments but my own, I shall treat him as a calumniator and a vil- lain, nor shall any protection shelter him from the treatment he deserves. I shall, on such an occasion, without scruple, trample upon all those forms with which wealth and dignity intrench themselves, nor shall anything but age restrain my resentment ; age, — which always brings one privilege, that of being insolent and supercilious without punishment. But, with regard to those whom I have offended, I am of opinion that, if I had acted a borrowed part, I 254 NORMAL READER. should have avoided their censure; the heat that of- fended them was the ardor of conviction and that zeal for the service of my country which neither hope nor fear shall influence me to suppress. I will not sit un- concerned while my liberty is invaded, nor look in si- lence upon public robbery. I will exert my endeavors, at whatever hazard, to repel the aggressor and drag the thief to justice, whoever may protect him in his villainies, and whoever may partake of his plunder. BOOT-BLACKS. A day or two ago, two boot-blacks, one white and one black, were standing at the corners, when the white boot-black agreed to black the black boot-black's boots. The black boot-black was, of course, willing to have his boots blacked by his fellow boot-black, and the boot-black who had agreed to black the black boot-black's boots went to work. When the boot-black had blacked one of the black boot-black's boots till it shone in a manner that would make any boot-black proud, this boot-black who had agreed to black the black boot-black's boots now re- fused to black the other boot of the black boot-black until the black boot-black, who had consented to have the white boot-black black his boots, should add five cents to the amount the white boot-black had made blacking other men's boots. This the boot-black whose boot had been blacked refused to do, saying it was good enough for a black boot-black to have one boot blacked, and he didn't care w r h ether the boot that tne white boot-black hadn't blacked was blacked or not. This made the boot-black who had blacked the black boot-black's boot as angry as a boot-black often gets, and he vented his black wrath by spitting upon the blacked boot of the black boot-black. This roused the latent passions of the black boot-black, and he pro- SELECTIONS. 255 ceecled to boot the white boot-black with the boot which the white boot-black had blacked. A fight en- sued, in which the white boot-black who had refused to black the unblacked boot of the black boot-black, blacked the black boot-black's eye, and in which the black boot-black wore all the blacking off his blacked boot in booting the white boot-black. EEPLY TO ME. WICKHAM IN BUER'S TEIAL, IN 1807. In proceeding to answer the argument of the gen- tleman, I will treat him with candor. If I misrepre- sent him, it will not be intentional. I will not follow the example which he has set me on a very recent oc- casion. I will endeavor to meet the gentleman's propositions in their full force, and to answer them fairly. I will not, as I am advancing toward them, with my mind's eye measure the height, breadth and power of the proposition ; if I find it beyond my strength, halve it ; if still beyond my strength, quar- ter it ; if still necessary, subdivide it into eighths ; and when, by this process, I have reduced it to the proper standard, take one of these sections and toss it with an air of elephantine strength and superiority. If I find myself capable of conducting, by a fair course of reasoning, any one of his propositions to an absurd conclusion,. I will not begin by stating that absurd conclusion as the proposition itself which I am going to encounter. I will not, in commenting on the gen- tleman's authorities, thank the gentleman, with sarcas- tic politeness, for introducing them, declare that they conclude directly against him, read just so much of the authority as serves the purpose of that declaration, omitting that which contains the true point of the case, which makes against me ; nor, if forced by a direct call to read that part also, will I content myself by running over it as rapidly and inarticulately as I can, 256 NORMAL READER. throw down the book with a theatrical air, and exclaim, "Just as I said!" when I know it is just as I had not said. I know that, by adopting these arts, I might raise a laugh at the gentleman's expense; but I should be very little pleased with myself if I were capable ot enjoying a laugh procured by such means. I know, too, that, by adopting such arts, there will always be those standing around us who have not comprehended the whole merits of the legal discussion, with whom I might shake the character of the gentleman's science and judgment as a lawyer. I hope I shall never be capable of such a wish ; and I had hoped that the gentleman himself felt so strongly that proud, that high, aspiring and ennobling magnanimity, which I had been told conscious talents rarely fail to inspire, that he would have disdained a poor and fleeting tri- umph gained by means like these. — William Wirt. TOO LATE FOR THE TRAIN. When they reached the depot, Mr. Mann and his wife gazed in unspeakabel disappointment at the re- ceding train, which was just pulliug away from the bridge switch at the rate of a mile a minute. Their first impulse was to run after it, but as the train was out of sight and whistling for Sagetown before they could act upon the impulse, they remained in their car- riage and disconsolately turned their horses' heads homeward. Mr. Mann broke the silence, very grimly : " It all comes of having to wait for a woman to get ready." " I was ready before you were," replied his wife. " Great heavens," cried Mr. Mann, with great im- patience, nearly jerking the horses' jaws out of place, "just listen to that! And I sat in the buggy ten SELECTIONS. 257 minutes yelling at you to come along until the whole neighborhood heard me." " Yes," acquiesced Mrs. Mann, with the provoking placidity which no one can assume but a woman, "and every time I started down stairs you sent me back for something you had forgotten." Mr. Mann groaned. " This is too much to bear," he said, " when everybody knows that if I were going to Europe I would just rush into the house, put on a clean shirt, grab up my grip-sack, and fly, while you would want at least six months for preliminary prepa- rations, and then dawdle around the whole day of starting until every train had left town." Well, the upshot of the matter was that the Manns put off their visit to Aurora until the next week, and it was agreed that each one should get himself or her- self ready and go. down to the train and go, and the one who failed to get ready should be left. The day of the match came around in due time. The train was going at 10 : 30, and Mr. Mann, after attending to his business, went home at 9 : 45. "Now, then," he shouted, "only three-quarters of an hour's time. Fly around ; a fair field and no fa- vors, you know." ' And awlay they flew. Mr. Mann bulged into this room and flew through that one, and dived into one closet after another with inconceivable rapidity, chuck- ling under his breath all the time to think how cheap Mrs. Mann would feel when he started off alone. He stopped on his way up stairs to pull off his heavy boots to save time. For the same reason he pulled off his coat as he ran through the dining-room, and hung it on the corner of the silver closet. Then he jerked off his vest as he rushed through the hall and tossed it on the hat-rack hook, and by the time he had reached his own room he was ready to plunge into his clean clothes. He pulled out a bureau drawer and 258 NORMAL READER. began to paw at the things like a Scotch terrier after a rat. "Eleanor," he shrieked, "where are my shirts?" " In your bureau drawer," calmly replied Mrs. Mann, who was standing before a glass calmly and deliberately coaxing a refractory crimp into place. "Well, but they ain't!" shouted Mr. Mann, a little- annoyed. " I've emptied everything out of the drawer, and there isn't a thing in it I ever saw before." Mrs. Mann stepped back a few paces, held her head on one side, and alter satisfying herself that the crimp would do, replied: "These things scattered arouno on the floor are all mine. Probably you haven't been looking into your own drawer." "I don't see why you couldn't have put my things out for me when you had nothing else to do all the morning." " Because nobody put mine out for me. A fair field and no favors, my dear." Mr. Mann plunged into his shirt like a bull at a red flag. "Foul!" he shouted, in malicious triumph, "No buttons on the neck ! " "Because," said Mrs. Mann, sweetly, after a deliber- ate stare at the fidgeting, impatient man, during which she buttoned her dress and put eleven pins where they w r ould do the most good, " because you have got the shirt on wrong side out." When Mr. Mann slid out of the shirt he began to sweat. He dropped the shirt three times before he got it on, and while it was over his head he heard the clock strike ten. When his head came through he saw Mrs. Mann coaxing the ends and bows of her nicktie. " Where are my shirt studs?" he cried. Mrs. Mann went out into another room and presently came back with gloves and hat, and saw Mr. Mann emptying all the boxes he could find in and around the SELECTIONS. 259 bureau. Then she said, "In the shirt you just pulled off." Mrs. Mann put on her gloves, while Mr. Mann hunt- ed up and down the room for his cuff-buttons. "Eleanor," he snarled, at last, "I believe you must know where those cuff-buttons are." " I haven't seen them," said the lady, settling her hat; "didn't you lay them down on the window-sill in the sitting-room last night?" Mr. Mann remembered, and he went down stairs on the run. He stepped on one of his boots and was im- mediately landed in the hall at the foot of the stairs with neatness and dispatch, attended in the transmission with more bumps than he could count with Webb's Adder, and landed with a bang like the Hell Gate ex- plosion. "Are you nearly ready, Algernon?" sweetly asked the wife of his bosom, leaning over the banisters. The unhappy man groaned. " Can't you throw me down the other boot?" he asked. Mrs. Mann, pityingly, kicked it down to him. " My valise?" he inquired, as he tugged at the boot. " Up in your dressing room," she answered. "Packed?" " I do not know ; unless you packed it yourself, pro- bably not," she replied, with her hand on the door knob ; " I had barely time to pack my own." She was passing out of the gate when the door opened, and he shouted, "Where in the name of goodness did you put my vest? It has all my money in it!" " You threw it on the hat rack," she called. " Good- bye, dear." Before she got to the corner of the street she was hailed again. " Eleanor ! Eleanor ! Eleanor Mann ! Did you wear off my coat?" She paused and turned, after signaling the street 2G0 NORMAL READER. car to stop, and cried, " You threw it in the silver closet." The street car engulfed her graceful form and she was >ccn no more. But the neighbors say that they heard Mr. Mann charging up and down the house, rushing out of the fronl door every now and then. shrieking after the unconscious Mrs. Mann, to knew where hi- hat was, and where she put the vali>c k< ■; . and if >he had his clean socks and undershirts, and that then- wasn't a linen collar in the house. And when he went away at last, he left the kitchen door, the side door and the front door, all the down stairs windows and the front irate, wide open. The loungers around the depot were somewhat amused, just a- the train was pulling out of sight down in the yards, to see a flushed, enterprising man, with his hat on sideways, his vest unbuttoned and necktie flying, and his grip-sack flapping open and shut like a demented shutter on a March night, and a door key in his hand, dash wildly across the platform and halt in the middle of the track, glaring in dejected, impo- tent, wrathful mortification at the departing train, and shaking his fist at a pretty woman who was throwing kisses at him from the rear platform of the last car. FRETTING. A few years ago, a friend and myself were traveling, on horseback, in Southern Illinois. The day w r as cold and stormy, hence we stopped at a farm-house on the wayside to warm. "We saw, as we approached, ten or twelve children, all of whom looked like twins, pres- sing their noses against the window panes. We en- tered, and found a real bedlam. The children were rude and noisy, and were bounding over the floor like gazelles. The father scolded, and the mother fretted. They SELECTIONS. 261 said the dear ones were usually quite agreeable to strangers. The children had been eating molasses and jelly, and were visibly sweet. Now, I do really love sweet children, but in this case I disliked the sweet- ness, for there was too much of it. They climbed upon the back of my chair, and affectionately printed the pictures of their honey hands upon my shirt front. One of these promising boys slipped a snow-ball into my boot. In a few moments I found my boot full of water. That water was wet, it generally is in that lo- cality ; but in this case it was exceedingly wet. My surroundings were growing more frightful. I longed for a missionary or a policeman. But relief came at last, for the father shouted : " Get out of that, you little knaves." They got. They darted away like terrified rats. In a few moments these " little knaves " came forth from their hiding places and the following dialogue ensued : " Ma," said boy number one, " how long will these men stay here ? " The boy spoke in semi-aspirate, and the mother whispered, li Billy, hush, or I will put you in the closet." " Will the men be gone when I get out ? " "Do hush." "Why must I hush?" My friend was lame, and wore a high-heeled boot. The boy noticed it and said in full voice, and laugh- ing as he spoke : " Oh, ma, look at that man's foot. He has a pep- per-box on his heel. He walks just like Sam's old mule." " Billy," exclaimed the father, " come here, and I will stop your mouth." The boy cowered by the side of his sire. In a mo- ment the boy murmured : "Pa, what is the matter with Sam's mule?" "String-haltered," whispered the father. 262 NORMAL READER. "Is that man string-haltered?" My friend began to sweat, and moved toward the door. I appointed myself a committee of one to with- draw from the room. Amid the cheering yells of the father, the sweet notes of the boy, and the melodious shrieks of the mother, we took our departure. We stopped at the next house. A boy met us at the door; pulling off three-fourths of a hat, he told us to oo me in. The two little girls sat quietly by the win- dow. The mother smiled pleasantly, and everything was in good order. Now, what made the noticeable difference? Simply one household was continually fretting and whining. The peculiar characteristic of some people is whin- ing. They whine because they are poor, and they whine because they are sick and can not enjoy their riches; they whine because they are out of employ- ment, and no sensible man will give them employment because they whine ; they fret until they take the headache, and of course take the headache on account of fretting; they whine because they are ugly, and they are painfully ugly because they whine. I would have such persons taken out and whipped until they laugh. — J. V. a BILL AND I. The moon had just gone down, sir. But the stars lit up the sky ; All was still in tent and town, sir. Not a foeman could we spy. It was our turn at picket, So we marched into the thicket, To the music of the cricket Chirping nigh. Oh, we kept a sharp lookout, sir, But no danger could we spy, And no foeman being about, sir, We sat down there by and by; SELECTIONS. 263 And we watched the brook a- brawling And counted the stars a-fallin', Old memories overhaul in', Bill and I. And says he, " Won't it be glorious When we throw our muskets by, And home again, victorious, We hear our sweethearts cry, ' Welcome back ! ' " A step ! Who goes there ? A shot — by Heaven, the foe's there ! Bill sat there, all composure, But not I. By the red light of his gun, sir, I marked the daring spy. In an instant it was done, sir — ■ I had fired and heard a cry. I sprang across a stream, sir — Oh, it seems just like a dream, sir, The dizzy, dying gleam, sir, Of that eye? A youth, a very boy, sir, I saw before me lie ; Some pretty school-girl's toy, sir, Had ventured here to die. We had hated one another, But I heard him murmer, "Mother/" So I stooped and whispered, "Brother/" No reply. I crossed the stream once more, sir, To see why Bill warn't by ; He was sittin' as before, sir, But a film was o'er his eye. I scarce knew what it meant, sir, Till a wail broke from our tent, sir, As into camp we went, sir, Bill and I. THE TEANSPOETATION OF MITCHELL. There is a black ship upon the southern sea this night. Far from his own, old land — far from the sea, and soil, and sky, which, standing here, he used to 264 NORMAL READER. claim for you with all the pride of a true Irish prince — far from that circle of fresh, young hearts, in whose light, and joyousness, and warmth, his own drank in each evening new life and vigor — far from that young wife, in whose heart the kind hand of heaven has kin- dled a gentle heroism — sustained by which she looks with serenity and pride upon her widowed house, and in the children that girdle her with beauty, beholds but the inheritors of a name, which, to their last breath, will secure to them the love, the honor, the blessing of their country — far from these scenes and joys, clothed and fettered as a felen, he is borne to an island, whereon the rich, and brilliant, and rapacious power of which he was the foe, has doomed him to a dark existence. That sentence must 1><- reversed — reversed by the decree of a nation, arrayed in arms and in glory ! Think! oh, think! of how, with throbbing heart and kindling eye, he will look out across the waters that imprison him, searching in the eastern sky for the flag that will announce to him his liberty, and the tri- umph of sedition ! Think ! oh, think ! of that day, when thousands and tens of thousands will rush down to the water's edge, as a distant gun proclaims his return — mark the ship as it dashes through the waves and nears the shore — behold him standing there upon the deck — the same calm, intrepid, noble heart — his clear, quick eye runs along the shore, and fills with the light which flashes from the bayonets of the people — a moment's pause, and then, amid the roar of the cannon, the fluttering of a thousand flags, the pealing of the cathedral bells, the triumphant felon sets his foot once more upon his native soil— hailed, and blessed, and worshiped as the first citizen of our free and sovereign state ! —I. F. Meagher. SELECTIONS. 265 WOKKINGMEN'S SONG. Whom do we call our heroes? To whom our praises sing? The pampered child of fortune, The titled lord or king ! They live by others' labor, Take all and nothing give. The noblest types of manhood Are those who work to live. Chohus. Then, honor to our workingmen, The hardy sons of toil, The heroes of the workshop, The monarchs of the soil. Who spans the earth with iron ? Who rears the palace dome ? W T ho creates for the rich man The comforts of his home ? It is the patient toiler: All honor to him, then ; The true wealth of the nation Is in her workingmen. For many barren ages Earth hid her treasures deep And all her giant forces Seemed bound as in a sleep ; Then Labor's anvil chorus* Broke on the startled air, And, lo ! the earth in rapture Laid all her riches bare. » 'Tis toil that over nature Gives man his proud control; It purifies and hallows The temple of the soul ; It scatters foul diseases, W T ith all their ghastly train ; Puts iron in the muscle, And crystal in the brain. The great Almighty builder W T ho fashioned out this earth, Has stamped his seal of honor On Labor from her birth. In every angel flower That blossoms from the sod, Behold the master touches — The handiwork of God. — Hemy Clay Preuss. 266 NORMAL READER. THE GRAVE. The sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow from which we refuse to be divorced. Every other wound we seek to heal; every other affliction, to forget ; hut this wound we consider it a duty to keep open. This affliction we cherish, and brood over in solitude. Where is the mother who would willingly forget the infant that lias perished like a blossom from her arms, though every recollection is a pang? Where is the child that would willingly forget a tender parent, though to re- member be but to lament? Who, even in the hour of agony, would forget the friend over whom he mourns. No, the love which survives the tomb is one of the noblest attributes of the soul. If it has its woes, it has likewise its delights; and when the overwhelming burst of grief is calmed into the gentle tear of recol- lection ; when the sudden anguish and the convulsive agony over the present ruins of all that we most loved, is softened away into pensive meditation on all that it was in the days of its loveliness, who would root out such a sorrow from the heart? Though it may, some- times, throw a passing cloud over the bright hour of gayety, or spread a deeper sadness over the hour of gloom, yet, who would exchange it even for the song of pleasure or the burst of revelry? No, there is a voice from the tomb sweeter than song. There is a remembrance of the dead to which we would turn even from the charms of the living. Oh, the grave ! the grave ! It buries every error, covers every defect, extinguishes every resentment! From its peaceful bosom spring none but fond regrets and tender recollections. Who can look down upon the grave even of an enemy, and not feel a compunc- tious throb, that he should have warred with the poor handful of earth that lies moldering before him? But the grave of those we loved — what a place for medita- tion ! There it is, that we call up, in long review, the SELECTIONS. 267 whole history o* virtue and gentleness, and the thou- sand endearments lavished upon us, almost unheeded in the daily intercourse of intimacy. Aye, go to the grave of buried love, and meditate ! There settle the account with thy conscience for every past benefit unrequited ; every past endearment unre- garded, of that departed being, who can never — never — never return. Then weave thy chaplet of flowers, and strew the beauties of nature about the grave ; console thy bro- ken spirit, if thou canst, with these tender, yet futile tributes of regret ; but take warning by the bitterness of this, thy contrite affliction over the dead, and hence- forth, be more faithful and affectionate in the discharge of thy duties to the living. — Washington Irving. BROKEN HEAETS. Man is the creature of interest and ambition. His nature leads him forth into the struggle and bustle of the world. Love is but the embellishment of his early life, or a song piped in the intervals of the acts. He seeks for fame, for fortune, for space in the world's thought, and dominion over his fellow-men. But a woman's whole life is a history of the affections. The heart is her world ; it is there her ambition strives for empire ; it is there her avarice seeks for hidden treas- ures. She sends forth her sympathies on adventure ; she embarks her whole soul in the traffic of affection ; and if shipwrecked, her case is hopeless, for it is a bankruptcy of her heart. To a man, the disappointment of love may occasion some bitter pangs ; it wounds some feelings of tender- ness — it blasts some prospects of felicity ; but he is an active being; he may dissipate his thoughts in the whirl of varied occupation, or may plunge into the tide of pleasure ; or, if the scene of disappointment be NORMAL READER. too full of painful associations, he can shift hie abode at will, and taking, as it were, the wings of the morn- ing, can "fly to the uttermost part of the earth, and be at rest." But woman's is comparatively a fixed, a secluded, and a meditative life. She is more the companion of her own thoughts and feelings; and if they arc turned to ministers of sorrow, where shall she look for con- solation? lit!" lot 18 to be wooed and won; and if unhappy in her love, her heart is like some fortress that has been captured, and sacked, and abandoned, and left desolate. How many bright eyes -row dim — how many soft cheeks grow pale — how many lovely forms lade away into the tomb, and none can tell tie cause that blighted their loveliness! As the dove will clasp its wings to its side, and cover and conceal the arrow that is prey- ing on its vitals, so it is the nature of woman to hide from the world the pangs of wounded affection. The love of a delicate female is always shy and silent. Even when fortunate, she scarcely breathe- it to herself; but when otherwise, she buries it in the recesses of her bosom, and there lets it cower and brood among the ruins of her peace. With her the desire of the heart has failed. The great charm of existence is at an end. She neglects all the cheerful exercises which gladden the spirits, quicken the pulses, and send the tide of life in healthful currents through the veins. Her rest is broken ; the sweet refreshment of sleep is poisoned by melancholy dreams; "dry sorrow drinks her blood," until her enfeebled frame sinks under the slightest external injury. Look for her, after a little while, and you will find friendship weeping over her untimely grave, and won- dering that one who but lately glowed with all the radiance of health and beauty should so speedily be brought down to "darkness and the worm." You will be told of some wintry chill, some casual indispo- SELECTIONS. 269 sition, that laid her low; but no one knows of the mental malady that previously sapped her strength, and made her so easy a prey to the spoiler. She is like some tender tree, the pride and beauty of the grove ; graceful in its form, bright in its foliage, but with the worm preying at its heart. We find it suddenly withering when it should be most fresh and luxuriant. We see it drooping its branches to the earth, and shedding leaf by leaf, until, wasted and per- ished away, it falls even in the stillness of the forest ; and as we muse over the beautiful ruin, we strive in vain to recollect the blast or thunderbolt that could have smitten it with decay. — Washington Irving. THE DUTCHMAN'S SEEENADE. Vake up, -my schveet ! Vake up, my lofe ! Der moon dot can't been seen abofe. Vake oud your eyes, und dough it's late, I'll make you oud a serenate. Der shtreet dot's kinder dampy vet, Und dhere vas no goot blace to set ; My fiddle's getting oud of dune, So blease get vakey wery soon. O my lofe ! my lofely lofe ! Am you avake ub dhere abofe, Feeling sad und nice to hear Schneider's fiddle schrabin near? Veil, anyvay, obe loose your ear, Und try to saw uf you kin hear Frorn dem bedclose vat you'm among, Der little song I'm going to sung : O lady ! vake ! Get vake ! Und hear der tale I'll tell; Oh ! you vot's schleepin' sound ub dhere I like you pooty veil ! Your plack eyes dhem don't shine Ven you'm ashleep — so vake ! (Yes, hurry ub und voke ub quick, For gootness cracious sake ! ) 270 My daks I ■ E — Tjmminy ' — IT. are CI I vak ke ! ' Vake I Fire ! Murder IP O cracious! do vak- ■ ke a fool, . mit my fiddk ; off B vet und shlobbv like a n THE LAST HY1I :red day -was ending in a village by the The uttered benediction touched t: And they rose to face the ... -vest, And then hastened to their dwellings for God - But they looked across the waters, and e spirit moved above them — the wild spirit And it lashed and shook and tore them, till they thundered. groaned, and boomed. And. alas! for any vessel in their yawning gulfs entombed! md anxious were the people, on that rocky coast of Wales, he dawns of coming mo:. Ld be telling fearful tales, o the sea had 5] ^nd should cast upc i Tangled wreck and swollen vie: bad done here: With the rough winds W rare woman strained her e And she saw along the billow- fall and rise- On. it did not need a prophet I : the end must be, For no ship could ride in safety near that shore on such a sea. SKL^BCTIOISS. 271 Then the pitying people hurried from their homes and thronged ~r: :: ;r:ss :ke ~a:ers r.ir. :ke yeri-k:::.:- :; vf Helpless hands were wrong for sorrow ; tender hearts grew cold I :ae ship, urged by the tempest, to the fatal r: : s ped. tt She has parted in thr ai Oh, the half of her goes down ! >:k ka~e mercy :> hi; header :kr :•: »eek :;: :k.;sf ~a; '::■:-■: when next the white ka ;ked faces looked with terror on the - i -'"." :~f las" :!;- m:: ± ' :k: ;. : e w i ?var ^as seen to be . . . . reck across the wave. And the man still clung and floated, though no power on earth ..all - ~ ; ■Ccv.'a ~ e semi klm a ka:r: message '. Here's a mamye:. >k:a: :■— :■-." - " - '.'-- pumlmrfs hand tha: : nit il and he wondered what to % has sermon 1 Firstly 1 Secondly? Ah, no I There was but one thing to ut: awful hour B he shouted through the trunipe: 1 Jesus Can you 1 . im: waters loud and clear. Then isftened: "He is singing Jesus Lover of my soul.'" And the winds brought ha ; k I he e While the nearer warn rs :k Strang H - s I e i i hi " Till the storm of life is ( i s I Simckm ravel y ir:m :ke waters a, receive my sou] (tlasl >1 ii.iv; "Hangs my helpless soul on Thee; : ih lea~e me r. - — :ke singer dropped at last into the And the watchers, looking homeward through their eyes by tears male lim. Hie passed to k . m ii h Jesus in the singing of that hym THE WATEK-M1TL. '■.rough all the live-long 1 As the . - king of the wheels wears hour by hour ai :ae autumn wind doth stir the withered leaves, - rs sing while binding up the sheaves ! A solemn p? ikes my mind, and as a spell is *The mill wi grind again with water tk 272 NORMAL READER. The summer winds revive no more leaves strewn o'er earth and main, The sickle never more- will nap the yellow garnered grain; The rippling stream flows ever on, aye, tranquil, deep and still. But never glidcth hark again to busy water-mill. The solemn proverb -peaks to all, with meaning deep and vast "The mill will never grind again with water that is past." Oh ! clasp the proverb to thy BOUl, dear loving heart and true, For golden years are fleeting bv, and youth is passing too; All ! learn to make the most 01 lih , nor lose one happy day, For time will ne'er return sweet joys neglected, thrown away; Nor leave one tender word unsaid, thy kindness sow broadcast — "The mill will never grind again with water that is past." Oh ! the wasted hours of life, that have swiftly drifted by, Alas! the good we might have done, all gone without a sighj Love that we might onee have Baved by a single kindly word. Thoughts conceived but ne'er expressed, perishing unpenned, un- heard. Oh ! take the lesson to thy soul, forever clasp it fast, "The mill will never grind again with water that is past." Work on while yet the sun doth shine, thou man of strength and will, The streamlet ne'er doth useless glide by clicking water-mill; Nor wait until to-morrow's light beams brightly on thy way, For all that thou canst call thine own lies in the phrase " to-day ; Possessions, power, and blooming health, must all be lost at last — '* The mill will never grind again with water that is past." Oh ! love thy God and fellow man, thyself consider last, For come it will when thou must scan dark errors of the past; Soon will this fight of life be o'er, and earth recede from view, And heaven in all its glory shine where all is pure and true. Ah ! then thou'lt see more clearly still the proverb deep and vast, "The mill will never grind again with water that is past." — D. C. McCallum. DOT LAMBS VOT MARY HAF GOT. Mary haf got a leetle lambs already ; Dose vool vas vite like shnow ; Und efery times dot Mary did vend oued, Dot lambs vent also oued vid Mary. Dot lambs did follow Mary von day of der school-house, Vich vas obbosition to der rules of der schoolmaster, Also, vich it dit caused dose schillen to schmile out loud, Ven dey did saw dose lambs on der insides of der school-house. SELECTIONS. 273 Und zo dot schoolmaster did kick dot lambs quick oued, Likevize, dot lambs dit loaf around on der outsides, Und did shoo der flies mit his tail off patiently aboud, Until Mary did come also from dot school-house oued. Und den dot lambs did run right away quick to Mary, Und dit make his het on Mary's arms, Like he would say, " I dond vas schared, Mary would keep from drouble ena how." Vot vas der reason aboud it, of dot lambs und Mary?" Dose echillen did ask it dot schoolmaster ; Yell,