m^^oo/( £mAR SMiRMfif PuBusHER, /VTA/ Ymi LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. -yjfAr^M @|ap, ©ojtjjriglt !|a*— UNITED STATES OF AMERICJ ERICA. W^'^Wff DELSARTE Recitation Book AND DIRECTORY EDITED BY KlvSIE NI. W^IIvBOR ©tlglnal 1fllu0tration0 NEW YORK EDGAR S. WERNER 28 West 23d Street. 1890 Copyright, 1889, BY EDGAR S. WERNER. CONTENTS. Arranged A' Aboot It. — By William Lyle, , Absolution. — By E. Nesbit^ . Anne Hathaway, ..... At the Tunnel's Mouth. — By Fred Lyster^ Auctioning off the Baby, Baby's First Tooth, The, B. B. Romance, The. — By Edgar Fawcett. by Elsie M. Wilbor^ .... Bell of Innisfare, The, .... Boy's Conclusion, A, . Bread. A favorite recitation of Delsarte's. — Trans- lated by Elsie M, Wilbor, Suggestive Analysis by Genevieve Stebbins Thompson^ ..... Candor. — By H. C. B miner ^ ..... Civil Wa.r. — Translated by Lucy H. Hooper^ Cobra, The. — By Miller Hageifian. Illustrated, . Conversational, .»....., Count Gismond. — By Robert Brownings Discussion, The, 150 Doll Drill, The. — By Adelaide Norris. Music arranged by O. E. McFadofi^ . . . . . . -91 Drops. — By Peter Robert son^ . ... . .240 Dutch Lullaby, A. — By Eugene Fields . . . .10 Even This Shall Pass x\way, 165 Ever so Far Away. — By Von Boyle ^ . . . .219 Faith and Works. — By William H. Montgomery^ . .136 197 72 100 12 117 268 246 96 195 214 194 265 129 153 157 iv CONTENTS. PAGE First Banjo, The, . . . . . „ . .21 Government Spy, The. — By W. W. Story. Arranged by Elsie M. WilboVy . . . . . . .24 Grandfather Watts's Private Fourth. — By If . C. Bunner 120 Haunted by a Song. With music, . . . .113 Her Answer, ........ 9 Her Lovers, 68 Hints for Statue-Poses.-By Elsie M. Wilbor^ . . 302 How Burlington was Saved. — By C. Mair, . . -137 Hundred Louis d'Or, The. A favorite recitation of Delsarte's. — Translated by Mrs. S. H. Dow. Sug- gestive Analysis by Genevieve Stebbins Thompson^ . i Incident of the Johnstown Flood, An. — By Mrs. S. Etta Youngs ......... 49 Jack Hall's Boat-Race. — By Robert Grant. Arranged by Elsie M. Wilbor, 181 Jimmy Brown's Dog. — By William L. Alden. Arranged by Elsie M. Wilbor^ . . . . . . .275 John Spicer on Clothes. — By Mrs. Abby Morton Diaz. Arranged by Elsie M. Wilbor, . . . . .285 Joker's Mistake, The. Pantomime. — By Le^nuel B. C. Josephs, . . . . . . . . . 41 Jovita ; or, The Christmas Gift.— By Bret Harte. Ar- ranged hy Elsie M. Wilbor, . . . . . 168 Kitchen Clock, The. — By John Vance Cheney. Illus- trated, ......... 260 Ladies of Athens. Greek Play. — By Mrs. M. A. Lips- comb, ......... 78 Little White Beggars, The. — By Helen W. Ludlow, . 118 Lord Clive. —By Robert Browning. Arranged by Elsie M. Wilbor. Analysis by E. Townsend Southwick, . 198 Lost, . .31 Low-Backed Car, The. — By Samuel Lover. With music, 153 Mammy's LiT Boy. — By H. S. Edwards, . . . 262 Marriage of the Flowers, The. — By 6". H. M. Byers, . 187 Mary Jane and I. — By Annie Rothwell, . . . 237 CONTENTS. V PAGE Massacre of Zoroaster, The. — By Marion Crawford. Arranged by Elsie M, Wilbor, Music by Silas G, Fratty . . . . . . . . .225 Masque of the New Year, The. — Arranged by Elsie M. Wilbor, ......... 44 Mickey Free's Letter to Mrs. M'Gra.— By Charles Lever, Arranged by John A. MacCabe^ . . . 244 Minister's Housekeeper, The. — By Mrs. H. B. Stowe. Arvsinged by Elsie M. IVilbor^ . . . . .101 Minuet, The. — By Mrs. Mary Mapes Dodge. With music, 2>Z Modern Version of " The Merchant of Venice," A. — By Joseph Barber., . . . . . . .122 Molly. — By Anita M. Kellogg., 15 News of the Day, . . . . . . . .212 Oh, Sir ! — Translated by Alfred Ayres, ... 4 Old Church, The. — By H. H. Johnson., . . .191 or Pickett's Nell.— By Mather D. Kimball, . .272 Opal Ring, The. — By Gottlieb Lessing. Arranged by Sara S. Rice, ........ 18 Perdita, 53 Pet and Bijou. — By Helen Mar Bean, . . . .251 Piano Music, . . . . . . . .127 Playing School. — By Lida P. Caskin, . . . .40 Proposal, The. — By Margaret Vandegrift, . . .167 Romance of a Year. — By Mrs. John Sherwood. With music, ......... 280 Rom aunt of the Page. — By Mrs. Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Arranged by Elsie M. Wilbor, . .140 Schoolma'am's Courting, The. — By Florence E, Fyatt, . 176 Shadow of a Song, The. — By Campbell Fae-Brown, . 287 Snow- Flakes and Snow- Drifts. — By Martha T. Gale., . 38 Star-Spangled Banner, The. — By Jessie F. O' Donnell ., . 299 Sue an' Me. — ^y F>avid Belasco, . . . . .148 Stanzas to Eternity. A favorite recitation of Delsarte's. — Translated by Elsie M. Wilbor. Illustrated, . 70 vi CONTENTS. PAGE Stately Minuet, The. — ^By Hezekiah Butterworth. With music, . ... ..... 292 Statue-Poses, Photographs of, ... . Sword Drill, ^' Charge of the Light Brigade." — By Anna B. Webb, Illustrated, . . . . Ten Robber Toes. — By Lillie E. Barr^ Thanksgiving Elopement, A. — By N, S. Emerson^ Thanksgivin' Pumpkin Pies. — By Margaret E. Sangster Tragedy of Sedan, A. — Arranged by Ida K, Hinds^ Trumpeter's Betrothed, The.^ — Translated by Lucy H, Hooper^ . . . . Voices of the Wildwood. — By Mrs. Ella Sterling Cum mms. With music, ...... Volunteer Organist, The. — By ^. W. Eoss, . What Ailed the Pudding. — By Josephine Pollard^ Why my Father Left the Army. — By Charles Lever. Arranged by Joh^i A. MacCabe, Wife's Lament, A. — By Will H. Cadmus, 25s 67 231 270 108 162 64 241 29 58 178 Biographical Sketch of Frangois Delsarte. By Steele Mackaye, . . . . . . . . . xi Index of Advertisers, . 306 INDEX OF AUTHORS. PACK Alden, William L., 275 Ayres, Alfred, 4 Barber, Joseph, . . . . . . . . 122 Barr, Lillie E., . . . . . . .67 Bean, Helen Mar, 251 Belasco, David, . . 148 Browning, Mrs. Elizabeth Barrett, . . . 140 Browning, Robert, . . . . . . 157, 198 Bunner, H. C, 120, 194 BUTTERWORTH, HeZEKIAH, 292 Byers, S. H. M., . 187 Cadmus, Will H., ....... 178 Caskin, Lida p., .40 Cheney, John Vance, 260 Crawford, Marion, . . . . . . . 225 Cummins, Mrs. Ella Sterling, . . . .64 Diaz, Mrs. Abby Morton, 285 Dodge, Mrs. Mary Mapes, ^^ Dow, Mrs. S. H., .1 Edwards, H. S., . . . . . . . 262 Emerson, N. S., 231 Fawcett, Edgar, . . . ... . 246 Field, Eugene, 10 Foss, S. W., 241 Gale, Martha T., ^S Grant, Robert, 181 Hageman, Miller, 129 Harte, Bret, 168 Hinds, Ida K., ........ 108 Hooper, Lucy H., . . . . . . 162, 265 vii VIU INDEX OF AUTHORS. Johnson, H. H., Josephs, Lemuel B. C, Kellogg, Anita M., . Kimball, Mather D., Lessing, Gottlieb, . Lever, Charles, Lipscomb, Mrs. M. A., Lover, Samuel, . Ludlow, Helen W., . Lyle, William, . Lyster, Fred, MacCabe, John A., .■ McFadon, O. E., Mair, C, . Montgomery, William H. Nesbit, E., . Norris, Adelaide, O'Donnell, Jessie F., Pollard, Josephine, . Pratt, Silas G., Pyatt, Florence E., Rae- Brown, Campbell, Rice, Sara Sigourney, Robertson, Peter, RoTHWELL, Annie, Sangster, Margaret E., Sherwood, Mrs. John, SouTHwiCK, F. Townsend, Story, W. W., . Stowe, Mrs. H. B., . Thompson, Genevieve Stebbins, Vandegrift, Margaret, Von Boyle, Webb, Anna B., . WiLBOR, Elsie M., 24, 44, 70, loi, Young, Mrs. S, Etta, 191 41 IS 272 18 58, 244 78 153 118 197 12 58, 244 94, 95 137 136 72 91 299 29 229 176 287 18 240 237 270 280 205 24 lOI 217 167 219 255 140, 168, 181, 198 214, 225, 246, 27s, 285, 302 . 49 NOTICE! Every piece in the Delsarte Recitation Book, with two or three exceptions, has been either written, translated, arranged, or adapted specially for the book. Every se- lection is protected by me by copyright. All persons are therefore hereby warned against reprinting any of these recitations, as no infringement of the copyright will be per- mitted. I hereby cordially thank the following publishers for their courtesy in making special arrangements whereby I am permitted to use their copyright matter : Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co. for " Jovita,'* "The Minister's Housekeeper," and " The Government Spy." Messrs. Jordan, Marsh & Co. for " Jack Hall's Boat- Race." The New England Journal of Education for " The Stately Minuet." Messrs. Funk & Wagnalls for " The B. B. Romance." Messrs. Bromfield & Co. for " Jimmy Brown's Dog." The D. Lothrop Co. for" John Spicer on Clothes." EDITOR, ix FRANCOIS DELSARTE. TN 1811, in Solesmes, France, was born a child who was destined to achieve the greatest triumphs in art, to contribute the deepest knowledge to science, and to command the most marvelous homage in so- ciety. This child was christened Frangois Delsarte. When Delsarte was but six years of age his father died a bankrupt. His mother took him and his brother to Paris, hoping to earn there a livelihood. But disap- pointment, toil, poverty, and despair soon achieved their cruel work. The mother died suddenly, leaving her boys friendless waifs, to drift at the mercy of the fearful flood of Parisian life. This was not the last blow that death was to deal to the tender heart of this desolate child. The winter of 182 1 was unusually severe in Paris. One night, in a deserted loft, two little boys entwined in each other's arms lay fast asleep. The sleep of one of them was eternal ; and when morning broke, Frangois Delsarte was hugging to his heart the starved and frozen body of his brother. Returning from the grave that December day, Del- sarte experienced what might be called an inspiration. Passing alone across the plains of Pere la Chaise, cold, weariness, hunger, and grief overcame him, and he fell xi xii FRANCOIS DELS ARTE. fainting in the snow [see page 71]. Reviving from the fit, his senses were suddenly entranced by a vision. Ex- quisite forms and colors floated before his eyes; a won- drous ecstasy filled his mind ; celestial music cried into his ears and flooded his soul with harmonies which he after- ward said haunted him through life. There, prostrate on the earth, alone, helpless, and half dead, deserted by men, — thus did divine love seem to draw near to this rare soul ; heaven seemed to open before him, and its voices revived the artist-being in his shrunken frame. The mystic experience of that strange hour penetrated the inmost recesses of his soul, to fill him with a frantic but a divine passion for beauty and harmony of expression. When the boy awoke from that entrancing vision to the diabolic realities of the world, he beheld bending above him the grotesque figure of a chiffonier, who, in seeking rags, had found a treasure among men, whose value to the world the poor wretch little suspected. This rag-picker, touched by the forlorn condition of the dying child, lifted his limp body from the rubbish, threw him in among the rags in his basket, and carried him to his den. Thus Delsarte, afterward publicly crowned by a monarch's hand, and called " the king of art," began his public career as a Parisian rag-picker! Two years passed, during which the little chiffonier wandered through the streets in search of rags and music. He gathered more songs than rags, however, and was lured away from the most promising pile of rubbish by every band of strolling minstrels. One summer afternoon in 1823 the band of the Na- tional Guard was discoursing airs in the garden of the Tuileries, and a poor, ragged boy sat on the ground near by, making strange signs in the sand. An eccen- tric old man, impressed by the youthful face, and puz- zled by the odd actions of the little beggar, watched FRANgOIS DELS ARTE, xiii him [see page x. ]. When the band ceased playing the old man spoke : "What are you doing there?" The boy drew back abashed and frightened. ''Do not fear, my child," said the stranger, '* I mean you no harm. Tell me the meaning of these signs in the sand. What have you been writing here ?" " Music," said the boy. " Music ? What do you mean by that, child ?" '^ I mean, monsieur, that I have written here the music of the soldiers." *' Oh, you call these musical signs !" said the old man with an incredulous smile. "Yes, monsieur, they are signs of the song the band has just been playing." The old man looked sharply at the sand and said: " I am a musician, yet I cannot read these signs. Can you read them ?" " Oh, easily, indeed !" He began to suspect the sanity of the boy. " Let me hear you read them." The poor child, touched by this unexpected interest, sang, with childlike simplicity and naivete, the melodies he had written in the sand, pointing out, as he did so, the queer, original signs denoting the musical sounds. "Who taught you these extraordinary signs?" asked the old man in amazement. " No one." " How did you learn them ?" " Oh, monsieur, I dared to imagine them myself." The undeveloped genius of this child, not yet twelve years of age, had responded to his burning passion for music, enabling him to devise an entirely new, though rough and imperfect, method of musical notation. Thanks to his genius, his prospects in life were sud- XIV FRANgOIS DELS ARTE. denly changed ; and the boy who had entered the park a forlorn rag-picker, left it to become the adopted son of one of the most benevolent and remarkable musical men of that day, Pere Bambini. In less than two years Delsarte was admitted to the Conservatoire. At eigh- teen he had a leading position upon the operatic boards of Paris. When he was twenty-one he had made quite a fortune, and had married the daughter of the di- rector of the Grand Opera House. When Delsarte had been a year at the Conservatoire, Pere Bambini died. He was left in great poverty, and was obliged to go through the streets in a costume which ranked him among the lower classes. He was determined to get upon the stage. He had studied the leading roles in opera, and persistently applied at the Grand Opera House for an opportunity to be heard. His persistence became a nuisance to the ogre in charge of the stage-door.- He reported it to the director of the opera, who said: " Leave the fellow to me. I will teach him a lesson. The next time he applies show him to my room." The next time happened to be during the performance of an opera. He was shown to the direc- tor, a very stern, business-like man, who hated what he called artistic tramps, and regarded Delsarte as one of them. He saw the pitiable condition in which the man was clothed. He said : " What do you want ?" *^ I want an opportunity to be heard. I seek a posi- tion, and I should be glad to take any position which your estimate of my merits may think proper." ^* Oh, you wish to be heard ? All right. Are you ready to be heard now, at once ?" " Certainly, monsieur, at any time. I shall be only too glad and too grateful to be heard." "Very well, wait here. I will let you know when I am ready." He went below and said to the curtain- FRANCOIS DELS ARTE. xv man: "When the curtain drops on the next act run on two flats in front, put on the piano, and let me know when you are ready." When this was done he sent for Delsarte, and said : ^' Do you see that piano there, in front of those flats? You wish to be heard, you say. Have you the courage to go on there and show me before this public what you can do ?" The director little dreamed of the unconquerable courage in that noble heart, or he never would have dared to propose such a thing to this youth. Delsarte's first impulse was one of indignation. But this was suc- ceeded by a sense of the fact that his future depended upon the grit which he showed at that moment, and turning, he said: '* Yes, monsieur. You ask of me something that has never been asked before ; if I can- not succeed with my public I have nothing to ask of you." The curtain was rung up, and Delsarte in seedy clothes and with his stockings showing through the holes in his shoes, walked on. At first the people were puzzled, then amused, and saluted him with jeers and laughter. He turned and made a bow to them so princely and noble, that they were obliged to recognize the royalty of his soul. He passed to the piano, ran his fingers over it, and began to sing a song that held them spell- bound. When he had finished, he was greeted with thrilling cheers from every part of the house. He was recalled again and again, and when at last he went be- hind the scenes it was to be greeted by the director with a contract for three years at looo francs a month. After a few years of marvelous success, and when his artistic prospects were extraordinary, he lost his voice entirely for one year. He was obliged to abandon his career upon the stage, and forced to earn his living as a xvi FRANCOIS DELS ARTE. private teacher instead of as a public performer. It was this calamity, or what appeared as such at that time, which led Delsarte to his grand and noble career; for it induced him to search after a natural and scientific basis for art, which eventually made him the greatest master of expression. Delsarte became convinced that his loss of voice was owing to the pernicious methods of vocal training then in vogue at the Conservatoire. He had discovered by experience there that art was taught empirically and perniciously. He felt that there existed in nature a certain philosophy, a certain net-work of laws, which alone could decide what was right and what was wrong, and he determined to devote his life to the discovery of those laws. He did so, and acquired a reputation so great that ?ie attracted many pupils. Rachel, Duprez, Pere Hyacinth, and many more of the greatest artists of France, serve as the best illustrations of his masterly method. Soon kings and princes, artists and authors, sculptors and singers, came to him. He was called the greatest of orators, and declared the monarch of art: ** This master possesses a method so perfect^ a style so pure ^ a passion so profound^ that there is none in all art so 7ioble or divined STEELE MACK A YE. Delsarte Recitation Book. THE HUNDRED LOUIS D'OR. Translated by Mrs. Sabrina H. Dow. [Mme. Arnaud, in her charming reminiscences of Delsarte, mentions particularly the reciting of the ''Hundred Louis d'Or," by Darcier, one of the most distinguished pupils of the master, and says that it attracted great attention. The selection is a typical French one, even to the odd little anticlimax bringing in the, to the French, all-important dowry of the bride.— Editor.] NE evening, under the poplars' shade, Along the shore of the river dark, Near the mill where dwelt my miller maid, There strode a tall man, stalwart and stark. His mustache was gray, his mantle blue, A queer, round hat half hid his face; So strange he looked as near he drew — "'Tis the Devil," I said, '^or the Lord, by his grace." Then his voice like trumpet of brass rang out Through the still air, as he said to me: ** Follow me to the forest, nor doubt A hundred louis I'll give to thee.** And his wizard eye, with fateful charm, Drew me, helpless ; I could not recede; On, on to the wood, for good or harm, I went, nor thought of the promised meed. When the astonishment or the surprise is not intense enough to shake the Xframe^the head^ wherein all the surprise is concentrated^ is lifted and ex- I alted. — Delsarte. 2 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. He seemed not to run, though swift as deer Was his course, and I, with fright overcome And fev'rish burning, thought death was near. To restore me, in that brazen tone, Icy cold, he shouted once more: ** To the depths of the wood but follow on And ril give thee a hundred louis d'or." Into the thick of the wood we came; The night to Stygian darkness fell. Upward each green tree shot a green flame; I knew by the din 'twas the gate to hell. Then suddenly changed, his body bare, Stood my sorcerer. ** Ho !" I said To myself, as his eyes glittered red^ "The Devil, no doubt, for I can tell By his horned front, and tail, as w^ell." He showed me then an open book, With empty pages, and bade me look, While he asked, his harsh voice somewhat lower, ** Would you gain a hundred louis d'or? ** Then swear by your soul, swear by your life, Swear by the Devil and by the Lord, Never to take to your arms a wife, Neither from hamlet, nor farm, nor town, Until your fortieth year has flown. Let the world see you, day after day, Your soul ne'er held to a single one. Flitting from folly to folly alway, Like a gay butterfly under the sun." The page turned crimson beneath his claWp While his brassy voice resounded cold: Under the influence of passion^ the voice rises with a brilliancy corre- sponding in proportion to the magnitude of the thing it would express^ and becojnes lowered to express sfjzallness or meanness.— Dklsa^tk. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, " Sign here and a hundred louis d'or I'll give to thee in ringing gold." Instead of signing upon the place The Devil marked with his bloody grip, **'Twere better," I thought, "a cross to trace," Which I did, a prayer upon my lip. At this, his Majesty fled in smoke; And quickly I was transported again To the mill-chamber, and my dear maid, Oh, never so dear to me as then. " See here," she said, " I give all to thee — My heart, my mill, my treasure-store/' Then in copper sous she gave to me. In all, a hundred louis d'or ! SUGGESTIVE ANALYSIS. Genevieve Stebbins Thompson. I should advise no one who has not acquired the dy- namic voice — a voice with moving power back of it — to attempt this selection. The strongest use^ of psychic vision, a vivid imagination, is here necessary; to make an audience see and feel, the reciter himself must first be impressed with the reality of the scene. The con- trast between the mystic voice of the narrator and the brazen resonance of that of the demon must be brought out, but not too abruptly. Horror combined with fascination should be expressed in the voice when the real character of the fiend is revealed; the man is tempted, and the struggle must be shown. The thought of the cross suggests the prayer, and the voice should express appeal, and then peace and calm. The maiden's voice should be that of love and tenderness. In the first stanza, the action is outward, the gestures descriptive; the Devil beckons the man to follow. Oratgrical art is the means of expressing the ejnotions of the soul by the play of the organs. It is the sum total of rules and laws resulting from the reciprocal action of m,ind and body. — Delaumosne. [•^ '. ^ 4 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. In the second stanza, the action is that of following, with raised hands, bent knees, and eyes opened wide, as if charmed; the Devil turns his head over his shoulder to shout his temptation. In the third stanza, the man sees each horror he de- scribes, and shudders and recoils from it; but at the vision of the fiend revealed, he stands paralyzed with fear, arms thrown up over the head, knees bent and trembling, chest sunken. The Devil's action should be the opposite: bold and commanding, but the face concentrated with hate and the eyes pinched. When the sign of the cross is made, the attitude becomes one of exaltation, and the action and expression should be of calm and love. OH, SIR! Translated and Adapted by Alfred Ayres. A YOUNG girl of sixteen, lithe, fair, and fresh, who has just laid aside her convent gown, and bidden good-by to her convent chums, is now at home and to remain. Alone in the drawing-room, the door of which is closed, with an air in which there's something of rev- erie, yet more of vanity, she contemplates the effect of her transformation from school-girl to demoiselle. She runs her tap'ring fingers through her curls, con- fines a refractory end of lace, gives a toss to her shapely head, and smiles. With sweet self she is content. Suddenly the door is opened. She crimsons to the eyes thus to be surprised, surrounded on three sides as she is by Venetian mirrors. "Ah, it's you, mamma!" she cries, and hastens to throw her arms around her mother's neck. These little ^ — ^ The shoulder^ in every man who is agitated or moved ^ rises in exact Propor- tion to the intensity of his emotion. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 5 ways in daughters are ever pleasing to mammas. This mamma is most indulgent, still young, a widow, and a baroness. " Daughter, dear, whence comes this emotion ? You need have no fears I shall reproach you." "But, mamma, I have great fears." " Fears ? You ?— of what ?" " Of everything, mamma, of everything !" "Of everything? That's vague." " Of the world, mamma. For at the convent they told us of the world so much that's bad. They painted it in such colors that I shudder when I recall them. They haunt me often in my dreams. Yesterday I was but a school-girl; to-day I am a demoiselle. Childlike prattle no longer becomes me; now, all must be studied, dignified, imposing. Why, mamma, I am timid, ill at ease even with my cousin Charles, a simple student. Suppose a young man, a stranger, were ta speak to me — what should my answer be ? Should it be always * Yes ?' " " Not for the world, my daughter !" " Well, then, I'll answer, ' No !' " "That, too, is seldom prudent." "But, mamma — " " * No ' and ^yes* from maiden lips have oft been known to compromise." " What shall I answer, then ?" "A word that says nothing. ' Oh, sir!.' for example. Of * Oh, sir!' can come no harm; and said in fitting tone, * Oh, sir ! ' does very well. * Oh, sir ! ' now in this tone, * Oh, sir ! ' now in that, with a graceful salutation — how many in high places are puzzled to answer more !" The theories of Delsarte^ far from hajupering the free expansion of art ^ do but enlarge its horizon^ and prepare a broader field for its harmonies, — Arnaud. 6 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. "Thank you, mamma. I'm already reassured. I shall answer always * Oh, sir ! ' with studious care." And now the baroness withdraws, as to herself she says: "From these two words there's surely naught to fear." A few minutes have elapsed, when again the door is opened. A footman, who, thinking the baroness still in the drawing-room, wnth a wooden mien and in sonorous tones announces: "Viscount Albert de Monsablon." The viscount is charming: in bearing, all he should be — young, tall, graceful, a very man of fashion. On see- ing Bertha alone, her big, blue eyes timidly cast down, for a moment he puts on the air of one embarrassed, though in truth the traitor is delighted with the mis- adventure. "Miss Bertha! in Paris! Accident provides for me a charming surprise. With the convent now you're done forever, let us hope. Now the paternal fireside will be light and bright as ne'er before. Ma}^ I be per- mitted to share its warmth ?" "Oh, sir!" " I stood before you last autumn dumb with amaze- ment. You had grown so stately, so beautiful — " "Oh, sir!" " How stupid I did appear !" "Oh, sir!" " But that should not surprise you. When last I had seen you, you were deeply absorbed in robing in satin a pair of Christmas doll-babies. Now, you will dress ^^//-babies no more." " Oh, sir !" "What a long way off are those days now! Now f 4* iThe arvi should move gently toivard the object it wishes to caress. Under the rapid action of surprise^ therefore^ it could only ijijure or repel that ob- I ject. — Delsarte. I * — 4* DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 7 your dolls lie neglected in odd corners. You have other pastimes, other joys. Do you like to dance?*' "Oh, sir !" "Nothing more natural. You are at that age when balls possess their greatest charm. For a month one dreams of one's attire. At first, of a flounce or two of airy tulle or of a cloud of discreet gauze. Then, of a rose, coquette, fast knotted in the hair; of pearls in graceful coils; of an aigret of sparkling gems; of neck- laces of rubies, sapphires, diamonds — " "Oh, sir!" " When you are older, you will have a husband to provide you with jewels. It is a privilege that custom accords us men. But now you are so young I" "Oh, sir!" "It was just at this season that we played together under the park trees. Do you remember?" "Oh, sir!" " I see you now — such a little thing ! — your luxuriant curls too heavy for their silken netting — running here and there under the big trees, ankle-deep in the daisies and buttercups. And then we played at mimic war. Your big brother organized the combats. He was the general, we the soldiers." "Oh, sir!" " What happy days were those — days of joy, of rap- ture; of projects wild, of vows half foolish ! Even now my heart leaps as I recall them !" " Oh, sir !" " Will they ever have a morrow ? Are they not to you a memory, vague, uncertain, intangible, like a phantasm seen by moonlight in some deserted churchyard?" — 4- There are three forms of expression by which man outzvardly reveals his inward experiences. The first is pantomimic: the second is vocal; the last is verbal. — Steele Mackaye. 8 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, "Oh, sir!" " But how I hope you'll comprehend me, as I stand before you, gazing in your eyes, when in my rapturous delirium I tell you — I am most unhappy !" " Oh, sir !" ** You are kind, you are good. I see it in your eyes. You pity me. Yet my distress surprises you." " Oh, sir !" ** Do I see aright, or is't a dream ? I do see aright; you do comprehend me ! Ah, it's in bliss like this that one might wish to die !" " Oh, sir !" "Ah, heaven, for me, opens wide its gates! All is joyous in my heart; there, all is melody — the melody of the spheres ! Bear with me; I thought myself far stronger. Your accents fill my soul with bliss ecstatic. Speak I must, else I perish. Bertha, will you be mine, forever mine ?" "Oh, sir!" " I know I follow not the form; but could I wait a little week ? — could I wait e'en till to-morrow ? I ask but only you !" "Oh, sir!" " Will you love me as I love you ? No, no, that were too much; but I await my doom. Bertha, will you love me just a little ?" " Oh, sir !" At this juncture, wide open swings the parlor-door, and with an austere mien the baroness appears upon the scene. " Ah, madame, you see in me a man beside himself with joy ! Give me Bertha !" t ^ • — TTT r-t Under the influence of sentiment, the smallest and most insignificant things that we may wish to represent proportion themselves to the degree of acuteness of the sounds^ which become softened in proportion as they rise. — Delsarte. 4- — ^ ^ —^ DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK, 9 " Heh ! What do I hear ?" " I love her, and — " " Sir ! sir ! not before her !" " But she loves me too !" '' What r " Mamma, dear, don't be cruel !'* ** Bertha, have you — " " No, mamma, no ! I've followed your instructions to the letter; and I will follow them always, I promise you. But it's very strange; I hardly dare to think of it. To say that one loves, two words suffice. Indeed, I begin to think, mamma, that even fewer than two would suffice !" HER ANSWER. " X/OUNG man proposed to me last night." ^' You can't mean that ?" " Indeed, it's true; Asked me to be his wife outright." " Good gracious, dear ! What did you do ?" " Poor boy ! He looked so handsome, Nell." " Handsome ! A clerk on weekly pay Asks you — a beauty and a belle ! But tell me what he dared to say.'* " Well — first, he loved me !" '' Oh, that part Of course ! What else ?" ^^ And that he thought I was the sort of girl whose heart Would never let itself be bought. ** He said he was a man — that I Was just a woman, equal so A perfect reproduction of the outer manifestation of some passion^ the iving of the outer sign^ will cause a reflex feeling within.— Gknevieve Stebbins 10 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. In youth, health, brain we stood, and — why, You'd think he never dreamed of no. " That he was poor need be no bar — " " Well ! what an attitude to take !" " For love would prove the guiding star To fame and fortune, for my sake. " And then he begged my heart and hand." ** Such impudence ! who'd ever guess ? — I hope you made him understand His place r " I did— I told him ' Yes ! ' '* A DUTCH LULLABY. Eugene Field. AA/^YNKEN, Blynken, and Nod one night Sailed off in a wooden shoe; Sailed on a river of misty light Into a sea of dew. " Where are you going, and what do you wish ?'* The old moon asked the three. "We have come to fish for the herring fish That live in this beautiful sea; Nets of silver and gold have we," Said Wynken, Blynken, And Nod. 4- GiTen a rising form^ such as the ascending scale, there ivill be intsnsitive progression ivhen this form should express passion {whether impulsey excite- ment^ or vehejnence). There ivill be^ on the other hand^ a ditninution of in- tensity where this same form should express sentiment. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, n The old moon laughed and sang a song As they rocked in the wooden shoe, And the wind that sped them all night long Ruffled the waves of dew. The little stars were the herring fish That lived in the beautiful sea; " Now cast your nets wherever you wish, But never a-feared are we," So cried the stars to the fishermen three, Wynken, Blynken, And Nod. All night long their nets they threw For the fish in the twinkling foam; Then down from the sky came the wooden shoe, Bringing the fishermen home; *Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed As if it could not be; And some folk thought ^twas a dream they dreamed, Of sailing that beautiful sea; But I shall name you the fishermen three — Wynken, Blynken, And Nod. Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes, And Nod is a little head; And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies Is a wee one's trundle-bed. So shut your eyes while mother sings Of wonderful sights that be. Certain attitudes^ by extending or contracting the tnuscles^ by compelling the breath to come and go more rapidly^ by increasing the heart-beats^ cause physical interior sensations which are the correspondences of emotion. — Gen- evieve Stebbins. 12 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. And you shall see the beautiful things As you rock on the misty sea, Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three, Wynken, Blynken, And Nod. AT THE TUNNEL'S MOUTH. Fred Lyster. ^T^rE was workin' at the tunnel's mouth, Joe, Bob, and Jim, and I, A-pilin' up the blocks of stone, A-pilin' of 'em high. For the frost had been tremenjous hard. An' the facing had given away. An' we was workin' with a will To fix up all that day. For next day would be Sunday, An' jist a year agone Jim an' my sister Mary Had turned two into one. An' then, last Wednesday was a week^ A baby Jim was born, An' he a Christian should be made Upon Jim's weddin' morn. So Jim, old Jim, had axed his mates- Joe, Bob, and Bill — that's me — Senthnent and passion proceed in an inverse ivay. Passion strengthens the I voice in proportion as it rises ^ and sentiment^ on the contrary^ softens it in due ratio to its intensity. — Delsarte. 4- DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 13 To stand by while the job was done, An' wind up with a spree — A modest one, a glass or two, A pipe, a yarn, a song, Jist to cheer the young un's entrance In this here world of sin an' wrong, As some folks calls it, — though I thinks We make ourselves the curse. And, as the proverb says, " we might Go farther an* fare worse." Jim, he was Butty o' the gang. An' up or down the line A finer fellow never stepped. No, nor yet half so fine. He'd share his last crust with a friend; And as for child or wife — Why, there ain't no use a-talkin' — He'd jist lay down his life For one sweet smile from Mary, Or a kiss from Baby Jim, Or a good square hug from either, — 'Twas all the same to him. Well, we kep' chattin' o' the fun WeM have to-morrow's day. An' layin' out what songs we'd sing An' what fine games we'd play, When, jist as we had hysted up The last block on the bank, It pitched away, and thundered down The steep an' slipp'ry plank; The full ^ vital resurrection of the regenerated (esthetic man must be pre- ceded by the unifying or blendifig of his inheritances fro7n objective nature^ and of his mental^ subjective acquireiitents. — Franklin H. Sargent. ^ ^ 14 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. An* there upon the line it lay, Right slap acrost the rail. What sound is that as makes us start, An* tremble, an' turn pale ? A stifled shriek — a louder — A rumbling deep an' low. 'Tis the " Flying Dutchman's" signal: She's in the tunnel now ! An' there upon the line — the stone. Full in our awestruck view. An' in another minute now The lightning-train is due. Jim stopped for neither look nor word; With face stern set an' pale, An' steadfast eyes, he made no move, But leaped down on the rail. He seized the massy block of stone, An' shoved it clear aside; But, e'er his feet he could regain. Came, with remorseless glide. The murd'rous engine, an' we heard One heart-appalling scream. We saw a ghastly face turn up Through mists of hissing steam! An' seven hundred souls was saved; But Jim had given his life As ransom for them atl. No thought Of child, nor friend, nor wife; But, seeing what there was to do. He did it — there an end. We move away from the thing which we contemplate^ to prove to it^ doubt- less^ the respect and veneration that it inspires. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 15 No; Fm not cryin', mate, although If you had lost a friend So kind, so honest, an' so true As dear old Jim, no fear, No blame, if you should feel Sometimes a trifle queer About the eyes, an' if your heart Against your ribs should thump. An' in your throat should sometimes rise A nasty, choking lump. But with no pride or pomp of rank, Nor hope of laurel wreath, He leaped from off that grassy bank Into the jaws of death. MOLLY. Anita M. Kellogg. T"X ^HEN folks grow old I wonder why They seem to forget their youth gone by, And whatever we do are so prone to say, "It wasn't so in my young day!" I think it's hard I should be chid For things I'm sure my parents did. For how did my father get him a wife. If he never went courting in his life ? Always retain a gesture as long as the same thought or emotion is retained^ \ or as long as you remain in the same mood.— GKyiEviKVK Stebbins. 1 6 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. And how did my mother know it, pray, If she didn't listen when he said his say? Now, they forget all this, and I Must do my courting on the sly. Whenever they see me, by night or day, Walking and talking — you know the way, — One or the other always caUs me, But listen,— this is what befalls me. Every morning at early dawn. When the dew shines bright on field and lawn, And the birds are singing sweet and clear, I must drive the cows to the pasture near. Now, as it happens, quite frequently, Robin More by the bars will be; But if I stop to say, *^ Good-morrow!" I am reminded to my sorrow. A voice rings out on the morning air: \Calling^ " Molly! Molly! don't idle there! There's work to do, and you have your share!" Down by the wood is a mossy stile — The nicest place to chat awhile; But sure's I sit there with Robin More, A voice is heard from our kitchen door \Calling^ "Molly! Molly! see those cows!" I look around, and there they browse: Dapple, Peachblow, Bose and Rover, Knee-deep in the rich, red clover, A salutation without moving shows but little reverence^ and should only occur in the case of an equal or an inferior. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 17 Whisking their tails impatiently, As that shrill voice floats out to me: \Calling^ "Molly! Molly! Where are you ? Don't you know there's work to do ? Molly! Molly! Drive those cows Down into the milking-shed!" At twilight, when the quiet air Is trembling with the sheen of stars, I sometimes meet with Robin there, And he lets down the bars. Then, should we linger side by side. Or stroll along the dusky lane, Through the tender hush of the even-tide, That voice rings out again: \ Calling^ " Molly ! Molly ! Come right in ! You're twice as long as you should have been; The cows are straying, — close that gate ! Don't mind Robin, — he can wait." Now, Robin loves me, this I know; But he doesn't get a chance to tell me so ! He looks it, and acts it, and once, last night, As we sat on the porch in the soft starlight. He took my hand and held it tight; But just as he opened his mouth to speak, (For the thousandth time within this week,) We heard that voice in the self-same shriek: There should be but one strong climax in a perfect work of art. The artist should work steadily toward that cli^nax. — Moses True Brown. 1 8 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, \Calling^ ** Molly ! The cows are in the clover ! Go right down and drive them over, Be quick about it. Don't you wait, — Just let Robin fasten that gate !" It's always so, and if old folks have their way I never shall know to my dying day What it was Robin was about to say. THE OPAL RING. Gottlieb Lessing. Arranged by Sara S. Rice. [This sketch is in regard to the true religion. Nathan says, *' I am a Jew," and Saladin, *' I am a Mussulman," and between them is the Christian. But one of these religions is true ; which one is it ? Na- than, not wishing to make a direct reply, relates the following story.] T N gray antiquity there lived a man In Eastern lands, who had received a ring Of priceless worth from a beloved hand. Its stone, an opal, flashed a hundred colors, And had the secret power of giving favor. In sight of God and man, to him who wore it With a believing heart. What wonder, then, This Eastern man would never put the ring From off his finger, and should so provide That to his house it should be preserved forever? Such was the case. Unto the best beloved Among his sons he left the ring, enjoining The prof ound obscurity into ivhich light plunges us does not prevent the light T from being; and the chaos of ideas which, most generally, results from our examination of things, proves nothing against the harmonies of their consti- tution. — Delsarte. DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. 19 That he, in turn, bequeath it to the son Who should be dearest ; and the dearest ever, In virtue of the ring, v^ithout regard To birth, be of the house the prince and head. From son to son the ring, descending, came To one, the sire of three ; of whom all three Were equally obedient ; whom all three He, therefore, must with equal love regard. And yet, from time to time, now this, now that, And now the third, as each alone, by The others not dividing his fond heart, Appears to him the worthiest of the ring ; Which, then, with loving weakness he would promise To each in turn. Thus it continued long. But he must die ; and the loving father Was sore perplexed. It grieved him thus to wound The faithful sons who trusted in his word. But what to do? In secrecy he calls An artist to him, and commands of him Two other rings, the pattern of his own ; And bids him neither cost nor pains to spare To make them alike, precisely like to his. The artist's skill succeeds. He brings the rings, And e'en the father cannot tell his own. Relieved and joyful, summons he his sons. Each by himself ; to each one by himself He gives his blessing and his ring — and dies. The father was scarce dead, when each brings forth his ring, And claims the headship. Questioning ensues. In proportion to the depth and majesty of the emotion is the deliberation j and slowness o/ the motion ; and^ vice versa, in proportion to the superficial- ity and explosiveness of the emotion, will be the velocity of its expression in I motion. — Genevieve Stebbins. . : ._ ^ 20 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. Strife and appeals to law, but all in vain ; The genuine ring was not to be distinguished. The sons appealed to law, and each took oath Before the judge that from his father's hand He had the ring, — as was indeed the case. His father could not have been false to him, Each one maintained ; and rather than allow Upon the name of so dear a father Such stain to rest, he must against his brothers (Though gladly he would nothing but the best Believe of them) bring charge of treachery ; Means he would find the traitors to expose. And be revenged on them. Thus spoke the judge : "Produce your*father At once before me, else from my tribunal Do I dismiss you. Think you I am here To guess riddles ? Either would you wait Until the genuine ring shall speak ? But hold! A magic power in the true ring resides. As 1 am told, to make its wearer loved. Pleasing to God, to man. Let that decide. Which one among you, then, do two love best? Speak ! Are you silent ? Work the rings but backward, Not outward ? Loves each one himself the best ? Then cheated cheats are all of you ! The rings All are false. The genuine ring was lost, And to conceal, supply, the loss, the father Made three in place of one. " Go, therefore," said the judge, " unless my counsel You'd have in place of sentence. It were this : Accept the case exactly as it stands. Caressing^ tender^ and gentle emotions find their normal expression in high notes. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 21 Each had his ring directly from his father ; Let each believe his own is genuine. 'Tis possible your father would no longer His house to one ring's tyranny subject ; And certain that all three of you he loved, Loved equally, since two he would not humble That one might be exalted. Let each one To his unbought, impartial love aspire ; Each with the others vie to bring to light The virtue of the stone within the ring ; Let gentleness, a hearty love of peace. Beneficence, and perfect trust in God, Come to its help. Then, if the jewel's power Among your children's children be revealed, I bid you in a thousand thousand years Again before this bar. A wiser man than I Shall occupy this seat and speak. Go!" Thus the modest judge dismissed them. THE FIRST BANJO. C^ O way, fiddle! folks is tired o' hearin' you a-squeak- in', Keep silence fur yo' betters — don't you heah de banjo speakin' ? About de 'possum's tail she's gwine to lecter — ladies, listen ! About de ha'r whut isn't dar, an' why de ha'r is missin'. yust in proportion to our insight and apprehension of all truth do we attain to a comprehension of a particular truth. — Mrs. Frank Stuart Parker. 22 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, " Dar*s gwine to be a oberflow," said Noah, lookin' solemn — For Noah tuk de " Herald," an' he read de ribber col- umn — An' so he sot his hands to work a-cl'arin' timber-patches, An' 'lowed he's gwine to build a boat to beat de steameh '' Natchez." or Noah kep' a-nailin', an' a-chippin', an' a-sawin' ; An' all de wicked neighbors kep' a-laughin' an' a- pshawin' ; But Noah didn't min' 'em — knowin' whut wuz gwine to happen ; An' forty days an' forty nights de rain it kep' a-drap- pin'. Now, Noah had done cotched a lot ob eb'ry sort o' beas'es, Ob all de shows a-trabbelin', it beat 'em all to pieces ! He had a Morgan colt, an' seb'ral head o' Jarsey cattle, An' druv 'em 'board de Ark as soon's he heered de thunder rattle. De Ark she kep' a-sailin', an' a-sailin', an' a-sailin' ; De lion got his dander up, aa' like to bruk de palin' ; De sarpints hissed, de painters yelled — tell, whut wid all de fussin'. You c'u'dn't hardly heah de mate a-bossin' 'roun' an' cussin'. Now, Ham, de only nigger whut wuz runnin' on de packet, Got lonesome in de barber-shop, an' couldn't stan' de racket ; ^ The voice decreases in intensity in proportion as it rises higher; and^ on the other hand^ it increasesin intensity inproJ>ortiori as it sinks loit}er. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 23 An' so, for to amuse he-se'f, he steamed some wood an* bent it, An' soon he had a banjo made — de fust dat wuz in- vented. He wet de ledder, stretched it on ; made bridge, an* screws, an' apron ; An' fitted in a proper neck — 'twuz berry long an' ta- p'rin' ; He tuk some tin, an' twisted him a thimble fur to ring it ; An' den de mighty question riz, how wuz he gwine to string it ? De 'possum had as fine a tail as dis dat I's a-singin' ; De ha'rs so long, an' thick, an' strong, — des fit for banjo- stringin' ; Dat nigger shaved 'em off as short as wash-day-dinner graces ; An' sorted ob 'em by de size, from little E's to basses. He strung her, tuned her, struck a jig — 'twuz *' Nebber min' de Wedder" — She soun' like forty-lebben bands a-playin' all togedder ; Some went to pattin', some to dancin' ; Noah called de figgers— An' Ham he sot an' knocked de tune, de happiest ob niggers ! Now, sence dat time — it's mighty strange — dere's not de slightes' showin' Ob any ha'r at all upon de 'possum's tail a-growin'. The walk is temperamental^ as much an indicator of the habits^ character^ and emotions as is the voice. — Genevieve Stebbins. 24 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. THE GOVERNMENT SPY. W. W. Story. Arranged by Elsie M. Wilbor. T^AKE a cigar— draw up your chair, ^ There's at least a good half-hour to spare. And now, as that friend of yours has gone. There's a word I must whisper to you, alone. That fellow's only a Government Spy ! Of course you're surprised — there's nothing on earth So base in your eyes as a Government Spy ; But listen. I'll spin a yarn for you. And every thread of it's simply true. 'Tis years ago I knew Giannone, A capital fellow with great black eyes. And a pleasant smile of frank surprise, And as gentle a pace as a lady's pony. Giannone had but an empty head — ■ But then the worst of him is said : A better heart, or a readier hand. You never would see in our English land. Well, it happened that Hycombe Wycombe Brown, Of the Sussex Wycombes, a man about town, Was owing Giannone a kind of debt For buying some horses, or some such work. He sent him a card of defiance one day To meet him at point of the knife — and fork, And settle the matter without delay. Giannone accepted, of course, and then, He invited a few of us resident men ; Nature^ by a thousand irrefutable exavi;ples^ prescribes a decrease of inten- sity {in music decrescendo) proportionate to the ascensional force of the sounds. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 25 And among them, slim and sleek and sly, Was your pious friend with his balking eye. The dinner was good and all were merry. And plenty there was of champagne and sherry ; And the toasts were brisk and the wine was good, And we all took quite as much as we should. Then we went to cards ; but, I'm sorry to say, Brandy was ordered to whet the play ; And Giannone drank till his tongue lost its rein, And the fire had all gone into his brain. And names he called, and his voice was high As he talked of Italian liberty ! And cursed the priests as the root of all evil, And sent the cardinals all to the devil. ** Better dig with the bayonet's point our graves, And die to be freemen, than live to be slaves !" But all the while that Giannone let fly These arrows of his, with a dead-cold eye Your friend sat playing, and now and then Gleamed up with a glance as sharp as a pen That seemed to write down every word. And then looked away as he had not heard ; And whenever he opened his lips, he said Something about the game, — " You've played A heart to my club ; we're one to six ; Yours are the honors and ours the tricks." I watched him well, and at last said I To myself, " The rascal must be a spy." So " Zitto ! Zitto ! don't be so rash. The soul in its highest snoods translates itself by poising its agents. Poise the soul^ and the whole muscular system is in action to poise the body, — -Moses True Brown. 26 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOR, Giannone," I cried ; *^ who knows what ear May be listening at the door to hear ?" And then with a laugh, and looking straight At this frie7id of yours, with his face sedate, I added, "Who knows but there may be A spy even here in this company ?" If I doubted before the trade of your friend, My doubts in a moment had their end ; For a glance came straight up into my eyes From under his lids, half fear, half surprise. Then turning back with a look demure. And a deprecating, pious air, As much as to say, " We must not care. Knowing the means are justified By the noble end," — he slowly said, Speaking, of course, about the game, *^ The trick is mine — 'twas the knave I played." No sooner the dread word " spy" I spoke. Than Giannone's discourse like a pipe-stem broke ; " Ah !" he cried, " there's a dirty trick In the very word that makes me sick ; You English don't know as well as I The slobber and slime of a Government Spy. "Ser Serpente, permit me now To introduce him — a friend of mine — Smooth, pale, bloodless lips and brow — A long black coat, whose rubbed seams shine — Spots on his waistcoat of grease and wine — The thumb is the thermometer of life in its extending progression^ as it is of death in its contracting progression. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 27 A tri-cornered hat all rusty with use — Long, black, coarse stockings and buckled shoes ; Ah ! so polite with his bows and smiles, And his sickening compliments and wiles, Ke dares not look you straight in the eyes, But, sidling and simpering, askance alway, He oils you over with wheedling lies. As the boa slimes ere he swallows his prey. Many a fellow owes him his death Just for a strong word, spoken may be When the blood was hot and the tongue too free. But one morning they found him taking his rest In the street, with a dagger stuck in his breast. And served him right, say you and I, It was only too easy a death for a spy." At this yonr friend threw down his card, Saying, " You've won to-night, 'tis true. But to-morrow I'll have my revenge on you." And though these words to his friend he spoke, He looked at Giannone so sharp and hard, With such a sinister, evil look, That a dark suspicion in me awoke. Two days after I went to see Whether Giannone would walk with me. Two sharp bell-pulls at his door ; No answer — gone out ; then one pull more. Then slipped a slide back cautiously From a little grated hole—'' Chi e ?" "And where is the Signor Padrone?" I cried. In all the normal attitudes of the legs^ the weight is borne equally on both. -Genevieve Stebbins. 28 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. " Ah !" with a sort of convulsive groan, The poor old servant, sighing, replied, ^^ Doesn't your Signoria know — The sbirri came here yesterday. And carried the caro padrone away ; And they've rifled his desk of letters and all. And taken the pistols and swords from the wall, And locked up the room with a great red seal Put over the door ; and they scared me so With threats, if I dared in the chamber to go, That I'm all of a tremble from head to heel ; And oh, I fear, Signore dear. There's some dreadful political business here." The servant's story was all too true ; From that night I never saw him again. Worse, neither I nor his family knew. And Giannone himself is as ignorant too- — What was his crime — what done — what said, That drew this punishment down on his head. This one fact alone we know. That since the speech of that famous night Giannone has vanished out of sight. And has gone to pass a year or more. In a building where the Government pay His lodging and board in the kindest way. I cannot help wishing the end would come Of this public hospitality. And that poor Giannone was free to go home. But when will that be ? you ask me — Ah ! That is the question ; chi lo sa ? Next month — next year — next century ! The spirit of God is inherent in all things; and this spirit should^ at a given mojnent^ flash its splendors in the eyes ofl an intellect alike submissive^ attentive^ Patient^ and suppliant. — Delsarte. -A^ DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 29 WHAT AILED THE PUDDING. Josephine Pollard. " T yl rHAT shall we have for dinner, to-day ?" Said Mrs. Dobbs, in her pleasant way; *' For Sally has much to do, and would wish That we'd get along with an easy dish — Something that wouldn't take long to prepare, Or really require much extra care." Said Mrs. Dobbs: "There isn't a doubt But what we'd all fancy a stirabout !" "A hasty pudding ! Hurrah ! that's nice !" Exclaimed the girls and boys in a trice. Then Sally put on the biggest pot, And soon the water was boiling hot. And Mrs. Dobbs mixed together some flour And water, and in less than half an hour The pudding began to bubble up thick And dance about with the pudding-stick. Said Mr. Dobbs, as he made a halt : ** Our Sally is apt to forget the salt. So I'll put in a pinch ere I leave the house." And he went on tip-toe, as still as a mouse, And, dropping a handful in very quick, Stirred it well about with the pudding-stick. And said to himself : " Now, isn't this clever !" At which the pudding laughed louder than ever. Then Mrs. Dobbs came after a while. And looked in the pot with a cheery smile. Man can only judge 0/ what is by what he can experience .^ and by the use he I is enabled to make of that experience., through the action of the faculties. — Mrs. Frank Stuart Parker. 3Q DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. And thought how much she'd enjoy the treat, And how much the children would want to eat; Then said: " Our Sally has one great fault — She is very apt to forget the salt I" And into the hasty pudding was sent A handful of this ingredient. John, George, and Jennie, and Bess, in turn, Gave the stick a twist, lest the pudding burn ; For oh! how empty and wretched they'd feel If anything ruined their noonday meal ! And each in turn began to reflect. And make amends for Sally's neglect. For the girl was good, but she had one fault — She was very apt to forget the salt ! But Sally herself, it is strange to say, Was not remiss in her usual way ; But before she went to her up-stairs work She threw in a handful of salt with a jerk. And stirred the pudding, and stirred the fire, Which made the bubbles leap higher and higher. And as soon as the clock struck twelve she took The great big pot off the great big hook. It wasn't scorched ! Ah ! that was nice ! And one little dish w^ould not suffice Mr. or Mrs. Dobbs, I guess, John, or George, or Jennie, or Bess ; And as for Sally, I couldn't say How much of the pudding she'd stow away. For she was tired and hungry, no doubt. And very fond of this stirabout. Vulgar and uncultured people^ as well as children^ seem to act in regard to an ascensional vocal progression in an inverse sense to well-educated^ or^ at any rate, ajff^ectionate persons, such as jnotkers and fond nurses. — Delsarte. -I- DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 31 A happier group you'd ne'er be able To find than sat at the Dobbses' table, With plates and spoons and a hungry wish To eat their fill of the central dish. But as Mr. Dobbs began to taste The pudding, he dropped his spoon in haste; And of all the children did likewise, — As big as saucers their staring eyes. Said Mrs. Dobbs, in a voice not sweet : " Why, it isn't fit for the pigs to eat !" And I doubt if an artist would e'er be able To depict their looks as they left the table. Said Sally: " I thought it would be so nice! But I must have salted that pudding twice !'* And none of the family mentioned that they Had a hand in boiling the dinner that day. LOST. T^HE chill November day was done, The dry old leaves were flying; When, mingled with the roaring wind, I heard a small voice crying. And shivering at the corner stood A child of four or over; No cloak nor hat her small, soft arms And wind-blown curls to cover. With one wee hand she pushed them back, She slipped in mine the other; Pantotnunic expression^ like every other expression of man^ is a manifesta- tion of the activity of the beings soul^ ego^ or animating principle^ by the activity of the body.—Y-RA.-HK. Stuart Parker. 32 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, Half scared, half trustingly, she said, " Oh, please, I want my mother !" " Tell me your street and number, pet; Don't cry, I'll take you to it." Sobbing, she answered: "I forget; The organ made me do it. ^* He came and played at Miller's steps. The monkey took the money; And so I followed down the street, That monkey was so funny. I've walked about a hundred hours. From one street to another; The monkey's gone, I've lost my flowers — Oh, please, I want my m.other !" The sky grew stormy; people passed. All muffled, homeward faring; "You'll have to spend the night with me," I said, at last, despairing. I tied her kerchief round her neck — *' What ribbon's this, my blossom?" " Why, don't you know ?" she smiling asked, And drew it from her bosom. A card with number, street, and name: My eyes, astonished, met it; " For," said the little one, "you see I might sometimes forget it. And so I wear a little thing That tells you all about it; For mother says she's very sure I would get lost without it." When the head moves in an inverse direction from the object that it exam- ines^ it is frofn a seljish standpoint ; and when the examiner bends toward the object^ it is in cofitempt of self that the object is viewed. — Delsakte. * i DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 33 THE MINUET. Mary Mapes Dodge. r^ RANDMA told me all about it, ^^ Told me so I couldn't doubt it, How she danced — my grandma danced — long ago ; How she held her pretty head — How her dainty skirt she spread — How she turned her little toes — Smiling little human rose — long ago. Grandma's hair was bright and sunny ; Dimpled cheeks, too — ah, how funny ! Really quite a pretty girl — long ago ! Bless her ! why she wears a cap. Grandma does, and takes a nap Every single day ; and yet Grandma danced the minuet — long ago. Now she sits there, rocking, rocking. Always knitting grandpa's stocking (Every girl was taught to knit — long ago) ; Yet her figure is so neat. And her way so staid and sweet, I can almost see her now Bending to her partner's bow — long ago. Grandma says our modern jumping. Hopping, rushing, whirling, bumping. Would have shocked the gentle folk — long ago. No ; they moved with stately grace, Everything in proper place ; If we desire that a thing be always revteinbered^ we Jiiust not say it in words; we must let it be divined^ revealed by gesture. Wherever there is an ellipse in a discourse,^ gesture must intervene to explain this ellipse. — Delau- MOSNE. 34 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. J. N. HUMMEL. dolce. :J:-"J J i i ^ ._5q ^_ r^ cres. sf 'X A P 'J i ^ .^ i^^ -f^- ii -£; =fe£ P^t £=r=p -•-a^ ^ ••4tt— • !#* ^^3^^ i T T" 5=?c =1=^ ^^ ^H crts* sf Pif^U' i I DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 35 Gliding slowly forward, then Slowly courtesying back again — long ago. Modern ways are quite alarming, Grandma says ; but boys were charming — Girls and boys I mean, of course — long ago. Bravely modest, grandly shy, What if all of us should try Just to feel like those who met In the graceful minuet — long ago? With the minuet in fashion, Who could fly into a passion ? All would wear the calm they wore — long ago. In time to come, if I, perchance, Should tell my grandchild of our dance, I should really like to say, ** We did it, dear, in some such way — long ago/' [The reader is to dance at the end of each stanza. The music is for the dancing only, and is not to be played during the reciting. If re- cited in the costume of a last century belle, with powdered hair, the effect will be heightened.] DIRECTIONS FOR DANCING THE MINUET. James Brooks. Arranged for four couples in a column, or as many columns of four couples each as there is room for, formed thus: FRONT. X O X o X O X o X O X o X O X o The artist should aim to manifest human nature in its three modalities^ in its three phases 'which the master named li/e^ soul^ and 7nind. In other ivords^ the beings physical^ vioral^ and mental. — Arxaud. 36 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. All courtesies are begun by ladies sliding the right foot to the side. All bows, after the first, are begun by gentlemen sliding the left foot to the side. All other movements are begun by both gentlemen and ladies with the right foot, unless otherwise directed. Gentlemen will always place right hand on their hearts when bowing to partners. During the introduction, gentlemen will give right hands to ladies' left, and hold the hands well up in front, ready to begin. Walk six steps forward (closing the left foot up to the right, in first position for sixth count). Salute to the front. Walk six steps back (turning to face partner, give left hand to ladies' left, looking at partners over arms, gen- tlemen close left up to right for the sixth count, and at the same time face partners; ladies step with left foot for the sixth count, and at the same time close right up to left to face partner). Salute partners. Walk six steps forward. Walk six steps back (face partners and step back with left foot on the sixth count, swaying the body backward on the left foot so as to form an attitude, right toe pointed in fourth position in front). Turn partners with the right hand. Salute partners. Chasse to the left (face the front and cross hands with partners, right hand uppermost; step with left foot to the side (count one); right in front of the left (count two); left to side (count three); right in front of left (count four); left to the side (count five); face partners, gentlemen transferring the weight of the body to the left foot, ladies carrying the right foot forward, right toe pointed in fourth position (count six). Ttcrn partners half around (with right hand). The shoulder generally rises less when the head retroacts than ivhen it ad- vances toward the object of its contemplation. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 37 Chasse to the right (face partners at the fifth count and close left foot up to the right in first position for six). Salute partners. Turn partners half around (with right hand). Reverse the half turn (without disengaging the right hands, the lady passing under the upraised right arms, turning to the right and stepping back for five and six, steps to face partner). Ticrji part7iers half around (with left hand). Salute partners. Walk past partners six steps (facing partners, walk past partners, gentlemen passing in front of the ladies four steps; step with right foot to second position, five; close left foot up to right, six). Salute in- the directio7i you are facing. All turn to the right and walk hack to place (ladies pass- ing in front, finish facing partners). Salute partners. Walk six steps forward (at the fifth count face partners and step back with left foot to fourth position, right toe pointed in front for six). Turn partners (with right hand). Walk back to places six steps (gentleman giving left hand to lady's right). Salute partners. Turn part7iers half around (with right hand). Salute partners. Turn partners to places (with left hand). Salute partners. Moulinet (cross right hands — the first and second, and the third and fourth couples cross right hands around to the left (counting i, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11), dis- engage hands and step back with left foot, leaving right foot pointed in the centre — count 12). Moulinet hack (cross left hands and salute to the front). (A perfected voice can reveal almost iverythi77g ivhich htnnan nature Is ca- ] pable of thinkino or feeling or beings and not only reveal it^ but also wield it as an instrument of inftience to awaken in the atiditor correspondent expe- riences. — KKY. W. R. Alger. | 38 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. SNOW-FLAKES AND SNOW- DRIFTS. A STUDY IN ALLITERATION, Martha Tyler Gale. Asking approval of alliteration Before we begin, we beg benediction, Caution, and candor from critics who censure This daring description of delicate snow-drifts. A NGELIC aeronaut, airy and active, Aerial avalanche, alpine and awful, Beating men, buffeting, blinding, and burying, Bountifully broadcast, brilliant in beauty, Bird-like and buoyant, yet bringing a blessing, Coming so constantly, crowding and chasing. Covering all closely with cerements. Carving such curious conceits on the casements. Crystals, once clear-cut, now crushed by collision, Coronets, crested and cast from cloud-ceilings. Can still be so cold, calm, chilling, and cheerless, Driving its drifts down destructively, drearily, Dismally direful, dreadfully deadly. Daintily draping and decking dull deserts, Elfish, erratic, empyreal! Elegant, exquisite, endlessly eddying. Frosting the farms, and the firs, and the fences. Fringing the forests with fantastic fern-fronds. Flying all feathery, fleecy, and foamy. Flinging its flakes forward, faultless as flowers, 4. Art., notivithstanding the antiquity of its origin^ is still., from a didactical \ Point of view., unknown even to those who prof ess it. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 39 Falling from far, from full-fed frosty fountains, Glittering, glistening, gossamer, gauzy, Gems that are God-given, gracefully. Hastening from heaven's brow, hurrying headlong, Hiding the heads of the hills all so hoary, Heaving its heaps up higher and huger, Icily idling in isolate islands. Jauntily joining in jollity joyous. Kissing the kings, the kittens, and king-birds; Lasses and lads love to laugh at its lightness, Lily-like, lovely, yet lawless. Loitering lazily, lingering lovingly In myriad mazes or in mountainous masses. Noiselessly nestling 'neath the nooks of nature, Omniform opulent, — only observe it ! Perfectly pure, so pale, pearly, and peerless. Poising on pinnacles, perched picturesquely. Playing with plumage and pinions on pine peaks, Quelling by quantity, quietly. Roving round restlessly, rioting ruthlessly, Sweeping on swiftly and surging on sea-like, Scattered so spray-like, sailing so swan-like. Stealing in stillness, slow, solemn, and shroud-like. Softly and silently shed by sweet seraphim. Showered so strangely, shining and star-like. Towering and tipping the turrets of temples, Tossing in tempests terrific. Toying tenderly with tracery tasteful, Transiently trimming the twigs and the tree-tops. Here is the grand law of organic gyyjznastics: The triple movement^ the triple lang2iage of the organs is eccentric ^ concentric^ or normal^ according as it is the expression of life ^ soul, or spirit. — Delaumosne, 40 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, Unwearied, unsullied, unspotted, unearthly, Volatile visitant, — volley of vapor; Voyaging vaguely, all visible veiling, Waving white wings, and wrathfully warning, Whirled by wild winds the world wrapping so whitely. Youthfully yielding, sent yearly for yule-time. From the zone of the zenith blown zigzag by zephyrs. PLAYING SCHOOL. LmA P. Caskin. T^WO little tots on the carpet at play, Tired of their usual games, one day, Said one to the other: ^^ Let's play stool; I'll be teacher, and don't you fool, But sit up nice, like a sure 'nough stolar; You'll miss your lesson, I bet you a dollar." Casting about for a word to spell. Blue eyes on puss and her kitten fell; As an object lesson they pose with grace, The mamma w^ashing her baby's face. "Spell Tat," the teacher grandly gives out; *' Quick, now; mind what you're about." The " scholar," failing with ignominy, Is sorely shaken and dubbed a ninny. The word repeated again, she fails. When the scene on the rug again avails. And the teacher relents, conscience-smitten: "If you tan't spell Tat, then spell Titten!" The pozvers of art are the wings o/ the soul. — Delsarte, DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 41 THE JOKER'S MISTAKE. AN ENCORE PANTOMIME, Lemuel B. C. Josephs. [The pantomimist is supposed to have played a joke and is at first so overcome with the ridiculous side of it that he is unable to see just how the victim has taken it. Gradually it dawns upon him that the joke has been resented, and from surprise his feeling changes to entreaty for forgiveness, instead of which is visited upon him the wrath of the vic- tim. It is recommended that this description be printed on the pro- gram when the pantomime is given. — Editor.] T7 NTER at right of stage as if followed by Mr. Blank, -'--' at whom you are laughing heartily. All the panto- mime of laughter is to be given w^ithout the sound: mouth open wide; eyes nearly closed; head thrown slightly back; shoulders raised; body shaking with un- controlled laughter (same action as in continued cough- ing, except that the mouth is open wide, lips drawn back, showing teeth); arms hanging relaxed. Stopping in walk near the middle front of stage, turn slowly toward Blank, taking attitude of base with feet wide apart, weight on both, right arm rising to point at him, while the head, in opposition, is moving slightly forw^ard, so that the forehead is farther front than the chin, eyes wide open directed to Blank, eyebrows raised. Hold attitude. Now change expression of face to pain mingled with laughter; mouth still laughing ; rest of face contracted as in pain. Left hand then presses side of torso, elbow out. A moment later bring right hand also to side, head falling back over left shoulder. Hold attitude. Right hand now seeks side of forehead; head falling Concentrated passion tends to explosion; explosion to prostration. Thus the only emotion which does not tend to its own destruction is that which is per- fectly poised. — Genevieve Stebbins. ^ : . 42 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. back over right shoulder ; left hand reaching out for support on back of chair, making several efforts to reach it and at last grasping it. Then body totters, falling toward chair; head dropping farther back, right haria catching it at back, face completely abandoned to laughter. Hold attitude. Still holding chair, knees and waist relaxed, stagger weakly around to front of chair and drop helplessly into it, head falling back, arms dropping lifelessly any- where they will. Still keep amused expression of face, but breathe as if out of breath, interrupting the even- ness of the respiration now and then by shaking with spasmodic laughter. \^Back of chair toward right of stage.'] Hold attitude. Now roll the head on back of chair, and look up toward Blank with mouth slightly open, corners drawn down. Just for an instant hold this, and then, dropping head forward on chest, shake torso and head violently with laughter, shoulders up, arms rising as if to drop over back of chair, and then thrown forcibly down to hang loosely at sides. While the arms are going down, the head rises and falls back helplessly, eyes almost closed in strongest laughter. Hold attitude. Now, with serious look on face, suddenly lift head from support and hold it still to listen. Turn to look with questioning at Blank. The eyes move first, then the head follows, and, hands holding on sides of chair, the torso turns as far around as it can. Hold this atti- tude while eyes alone move to look at left into space. Hold attitude. Now lean back,, still turned toward Blank, and reach Tke shoulder is the thermometer of passion as well as of sensibility: it is the measure of zehemence: it determines the degree of heat and intensity. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 43 out right hand as to receive pardon from him, eyes look- ing earnestly into his face, lips pouted. Then head drops forward slightly as in shame, while the right hand changes its attitude to that of protest, palm out and fingers up. Left hand now placed upon hearty elbow out, followed by head moving over right shoulder, rotating to bring face again to Blank with eyes expressing sur- prise, lips loosely parted. Hold attitude. Now sit up defiantly, head thrown back away from Blank, both hands coming emphatically to upper (men- tal) zone of torso, elbows raised. Left foot moves far- ther back ; head drops forward tow^ard left, right hand rising as if to ward off something that threatens. Drop from sitting position to kneeling upon left knee, both arms rising to seek forbearance, head thrown up in en- treaty. Hands then clasp suddenly and are brought near to torso, elbows still raised in front. Head now drops on chest, followed by clasped hands dropping upon right knee. Hold attitude. Torso turning to left is prevented from falling by the left arm reaching the floor and making a support ; face meanwhile turns toward Blank, head hanging back, suf- fering and entreaty expressed, right hand repelling his words (arm straight). Hold attitude. Now swing body from last attitude so as to fall to floor, forearms crossed to form cushion for head. To rise easily from this position to quit the stage, raise head and release right arm ; draw left hand nearer to brace body up until your weight is on left knee ; move right foot, knee having risen, forward ; free left hand, and, changing weight to right foot, rise as from kneeling. Every man has his /avorite gesture; and ivere it possible to surprise hitn^ I and to delineate him while using this gesture^ it would furnish the key to his zvhole character, — Lavater. 44 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, SUGGESTION. In the practice of this pantomime, subtle changes of expression and enlargement of the scene by the intro- duction of other attitudes will suggest themselves to the student. The writer has endeavored merely to out- line the work, knowing that if each attitude were de- scribed in all its details these dangers might arise: either the explanation might be confusing, or it would make the student merely mechanical, or it would not be read at all. The most important thing to be remembered is that the situation must be realized by the student ; that is, he must feel that certain things called up to his im- agination are real^ and let his well-trained body be free to obey his inner states. Each expression of face, body, and limb continues until contradicted. THE MASQUE OF THE NEW YEAR. Arranged by Elsie M. Wilbor. /^UT from tower and from steeple rang the sudden ^^^ New Year bells. Like the chorusing of genii in aerial citadels; And, as they chimed and echoed overthwart the gulfs of gloom, Lo, a brilliance burst upon me, and a masque went through the room. First, the young New Year came forward like a little dancing child. And his hair was as a glory, and his eyes were bright and wild, ^ ; ^ ^ ; ^ I It is clearly easier to translate a language than to iv^Hte it; and just as ive must learn to translate before ive can learn to compose^ so ive ntust become thorotighly familiar ivith serneiotics before trying to ivork at cesthetics. — Del- ! SARTE. 4-- , DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 45 And he shook an odorous torch, and he laughed but did not speak, And his smile went softly rippling through the roses of his cheek. 'Round he looked across his shoulder — and the Spirit of the Spring Entered slowly, moved before me, paused and lingered on the wing; And she smiled and wept together, with a dalliance quaint and sweet. And her tear-drops changed to flowers underneath her gliding feet. Then a landscape opened outward; broad, brown wood- lands stretched away In the luminous blue distance of a windy, clear March day; Birds flashed about the copses, striking sharp notes through the air; Danced the lambs within the meadows; crept the snake from out his lair. Soft as shadows sprang the violets, thousands seeming but as one; Flamed the crocuses beside them, like gold droppings of the sun; And the Goddess of the Spring faded where the leaves were piled; And the New Year had grown older, and no longer was a child. \Vhe7i a pupil is able at vjill instantly to suJujno?i the distinct and vivid picture on his face of -whatever state of feeling calls for expression^ he is so far forth ready for entrance 07i his professional career. — Rev. W. R. Alger. ^ '- ^ 4 46 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. II. Summer, shaking languid roses from his dew-bedabbled hair, Summer, in a robe of green, and with his arms and shoulders bare, Next came forward, flowers bowed beneath a crowd of armored bees; Long grass swaying in the playing of the almost wearied breeze. Rapid, rosy-tinted lightnings, where the rocky clouds are riven. Like the lifting of a veil before the inner courts of heaven; Silver stars in azure evenings, slowdy climbing up the steep; Cornfields ripening to the harvest, and the wide seas smooth with sleep. Circled with those living splendors. Summer passed from out my sight Like a dream that filled with beauty all the caverns of the night! And the vision and the presence into empty nothing ran — And the New Year was still older, and seemed now a youthful man. III. Autumn! Forth from glowing orchards stepped he gayly in a gown Of warm russet, freaked with gold, and with a vision sunny brown; ^ ^ The characteristic of beauty is to be amiable: consequently^ a thing is ugly only in view of the amiable things which we seek in beauty. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 47 On his head a rural chaplet, wreathed with heavily drooping grapes, And broad shadow-casting vine leaves like the Bac- chanalian shapes. Fruits and berries rolled before him from the year's ex- hausted horn; Jets of wine went spinning upward, and he held a sheaf of corn; And he laughed for very joy, and he danced from too much pleasure, And he sang old songs of harvest, and he quaffed a mighty measure. But I saw the woods consuming in a many-colored death — Streaks of yellow flame down-deepening through the green that lingereth. Sanguine flashes, like a sunset, and austerely shadowing brown; And I heard within the silence the nuts sharply rattling down. And I saw the long, dark hedges all alight with scarlet fire. Where the berries, pulpy-ripe, had spread their bird- feasts on the brier. All too soon waned Autumn, vanished over misty heath and meres — And the New Year stood beside me like a man of fifty years. Continued indulgence in any one form of feeling will make that feeling the predominant trait. — Genevieve Stebbins. 48 I) ELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, IV. In a foggy cloud obscurely entered Winter, ashy pale, And his step was hard and heavy, and he wore an icy mail ; Blasting all the path before him, leapt a black wind from the North, And from stinging drifts of sleet he forged the arrows of his wrath. • Yet some beauty still was found; for when the fogs had passed away. The wide lands came glittering forward in a fresh and strange array; Naked trees had got snow foliage, soft, and feathery, and bright. And the earth looked dressed for heaven in its spiritual white. But the face of Winter softened, and his lips broke into smiles. And his heart was filled with radiance as from far-en- chanted isles; For across the long horizon came a light upon the way — The light of Christmas fires, and the dawning of new day. And Winter moved not onward like the rest, but made a stand. And took the spirit of Christmas, as a brother, by the hand; And together toward the heavens a great cry of joy they sent — And the New Year was the Old Year, and his head was gray and bent. 4- ^ Esthetics detennines the inherent forms of sentivient in view of the effects whose truth of relation it estitnates. — Delsakte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 49 Then another New Year entered, like another dancing child, With his tresses as a glory, and his glances bright and wild; And he flashed his odorous torch, and he laughed out in the place, And his soul looked forth in joy and made a sunshine on his face. Out from spire, and from turret, pealed the sudden New Year bells, Like the distant songs of angels in their fields of aspho- dels; And that lustrous child went sparkling to his aged father's side, And the New Year kissed the Old Year, and the Old Year gently died. AN INCIDENT OF THE JOHNS- TOWN FLOOD. Mrs. S. Etta Young. [During that awful night of horror a woman upon a frail raft, borne along by the angry waters, was heard singing this old-time hymn.] " ^^ES US, lover of my soul, J Let me to Thy bosom fly T Hark ! above the angry tempest, And the waves that beat the shore, Comes the sound of some one singing. Sounds a voice above the roar. ^ -^ Art is expression^ involving something to be expressed^ and a prober /ori-n as the medium of expression. — T. M. Balliet. 50 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, And the watchers, filled with horror, Mingled with a breathless awe, Heard the sweet and old-time music, Though the singer no one saw. Nearer, nearer, now 'tis plainer; List ! the words are borne along, As a soul that's fast departing Seeks her Maker with a song. And her gentle spirit passing From its home of earthly clay, Soon will find that blessed refuge, Soon will tread the shining way. " Other refuge have I nofie^ Hangs my helpless soul on Thee.'' Helpless? no, thy faith will strengthen Thee, and banish every fear. And the storm that beats above thee Brings thee heaven still more near. Oh ! the anguish; oh ! the weeping Of that awful, dreary time; But like oil upon the waters. Came the words of that old hymn, Though they knew no more, forever. Would the singer sweetly tell Of the refuge from all sorrow, Of the way that leads from hell. " Leave^ oh ! leave me not alone^ Still support and comfort me'' Not alone upon the waters, Still thy soul thy Lord will keep; Art is an act whose semeiotics characterizes the forms produced by the ac- tion of pozvers^ which action is determined by cesthetics^ and the causes o/\ which are sought out by ontology. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 51 And His hand will still support thee, Though the waves toss wild and steep. Frail thy bark, but great His mercy; And thy loved ones gone before Will behold thy face in rapture, Ere this long, dark night is o'er. Onward, still, the singer floating. Swirling, changing with the tide. Weak and frail, alone and dying, Where is he who made her bride ? Where the strong arms that would shield her? Where the broad and manly form That would brook no ill or danger, So that she should meet no harm ? Tell the story, oh, ye billows ! That with fury round her play, Tell how battling bravely, grandly. Did he give his life away. Tell the story of his daring. How he sternly baffled death, As he strove to save his dear ones With his latest fleeting breath; How the shining baby ringlets That were pillpwed on his breast. Lie there still in death's grim silence, That together now they rest. While the gentle little mother Floats away, alone, away, Through the storm and through the darkness To the golden endless day. All gestures may be divided into two classes: Gestures which inake refer- ence to objects; gestures which express the states or conditions of the being.- MosES True Brown. 52 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, And adown the shore the watchers Greet the singer and her song, Which no tempest sound can deaden. As the years shall pass, how long Will that singer be remembered. Telling from the gates of death Of the old-time faith and duty That makes calm the latest breath. And the sneers that men may offer, With the scholar's logic deep. Must be laid aside forever When we reach our final sleep; And the faith that Jesus taught us, In the words of that old hymn, Is the faith that's surest, safest, When the tempest shuts us in. While the refuge that would shelter Every proud and wilful head, Was the refuge of the singer. And her soul was free from dread. As above the tempest sang she. Sheltered by an angel's wing; While her last words, faintly spoken. ^' Simply to Thy cross I clings Simply to Thy cross ^ oh. Saviour !" Seemed they all to hear her say. As the dark waves closed above her, As they bore her form away. And through all that time of sorrow, Through the days of gloom and woe. ^ The Beautiful is an absolute principle', it is the essence of beings ^ the life of their functions. Beauty Js a consequence^ an eff^ect^ a form of the Beauti- ful. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 53 Seemed they still to hear that singer Singing softly, sweet and low: " Nothing in my hand I brings Simply to Thy cross I cling,'' PERDITA. A COSTUME STATUE RECITATION, T BREATHE, I move, I live! My pulses throb, my heart begins to beat! I feel the hot blood mounting to my cheeks! My nerves awake with strange electric thrill ! My limbs succumb to this new power, And bend obedient to my will! Oh, this is life! my wild desire, my bitter-sweet; Oh, mad delight! I kneel to welcome thee; I clasp thee to my passionate heart; I laugh to hear the echoes of my voice; I weep to feel the hot tears on my cheek, I move and turn to know that I am free ! A sudden mem'ry flashes through my brain And checks my gladness at its birth. Oh! once before I lived in this glad world, As glad as now. Perdita was my name, Perdita — lost? Aye, lost! Well named was I, Since lost I am to ail I knew and loved ! I loved Justitia — loved him ? Love him still! Moons waxed and weaned above our happy heads. Till June breathed over us her am'rous sighs. And roses blushed to greet her; then we made ready + —- ^ I The coming reaction from the tnodern scientijic era viust be steadily tozvard a time when there will be a better care for our bodies and vital needs, and truer appreciation of the «r/j. — Franklin H. Sargent. 54 DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK, For the marriage rites. The light-winged hours flew by Until the strange, glad evening came. Crowned with pale roses, 'mid the happy guests I stood, trembling, expectant, awaiting my lord. '' He comes,'' they cried, and parted to make room. Into my glad eyes some one was looking. It was not he, but Vindex, rejected suitor, spurned long since! " What dost thou here ?" ^^Justitia is false to thee; this hour is wedded to an- other," He whispered low into my dull ear. "Justitia false to me! this hour is w^edded to another! Impossible!" *^ The trailing fire of their mad revelry See thou here! Justitia forgets Perdita in the merry dance. Or in the soft caresses of his love^ Or remembers but to scorn. He mocks thee waiting. Though spurned by thee, I come to shield thee From the jeering crowd. Let Vindex share thy shame. Or interpose his ready arm 'twixt thee And mocking insult. Let Hymen's altar not be decked in vain. To shield and save thy honor, that is all I ask. When thou shalt bear my name, swift as a falling star I'll quit thy sight; can love do more?" Stung into madness by the treachery of him I loved Oh! better than the red blood of my heart. Better — hear it, ye gods! — than all my hopes of bliss — " 'Tis well!" I cried; *Met the procession move! 4- ^ Beauty is that reason itself which j>resides at the creation of things. — Del- SARTE. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. . 55 Justitia, let him not once be named among us. Once lord of my heart, henceforth accursed! Vindex, whom you all know has loved me long, The noble scion of a noble house, does me the honor To make me his bride. Let the procession move!" But when the merry wedding guests had gone. And echoes of the dance and jest had died away, I stood alone within my bridal chamber, Decked with white roses for my recreant love. Sadder than death. The midnight bell was tolling. Shrouded by curtains of the night, Vindex stole to my side. ** What dost thou here ? Thy promise ! Go !'* *' Thou art my wife !" He was my husband, I, his frightened, shrinking wife ! ^' My soul's sweet purity denies the bond. Betrayed by him I loved, oh, better than my life, I have no tongue to tell the madness that drove me To be thy wife. Oh ! I beseech thee, go ! I do not love thee ! Some law shall make This hateful marriage null. This chamber With white roses decked to celebrate our love Is but the symbol of the death of joy, of hope, of love, to me. I beseech thee, leave me to my madness, my despair!'* *^ I am thy husband, lord of thy house, lord of thy life. Perdita, listen. Once at thy feet I lay, Imploring but a word, a smile. What didst thou ? Spurned me from thy sight As thou wouldst spurn a worm. Wherever beauty is found there must be the two factors — the idea and the forvt^ so united that the latter is the expression of the former, — T. M. Bal- LIET. 56 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, I swore eternal vengeance that thou should'st be my bride; I have performed the vow. As fair as false And false as hell, thou'rt mine by means as false as thou. Justitia.lies in chains, entrapped by servitors of mine. He writhes, and prays to die ; calls on thy name ; Curses thy Vindex, ha-ha ! while I — feast on thy lips, Sweet lips, still sweeter since unwilling." *^ Oh ! no, no ! traitor! fiend! Justitia ! Justitia !'V Madly I fled away through hall and corridor, Flying as flies the hunted doe by blood-hounds tracked; Crushing the roses 'neath my heedless feet ; Tearing my costly, pearl-set bridal robes ; Hiding in ghostly shadows dim ; Holding my panting breath with close-clinched teeth ; Doubling upon my track, by terror urged, Pursued, o'ertaken, breathless, exhausted. At his feet I fell with one imploring cry : " Oh, Vindex, pity me !" *' Thou'rt mine," he hissed, And stooped to kiss me. Away I sprang again. New nerved by touch so foul. " Oh, heaven !" I cried, " make me unfeeling marble, Insensate to his loathsome kiss !" 'Twas done ! rigid as death I stood. Marble cold my cheek and lip. Marble my heart, nor hate, nor love could know. Unmoved I saw the frightened Vindex stand aghast ; Unmoved I heard Justitia come and fall and weep. ^ ■ ; ^ -4* The shoulder^ in every man ivho is niffved or agitated, rises sensibly, his I will playing no part in the ascension: the successive developments of this in- voluntary act are in absolute proportion to the passional intensity whose nu- meric measure they form; the shoulder may^ therefore^ be fitly called the | thermometer of sensibility. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 57 In a fair niche in Art's great temple placed I saw men's faces come and go, Like shadows of a long-forgotten dream. Wrapped in an ecstacy of bliss I stood, Indifferent how the hours sped by. My soul seemed trembling in an upper world, Twin sister to the beams of stars, Wooed by the chaste moon's silvery light, Or hushed to rest by southern winds That, murm'ring in the dusky pines, Sang low. Secrets I heard of upper air, Secrets of stars and planets there ; Secrets of songs that wild birds sing. And why the nightingale complains. But to-night a white star has leaned out of heaven ; It has beckoned to me, is beckoning still. With grief, or with joy, or with love overburdened, It is breaking its heart its secret to tell. Hush thy babble, oh, fountain! let me listen, let me listen. Be still, oh, night-winds ! in thy dusky pines ; Beat not so loud and so fast, my poor heart ! Some one is coming ; this white star is his message. Justitia ! Justitia ! my lover ! my lover ! Far off now, now nearer thy footstep I hear. Come quicker ! White star, give him these kisses. And tell him I live and I love him ! Oh ! weave me a veil of the mists of the morning To hide these hot blushes. Stay still on my forehead Marble whiteness and peace, that there he may kiss me And call me his angel, his bride as pure as the snow ! ^ — ^ ^ ^ In proportion to the depth and majesty of the emotion will be the deliberate- ness and slowness of the motion. In proportion to the SMperficiality and ex- I plosiveness of the emotion will be the velocity of the motion. The longer an agent of expression is held at rest., the greater will be its motion when re- I leased. — Moses True Brown. 58 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, Justitia ! oh, my beloved ! The winds have sighed themselves to rest, The moon has kissed the sea, As I shall sigh upon thy breast And lose myself in thee ' WHY MY FATHER LEFT THE ARMY. Charles Lever. Arranged by John A. MacCabe. " T)UT by the piper that played before Moses, it's more whipping nor gingerbread is going on amongst sodgers, av ye knew but all, and heard the misfortune that happened to my father." " And was he a sodger?" inquired one. *^ Troth was he, more sorrow to him, and wasn't he almost whipped, one day, for doing what he was bid. Maybe ye might like to hear the story, and there's in- struction in it for yes, too. *^ Well, it's a good many years ago my father listed in the North Cork, just to oblige Mr. Barry; * for,' says he, * Phil,' says he, * it's not a sodger ye'll be at all, but my own man, to brush my clothes and go errands, and the like o' that. Well, my father agreed, and Mr. Barry was as good as his word. " Well, for three years this went on as I'm telling, when one evening there was a night party patrolling, with Captain Barry, for six hours in the rain, and the captain, God be marciful to him, tuk cowld and died: 4- When a man says to you in inter jecii'i'e form^ " I love ^ I suffer^ I am de- lightedy etc., do not believe him if his shoulder remains in a normal atti- tude. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 59 more betoken, they said it was drink, but my father says it wasn't ; ^ for,' says he, * after he tuk eight tumblers comfortable, I mixed the ninth, and the captain waved his hand this way, as much as to say he'd have no more. Is it that ye mean,' says my father, and the captain nodded. 'Musha, but it's sorry I am,' says my father, * to see you this way, for ye must be bad entirely to leave off in the beginning of the evening.' And thrue for him, the captain was dead in the morning. " A sorrowful day it was for my father, when he died ; it was the finest place in the world ; little to do ; plenty of divarsion ; and a kind man he was. Well, when the captain was buried, my father hoped they'd be for let- ting him away ; but they ordered him into the ranks to be drilled just like the recruits they took the day be- fore. *^ ' Musha, isn't this hard,' says my father ; * here I am an ould vitrin that ought to be discharged on a pension, obliged to go capering about practicing the goose step, or some other nonsense not becoming my age nor my habits ;' but so it was. Well, this went on for some time, and, sure, if they were hard on my father, hadn't he his revenge ? for he nigh broke their hearts with his stupidity ; oh! nothing in life could equal him ; devil a thing, no matter how easy, he could learn at all, and, so far from caring for being in confinement, it was that he liked best. Every sergeant in the regiment had a trial of him, but all to no good, and he seemed striving so hard to learn all the while, that they were loath to punish him, the ould rogue! ** Well, one day news came that a body of the rebels, as they called them, was coming down to storm the ^ A The artistic idea within must for^n the ouiivard expression^ but that idea seevis in genius to be unconscious; you cannot mentally plan it at the moment of its exectction. — Genevieve Stebbins. 6o DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. town. The whole regiment was, of course, under arms, and great preparations were made for a battle ; patrols were ordered to scour the roads, and sentries posted everywhere, to give warning when the boys came in sight, and my father was placed at the bridge of Drum- snag, in the wildest and bleakest part of the whole country. " ^ This is pleasant,* says my father, as soon as they left him there alone by himself, with no human crayture to speak to, nor refreshment within ten miles of him; ^ cowld comfort,' says he, ^ on a winter's day, and faix but I've a mind to give ye the slip.' "Well, he put his gun down, and he lit his pipe, and he sat down under an ould tree and began to ruminate upon his affairs. *** Oh, then, it's wishing it well I am,' says he, *for sodgering; and, bad luck to the hammer that struck the shilling that listed me, that's all,' for he was mighty low in his heart. "Just then a noise came rattling down near him; and before he could get on his legs, down came the general, ould Cohoon, with an orderly after him. " * Who goes there ?' says my father. " ^ The round,' says the general, looking about to see where was the sentry, for my father was snug under the tree. " * What round?' says my father. "*The grand round,' says the general, more puzzled than afore. " ^ Pass on, grand round, and God save you kindly,' says my father, putting his pipe in his mouth again, for he thought all was over. I Esthetics is the science of the sensitive and Passional jnani/estatio7ts which are the object of art^ and whose psychic form it constitutes. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 6l "* Where are you?' says the general; for sorra bit of my father could he see yet. "*It's here I am/ says he, 'and a cowld place I have of it; and av it wasn't for the pipe I'd be lost en- tirely.* "The words wasn't well out of his mouth, when the general began laughing till 3^e'd think he'd fall off his horse. "'Yer a droll sentry,' says the general as soon he could speak. ** * Be gorra, it's little fun there's left in me,' says my father, *with this drilling, and parading, and blagaard- ing about the roads all night.' " ' And is this the way you salute your officer ?' says the general. "*Just so,' says my father; Mevil a more politeness ever they taught me.* *' * What regiment do you belong to?' says the gen- eral. ** * The North Cork, bad luck to them,' says my father, with a sigh. " * They ought to be proud of ye,' says the general. "'I'm sorry for it,' says my father, sorrowfully, 'for maybe they'll keep me the longer.' " ' Well, my good fellow,' says the general, ' let me teach you something before I go. Whenever your offi- cer passes, it's your duty to present arms to him.' "' Arrah, it's jokin' ye are,' says my father. " ^No, I'm in earnest,' says he, ' as ye might learn to your cost, if I brought you to a court-martial.' "'Well, there's no knowing,' says my father, 'what they'd be up to; but sure if that's all, I'll do it with all Delsarte achieved perfect triumph by abolishing self and always resuscitat- ing alive in its pure integrity the very truth of the characters he essayed. — Rfv W R Athrr 62 DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. " the veins of my heart" whenever yer coming this way again.' " The general began to laugh again here, but said: "* I'm coming back in the evening,' says he, * and mind you don't forget your respect to 3^our officer.' "* Never fear, sir,' says my father; ^and many thanks to you for telling me.' " The night was falling fast, and my father began to think they were forgetting him entirely. He looked one way, and he looked another, but sorra bit of a ser- geant's guard was coming to relieve him. * I'll give you a quarter of an hour more,' says my father, * till the light leaves that rock up there; after that,' says he, * by the mass! I'll be off, cost me what it may.' ** Well, his courage was not needed this time; for what did he see at the sam.e moment but a shadow of something coming down the road; he looked again, and made out the general followed by the orderly. My father immediately took up his musket off the wall, settled his belts, shook the ashes out of his pipe, and put it into his pocket, making himself as smart and neat-looking as he could be, determining, when ould Cohoon came up, to ask him for leave to go home, at least for the night. So he up with his musket to his shoulder, and presented it straight at the general. It wasn't well there, when the officer pulled up his horse quite short, and shouted out, ^ Sentry — sentry!' ** * Anan!' says my father, still covering him. *' * Down with your musket, you rascal; don't you see it's the grand round.' " ' To be sure I do,' says my father, never changing for a minute. Nothing is so unfamiliar to fnan as himself. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 63 ** ' The ruffian will shoot me,' says the general. <** Devil a fear,' says my father, ' av it doesn't go off of itself.' ^'^ What do you mean by that, you villain ?' says the general, scarce able to speak with fright, for every turn he gave on his horse my father followed with the gun — ' What do you mean?' " * Sure, aint I presenting,' says my father; ^ blood an' ages, do you want me to fire next ?' **With that the general drew a pistol from his hol- ster, and took deliberate aim at my father; and there they both stood for five minutes, looking at each other, the orderly, all the while, breaking his heart laughing behind a rock; for, ye see, the general knew av he re- treated that m}^ father might fire on purpose, and av he came on that he might fire by chance; and sorra bit he knew what was best to be done. " * Are ye going to pass the evening up there, grand round ?' says my father, ^ for it's tired I'm getting houldin' this so long.' ^' ^ Port arms,' shouts the general, as if on parade. " * Sure, I can't, till yer passed,' says my father, an- grily, * and my hand's trembling already.' " ' By heavens! I shall be shot,' says the general. ** * Be gorra, it's what I'm afraid of,' says my father; and the words wasn't out of his mouth before off went the musket bang, and down fell the general smack on the ground, senseless. Well, the orderly ran out at this, and took him up and examined his wound ; but it wasn't a wound at all, only the wadding of the gun, for my father — God be kind to him — ye see, could do nothing right, and so he bit off the wrong end of 4- ^ The affect precedes and determhies the ejff^eci. — M OSES True Brown. 64 DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. the cartridge when he put it in the gun, and by reason there was no bullet in it ! Well, from that day after they never got sight of him, for the instant the general dropped, he ran away; and what between living in a lime-kiln for two months, eating nothing but blackber- ries and sloes, and other disguises, he never returned to the army, but ever after tuk to a civil situation, and driv a hearse for many years." VOICES OF THE WILDWOOD. Ella Sterling Cummins. [To recite this poem well a certain airiness, lightness, and spon- taneity is required. There must be no conventional '* ha! ha!" in the laughter, but rather a gleeful, childish chuckle. The " voices" are half sung, half spoken. The first one, the meadow-lark, is especially queer in its notes^ being sort of slurred into each other. For this reason, it is a little difficult; and yet, because of its originality and simplicity of sentiment, very taking with an audience.] A S I was w^andering through a wood, All dark and dense and wild, I came upon a palace wall. And found myself beguiled By the bubbling notes of innocence — The laughter of a child. Safe was she within her world, And I was just outside ; To me she seemed a fairy child, It cannot be denied, For she was calling flocks of birds That came from far and wide. One can only appreciate the importance of an act ivhen he takes into account the nature of its agents, — Delsakte. i DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 65 A merry, trilling cry Came o'er the palace wall ; "Ah ! ha ! ha ! here am I ! Why, don't you hear me call ? Come froggy, birdlings, squirrel, too ! Don't you hear me calling you ? " Ah ! ha ! ha ! come this way, You darlings, every one, I'm broken-hearted quite to-day, The clouds are o'er the sun." Then rose a sudden sound of glee, ^ ^ ^:i^. ■±r» S^ r-^'~^ -T=t=^.F=r=^^ ^^ Sweet? Well! what do you thi?ik of 7ne 1 \^Imitation of meadow-lark^ half spoken^ half sung.\ " Oh ! meadow-lark, you darling dear ! You're always first to speak ; Come rest upon my shoulder, here, And press against my cheek." And then she sang most merrily, "- Sweet ? Well I what do you think of me V \_Same notes as before?^ ** Old froggy, down there wet and cool, Now what have you to say ? Are you happy in your pool. And how do you feel to-day ?" The frog his sweetest tune now tried, But '* Ugly ! ugly ! ugly T hoarse he cried. What we produce is merely the form of -what exists in our fninds. — Gene- vieve Stebbins. 66 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, *^rm sorry !" then responded she, Yet laughing at the jest, " Oh ! faithful wood-dove, answer me ! Whom do you love the best ?" The bird puffed out his purple sheen. And cooed, ^* My que-en I my que-en I my que-enT *^ You frisky squirrel on the wall. Have you no message, say ? Some message from the tree-tops tall, To lonesome Deirdre ?" The squirrel sat with tail upcurled, *^ Co77ie Mp I come up ! come ip and see the world T' ^' Oh ! tiny bird* with nodding head, What fate is waiting me ? Shall my true love and I be wed ? Oh ! what is fate's decree ?'* The brown bird moaned as he sang above, " Farewell^ 7ny love, Farewell, my love '* I turned away, I had no choice ; For I could not bear to stay And hear the sobs of that childish voice, The child in her sad dismay. And the brown bird moaned in the tree above, *' Farezvell, my love ! Farewell, my love /'* \^Same notes as before^ * A tiny species of fly-catcher found in the Sierras. Senteiotics is the science of the organic signs by which aesthetics jnust study inherent fitness.— Y)¥.\.%i^w^K. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 67 TEN ROBBER TOES. LiLLiE E. Barr. T^HERE is a story that I have been told, And it's just as old as babies are old, For sweet Mother Eve, as everyone knows, Told her babies the tale of the toes. Told to her babies how ten little toes, Each one as pink as the pinkest pink rose, Once on a time were naughty and bad ; And sorrow and trouble in consequence had. How this big toe wanted butter and bread, After his mamma had put him to bed ; And this lying next said: *^ S'posen we go Down to the pantry and get it, you know." And this wicked toe cried, " Come along, quick ; Let's sugar the butter ever so thick." And this naughty toe cried: " Jelly for me Top of the butter and bread, you see." And this little toe cried: ^^ Goody, let's go, We'll slip down the stairs so quiet and slow." So ten robber toes, all tipped with red. Stole silently out of their snowy white bed. While this wicked toe, so jolly and fat. Helped nine naughty toes to pitty-pat-pat Along the big hall, with pillars of white, And down the back stairs devoid of light. IBy gesture^ play of countenance^ and tone of voice ^ we can tell what a man thinks^ feels^ or wills; but by his physiognomy and the automatic movements of his body, we can tell what he is. — T. M. Balliet. ^•— -^ 4 68 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. Then this little toe got a terrible scare, For he thought in the dark of a grizzly bear. And this little toe said : " Nurse must be right That goblins and witches are living at night." And this little toe said : " A fox may be hid In the hat-rack box right under the lid." And this little toe cried : ^^ Dearie me, oh ! Lions and tigers is coming, I know." Then mamma came out with the beautiful light. Caught ten robber toes all ready for flight, Yes, she caught and she kissed those ten robber toes, Till redder they were than any red rose. HER LOVERS. TV /r Y first, my very first, his name was Will — A handsome fellow, fair, with curly hair And lovely eyes; I have his locket still. He went to Galveston and settled there. Or so I heard; oh, dear me ! dear me ! How terribly in love he used to be. My second, Robert Hill, he told his love The first time that we met — 'twas at a ball ; A foolish fellow — he carried off my glove. We sat out half the dances in the hall, I • The artist^ deprived of the knowledge of a criterion which gover^is his art, and to which he should submit all his work, can never be more than the ser- vile and blind copyist of works produced in a former and more enlightened epoch. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 69 And flirted in a most outrageous way. Ah me ! how mother scolded all next day. The third w^oke up my heart. From night till morn And morn till night I dreamed alone of him. I treasured up a rosebud he had worn, And my tears and kisses made his picture dim. Strange that I can feel that old, old pain. When I remember Paul, — that was his name. My fourth and fifth were brothers, twins at that. Good fellows, kind and clever, too. It was rather shabby to refuse them flat. Both in one day, but what else could I do ? My heart was still with Paul, and he had gone Yacht-sailing with the Misses Garretson. He never cared for me, I found that out, Despite the foolish clinging of my hope ; 'Twas proved to me, ere long, beyond a doubt. I steeled my heart. I would not fret nor mope, But masked myself in gayety and went To grace his wedding when the cards were sent. So these were all my loves. My husband ? Oh, I met him down in Florida, one fall. Rich, middle-aged, and prosy, as you know. He proposed, and I accepted ; that was all. A kind, good soul, he worships me; but, then, I never count him in with the other men. Gesture is not the accompanivient of speech. It viust express the idea bet- ter and in another 7vay, else it ivill be only a pleonasjn, an after conception of bad taste ^ a hindra?ice rather tha^t an aid to intelligible expression. — Delau- MOSNE. 70 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. STANZAS TO ETERNITY. Translated by Elsie M.Wilbor. [The following poem is really intended for a song, and Delsarte composed a quaint melody for it. It is republished for the first time here, and is suitable for a recitation. Mme. Arnaud speaks of the attention attracted by Darcier by his rendering of these * * Stanzas to Eternity." The picture accompanying this poem is a fac-simile of the engraving on the title-page of the music, and represents the scene in Delsarte's life where he had just buried his brother, and was overcome by cold and hunger. While in this fainting condition he had a dream in which angels revealed to him his life-work. — Editor.] f^\ MAN who art nursed by blind fortune, ^-^^ And thinkest forever its joys to possess! The cries of the wretched importune, Thy heart is close shut to their tales of distress. CHORUS. Rich, heedless one, go; for thy heart is of stone; Sweet charity's promptings thou never hast known. But pause and reflect — all on earth fades away. Eternity comes; oh, think well whilst thou may. When gayly thou'rt dancing, look yonder; For stealing away in the lamps' brilliant light A man old and ragged — oh, ponder, — Is starving and cold, a most pitiful sight! That child o'er his mother's grave bending. And off'ringall shiv'ring his thin hands for alms. At dawn will to heaven be ascending. Thy fingers drop naught in his cold, trembling palms. Art is not., as is said., an imitation of nature. It elevates in idealizing her; it is the synthetic rapport of the scattered beauties of nature to a superior and definite type. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 71 < IMV'* i^A'e^ Like him from great Nature proceeding All naked, in spite of thy poor, foolish pride; The tomb, toward which all life is leading, Will gather thy dust to his now despised side. The shade, that exquisite portion of art which is rather felt than expressed^ is the characteristic sign of the perfectio7i of talent; it forms apart of the personality of the artist. — Arnaud. 72 DELS A R TE REGIT A TION BOOK. ABSOLUTION. E. Nesbit. Arranged by Elsie M. Wtlbor. nPHREE months had passed since she had knelt be- fore The grate of the confessional, and he, The priest, had wondered why she came no more To tell her sinless sins — the vanity Whose valid reason graced her simple dress, The prayers forgotten, or the untold beads — The little thoughtless words, the slight misdeeds, Which made the sum of her unrighteousness. She was the fairest maiden in his fold. With her sweet mouth and musical pure voice. Her deep gray eyes, her hair's tempestuous gold, Her gracious, graceful figure's perfect poise. Her happy laugh, her wild, unconscious grace, Her gentle ways to old, or sick, or sad, The comprehending sympathy she had. Had made of her the idol of the place. And when she grew so silent and so sad. So thin and quiet, pale and hollow-eyed. And cared no more to laugh and to be glad With other maidens by the waterside. All wondered; kindly grieved the elders were, And some few girls went whispering about, "She loves — who is it? Let us find it out !" But never dared to speak of it to her. Science elevates man by subjecting to him the things of this world. Art su- pernaturalizes those things by identifying him. with the^n. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 73 But the priest's duty bade him seek her out And say, " My child, why dost thou sit apart ? Hast thou some grief? Hast thou some secret doubt? Come and unfold to me thine inmost heart. God's absolution can assuage all grief And all remorse and woe beneath the sun. Whatever thou hast said, or thought, or done, The holy church can give thy soul relief." He stood beside her, young and strong, and swayed With pity for the sorrow in her eyes. Which, as she raised them to his own, conveyed Into his soul a sort of sad surprise. She answered, "I will come ;" and so at last Out of the summer evening's crimson glow, With heart reluctant and with footsteps slow, Into the cool, great, empty church she passed. "By my own fault, my own most grievous fault, I cannot say, for it is not," she said. Kneeling within the gray stone chapel's vault, And on the ledge her golden hair was spread. " Love broke upon me in a dream ; it came Without beginning, for to me it seemed That never otherwise than as I dreamed Through all my life this thing had been the same. " I only knew my heart, entire, complete, Was given to my other self, my love ; That I through all the world would gladly move So I might follow his adored feet. I dreamed I had all earth, all time, all space, ^ ■■ ^ Almost all sinuousness depends on the easy control of the muscles at the waist. — Genevieve Stebbins. 74 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, And every blessing, human and divine ; But hated the possessions that were mine, And only cared for his beloved face. *^ I never knew I loved him till that dream Drew from my eyes the veil, and left me wise. What I had thought was reverence grew to seem Only my lifelong love in thin disguise. And in my dream it looked so sinless, too, So beautiful, harmonious, and right ; The vision faded with the morning light, The love will last as long as I shall do." "' Child, have you prayed against it ?" " Have I prayed ? Have I not clogged my very soul with prayer ; Stopped up my ears with sound of praying ; made My very body faint with kneeling there Before the sculptured Christ, and all for this. That when my lips can pray no more, and sleep Shuts my unwilling eyes, my love will leap To dreamland's bounds, to meet me with his kiss ! "Avoid him ? Ay, in dewy garden walk How often have I strayed, avoiding him, And heard his voice mix with the common talk. Yet never turned his way. My eyes grow dim With weeping over what I lose by day And find by night, yet never have to call My own. O God ! is there no help at all — No hope, no chance, and no escapeful way?" " And who is he to whom thy love is given ?" " What ? Holy church demands to know his name ? // is by means of art that the artist transforjns and anitnates inorganic bodies^ in stamping upon thetn the character o/ his li/e^ his soul, and his mind, — Delsarte. DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK, 75 No rest for me on earth, no hope of heaven Unless I tell it ? Ah, for very shame I cannot — yet why not ? — I will — I can ! I have grown mad with brooding on my curse. Here ! Take the name ; no better and no worse My case will be. Father, thou art the man !" An icy shock shivered through all his frame — An overwhelming, cold astonishment ; But on the instant the revulsion came. His blood felt v/hat her revelation meant. " Lord Christ,'* his soul cried, while his heart beat fast, " Give strength in this, my hour of utmost need ;" And with the prayer strength came to him indeed. And with calm voice he answered her at last: ** Child, go in peace ! Wrestle and watch and pray, And I will spend this night in prayer for thee. That God will take thy strange great grief away. Thou hast confessed thy sin. Absolve te.'' Silence most absolute a little while. Then passed the whisper of her trailing gown Over the knee-worn stones, and soft died down The dim, deserted, incense-memoried aisle. All night he lay upon the chancel floor. And coined his heart in tears and prayers, and new. Strange longings he had never known before. Her very memory so thrilled him through. He lay so tempest-tossed, 'twas still without, And moaned: '' Oh, God! I love her, love her so! Oh, for one spark of heaven's fire to show Some way to cast this devil's passion out ! It is no longer man as type of a class or member of a monarchy^ hut man as an independent individual^ whose art is in process of conception. — Franklin H. Sargent. ye DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. " Christ, by Thy passion, by Thy death for men, Oh, save me from myself, save her from me !'* And at the word the moon came out again From her cloud-palace, and threw suddenly A shadow from the great cross overhead Upon the priest ; and with it came a sense Of strength renewed, of perfect confidence In Him who on that cross for men hung dead. But as the ghostly moon began to fade. And moonlight glimmered into ghostlier dawn, The shadow that the crucifix had made With twilight mixed ; and with it seemed withdrawn The peace that with its shadowy shape began. And as the dim east brightened, slowly ceased The wild devotion that had filled the priest — And with full sunlight he sprang up — a man ! He strode straight down the church and passed along The grave-set garden's dewy grass-grown slope ; The woods about were musical with song. The world was bright with youth, and love, and hope. Soon would he see her — cry, "I am thine own, As thou art mine, now, and forevermore !'* And at her worshipped feet would kneel before, And she should kiss the lips that had not known The kiss of love in any vanished year. And as he dreamed of his secured delight, A mourning band, and in their midst a bier, Round the curved road came slowly into sight. He hastened to pass on ; a covering-fold Veiled the dead, quiet face — and yet — and yet — . ^ ^ One oftivo things ts necessary zn art: either that the divine ivork to be con- templated shall be abased to the level of man: or that he elevate himself to\ its height. — Delsarte. •— 4- DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. yy Did he not know that hand, so white and wet? Did he not know those dripping curls of gold ? "We came to you to know what we should do, Father : we found her body in the stream, And how it happed, God knows !" One other knew — Knew that of him had been her last wild dream — Knew the full reason of that life-disdain — Knew how the shame of hopeless love confessed And unreturned had seemed to stain her breast, Till only death should make her clean again. They left her in the church where sunbeams bright Gilded the wreathed oak and carven stone With golden floods of consecrating light ; And here at last, together and alone, The lovers met, and here upon her hair He set his lips, and, dry-eyed, kissed her face, And in the stillness of the holy place He spoke in tones of bitter, blank despair : " Oh, lips so quiet, eyes that will not see ! Oh, clinging hands that not again will cling ! This last poor sin may well be pardoned thee. Since for the right's sake thou hast done this thing. Oh, poor weak heart, forever laid to rest. That could no longer strive against its fate. For thee high heaven will unbar its gate, And thou shalt enter in and shalt be blessed. "The chances were the same for us," he said, "Yet thou hast won, and I have lost, the whole ; Thou would'st not live in sin, and thou art dead — A* ; = ^ ^ When the being contevipiates, or is filled with the vtajesty and poiver of a I great cause ^ as a love of liberty^ or of loyalty to conscietice and duty^ or of\ obedience to God^ all the agents of expression stand in poise or equilibrium. — Moses True Brown. | 78 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, But I — against thee I have weighed my soul, And, losing thee, have lost my soul as well. I have cursed God, and trampled on His cross ; Earth has no measurement for all my loss. But I shall learn to measure it in hell !" LADIES OF ATHENS. Mrs. M. a. Lipscomb. Scene. — Ho7?ie of Xanthippe, wife of Socrates, CHARACTERS. Xanthippe Wife of Socrates. Aspasia Wife of Pericles. Sappho , , Poetess. Philesia Wife of Xenophon. Pythias Wife of Aristotle. Cleobula Sister of Demosthenes. Damophila Wife of Damophilus and rival of Sappho. Nicostrata Wife of Sophocles. COSTUMES. [The costumes are all Greek, with variations of draping and color. Xanthippe's dress should be slightly shabby. Statuary against a crim- son curtain forms the background of the scene. Young ladies and children draped and mounted on pedestals, singly or in groups, for the statues.] ^/^ ANTHIPPE. Life is an absolute burden, and I am wearied with it. Here I am shut up within these four walls, robbed of the luxuries that my friends en- joy, with barely enough comforts to keep body and soul together, while Socrates, my husband, shiftless wretch that he is, wanders about the streets of Athens prating of justice and injustice, truth and falsehood, poverty and wealth, and so long as he can find listeners to his wild philosophies he cares not how fares it with me at The artist should first know what he ought to seek in the subject ; and^ sec- j ondly^ know where to find what he seeks. He wust have, in the first place, the faithful signal of the soughtfior thing: in the second place, the means of\ surely finding it. — Delsarte. I 4- DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 79 home. For months I haven't had a single drachma of his earnings; and for a whole year one mina is all that he has given to our support, and that was not the fruit of his own labor, but sent him by a generous friend! And yet we must be fed. ^^ Not live to eat," he would say, but ^' eat to live." To-day he will come home and expect to find the pot boiling and enjoy his savory soup and well-cooked barley bread; and if I perchance utter a single word of complaint, I am called a scold, a terma- gant, and told that Socrates married Xanthippe in order that she might discipline his temper! Oh, if I could only make him angry for once, how happy, how su- premely happy I should be! S^Enter Aspasia.] Xan. Why, good-morrow! you are most welcome. How fares it with you and your lord to-day, and where- fore this pleasure you have bestowed on me ? Aspasia. I have come to praise your husband. Know you not that while you sit quietly here at home, Athens is fairly wild about him ? As I passed by the market- place I beheld a vast concourse of people. Men were fairly pushing each other aside in their eagerness to hear. I asked what had brought the people together, and was told more than once that it was to listen to Socrates's teachings. As for Pericles, my husband, I but rarely see him now. Once I could interest him on the subject of oratory, and we often read and studied to- gether; but now he thinks there is no Avisdom except what proceeds from the mind of Socrates. Xan. Oh, Aspasia, it frets me to hear of this. If Pericles would only teach Socrates that women and I True passion^ which, never errs^ has no need of recurring to the study of what function nature has assigned to the eye^ the nose, the mouth, in the ex- \pression of certain einotions of the soul; but they are indispensable to the \ feigned passion of the actor. — A. Gueroult. ^ ™ ^ , 8o DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, children cannot dine or sup off philosophy, he would prove himself a benefactor as well as a teacher. Asp. But, Xanthippe, are you not proud of his fame ? Plato fairly worships him. He likens him to the masks of Silenus which may be seen sitting in the statuaries and shops, having pipes and flutes in their mouths; but they are made to open, and inside of them are images of gods. Xan. Aspasia, no; I am not proud of a husband who goes about the market-place in one garment, barefooted and bareheaded; who teaches that self-denial is the sublimest virtue, and that poverty is the greatest bless- ing. If you would be happy, keep Pericles away from him. Asp. Plato thinks him a more wonderful flute-player than Marsyas; for Socrates, he says, moves the souls of men simply with his voice without the aid of instru- ment, and he swears that he could grow old sitting at your husband's feet. He says, too, that Socrates is the only man that he ever envied, and who has ever made him ashamed of himself. Xan. Plato knows not whereof he speaks. Would to Zeus he were a woman and had married Socrates! But here comes Sappho. \^Enter Sappho.] Welcome, sweet poetess! Violets crown Sappho! Your presence always gladdens my heart and brings sunshine to my home. Asp. Good-morrow, friend; I find Xanthippe in too practical a mood to-day to enjoy hearing her husband praised. She thinks she would love him better if he had a little less wisdom and philosophy and a little more fish and fowl for dinner. Sappho. Fie, Xanthippe! Would you have your t T 1 As a knowledge of the parts of speech is not enough to make a writer^ so ex- ercises practiced mechanically with a view to the management of sound can never produce artists,— Dki.sarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 8 1 husband a fishmonger, a butcher, or a baker? He who feeds the body is no more than these. He who feeds the mind is best worthy of our thanks. Your husband is something above the common herd. ^^ He walks in air and contemplates the sun." Xan. Sweet, smiling Sappho, that will not do for a man of earth. High-soaring thoughts and words of wisdom will never be taken in exchange for bakers' and butchers' bills. Sappho, never marry a philosopher. Sap. Xanthippe, you do not value your husband as you should. Philosophers are kings, and should have crowns and be enthroned. The only hope that we have for our state is to encourage learning and crush out ignorance. Let Socrates teach the people, for wisdom hangs upon his lips, the light of knowledge is in his eye, and he alone is able to draw all men after him. Asp. Well spoken, pure Sappho, for none can be compared to the noble Socrates. He has learned the greatest, the hardest lesson of life — how to rule him- self. Had he given to Athenian youths but one precept, that of " Know thyself," he would be as immortal as the gods themselves. Xan. Will you ladies dine with me ? Perhaps you will change your views to-morrow. But pardon, I see yonder Damophila and Nicostrata. [Enter Damophila ^//^NicosTRATA.] Welcome, fair ladies; Xanthippe can offer but small cheer to her friends, but always a most gracious welcome. You know these friends? [^introduces t/ieni] Aspasia, the wife of our noble Pericles, and Sappho, our violet-crowned poetess. [Damophila sees Sappho and shows evident signs of jeal- oiLsy?\ ^ ; ^ The body is but the manifestation^ of the soul. It ts the form under which I the soul projects itself as it were^ into space and time, the medium through which it co-inmunicates with the material world and with other souls like it- self ,—T . M. Balliet. I '- ^ '- ^ 82 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. Damophila. Our visit to-day was to Xanthippe, wife of the illustrious Socrates. Damophihis, my husband, bade me tell you that his, nay, all philosophy, is but vain when compared to what is taught by the noble Socrates. NicosTRATA. Xanthippe, how blessed you are in being the wife of such a man. I would give half my life to enjoy the honor that is yours to-day. Dam, You do give voice to my own thoughts, Nico- strata. Damophilus and Sophocles say they feel they are but babes in knowledge when they contemplate all that your husband has accomplished; and as for myself, I am filled with contempt for my own weak verses and think them but the product of inanity. Sap. \aside with sarcasm]. True sentences and well pronounced. Dam. Madam, your opinion was not asked. Vouch- safe to give it when it is wanted. It ill becomes one who writes no better than a rhymester to speak in criti- cising terms of others. Sap. I but re-echoed your own sentiments. You gave birth to the thought, not I. Dam. Madam, you were only too glad of an oppor- tunity to insult me; and were it not for the respect I hold for Xanthippe, our hostess, with a woman's weapon I would lash you until you were sorry that you had spoken. Nic. Sweet ladies, I beg, I entreat that you do curb these wild passions. Xanthippe will be sorry that we have come if we make her house a scene of loud talking and jealous brawl. Dam. I had forgot. Pardon me, Xanthippe; passion ^ 4- Art zs divine in its principles^ divine in its essence^ divine in its action^ divine in its end. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 83 is like a stagnant pool — only stir it up and it gives forth odors vile and dank. Nicostrata and I came hither to-day expecting to find no one but yourself (the gentle Aspasia is always welcome). We have come to praise your husband and hear him praised. We have brought with us, too, the wonderful riddle of the Sphinx that is now puzzling the minds of all wise Athenians. Xan. Tell it me, for Socrates tells me nothing. He says that husbands should instruct their wives in ail they wish them to know; he gives me no instruction, and, therefore, he wishes me to know nothing. Nic, Sophocles, my husband, bade me give the rid- dle to you, Xanthippe, and ask that Socrates would find the answer. He has made King QEdipus, in his wonder- ful tragedy, give an answer both proper and true; but he wishes to have Socrates find a solution, which Soph- ocles knows will be fraught with cleverness and wisdom. Dam. Nicostrata, Socrates has said that the talent of women is quite equal to that of men; that there is no inequality except the inequality of strength. Suppose, then, you give the riddle to us; and should any of us solve it, you can take our answer back to Sophocles, so that he may know that Socrates is right when he says that the *^ ladies of Athens have brain as well as beauty." Nic. Well, as you will; it may serve for entertain- ment to Xanthippe and her friends. Listen: "There lives upon the earth a being, two-footed; yea, and with four feet; yea, and with three feet, too, yet his voice continues unchanging. And lo! of all things that move in earth, in heaven, or in ocean, he only changes his nature, and yet when on most feet he walketh, then is Gesture is the direct agent of the hearty the interpreter of speech. It is el- liptical discourse. — Delaumosne. 84 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. the speed of his limbs most weak and utterly power- less." S^All assume a thoughiftd attitude; fi?ially Aspasia speaks?^ Asp. 1 never solved a riddle in all my life; they make my head ache. Sap. Methinks this wonderful creature must be our neighbor dog, for he once walked upon four feet, now walks upon three, and daytime and night-time his voice is ever unchanging. Xan. Well answered, Sappho; you must be sleepless o' nights, and doubtless think the bark of a dog more terrific than his bite. Sap. In truth I do. Xanthippe, that dog has well nigh crushed all the poetry out of my nature, and made me half wish that I had been born deaf. Nic. Come, ladies, the riddle is yet unsolved. *^ There lives upon the earth a being, two-footed; yea, and with four feet; yea, and with three feet, too, yet his voice continues unchanging. And lo! of all things that move in earth, in heaven, or in ocean, he only changes his nature, and yet when on most feet he walketh, then is the speed of his limbs most weak and utterly power- less." Dam. I have it: Man it is thou hast described, who, when on earth he appeareth, first as a babe on hands and knees, four-footed, creeps on his way; then when old age Cometh on and the burden of years weighs full heavy, bending his shoulders and neck, as a third foot uses his staff. \^All clap hands and cry ^^ Bravo ! bravo T' except ^avvho.'] Sap. Her answer is a man, of course. Gesture is parallel to the impression received: it is therefore always an- terior to speech^ which is but a reflected and subordinate expression.— T>^\.- SARTE. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 85^ Nic. Damophila, you have solved the Sphinx's rid- dle. When I take your answer home, Socrates will be compelled to own that the wife of one of Athens' wisest philosophers is wiser than her husband. Know you not, ladies, that yesterday at a symposium at our house Sophocles gave the Sphinx riddle to a party of friends, and not one of them could divine a meaning in it? Dam. Had the answer been a woman they had not been so dull. But, Xanthippe, when your husband re- turns give it him. His thoughts travel beyond other men's thoughts, and he may find a deeper meaning than I have given to the riddle. Xan. Here comes Philesia. She too, perhaps, comes to tell me of some new trick of my husband whereby he may catch the people. \Enter Philesia.] Good-morrow, Philesia. Philesia. Good-morrow, ladies all. You wonder, Xanthippe, what has brought me hither at this hour of the day. My dinner is cooked to a crisp, and I am as hungry as a wolf. I was wearied with watching and waiting for my husband, and I wandered out on the street to know wherefore he did not come. As I passed the market-place I beheld a vast concourse of people, and I knew my husband, must be there. I concealed myself as near the people as I dared, where I could see and be unseen, and this is what I saw and what I heard. Socrates, your husband, bareheaded, barefooted, was mounted on a rude platform in earnest discourse; the people were so eager to drink in what he said, that they did not note anything that was passing in the street. I saw Xenophon seated at the feet of Socrates, busily writing all that he said. I was afraid to linger, but I The essential point is to get back to the truths to express the passions and emotions as nature manifests them^ and not to repeat mechanically a series of conventional proceedings ivhich are violations of the natural law. — Arnaud. ^ . 86 DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK, heard Socrates say: ** We have two ears and one mouth, that we may hear much and talk little." Xan. Oh, would that he practiced all of his precepts! Philesia, if Xenophon would only encourage Socrates to go back to his trade and give up preaching and teach- ing, he should have Xanthippe's heart's best blessing. Phil. But, Xanthippe, your husband's talent lies not in sculpture. He was born a philosopher; and would you cheat the age of his golden thoughts for the few paltry drachmas that he might earn by following his trade ? Xan. Philesia, golden thoughts do not satisfy hunger. Sap. Come, come, Xanthippe, you should be proud to feed the philosopher who feeds the world. Xan. a man's home should be his world. He who provides not for his own household is worse than an infidel. Asp. Tut, tut, Xanthippe; it grieves me to hear you talk thus. Come and dine with us to-morrow and hear your husband praised. These ladies, too, I hope will honor me. Plato, Pericles, and Xenophon shall all be there; and when you shall have heard them extol your husband's virtues, you will feel proud to be called wife by the foremost man in all Greece. Will you come ? Xan. I cannot; it shames me to say that I have no gown other than the one I wear. Asp. Then Socrates will honor us by his presence ? Xan. He shall not; his clothing is no better than a beggar's. [Enter Pythias, wife of Aristotle.'] Xan. Why, here comes Pythias ! She, too, has brought me tidings of my crazy husband. , ^ The artist should have three objects: To move^ to interest, to persuade, lie \ interests by language; he moves by thought; he moves ^ interests., and persuades by gesture. — Delsarte. 1 DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. %7 Pythias. Not crazy, Xanthippe, but absolutely un- like any other human being that is or ever has been. You may imagine Brasidas to have been like Achilles, but to your strange husband you will never be able to find any likeness, however remote, either among men who now are or who have ever been. I heard my hus- band, Aristotle, say of him, and he is no mean philos- opher himself, that the words of Socrates seem ridicu- lous when you first hear them, for he clothes himself in language that is as the wanton satyr. He talks of smiths, cobblers, and curriers, and he is always repeat- ing the same things in the same words, so that an igno- rant mxan who did not know him might be disposed to laugh at him. Xan. Pythias, Socrates is crazy; and when you go home, tell Aristotle that Xanthippe, his wife, says she wishes he would blister Socrates' head ! Py. Fie, fie, Xanthippe !> how wrong you are. You are out of patience with your husband, and, like the garbling multitude, see only the outer man. Plato says he who pierces the mask and sees what lies within will find that Socrates' words are the only ones which have any meaning in them; that his wisdom is di- vine. Xan. O, Pythias ! if Socrates would think less and w^ork more I should like him far better as a husband. Do you ladies know that he has not been home since yester morn at breakfast ? I am told that he stood all night on the market-place thinking over some problem concerning the life of the soul after the death of the body; and to-day he is still standing there prating his wild theories to a crowd of listening fools. ^ ^ Yoii cannot in an instant prepare the hinnan body for the traiislation, through that grand i7iterpreter, art^ of the best possibilities of the soul. There is too much imperfection in our nature. — Genevieve Stebbins. 88 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. \Enter Cleobula, the sister of Demosthenes^ bearing a beau- tiful basket of fruit ^^ Cleobula. Good-morrow, Xanthippe. Demosthenes? my brother, has just returned from the market-place, where he has stood all night watching your husband, deep in thought, waiting to hear him speak. He says that the streets were filled with people all night long; that they brought their mats and rugs and spread them upon the ground, and that not an eye was closed or an ear deaf during the whole night. Socrates stood silent, deep in thought. To-day light seems to have come to him, and he has been talking for hours. He has told such a beautiful story about a life beyond the grave; of this spirit, this soul that is within us, that shall never die. Demosthenes says that Athens has gone mad over Socrates; that his doctrines are so new, so beautiful, so comforting, that if he but command the people, they would fall down and worship him as a god. Xan. Tell Demosthenes Xanthippe says, make Soc- rates go to work. This is the message from his starving v^ife. Cle. I dare not go home with such a message. See here, he has sent this basket of fruit. When he gave it me he said: " Take you this to Xanthippe; hasten, sister mine, to bear my gratulations to the wisest man in all of Greece.'* Will you have it? Xan. Cleobula, I do not take it because I am proud of being the wife of Socrates, but because I am starving and crave the food. Tell him that Demosthenes is a greater benefactor than Socrates, for he feeds the wife whom Socrates would starve in order that Socrates might feed the world. Form is the garb of substance. It is the expressive symbol of a mysterious truth. It is the trademark of a hidden virtue. It is the actuality of the be- ing. In a word., for jn is the plastic art of the ideal. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 89 Cle. It will not be long, I ween, before your hus- band will return. The crowd had nearly all dispersed as I passed the market-place. I had one glimpse of Socrates, and he looked worn and famished. He will need refreshment when he returns, and will, no doubt, enjoy some of the fruit I have brought. Xan. Not a morsel of it shall he have. I will give him broth and barley bread, for that is better than he deserves. Look you, ladies, is not this fruit beautiful and tempting ? Methinks if I could only be well fed off cooling fruits like these, I should not have such a hot and hasty temper. \^Soc7'ates is heard calling out^ ^' Xa?ithippe I Xanthippe I Xanthippe .-'"] Xan. Hark, was that not my husband's voice? Asp. His call is weak and faint; answer him, Xan- thippe. A good wife regardeth the call of her husband. S^Socrates calls ^ " Xanthippe I Xanthippe I Xanthippe .^"] Sap. Xanthippe, I pray you heed your husband's call. Phil. Were it my husband, I should hasten to meet him. \^Socrates calls, ^' Xanthippe I Xanthippe ! Xanthippe .^"] Pv. I have no husband; but methinks that if I did have one, I should run to meet him before he had occa- sion to call. \^Socrates calls, ^^ Xanthippe ! Xanthippe ! Xanthippe /"] Asp. Woman, I pray you go to your husband. Sap. You are unworthy of such a husband, and the gods should curse you for it. Xan. Sappho, she who comes between husband and wife treads upon a dangerous sea. I know my duty. The folloivers of art should be able^ before and aboTe all^ to portray human- ity in its essential truths and according to the original tendency of each type. Mannerism and affectation should forever be proscribed — unless they are imi- tated as an exercise. — Arnaud. go DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. Phil. I pray you do it, then. [^Socrates calls^'' Xanthippe I Xanthippe! Xanthippe r'\ Py. By all that is holy, I pray you answer your husband. Cle. Go get him food and drink. \^Socr ate s calls ^ ^'Xanthippe! Xanthippe ! Xai^thippeT^^ Dam. Xanthippe, if you are human, go to your hus- band. Were he a dog and did bark in a piteous way, I should give him food and drink. You are no more than an ingrate to scorn a man whom all Athens is ready to fall down and worship as a god. Were I Socrates, I should never call you wife, for you are a libel on such a sacred name. Woman, go to your husband. Xan. Who commands Xanthippe? Damophila, you are a guest beneath my roof, or else that speech had been your last. Dam. Pardon me again, Xanthippe. I, like you, have too hot and hasty a temper. I should have entreated, not commanded. Socrates is your husband; you are bound to him by ties the strongest and holiest; he is weary and sick, and needs your service; I pray you go to him. \_Socr ate s calls ^ '-''Xanthippe ! Xanthippe ! Xanthippe T^ Nic. Xanthippe, all men are human. Socrates is a man, and therefore he is human. I beg you go to him and minister unto him. \ Socrates calls, " Xaiithippe ! Xanthippe I Xanthippe .^"] Xan. Sir, did you call? Socrates [^behind the scenes, in a weak voice\ Dearest mine, I am sick and weak; a little soup and barley bread, if you please. Xan. a little soup and barley bread ! I would you , 1 Gesture is the direct a^ent of the heart. It is the fit manifestation of feel- ing. It is the rei'ealer of thought., and the commentator upon speech. It is the elliptical expression of speech. It is the justification of the additional mcaninf^s of speech. In a word, it is the spirit of which speech is merely the letter. Dklsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 91 were not so easily contented. You wretched man of dreams, if you would but turn your thoughts from heaven to earth, your table might be fit for kings. Yes, I'll come, ril feed you until you are well satisfied and ready to go again to the market-place to spend the night in thinking, thinking, thinking. [ Curtain falls. ] THE DOLL DRILL. Adelaide Norris. TIJ^OR the best effect in this charming drill, the girls ^ should be chosen of different heights, the tallest pair in the centre, and the tiny ones at both ends. Their ages range between 8 and 12 years. They are dressed in black paper cambric dresses, made plain, with full skirts reaching to within three inches of the floor. The white nurse-apron should be at the same distance from the bottom of the dresses, and tie with strings of the same width. White mull kerchiefs around the shoulders, and white caps, complete the costumes. The dolls wear ^' baby dresses" of muslin, six inches below their feet. I find this a convenient length for handling ; besides, it looks well. They have no captain, and no one counts for them or calls the changes. A very slow march is best. When all have marked time, the signal is given, and they come out in pairs, the tallest leading. The dolls are carried on the left arm, w^ith the right arm placed over them. The eyes of the nurses rest on the dolls until they face the audience. 4. ■ : ^ 1 1 Conscious mental states are ^nanifested by the play of the countenance^ by the tones of the voice, and by gestiire. Unconscious jnental states, such as fixed \ forms or ty/>es of character, ivhether of thougJit;, emotion, or will, manifest themselves in physiognomy and the automatic movements of the body. — T. M. I Balliet. ' I 92 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 1. March to centre, turn square corner, step to the front of stage ; line divide in two divisions, march to right and left, turn, march half-way to the back, turn toward centre of stage, meet, march in pairs to the back. Then separate, march along the back to the outer sides of stage, then across the end nearly to the front. 2. March toward each other, but pass by. At the edge turn and march back as if to meet, but pass and turn once more. Then meet, and face the audience without signal. The music, in quadruple time, should be rather slow. My pupils took their signal from the fourth note of the first measure, and were ready for the first full measure. I found the most difficulty in getting the faces expres- sive and keeping the eyes of the nurses on the infants. Movements. Dolls on Anns as in March, I. Present. Clasp dolls with both hands, at the waist ; on I hold at arm's length till 3 ; then bring back to chin. Repeat three times. Bring doll back to position on shoulder on third beat of fourth measure. (Repeat I.) II. Support. Hold dolls at arm's length like a young baby, lying down on the left hand and forearm. On 3 swing back to left hip. Repeat three times. On 3 of fourth measure bring to position at the shoulder. (Re- peat 11.) III. Toss. Toss dolls four times, two beats ; rest four beats. Repeat three times. The left hand should sup- port the doll, the right hand in front at the waist. This movement is very pretty if the nurses look animated. (Repeat III.) IV. Affection. Hold dolls at the front, two counts, bring back and kiss, two counts. Repeat, filling four measures. (Repeat IV.) Lack of elasticity in a body is disagreeable from the fact that, lacking sup- pleness^ it seems as if it viust^ in fallings be broken^ flattened^ or injured: in a word^ tnust lose something of the integrality of its form. — Delsakte. ^ . . • DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 93 V. Obedience. Hold doll in left hand at the waist straight out in front ; with the forefinger of the right hand make the gesture to indicate that doll must obey. Make eight movements ; return doll to position ; rest two measures. Faces of nurses expressive. (Repeat V.) VI. Bows. Dolls face audience and bow, four counts for each bow, four times. Position at shoulder, no rest. Nurses' heads tipped to one side as if looking to see the '' pretty bows." (Repeat VI.) VII. Charge. Take doll in hands, the right hand over and the left hand under the doll, the feet on the nurse's left hip, the head pointing out a little obliquely like a "bayonet charge." Stamp heavily with left foot, eight counts. Rest in position at shoulder, eight counts. (Repeat VII.) VIII. Compare. Nurses tip heads together, two by two ; place dolls side by side for comparison, with pleased expression. On ninth count, back in position. Rest two measures. (Repeat VIII.) IX. Displeasure. Hold dolls at arm's length, with ex- pression of displeasure, eight counts. Back in position, eight counts. (Repeat IX.) X. Forgiveness. Hold dolls at arm's length, eight counts ; hug during eight counts, with dolls' heads over left shoulder. (Repeat X.) Each movement requires 32 counts to make the music come out right. After a few rehearsals the children associate the movements with the music and need no "calls." After Movement X., the dolls are dropped to the position of Movement II., and swung gently, while the nurses sing one verse of Brahm's " Lullaby," following it with the chorus of the Lullaby, from " Erminie." [The words and music for these are on pages 94, 95.] In this they are joined by an invisible chorus, singing the undertone ^'bye-bye." On commencing this latter selection, the house is gradually darkened, and the nurses march off, swinging their infants, singing raore softly. ^ ^ A It is not what we say that persuades^ but the vtanner of saying it. The mind can be interested by speech^ it must be persuaded by gesture. 1/ the face bears no sign of persuasion^ we do not persuade. — Delaumosne. A_ . ^ _A 94 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. P E4ES.^3^E^±ES=I LULLABY. Arranged from Beahms by 0. E. McFadon. 1 -\^H—r0- X-. ■ , :Si ^= L8E =F- zd 1. Lul - la - by and good-night With ros - es be- 2. Lul - la -by and good-night Thy moth -'er's de- A m=^i :i =-i=i= i w r~t=^ -i—i- t mi^^t^-^^: r- jNrrf? dight With lil-ies be - sted is ba-by's wee bed Lay thee liglit Bright angels a - round my dar-ling shall stand They will |: :s ::^=:^=^: ^=b^=d: P litZlt -•- -#- -0- -J- J- =8=i; i Egii a^ ?=F=t- f=t^ down now and rest, May thy slum-ber be gnard thee from harm Thou shalt wake in my blest Lay thee arms They will i :^-:i- :tzM=:± ::i=i zM-i)-¥ mz =n=^ :i=itii =F^ i I -^' ^ I down now and rest, May thy slum - ber be blest, guide thee from harm, Thou Shalt wake in my arms. ^^ j =E pj=j -^ — - -^z. — , _^ P^E DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 95 LULLABY. Arranged from *' Erminie" by O. E. McFadon. Chorus. z^-:^-=^4^zpzIi jizjizjtut: :^- «^-r- Bye bye drowsiness o'ertaking, Pretty little eyelids sleep, :2=^=^: ^=2^^z^^=di^^ i^ I -f-i Bye bye bye bye Bye W^ ^—^ — bye bye bye ss 'J3^=4=ti • • |%=|=^F| -s^--^ dim. |vt- -N— N- f=i=:i=f=i=i: :^ ^0 Bye bye watching till thou 'rt waking Darling he thy slumher deep. — I h^ — i-^- Bye bye bye bye Bye bye bye. -^- -^ -^- -^ -1l '-m 96 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. THE BELL OF INNISFARE. [There is a legend of the '' Bell of Innisfare," that if those who are in sickness and affliction can get some one to go and ring the bell on Christmas Eve, at twelve o'clock, there is a charm in the ringing at that particular hour which will restore all to health and happiness.] "T^WAS Christmas Eve, the feast so dear To little ones who wait its cheer; "For Christmas Eve, where'er it be, Always brings songs, and joy, and glee. But Christmas Eve with all thy cheer, Thou still art greeted with a tear. Where, in a cold and cheerless room. Filled by the twilight's darkening gloom, A child by fever-bed doth watch, A mother's voice and look to catch; So sad to her, through blinding tears. The joyous Christmas Eve appears. She sees each neighboring house grow bright, Till every window seems alight. And sounds of merriment begin; She hears afar the happy din. Her heart grows sadder still; but list ! Their songs come floating through the mist, Their voices sound so sweet, so clear, That each word she can plainly hear. " In the convent of Innisfare One ruined chapel still is there; It holds a bell with tone so fine. That when you draw the slender line, It works like magic, strange and rare, That little bell of Innisfare. In the vulgar man there is no reaction. In the man of distinction^ on the contrary^ vtotion is of slight extent., and reaction is enormous. — Delsarte., DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 97 That little bell of Innisfare Will cure your sick, if you but dare On Christmas Eve, at midnight hour, To try its wondrous healing power; We counsel you to hurry there. And ring the bell of Innisfare." The song had softly passed away. When burst from her who suffering lay A sigh so deep, and full of smart. As if it came from breaking heart; And then, with lips and voice so weak, In feeble accents thus did speak: *^ Ah ! that sweet bell of Innisfare, Oh! if your father had been there, Had he but lived till now, then I Should not in pain and sorrow die ; By sickness here no longer bound. Mary, my child, life would be found. If some good friend could now go there, And ring the bell of Innisfare." Thus far she spake, then sank again. Stopped by the leaden weight of pain. Without, the night grew darker still. And silence reigned o'er vale and hill; But hark! a latch is drawn — nay, more. Some one comes through the creaking door; It is a girl, so small and slight. With plaid around her folded tight. With naked feet and head quite bare, ^ ^ — . ^ The artist^ according to hts personal power of inspiration^ should be able to portray a totality of superior and harmonious qualities^ such as ivill compel any competent observer to recognize it as beautiful. — Aknaud. 98 DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. Exposed to storm and midnight air; With torch and staff her way to find, She dashes on quick as the wind. She only waited but to say, " May God protect me on my way." Up hill, through vale her pathway lay, Ever with step so swift and light. Oh God ! she's stumbled in her flight! Her lantern's broken on the ground! Its light is quenched, 'tis dark all round. The snow comes thicker, faster still, But she stops not for frost nor chill; To all she gives no heed or care. She thinks alone of Innisfare. Return in time, the ice is thin, It cracks, 'tis almost breaking in! From block to block, still safe from ill. She springs to land, and mounts the hill. The ruined chapel she must find, With pointed tower high in the wind; From the old tower there glances far That little bell, like some fair star. The door is open to her feet; Her work of love is now complete. Now, draw the rope the bell to ring, That to thy mother health will bring. What seek'st thou, child ? why wait'st thou on ? Ring it — oh, woe! the rope is gone! There at her feet, decayed and worn. It lies in fragments, old and torn. A H The soul which stops to contemplate its wings will never rise. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 99 The staircase, too, that led the way, Has fallen to time and fire a prey. Unhappy child! The cruel wind Seems mocking at thy faith, unkind; In vain thou cam'st through storm and snow, In vain o'er icy lakes didst go, Vain thy despairing, upstretched arm, To ring the bell thou hast no charm. The clock now strikes the midnight hour — If heaven help not, who else has power? She knelt and prayed: " O Saviour, dear, Do Thou Thy sorrowing child now hear: My mother told me Thou didst come, Year after year, to each child's home ; When they were bad Thou past didst go. But to the good Thy gifts didst flow. Oh, now remember me, I pray. And I will thank Thee day by day. If health and strength may come again To my poor mother, sick with pain!" And faster even as she speaks, The tears stream down the poor child's cheeks. But ere the twelfth stroke of the clock Had sounded over lake and rock. High in its groove the bell doth move, And swinging wide, from side to side, Peal after peal rings in the air, It rings, the bell of Innisfare! Gesture is the direct agent of the soul,, while language is analytic and suc- cessive. — Delaumosne. lOO DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK, 'Twas God that heard that earnest prayer, That faith and love had offered there; And as that bell, with tone so clear. Rang o'er the land, the child could hear, Mixed in its tones, like angels' song, Her mother's voice, soft, float along. Saved ! saved ! it said, with music rare, The little bell of Innisfare. ANNE HATHAWAY. /^NCE on a time, when jewels flashed, ^^ And moonlit fountains softly splashed, And all the air was sweet and bright With music, mirth, and deft delight, A courtly dame drew, laughing, near A poet — greatest of his time, And chirped a question in his ear, With voice like silver bells in chime: *^ Good Mr. Shakespeare, I would know The name thy lady bore, in sooth. Ere thine. Nay,* little time ago It was — for we still mark her youth; Some high-born name, I trow, and yet, Altho' I've heard it, I forget." Then answered he, with dignity. Yet blithely — for the hour was gay, "My lady's name — Anne Hathaway." *^ And good, sweet sir," the dame pursued, Too fair and. winsome to be rude, Art is the telescope o/ a supernatural world. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. loi " 'Tis whispered here and whispered there, By doughty knights and ladies fair, That — that — well, that her ro3^al lord Does e'en obey her lightest will. Now, my good spouse — I pledge my word — Tho' loving well doth heed me ill; How art thou conquered, prithee, tell," She pleaded with her pretty frown; ^* I fain would know what mighty spell Can bring a haughty husband down." She ceased, and raised her eager face To his, with laughing, plaintive grace. Then answered he, with dignity, Yet blithely — for the hour was gay, *^ Ah, lady, I can only say Her name again — Anne Hath — a — way." THE MINISTER'S HOUSEKEEPER. Harriet Beecher Stowe. Arranged by Elsie M. Wilbor. ^^^AL, you see, when Parson Carryl's wife died, my cousin Huldy undertook to keep house for him. She was jest as handsome a gal to look at as a feller could have, and a nice, well-behaved young gal. I've walked ten miles of a Sunday mornin' jest to play the bass-viol in the same singers' seat with her. But you know how 'tis in parishes ; there allers is women that thinks the minister's affairs belongs to them. And so Mis' Pipperidge and Mis' Deakin Blodgett and Mis' Sawin got their heads together a-talkin' about things. Affectation is in the arts the equi7>alent of sophistry in logic, of the false in morals^ of hypocrisy in religion. — Arnaud. I02 DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. ^' Poor man," says Mis' Pipperidge, " what can that child do toward takin' the care of all that place ! It takes a mature woman to tread in Mis' Carryl's shoes." " That it does," says Mis' Blodgett; '' and when things once get to runnin' down hill, there ain't no stoppin' on 'em," says she. Then Mis' Sawin she took it up. " I must say, Huldy's a gal that's always too ventersome about takin' 'sponsi- bilities she don't know nothin' about." Wal, the upshot on't was, they fussed till they'd drinked up all the tea in the tea-pot, and then they went down and called on the parson, and told him that it was no way to leave everything to a young chit like Huldy, and that he ought to be lookin' about for an experienced woman. The parson he thanked 'em, but he thought to himself, *^ Huldy is a good gal ; but I oughtn't to be a-leavin' everything to her, — it's too hard on her. I ought to be instructin', and guidin', and helpin' of her." So at it he went ; and Lordy massy ! didn't Huldy hev a time on't when the minister began to come out of his study, and went to see to things ! ** Huldy," says he one day, ^^ you ain't experienced out doors, and when you want to know anything you must come to me." "Yes, sir," says Huldy. " Now% Huldy," says the parson, " you must be sure to save the turkey-eggs, so that we can have a lot of turkeys for Thanksgiving." "Yes, sir," says she; and she opened the pantry-door and showed him a nice dishful she'd been a-savin' up. Wal, the next day the parson's hen-turkey was found killed. Huldy, she felt bad about it, 'cause she'd set her , ^ . ^ — ^ It is not absolutely true to say that the head is in the eccentric state because \ it is raised; for it may be that^ raised as it is, the direction of the eye may be even higher than it, and, in that case, the head might, although raised, pre- sent the aspect of the concentric state. — Delsarte. J DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 103 heart on raisin' the turkeys, and says she, *' Oh, dear ! I don't know what I shall do." *^ Do, Huldy?" says the parson; *Svhy there's the other turkey ; out there by the door and a fine bird, too, he is." Sure enough, there was the old tom-turkey a-struttin' and a-sidlin' and a-quitterin' and a-floutin' his tail- feathers in the sun, like a lively young widower, all ready to begin life over again. ^' But," says Huldy, "you know he can't set on eggs." " He can't? I'd like to know why," says the parson. " He shall set on eggs, and hatch 'em, too. What else be they good fer? You jest bring out the eggs, now, and put 'em in the nest, and I'll make him set on 'em." " O doctor !" says Huldy, all in a tremble ; cause, you know, she didn't want to contradict the minister, ** I never heard that a tom-turkey would set on eggs." But she took the eggs out, and fixed 'em all nice in the nest; and then she come back and found old Tom a-skirmishin' with the parson pretty lively, I tell ye. Ye see, old Tom didn't take to the idee at all ; and he flopped and gobbled, and fit the parson ; and the par- son's wig got 'round so that his cue stuck out straight over his ear ; but he'd got his blood up. Ye see, the old doctor was used to carryin' his p'ints o' doctrine, so finally he made a dive, and ketched him by the neck and stroked him down, and put Huldy's apron 'round him. "" There, Huldy," he sa)^, quite red in the face, " we've got him now ;" and he travelled off to the barn with him as lively as a cricket. Huldy came behind, jest chokin' with laugh. ^ _ ^ I The first great tktvg to be acquired is flexibility of the joi7tts. Free the\ channels of expression^ and the current of nervous force can rush through them as a stream of water rushes through a channel^ unclogged by obstacles. I —Genevieve Stebbins. 104 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. ^' Now, Huldy, we'll crook his legs and set him down/* says the parson, when they got to the nest ; '' you see he is gettin' quiet, and he'll set there all right." And the parson he sot him down, and old Tom he sot there solemn enough, and held his head down all droopin', lookin' like a rail pious old cock, as long as the parson sot by him. " There, you see how still he sets," says the parson. Huldy was 'most dyin' for fear she should laugh. **rm afraid he'll get up," says she, '^ when you do." " Oh, no, he won't," says the parson, quite confident. ^^ There, there," says he, layin' his hands on him, as if pronouncin' a blessin'. But when the parson riz up, old Tom he riz up too, and began to march over the eggs. '^ Stop, now !" says the parson. *^ I'll make him get down agin ; hand me that corn-basket ; w^e'll put that over him." So he crooked old Tom's legs and got him down agin ; and they put the basket over him, and then they both stood and waited. "That'll do the thing, Huldy," says the parson. "I don't know about it," says Huldy. " Oh, yes, it will, child. I understand," says he. Jest as he spoke the basket riz right up and stood, and they could see old Tom's long legs. "I'll make him stay down, confound him," says the parson ; for, ye see, parsons is men, like the rest on us, and the doctor had got his spunk up. " You jest hold him a minute, and I'll get som-ethin' that'll make him stay, I guess ;" and out he went to the fence, and brought in a long, thin, flat stone, and laid it on old Tom's back. ^ Dynamic reflections are produced by three niovevients: direct vioveineiitSy rotary movements^ and movenients of Jlexion in the a7'c of a circle. — Del- SARTE. DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK, 105 Old Tom he wilted down considerable under this, and looked i-ailly as if he was goin' to give in. He stayed still there a good long spell, and the minister and Huldy left him and come up to the house ; but they hadn't more than got in the door before they see old Tom a-hippin' along, as high steppin' as ever, sayin' ''TalS! talk! talk!" and '^ quitter ! quitter! quitter!" and struttin' and gobblin'. " Oh, my eggs !" says Huldy, " I'm afraid he's smashed them !" And sure enough, there they was, smashed flat enough under the stone. Wal, next week Huldy she jest got a lot o' turkey- eggs and set a hen on 'em, and said nothin'; and in good time there was as nice a lot o' turkey-chicks as ever ye see. Not long arter he took it into his head that Huldy ought to have a pig to be a-fattin' with the buttermilk, and old Tim Bigelow told him if he'd call over he'd give him a little pig. So he went for a man, and told him to build a pig-pen out by the well, and have it all ready when he come home with the pig. Wal, the carpenter he didn't come till most the mid- dle of the arternoon; and then he sort o' idled, fixed the well-curb, and went off and said he'd come and do the pig-pen next day. Wal, arter dark, Parson Carryl he driv into the yard, full chizel, with the pig. He'd tied up his mouth to keep him from squeelin'; and he see what he thought was the pig-pen — he was rather near- sighted, — and so he ran and threw piggy over, and went into the house quite delighted. Probably not one man in a hundred ever stopped to think that he cannot Tnake a single gesture ivtth the unconscious grace of a child or an animal^ for the simple reason that a7i arbitrary volition is so impacted in each jnuscle that he controls every sinezv artificially without knowing it. He is unconsciously constricted from head to foot. — Nym Crinkle. 4* 4* io6 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. ^^ There, Huldy, I've got you a nice little pig," says he. " Dear me !" says Huldy; "" where have you put him ?" "Why, out there in the pig-pen, to be sure." " Oh, dear me !" says Huldy, " that's the well-curb ; there ain't no pig-pen built," says she. " Lordy massy !" says the parson. " Then I've thrown the pig in the well !" Wal, Huldy she worked and worked, and finally she fished piggy out in the bucket, but he w^as dead as a door-nail ; and she got him out o' the way quietly, and didn't say much ; and the parson, he took to a great Hebrew book in his study, and says he, " Huldy, I ain't much in temporals," says he. Wal, Mis' Deakin Blodgett an' Mis' Pipperidge begun to talk that it railly wasn't proper, such a young gal to be stayin' there, who everybody could see was a-settin' her cap for the minister. Mis' Pipperidge said that so long as she looked on Huldy as the hired gal she hadn't thought much about it; but Huldy was takin' on airs as an equal, an' appearin' as mistress o' the house in a way that would make talk if it went on. And Mis' Pipperidge she driv 'round up to Deakin Abner Snow's, and down to Mis' 'Lijah Perry's, and asked them if they wasn't afraid that the way that the parson and Huldy was a-goin' on might make talk. Finally Mis' Sawin she says to Huldy, '^ My dear, didn't you never think that folk would talk about you and the minister?" " No ; why should they ?" says Huldy, quite innocent. " Wal, dear," says she, " I think it's a shame ; but they say you're tryin' to catch him." Outiuard gesture being only the echo o/ the inivard gesture nvhich ga^e birth to it and rules it., should be inferior to it in development y and should be in some sort diaphanous. — Delsarte. V 4- DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK, 107 Huldy was a gal o' spirit, but it made her drefful un- comfortable. The minister he had the same thing from one of his deakins, and when he saw Huldy so kind o' silent, he says to her, "What's the matter, my child?" "Oh, sir !" says Huldy, " is it improper for me to be here ?" "No, dear," says the minister, "but ill-natured folks will talk; but there is one way we can stop it, Huldy — if you will marry me. You'll make me very happy, and ril do all I can to make you happy. Will you ?" Next Sunday mornin', when the minister walked up the aisle with Huldy, all in white, arm-in-arm with him, and he opened the minister's pew, and handed her in as if she was a princess, wal, I guess there was a rustlin' among the bunnets. Mis' Pipperidge gin a great bounce, like corn poppin' on a shovel, and her eyes glared through her glasses at Huldy as if they'd a sot her a-fire; and everybody in the meetin'-house was a-starin', I tell ye. Wal, arter meetin' they all come 'round the parson and Huldy at the door, shakin' hands and laughin'; for by that time they was about agreed that they'd got to let putty well alone. " Why, Parson Carryl," says Mis' Deakin Blodgett, "how you've come it over us." " Yes," says the parson, with a kind o' twinkle in his eye. "I thought," says he, "as folks wanted to talk about Huldy and me, I'd give 'em somethin' wuth talkin' about." Unlike speech^ %vhich differs ivith different 7iationalities^ the lang^uage of gesture is the same among all classes, varying only in degree or intensity. A Frenchman uses the same jnuscles to express approval that an Italian uses; a Rjissian froivns as does an A merican, given the same emotio7i. A n English- man manifests disgtist by the action of certain mouth-muscles, under the same emotion, as does an American Indian. — Mrs. Frank Stuart Parker. I08 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. A TRAGEDY OF SEDAN. Arranged by Ida K. Hinds. T HAD seen him in battle, and he was a man To watch in a conflict. I'd seen him when death Struck down at his feet the one comrade he loved; But never before, upon field or in camp, Had beheld in his face such a look of the grave As he brought yester night to the door of my tent. So dread in suggestion of anguish, I leapt In dismay to my feet. Was he ill? Was he hurt? But at that He was straight at my side with a bound. " Ay, in grief ! And you talk of it, you ! talk of grief ! but 'tis easy. We all talk of grief. But enough: I must tell You the whole or go mad. My friend," and his eyes Glared wnldly on mine through his thick, fallen hair — ** Have you loved? Yes? In the pause Of the death-dealing guns one may ask, may he not, Such a question as that of a man ?" For repl}?" I drew from my bosom a curl that I kissed. And put back on my heart without words. 'Twas enough; He bent down at my side with a cry: '^ Is she fair? Has she eyes like a dove and a step like a deer. So gentle and wild ? Do you love her — O heaven!— With the force of your body, your spirit, and heart ? Ah! 'tis folly to ask. A woman must die 4- Every to7ie necessarily contains the tonic, its generator^ the dominant, its en- I gendered, and the >nediant, ivhich proceeds /roui the other tzvo. The reunion of these three tones^ -which makes thevi into one, /orms the perfect chord. — Dels ARTE. I DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. 109 « Or turn false to be loved so. Pray heaven You may die ere you come to a passion like that!'* Looking down, He took from, his finger a ring, and then said: "She was pledged to me, friend; was my hope from a child; Was my life, you might say. In the mesh of her glance All my being was thralled. Not a dawn rose upon me But I woke with the thought of her beauty. Ah, I know Such a love is not good, that its passion undoes What its purity makes; but a man cannot choose His fate from the heavens, and this love, as it was. Was my fate. " Well, her heart gave response to my suit, And we had been wedded two long years ago. But love is ambitious. To give her a home I left her, and, far from her voice and her smile, Worked my way up to fortune. Oh, the long, long months! But they passed, and at length Came the day of return. Ah, that day ! Like a flame It flares ever before me. Her looks and her smiles Will not flit, will not fly. As we walked up the street The bells broke out ringing. For three months of doom I have heard them; they never have ceased in my ears. ** But no dwelling on that. 'Tis enough I was happy that day. Ah, you wonder what now! You, sitting at ease in your tent, with the tress Of a tender, true woman like balm on your breast. Wonder what could have turned all this rapture to woe It is not ideas that ino7>e the masses; it is gestures. We easily reach the heart and soul through the senses. Music acts especially on the senses. It purifies them., it gives intellige?ice to the hand^ it disposes the heart to prayer. — Delaumosne. no DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, In a moment. Ah, God! 'twas not much, not much! Only this: When I rose in the dusk from my guests ('Twas my wedding-eve, friend) my beloved was gone ! Yes, yes, gone as certain as joy — Gone, gone, gone, gone ! Not a word of farewell, Not a look; just that smile that w^as love, or like love, And then this great gulf. *^ Oh, may the world Grow old and shrink up in the hands of the Lord Ere another night creep by like that! Not till morn Did they tell me the whole — how for weeks he had been In the town by her side; stealing up in the dusk To drop a stray rose in her hand — I say It was not until morning they told me all this; Meantime she was gone. ** Well, I lived — lived to seek him. Do you know what that means ? By the chances of war You have been in your time the hunted, spent deer. Have you e'er been the hound ? Can you reckon of days When, with fire in your blood and revolt in your brain, You wandered the world with your eyes on the face Of each man that you met? And the nights — The nights without sleep, and the dreams. The visions that swam in the air, and made hot The breath of the north wind; the doubts and the hopes ! ** For three months I lived thus. And then came despair. From the German frontier Rose a clamor for soldiers. I heard, and grew calm. I The most powerful of all gestures is that which affects the spectator without his knowing it. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, in ^ It is well !' I exclaimed. ^ Men are shot in the field; Let the enemy slay me.' So I came to the war," He paused here a moment, and drew from his breast A crumpled white paper, streaked over with blood. And laid it before me. " You say this was anguish," he cried, " but I say It was nothing — just nothing. My friend, can you think What it were, or might be, if the woman you love — Nay, nay, hear me out — should be walking above The horrid, steep side of a gulf, and you saw Her footsteps draw nearer and nearer, and yet Were too far to shriek warning; and at last, as you looked, Behold her slip over ! — those eyes that you love. The forehead, the hair — saw her struggle and catch At some dizzy small branch that would hold but a breath. And you yet afar? Can you think what it were To hear her shriek out with assurance you'd heed And would come, and that instant, while heaven and earth Were one glare, and you rushed, to be caught, man, be caught In a network of hell which you could not escape, While she — your heart's own — O death ! Yet is that My soul-torment. Look here !" and his shaking hand smoothed The white paper before me. ^^ Did you think she was false ? Exceptional talents require an exceptional public who can understand them and make them popular by applauding and explaining them. — Arnaud. 112 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. She was true, friend, was true; true as light, true as heaven. I have known it three hours. " Beguiled, do you see? Wooed away from my side with some smooth, hurried tale, Till the length of the garden lay 'twixt us. Ah! ah! Is there vengeance in hell for such villains? The rest? You can guess how it happened — his sudden appeal — The carriage — the horses — her cry which we heard not — The rush and the night. Do you doubt it is true ? It is written here. See the tremulous lines How they cross and recross. But she's true! 'tis enough. Do you see all my anguish ?" With hand and with voice I strove in my pity to calm him; but he. Staggering backward, went on: *''Tis not all. She is held In his power by his spies ! he would w^ed her — great heaven! Make her countess or something; just stab her, I say! And she calls me, entreats me by all I adore. To come quick. Ha, ha! " and his awful laugh whirled On the night wind. "Come quick! And I'm bound! "How it came to this spot, when, I know not. It w^as put in my hand as I strode from the field By some one who cried, ^ If you hasten, perhaps You have time still to save her.' Away to the chief Sound contains three sounds: that of the tonic^ the dominant^ and the me- diant. The tonic {Father) necessarily gejierates the dominant {Son\ and the mediant {Holy Ghost) proceeds necessarily from the first two. — Delsarte. DELSAR TE REGIT A TION BOOK. 1 1 3 I hurried, a madman. What was France to me now, Or the world? I fell down at his feet in despair; Told him all; showed my billet — in vain, all in vain! And to-morrow's the day of the battle!" As in that He had touched the whole depth of his woe, he flung up His arms to the sky for a moment, and then Sank down like one shot. When I rose from his side. The dread morn of battle flamed high in the east. Do you ask me for more ? Lift the end of that cloth And behold ! It is calm now, you see, sirs, quite calm. 'Twas not so yester eve. When he fell, all the din Of the battle served not to o'erwhelm from my ears The shriek that he gave. HAUNTED BY A SONG. Translated and Adapted from the French. [Those who have heard a catching melody at the opera and have been haunted by it for days, under all circumstances — and who has not thus suffered ? — will appreciate this monologue. In each place where the word is repeated several times, the reciter will fit them to the tune of the song and, of course, sing them. — Editor.] Jones \e7iters^ pale and /iaggard\ T AM all out of sorts ; I am miserable, I am wretched. I am quite a different creature from what I was two days ago. I was all right then. I went to the theatre, to the Casino. The play they gave was awfully funny. There was a young lady in it, and a young man who 4, ^ // is easy to distinguish the man of heard ^ of hearty and of action. The first makes many gestures of the head; the second many of the shoulders; the last I moves the arms often and inappropriately . — Delaumosne. 114 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. i Music of Song in ^''Haunted by a Song^ Allegretto. «•• :fi; -S- it i ^ :Sz=pi iS=J=ii :^= F#^ 3 • ^ i 1 ^ ■■ N N - =M — ^— — r — P — s — • — n ^ ^ :i=d m W ^=3^?^ Pijiii •8: ^el :± wanted to marry the young lady, and some people who wanted to prevent the marriage, and some more people who wanted the marriage to take place— in short, I for- get all that happened, but it came out all right; they Inflection is the life of speech; the mind lies in the articulative values^ in the distribution of these articulations and their progressions, 1 he soul of speech is in gesture. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 115 got married in the end. Then they were all very happy, and they sang a song, tra la la la la la, etc. \^Smgs the whole tiine.^ Of course, I felt happy, too, as I left the theatre, for it was such a pretty air. It was very cold. I turned up my collar around my ears and hurried home, tra la la la, etc. When I reached my door, I rang the bell, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding. I live on the top floor; I climbed the stairs quietly [smgmg under his breath^, tra la la la la la la la la. I lighted my candle la la, undressed la la la, got into bed and fell asleep. \^S?iores o?t the sa7?ie tune. ] The next morning w^hen I aw^oke the weather was superb, and I was in excellent mood ! I sprang up, tra la la la, plunged my head in the water, fl fl fl fl fl fl. I was in the^ best of spirits! Somebody knocked at my door. I went to open; it was my landlady, who handed in a letter. [Makes the motion of opening the letter and readings 7vhile he sings.^ Tra la la la la la la — oh! dear me! my poor aunt! on her death-bed! Quick! my hat, my overcoat, my umbrella! I reach the street, I hail a cab — " Coachman, Grand Central depot! A dollar extra for you if you go fast, fast„ fast, fast!" I reached the station, left my umbrella behind me in the cab, cab, cab. No matter, I caught the train, train, train! \_Out of breath.^] It was the express, press, press, press. My poor aunt ! I was fond of my poor aunt, even if she were only an aunt by marriage. When I arrived she died in my arms. I was distressed, tressed, tressed! Oh! I wish I could get rid of this tune. I had to attend 4- \ ^'^ I The human body viay be regarded as the expression of the soul. Hence it I is possible to read a man's character^ and ei'en his very thoughts^ in his coun- tena^ice and manner. Hence every charige in character., as it beco^nes fixed. \prodttces a corresponding change in the countenance. Passion not only cor- I rodes the heart., but also disfigures the expression of the fiace. — T. M. Balliet. | Hh — — ' Ii6 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. to everything— newspapers, death-notices, tra la la la la la la la la. That tune was with me even as I followed her body to the grave. The undertaker said to me : "You seem all broken up, sir." " Oh!" I answered, " I am in despair pair, pair, pair, pair, pair ! ! !" I hate it ! I abominate it ! I — well, as long as I can't get rid of it, I shall use it to express my grief. \^Sings^ I have just lost my poor auntie, I have just laid her in the ground, A small income she has left me, Therefore to mourn her I am bound. She was ever a good, kind woman. And her loss is to me severe. For I was her favorite nephew. So I hasten to drop a tear. Tra la la. Well, all was over at last. I took the train back to New York. My head was ready to burst, burst, burst. I got out at the Grand Cen-cen-cen-tral Depot, pot. I hurried through like a mad, mad, mad man, knocked down everybody, took the first street in front of me, then the first one to the left, the next one to right, right, right, another one to the left, brought up at the East River, gazed at the water, ter, ter, ten Ah ! never to sing that any more ! To die ! I threw myself into the river and was drowned gl gl gl gl gl. \Sighs with satisfaction?^ When I came to, I was in the station-house. My clothes were drying before the fire, and that cursed tune was still throbbing through my brain. Tra la la la la la la la la, etc. \^Exit in despair^ humming the tune^ Sound is the reflection of the divine i>nage. In sound there are three reflex images: the reflex of life^ the reflex of the intellect^ the reflex of love. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 117 AUCTIONING OFF THE BABY. A A/' HAT am I offered for Baby? Dainty, dimpled and sweet From the curls above his forehead To the beautiful rosy feet; From the tips of the wee pink fingers To the light of the clear brown eye. What am I offered for Baby?* Who'll buy? who'll buy? who'll buy What am I offered for Baby ? " A shopful of sweets?" Ah, no! That's too much beneath his value Who is sweetest of all below! The naughty, beautiful darling! One kiss from his rosy mouth Is better than all the dainties Of East, or West, or South! What am I offered for Baby? " A pile of gold?" Ah, dear, Your gold is too hard and heavy To purchase my brightness here. Would the treasures of all the mountains, Far in the wonderful lands, Be worth the clinging and clasping Of these dear little peach-bloom hands? So, what am I offered for Baby? "A rope of diamonds?" Nay, If your brilliants v/ere larger and brighter Than stars in the Milky Way, Articulate language is iveak because it is successive. It mtist be enunciated phrase by phrase; by ivords^ syllables^ letters^ consonants^ and vowels. — Del- AUMOSNE. Ii8 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. AVould they ever be half so precious As the light of those lustrous eyes, Still full of the heavenly glory They brought from beyond the skies? Then, what am I offered for Baby? " A heart full of love and a kiss?" Well, if anything ever could tempt me, 'Twould be such an offer as this! But how can I know if your loving Is tender, and true, and divine Enough to repay what I'm giving In selling this sweetheart of mine? So we will not sell the Baby! Your gold and gems and stuff. Were they ever so rare and precious, Would never be half enough! For what would we care, my dearies. What glory the world put on If our beautiful darling were — going; If our beautiful darling were — gone! THE LITTLE WHITE BEGGARS. Helen W. Ludlow. T^^HE small waves came frolicking in from the sea, Leaping the rocks where the big breakers roar ; Snowy crests tossing, so proud to be free, Racing and chasing in baby-like glee Up the sand slope to the beach cabin door. Throned on the post of the sea-looking gate, Safe in the fold of my sheltering arm, Breathing is a threefold act: inspiration^ suspension^ expiration. — Del- SARTE. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 119 Sat three-year old Dick, like a king in his state, Little feet drumming at rapturous rate — Small King Canute, do the waves own thy charm ? Do I slander the soul of my small human boy? ^^ Look out, then, my Dick, over ocean's blue floor. And tell me what fancies those deep thoughts employ. Ha! Dick, see them come! Do you join in the joy Of the little white horses all racing for shore?" The tiny, uplifted arm paused in the air, The blue eyes grew thoughtful, the breeze-tousled head Shook sunbeams around, and the sweet little pair Of coral lips, trembling with utterance rare, ** Doze isn't white horses," he earnestly said. "What, not little horses, Dick? See how they run. All their curly white manes floating back on the sea, Dashing the drops up to shine in the sun. Racing and chasing — what glorious fun!" " No, no; doze is 'ittle white beggars," said he. ** 'Ittle white beggars," he murmured again. "Oh, little white breakers, you mean, I suppose." " Not 'ittle white b'akers " — suggestion was vain, My wisdom rejected with baby disdain — " 'Ittle white beggars dey is; I know^s." " Little white beggars — well, that's an idea ! Then perhaps you can tell so we'll all understand. What these little white beggars come begging for here ?" And the soft baby lips whispered, close to my ear, " Dey begs for de wocks, an' de sea-weed, an' sand." Gesture is juagnetic^ speech is not so. Through gesture we subdue the most ferocious animals. — Delaumosne. I 120 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. GRANDFATHER WATTS'S PRI- VATE FOURTH. H. C. BUNNER. r^ RANDFATHER WATTS used to tells us boys ^^ That a Fourth wan't a Fourth without any noise, He would say, with a thump of his hickory stick, That it made an American right down sick, To see his sons on the nation's day Sit round in a sort of a listless way, With no oration and no trained band, No firework show and no root beer stand. While his grandsons, before they were out of bibs, Were ashamed — great Scot! — to fire off squibs. And so each Independence morn Grandfather Watts took his powder-horn And the flint-lock shotgun his father had When he fought under Schuyler, a country lad. And Grandfather Watts would start and tramp Ten miles to the woods at Beaver camp; For Grandfather Watts used to say — and scowl — That a decent chipmunk, or woodchuck, or owl Was better company, friendly or shy. Than folks who didn't keep Fourth of July; And so he would pull his hat down on his brow, And march for the woods sou'east by sou'. But once — ah! long, long years ago; For grandfather's gone where good men go — One hot, hot Fourth, by ways of our own. Such short cuts as boys have always known. We hurried and followed the dear old man Every impression^ to become a sensation., must first be perceii'ed by the in telligence; and thus we may say of the sensation that it is a definite iitipf es- sion. — Dels ARTE. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 121 Beyond where the wilderness began, To the deep black woods at the foot of the dump, And there was a clearing and a stump — A stump in the heart of a great, wide wood; And there on that stump our grandfather stood, Talking and shouting out there in the sun, And firing that funny old flint-lock gun Once in a minute, his head all bare. Having his Fourth of July out there — The Fourth of July he used to know Back in eighteen and twenty, or so. First, with his face to the heaven's blue, He read the "' Declaration" through; And then, with gestures to left and right. He made an oration erudite. Full of words six syllables long; And then our grandfather broke' into song! And, scaring the squirrels in the trees. Gave " Hail, Columbia!" to the breeze. And I tell you the old man never heard When we joined in the chorus, word for word! But he sang out strong in the bright blue sky. And if voices joined in his Fourth of July, He heard them as echoes from days gone by. And when he had done, we all slipped back As still as we came, on our twisting track. While words more clear than the flint-lock shots Rang in our ears. And Grandfather Watts? He shouldered the gun his father bore And marched off home, nor'west by nor*. I The plastic art allies itself particularly to the physical constitution^ but the physique cannot be perfectly beautiful unless it juanifests intellectual and moral faculties. — Arnaud. 122 DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. A MODERN VERSION OF THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. Joseph Barber. T N the city of Venice, blank-blank Anno Domini, Lived one Signor Antonio, who seemed, to the common eye. As much richer than any who there turned a penny. As the richest plum-pudding is richer than hominy. He had made piles of rocks by shrewd corners in stocks; Had ^* collateral " no end in his Herring's strong box; Owned of steamers whole lines, several Idaho mines, And had ne'er known financial disaster; In short, was a man of pith, pluck, and elan^ In whom nature had blent, on the composite plan, The vim of the well-known Cornelius Van, With the prudence of William B. Astor. To him came one day, in a terrible way, Bassanio, his friend, who'd been cleaned out in play, And says he: ^^ Won't you loan me three thousand, now say ? It's all right; I've resolved my addresses to pay To that Belmont girl, Portia, the heiress. Her affections I'll win — Tony, tip us your fin; My hand on't, I'll cancel the debt with her tin, When together, her brown granite palace within, We set up our Penates and Lares." " Not a word more, dear Bass," said Antonio; ** the lass You shall marry if my help can bring it to pass; But I'm short of the ready, just now, by the mass! ' ^ speech is an act posterior to wiil^ itself posterior to love: this again posterior to judgment, posterior in its turn to memory., which ^ finally ^ is posterior tx> the impression. — Delsarte. I DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 123 Having largely invested in cotton. Never mind about that, though, my paper's first-class And the cash can be easily gotten." The friends then went forth and found Shylock, a Jew, Accustomed good bills and good Christians to *' do," To whom said Antonio: ''Here, Shy, you Yahoo, Advance me three thousand for three months, and you May prescribe your own terms as a lender." Quoth the Hebrew:* "I will; here's a quill; draw a bill. And in lieu of all interest (I won't take a mill. Though you've oft called me usurer, and treated me ill) Say a pound of your flesh — this is only a joke — Shall be mine, should the contract on your part be broke Ere your ninety-day note I surrender." The queer bargain was made, the three thousand was paid. And Bassanio, with young Gratiano, his aide, Went to Belmont to woo the before-mentioned maid. (Mind, by Belmont I don't mean that blandest of bankers. Who owns lots of thoroughbreds, regular spankers. But a home near Lake Como, whereat that young homo^ Bassanio, expected to play major-domo.) Arrived there, the guest to make merry was pressed. For Portia of all her beaux liked him the best; And admitted if she could but have her behest, No power under heaven should sunder 'em. * Here is offered an opportunity to insert Shylock's reply from the original. Art is only vahiable as it expresses goodness and great7iess in the soul. Ivii iation may imitate the ex^ressiofi, biit it can always be detected as imitation, and resembles truth as nearly as the cloud on a painted canvas is like one on heaven''s canopy. — Genevieve Stebbins, 124 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. But, alas! her fair self and, still worse, all her pelf Had been willed by her father, cranky old elf, - To the man who should choose, from three jars on a shelf, The reply to a certain conundrum. I'm most happy to state 'twas Bassanio's fate To guess it; and Portia, declining to wait, That night the young gentleman married. Also, '^ same time and place," fair Nerissa, her maid, Espoused Gratiano, Bassanio's aide; But not long with their dear ones they tarried. O'er the wires came a flash, their enjoyment to dash, To this purport : " Antonio all gone to smash; Can't take up that note ; not a dollar in cash. Jew angry ; protests that A.'s bosom he'll gash, Come quick, or there'll be a most awful squabash. All Antonio's ^ specs ' have miscarried." I ought to have mentioned before, by the way, That the Jew's only daughter, a frolicsome fay. Had eloped with a friend of Bassanio's, one day. Taking w^th her large sums from his cash-box. Which they say seemed almost to madness to goad him. By daughter and ducats thus given the slip. The old anti-Christian, miserly rip, Was delighted Antonio to catch on the hip, And feed fat the old grudge that he owed him. When Bassanio's bride of the telegram heard. She smiled a sad smile, and said, *^ Bassy, my bird, Though this failure has inopportunely occurred, Vou must go to your bankrupt friend's succor. +— — Time does not preserve ivhat it has cost us no time to create. — Delsakte. . -4. DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK, 125 Take six thousand — take more, take the sum ten times o'er- — What is money to me when the man I adore Has a friend in this horrible pucker !" Her beloved faltered '^ Yes," gave his darling a kiss, Gratiano did likewise to pretty Neriss, And the twain — slightly under the weather At the thought of postponing their honeymoon's bliss — Took the first train for Venice together. They had scarce turned their backs, when said Portia : " Suppose, Dear Nerissa, we follow them, under the rose, I disguised as a lawyer, and you in the clothes befitting an amanuensis. -Twas arranged, tout de suite. In black costumes com- plete. Procured ready-made, that reached down to their feet. They started next day their dear husbands to cheat — Portia paying, of course, all expenses. It was high noon in Venice, the court was assembled ; The Jew was malignant, the prisoner trembled, And Bassanio was pleading, with eyes red and w^atery. To save his friend's breast from ^' the actual cautery," When, during a pause, a young doctor of laws. Sent from Padua to try ** the great pound-of-flesh cause," Appeared on the scene and proceeded to charge (Citing cases in point and the statutes at large) That the Hebrew, though bloodthirsty, vile, and reputed A foul, heathenish dog, that deserved to be booted — Had "a clear case in law," and could not be nonsuited. A ^ // is through opposition that the smile expresses moral sad^iess . — Delaumosne. -t > 126 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, The Jew whetted his blade: ** Lo! a Daniel," he said; '* Your laws to the four winds he pitches. Antonio prepare, your old torso lay bare, For my hand to dig into it itches." But "tarry a little," the doctor replied; "Take your quota of flesh, but of life's crimson tide, If thou spillest one drop, all thy goods to the state Are by law — and thou lovest the law — confiscate. But take notice, I pray thee, thou cannibal hound, Cut, avoirdupois, to a hair's breadth, a pound. A mistake of one scruple, unscrupulous Jew (Ah! thy visage may well turn green, yellow, and blue), Will not merely thy property place at our beck. But a proper tie put round that infamous neck." " Is that so?" whimpered Shylock, his lips white with foam, "Please to pay the note thrice, then; I want to go home.'* But " No, stop!" cried the doctor; " the law hath a hold. Even now, on this usurer's ill-gotten gold. Here's an act that declares if an alien attempt A citizen's life, all his goods — naught exempt — Shall be seized on at once for the state's * privy coffer; ' So this fellow, at best, is a ducatless loafer. And his life even now lies within the duke's mercy, Who may grant it, perhaps — or, perhaps, vice versy." The upshot of all was that Shylock agreed To turn Christian — the scamp — if from punishment freed; And the court, out of pity, condemned him to deed Expiration is an element of trusty expansion^ confidence^ and tenderness. If the expression contain hath pain and love^ the inspiration and the expiration will both be noisy. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 127 All his goods to his runaway daughter! Then the doctor and clerk, with a dexterous jerk, Doffed the toggery they'd worn for professional work, And each wife, with a saucy, self-satisfied smirk. Sought the arms that delightfully caught her. Something more might I say, if I followed the play But the finishing scene is rather too ^'gay;" And as double ehtendres are not in my way, I will here, with permission, the green curtain draw On this drama of love, lucre, logic, and law. Moral. With regard to the moral, on Shylock it centres, To whom " lust of flesh " brought the worst of adven- tures; It is this — truer proverb you ne'er set your eyes on — "What is one person's meat, is another one's poison." PIANO-MUSIC. T7IRST a soft and gentle tinkle, Gentle as the rain-drop's sprinkle. Then a stop, Fingers drop. Now begins a merry trill. Like a cricket in a mill; Now a short, uneasy motion, Like a ripple on the ocean. See the fingers dance about. Hear the notes come tripping out; How they mingle in the tingle JL ^ . T Itis necessary only that there should exist a degree of individuality^ some^ thing novels a distinguishing tone, and an artistic physiognomy peculiarly \ one's own. Servile imitations, plagiarism, stupid adaptations, put to death I all art and all poetry . — h:K^K\JT>. •F 128 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. Of the everlasting jingle, Like to hailstones on a shingle, Or the ding-dong, dangle-dingle Of a sheep-bell ! Double, single, Now they come in wilder gushes. Up and down the player rushes. Quick as squirrels, sweet as thrushes. Now the keys begin to clatter Like the music of a platter When the maid is stirring batter. O'er the music comes a change, Every tone is wild and strange; Listen to the lofty tumbling, Hear the mumbling, fumbling, jumbling, Like the rumbling and the grumbling Of the thunder from its slumbering Just awaking. Now it's taking To the quaking, like a fever and-ague shaking; Heads are aching, something's breaking — Goodness gracious! it is wondrous. Rolling round, above, and under us, Like old Vulcan's stroke so thunderous. Now 'tis louder, but the powder Will be all exploded soon; For the only way to do, When the music's nearly through. Is to muster all your muscle for a bang. Striking twenty notes together with a clang: Hit the treble with a twang. Give the bass an awful w^hang. And close the whole performance With a slam— bang — whang ! ^ Inspiration should always be folloived by a suspensive silence: otherwise the I lungs ^ agitated by the act of inspiration^ per/or jti the expiration badly. — Del- SARTE. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 129 THE COBRA. Miller Hageman. ROUGHED about each other closely, measuring each glance mo- rosely, Bent a group of midnight gam- blers over cup and card and cheat; When, with countenance ap- palling, to his startled com- rades calling. One of them with ghostly whis- per gasped from out his winding-sheet: " Hush, for God*s sake, hush, I feel a cobra crawling round my feet!" And sank backward in his seat. In his lifted hand clutched tightly, as the burning lamp shone brightly, Gleamed the winning card, whose bloodspots seemed some horror to portray; But as that dread weight upon him told him death's cold hand was on him, As the lion at the hunter stares with paw upon the prey. So he stared in palsied terror at that card he dared not play. While that cobra round him lay. I The classic eras of study of generalities and of cases have passed. The ro- mantic time has gone by. Our modern age has come with its study of the I individual in expression. The so-called fine arts have had their day^ and the individual m.an already demands that the arts of mankind shall be ob- I ierved now. " The statue has become a living m an. """^ — Franklin H. Sargent. | I30 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. Back each chill spectator started as from ghost of one departed, While below that haunted table every eye was quickly cast; Where, beneath the cover hiding, round the gambler's ankles gliding, In the dark a deadly cobra was distinctly seen at last, That had coiled itself about him till at length his feet were fast. Till each comrade stood aghast. One by one they drew back gently from the wretch, whose eye intently Three characteristics may be attributed to resj>iration: vocal^ logical^ pa- thetic^ or passional, — Delsarte. DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK, 131 Followed them as they receded through the shadows of the room; For each face too plainly told him that no hand should e'er unfold him From those cold and clammy cerements, those chill cerements of the tomb. While, from underneath the table, craning up from out the gloom. Shone a deadly eye of doom. Slowly round the gambler toiling, sinuously coiling, coiling, Crept the cobra, higher, higher, up the limbs, the loins, the breast; Slowly round his body bending, all its angry hood distending At the vulgar jewels flaming on the gambler's velvet vest, Upward on its awful errand by its victim little guessed. Upward still that cobra pressed. Tightly round that arm entwining craned that lidless eyeball, shining On the red card flashing o'er it fiercely as a blood- stained brand; When, without an instant's warning, suddenly, as if in scorning For that despicable, damning deed it seemed to under- stand, See! its runs its flickering tongue out, hisses, gleets its poisoned gland Through the gambler's bleeding hand. To think of the Delsarte method as a system of gesture only^ is to think nar- \ roivly and restrictively. Expressio7i is the interior 7nind or soul manifesting itself through the exterior substance or body. The Delsarte philosophy, then^ \is an analysis of the psychic element of man as ynade from the standpoint of I manifestation.— yiosKS, True Brown. pj, — 1^ 132 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. "Fiend!'* he cried, "whence art thou, whither? who this night hath sent thee hither. Thou who standest here before me wrapt in cowl of Capuchin; Thou who thus upon me stealing, round me this dread coil art reeling? Art thou some avenging spirit, some dire bodiment of sin. Through whom Satan thus hath darkly to my lost soul entered in. This last game of life to win? "Art thou, gliding from the garden, one whom God refused to pardon. One whose poison through my pulses naught can fol- low or overtake; One whose dark temptations found me, grew up stealth- ily around me. Till at last bad habits bound me with these chains I cannot break?" Then, as mind and memory wandered, sadly to that deadly snake. Still the dying gambler spake. " 'Tis a dream; the past comes o'er me. Lo, there rises one before me From whose waving hand I wandered when life's day was in its dawn; Through the gateways of the city, cold alike to pain and pity. Smooth knaves whispered, bright jades beckoned, till their toils were round me drawn, A Inspiration is an element of dissimulation^ concentration^ pain. — Del- SARTE. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 133 Till I drank, staked, won, lost, borrowed, lost again, stole, put to pawn All I had till all was gone. " 'Tis her arm around me wreathing, 'tis — what means this hissing breathing? Comrades, help! the room swims around me; quick! my pulses reel and nod; Quick! the warning grows; Fm dying! Oh, that I this night were lying In those empty arms that loved me, on that broken heart I trod With the iron heel of scorning down into the daisied sod, O my mother! O my God !" Dimly then above the table ebbed the lamp, no longer able On that face to smile serenely as the poison played its part; While, about the gambler glancing, like dissolving col- ors dancing. On the oscillating darkness with kaleidoscopic art. Brightly flashed that lidless eyeball, javelling its drink- ing dart. Through his conscience-stricken heart. ^^F'iend!" he cried, as it grew stronger,*^! can stand that look no longer. By this pain that works within me, by this awful death so nigh. Take that lidless eyeball off me; take it off, I curse thee, scoff thee! 4- The suspension or prolongation of a movef>ie?it is 07ie of the great sources of I effect. It is in suspension that force and interest consist. A good thing is zuorth being kept insight long enough to allow an enjoyment of the view.—- Drla(jmosne. ] 134 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. Now I know thee! thou art conscience; I will never, never die With the eye of conscience on me !" Then a loud hiss made reply: "Conscience never shuts its eye.*' Black and swollen and distorted grew his face, while round him sported The fierce snake in gleaming fury, hissing at his fright- ful pain; Till, with one wild shriek, he seized it, in his stiffening death-grip squeezed it Till its ghastly eye protruded, till it swelled in every vein; Bent it, shook it, flung it from him horribly, but all in vain; Still that eye turned back again. Maddened by the deadly ichor, as the poison quick and quicker Boiled and bubbled through his pulses, tight and tight- er grew his hold; Till, for breath the cobra gasping, coil on coil around him clasping. With its gnarled and knotted muscles twisting in each writhing fold. See ! it stings itself, it blackens, till from out his grasp, behold! Red, that bloodshot eyeball rolled ! Slowly died the light around him; mute and motion- less they found him, When the deadly fray was over, sitting bolt within his chair; ^- \ T-. ^ I The articulation of the syllables la^ nio^ po^ is a useful exercise in habituat- I ing one to the medium voice. These are the musical consonants par excellence. They give charm tOy and develop the voice. We can repeat these tones %vithout fatiguing the vocal chords ^ since they are produced by the articulative appa- ratus.— f)¥.L.SAWTK, I 4. + DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 135 With the snake about him tangled, in his stiffened fin- gers strangled, Each upon the other glowering with a wild, defiant glare, Eyeball upon eyeball shining through the solemn dark- ness there. Conscience fixed upon Despair ! And with none, alas! to aid him, there they smoothed his lids and laid him With the cobra in his death-clutch down beneath the haunted heap; Where, upon his dreamless pillow, turned for him where drooped the willow. In the grave beyond the billow, that lone grave so dark, so deep, In that grave that lidless eyeball still its solemn watch doth keep. Conscience staring in its sleep. f 0"'!P| "^ ^^^ ^'^e^Pf is DEATH The expression of nature by gesture^ face ^ or voice ivill not come to the ar- tist by inspiration nor by reflection, especially in extreme situations . — Ar- NAUD. 136 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. FAITH AND WORKS. William H. Montgomery. T ITTLE Mollie and Faith, in the arbor at play, Were making a marigold crown, When a noise on the lawn made the little ones jump And scatter the gold flowers down. And, fast toward the bower of blossoms and vines, Came a quadruped, bristling and big. With sharp-pointed toes, and a queer, grunty nose, In short, 'twas a terrible pig, "Oh, mercy!" screamed Faith," where, where shall we go? Oh, mamma, oh, papa, come here! He*s going to tear us to pieces, I know," And she jumped up and down in her fear. But Mollie, more brave, raised the old crooked gate, And slammed it quite hard to its place ; Then Faith, kneeling down on the moss-covered ground. Toward the sky turned her little pale face. " Now, Mollie, Til pray to our Father in Heaven To save us and drive him away. That's the very best thing in the world to be done. You hold the gate strong while I pray'' When two limbs follow the satne direction., they cannot be si^nultaneous without violating the law of opposition. Therefore., direct movejnents should be successive^ opposite movements should be simtiltaneous. — Delsarte. 4- DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 13; Dear mamma's blue eyes twinkled bright through her tears, When the marvelous story was told Of the prayerful escape of her two little girls From the monster, so savage and bold. HOW BURLINGTON WAS SAVED. C. Mair. A STORY worth telling our annals afford, *Tis the wonderful journey of Laura Secord. Her poor crippled husband came home with the news That Boerstler was nigh ! " Not a minute to lose, Not an instant," said Laura, ^'for stoppage or pause — I must hurry and warn our brave troops at Decaw's." *^ What ! you !" said her husband, ^^ to famish and tire !" *^ Yes, I !" said brave Laura, her bosom on fire. ** And how will you pass the gruff sentry?" said he, ** Who is posted so near us ?" " Just wait till you see; The foe is approaching, and means to surprise Our troops, as you tell me. Oh, husband, there flies No dove with a message so needful as this — I'll take it, I'll bear it. Good-bye, with a kiss." Then a biscuit she ate, tucked her skirts well about. And a bucket she slung on each arm, and went out. 'Twas the bright blush of dawn when the stars melt away, Expression^ beside the description of the object^ 7nay explain the subject or interior emotion ^ and is then not iviitative^ but suggestive^ elliptic^ and mys- tic. — Franklin H. Sargent. 138 DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. Dissolved like a dream by the breath of the day; But Laura had eyes for her duty alone; She marked not the glow and the gloom that were thrown. Behind was the foe, full of craft and of guile ; Before her a long day of travel and toil. ^^ No time this for gazing," said Laura, as near To the sentry she drew. " Halt! You cannot pass here." *^ I cannot pass here! Why, sirrah, you drowse, Are you blind? Don't you see I am off to my cows?" *' Well, well, you can go." So she wended her way To the pasture's lone side, where the farthest cow lay, Got her up, then knelt down, and, with pail at her knees, Made her budge, inch by inch, till she drew by degrees To the edge of the forest. *^ I've hoaxed, on my word. Both you and the sentry," said Laura Secord. With a lingering look at her home, then away She sped through the wild wood — a wilderness gray. Where the linden had space for its fans and its flowers, The balsam its tents, and the cedar its bowers; Where the lord of the forest, the oak, had its realm, The ash its domain, and its kingdom the elm. And denser and deeper the solitude grew. The underwood thickened, and drenched her with dew. She tripped over moss-covered logs, fell, arose. Sped, and stumbled again by the hour, till her clothes Every agreeable or disagreeable sight makes the body react backward. The degree of reaction should be in proportion to the degree of interest catcsed by the sight of the object. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK 139 Were rent by the branches and thorns, and her feet Grew tender and way-worn and blistered with heat. She stopped — it was noonday. The wilds she espied Seemed solitudes measureless. ^^ Help me!" she cried; Her piteous lips parched with thirst, and her eyes Strained with gazing. The sun in his infinite skies Looked down on no creature more hapless than she. One moment she faltered. Beware ! What is this? The coil of the serpent ! the rattlesnake's hiss! One moment, then onward. What sounds far and near? The howl of the wolf, yet she turned not in fear. She toiled to the highway, then over the hill. And down the deep valley, and past the old mill. And through the next woods, till, at sunset, she came To the first British picket, and murmured her name; Thence, guarded by Indians, footsore and pale, She was led to Fitzgibbon, and told him her tale. For a moment her reason forsook her; she raved, She laughed, and she cried — " They are saved, they are saved !" Then her senses returned, and, with thanks loud and deep Sounding sweetly around her, she sank into sleep. And Bcerstler came up, but his movements were known. His force was surrounded, his scheme was o'erthrown By a woman's devotion; on stone be it engraved. The foeman was beaten, and Burlington saved. The opposition of the agents ts the harmony of gesture. Harmony is born of contrasts. From opposition., equilibrium, is born in turn. Equilibrium, is the great laiv of gesture, and condemns parallelism. — Delaumosne. I40 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. THE ROMAUNT OF THE PAGE. Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Arranged by Elsie M. Wilbor. A KNIGHT of gallant deeds -^"^ And a young page at his side, From the holy war in Palestine Did slow and thoughtful ride, As each were a palmer, and told for beads The dews of the eventide. " O young page,'' said the knight, "A noble page art thou! Thou fearest not to steep in blood The curls upon thy brow; And once in the tent, and twice in the fight, Didst ward me a mortal blow." " O brave knight," said the page, " Or ere we hither came. We talked in tent, we talked in field, Of the bloody battle game; But here, below this greenwood bough I cannot speakthe same." " Sir page, I pray your grace! Certes, I meant not so To cross your pastoral mood, sir page, With the crook of the battle-bow. But a knight may speak of a lady's face, I ween, in any mood or place. If the grasses die or grow. Flajne contains the warmth of life and the light of the mind. As the soul contains and unites the life and the mind^ so the flame warms and shines.— Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 141 " And this, I meant to say, — My lady's face shall shine As ladies' faces use, to greet My page from Palestine: Or speak she fair, or prank she gay, She is no lady of mine. " And this I meant to fear, — Her bower may suit thee ill! For, sooth, in that same field and tent, Thy talk was somewhat still; And fitter thy hand for thy knightly spear, Than thy tongue for my lady's will." Slowly and thankfully The young page bowed his head; His large eyes seemed to muse a smile, Until he blushed instead; And no lady in her bower, pardie, Could blush more sudden red — ** Sir knight, thy lady's bower to me. Is suited well," he said. " A boon, thou noble knight. If ever I served thee! Though thou art a knight and I am a page, Now grant a boon to me — And tell me, sooth, if dark or bright, If little loved or loved aright. Be the face of thy ladye." Gloomily looked the knight: ^^ As a son thou hast served me: A slight change of thought may alter the expression of the face ^ hut the at- titude should be held until a new impression is to be expressed, — Genevieve Stebbins. 142 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. And would to none I had granted boon, Except to only thee! For, haply, then I should love aright, For then I should know if dark or bright Were the face of my ladye. ** Earl Walter was a brave old earl. He was my father's friend; And while I rode the lists at court And little guessed the end, My noble father in his shroud. Against a slanderer lying loud, He rose up to defend. " I would my hand had fought that fight And justified my father! I would my heart had caught that wound And slept beside him rather! I think it were a better thing Than murthered friend and marriage-ring Forced on my life together. ^* Wail shook Earl Walter's house — His true wife shed no tear — She lay upon her bed as mute As the earl did on his bier; Till — * Ride, ride fast,' she said at last, * And bring the avenged son near! Ride fast — ride free, as a dart can flee, For white of blee with waiting for me Is the corse of the next chambere.' Pathetic ej^ects are nine in number^ the principal of ivhich are as follows: I I the smothered tone, the ragged tone; the vibrant tone; the veiled tone; the flat \ or compressed tone. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 143 " I came — I knelt beside her bed — Her calm was worse than strife: * My husband, for thy father dear, Gave freely, when thou wert not here, His own and eke my life. A boon! Of that sweet child we make An orphan for thy father's sake, Make thou for our's a wife.' ^^ I said: ^ My steed neighs in the court. My bark rocks on the brine; And the warrior's vow I am under now To free the pilgrim's shrine; But fetch the ring and fetch the priest And call that daughter of thine; And rule she wide from my castle on Nyde While I am in Palestine.' "In the dark chambere, if the bride was fair. Ye wis, I could not see; But the steed thrice neighed, and the priest fast prayed And wedded fast were we. Her mother smiled upon her bed. As at its side we knelt to wed; And the bride rose from her knee And kissed the smile of her mother dead. Or ever she kissed me. i ** My page, my page, what grieves thee so, That the tears run down thy face?" " Alas, like mine own sister Was thy lady's case! •I— ^ I True grace in adults is not that which zs studied, nor that which is artisii- I cally^ copied from a badly-chosen type. Grace is born of itself., the natural fruit of the culture of the mind., of elevated thoughts and noble sentiments, — I Arnaud. J 144 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. But she laid down the silks she wore And followed him she wed before, Disguised as his true servitor, To the very battle-place.'* And wept the page, but laughed the knight, A careless laugh laughed he: "Well done it were for thy sister, But not for my ladye! My love, so please you, shall requite No woman, whether dark or bright, Unwomaned if she be." The page stopped weeping, he smiled no more, But passionately he spake: " Oh, womanly she prayed in tent. When none beside did wake! Oh, womanly she paled in fight, , For one beloved's sake! And her little hand defiled with blood. Her tender tears of womanhood Most woman-pure did make!'* " Well done it were for thy sister; Thou tellest well her tale! But for my lady, she shall pray r the kirk of Nydesdale. Not dread for me but love for me Shall make my lady pale. No casque shall hide her woman's tear — It shall have room to trickle clear Behind her woman's veil." ^ ^ ITke chest is a passive agent; it should furnish nothing but the breath. The „,.....,...„......,..„^,....-......,.. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 145 " But what if she mistook thy mind And followed thee to strife; Then, kneeling, did entreat thy love, As Paynims ask for life?" " I would forgive, and evermore Would love her as my servitor, But little as my wife. *' Look up — there is a small bright cloud Alone amid the skies! So high, so pure, and so apart, A woman's honor lies." The page looked up — the cloud was sheen— A sadder cloud did rush, I ween. Betwixt it and his eyes. Then dimly dropped his eyes away From welkin unto hill — Ha! who rides there? — the page is 'ware. Though the cry at his heart is still! And the page seeth all and the knight seeth none Though banner and spear do fleck the sun, And the Saracens ride at will. He speaketh calm, he speaketh low: " Ride fast, my master, ride. Or ere within the broadening dark The narrow shadows hide!" "Yea, fast, my page; I will do so; And keep thou at my side." *^ Now nay, now nay, ride on thy way, Thy faithful page precede! He only is a great orator who can utter reason without passion, — Moses True Brown. 146 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. For I must loose on saddle bow My battle-casque that galls, I trow, The shoulder of my steed; Ere night I shall be near to thee, Now ride, my master, ride!" Had the knight looked up in the page's face, I ween he had never gone; Had the knight looked back to the page's geste, I ween he had turned anon. For dread was the woe in the face so young; And wild was the silent geste that flung Casque, sword, to earth, as the boy downsprung, And stood — alone, alone! He clinched his hands as if to hold His soul's great agony; " Have I renounced my womanhood, For wifehood unto thee? And is this the last, last look of thine That ever I shall see? " Yet God thee save, and may'st, thou have A lady to thy mind; More woman proud and half as true As one thou leav'st behind! And God me take with Him to dwell — ■ For Him I cannot love too well, As I have loved my kind." The tramp of hoof, the flash of steel — The Paynims round her coming! 4*^- -. I Persuade yourself that there are blind men and deaf^ inefi in your audience whom you vtust jnove^ interest ^ and persuade. Your inflection must become \ pantomime to the blind., and your pantomime., inflection to the deaf. — Del- I SARTE. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 147 The sound and sight have made her calm, False page, but truthful woman! She stands amid them all unmoved; The heart once broken by the loved Is strong to meet the foeman. " Ho, Christian page! art keeping sheep, From pouring wine cups resting?" " I keep my master's noble name For warring, not for feasting; And if that here Sir Hubert were, My master brave, my master dear, Ye would not stay to question." "Where is thy master, scornful page. That we may slay or bind him?" " Now search the lea and search the wood, And see if ye can find him! Nathless, as hath been often tried. Your Paynim heroes faster ride, Before him than behind him." "Give smoother answers, lying page. Or perish in the lying." " I trow that if the warrior brand Beside my foot, were in my hand, 'Twere better at replying." They cursed her deep, they smote her low, They cleft her golden ringlets through: The loving is the dying. ^ Feeling^ thought ^ and affection are the three forms or acts of bein^. Feeling springs front a sensitive principle of beitig: thought front a reflective: love front an aff^ective. From the sensitive principle' of being flow passional emo- tions: froTH the reflective principle of being flow rational ejnotions: from the affective principle of being flow moral or volitional emotions. — Steele Mackaye. ^ ^ ^ 148 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. SUE AN' ME. David Belasco. '' T TGH, ugh! Fm awful sick, mister, I am. Jus' got ^ out ter-day, an' I kin hardly talk. I hopes I won't ketch the fever, I do," spoke a ragged little urchin with trembling voice and tearful eyes, on a bitter cold, snowy night. " 'Tain't no use o' yer talkin', mister; I ain't a-goin' ter part with Sue/' continued he, pointing to a sickly-look- ing child fast asleep on the curbstone. ^^ I'd like ter know what I'd do without her, I v^ould. " I never had no father nor mother, as I knows of; an' as for Sue, her'n is dead an' buried as them as 'as no friends nor money are put away. We ain't got nobody in the world but our- selves — but we does werry well as we is. We don't want nare a body, Sue an' me. She ain't my sister, but she's jus' as good as one. Her own mother give her ter me, when she were only a little thing, so high. I lived along with old Jacob Prue, then, an' Sue an' her mother lived in the room above our'n. Sue an' me we used to play together, an' I cared more for her than anythink else in the v/orld. By an' by Jacob Prue got sent ter prison for breakin' open a shop; an' Sue's mother she let me live in her room, an' give me vittals — when she had any. We wuz just as happy as cherrybyns, was Sue an' me an' her mother till the fever come. The people in our alley died awful, an' Sue's mother wuz tuk. We had the doctor from the hospital — but she didn't get no bet- ter; an' one night \yhen I came in, she called me, an' she sez ^ Bill, I'm a-goin';' * Where?' sez I, for I thought Hh ^ ^ — 4- Any interrogation tnade with crossed arms must partake of the character of a threat. — Delsarte. DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. 149 she wuz a-talkin* some of the mad rubbidge she used ter when the fever was strong; but she wuzn't — she wuz sensible as you; an' she tells me agin: ^ Bill, I'm a-goin'.' "I didn't ask her wh^re then. I knowed she wuz goin' ter die, an' I put my head on the piller an' cried fur the fust time since she wuz tuk; an' Sue cried too; an' we wuz a miserable lot of us in that ere attic. Arter a bit I wuz quiet. I picked out my bes' bit o' bread an' meat, an' tried ter feed her — but it wuzn't of no good, mister; she was a-goin' with the fever. So she sez, with a smile ter kinder make me feel better, * It ain't no use. Bill, I'm a-goin' fast.' Then she tuk my hand, an' said, solemn-like: * Bill, promise when I'm dead as you'll look arter Sue; she ain't got no friend in the world but her poor, dyin' mother an' you.' *I will,' sez I; ^ I'll stick ter Sue like bricks an' mortar.' * Bill,' she went on, ' you won't let her steal?' * Never,' sez I; * I'll look arter her as good as you do, I will.' She wuz a bit pleased at that, an' we wuz all quiet. It wuz gittin' darkish an' her face looked whiter an' whiter; an' Sue had gone to sleep, jus' as you see her now, an' I an' her mother wuz awake, waitin' like for the end of it. All of a suddint she called out an' tuk my hand. *^ * Bill,' sez she, * kneel an' say '' Our Father." ' " I didn't know what she meant, but I got on my knees alongside o' her, an' looked up to where she wuz a-pointin' ter a star through the winder, an' I kep' on a-sayin' it — * Our Father, Our Father, Our Father,' an' a-wonderin* all the time where He wuz; an' when I looked roun' she wuz gone. Nex* mornin' she wuz tuk away, an' little Sue an' me we's ben together ever since. Ah! the the- ayter's out; I mus' be a-goin*. See, Sue's wakin' up — 4- . I . - . . Not things themselves^ but the principles that are their essence^ should be the grand study. — Franklin H. Sargent. 150 DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. she dreamed las' night she wuz a-eatin' beefsteak an' gravy with lots of brown injins, an' I hopes ter make it real ter-night. Good-bye, mister ; I'm werry much obliged; but it would be worser'n than the fever ter part Sue an' me." THE DISCUSSION. Translated and Adapted from the French. Dramatis Personce : \ Smith. Jones. Scene : A parlor. [The words in brackets are not to be spoken. They simply give the idea that is in Jones's mind, and that the tone of his voice is supposed to convey. Very taking when well done, and an excellent study in panto- mime. — Editor.] ^MITH [^entering, followed by Jones]. Well! even then! Besides, what would you do? ]o^¥.'$> [shaking his head significantly]. Hm! hm! hm! Smith. Unless . . . Oh! then it would be quite differ- ent. Just think! Jones. Hm! hm! Smith. Then you don't think any arrangements could be made. It would be useless to try, wouldn't it? Jones. Hm! hm! hm! [I think so.] Smith. On the other hand, I think it would be better, don't you? Jones. Hm! hm! [Maybe.] Smith. To tell the truth, I don't really care; I am Perhaps the best gesture is that ivhick is the least apparent. — Delsarte.. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 151 only interested in the matter on his account. What I am afraid of is what people might say about it. Jones. Hm ! [ That is so?[ Smith. People are so unkind. And then it is such a delicate matter. The newspapers will soon make a scandal out of it! Jones. Hm! hm! hm! \_Yes^ a great scandal?^ Smith. The report should have been denied from the start; now it is too late. Jones. Hm! \You are right,'\ Smith. Attempt a reconciliation? He would never consent to that; and, besides, it would be impossible. But wait — no, that wouldn't do. What do you think? Jones. Hm! hm! [// is hard to say.] Smith. I cannot tell which would be better. I don't know what to say! Let things take their course? What is your opinion? Jones. Hm! hm! hm! hm! \_I should not dare say.] Smith. You don't dare give an opinion? I know it is hard. Jones. Hm! hm! hm! \^Yes, ve7y hard.] Smith. What would be the result? Come to think of it, there are no reasons for . . . To be sure. . . but then . . . We would have to . . . only! — There is no denying it, it is incomprehensible. Jones. Hm! hm! hmhm! [^Incomprehensible.] Smith. For my part, I don't know what to say. I give it up. What ought he to say? Jones. Hm! hm! [That is something I must consider.] Smith. How ought he to act? Should he be coldly indifferent or exceedingly angry? But one gesture is needed for the expression of an entire thought: since it is not the word but the thought that the gesture vtust announce: if it expressed only the ivord^ it would be trivial and mean^ and also prejudicial to the eff^ect of the phrase. — Delaumosne. 152 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. Jones. Hm! hm! hm! hm! \N either the one nor the other ^ Smith. I know him better than any one. Disagreeable disposition. Not bearing malice, but cross, irritable. Jones. Hm! hm! \^Don't^he too hard 07i him^ Smith. Yes, he is irritable. I shall leave him alone. I do not approve of the course he has taken. Poor boy! Jones. Hm! hm! hm! hm! [/ don't think he was altogether wrong ^ Smith. You seem to think just the contrary. How- ever, it cannot but give him a bad name. At any rate, it is nobody's fault but his own. Jones. Hm ! [ That is so?\ Smith. Ah! at last you are obliged to give in. After all, he is a good fellow. Jones. Hmhmhm! hmhm! [/ do not agree with you there?[ Smith. Yes, I assure you. Things have been said about him, but they are false. Jones. Hm! hm! \^I doubt it. ^ Smith. They are false, I tell you. But we haven't come to any point. Don't you think we are launched upon a rather disagreeable affair? Do you see a way out of it? Jones. Hmhmhm! \I am not sure that I do ^ Smith. There is none, is there? The simplest thing, I should say, is to do nothing at all about it. Jones. Hm! hmhmhm! \_I guess you are right there. ^ Smith. Come, let's go out; we can talk it over more freely in the street. [ Takes Jones's arm and both go out.'\ If you would move others^ p7it your heart in the place of your larynx: let I your voice become a mysterious hand to caress the /t^^^tr^r.— Delsarte. DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. 153 CONVERSATIONAL. >^T_T OW'S your father ?" Came the whisper, Bashful Ned the silence breaking; ** Oh, he's nicely," Annie murmured, Smilingly the question taking. Conversation flagged a moment. Hopeless, Ned essayed another: *^ Annie, I — I," then a coughing, And the question, ** How's your mother?" "Mother? Gh, she's doing nicely!" Fleeting fast was all forbearance. When in low, despairing accents Came the climax, " How's your parents?" THE .LOW-BACKED CAR. Samuel Lover. T^T^HEN first I saw sweet Peggy, 'Twas on a market-day. A low-backed car she drove, and sat - Upon a truss of hay; But when that hay was blooming grass, And decked with flowers of spring. No flower was there, that could compare To the blooming girl I sing! ly the voice is the soul of the draina^ facial expression R. Alger. '" \ 154 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. Music to '•''The Low-hacked Car.^^ Lively y but not too fast. 9' L^ *1 — - 1 "1 "1 1 =4-n— =ij ^1 J\ "1 ^"1*1 ^ =^=n i ^^^ »r-N- ^ f g # ^-^ S S fe s PP^^^pp^^ :^= i ^^^ T^ =^=^^ ^^1 T1 *1 ^l-=1- -=W- •n-n- ^ -i/ d ^^ ^i^ :^--^ fcja ^=Tpto 3 ^^^f=f=! -tj> i-^ V*^ i • n *i j— 1 "1 1 1 *i n "1 1 ifc^ ^ te p rr~" "f — 1*^ =^=1^ .fzzz:fz_ ^^^ ? 1 s- -t 1 1 : g=zM=g=^=g5; 9i 14= -=l- X 1 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 155 Music to '''•The Low-backed CarJ'^ ^^ — *_ -J » — « « — ii icii: ^ v-v i rn — ^1 — \- *=4 SI ^^ r :t y 1 X— =1- i ? ^. n > i i^K' ^-^r ^T% i I ^T -^ # J fej ^j^ ^gg s ^^-T ppJ^ :*— -5-3— ?— 5 -^ — ^- p^'=?=>=?^ :i: :^=^ g^=^^^ "1 "1 rail. tempo. jg-rC^ zi^ i i ^ PP i ^i -=1 — =1- -^ 51- colla voce. colla V0ee, I S ^ N -^ — =1- m 156 DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK, As she sat in her low-backed car, The man at the turnpike bar, Never asked for the toll, But just rubbed his auld poll, - And looked after thetow-backed car! In battle's wild commotion, The proud and mighty Mars, With hostile scythes demands his tythes Of death, in warlike cars! But Peggy, peaceful goddess. Has darts in her bright eye. That knock men down in the market-town, As right and left they fly! While she sits in her low-backed car, -Than battle more dangerous far, For the doctor's art cannot cure the heart That is hit from the low-backed car! Sweet Peggy round her car, sir! Has strings of ducks and geese, But the scores of hearts she slaughters. By far outnumber these; While she among her poultry sits. Just like a turtle-dove. Well worth the cage, I do engage. Of the blooming god of love! While she sits in her low-backed car. The lovers come near and far. And envy the chicken that Peggy is pickin'. While she sits in her low-backed car! Nothing is more deplorable than a gesture without a mot iz^e.— Dels artk. . DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 157 rd rather own that car, sir, With Peggy by my side, Than a coach and four, and gold galore, And a lady for my bride; For the lady would sit forninst me, On a cushion made with taste, — While Peggy would be beside me. With my arm around her waist. As we drove in the low-backed car, To be married by Father Maher; Oh, my heart would beat high, at her glance and her sigh, Tho' it beat in a low-backed car! COUNT GISMOND. Robert Browning. [The following incident in her life is told by the wife of Count Gis- mond to a friend, while the count is not present. His sudden entrance and the quick, graceful change of conversation which the wife makes as she sees him, that he may not be pained by recalling unpleasant events, affords opportunity for the reciter's tact in the closing stanza. The selection is very effective when the reciter seats herself with appar- ent unconsciousness of the act during the second stanza, rising at the words " Gismond here," in the last stanza. — Editor.] /^^HRIST GOD who savest man, save most ^^ Of men Count Gismond who saved me! Count Gauthier, when he chose his post. Chose time and place and company To suit it; when he struck at length My honor, 'twas with all his strength. Gesture is a running commentary on the words. It should not be used m.erely for emphasis^ but to explain and color the meaning. — Genevieve Stebbins. 158 DLESARTE RECITATION BOOK, And doubtlessly, ere he could draw All points to one, he must have schemed! That miserable morning saw- Few half so happy as I seemed. While being dressed in queen's array To give our tourney prize away. I thought they loved me, did me grace To please themselves: 'twas all their deed. God makes, or fair or foul, our face. If showing mine so caused to bleed My cousins' hearts, they should have dropped A word and straight the play had stopped. But no: they let me laugh, and sing My birthday song quite through, adjust The last rose in my garland, fling A last look on the mirror, trust My arms to each an arm of theirs. And so descend the castle-stairs — And come out on the morning troop Of merry friends who kissed my cheek, And called me queen, and made me stoop Under the canopy — (a streak That pierced it, of the outside sun. Powdered with gold its gloom's soft dun) — And they could let me take my state And foolish throne amid applause Of all come there to celebrate To use expression at random on our own authority^ expression at all haz ards. is absurd. — Delsarte. X DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. 159 My queen's-day — oh, I think the cause Of much was, they forgot no crowd Makes up for parents in their shroud! However that be, all eyes were bent Upon me, when my cousins cast Theirs down; 'twas time I should present The victor's crown, but . . . there, 'twill last No long time . . . the old mist again Blinds me as then it did. How vain! See! Gismond's at the gate, in talk With his two boys: I can proceed. Well, at that moment, who should stalk Forth boldly — to my face, indeed — But Gauthier? and he thundered "Stay!" And all stayed. " Bring no crowns, I say! " Bring torches! Wind the penance-sheet About her! Let her cleave to right, Or lay herself before our feet! Shall she, who sinned w^ith me at night, Unblushingly, queen it in the day? For honor's sake no crowns, I say!" I ? What I answered ? As I live, I never fancied such a thing As answer possible to give. What says the body when they spring Some monstrous torture-engine's whole Strength on it? No more says the soul. Gestures are pantomimic verbs^ and always i^nply an action. Attitudes are pantomimic adverbs., and qualify gestures or actions. — Steele Mackaye. i6o DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, Till out strode Gismond: then I knew That I was saved. I never met His face before; but, at first view, I felt quite sure that God had set Himself to Satan: who would spend A minute's mistrust on the end ? He strode to Gauthier, in his throat Gave him the lie, then struck his mouth With one back-handed blow that wrote In blood men's verdict then. North, south, East, west, I looked. The lie was dead And damned, and truth stood up instead. This glads me most, that I enjoyed The heart o' the joy, with my content In watching Gismond, unalloyed By any doubt of the event; God took that on Him — I was bid Watch Gismond for my part: I did. And e'en before the trumpet's sound Was finished, prone lay the false knight, Prone as his lie, upon the ground: Gismond flew at him, used no slight O' the sword, but, open-breasted, drove. Cleaving till out the truth he clove. Which done, he dragged him to my feet. And said, " Here die, but end thy breath In full confession, lest thou fleet Art is not an imitation of nature; art is better than nature. It is nature illuminated. — Delsarte. DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. i6l From my first to God's second death! Say, hast thou lied ?" And, "' I have lied To God and her," he said, and died. Then Gismond kneeling to me asked — What safe my heart holds, though no word Could I repeat now, if I tasked My powers forever, to a third. Dear even as you are. Pass the rest Until I sank upon his breast. Over my head his arm he flung Against the world; and scarce I felt His sword (that dripped by me and swung) A little shifted in its belt, For he began to say the while How south our home lay many a mile. So 'mid the shouting multitude We two walked forth to never more Return. My cousins have pursued Their lives, untroubled as before I vexed them. Gauthier's dwelling-place God lighten! May his soul find grace! Our elder boy has got the clear Great brow; though when his brother's black Full eye shows scorn, it . . . Gismond here ? And have you brought my tercel back ? 'I was just telling Adela How many birds it struck since May. A man who -menaces with the head is not sure of his aim^ but he who men- aces with the hand is sure of striking right. — Delaumosne. l62 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. THE TRUMPETER'S BE- TROTHED. Translated by Lucy H. Hooper. TV/T Y lord, the Duke of Brittany, For wars in which his soul delights, Has called from Nantes to far Montagne, On the mount and in the plain. All the bravest of his knights. There are barons whose proud flags Wave their moated keeps above; Valiant sires in arms grown old, Warriors in ranks untold — One of them's the man I love! He has gone to Aquitaine As a trumpeter, and yet You would take him for a knight, With his garb all gold bedight. And his head so proudly set. Joining unto mine his fate, I have prayed my patron saint: "Make his guardian angel keep Watch the while he wake or sleep. For with fear my heart grows faint.'* I have said to our good priest, " Father, for our soldiers pray!" Then at holy Gildas' shrine Three wax tapers fair and fine, I have lighted yesterday. There are two kinds of loud voices: the vocally loud^ which is the 7>ulgar I voice; and the dynamically loud^ which is the powerful voice, — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 163 Homeward from the wars to-day, Comes he at his monarch's side ; He's no common lover now, I can lift my erst bowed brow. And my joy is blent with pride. Conquering the duke returns, With his war-worn flag above. For the cortege come and wait, Soon you'll see it pass the gate, And the prince, and him I love! Come and see his gallant steed, Decked in honor of the day, As it goes with stately tread, Neighing, tossing up its head. Crowned with plumes in colors gay. Sisters, why so slow to dress? Come and see my conqueror, And the trumpet, wrought in gold, Quiv'ring in his nervous hold — Ah, my gallant trumpeter! Come to see him — he himself! 'Neath the mantle rich and rare That I worked with gold and gem. Like a royal diadem He his gilded casque will wear. In yon church a gypsy hag. Calling me last night to her. Said (O saints watch over me!) By holdiftg the initial consonant^ the word is pronounced as by an explosion^ and is filled with power instead of 7nere sound. — GEyiKviKVK Stebbins. 1 64 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, " To the music's ecstasy- There will lack a trumpeter!" But I've so prayed that I hope, Though with serpent glance she said, Pointing to an open tomb: '^ There, to-morrow, mid the gloom, I shall wait thee with the dead!" Hasten! no more dismal thoughts — Hark! the rolling drums I hear! Flags and flowers fill the air. And the throngs of ladies fair In the purple tents appear. See the long procession comes! Men-at-arms with heavy tread. Then, beneath the banner's fold. Barons clad in silk and gold, Velvet-capped each haughty head Next, the Persian mail admire Of the Templars, feared of hell! Under the long partisan Come the archers from Lausanne, All in buff-coats — note them well. Here's the duke! his banner — see. In the breeze it throbs and stirs; Now the captive flags appear. Heavy-drooping, shamed and drear. Look — here come the trumpeters! * * ■ 4j ^ ^ Art should move the secret springs oflife^ convince the mind^ and persuade the heart.— DKI.SARTK. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 165 As she speaks her eager glance On the serried ranks is cast; Careless laughs the crowd around, Prone she falls upon the ground — All the trumpeters had passed! EVEN THIS SHALL PASS AWAY. /^NCE in Persia reigned a king, Who upon his signet ring Graved a maxim true and wise. Which, if held before the eyes, Gave him counsel at a glance, Fit for every change and chance. Solemn words, and these are they: *^ Even this shall pass away." Trains of camels through the sand Brought him gems from Samarcand; Fleets of galleys through the seas Brought him pearls to match with these. But he counted not his gain Treasures of the mine or main; *^ What is wealth ?" the king would say; ** Even this shall pass away." In the revels of his court At the zenith of the sport, When the palms of all his guests Adherence to vtere atithoritv^ tradition^ usage ^ or dry technicality^ is fatal to inspiration. This carried to extremes viakes the most cultivated player or speaker a mere prof essor of postures. — Rev. W. R. Alger. 4»_ _ , 4, i66 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, Burned with clapping at his jests, He, amid his figs and wine, Cried: ** Oh, loving friends of mine! Pleasure comes, but not to stay; Even this shall pass away." Fighting on a furious field. Once a javelin pierced his shield. Soldiers with a loud lament Bore him bleeding to his tent; Groaning from his tortured side, " Pain is hard to bear," he cried, *^ But, with patience, day by day — Even this shall pass away." Towering in the public square, Twenty cubits in the air. Rose his statue carved in stone. Then the king, disguised, unknown. Stood before his sculptured name. Musing meekly: "What is fame? "Fame is but a slow decay — Even this shall pass away." Struck with pals}^, sere and old, Waiting at the gates of gold. Said he, with his dying breath: " Life is done, but what is breath ?" Then in answer to the king Fell a sunbeam on his ring, Showing by a heavenly ray — " Even this shall pass away." The whining^ tearful tone is always weak. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. i6; THE PROPOSAL. Margaret Vandegrift. T_T E had been trying all the winter through To speak the fateful words; and well she knew He had been trying — but what could she do ? And just because he did adore her so, His tongue would stammer, and his voice would go. At bare idea of a possible " No." He had a friend, a learned young professor, Him he had constituted his confessor, And general moral gauger and assessor. To him were told the maiden's simple wiles. Her pretty blushes and beguiling smiles. In many words, and various moods and styles. The swain would boast him to the little maid. When he of other subjects was afraid. Of all the learning that his friend displayed. And so, one evening, when it chanced that she Was bidden to an evening company. She went, with hope this paragon to see. And he was there ; so, too, her bashful swain, Who, strangely, did not help her to attain The introduction which she hoped to gain. For he had suddenly grown sore afraid That a professor of so high a grade Would straight supplant him with his little maid. * . He only is an elocutionist who /or gets elocution. — Moses True Brown. i68 DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. She waited long, and then — most hardily For one who thought that maids should not be ^^free,"— ^^ Will you present me to your friend ?" said she. Now was his chance! Fiercely his pulses hammered, She'd surely hear his heart, so loud it clamored; " I — can't present you — you're not mine!" he stammered. " And if you were " — now, that he had begun. His courage rose — ^^ I'd keep you, dearest one!" "Always?" she murmured. "Always!" It was done! JOVITA; OR, THE CHRISTMAS GIFT. Bret Harte. Arranged by Elsie M. Wilbor. T T had been raining in the valley of the Sacramento. The North Fork had overflowed its banks and Rat- tlesnake Creek was impassable. Farther on, cut off and inaccessible, smitten by high winds and threatened by high water, Simpson's Bar, on the eve of Christmas Day, clung like a swallow's nest to the mountain, and shook in the blast. As night shut down, a few lights gleamed through the mist from the cabins on either side of the highway. Most of the population were gathered at Thompson's store, clustered around a red-hot stove, at which they silently spat in some accepted sense of so- cial communion that rendered conversation unneces- sary. The voice should be a reflection of the expression of the face. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 169 Just thePx a figure entered known to the company as •*The Old Man." ** Dismal weather, ain't it?" he said. ^^ No show for money this season, and to-morrow's Christmas. Yes, Christmas, and to-night's Christmas Eve. Ye see, boys, I kinder thought — that is, I sorter had an idee, jest passin' like, you know — that maybe ye'd all like to come over to my house to-night and have a sort of tear round. But I suppose, now, you wouldn't? Don't feel like it, maybe?" he added, anxiously, peering into the faces of his companions. Dick Bullen, the oracle and leader of the boys, arose, shook himself, and saying, ^^ I'm ready; lead the way. Old Man; here goes," with a characteristic howl darted out into the night. Their way led up Pine-Tree Canon, at the head of which a broad, low, bark-thatched cabin burrowed in the mountain-side. It was the home of the Old Man. ** P'r'aps ye'd better hold on a second out yer, whilst I go in and see thet things is all right," said the Old Man. Presently the latch clicked, and a voice said, " Come in out o' the wet." It was the voice of a small boy, in a weak treble. He had evidently just risen from his bed. ^^Come in," he repeated. "' The Old Man's in there talking to mar," he continued, pointing to an adjacent room. Entering, the men ranged themselves around a table of rough boards. Johnny then gravely proceeded to a cupboard and brought out several articles which he deposited on the table. *' Thar's whiskey. And crack- ers. And red herons. And cheese." He took a bite If the orator zvould speak to any purpose^ he must bring back his discourse to some picture fro7n nature^ to sotne scene from real life. — Delaumosne. I70 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. of the latter on his way to the table. *' And sugar." He scooped up a mouthful with a small and very dirty hand. "And terbacker. Thar's dried appils, too, on the shelf, but I don't admire 'em. Appils is swellin'. Thar," he concluded, "now wade in, and don't be afeard." He stepped to the threshold of a small room holding a small bed, and nodded. " Hello, Johnny! You ain't goin' to turn in agin, are ye?" said Dick. "Yes, I are," responded Johnny. "Why, wot's up, old fellow?" " I'm sick." " How sick?" " I've got a fevier. And childblains. And roomatiz," returned Johnny, and vanished within. After a mo- ment's pause he added, "And biles!" It was nearly midnight when the festivities were interrupted by the querulous voice of Johnny: "Oh, dad!" The Old Man arose and disappeared. Presently he reappeared " His roomatiz is comin' on agin bad," he explained, "and he wants rubbin'. You hold on all o' you for a spell, and I'll be back;" and vanished again. The door closed but imperfectly, and the following dialogue was audible: " Now, sonny, whar does she ache worst?" "Sometimes over yar and sometimes under yer; but it's most powerful from yer to yer. Rub yer, dad." A silence seemed to indicate a brisk rubbing. Then Johnny: ^~ Art is a regenerating or delighting power . — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 171 " Hevin' a good time out yer, dad?" " Yes, sonny." " To-morrer's Chrismiss, ain't it?" "Yes, sonny. How does she feel now?" "Better. Rub a little furder down. Wot's Chris- miss, anyway? Wot's it all about?" " Oh, it's a day." This exhaustive definition was apparently satisfac- tory, for there was a silent interval. Presently Johnny again: " Mar sez that everywhere else but yer everybody gives things to everybody Chrismiss. She sez thar's a a man they call Sandy Claws, not a white man, you know, but a kind o' Chinemin, comes down the chim- bley night afore Chrismiss and give things to childern, — boys like me. Puts 'em in their butes! Thet's what she tried to play on me. Easy now, pop, whar are you rubbin' to, thet's a mile from the place. She jest made thet up, didn't she, jest to aggrewate me and you ? Don't rub than It's mighty cur'o's about Chrismiss, ain't it ? Why do they call it Chrismiss ?" The Old Man's reply was so low as to be inaudible beyond the room. " Yes," said Johnny, " I've heerd o' hivi before. Thar, that'll do, dad. I don't ache near so bad as I did. Now wrap me tight in this yer blanket. So. Now, sit down yer by me till I go asleep," and to assure himself of obedience, he grasped his father's sleeve. For some minutes the Old Man waited patiently. Then the stillness excited his curiosity, and, without moving from the bed, he cautiously opened the door and looked into the main room. It was dark and de- The most precious relish of conversation^ and the divinest charm of 7nan- ners, is the living play of the spirit in the features^ and the spontaneous modu- lation of the form, by the passing experience. — Rev, W. R. Alger. . , __^ 172 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, serted; but a smouldering log on the hearth broke, and by the blaze he saw Dick Bullen. "Hello!" Dick started. " Whar's the boys?" said the Old Man. "Gone up the canon. They're comin' back for me in a minit. Now don't you git up," as the Old Man made a movement to release his sleeve from Johnny's hand. " Don't you mind manners. Sit jest whar you be; Fm goin' in a jiffy. Thar, that's them now." There was a low tap at the door. Dick opened it quickly, nodded " good-night " to his host, and disap- peared. The Old Man would have followed him but for the hand that unconsciously grasped his sleeve. He could have easily disengaged it: it was small, weak, and emaciated. But perhaps because it was small, weak, and emaciated, he changed his mind, and, drawing his chair closer to the bed, rested his head upon it. The room faded before his eyes, went out and left him asleep. Meantime Dick Bullen confronted his companions. "Are you ready?" said one. " Ready," said Dick; " what's the time ?" " Past twelve," was the reply. " Can you make it ? It's nigh on fifty miles, the round trip hither and yon." " I reckon," returned Dick. " Whar's the mare ?" " Bill and Jack's holdin' her at the crossin'." " Let 'em hold her a minit longer." Dick re-entered the house softly. The door of the little room was open. The Old Man had fallen back in his chair, snoring. Beside him, on a narrow bedstead. Art is at once the knowledge^ the possessiofi, and the free direction of the I agents^ by virtue of which are revealed the life^ soul^ and mind. It is the appropriation of the sign to the thing. It is the relation of the beauties scat- tered through nature to a superior type. It is not., therefore., the mere imita- tion of natzire. — Delsarte. I 4, ^ DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. 173 lay Johnny. Dick hesitated. Everything was quiet. He suddenly parted his huge mustache with both hands and stooped over the sleeping boy, then fled in bashful terror. His companions were waiting for him. Two of them were struggling with a strange bulk, which took the semblance of a great yellow horse. It was the mare. She was not a pretty picture. From her Roman nose to her rising haunch, from her arched spine hidden by a stiff Mexican saddle to her thick, straight, bony legs, there was not a line of equine grace. In her half-blind but wholly vicious white eyes, in her protruding under- lip, in her color, there was nothing but ugliness and vice. " Now, then," said one, " stand cl'ar of her heels, boys and up with you. Don't miss your first holt of her mane and mind ye get your off stirrup quick. Ready!" There was a leap, a scrambling struggle, a bound, a wild retreat of the crowd, a circle of flying hoofs, two leaps that jarred the earth, a jingle of spurs, a plunge, and then the voice of Dick somewhere in the darkness, ^^All right!" ** Don't take the lower road back onless you're hard pushed for time! Don't hold her in down hill! We'll be at the ford at five. G'lang! Hoopa! Go!" A splash, a spark struck from the ledge in the road, a clatter, and Dick was gone. One o'clock came, and Dick had only gained Rattle- snake Hill. In that time Jovita had practiced all her vices. Thrice had she stumbled. Twice had she struck out madly across country. Twice had she reared and fallen backward, and twice had Dick, unharmed, re- The first or impressional stage of art is, educationally speaking, the culti- vation of the senses, and the pozvers of observation. In pantom imic art it con- sists of the training of the apparatus of the body to the finest possible response to, and freest passage for the sensations accepted. — Franklin H. Sargent. . : -^ 174 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. gained his seat. A mile beyond, at the foot of a long hill, was Rattlesnake Creek. Dick knew that here was the crucial test. Jovita began the descent of the hill. As Dick expected, the momentum she had ac- quired carried her beyond the point of balking, and, holding her well together for a leap, they dashed into the middle of the swiftly-flowing current. A few mo- ments of kicking, wading, and swimming, and Dick drew a long breath on the opposite bank. By two o'clock he had begun the descent to the plain. At half- past two he rose in his stirrups with a shout. Beyond him rose two spires, a flagstaff, and a line of black ob- jects. He jingled his spurs, and in another moment swept into the village. After Jovita had been handed over to a sleepy ostler, whom she at once kicked into unpleasant consciousness, Dick sallied out. He stopped before several shops, and by persistent tapping roused the proprietors and made them unbar the doors. It was three o'clock before this pleasantry was over, and, with a small water-proof bag strapped on his shoulders, Dick dashed down the lonely street into the plain. The storm had cleared away, but it was half-past four before Dick reached the crossing, and half an hour later when he came to the long level that led to Rattlesnake Creek. Suddenly Jovita shied. Hanging to her rein was a figure that had leaped from the bank, and from the road arose a shadowy horse and rider " Throw up your hands," commanded this apparition. Dick felt the mare tremble, quiver, and apparently sink under him. Then she rose in the air with a terrific Bad actors exert themselves in vain to be vtoved and to ^nove spectators. On the other hand^ true artists never let their gestures reveal more than a tenth part of the secret emotion that they apparently feel^ and ivould hide from the audience to spare their sensibilities. Thus they succeed in stirring all spectators. — Delsarte. Hh — ■ * DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK, 175 bound, throwing the figure from her bit with a single shake of her vicious head, and charged on the horse- man. An oath, a pistol-shot, and the next moment Jovita was a hundred yards away. But the good right arm of her rider, shattered by a bullet, dropped help- lessly at his side. Without slacking his speed Dick shifted the reins to his left hand. He had no fear of pursuit, but looking up he saw that day was upon him. Absorbed in a sin- gle idea, he forgot his wound, and dashed on. But the creek he had swam a few hours before had risen, more than doubled its volume, and now rolled a swift river. For the first time that night his heart sank. But the little room and the figures of the sleeping father and son rose before him. He cast off his coat, pistol, boots, and saddle, bound his precious pack to his shoulders, grasped the bare flanks of Jovita with his bared knees, and with a shout dashed into the water. A cry rose from the opposite bank as the heads of a man and horse strug- gled up the bank. The Old Man started and woke. Somebody was rap- ping at the door. He opened it, but fell back with a cry before the dripping, half-naked figure that reeled against the doorpost. ^^Dick!" ** Hush! Is he awake yet?" ^^ No— but, Dick!" '^Keep still." He staggered, caught at the handle of the door, and motioned to the Old Man. " Thar's suthin' in my pack yer for Johnny. Take it off. I can't." The Old Man unstrapped the pack and laid it before the exhausted man. Expression in nature is spontaneous; it is the result of an unconscious proc- ess in the man a3»a creature. Expression in art is deliberate^ and there is a conscious command of natural resources in the 7nan as a creative being. — Steele. Mackaye. 176 DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK, " Open it, quick!" It contained only a few poor toys — cheap and bar- baric enough, goodness knows, but bright with paint and tinsel. One of them was broken, another was ruined by water, and on the third there was a spot. *^ It don't look like much, that's a fact," said Dick, ruefully. *^ But it's the best we could do. Take 'em, Old Man, and put 'em in his stocking, and tell him — tell him, you know — hold me. Old Man — " The Old Man caught his sinking figure. ^^ Tell him," said Dick, with a weak little laugh, ** tell him Sandy Claus has come," and fell fainting on the threshold. THE SCHOOL-MA'AM'S COURTING. Florence E. Pyatt. TITHEN MARY ANN DOLLINGER got the skule ^ ^ daown thar on Injun Bay I was glad, fer I like ter see a gal m.akin' her honest way. I heerd some talk in the village abaout her flyin* high, Tew high fer busy farmer folks with chores ter dew ter fly. But I paid no sorter attention ter all the talk ontell She come in her reg'lar boardin' raound ter visit with us a spell. My Jake an' her had been cronies ever since they could walk. r Accent is the modulation 0/ the soul. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 177 An' it tuk me aback ter hear her kerrectin' him in his talk. Jake ain't no hand at grammar, though he hain't his beat for work; But I sez ter myself, '' Look out, my gal, yer a-foolin' with a Turk!" Jake bore it wonderful patient, an' said in a mournful way, He p'sumed he was behindhand with the doin's at Injun Bay. I remember once he was askin' for some o' my Injun buns, An' she said he should alius say, " them air," stid o' ** them is" the ones. Wal, Mary Ann kep' at him stiddy mornin' an' evenin' long, Tell he dassent open his mouth for fear o' talkin' wrong. One day I was pickin' currants daown by the old quince tree, When I heerd Jake's voice a-sayin': ^' Be ye willin' ter marry me?" An' Mary Ann kerrectin', *^ ^Air ye willin', yeou sh'd say." Our Jake he put his foot daown in a plum, decided way, ** No wimmen-folks is a-goin' ter be re-arrangin' me. Hereafter I says ^ craps,' * them is,' ^ I calk'late,' an' * I be.' Ef folks don't like my talk they needn't hark ter what I say; But I ain' a-goin' to take no sass from folks from Injun Bay. I ask you free an' final: Be ye goin' ter marry me?" An' Mary Ann sez, tremblin', yet anxious-like, *^ I be." Gesture is inevitably synthetic^ and consequently harmonic: for harmony is but another name for synthesis. — Delaumosne. 178 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. A WIFE'S LAMENT. Will H. Cadmus. IVT O! there ain't no use of talkin', Zeb is gettin' most too old To be changin' for the better, So I seldom fret or scold; But it sometimes is provokin', An' I very often wish That he'd give up his hobby, Always hankerin' to fish. I've polished on the cookin'-stove Till you could see your face, An' worked around from morn till night To tidy up the place. I sometimes sweep, an' dust, an' scrub, Until, I will be bound. You cannot find a cleaner house For many miles around. Zeb tracks in with his muddy boots Upon the kitchen floor. Until I feel it ain't no use A-cleanin' any more. He'll bring along a string of fish. An' there won't be no peace Until I've fried 'em, an' the stove Gets spattered up with grease. On Saturday, he'll set at night. Along some muddy brook. We should not pre-occupy the audience with our own personality. There is no true., simple., or expressive work without self-abnegation. — Delsarte. DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. 179 An' wait until some worthless fish May come an' find his hook. Then, like enough, on Sunday morn He'll say, '* Why, there's the bell! I won't go with you, Betsy Ann, I ain't a-feelin' well." If he gets called away from home, He'll take a piece of twine. With bait an' hooks to well improve The odds an' ends of time. At night, I've scolded 'till I knew 'Twas useless any more. For all the answer I would get Would likely be a snore. I've sometimes wanted somethin' done, Perhaps to mend a chair. Or dig around my flower-beds. He'd claim *^ no time to spare." But then I've noticed many times, The task is not too great To dig a patch that's twice as big If huntin' after bait. Last spring he said he'd go to York To see the grand display; He thought that he could spare the time. He'd only go one day. I didn't see just how he could, The crops were needin' care, But then I didn't find no fault, The neighbors would be there. The teacher's work is complete when the pupil has been trained to the per- fect control 0/ the instruments through which the soul can be expressed. — Genevieve Stebbins. i8o DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, I claimed the military show Was better than the rest. He said that he was satisfied The naval would be best. But afterward I found he sat From nine till six o'clock, A drop-line down between his knees, A-fishin' from the dock! He lately bought a fishin'-pole, A fancy kind of thing, A little wheel upon the stick For windin' up the string. Sez I to him, " It seems to me You'll never have no sense; You know that we cannot afford To have no such expense." Sez I, *^ You know your overcoat Is very far from new; We need new chairs and carpet. An' the church pew rent is due." He said Fd claimed the meat he bought, Fd very often found, Was poor stuff, sold for tenderloins. At twenty cents a pound. "An' now," sez he, "our butcher bills Will probably be small; There's fish enough," with his new rod He'd maybe catch 'em all ! You should have seen the basketful That he brought home at night — J, . Beauty is based on three conditions: clearness^ integrity^ and due propor- tion. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. i8i The flounders, bass, an* bluefish, too — My goodness! What a sight! He said he'd had a jolly time. An' didn't fail to say, The bites he'd had was wonderful, The best ones got away! But, later, Van Dutchoven's wife. Claimed Jake Goosrobber knew, Zeb hadn't caught them fish at all. He'd bought 'em of Jim Drew! JACK HALL'S BOAT-RACE. Robert Grant. Arranged by Elsie M. Wilbor. TT was an established custom on the annual exhibition day at Utopia School for the best single scullers to demonstrate by a two-mile contest which could pull the fastest. Tom Bonsall was the acknowledged crack single sculler in the school, and as he was to graduate this year, it was Jack Hall's last chance to prove himself the superior. Great preparations were made for the con- test. But the excitement was nothing compared with what it became when Dr. Meredith, the principal, an- nounced his intention of competing for the silver cup himself. The report ran like wildfire through the school. " Have you heard the news?" everyone asked his neigh- bor. " The doctor is going in for the single sculls against Bonsall and Hall. He hasn't rowed in a race T : T The law of evolution tn expression is: first the eye^ then the face^ then the head^ then the arms and hands^ and last the body. — Steele Mackaye. * _— ^ .. ^ 1 82 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. for ever so long." As to what the result of the race would be, few saw room to doubt. Neither of them could hope to beat the doctor. The appointed day dawned bright and still. The race had been fixed for ten o'clock. The lake was re- ported to be like a mirror, and the day unexceptionable from an oarsman's point of view. At nine o'clock Jack emerged in his boating-costume. Every boy w^ho pos- sessed a boat was out in it, and the water was dotted with every variety of craft, from a canoe to a steam- launch. The stand, which had been erected just oppo- site to the finish, was crowded. As for Jack, he was trembling all over, and could feel his heart going like a trip-hammer. The course was two miles in all; straight away for a mile to a flagged buoy, and back again fo another flagged buoy abreast of the boat-house. Jack was the last of the three to get into his boat. He paddled a few rods and then shot off at a comfort- able pace up the lake, followed by the gaze of the spec- tators eager to gauge his powers. He caught a glimpse of Tom Bonsall resting on his oars and watching him. Jack pulled steadily for a few hundred yards, taking a last glance at his equipment to make sure everything was all right. He had scarcely turned to come back when the pistol sounded, and by the time he reached the starting-line the doctor and Tom were in position. According to the lots drawn that morning, Jack was to be in the middle, with Tom inside; so he paddled in be- tween them. He felt almost beside himself in the short interval that preceded the discharge, and his throat seemed parched. —^ Beauty is to the Beautiful ivhat the iytdividual reason is to the divine rea- son of things. It is one ray of the beautiful. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 183 Crack! The three pairs of blades flashed through the water at the same moment, and neither boat seemed to gain any decided advantage as they bounded away from the buoy amid the cheers of everybody. '' Hurrah for the doctor!" "Hit her up, Tom!" "Bully for you, Jackl" It took our hero some minutes to get his head clear enough to be able to perceive what he was doing, as compared with his opponents. He was conscious of rowing a rather quicker and more jerky stroke than usual. His eyes were misty and his throat drier than ever. The cheers of the spectators were growing fainter, and he felt that it was time to settle down to work. He made a gulp and looked about him. On his right was Tom pulling like grim death, at a rate which seemed to lift his boat almost out of the water. The stern of Tom's shell was nearly on a level with the back sweep of his own oars, which showed plainly that Tom had not far from half a length's lead on him. On the other side was the doctor, rowing steadily and smoothly as clock-work, neck and neck with him. " Softly now," said Jack to himself. "This is too fast company for me. If Tom can keep this racket up he'll get there first. My only chance is to let up a bit." Ac- cordingly he lessened the number of strokes to the minute by making each of them longer and more sweep- ing, w4th the immediate result that he felt in better shape, and that Tom had gained no further advantage on him. But there was no let up to Tom. He had the lead and was bent on keeping it. Not a sound was We never really understand an author^ s meafiing. Every one is free to in- terpret him according to his individual insti?ict. But we imist know hoiv to justify the interpretation by gesture. — Delaumosne. ^ 1 84 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, audible to Jack but the slight plashing of the oars in the water. Over his shoulder he saw Tom struggling on- ward; and abreast of him, pulling with apparently no effort and watching alertly the movements of his rivals, could be seen the dangerous doctor. But Jack felt calm now, and fresher than when he started. The doctor was pulling a waiting race; he was an old hand, and had seen many a race lost by too lively a pace at the start. " Steady," reflects Jack, ^^ don't hit her up too lively." He appreciates the doctor's tactics, and is not going to fall into the trap if he can help it, even though Tom, spurred on by swift pursuit, has put on more steam and is holding his own bravely. They are not far from the flagged buoy now, and are likely to pass it in the order in which they are at present, about half a length apart, and Tom has the inside water. Tom turns first, and very cleverly, too, close to the buoy so as to give no one a chance to cut in, and starts for home; but the others are at his heels and right after him. Half way, and Jack is still as fresh as ever. He remembers a parting caution not to spurt until he has to, and only bends strongly and firmly to his accus- tomed stroke. Ah, there! ^he doctor is waking up at last, and is putting in some stronger work. One thing is certain now; Tom will have to row faster or give in. Jack slightly quickens his stroke, and, without actually spurting, bends every muscle. Will Tom be able to quicken his pace? He does quicken it, so much so that he is rowing desperately fast with short, lightning strokes, which come so rapidly that it is difficult to note the interval between them. Brilliant, magnificent! But Things that are said quietly should sing themselves in the utterance. — Del- SARTE. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 185 Jack's long, steady swing is holding, and pressing into the bargain. " Steady now," murmurs Jack between his teeth. He knows from Tom's exertions that his rival is spurting. A terrible moment of sustained effort follows, at the end of which Tom lashes the air with a misplaced stroke, the water splashes, and Jack's shell comes on a level with its forerunner, battles with it for twenty yards of struggling agony on the part of the doomed champion, and leaps to the front just in time to meet the sweet music of the prolonged, triumphant din of shouts and cheers sent down by hundreds of voices. Jack is ahead, and only a quarter of a mile left! Tom is beaten. And now for the doctor. Where is he ? The nose of his boat is almost on a line with Jack's stern, and he is quicken- ing at every stroke. What a babel of cheers and exclamations bursts forth from the crowd along the bank and on the benches of the densely-packed standi ^* Jack Hall is ahead! Hall! Hall! No, he isn't! Hit her up, doctor! Hurrah for Hall! Hurrah for the doctor! Tom, where are you? Bonsall! Bonsall! H-A-L-L! Hall-1-1!" The tumult is maddening. Can it be possible that Jack Hall, who before the race was rated lowest of the three, is going to break the school record and beat the doctor in one and the same breath? It looks like it, if he can hold his own for two hundred yards more. But see, the doctor is spurting with a vengeance — look! — look! — and is he not gaining, too? "Doctor Meredith is ahead! No he's not — Hall's The philosophy of expression is the philosophy of manifestation. In its T broadest sense^ it is the philosophy of the infinite as revealed in the universe. In its restricted sense^ it is the philosophy of man as revealed through the or- ganism; the inner essence or soul manifesting itself through the outer sub- stance or body. — Moses True Brown. | , ^ - * 1 86 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. ahead! Huzza! hurrah! Hall, Hall, hit her up, Hall! Look out. Hall! The doctor wins! No he doesn't! Hall wins! Hurrah! Jack, where are you?" The doctor has crept up; the nose of his shell is now well beyond Jack's out-rigger, and he is speeding like the wind. Jack is feeling terribly tired; his throat that he thought parched at the start burns as if it were on fire, and his eyes seem ready to start out of his head. Jack turns his head and sights the goal. Not more than 150 yards left! The yells and cheers are setting his blood ablaze. He can scarcely see, but he knows he has not spurted yet. He is neck and neck with the doctor now. There can be nothing to choose between them. ''The doctor wins!" ''Not a bit of it; Hall wins! Good on your head, Jack! Keep it up, doctor! Go in. Hall!" The time has come now, Jack knows, to put in any spurt that is left in him. Gripping the handles of his oars like a vise, and shutting his eyes, Jack throws all his powers into one grand effort. "Hall! Hall! Hurrah! Nobly done. Hall! Hall wins! Row, doctor, row!" The doctor is rowing with all his might, but he has not counted on the staying powers of his adversary. If Jack can hold out for half a dozen strokes more, the victory is his. One. "Hall! Hall! Go in, doctor!" Two. "Three cheers for Hall! Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" Three. "Hurrah! H-A-L-L!" A moveinent should never be mixed with a facial twist. — Delsartte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 187 Four. "Hall wins! Hall wins!'* Five. "Hurrah! Huzza! Hurrah! Hall! Hall! Doctor! Doctor!" Six. Panting, breathless, and bewildered by the deafening cheers. Jack sees the flagged buoy shoot past his oar- blade and knows that he has won the race and is cham- pion of Utopia. THE MARRIAGE OF THE FLOWERS. S. H. M. Byers. T^HERE'S a wedding in the orchard, dear, I know it by the flowers; They're wreathed on every bough and branch, or falling down in showers. The air is in a mist, I think, and scarce knows what to be— Whether all fragrance, clinging close, or bird-song, wild and free. "It is six," the swallows twittered, " and you're very late in rising — If you really think of rising on this lovely morn at all — For the great red sun is peeping over wood and hill and meadow. And the unmilked cows are lowing in the dimly-lighted stall." Articulation is the arrest or vibration of tone^ produced by the pronu7icia- tion of consonants. — Genevieve Stebbins. 1 88 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. '' Oh, ye robins and ye swallows," thought I, throwing back the lattice, " Ye are noisy, joyous fellows, and you waken when you will;" Then 1 saw a dainty letter, bound in ribbon-grass and clover. That the swallows had left swinging by the narrow window-sill. Oh, the dainty, dainty letter, on an orange leaf, or lemon. Signed, "Your friend, the Queen of Roses," writ in characters of dew: "You're invited to the garden, there's a good time there at seven. And a place beside the apple-tree has been reserved for you. " There'll be matings there, and marriages, of every flower and blossom; Cross the brook behind the arbor, and come early, if you can." Oh, my thoughts they all went bounding, and my heart leaped in my bosom, " And how sweetly she composes," I reflected as I ran. There she sat, the queen of roses, with her virgins all about her. While the lilacs and the apple-blooms seemed waiting her command. Oh, how lovely, oh, how graciously she smiled on each new-comer; 4- — ^ 1/ you cannot conquer your de/ect^ make it belo7}ed. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 189 Oh, how sweetly kissed the lilies as she took them by the hand. All at once the grass-rows parted, and the sweetest notes were sounded, There was music, there was odor, there was loving in the air; And a hundred joyous gallants, robed in holiday ap- parel, Danced beneath the lilac bushes with a hundred maid- ens fair. There were tulips, proud and yellow, with their great green spears beside them; There were lilies grandly bowing to the rose queen as they came; There were daffodils so stately^ scenting all the air of heaven; Joyous buds and sleeping poppies, with their banners all aflame. There were pansies robed in purple, marching o'er the apple-blossoms. And the foxgloves with their pages tripped coquettish- ly along; And the violets and the daisies, in their bonnets blue and yellow. Joined the marching and parading of th* innumerable throng. All at once the dandelion blew three notes upon his trumpet: "- Choose ye partners for the dancing, gallant knights and ladies fair;" t ^ The rhythm of gesture is proportional to the mass to be moved. The more an organ is restrained^ the more vehement is its impulse. — Delaumosne. I90 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. And the honeysuckle court'sied to the young, sweet- breathed clematis, And remarked upon the sweetness of the blossoms in her hair. "We're the tallest," said the tuberose to the iris, stand- ing nearest, '' And suppose that now, for instance, I should offer you my heart?" " Oh, how sudden," cried the sly thing; " I am really quite embarrassed — Unexpected, but pray do it, just to give the rest a start." Then a daisy kissed a pansy, with its jacket brown and yellow. And the crocus led a thistle to a seat beside the rose; And the maybells grouped together, close beside the lady-slipper. And commented on the beauty and the splendor of her clothes. "Oh, a market this for beauty," said a jasmine, gently clinging To the strong arm of an orange, as a glance on him she threw; "Why, you scarcely would believe it, but I've had this very morning Twenty offers, and declined them just to promenade with you." Then again the grass it parted, and the sunshine it grew brighter. Let your attitude^ gesture^ and face foretell -what you would make felt, - Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 191 r Till it seemed as if the curtains of high heaven were withdrawn, And each flower and bud and blossom pressed some fair one to its bosom, As the bannered train danced gaily 'twixt the windrows on the lawn. Oh, the musk-rose was so stately! and so stately was the queen rosel And how sweetly smiled she on me as she whispered in my ear: ** Come again; you know you're welcome, come again, dear, for it may be That our baby buds and blossoms will be christened here next year." THE OLD CHURCH. H. H. Johnson. "Xyl rHAT! tear the old church down, you say, and ^ ^ build a modern one. That we can look with pride upon and boast of when 'tis done ? With lots of little rooms below for festivals and fairs. And one big room for preachin', with its pews and easy- chairs? What's wrong about the dear old church we've wor- shipped in so long? The walls are good, the clapboards tight, the timbers sound and strong; Expression in nature flows from the impulses 0/ natural pas'^ion. Expres- | sion in art i7nplies a mastery of the primary impulses of natural passion by that rational and tnoral substance in the individual zvhich distinguishes the man from the beast as a supernatural entity. — Steele Mackaye, | •i* — ~~ — — — — »! 192 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. I'll own the roof is leakin' some, but that can be made right, A shingle stuck in here and there will make the old roof tight. You want to build a stylish church. I think I know your views; And then when you have got it built, you'll rent or sell the pews. And poor folks that haint got the cash to pay for sit- tin' room. Must take their preachin' standin' up, or else remain at home. I tell you, brethren, that old church seems like a life- long friend; Sweet memories are clusterin' there will last till life shall end. Each timber, joist, and board and nail seems speakin' with a tongue. And tellin' of the good done here since you and I were young. Beside that dear old altar there, just fifty years to-day, I knelt and begged for pardon, and Christ washed my sins away; And though old Time has thinned my hair, and bleached it white as snow. That altar is as dear to me as fifty years ago. The sermons that we've listened to from holy men of God, ^ One cannot be too careful of his articulation. The initial consonant should be articulated distinctly : the spirit of the word is contained in it. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 193 Whose bodies now are lyin' cold beneath the church- yard sod, Seem ringin' in my ears to-day, and full of gospel truth, As when I listened to them in the merry days of youth. I seem to hear the preacher's voice say, '' Brethren, let us pray," And all the congregation kneel in the old-fashioned way. I seem to hear the thrillin' shouts of '' Glory' and ** Amen^'" Respondin' from the people's hearts and echoin' again. I seem to hear those old-time hymns we all so loved to sing, That used to swell from ev'ry heart, and make the old church ring. There's one now ringin' in my ears: '' Let angels pros- trate fall Bring forth the royal diadem and crown Him Lord of all!" 'Twould seem too much like sacrilege to tear that altar down; Fm 'fraid God wouldn't bless the deed, but rather on it frown. No, brethren, not a dollar will you get from my old hand! Fd rather give five hundred more and let the old church stand! So, I beg you, let the old church stand; and when this old, gray head The teacher is advised to train the voice at the same time with the body, training both as an instrument. — Genevieve Stebbins. 194 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, Shall lie beneath the flowers in the city of the dead. Then you can tear the old church down and build one new and grand; But while I live, oh, heed my prayer, and let the old church stand. CANDOR. H. C. BUNNER. "T KNOW what you're going to say," she said, And she stood up, looking uncommonly tall ; ** You are going to speak of the hectic fall. And say you're sorry the summer's dead. And no other summer was like it, you know, And can I imagine what made it so ? Now, aren't you, honestly?" "Yes," I said. ** I know what you're going to say," she said ; "You are going to ask if I forget That day in June when the woods were wet. And you carried me " — here she dropped her head — "Over the creek ; you are going to say, Do I remember that horrid day .'* Now aren't you, honestly ?" " Yes," I said. " I know what you're going to say," she said ; " You are going to say that since that time You have rather tended to run to rhyme. And " — her clear glance fell and her cheek grew red- Speech is external^ and visible thought is the ambassadress of the intellect. - Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 195 ^* And have I noticed your tone was queer? Why, everybody has seen it here ! Now, aren't you, honestly?" '' Yes, " I said. ** I know what you're going to say," I said; *^ You're going to say you've been much annoyed, And I'm short of tact — you will say devoid — And I'm clumsy and awkward, and call me Ted, And I bear abuse like a dear old lamb. And you'll have me, anyway, just as I am. Now, aren't you, honestly?" **Ye-es," she said. A BOY'S CONCLUSION. OHE wuz a old maid, Aunt Sue wuz; She never had any little boys Er girls, like mos' of women does. I guess she didn't like the noise And bother 'at a baby brings. And so God didn't send her none, But let 'em stay and wear their wings. I bet they have a sight of fun! I've got a baby brother there. And he's got wings, and, if I'm good, I'm goin' to die and have a pair Some time, 'cause mamma said I should. When Aunt Sue wuz a girl, ma said. She had a beau, like Sister Bess. He went to the war and come back dead, Arid that's all 'at saved her^ I guess; 'Cause, if he hadn't lost his life, • « Art proposes three things: to 7Jtove^ to interest, to persuade by unity of in- flection and gesture. One effect must not destroy another. Divergence con- fuses the audience^ and leaves no titne for sentiment. — Delaumosne. 4- 196 DELSARTE RECUSATION BOOK, He would 'a' come back after her; And she'd 'a' had to be his wife And go with him jist everywhere ! I'd think she'd 'a' been awful glad Because he didn't come, but died; But stid of that it made her sad, And mamma said she went and cried. And, mamma said, a long, long while After her beau wuz dead, Aunt Sue Jist moped around and wouldn't smile, - Until they thought that she'd die, too. But stid of dyin' she kep' on. And turned out to be a old maid; Jist 'cause the other beau wuz gone. She wouldn't have no more, she said. I pity Aunt Sue; but I can't Help be glad 'at her beau died, 'Cause I wouldn't have a old maid aunt If she'd 'a' been that feller's bride. I like Aunt Sue; her ginger cakes Are better'n what we have at home, They're sweeter 'n them my mamma makes. And she mos' always brings me some. And she's got lots of books and cats. And a little dog, and she don't care How much I play with them, and that's Why I like so to go down there. Old maids are nice. When I'm a man, If I don't live a single life. But marry some one, it's my plan To have a old maid for my wife. -* A part of the whole cannot be thoroughly appreciated by any one ignorant of the whole. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 197 A' ABOOT IT. William Lyle. I ^^(^\ MARY, will you gang wi' me, ^-^^ An' mak' my hame a heeven ? I'll licht yer nights, an' bless yer days, Wi' love as lang's I'm leeven." "Toots, laddie, dinna waste yer win' — ■ Its waur than wasted speakin'; Ye hae but ane heart at the best. An' I'm no' her it's seekin'." *^ Ah, Mary, I had ance a heart. But I hae ane nae langer; Yer een hae wiled it frae my breest, An' aye the spell grows stranger.'* " Ah, havers, Tam, ye ken fu' weel, Noo, whaur were ye' a roamin' Yestreen? Ye followed Maggie Rae Adoon the glen at gloamin'." " Mary, I thacht it was yersel'. But ne'er a word was spoken; The glen was dark without your smile. An' I cam' hame heart-broken." "Weel, maybe, Tam, ye were mista'en, But I'll tak' leave to doot it; It seems ye had to kiss lang Meg To find oot a' aboot it !" In change of inflection^ the voice should leap from one inflection to the other ^ not slide; otherwise the change produces a sing-song:— Gknkvievk Steb- BINS. 198 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. LORD CLIVE. Robert Browning. Arranged by Elsie M. Wilbor. T AND CLIVE were friends — and why not? power is power, my boy, and still Marks a man, — God's gift magnific, exercised for good or ill. We were friends then, Clive and I; so, when the clouds, about the orb Late supreme, encroaching slowly, surely, threatened to absorb Ray by ray its noontide brilliance, — friendship might, with steadier eye 5 Drawing near, bear what had burned else, now no blaze, all majesty. Too much bee's-wing floats my figure? Well, suppose a castle's new: None presume to climb its ramparts, none find foothold sure for shoe 'Twixt those squares and squares of granite plating the impervious pile As his scale-mail's warty iron cuirasses a crocodile. 10 Such a castle seldom tumbles by sheer stress of can^ nonade: 'Tis when foes are foiled and fighting's finished tha/ vile rains invade, Grass o'ergrows, o'ergrows till night-birds, congregate ing, find no holes Fit to build in like the topmost sockets made for ban- ner-poles. Dynajuic ivealth depends upon the nuinber of bodily articulations hj'ought into play; the fewer articulations an actor uses^ the ^nore closely he approaches to the puppet. — Dels arte. -4 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 199 So Clive crumbled slow at London, crashed at last. A week before, 15 Dining with him, — after trying churchyard-chat of days of yore, — As I saw his head sink heavy, guessed the soul's extin- guishment By the glazing eyeball, noticed how the furtive fingers went Where a drug-box skulked behind the honest liquor, — *^ One more throw Try for Clive!" thought I; "let's venture some good rattling question!" So — 20 *' Come, Clive, tell us," — out I blurted, — "^ what to tell in turn, years hence. Come! what moment of the minute, what speck-centre in the wide Circle of the action saw your mortal fairly deified? (Let alone that filthy sleep-stuff ; swallow bold this wholesome port!) If a friend has leave to question, — when were you most brave, in short?" 25 Up he arched his brows o' the instant, formidably Clive again. " When was I most brave? I'd answer, were the instance half as plain As another instance that's a brain-lodged crystal — curse it! — here Freezing when my memory touches — ugh! — the time I felt almost fear. 29 Ugh! I cannot say for certain if I showed fear — anyhow, Pantominte is of two distinct species: elliptic panioniiine^ which is the niani- T \festation hy the otiter action of the body of the inward life of the body; and descriptive pantomime^ which is the illustration by the viotion of the body of\ \ some outer part or action. St^^i^k Mackaye. | _ ^ -i* 200 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. Fear I felt, and, very likely, shuddered, since I shiver now. Down his brows dropped. On the table painfully he pored, as though Tracing in the stains and streaks there, thoughts en- crusted long ago. When he spoke 'twas like a lawyer reading word by word some will. Some blind jungle of a statement, — beating on and on until 35 Out there leaps fierce life to fight with. " This fell in my factor-days. Desk-drudge, slaving at St. David's, one must game, or drink, or craze. I chose gaming; and — because your high-flown game- sters hardly take Umbrage at a factor's elbow if the factor pays his stake — I was winked at in a circle where the company was choice, 40 Captain This and Major That, men high of color, loud of voice, "Yet indulgent, condescending to the modest juvenile. Who not merely risked but lost his hard-earned guineas with a smile. Down I sat to cards, one evening, had for my antagonist Somebody whose name's a secret — you'll know why — so, if you list, 45 Call him Cock o' the walk, my scarlet son of Mars from head to heel! ^— ^ Conscious menace — that of a master to his subordinate — is expressed by a ino7iement of the head carried from, above downward. Impotent menace re- quires the head to be moved from below upward. — Delsarte. ^ : 4. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 201 Play commenced; and whether Cocky fancied that a clerk must feel ** Quite sufficient honor came of bending over one green baize, I the scribe with him the warrior, guessed no penman dared to raise Shadow of objection should the honor stay but playing end 50 More or less abruptly, — whether disinclined he grew to spend, Practice strictly scientific on a booby born to stare At — not ask of — lace and ruffles if the hand they hide plays fair. " Anyhow, I marked a movement when he bade me ' Cut!' I rose. '• Such the new manoeuvre, captain? I'm a novice; knowl- edge grows. 55 What, you force a card, you cheat, sir?' Never did a thunderclap Cause emotion, startle Thyrsis locked with Chloe in his lap, As my word and gesture (down I flung my cards to join the pack) Fired the man of arms, whose visage, simply red before, turned black. '^When he heard his voice, he stammered, 'That ex- pression once again.' 60 *Well, you forced a card and cheated!' 'Possibly a factor's brain, ^ _™. ^^ The law of expansion of motion of action existing in -mental expression is in proportion to the uncontrolled force of the inotio7i. — Steele Mackaye. 202 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. Busied with his all-important balance of accounts, may deem Weighing words, superfluous trouble; cheat to clerkly ears may seem Just the joke for friends to venture: but we are not friends, you see! When a gentleman is joked with, — if he's good at re- partee — 65 *^ ^ He rejoins as I do — Sirrah, on your knees, withdraw in fulll Beg my pardon, or be sure a kindly bullet through your skull Lets in light and teaches manners to what brain it finds! Choose quick — Have your life snuffed out or, kneeling, pray me trim yon candlewick! ' * Well, you cheated! ' 70 Then outbroke a howl from all the friends around. To their feet sprang men in fury, fists were clinched and teeth were ground. * End it! no time like the present! Captain, yours were our disgrace! ' " Up we stood accordingly. As they handed me the weapon, such was my soul's thirst to try Then and there conclusions with this bully, tread on and stamp out 75 Every spark of his existence, that — crept close to, curled about By that toying, tempting, teasing fool-forefinger's mid- dle joint,— T The mouth plays a part in everything evil ivhich we ivould express^ by a grimace ivhich consists of protruding the lips and lowering the corners. If the grimace translates a co7tcentric sentiment^ it should be made by compress- \ing the lips. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 203 Don't you guess?— the trigger yielded. Gone my chance! and at the point Of such prime success, moreover; scarce an inch above his head Went my ball to hit the wainscot. He was living, I was dead. 80 '^ Up he marched in flaming triumph — *twas his right, mind! — up, within Just an arm's length. * Now, my clerkling,' chuckled Cocky with a grin As the levelled piece quite touched me, * now, Sir Count- ing-house, repeat That expression which I told you proved bad manners! Did I cheat?' 'Cheat you did, you knew you cheated, and, this mo- ment, know as well. 85 As for me, my homely breeding bids you — fire and go to hell! ' " Twice the muzzle touched my forehead. Heavy barrel, flurried wrist. Either spoils a steady lifting. Thrice: then, * Laugh at hell who list, I can*t! God's no fable, either. Did this boy's eye wink once? No! There's no standing him and hell and God all three against me, — so, 90 I did cheat! ' And down he threw the pistol, out rushed — by the door Possibly, but, as for knowledge if by chimney, roof, or floor, : \ 1 Habit ts n second nature: zn /act^ a habitual movement fashions the mate- rial and physical bei)ig i7t such a manner as to create a type not inborn, and ivhich is named habitual. — Delaumosne, 204 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. He effected disappearance — I'll engage no glance was sent That way by a single starer, such a blank astonishment Swallowed up the senses; as for speaking — mute they stood as mice 95 '' Mute not long, though ! Such reaction, such a hubbub in a trice! * Rogue and rascal! Who'd have thought it? What's to be expected next? Drum and fife must play the Rogue's March, rank and file be free to speed. Tardy marching on the rogue's part by appliance in the rear — Kicks administered shall right this wronged civilian, — never fear.* 100 "'Gentlemen, attention — pray! First, one word! Some five minutes since my life lay— as you all saw, gentlemen, At the mercy of your friend there. Not a single voice was raised -In arrest of judgment, not one tongue — before my pow- der blazed — Ventured, " Can it be the youngster blundered, really seemed to mark 105 Some irregular proceeding? Look into the case, at least!" Who dared interpose between the altar's victim and the priest? Yet he spared me! You eleven! Whosoever, all or each, Utters — to the disadvantage of the man who spared me — speech — . Science receives^ art gives. By science man assimilates the 7uorld; by art he assimilates himself to the world. Assimilation is to science what incarnation is to art. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 205 To his face, behind his back, — that speaker has to do with me; no Me who promise, if positions change and mine the chance should be. Not to imitate your friend and waive advantage! ' ^* Well, you've my story, there's your instance: fear I did, you see!" " Fear — I wish I could detect there; courage fronts me, plain enough, Call it desperation, madness, never mind! for here's in rough — 115 Why, had mine been such a trial, fear had overcome disgrace. True, disgrace were hard to bear; but no such rush against God's face! " ANALYSIS. F. TOWNSEND SOUTHWICK. No poet needs more the artist to stand as interpreter between him and the average individual than does Browning. The closet reading of Browning is some- what difficult; his sentences are not always well framed for the eye, the words do not adjust themselves natu- rally to the focus of the ordinary understanding, the thread of his thought gets tangled in the meshes of his imagination, until we almost lose it altogether. This is owing to two quite opposite qualities in his work that it seems paradoxical to name together: dif- fuseness and compression. He crowds his pages with a wealth of vivifying, reinforcing ideas branching from and adorning the main subject, side lights, so to speak, thrown upon the central motif. He must flash every The head and hand cannot act simultaneously to express the same senti- ment. One could not say " ?zihra- tive agent^ or the larynx; the reverberative agetit^ or the niouth. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 215 Then Famine, like a wolf, comes stalking, And enters homes before our eyes; Around, above, a storm is gath'ring. And groans go upward to the skies. You cannot hush the murmurs of the people when they're led By pangs of hunger; nature speaks, and they cry: "We want bread!" Then Famine travels from the village, The city feels its touch at length; Make haste, and seek to stop its journey With drums beat hard with all your strength, In spite of powder and swift bullet. It travels as on wing of bird. And on remotest, highest rampart It plants its black flag undisturbed. You cannot hush the murmurs of the people when they're led By pangs of hunger; nature speaks, and they cry: "We want bread!" Of what avail are hosts of soldiers ? For Famine gives to those it arms The keenest weapons, and it gathers Recruits from forests, fields, and farms, With forks and shovels, scythes and sickles; At knell of war fond lovers part, And maidens fair are weeping sadly. The cannon's summons breaks the heart. You cannot hush the murmurs of the people when they're led The arms sJiould never extend the same ivay. If they folloiv each other ^ one sho7ild be more advanced than the other. Never allow parallelism. — Delaumosne. 2i6 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. By pangs of hunger; nature speaks, and they cry: "We want bread!" Among the eager crowds of people Arrest all armed with knife or gun; Erect in open squares as menace The scaffold's framework nearly done. But when, in sight of trembling thousands, The bloody sword its work shall end, And destinies for aye be settled, A cry of " Blood " on high ascends. You cannot hush the murmurs of the people when they're led By pangs of hunger; nature speaks, and they cry: "We want bread!" Our daily bread is life's sustainer As much as water, fire, and air; Without it we are helpless, dying, And 'tis God's debt for us to care. But has not He paid all He owes us? Has He refused to give us soil? The sun's bright rays shine warm upon us, And ripening grain repays our toil. You cannot hush the murmurs of the people when they're led By pangs of hunger; nature speaks, and they cry: "We want bread!" The earth is full of life and vigor. And grain in harvests rich should yield From ardent tropics to north's limit, A golden crown for every field. i Let a head — however loving one may suppose it to be intrinsically -bend toward the object of its contemplation^ and let the shoulder not be lifted^ that head will plainly lack an air of vitality and warm sincerity without which it cannot persuade us. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 217 Dig deep, then, into earth's broad bosom. And for this work, which ne'er should cease. Beat sword and cannon into ploughshares, And change the arm of war to peace! You cannot hush the murmurs of the people when they're led By pangs of hunger; nature speaks, and they cry: *' We want bread!" What matters, then, the petty quarrels Of monarchs, statesmen high in life ? Shall we, because of foolish hatreds. Take up our arms for blood and strife ? Far rather let us join our forces. With *^ work " for watchword, peace to reign; Give up the earth to plough and sickle. And bread will ne'er be scare again. You cannot hush the murmurs of the people when they're led By pangs of hunger; nature speaks, and they cry: " We want bread!" SUGGESTIVE ANALYSIS. Genevieve Stebbtns Thompson. The first picture to be seen in the imagination and externalized in voice and action is the calm of nature void of man. Then is ushered in the stormi of woe in 177/^ intelligent man makes few gestures. To multiply gestures indicates a lack of intelligence. The face is the thermometer of intelligence. Let as much expression as possible be given to the face. — Delaumosne. * ■ . 2i8 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. men's hearts, and the stanza culminates in the piteous cry, '*we want bread." Those who have been students of the Delsarte system of expression will remember the striking distinction drawn between the dynamic voice with intensity in it and the mere empty tone. To ac- quire this dynamic quality, the reader must vividly see and deeply feel within himself the scenes and emotions depicted in the poem. The second stanza should be gived with concentration, rapidity, and excitement. The refrain *' we want bread " should be given with a vocal coloring of desperation. The third stanza should have the character of lamen- tation and menace. ** The cannon's summons breaks the heart," and the refrain, are given in a tone of menace and agony. The fourth stanza is given with despair and menace, and the refrain as if spoken from on high by astern and mighty avenger. The last three stanzas should be given in an orotund tone, as voicing the great principle of the right of all God's creatures to enjoy the fruits of their labor. In the first stanza the action of the first four lines is descriptive, and then Famine is personified by a crouch- ing and advancing attitude. In line 7 is a sweeping, descriptive gesture, which is followed by an attitude of passionate appeal. In the second stanza in the first line the arm sweeps horizontally, expressing the advance of famine, and is held pointing as the body earnestly advances at the sec- ond line. At the third line turn to the opposite direc- tion and assume a repellent attitude. The gestures in the following lines should suggest the action described. The third stanza should close with the hands held convulsively in a menacing attitude. In the fourth stanza the gestures should be of the full arm, and should culminate in uplifting the arm above the head at the cry of " blood." The arm should be held aloft until the cry " we want bread," when both arms should be uplifted. ^ . iWhen a man presses a woman's hand^ we viay affirtn that he loves her sen- sually — that is to say^ solely for physical qualities — i/^ on looking at her^ he moves his head toward the shoulder that is opposite her. — Delsarte. I DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 219 The last three stanzas are purely declamatory; de- scriptive and dramatic action ceases and the ordinary oratorical gestures are used. EVER SO FAR AWAY. Von Boyle. [I have given this selection successfully without dialect; so did the late Harry G. Richmond, comedian. So does Mr. Marshall P. Wilder. The following is about the way I present it at children's entertain- ments. — Von B.] n^HERE are two very funny fellows in Harlem: one ^ is Mr. Pointer, the insurance man; the other is Mr. Dingelbender, the butcher man. As Mr. Dingelbender sat at supper the other evening, the door-bell rang, and Mr. Pointer came rushing into the dining-room. " Dingelbender, I'm in a scrape, and I want you to help me out." " You got shcrapes, eh! Veil you shcraped yourselluf in — now you can shcrape yourselluf oudt again." ^^ Friend Dingelbender, I'm not joking now; I'm in dead earnest." ^^ Is dot so! Vhen vill dhey burry you? Look here, vonct, Mr. Pointer. You vas such a' awful choker dat if you vas really deadt in earnest, all your friendts vould tink somehow it a good choke. But if you vas really in some tifficulties, und I can shcrape you oudt, I vill pe fery habby to shcrape you already!" The law of direction in gesture is: upivard for the spiritual and universal: downnvard for the weak and bestial; horizontally expanded for the serene and philanthropic. — Genevieve Stebbins. 220 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, '' Thanks. Well, this is how the matter stands. I engaged a prestidigitateur, you know, to give our Sun- day-school an entertainment, this evening, and the gen- tleman met with an accident while practicing some trick. He swallowed a piano — I mean an organ, — mouth-organ, you know. Now I want you to come right around and take his place." '' No, sir. You tink I vill make a laughing-shtocking oudt of mineselluf, und shpoil mine intigestion shwal- lowing pianos und moudt-organs und tings?" ** No, Mr. Dingelbender; I simply want you to address the children." '^ Dress dem shildren! Poor leetle tings, und such a coldt night, too! Vy don't you sendt dem back home und make deir barents dress dem?" " Now, Dingelbender, don't tease me, and V\\ promise not to make fun of you any more. Will you ^^dress the children for me?" " Yes, I vill do de pest vot I can." Mr. Dingelbender was as good as his word. In half an hour he w^as at the little chapel, confronting a large and enthusiastic audience. Rising to the importance of the occasion, he said: " Mrs. Ladies und shentlemans — und shildrens — es- becially de shildrens: " I tink on such occasions like dhis ve should reco- member dot men und vomens vas only * shildren of de larger growdt', und dot poys und girls vas men und vomen in miniature. Efery man und vomans vas vonce a leetle girl — a leetle poy I mean — und de poy of to-day vill be de man of to-morrow, — or de day afder to-mor- row. Efery goodt man has shtill someting of de poy When a inan presses a ivo7nan's hand, we 7nay affirm that he loves her ten- derly^ if he bozvs his head obliqtiely to her. — Delsarte. DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. 221 apout him, und efery true poy has someting of de man apouthim; und all great mens dhey lofe shildrens. I lofe shildrens mineselluf ; I can't helb it — I vas porn dat vay. ** I recomember vhen I vas a leetle shild mineselluf, shust as blain as dhough it vas to-morrow. I had put- tons all ofer me, und copper door-blates on de frondt of mine shoes to keep mine toes inside. Und I had a leetle shweetheart. Her frondt name vas Susan — Susan Ann Gugenheimer. She used to sing a leetle song like dhis. [ Sings. ] Vot care I for goldt und silber, Vot care I for haus und landt? Vot care I for shiffs in de ocean — All vot I vant vas a nice yunk man. Und I vas her nice yunk man dot time. " Veil, ve poys had also a song. Vot you call dot song now, vhere you put your handts up dhis vay? \indicati?lg^^ Oh, I know now, it's [w^^i".] ' London pridge vas purning up, purning up, purning up.' Dot's it. Veil, vhile ve sing dot song dhem leetle girls dhey used to go underbeneath our handts, und ve — veil, ve usedt to kiss 'em. Oh, my! \smacks lips] dem vas de shweetest kisses; I can tasdt dhem yedt. "Veil, de odher tay I vas sidding by mine open vin- dow. Dot school-haus hadt shust ledt himselluf oudt — it vas recess times. I pegan to tink apout shildhoodt tays — dhem olden tays, — dhem golden tays vot vill nefer come pack on me! I fell in a shleep und saw de shky vas all full mit cloudts, und de cloudts vas full mit shil- Manner is the unconscious reveJator of character; it is the soul's hand- writing upon the walls o/Jlesh.—'M.RS,. Edna Swell Poulson. 222 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, drens, und de shildrens vas full mit choy, singing und playing dhem happy songs und games of sbildhoodt. Suttenly dhere appeared amongst dhem a eldterly, kindly man dot I recognized at vonce as Fader Goose — • I mean Fader Gander. He recited a leetle poem dot amoosed the shildrens, und somehow touched a responsif chord in mine own heart. Und as he recited, dhem leetle ones, dhough dhey listened mit him, dhey shtill vent on mit dheir own blays und songs, und de effect as it reached mine ears vas someting like dhis: My name it vas Fader Gander, Und I come vrom ofer yonder Ofer de hills, past Shones's Mills — ■ It vas efer so far avay. I came vrom a town in Vonderland, It's a peautiful blace, you must undershtand, Vhere dhey nefer get late, dhey vas alvays on handt. But it's efer so far avay. \_Sings.\ * A-vaiting for a pardner. So open the ring und pring her in Und kiss her ven you get her in.' De beoples all de vhile dhere, Dhey laugh und dhey sing und dhey shmile dhere: Dhere vas nefer a frown in all of dot town, But it's efer so far avay. Und nopody dhere vas naughdy und rude; Und de law of love vas so veil understoodt Dat dhey shpend all dheir time in de doing of goodt — But it's efer so far avay. When a 7nan presses a ivoinan' s hand, ive may affirm that he does not love her^ if his head remains straight or simply bent infaci^igher. — Delsarte. DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. 223 * Johnny Buff had money enough To lock it up in a store-room,' etc. Dhey're careful to be righdt dhere; Dhey nefer scholdt nor fighdt dhere, Und nopody's poor — I'm certain und sure Dot it's efer so far avay. Und nopody goes to law ofer dhere; Vhy, dhey haven't a shail, nor a shudge, nor a mayor. For de beoples vas honest, dhey're fair und dhey're shquare — But it's efer so far avay. * Green gravel, green gravel, Your true love vas deadt, He sendt you a letter to Turn back your headt.' De nights vas bright as tay dhere, Und dhey haf all kinds of blay dhere; Und in a palloon dhey visit de moon — Oh, dot's efer so far avay. You took vot you vant, for noting vas soldt, Vhy, dot landt vas all full mit silber und goldt! Und dhey alvays grow yunk — dhey nefer grow oldt; But it's efer so far avay. \_Sings.'\ 'Little Sally Vaters, sitting in de sun. Crying und veeping for a yunk man, Rise, Sally, rise, vipe your eyes off mit your frock; ^ ^ ^ speech is the feminine^ action the ■masculine^ sex in expression. The former \ gives the finer manifestation of iho tight ^ the latter the stronger revelation of life. — Franklin H. Sargent. 224 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. Fly to the east, fly to the vest, Fly to the fery vone dot you lofe pest.' De mosquitos nefer pite you; I'm sure dhey vouldt telight you, By singing dheir song de whole night long, Pu-z-z-z! efer so far avay. Vhat efer you vant you make a vish, Und it's prought to you in a shina tish, A shlice of pie or a piece of fish — But it's efer so far avay. \Sings^, * London pridge vas purning up, my fair lady/ [^Business of imitating children kissing.^ Nov/ vouldt you like to go dhere, Und see dot vonderful show dhere, Ofer de hills, past Shones's mills, Und efer so far avay? Dhen don't you pe cross und say naughdy tings, Und a shpirit vill took you right under his vings. To dot landt vhere de honey-bee solemnly sings, Und bumples und puzzes und yet nefer shtings, Und de shildren all blay mit ponies und shwings, Und vear such fine dresses you'd tink dhey vas kings, Und efery vone shouts vhen de tinner-pell rings; It's efer und efer so far, far, far avay. '' Und shust dhen I vokeoudt; und it vas only a tream. But somehow I tink our pest treams vill all come true in dot ' Shweet-pooty quick' pye und pye." [Here may follow singing of a verse or two of "The Sweet Bye and Bye " by the school or a chorus]. 4- When a painter examines his %vork^ he inoves aivay frotn it perceptibly. He inoves away in proportion to the degree of his admiration of it., so that the retroactive movement of his body is in equal ratio to the interest that he feels in contemplating his work. — Delsarte. DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. 225 THE MASSACRE OF ZOROASTER.' F. Marion Crawford. Arranged by Elsie M. Wilbor. [Nehushta, a Hebrew maiden, betrothed to Zoroaster, had, in a fit of jealous anger, married Darius, king of the Persians. Zoroaster, greatly grieved, became a high priest. Finding, from an interview with him, that her jealousy was groundless, Nehushta was very un- happy at her mistake. The king had been called to a distant part of his kingdom at the time of the following scene.] T^OUR days after the king's departure, Nehushta was wandering in the gardens as the sun was going down. Just then a strange sound echoed far off among the hills, an unearthly cry that rang high in the air and struck the dark crags and doubled in the echo, and died away in short, faint pulsations of sound. She started slightly; she had never heard such a sound before. Again that strange cry rang out and echoed and died away. Her slave-women gathered about hen " What is it?" asked Nehushta. " The war-cry of the children of Anak is like that," said a little Syrian maid. Nehushta pushed the slaves aside and fled toward the palace. The truth had flashed across her. Some armed force was collecting on the hills to descend upon the palace. But one thought filled her mind: she must find Zoroaster and warn him. Through the garden she ran, and up the broad steps to the portico. Slaves were moving about under the colonnade, lighting the great torches that burned there all night. They had not heard the strange cries from the hills. As she entered the great hall, she heard the cry again. "Go," she said to the little Syrian maid, **go in one Rising inflection is prospective; falling inflection is retrospective; monotone is suspensive. — Lewis B. Monroe. I 226 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, direction and I will go in another, and search out Zoroaster, the high priest, and bring him." The girl turned and ran through the halls, and Ne- hushta went another way upon her search. On and on she went till she came to her own apartment. Not so much as one white-robed priest had she seen. Some- thing within her told her that she was in great danger, and the calm she had seen in the palace could not allay the terror of that cry she had heard three times from the hills. Just then the Syrian maid came running in, and fell breathless at Nehushta's feet. *^ Fly, fly, beloved mistress," she cried; "the devils of the mountains are upon us — they cover the hills — they are closing every entrance — the people in the lower pal- ace are all slain." " Where is Zoroaster?" " He is in the temple with the priests — by this time he is surely slain — he could know of nothing that is go- ing on — fly, fly!" cried the girl. "On which side are they coming?" asked Nehushta. " From the hills; from the hills they are descending in thousands," cried the frightened slave-women. " Go you all to the farther window," commanded Ne- hushta. " Leap down upon the balcony — it is scarce a man's height, — follow it to the end and past the corner where it joins the main wall of the garden. Run along upon the wall till you find a place where you can de- scend. Through the gardens you can easily reach the road. Fly, and save yourselves in the darkness." But before she had half finished, the last of the slave-women, mad with terror, disappeared. " Why do you not go with the rest?" asked Nehushta of the Syrian maid. A man shrinks /ro7n the object he is considering whenever it inspires him Tvith a feeling of repulsion. He shrinks from it particularly wheti it inspires him with fright. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 227 ** I have eaten thy bread, shall I leave thee in the hour of death?" asked the slave. "Go, child," replied Nehushta. " I have seen thy de- votion; thou must not perish." But the Syrian leaped to her feet as she answered: "I am a bondwoman, but I am a daughter of Israel, even as thou art. Though all the others leave thee, I will not. It may be that I can help thee." "Thou art a brave child," said Nehushta. "I must go to Zoroaster; stay thou here, hide thyself among the curtains, escape by the window if any come to harm thee." She turned and went rapidly out. But the maid grasped the knife in her girdle, and stole upon her mistress's steps. The din rose louder every moment — the shrieks of wounded women with the moaning of wounded men, the clash of swords and arms, and, occasionally, a quick, loud rattle, as half a dozen arrows struck the wall together. Onward flew Nehushta. She shuddered as she passed the head of the great staircase and heard a wild shriek that died suddenly into a gurgling death-hiss. She paused as she reached the temple-door, and listened. Faintly through the thick walls she could hear the sound of the evening chant. The priests were all within with Zoroaster, unconscious of their danger. Nehushta tried the door. The great bronze gates were locked, and though she pushed with her whole strength, they would not move a hair's breadth. " Press the nail nearest the middle," said a small voice. Nehushta started. It was the little Syrian slave. She put her hand upon the round head of the nail and pressed. The door opened, turning noislessly upon its hinges. The seventy priests, in even rank. Each hitpression needs but one expression^ so do not multiply gestures. Gesture should not usurp the office of speech,, otherwise it becomes pantomime. — Genevieve Stebbins. 228 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, stood round. Solemnly the chant rose around the sa- cred fire upon the black stone altar. Zoroaster stood before it, his hands lifted in prayer. But Nehushta with a sudden cry broke their melody: ^^ Zoroaster — fly— there is yet time! The enemy are come in thousands; they are in the palace. There is barely time!" The high priest turned calmly, ^his face unmoved, although all the priests ceased their chanting and gathered about their chief in fear. As their voices ceased, a low roar was heard from without, as though the ocean were beating at the gates. ^' Go thou and save thyself," said Zoroaster. " I will not go. If it be the will of the All-Wise that I perish, I will perish before this altar. Go thou quickly, and save thyself while there is yet time." But Nehushta took his hand in hers, and gazed into his calm eyes. '^ Know^est thou not, Zoroaster, that I would rather die with thee than live with any other? I swear to thee, by the God of my fathers, I will not leave thee!" ^' There is no more time!" cried the Syrian maid. "There is no more time! Ye are all dead men! Be- hold, they are breaking down the doors!" As she spoke, the noise of some heavy mass striking against the bronze gates echoed like thunder through the temple, and at each blow a chorus of hideous yells rose, wild and long drawn out. " Can none of you save Zoroaster?" cried Nehushta. But Zoroaster gently said: "Ye cannot save me, for my hour is come; we must die like men, and like priests of the Lord before His altar;" and, raising one hand to heaven, he chanted: Dramatic singing is dangerous to the vocal organism: particularly when one practices the shriek or scream^ which produces a fine ejfect when skilful- ly employed^ but is most pernicious when used in ^jt^t^j-j-.— Delsarte. i DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 229 CHANT OF ZOROASTER. ilatstoso, Marcatomarzial. Composed by S.G.Pbatt. > S :^ g jT^ J ^71^ -p^-gH ^^=J^ :t=^ Praise we the all wise God, Who hath made and created the years and the a - ges ; Praise Him who rides on death, in whose EmpJiasize. isr i fe=5^ -m ^ T=F :fc=^- -•— #- * * s ^—^^•- lis hand are all power and honor and glory ; Who made the day of w I^ S' -t>gl- ~w 3: 9^.=! I^ l^i^g i^ ?i9- ;1^;&- /> -Z5^- ^--fc-N: dim.z -zr ^B L^ £5 ls=jv l±3t N— 1- ;i±at i fej life that should rise up and lighten the shadow of death. t^. '4^^-- I 'eS^- -rr / -^ I^- — ^— ^ 256 DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK, meet partners at centre, G, and turn off to D and F. Repeat. 15, 14, 13, 12, II, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3> 2, I. Diagram II. IV. Turn on F and D and around the square to B, where the entire company falls into single line, march G — E — D — C — B — A — F. Take positions according to Diagram II. (No. 16 can step behind a screen until marching be- gins again.) V. The teacher, or a girl chosen to read the poem, now gives the following orders: 1. Present Arms. Swords held with both hands in front of face. 2. Shoulder Arms. Swords on right shoulder. 3. Carry Arms. Swords at right side. 4. Charge. High overhead. 5. Shoulder Arms. Same as No. 2. 6. Ground Arms. Points touch floor. 7. Attack. Overhead, points to right. 8. Retreat. Right foot thrown back, right hand covering face, point of sword down. 9. Surrender. Fall on knees, handle of sword to audience. 10. Carry Arms. Same as No. 3. 11. Sheathe Arms. Swords put in a case made of stiffened cloth on left side. \^MMsic ceases^ The poem is read and class go through it in panto- mime. The head^ considered in its three direct poses^ presents three conditions or j states: when facing the object contemplated^ it presents the normal state:, bent forward and in the direction of the object ^ it presents the concentric state; raised and considering the object fro7n above^ it presefits the eccentric state. — Delsarte. I . ^ DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 257 Explanation of Abbreviated Gesture Terms Used IN Pantomime. • w. b. f. = weight to back foot. w. f. f. = weight to front foot, r. h. p. = right hand prone. 1. h. p. rrr left hand prone. r. h. su. — right hand supine. b. h. su. = both hands supine, b. h. p. — both hands prone. opp. = opposition of head and hand. VI. w.h.f. Half a league^ half a league, r. h. p. ^ strokes. Half a league onward, All in the valley of death b.n.su. Rode the six hundred. w.f.f.'' Charge r was the captain's cry. {shtZkt'''^' Theirs not to make reply; r. h. 2nd stroke, w.b.f. Theirs nol to reason why; r.h.p. Theirs but to do, and dle:^^,^;i^^^SIl7'^'' Into the valley of dealh b.n.p. Rode the six hundred, opp. w././. Cannon to right of them,r.7i.p. Cannon to left of them, i.h.p. Cannon in front of them, h k. vertical. Volleyed and thundered: hoia same position, w.b.f. Stormed at with shot and shell, l n. covers face Boldly they rode and well; b.h.ievei. Into the jaws of death, b.h.p. Into the mouth of hell, 2nd stroke. Rode the six hundred, opp. Flashed dill their sabres hare, Z7r he ad. ^^ 2nd stroke, icithsicords. Flashed as they turned in air, f"'^^^'^'^^^- Tke history of passion presents three phases: first., passion in its concen- trated form; second, passion in its expansible form; third., the Prostration ivhich follo7vs fro7n that expansion. In proportion to the intensity of the con- centration ivill be the force of the expansion and the completeness of the pros- tration that foiio^us.ST'E'E.v.n Mackaye. 258 DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. Sabring the gunners there, SfAr!"'' ^'"'^ Charging an army, while fS^SSS"^"^ h{\ \\i^ ^ov\& W07idered ! i.h.su. Plunged in the battery-^;;^^^^, Sd'''''''''^'''' Right through the line they broke ^'^nd stroke. Cossack and Russian Reeled from the sabre-stroke, fa^fUSig'sLZ:''' Shattered and sundered, sivords thrown to jioor. Position. Then they rode back; but not — Not the six hundred. oW' w.f.f. Cannon to right of them, eyes to right. Cannon to left of ihtm, eyes to uft. Cannon behind them, exjes over left shoulder. Volleyed and thundered: /^o^dposiYtou. Stormed di). with shot and shell, 5:.-^rco^^/;|%t, w.h.f. While horse and htro fell, h.h. p. They that had fought so well r.h. overhead. Came through the jaws of death, t.h.p. Back from the mouth of hell, 2nd s^ro^e. All that was left of them — b.h.su. Left of six hundred, 'n.nd stroke. When can their glory fade? r.h.su. Oh, the wild charge they made! 2nd stroke. All the world wondered, h. h.su. Honor the charge they made! r.h.su. Honor the Light Brigade., — 2nd stroke higher. Noble six hundred! ^rd stroke overhead. [Music begins.'] At the command *^ recover arms," each girl steps back, takes sword from floor, and carries it at right side. VII. Left face, single file (Diagram I.), march D — C — When we sing., lei us not forget that the prelude, the refrain, is the spirit- ual expression of the snns!^: we insist caiise our hearers to foresee hy the expres- sion of our face the thought and the ivords that are to folloiv — the auditor should he dazzled hy a sone that he has not yet heard^ hut that he dij'ines or thinks thai he divines. — Dkt.sarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 259 B — A — F — E. From E, No, i begins circle, winding it smaller on every round until she reaches centre. Turn- ing there, she retraces her steps until company is brought into one large circle. VIII. (Diagram I.) Single file. March B— G— E. Odd numbers file left, even numbers file right. Form two circles, one within the other. March around twice; the third time halt at partners. March, even numbers to right, odd to left, in and out, making the chain, twice around. Halt at partners. Inner circle "about face;" march, double file, around circle twice. IX. (Diagram I.) Double file. March B— G— E. Odd numbers file right, march F — A — B; even numbers file left, march D — C — B, lines meeting at B. Front face. March to front in straight, solid rank. Company dividing into fours, wheel. No. i pivoting, No. 4 making outer circle of wheel. No. 5 pivoting, No. 8 making circle, and so on. Number from end of line. Wheel twice. In third round stop half way, back to audience= March in solid rank to rear of stage. Nos. 4, 8, 12, 16 wheel backward into straight line, front face. At com- mand '* front line advance," odd numbers step front, even numbers keep position. X. Music changes to a soft, slow melody in f time. Swords are raised slowly overhead, right hand higher than left; right foot advanced; head on right shoulder; eyes down. Lines sway slowly from right to left through twelve measures, counting six to each move- ment. Swords raised straight overhead; eyes front. Both lines advance with dance movement to front of stage. Turn right, keeping same step; leave stage in couples. t ^ 1 Our gesticulation ts a muscular vocabulary which interprets for us the \ fluctuations in force ^ energy ^ and passion^ in thought and reason^ in aff^ec- \tion and volition, — Mrs. Edna Snell Poulson. 26o DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, THE KITCHEN CLOCK. John Vance Cheney. NITTING is the maid o' the kitchen, Milly; Doing nothing, sits the chore boy, Billy; " Seconds reckoned, Seconds reckoned; Every minute. Sixty in it, Milly, Billy, Billy, Milly, Tick-tock, tock-tick, Nick-knock, knock-nick, Knockety-nick, nickety-knock," Goes the kitchen clock. Close to the fire is rosy Milly, Every vi^hit as close and cosy, Billy; " Time's a-flying. Worth your trying; Pretty Milly — Kiss her, Billy! Milly, Billy, Billy, Milly, Tick-tock, tock-tick, Now — now, quick — quick! Knockety-nick, nickety-knock," Goes the kitchen clock. Something's happened, very red is Milly; DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 261 ^ Billy boy is looking very silly; " Pretty misses, Plenty kisses; Make it twenty, Take a plenty, Billy, Milly, Milly, Billy, Right-left, left-right, That's right, all right, Knockety-nick, nickety-knock," Goes the kitchen clock. Weeks gone, still they're sitting, Milly, Billy; Oh, the winter winds are wondrous chilly; " Winter weather, Close together; Wouldn't tarry, Better marry, Milly, Billy, Billy, Milly, Two — one, one — two. Don't wait, 'twon't do, Knockety-nick, nickety-knock," Goes the kitchen clock. Winters two are gone, and where is Milly? Spring has come again, and where is Billy? " Give me credit, For I did it; Treat me kindly, Mind you wind me. Mister Billy, Mistress Milly, Itnagine yourself an artist^ your /ace the clay to be inolded into an exalted expression: but^ as with the artist^ a tnere mechanical molding will not suc- ceed — the form 7nust come from a high ideal within. — G'e.k'EWIkx'E. Stebbins. 262 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. My — oh, oh — my! By-by, by-by, Nickety-knock, cradle rock," Goes the kitchen clock. MAMMY'S LI'L' BOY. H. S. Edwards. [This recitation, which is destined to become very popular, is greatly improved by singing or rather crooning the stanza beginning " Byo baby boy," as one would sing it when trying to hush a child to sleep. — Editor.] ^yi rnO all time dodgin' en de cott'n en de corn? Mamm.y's liT boy, mammy's liT boy! Who all time stealin' ole massa's dinner-horn? Mammy's li'l' baby boy. Byo baby boy, oh bye, By-o liT boy! Oh, run ter es mammy En she tek 'im in 'er arms. Mammy's li'l' baby boy. I : 1 How many things does the shoulder reveal by those slight changes unnoticed by ignorant persons^ and expressing particularly the delicate and exquisite charm of spiritual relations! It is the laiv of infinitesiinal quantities or those scarcely perceptible movements or sensations that characterize the finer relations of people of culture^ of eloquence^ of grace ^ and of refined tastes. — Delsarte. 4- : ^ DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 263 Who all time runnin' ole gobble roun' de yard? Mammy's liT boy, mammy's li'l' boy! Who tek 'e stick 'n hit ole possum dog so hard? Mammy's liT baby boy. Byo baby boy, oh bye, By-o li'l' boy! Oh, run ter es mammy En climb up en 'er lap, Mammy's li'l' baby boy. Who all time stumpin' es toe ergin er rock? Mammy's li'l' boy, mammy's li'l' boy! Who all the time er-rippin' big hole en es frock? Mammy's liT baby boy. Byo baby boy, oh bye, By-o liT boy^! Oh, run ter es mammy En she wipe es li'l' eyes, Mammy's li'l' baby boy. Who all time er-losin' de shovel en de rake? Mammy's li'l' boy, mammy's li'l' boy! Who all de time tryin ter ride 'e lazy drake? Mammy's li'l' baby boy. Byo baby boy, oh bye, By-o li'l' boy! Oh, scoot fer yer mammy En she hide yer f'om yer ma, Mammy's li'l' baby boy. Who all de time er-trottin' ter de kitchen fer er bite? Mammy's li'l' boy, mammy's li'l' boy! The vian who threatens ivith the shoulder is more passionate; but he is not the agent ^ he is passive. — Delaumosne, 264 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, Who mess 'esef wi' taters twell his clothes dey look er sight? Mammy's liT baby boy. Byo baby boy, oh bye, By-o liT boy! En 'e run ter es mammy Per ter git 'im out er trouble, Mammy's liT baby boy. Who all time er-frettin' en de middle er de day? Mammy's liT boy, mammy's liT boy! Who all time er-gettin' so sleepy 'e can't play ? Mammy's liT baby boy. Byo baby boy, oh bye, By-o liT boy! En 'e come ter es mammy Ter rock 'im en 'er arms, Mammy's liT baby boy. Shoo, shoo, shoo-shoo-shoo. Shoo, shoo, shoo! Shoo, shoo, shoo-shoo-shoo. Shoo, liT baby, shoo! Shoo, shoo, shoo-shoo-shoo. Shoo, shoo, shoo. Shoo .... Deir now, lay right down on mammy's bed en go 'long back ter sleep, — shoo-shoo! . . . Look hyah, nigger, go way f'om dat do'! You wake dis chile up wid dat jewsharp, en I'll wear yer out ter frazzles! — Sh-h-h-h— ^ 4. A commotion that produces a strong impression^ communicates to the arms an ascending motion which Tuay lift them high above the head. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 265 CIVIL WAR. Translated by Lucy H. Hooper. b n["'HE mob was fierce and furious. They cried: ^* Kill him!" the while they pressed from ever} side Around a man, haughty, unmoved, and brave, Too pitiless himself to pity crave. " Down with the wretch!" on all sides rose the cry; The captive found it natural to die. The game is lost — he's on the weaker side, Life, too, is lost, and so must fate decide. From out his home they dragged him to the street, With fiercely clinching hands and hurrying feet And shouts of ^* Death to him!" The crimson stain Of recent carnage on his garb showed plain. This man was one of those who blindly slay At a king's bidding. He'd shot men all day. Killing he knew not whom, he scarce knew why. Now marching forth, impassible, to die. A woman clutched his collar with a frown, ** He's a policeman — he has shot us down!" '' That's true," the man said. " Kill him!" "Shoot him!'^ "Kill!" "No, at the arsenal"— " The Bastile!"—" Where you will," The captive answered. And with fiercest breath, Loading their guns, his captors still cried " Death!" " We'll shoot him like a wolf!" " A wolf am I? Then you're the dogs," he calmly made reply. t . — : : Clavicular breathing brings the chest or viental zone into action. It is a hysteric vtethod^ only to be used ivhen the dramatic situation demands sob- bings gasping utterance. — Genevieve Stebbins. 266 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. " Hark, he insults us!" And from every side Clinched fists were shaken, angry voices cried. Within his eyes a gleam of baffled hate. He went, pursued by howlings, to his fate. Treading with wearied and supreme disdain 'Midst forms of dead men he, perchance, had slain. He would have shot them all had he the power. " Kill him — he's fired upon us for an hour!" " Down with the murderer — down with the spy!" And suddenly a small voice made reply, ^ " No — no, he is my father!" And a ray Like to a sunbeam seemed to light the day, A child appeared, a boy with golden hair. His arms upraised in menace or in prayer. All shouted, '' Shoot the bandit, fell the spy!" The little fellow clasped him with a cry Of " Papa, papa, they'll not hurt you now!" The light baptismal shone upon his brow. From out the captive's home had come the child. Meanwhile the shrieks of "Kill him — death!" rose wild; And in the street ferocious shouts increased Of '' Slay each spy — each minister — each priest, We'll kill them all!" The little boy replied: '' I tell you this is papa." One girl cried: " A pretty fellow — see his curly head!" *' How old are you, my boy?" another said, "Do not kill papa!" only he replies. A soulful lustre lights his streaming eyes. Some glances from his gaze are turned away, And the rude hands less fiercely grasp their prey. ^ — : ■ — ■ ^ As soon as surprise is great enough to raise the shoulders and the arms^ the head takes an inverse direction: it sinks, and seems anxious to become solid, to offer more resistance.— Dki^sartk. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 267 Then one of the most pitiless says, " Go — Get you back home, boy." ** Where — why?" "Don't you know? Go to your mother." Then the father said, " He has no mother." " What — his mother's dead? Then you are all he has?" '* That matters not," The captive answers, losing not a jot Of his composure as he closely pressed The little hands to warm them in his breast. And says, '^Our neighbor, Catherine, you know, Go to her." " You'll come, too ?" " Not yet." '' No, no, Then I'll not leave you." " Why?'* *' These men, I fear, Will hurt you, papa, when I am not here." The father to the chieftain of the band Says softly: " Loose your grasp and take my hand, I'll tell the child to-morrow we shall meet, Then you can shoot me in the nearest street, Or farther off, just as you like." *' 'Tis well!" The words from those rough lips reluctant fell; And, half unclasped, the hands less fierce appear. The father says, " You see, we're all friends here, I'm going with these gentlemen to walk; Go home. Be good. I have no time to talk." The little fellow, reassured and gay, Kisses his father and then runs away. ** Now he is gone, and we are at our ease, And you can kill me where and how you please," The father says: '' Where is it I must go?" Then through the crowd a long thrill seems to flow, The lips, so late with cruel wrath a-foam, Relentingly and roughly cry: ** Go home!" Sound is painting^ or it is nothing. It should be in ajffinity with the sub- ject. — Delaumosne. 268 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. THE BABY'S FIRST TOOTH. IV yTR. and Mrs. Jones had just finished their breakfastc Mr. Jones had pushed back his chair and was looking under the lounge for his boots. Mrs. Jones sat at the table, holding the infant Jones, and mechanically working her forefinger 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 sharply on the side of the lounge as he did so, and getting on his feet, in- quired what was the matter. "O Ephraim!" said she, the tears rolling down her cheeks and smiles coursing up. ^' Why, what is it, Aramathea? " said the astonished Mr. Jones, smartly rubbing his head where it had come in contact with the lounge. ^'Baby!" she gasped. Mr. Jones turned pale and the perspiration started. "Baby! O — O — O Ephraim! Baby has — baby has got — a little toothey, oh, oh! '* "No! " screamed Mr. Jones, spreading his legs apart, dropping his chin, and staring at the struggling heir with all his might. " I tell you it is," persisted Mrs. Jones, with a slight evidence of hysteria. " Oh, it can't be! " protested Mr. Jones, preparing to swear if it wasn't. " Come here and see for yourself," said Mrs. Jones. A man considers an object with head raised when he considers it imith a feeling of pride. It is thus that he rules them or exalts them. — Delsartk. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 269 "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 its mouth sufficiently for the father to thrust in his finger, and that gentle- man having convinced himself by the most unmistakable evidence 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 should like to see 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 trem- blingly 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 from two guns. Mrs. Simmons at once snatched the heir from the arms of Mr. Jones and hur- ried it to the window, where she made a careful and critical examination 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 future could be entertained on account of its coming in the new of the moon, Mrs. Jones got out the necessary materials, 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, while the unconscious cause of the excitement, after viewing mat- ters calmly for a time, opened its mouth and took things Man reveals his life through more than four millions of inflections ere he can speak or £esticulate.^DKi.AUMOSiiE» 270 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. into its own hands by remarking at first deprecatingly, and then with decided disapproval: ** Ah-h-h-day-ay- goo-oo-oo-po-o-o \energetically\ gaa-ah-ah-ya-ya-ah-nga- ah! " with which sentiments every parent agrees. THANKSGIVIN' PUMPKIN PIES. Margaret E. Sangster. to Thanksgivin' ! Thank you, neigh- CO you bid me *^ bor, it is kind, To keep a plain old body like myself so much in mind; Here I've been sittin* all alone, and a mist before my eyes, A-thinkin', like a simpleton, of mother's pumpkin pies. Yes, Fve just come home from Sarah's; come home Tm glad to say; And here, God helping me, I mean in future time to stay; Oh! Sarah's folks are very fine, but I felt all at sea. And though the rooms were 'mazin* big, they seemed too small for me. The house is like a palace, and mine's a tiny nest. But, neighbor, I'm contented here, I like this place the best; Just as Sarah's creams and salads I don't know how to prize; Her French cook costs a fortune, but / favor home- made pies, \ All arts are found in articulation. Sound is the articulation of the Tocal apparatus; gesture the artic7ilation of the dynamic apparatus: language the articulation of the buccal apparatus. Therefore., music, the plastic arts,, and speech have their origin and their perfection in articulation. — Delsarte, ; DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK, 271 Like mother's; flaky, rich and brown, and toothsome with the spice; I grew to loathe her dinners, cut in half v/ith lemon ice: Give me good food, biled greens and pork, and turkey now and then; I tell you on our mountain fare we've raised a race of men. Not spindlin' like them city folks, in dress-suits if you please, An' mincin' in their low-cut shoes, an* bowin' to their knees. I hate such silly airs; I like to hear a hearty word; No! I'm not deaf, but when one speaks, why, speak so's to be heard. In Sarah's house 'twas ^^ aunty this" and ''aunty that," until I saw I made a discord, let me do my best; 'an still I'm sure the child loves aunty, but, neighbor, she and I Are far apart and nohow could our ways again draw nigh. She wears her black silk every day, a-trailin' on the ground, Leastwise, a-trailin' on the floor; 'tis called, I b'lieve, tea-gowned. An' frills an' lace, 'an hot-house flowers; such waste, it worried me, Rememberin' Jotham Peckham's kin, as poor as poor could be. Rememberin' Jotham Peckham, I was vexed to see his child, 4, ^ Men 0/ small brain habitually carry their heads high. The head is loiv- ered in proportion to the quantity of intelligence. — Delaumosne. 272 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. A-throwin' money here and there; it made me fairly wild. Her house, it's just like Barnum's, with jimcracks every. where, When pa and me the children took to see the wonders there. How I run on! Well, thank you, neighbor; I see you want to go; I'm comin' to Thanksgivin'; your good old w^ays I know. An* my mouth waters, dear old friend, there's tears in these dim eyes. For I shall taste the flavor of mother's pumpkin pies. And though I'm 'most threescore and ten, an' cranky, I'm afraid, Once more I'll feel myself a child, my mother's little maid; And I'll be very pleased to help, in any way I can; Good-bye, dear, and my love to Ruth; a kiss to Mary Ann. OL^ PICKETTS NELL. Mather D. Kimball. TI^EEL more 'an ever like a fool Sence Pickett's Nell come back from school. She oncet wuz twelve 'nd me eighteen 'Nd better friends you never seen; But now — oh, my! She's dressed so fine, 'nd growed so tall, 'Nd I'arnin' — she jes knows it all. ^ — . I A hasty delivery is by no means proo/ of animation^ wannth^ /ire^ passton^ or emotion in the orator; hence in delivery^ as in tone, haste is in an inverse ratio to emotion. We do not glide lightly over a beloved subject; a prolonga- I tion of tone is the expression of love. — Delsarte. ^ . DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 273 She' s eighteen now, but I'm so slow Fm whar I wuz six year ago. Six year! Waal, waal! doan't seem a week Sence we rode Dolly to th' creek, 'Nd fetched th' cattle home at night. Her hangin' to my jacket tight. . But now — oh, my! She rides in Pickett's new coopay Jes like she'd be'n brung up thet way, 'Nd lookin' like a reg'lar queen — Th' mostest like I ev.er seen. She uster tease, 'nd tease, 'nd tease Me fer to take her on my knees; Then tired me out 'ith Marge'y Daw, 'Nd laffin tell my throat wuz raw. But now — oh, my! She sets up this way — kinder proud, 'Nd never noways laughs out loud. You w'u'd n't hardly think thet she Hed ever see-sawed on my knee. 'Nd sometimes, ef at noon I'd choose To find a shady place 'nd snooze, I'd wake with burdocks in my hair 'Nd elderberries in my ear. But now — oh, my! Somebody said ('twuz yesterday): " Let's hev some fun w'ile Ned's away; Let's turn his jacket inside out! " But Nell — she'd jes turn red 'nd pout. . ^ In a production of art whose subject and viaterials he in the dotnain of un- [ reclaimed nature^ ge^iius is not permitted to falsify any fundamental prin- I cipie or fact ^ but is free to modify and add. Other^uise, the creative func- I tion of art is gone, and only imitation is left. — Rev, W. R. Alger. | 4- ^ 274 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 'Nd oncet when I wuz dreamin'-like, A-throwin' akerns in th' dike, She put her arms clean round my head, 'Nd whispered soft, " I like you, Ned;" But now — oh, my! She courtesied so stiff 'nd grand, 'Nd never oncet held out her hand, 'Nd called me " Mister Edward! " Laws! Thet ain't my name, 'nd never wuz. 'Nd them 'at knowed 'er years ago Jes laughed t' see 'er put on so; Coz it wuz often talked, 'nd said, " Nell Pickett's jes cut out fer Ned.'* But now — oh, my! She held her purty head so high, 'Nd skasely saw me goin' by — I w'u'd n't dast (afore last night) A-purposely come near her sight. Last night, ez I was startin' out To git th' cows, I heerd a shout; 'Nd, sure ez ghostses, she wuz thar, A-settin' on ol' Pickett's mar'; 'Nd then — oh, my! She said she 'd cried fer all th' week To take th' ol' ride to th' creek; Then talked about ol' times, 'nd said, '' Them days w^uz happy, wa'n't they, T^ed? " Th' folks wuz talkin' ev'rywhars 'Bout her a-puttin' on sech airs, 'Nd seemed t' me like they wuz right, Afore th' cows come home last night. But now — oh, my! The speaker or singer should knoiv how to diminish tone without contract- ing the back part of the mouth. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 275 JIMMY BROWN'S DOG. William L. Alden. Arranged by Elsie M. Wilbor. ]\ /TR. TRAVERS had told me mornamillion times ^^^ that, after he should be married to Sue, I was to come to live with him. Sue heard him say it lots of times, for I remember she always used to say, "' Pshaw! don't be perfectly ridiculous; Fd like to catch myself living within a hundred miles of that boy after I leave this house." So it was all perfectly understood; and I never dreamed for a minute that Mr. Travers wasn't in earnest, and I was surprised that they did not ask me to go with them the day they were married. A few weeks after the wedding, father made all his arrangements for going, to Europe, and I was to go and stay with Mr. Travers for a year, and go to school. Mr. Travers wrote that, ^' I will meet your son at the station next Tuesday and take charge of him while you are gone, though I will not answer for the consequences, as Susan is in a nervous state, and I do not think her sys- tem requires boys." I copied this from his letter, be- cause I wanted to ask him what he meant by the "con- sequences," but I forgot to do it. The day before father and mother started I was sent to Mr. Travers's with a trunk of my own, and a beautiful young bull-dog that was given me for a parting present. The dog was in a box with holes in it, and he growled elegantly every time anybody touched the box. I took him out as soon as the train started, and the first thing he did was to take a splendid big piece out of the leg of my trousers. Then he sat up on the seat and growled till the conductor came along and said, " Boy, whose ^ . ^ I The legs have their gamuts ranging front repose out into extreme emotions. I The trunk contains the grand central tones of the man. The arms are varied in their expression from the expansiveness of vitality to the contractibility of\ I thought.— FKAi^Km^ H. Sargent. | + ^ — ________„ — ™ ^ — ^ ^ 276 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, dog is that? No dogs allowed here. You must put him back into that box, and be quick about it. Tickets, gentlemen/' But I told him that I didn't think that the dog wanted to go back, and I was afraid it would make trouble if anybody tried to make him change his mind. The conductor said he didn't care what the dog wanted, but that he was going back into that box inside of three seconds, or he'd know the reason why. So he tried to take him by the neck, but the dog was too quick for him, and after taking a little piece out of his hand, hid under the seat. The conductor called a brakeman, and the two began to hunt the dog. If the dog had kept quiet, they wouldn't have found him; but he was a little angry at the way he was treated, and I don't blame him, for nobody likes to be poked with sticks, and told to ^^ come here, you brute " and **get out of there now, will you." So every little while he would take hold of somicbody's leg, and you would hear a dreadful yell, and would know just where the dog was; but by the time the conductor and the brake- man got there, the dog would have got through with that particular leg, and would be in another part of the car selecting another leg. When we arrived at our station the dog let me carry him. The passengers growled more than the dog did, and some of those who had been bitten said that I ought to be killed; but I never pay much attention to what angry people say, they are so unreasonable. Mr. Travers met me at the station, and said, *' Oh! it's you, is it?"^ This wasn't a very nice welcome, but I didn't mind that, for presently he said, "That dog looks sick, Jimmy. We'll stop in at the apothecary's and get a dose of medi- The acmistic organs should have nothing to do ivith the transmission of\ sound. They must be passive so that the tone rnay be continuous and smooth, — Delsarte. I A . ^ ■ ^ — — 4- DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 277 cine for him/* This was just kind as it could be. The dog was pretty sick, though I hadn't noticed it, for he died that night. When we went into the apothecary's, Mr. Travers said to the young man behind the counter, "William, I think this dog is in a pretty bad way. He looks pale. Don't you think that a little strychnine would do him good?" The young man said, "Yes, strychnine is a beautiful medicine for that kind of a dog." So he gave Mr. Travers a powder. I said to Mr. Travers that if the medicine was real good I should like to take some, but he said, "Jimmy, I am sure it would do you and your friends all the good in the world, and nothing would make me happier than to give the whole of it to you; but it's against the law for me to give medicine to anybody, and you must promise me never to taste the least bit of this kind of medicine while you're here." Sue was glad tD see me, and said, " So they did send you after all. I think it's so mean for parents to send their children away from home; there, don't kiss me, I've just put up my hair." After supper, Mr. Travers told me to run out to the barn and see the horses and cows. There were four horses, and two of them were all white. Indeed, they were a great deal paler than my dog, so I knew they must be ill. Then there was a large, pale cat, that had longer hair than any cat I ever saw. She looked as if she was more ill than the horses. One of the cows kept lowing in a way that made me feel sure that she had a dreadful pain, and I wished that I had some of Mr. Travers's medicine to give the poor, sick animals. By and by Mr. Travers came out into the backyard with a piece of meat and the paper of medicine, and I A fact of negation in a sentence does not, as a rule, change the emphasis. - Lewis B. Monroe. 2/8 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. said, ** Mr. Travers, won't you let me give some medicine to the horses and cows, Fm sure they don't feel well;" but he said, " I'm afraid, my young friend, that you are almost too bright to live long." Just then Sue called him, and he left the meat and the medicine on the bench. He had sprinkled a little of the medicine on the meat, and as I noticed the cat smelling the meat, I was on the point of giving her a piece of it, when I remembered that I had no right to interfere with Mr. Travers's own animals, so I just walked away. When I came back, I found that the cat and dog had eaten the meat between them, and one of the cows was smelling the rest of the medicine. I drove her away, but not until she had taken a good taste of it. I wrapped up what was left, and took it to Mr. Travers. He turned pale, and said, " You young rascal, you haven't taken any of that stuff, have you ?" and I said,** No, sir; I promised you I wouldn't, but the dog has been eating the meat." I was going to tell him about the cat and cow, but he laughed, and told me to run down to the village and bring him the letters. When I got home it was time to go to bed, and I was told that I couldn't see my dog that night for he was asleep, and it might injure him to wake him up after taking medicine. The next morning when we were at breakfast the coachman came in and said, ** If you please, Mr. Travers, the new dog is pizined." "What do you mean ?" exclaimed Mr. Travers; " is he really hurt?" " Yis, sorr," said the man; " he's hurt pretty bad. To tell you the truth, sorr, they're both dead." I The vocal tube must not vary any more for the loud tone than for the loiv tone. The opening must be the same. The loiv tone must have the power of the loud tone, since it is to be equally understood.— Tf'Ei.SARTK. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 279 *^ What on earth are you talking about?" said Mr. Travers. ^* The dog and the Angora cat, sorr; the pair of them is both very near entirely dead," replied the coachman, *^ and the Alderney cow doesn't seem to be altogether livin' this mornin'." Mr. Travers didn't v^ait to hear any more, but seized his hat, and started for the barn. I v^ent too. I found my dear dog lying dead. Betv^een the dog and the barn was the cat, and she was as dead as he was. I saw Mr. Travers looking as if he wanted to kill a few people to keep the animals company. I said, '^ Mr. Travers! I know who has poisoned all the animals; it was that young man in the apothecary's shop." "What do you mean by that, Jimmy ?" asked Mn Travers, very savagely. *^ I mean, sir," said I, " that he must have given you poison instead of medicine, for my dog took it and now he's dead, and I saw the cat and the Alderney cow taste it, and they're dead." Mr. Trav- ers took me by the collar and dragged me up to my room and locked the door without saying a word. Now I acknowledge that I did wrong in not letting Mr. Travers know that the cow and the cat had taken the medicine, but that was all I did. It was just forgetful- ness, and that isn't so dreadfully bad. I never had the least idea that the medicine would do any harm, and 1 should have taken a little myself if Mr. Travers had not made me promise not to do so. I think that he ought to have looked at it as I did, and blamed nobody but the young man at the apothecary's shop, who, instead of giving him strychnine, must have given him something poisonous; but, instead of doing this, Mr. Travers gave iThe harmonic law of rhythju is: Cooperative tJiovements in opposition ivill be in their velocity in the exact ratio of the length of the radii of the agents moving. — Steele Mackaye, 28o DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. me a terrible scolding, and said I was a young Cain, and kept me shut up in my room for three days, and gave me nothing but bread and water. This was the begin- ning of coolness between us, for I resolved that I would not overlook such conduct, unless he should ask me to forgive him. But we will say no more of this painful subject, for I don't like to think of those poor animals cut off in their prime, and without any time for reflection. I suppose the dog is better off now than when he was alive, for he was a sweet, good animal; but I don^t think that cats have a good time after they are gone, for they are cruel and wicked, except when they're little. THE ROMANCE OF A YEAR. Mrs. John Sherwood. Spring. T_T OW gracefully the young Bertine With Jaques, her lover, dances; See how like sunbeams 'neath the trees She flies, and then advances; And yet she sings in a minor key The old Provengal melody, " Tais-toi^ mon cceur! Adieu ^ man cwurT As if some sadness came to her With love's dear smiles and glances. // is through the voice we please an audience. If we have the ear o/ an auditor., we easily win his mind and heart. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 281 The Sieur de Courcy comes that way And 'neath the walnut lingers, He marks her instep clean and high, Her white and dainty fingers; He hears her sing in a minor key The old Provengal melody, *' Tais-toiy man cceurl Adieu^ 7non cceurT And thinks, as he fondly looks at her, Of the lays of the Minnesingers. But hark, the call! the conscript drum! And Jaques, the number chosen; No wonder that Bertine is dumb, The blood in her bosom frozen. Brave Jaques strikes up in a stronger key The old Provengal melody, *' Tats- tot, mon cceurl Adieu, mon coeurT And looking fondly back at her. He said, *^ Dear love, be true to me." Summer. The king said gaily, ^* Je m'ennuie," Nor heard if the people grumbled; What cared that gallant majesty If some plain lives were humbled? The next age sang in a different key, " TaiS'toi, mon cceurl Adieu, mon coeurT Of Pompadour and the Pare aux Cerfs, And greeted the great with a bitter laugh When heads in the basket tumbled. ■ ^ ^ ^ The voice should resemble the painter^ s palette^ where all the colors are ar- ranged in an orderly tnanner^ according to the affinities of each. — Delau- MOSNE. 282 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, For when the sun lay on the vines Bertine the grapes was tying, The tendril round her brow entwines, The summer days were flying! Well may she sing in a minor key The old Provengal melody, " Tais-toi^ mon coeur! Adieu, man ccetirT' For the news was coming back to her Of the field where Jaques lay dying. What, then, was history but a page Of romance, love and glory? Chimeras of the golden age When life was worth the story! Woman still sings in the minor key The old Provengal melody, " Tais-toi, mon coeur! Adieu, mon coeur T That is the tale time tells to her, And will till he is hoary. Autumn. The Sieur de Courcy came to woo. His voice was low and tender; He drove the wolf and the king away — " Let me be thy defender!" And when she sang in a minor key The old Provengal melody, " Tais'toi, mon coeur! Adieu, mon coeur! The gentleman knelt down to her And kissed her fingers slender. The ear is the most delicate^ the most exacting of all our senses. The eye is far more tolerant. The eye may tolerate a bad gesture^ but the ear will not forgive a false note or a false inflection. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 283 ^^ Who is my rival?" laughed the king, His gallant gray eyes lighting; " Now, I will do a graceful thing! To show I bear her slighting! We'll change that mournful monody, The old Provengal melody, " Tais-foiy mon coeur! Adieu ^ mon coeurT And life shall not be spoiled for her Because my love is blighting!" ^ So went he forth to take the air. His perfumed locks were streaming, His brow was gay, as if no care Could blight that face so beaming. He sang, as he rode, in a minor key, The old Provengal melody, " Tais-toi^ mon coeur! Adieu ^ moft coeur T But took the road that led to her — The courtiers guessed his seeming. " I came," said he, as they bent the knee, " All doubts and cares to banish; Leave chains of rank and cares of state- — For one day — let them vanish! And, dear Bertine, sing now for me The old Provengal melody, * Tais-toty mon coeur! Adieu^ 7non coeur f And then he lightly told to her A drama from the Spanish. " Rise! my proud subject," said the king, " Rise! Marquis St. Aulare! ^ ^ [ The Delsarte System teaches us the philosophy and science for the infusion I I of the muscular tissues ivith the rhythmic pulses of the soul; it unfolds the method for the stimulation of the organism ivith spiritual energy. — Mrs. Edna Snell Poulson. 284 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. I give the title and the ring To this thy consort fair. Now all my courtiers sound the key Of the old Provengal melody, * Tais'toty man cceur! Adieu^ mon cceurf The king gave Courcy's hand to her, Who lover-like advances. ^ Winter. O'er castle wall, with banners hung, The crescent moon is creeping. And on the ground, in sadness flung, A mournful man is weeping. On a white cross — what words to see! — He reads the sad old monody, " Tais-toi^ mon coeurl AdieUy mon coeurT He breathes his last farewell to her, For there Bertine lies, sleeping. m rit. l^p|=i Tais - toi, mon coeur! A - dieu,moncceur! EE=f=^F^E^E=tE=lE^3 r=i^p^t=P^i-t=^i riL a ^ EfcS =r :=t ^. T/ie voice first manifests itself through sound; infection is an intentional modification of sound: respiration and silence are a means of exactly finding the suitable tone and infiection. — Delsarte. DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. 285 JOHN SPICER ON CLOTHES. Mrs. Abby Morton Diaz. T T is very good fun to take off your clothes and go in swimming. Clothes are the things that you wear. They have arms and legs to them, and ever so many buttonholes and buttons, and have pockets. Pockets are the best part of your clothes. We have two kinds of clothes, best ones and old ones. We hang up the best ones and wear the old ones. When you wear your best ones every day you most always get something on them. Once I hitched the picket of a picket-fence into the leg of some best clothes and pitched over head first, and the picket went through, and then I had to take that pair for every-day ones. Gudgeon grease that you get off of wheels will not come off very well. I do not mean it will not come off the wheels very well, but off your clothes. Ink spots stay on, but you can get paint off, if you can get anything to take it off with. Mud brushes off when it gets dry, and your mother doesn't say anything when you get mud on your every-day ones, but she does on your best ones. One time when I was a little fellow, when I w^as going to a party with two little fellows about as big as I was, and we had on our best clothes, we climbed up a tree to see if some birds' eggs had hatched out, and a dry twig on a branch tore a hole on one side of one of my trousers* legs, and T did not want to go back home because that pair was all the best pair of trousers I had. A big fel- low — he was not very big, but he was bigger than we little fellows — he told me to go to the party and keep my hand down over the hole, and I did, and somebody * ^ ^ Hh ! Gesture is harmonic through the viultiplicity of the agents that act in the same manner. This harmony is founded upon the convergence or opposition of the movements. — Delaumosne. 286 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, that was at the party asked me if my arm was lame, and I said, *^No, ma'am; " but when the ice-cream came round, I forgot and took away my hand to take the saucer in it, and that same one looked at it, and laughed some,, and she said: " Oh, now I see what the matter was with your arm! " and I laughed a little when she did, and she told me not to think any more about the hole then, but to have a good time and to think about the hole afterward, and I did. She told me a funny story about a hole that was torn. I will tell it: *^ Once there was a very small boy named Gussie, and he tore his clothes most every day, and his mother had mended them after he had gone to bed and he did not see her do it, and he thought the holes grew up of themselves in the night. And one day when his little cousin Susie tore her dress her mother told her not to tear, and cried, Gussie told her not to cry, for that hole would grow up again in the night, just as holes did in his clothes. And when Susie went to bed she put her dress over a chair to have the holes grow up, and first thing in the morning she went in her night-gown to look, and her mother found her standing there crying, and when her mother asked her what she was crying for, she said, * Because that hole did not grow together in the night. I thought it would grow up in the night.' " Once I had some mittens put away in some winter clothes. Mittens are clothes to wear on your hands, and hats are clothes to wear on your head. Once my aunt told me a hat riddle. I will say it: " Two poor little brothers they had but one hat, And both wore the same one, can you guess how was that? The pebble contains the sparky but ive must knoTv hoiv to produce it^ The phenomena of nature contain lessons^ but -we must know how to make them speak, and ho7ti to understand their language. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK, 287 Each boy had a head? Oh, yes! each had a head! And both heads had one hat on, as just has been said. Did one boy stay in? No, nothing like that! Both went out together, and both wore the hat. I'll tell you the answer. The hat was of straw. As old an old hat, sir, as ever you saw; It was torn round about, just under the band. And left in two parts; do you quite understand? And when these small brothers walked forth in the town Why, one wore the rim and the other the crown!" THE SHADOW OF A SONG. Campbell Rae- Brown. [The speaker is supposed to be alone in a room in his ancestral home, the last of his race. Since he had left, just a year ago, this same room, which was connected with the greatest sorrow of his life, had never been used, but had remained exactly as it was on that never-to- be-forgotten night. As the speaker enters, he looks round the apart- ment with a strange, half-startled air, shivers slightly, and seems al- most to be expecting some one to appear. With a dazed, dreamy look on his face, he seats himself on a sofa. Then he pauses, seeming lost in thought. — Music has been composed specially for this recitation, and can be obtained of the publisher of this book.] A/'ES, it is just one year ago to-night, ■^ And through my brain there tingles into life The self-same forms — the faces and the sound Of voices that I knew in those glad days — That seemed no longer than do minutes now. They were so full of joy, those old, dead hours. But I let a trifle leap into a thought. And grow and grow till it was past reclaim; No theory of the passions or mere mechanical drill in their expression can ever teach a man to be pathetic. Only a disagreeable mockery of it can thus come. Pathos is the one particular affection that knows no deceit, but comes in truth direct from the soul,, a^id goes direct to the sotil. — Rev. W. R. Alger, 288 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. I slipped it then as sportsmen slip their dogs, And coupled with it madness for its mate. They ran abreast as Jealousy and Pique Set on to chase my love down to its death. I steeped my brain in wretched, jealous dreams. When I awoke I called myself a cur! \^Slight pause. His twice tre??ibles as he goes on.^ But she had gone — this woman that I loved — I see that poor face now, drawn at the brows; Pain, like a vise, had crushed her to the quick. And yet amid that world of quivering w^oe, Two steady stars shone out — those calm gray eyes, Two planets, pure and passionless, that mocked The lurid fierceness of mine own mad heat. And thus we parted — heaven! when I think That in a month I would have called her v/ife! How hard it seems a man's whole life should be O'er-shadowed by a song/ Aye, it had been A love-dirge that her wondrous voice had sent From out the silver portals of her throat. As though 't had been a prayer so glorified 'Twould pierce its way on through the gates of heav'n. I slew my peace by bringing into life Some dearer rival in her love to me; I conjured up the ghost of some one gone — Some dead love that she held communion with, Through the sweet channel of a trembling song. I'd often come and sit to hear her sing, but once I stole with silent step to where she played. Dazzled by the radiance of the light 4- ^ We must retroact to see an object as a whole .—T>^\.sie been attained ivken I. a passive subject, obeyed an inner inspiration coming from whence I know not, and urging me on to results I had not aimed at. — Genevieve Stebbins. 294 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. giEiEtia '^^^^^m t; i-i-i- P ^^ i -#-•-« #— i<- 4-Jiriir4 =B =l=j:«:j±it:tf ■^- -^ — ^- « J/ !/ -•-•-•- =P=P=#=P=^ -N-t±: HP 9^ -• ^- 3!=^=N^ ^:e^:e-:^. Then rose the stately minuet, The soul of every courtly scene, Her slippered feet it led, and yet A heavy heart they bore, I ween; Two silver pages bore her train: She bowed, and slowly bowed again. [Imitate the entrance of guests after the stanza to the music of the minuet^ bowing with the rise and fall of the music as the salutation music suggests. The music may be played over as many times as is necessary for the panto i7iime imitation^ " Sir Robert Walpole !" loudly calls The fine old herald, bowing low. The expectant music fills the halls As comes the knight, sedate and slow. A form of velvet starred with gold, And noiseless step; he bows, and then The duchess' eye severe and cold To love art for art is to prefer the work to its object: it is to turn art from its end to the profit of the artist. — Delsarte. DELSARTE RECITATION BOOK. 295 Falls on him, and he bows again, And warmer now the astrals glow, And sweeter music's numbers flow. \Imitation to minuet. The introductory salutation music ^ "My Lord and Lady Castlewood!" " Lord Rochester !" rang through the hall; And while confused the herald stood Swept in the bishops grave and tall. And while played sweet the minuet, Gibraltar's hardy sea-kings came. And knights from Oudenarde, and yet Rolled on the herald's call of fame Till in the dusk and music sweet The hall was full of golden feet. ^Imitation to 7ninuet. The introductory salutation music.^ '^ Sir Isaac Newton!" Silent all. Not e'en the light of jewels swayed, A modest form shrank through the hall. Modest, yet one the stars had weighed. "Dean Swift !" the nimble parson came, " Daniel de Foe !" his ears were gone. The herald lost the last great name, Powdered, bewigged, came Addison, And low they bowed like courtiers gay. And bowed the prince as low as they. [Imitation as before. Music ceases^ Why comes the prince to England now, This son of France, old Austria's pride ? And why do whig and tory bow To him, the duchess at his side? 1 iThe 7nere bearings and poishigs of the body sway the beholder^ even ivhen pro- duced mechanically. — Franklin H, Sargent. 296 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. Earth has no friendships such as those Grand heroes form for noble ends; His soul had flamed as Marlborough rose, And war had wedded them as friends. 1 ^-%—%- =S jr l±^M^ w- -»— »- ^'i ^t^|t?-t=E -Q--9- -#--#1 m iipi S ^fe ^^p-__g>_g>«|^2_^:^ I You admire a ivork 0/ art when you find yourself in it; and if you ap- plaud^ it is only on the condition of your recognizing in it something of your own character. It is because it affects, at least partly, your ways, your tevi- perament. In a word, you love it as you love a mirror. — Delsaktr. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 297 And Marlborough, crushed by court and queen, Had touched the heart of Prince Eugene. "Lord Harley!'' All again was mute, The diplomat flashed 'crost the scene, And said obsequious, ^' I salute \77iinuef\ Earth's greatest soldier, Prince Eugene !" " Too soon, my lord! His grace comes late," The prince replied, and turned away, "The duke of Marlborough!" lost to state, Then came the chief of Malplaquet, Who once had swayed the lands and seas, From Pyrenees to Tyrolese. [^Imitatiofi as before.'] The music scarcely dared to play; The fallen hero of the land Moved slowly 'mid the throngs to lay In Prince Eugene's his war-browned hand. _ ^ Only tJirotigh r tiles can ive become J'7ee in our interpretation. — Delaumosne, 298 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. Not so,— the true heart knows its quest And love is strong when true hearts meet, Against the honored soldier's breast The starless soldier's heart should beat, And Prince Eugene great Marlborough drew To his great heart still beating true. ^Repeat salutation music.^ The mazy music's rippling tide Swept o'er the shoals of jewelled feet, But Prince Eugene by Marlborough's side Scarce heard the mystic rhythms beat; The airy pages came and went, In blazing halls the-goblets kissed, He shared that nobler sentiment To true hearts known, by maskers missed. The heroic friendship more than wealth, That loves another more than self. Cool fell the dews, the late hours came, And rose the moon, a midnight sun. Uncertain shone the astral's flame. And guests departed one by one. With lingering step they went away. The lord, the knight, the wit, the beau. Still happy in the morning gray. And bowing low, and bowing low, In memory's ear recalling yet, The sweet and stately minuet. [Imitation.^ Oh, fine old times were those, I ween. In the eye of the courtly Englishman, When came to London Prince Eugene Ma7i z's a voluntary spectator 0/ his own works ovly. It is because he esteems and admires only himself . It is because he searches for himself in every- thing, — Dels ARTE. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 299 To plead for Marlborough with Queen Anne, In the halls of state the minstrels gay Played sweet, on tapestries of gold, How, well-a-day ? — Ah, well-a-day. In the arrased halls of old! THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. Jessie F. O'Donnell. ["When, after the battle of Belmont, General Grant, under a flag of truce, sent a detachment to bury the dead and remove the wounded, they heard the song of ' The Star-Spangled Banner ' rising on the still air. Following the sound, they discovered under a tree a warrior with both legs mangled, from whose feverish lips the national anthem rang out over the gory plain." — Headleys Life of Grant. — The music of " The Star-Spangled Banner " should be played during the italic lines, and these lines sung, if possible.] /^VER the field the grass is red With loyal blood of our Union dead; The wounded lie a sickening sight, And cold, white faces mock the light. Yesterday there was fire and shout. Yesterday bullets whizzed about. Cannons boomed, and sabres clashed, And hate from the eyes of soldiers flashed. Only the moan of pain to-day Breaks through the morning still and gray; The bullets are cold, the guns at rest. And the soldier dead on his foeman's breast Once we were eager to deal out death; Now we woo back the failing breath; The whole secret of expression lies in the time zve delay the articulation of\ the initial consonant. The delay arrests the attention^ and prevents our catching the sound at a disadvantage.— T>Ki.KVMOSisiK. 300 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. And the earth dark-stained with blood of the brave, Forgiving, offers a peaceful grave. Up from the field where the wounded lie, Broken and faint as a spirit-sigh, Snatches of song fall soft on the ear, A familiar strain to the soldiers dear. "iSing?^ " ' Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh^ long may it wave *' — It reaches our hearts like a voice from the grave; We gaze at each other in wordless amaze, Who raises that hymn of a patriot's praise? Here where death-wagons groan as they pass? Here where the wounded lie thick in the grass? Once more we bend o'er the suffering men, But sweeter and clearer it rises again. Triumphant it swells to a volume of might. \_Sing:\ " Oh^ say, can yoic see by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming f - Then sinks to the murmur of music in dreaming. Our hearts grow warm, and our pulses bound. As over the field we follow the sound. Over the grass that is trampled and torn. Through the chilly light of the early morn; While ever, to guide us, rings out on the air That outburst of joy that " our flag is still there.*' Then we pause, for against the rough trunk of a tree Leans the soldier who sings of *^ the land of the free.** ^ ^ , Rhythm is that which asserts; it is the form of movement. Melody is that which distinguishes. Harmony is that which conjoins. — Delsarte. DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. 301 Wounded, but warrior-like, he lies; Death-pale, but with a hero's eyes; His burning lips breathe not of pain. But send a song across the plain: \^Sing,'\ *^ Ohy say, can you see by the dawn' s ea^^ly lights What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight, O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming! And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there; Oh, say, does that star-spangled baiiner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? " O71 that shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep. Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes. What is that which the breeze, o'er the toivering steep. As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses? Now it catches the gleam of the morning' s first beam, In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream; ' Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh, long may it wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!" With tears unused to the eyes of men, We carry him back to the camp again; But still, through the blood-veined field, that song Rings out in music sweet and strong: {.Sing.l ^^ Then conquer we must, when our cause it is Just, And this be our motto, * In God is our trust;' And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the free and the hoine of the brave," 302 DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. HINTS FOR STATUE-POSES. THE following twenty-seven photographs have been taken directly from the classic works of art them- selves. They have been selected from the numerous statue-poses given by Delsarteans as being among the most effective and graceful of these plastic pictures. The ^M^ different poses of the Niobe may be given either singly, or all together in a group. In cases like the pictures of Hebe, Melpomene, Gany- mede, and others where vases, jars, discs, flowers, and various other accessories are used to round out the w^ork of art as a mere picture, these accessories need not and generally do not appear in the poses of the human form. But the arms and all the parts of the body are to be posed in position exactly as if actually holding the article. If desired, the jar, flower, or what- ever is in the picture, may be included in the pose. This will, however, interfere with the passing from one pose to another in quick succession. The poses will then have to be given as a series of classic tableaux, the person arranging herself each time before the curtain is rung up. Without the accessories, the poses maybe melted into one another in full view of the audience, care being taken to make the transitions without losing in any de- gree a perfect poise of the body, and in sinuous, grace- ful curves of the body and limbs. This last way is diffi- cult to do well, requiring much practice and a perfect control of all the muscles. No trace of effort should be apparent either in the transition from one pose to another or in holding the pose. Of course, the face should be in harmony with each pose. The costume for these poses is a loose Greek robe, one that will show the curves of the form without in any way constricting its movements. Much drapery around the legs, or many skirts should be avoided. Colored lights may be used with excellent effect. A regulation white wng may be worn if desired, though it is not obligatory. INDEX TO ADVERTISERS. The advertisements form a valuable feature of this work. They present to its readers only reputable teachers, good schools, and trustworthy business houses. Readers are asked to patronize them; and, in corresponding with them, to mention that their advertise- ments were seen in the Z)^L6MZ^r^ RECITATION BOOK AND DIRECTORY. PAGE A DAMS, Mrs. George E 327 Adkisson, Miss Wessie 328 American Academy of the Dramatic Arts, The 336 Anderson, Mrs. Lizzie Pershing 328 Anderson, W. G 326 Ayres, Alfred 325 Bacon, Mrs. Mary Lord 324 Baldwin, Mary H 329 Bangs, Lois A 312 Banks, Mrs. Emma Dunning 316 Bell, Grace C 328 Berg, Lillie P 324 Bishop, Mrs. Coleman E 327 Bowles, Rhoda R 328 Brinkerhoff, Mme. Clara 324 Brown, Moses True 312 BuRKHARD, Eleanor ^l 324 Burnham, Avon C 335 Burpee, Vora D 324 Cappiani, Mme. Luisa 329 Case, Etta L 324 Chapman, Mrs. Ethelyn Bryant 326 Chapman, Fred A 324 Chappaqua Mountain Institute 324 Conner, Mrs. Elizabeth Marney 324 CoscARDEN. Eva 329 Cranston & Stowe 327 De Louie, Mme. El 320 Delsarte Corset Co. 327 Detroit Training School 329 Eddy, Maverette E 324 Eddy, Mrs. Sara Hershey 328 Edgerton, Mrs. Frances 324 Ellis, Mrs. Lelia 329 Emerson, Dr. Ch.^rles W 325 Emerson, Mrs. F. M. G 324 Georgen, Mrs. Eleanor 336 Gleason, May 329 Hawes, Mrs. A. N 327 Heyl, Ida E 328 Hough, Mrs. Annie Scrutton 327 Howard, Mrs. Anna K 324 Huntley, Mrs Emma Manning 324 IsoM, Sally McG 324 Jenkins, M. Virginia . 328 Jones, Minnie M — 328 Josephs, Lemuel B. C 3*29 Keenan, J. A 330 Kellogg. Anita M 327 King. Stella M 325 Knight, Mrs. Sophie Howard 324 Ludlam School of Oratory 324 Ludlum, Mrs. Mary Hogan 325 Lyman. Walter C 325 page McAvoy, T. J 325 McDowell, Ed. L. 320 Martin, Lucia Julian 325 Mayne, Mrs. R. E 327 Mehan, J. M 324 Metropolitan Conservatory 322 Milne, Saidee V 329 Morgan, Anna 307 Morris, R. Anna 326 Myer, Edmund J 326 Myers, Amelia B 325 Nichols, Mrs. Bella Thomas 328 O'Brien, Alice L 328 Oliver, Mrs. Jennie C 325 Orum, Julia A 328 Peake, Franklin A 325 Peirce, Frances E 309 Perry, Edward P 326 Phelps, Carrie Berry 325 Potter, Jennie ONeill 329 Preece, Mrs. T. J 328 Prunk, Mrs. Hattie A 330 Rice, Sara Sigourney ". . . 325 RiDDELL, Laura G 325 RiPONT, Adele 324 Roberts. Chas 330 Rusk, BIrs. Lola Wood 324 St. Catherines Academy 329 Sargent, Blanche C 325 Saxton, Mrs. Scott 330 Serven, Mme. Ida 324 Smith, Mrs. Louise Humphrey 330 SoPER, Henry M 325 SouLE, Lizzie H 330 Southwick. F. Townsend 318 Stephen, John P 308 Story, Anna Warren 329 SwAYZE, Minnie 308 Taylor, James E 330 Thompson, Mrs. J. A 311 Thompson. Mary S 311 TiCKNOR, Howard M 329 TiSDALE, Mrs. Laura J 330 Von Boyle 320 Von der Heide, J. F 329 Ward, Ada Webster 330 Warren, Lillie E 330 Waterman, Mrs. Alice C 326 Webb, Anna 330 Webb, Mrs. Harriet 330 Werner, Edgar S., 310, 313, 314, 315, 317, 318, 323, 33—335 Wilson, Mrs. Mary Drew 312 Winkler, C. P 325 Young, Mrs, S. Etta 325 AD VER TISEMENTS. 307 Oliss ^BFia fR©FgaR, '? At the head of the Dramatic Department of the Chicago Conservatory. Miss Morgan is surrounded by able assistants in her various specialties, and instruction is given in all branches of Artistic Reading, Physical Culture, Voice-Culture, and Deport- ment, after the most approved Modern Ideas and Methods. PUPILS SPECIALLY PREPARED FOR THE PLATFORM AND FOR THE STAGE. ''Ai) Ho^r Will] D^lsarte/' Bx ANNA iVIORGAN. Illustrated by Rose Mueller Sprague and Marian Morgan Reynolds. FROM THE PRINT OF LEE & SHEPARD, BOSTON. Endorsed by Press and Public as a valuable addition to text-book litera- ture. It should be in the possession of all teachers and students desiring a comprehensive insight into the subject of Expression. Address Chicago Conservatory, Auditorium Building. CHICAGO, ILL, 3o8 A I) VER 2 7 SEMEN TS. NIISS MINNIE SWAYZE, Formerly Teacher of Elocution in Vassar College, and lor seventeen years in New York, gives instruction in ELOGarieN, VOIGEKi^aiiraRE — AND— IN SCHOOLS, CIvASSKS AND PRIVATKLY. Special Classes for the Instruction of Teachers, and for the study of English Literature. SPECIAL COURSE IN SHAKESPEARE. Address IVLISS SWAYZE, Hotel Albert, 42 East Eleventh Street, Ne^A^ York. c ORRESPONDENCE DESIRED WITH INSTITUTES, SOCIETIES, SCHOOLS, ETC., FOR A Lecture and Readings, or for Instruction at certain seasons. JOHN R STEPHEN. of Western University of Pennsylvania and Theological Seminaries, Allegheny, Pa., receives a limited number of private pupils, and undertakes the organization and supervision of select Reading Clubs, giving instruction as required. Specialty : — A thoroughly systematized course of lo lessons embodying Voice-Culture and Breathing-Exercises, Delsarte Principles, Swedish Educational Gymnastics, and instruction for effective Reading and Speaking — the whole de- signed to develop natural and spontaneous expression. Instruction in Acting or Stage Elocution is not undertaken. Impediments, weak or peculiar voices, speakers' " sore-throat," and undue fatigue after speaking receive especial attention. Reference kindly permitted to scores of responsible persons who are or have been pupils, and to many leading educators. " His duties are always performed in the most satisfactory way. He is pecu- liarly fitted for his vocation, and fully competent to perform whatever he under- takes. I approve most heartily of his methods." — M. B. Goff, LL.D., Chan- cellor Western University of Pa. Q^U or address; 204 North AvQnue, Allegheny, Pa,, AD VER TI SEMEN TS. 309 rHROHGH RRt Ye NAraRE. ROUMDKD 1880 ^ CHA^RTE^RKD 1S84. MOUNT :: VERNON Institute of Elocution and Languages, AT EI.OCUTIONARY HAIvL, No. 1115 Mount Vernon Street, Philadelphia, Pa. FRANCES B. PEIRCE, Principal. Elocntion, Literature, Book-Keeping, French, German, Spanish, and Latin. GRADUATING OR PROFESSIONAL COURSE. With Degree of Bachelor op Elocution : 100 Lessons, Costing §100, in Advance. This coui"se consists exclusively of Private Lessons, and apart from the Study and Ex- amination in Theory, is devoted directly to furthering the future prospects of the pupil. Experience has taught us that no ten or twelve persons desire exactly the same course of instruction, as would necessarily' be given in classes, aud much valuable time thereb}' wasted by a majority of the members ; as, for instance, in placing together Lawyers, Ministers, Teachers, Public Readers, and Actors. We, therefore, do not graduate pupils from classes. Post-Graduate Course, with Degree of Doctor of Oratory, $50. CLASSES IN ELOCUTION. Preliminary, $5.00 for 20 Lessons. Advanced, $6.00 for 20 Lessons. The classes are intended mainly for those who desire to receive the polish and con- fidence which this study imparts, but who do not wish to pursue it as a profession. lltiM'MlMlllS Al® itlf litia All Graduates in the Degree of B. E. shall be entitled to contest. If the number exceed six, a PRELIMINARY COMMENCEMENT GRADUATES' CONTEST will be held the first week in June, at which time five persons will be chosen to compete at Commencement for Three Gold Medals. One Gold Medal will be offered for the best Graduating Thesis. Graduates in the Degree of D. O. may compete upon pieces of their own production for One Gold Medial. Each Preliminary Class in Elocution will close with a Public Entertainment, in which every member is expected to participate. The members of Advanced Classes in Elocution will have the privilege of ' competing for positions in the PRELIMINARY COMMENCEMENT CLASS CONTEST, which will be held the last week in 3Iay. and upon which occasion three persons will be selected to represent the classes at Commencement, and to compete for One Gold Medal. THE ANNUAL COMMENCEMENT and GRAND PRIZE CONTEST will be held early in June, when Diplomas will be presented, Degrees conferred, and the various contests above described take place. SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES SUPPLIED WITH TEACHERS OF ELOCUTION 310 A£) VER TISEMENTS. A DELSARTE PRIMER. poDiet^ (iflmna^tic^ and Ifoice-Cultoe, ADAPTED FROM THE DELSARTE SYSTEM. Specially for Class Use. Regular Lessons, with Questions for Pupils to Answer and Portions of the Text to be Memorized. MUSIC TO ACCOMPANY THE MOVEMENTS. By GENEVIEVE STEBBINS. The author's exhaustive studies and long experience as a Delsarte teacher in fashionable young ladies' schools, pre-eminently qualify her to prepare a work on gymnastics and voice-culture according to the system of Frangois Delsarte for ^ Schools of All Grades, v^ The distinguishing characteristic of the Delsarte gymnastics is that they have an aesthetic intent and effect, harmoniously developing the entire man and not, as do the ordinary and old-time gymnastics, develop the physical at the expense of the mental, and also resulting in dispro- portionate growth and in angularity instead of grace. They have been developed from studies of the Grreek marbles, and are designed to cul- tivate in individuals what Winkelmann styles * ' the repose in action " of great statues. They give reserve force, habitual grace of movement and sweetness of voice, so essential to all who move in good society. They correct awkwardness or stiffness, whether proceeding from self -conscious- ness or timidity, and eliminate disagreeable qualities from the speaking- voice, such as nasality, harshness or shrillness of any kind. Cloth, Teachers' net price, $1 ; by Mail, $1 .08. Address the Publisher, EDGAR S. WERNER, 28 West 23d Street, New York. AD VER TISEMENTS. 3 1 1 mis. GENEVIEVE STEBBIHS THDHIPSON, Author of ''Delsarte System of Expression^' and '"''Society Gymnastics,^' etc. —AND— miss mflRY s. THompSDN, Formerly with the late Lewis B. Monive, A.M., as Chief Instructor in the Boston University School of Oratory ; also some time Insti'uctor in the Lyceum School of Acting, New York.^ LECTURERS AND TEACHERS OF Delsarte Physical Culture, Elocution and Acting, Madison Square Theatre was crowded from floor to ceiling yesterday at the Delsarte matinee given by Miss Genevieve Stebbins and Miss Mary S. Thompson, * * * who certainly, if they owe their grace to Delsarte, are living proofs of the value of that system. — N, Y, Commercial Advertiser, April 2.2, 1887. A striking feature of the entertainment was the recitation of a synopsis of the drama "Struensee ■" by Miss Genevieve Stebbins. This lady is notably handsome in face and figure, full of natural grace of movement, blessed with a sweet and liquid voice, rich and soft. — N. F.JoztrnaZ, 1880. Miss Thompson is the finest elocutionist of her age we have ever heard. — N. Y. Times, 1880. Miss Stebbins gave the poses of statues. Her beautiful figure was just fitted to give these their highest artistic value, and as h he passed with delicious grace from one to another it was a most unique and fascinating exhibition. — N. Y. Daily Graphic. Miss Thompson recited selections from Browning, interpreting with rare intelligence and feeling the difficult thought and rhythm of the poet. — N. Y. Home Journal, April 14, 1880. Mrs. Thompson is recognized as the favorite priestess at the Delsarte altar, and has given many public demonstrations of her art. — N. Y. Press. Miss Thompson recited several poems from Browning with exquisite effect, bringing out clearly the grand word-painting of that powerful poet.— A^. Y. American Queen. Mrs. Genevieve Stebbins Thompson succeeded simply by the exercise of exquisite grace. —N. Y. World. Miss Stebbins recited with great intelligence, grace and dramatic f orce.— A^. F, Tribune. Each of these young women stands in New York at the head of her respective branch of the art of expression. Many of the incompetent teachers of Delsartism understand the philosophy of Delsarte's principles well enough, but are wholly unable to demonstrate them. The great thing in Mrs. and Miss Thompson's favor is that they show what superb grace and delicious tone are, and as an educational influence that is worth a library of works.— A^. Y. Graphic, March 21, 1S88. 312 AJD VER riSEMENTS. STILL LEADING- THE ADVANCE. The Boston Sghool er bratory. Founded in 1873. EIGHTEENTH YEAR OPENS OCT. 7TH, 1890. Summer School for teachers and students of the Delsarte Theories and ^Esthetic Drills, opens in Boston, July 8th, 1890. Send for Catalogue to MOSES TRUE BROWN, 7 A Beacon St., Boston, Mass. MISS LOIS A. BANGS, TEACHER OF THE VOICE, {System founded on Italian Method,) and the DELSJLItTE SYSTEM of Symmeti'ical Develoj>ment, A.fiiateurs Coached. Engagements for J*tiblic or l^arlor Meadings desired. Classes for the st%idy of ShaUespeare, and the Ifi- struction of Teachers a specialty. Address, care The Packer Collegiate Institute, OR, 92 SeventhL Avenue, BROOKLYN, N. T. Miss Bangs refers by permission to Seth Low, LL.D., Pres't Columbia College, and to Truman J. Backus, LL.D., Prin. Packer Col- legiate Institute. MRS. MARY DREW WILSON, READER AND ELOCUTIONIST, Will receive pupils in the -iDELSARTE SYSTEMt^ OF Physical Culture and Action ; THE PLASTIC ART; /ESTHETIC GYMNASTICS. Also every branch of Elocution in all its Applications. Respiration, Articulation, And Expression. She is also prepared to give Public Readings at short notice. RESIDENCE : 1423 Douglas St., Sioux City, la. AD VER TISEMENTS 313 THIRD EDITION. DELSHRTE SYSTEM OF ORATORY. CONTAINING THE UNABRIDGED WORKS OF M. I'Abbe Delaumosne and Mme. Angelique Arnaud (pupils of delsarte), and the LITERARY REMAINS OF FRANCOIS DELSARTE. WITH THE FAMOUS "CpofAnger aiid"C!liar1iof lV[an." Printed in Colors as Drawn by Delsarte. These writings, now given to the public for the first time, were lately purchased of IMme. DELSARTE, with the understanding that they were all the manuscripts left by her illustri- ous husband. They are published in the same condition DELSARTE left them in, thereby affording the best means of becoming acquainted with the thoughts and methods of the unparalleled master of the science and the art of expression. In them is found THE GEN- UINE DELSARTE SYSTEM unmixed with the views and purposes of other persons, but presented just as the master expounded it. AN EXTRACT FROM DELSARTE'S LAST LETTER TO THE KING OF HANOVER IS A FITTING PREFACE: ''I am at this moment meditating a book, singular for more than one reason, whose form will be no less novel than its contents. The title is, ' The History of an Idea Pursued for Forty Years. ■• It will be my task to connect, and condense into a single narrative, all the circumstances of my life, which had as logical consequences the numerous discoveries which it has been granted me to follow up. I know not what fate is reserved for this book, but, however it may be, I crave, sire, your majesty's permission to offer the dedication to you." A BOOK OK NKARIvY 600 F*AGKS, of Great Value to all Delsarteans, Teachers of Elocution, Public Speakers, Singers, Actors, Sculptors, Painters, Psychologists, Theologians, Scholars in any Department of Science, Art, and Thought. Many Charts, Diagrams, Cuts, etc. Teacher's price, S3. 50 net. NOT FOR SALE AT BOOK-STORES. Send draft on New York, postal order or registered letter direct to the pubUsher, EDGAR S. WERNER, 28 West 23d Street, NEW YORK. 3H AD VER TISEMENTS. THIRTY ELOCUTION LESSONS FOR S1.35. Original Recitations with Lesson-Talks. These Selections were Written Especially for Recitation, and afford Excellent Opportunities for Poses, Bird-Tones and other Vocal Effects. The pupil is not bothered with arbitrary rules, but is taught in few and plain words the essential points of the piece he is learning, so that every recitation with its lesson-talk is a most valuable lesson in elocution. AUNT RHODY'S DREAM.— Yankee dialect story of an old woman who, having had a theological controversy with a deacon, dreams that she goes to heaven and finds that the various sects are simply doors that all open into the same heaven. Cos- tume piece. MONEY MUSK.— Poem by Bayard Taylor. Lesson-Talk by Mrs. Banks.— Humorous ac- count of a country dance, affording oppor- tunity for dance-steps. Music given. THE MOTHER^S EASTER SCARF.— Story of twins, one of whom loses his arm in sav- ing the other from a mad dog. Both after- ward fall in love with the same girl, when the one-armed one kills the other — at least he thinks so — but he wakes up to find it a dream, and yields the girl to his brother. A QUART OF MILK.— Dutch dialect story of a deaf old woman who hails a milkman, and he, mistaking her ear-trumpet for a milk-can, pours the milk in it. Humorous. VAN BIBBER'S ROCK.— A man pursued by Indians jumps from a high rock into the water, and is rescued by his wife. ALINE'S LOVE SONG.— A courting scene, introducing singing ; music given. Co- quettish, and specially suitable for encores. PRINCE ERIC'S CHRIST-MAID.— Eric of- fers his hand to her who sends the fairest lilies on Easter Day. Knowing the skill of Lady Constance, he is sure of her success. A plot results in her supposed death, and she, covered with lilies, is about to be buried, but is restored to life. RUTHIE'S FAITH IN PRAYER.— A little girl buries her doll, and prays for another one and gets it. Suitable to be recited before children. GRANDMA ROBBINS'S TEMPERANCE MISSION.— A stirring temperance recita- tion, introducing a prayer. Grandma Robbins is a host in herself, and the char- acter of Charlie appeals to every one. Pathetic with a happy ending. A SQUEEZE IN THE DARK.— Humorous Irish dialect. Impersonation of both male and female voices. Coquettish, merry, and sure to please. FLOSSIE LANE'S MARRIAGE.— Story of runaway lovers who, pursued by her father, get married on the train. THE SOLDIER'S JOY.— Recitation similar to " Money Musk," with music. Extremely popular ; introduces a girl first as a child, later as the woman who becomes instead of the soldier's a husband's joy. A LEGEND OF ROSE SUNDAY.— A pastor supposing his afftanced to be dying in a distant place, is happily surprised on en- tering the church on Rose Sunday to find her there fully restored to health. FLYING JIM'S LAST LEAP.— A pursued criminal, who, in return for kindness she has shown him, rescues a little girl from a burning building and loses his life. BRIDGET'S MISSION JUG.— Irish dialect recitation, suited to missionary gatherings. DOT'S CHRISTMAS; OR THE SOBER HAT. — A Christmas temperance selection. Fine opportunity for characterization, and suitable for church, parlor or stage. LAUREAME: THE MARBLE DREAM.— A statue costume recitation on the style of ''Pygmalion and Galatea," introducing music ; dramatic. ONE THANKSGIVING DAY OUT WEST.- Story of a young frontiersman, who, on returning home through the woods at night, is attacked by wolves. MEIN KATRINE'S BRUDDER HANS. — Humorous Dutch dialect. Very funny story and situations. Suitable for gentle- men. PRINCESS IMRA AND THE GOATHERD— Story of a prince, who, disguised as a goat herd, wins a princess. Has bell-tones. See next page for conclusion of this list. Nicely printed and bound, J^l.35, postpaid. Teachers' price SI. 10, by mail. Address the publisher, EBGA^R S. WEUNEM, 28 West 23d St., New York. AD VER TUBMENTS. 315 Elocutionary Studies # New Recitations. By Mrs. AXXA KAXDALL-DIEHL, THE EMINENT TEACHER, READER, AND AUTHOR. A Common-Sense and Practical Method of Teaching Reading, Recita- tion, and Declamation. Selections Analyzed and Explained. Directions for Costuming. A Large Variety of Entirely New and Original Pieces Suitable for all Occasions. This book meets tlie wants of nearly every class. There are dramatic selections of the highest order for the professional and amateur reciter ; there are selections for all sorts and occasions,— the platform, drawing-room. Sunday-school, temperance meetings, labor meetings, reform clubs, anniversaries ; there are school declamations, and a few things for very little children. It is more tlian a collection of nevr pieces, being a valuable class drill-book in elocution, and is eminently suited for school-work. With its analysis of pieces, its hints and directions for reading, it is an indispensable vade-mecum to the student and the teacher of elocution. Flexible Cloth, 60 Cts.; Paper, 35 Cts., postpaid. Address the Publisher, EDGAR S. WERNER, 28 West 23d St., New York. List of EMMA DUNNING BANKS'S Kecitations concluded from preceding page. A ROMAN VALENTINE.— A Roman maiden whose name is drawn on St. Valentine's Day by an objectionable suitor and by her real lover, the case being decided by the emperor giving her to the man that does the most valiant de-d. The true lover wins. Can be given in Roman costume. DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND. -Disguised as a waiting-maid a society belle and heiress meets her lover, who is supposed to be an humble boatman. The well- known ballad ''Twickenham Ferry" is introduced at intervals with fine effect. At the denoue- ment the disguises were rendered useless, each knowing the other's true character and station all the time. THE ELF-CHILD.— Poem by James Whit- comb Riley ; Lesson-Talk by Mrs. Banks. This most successful recitation is a good study for chddish voice in characterization. THE PRIDE OF BATTERY B.— Poem by F. H. Gassaway, with Lesson-Talk by Mrs. Banks. In the civil war, a little girl picked up by the Confederates, hearing that they have no tobacco, steals through the lines to the Fedei'als, who upon hearing her story load her with tobacco and send her safely back. em:\L4 dunning banks's medley.— a country girl becomes a successful actress. Yankee, Dutch, Negro and Irish dialect, with a scene from " Leah the Forsaken "" and from '' London Assiu^ance," with bird- tones and baby cries. TWO THANKSGIVING DANCES.— Two lovers quarrel at a Thanksgiving ball and part. Ten years later they meet by chance at another Thanksgiving party and make up. On the style of ' ' 3Ioney Musk '' and ''Soldier's Joy." introducing music and dance-calls. Music given. A RUSSIAN CHRIST3I AS. —Represents an ice-festival and the plot of a jealous lover, first to kill his rival on the ice and then to have him banished to Siberia on a charge of treason. Ends happily. THE OLD, OLD STORY.— Christmas recita- tion, telling the story of the birth of Christ. Not dramatic. Very suitable for Sunday- school entertainments. HOW CONGRESS FOUGHT FOR SHERI- DAN. — A dramatic poem, describing the scenes in Congress during the passage of the bill creating Sheridan General of the Army. Also describes scenes at Sheridan's bedside while he awaits the action of Congress, and the scene wlisn his com- mission is given him. Appropriate for all patriotic occasions. THE SPINNING-WHEEL SONG.— Poem by John F. Waller : Lesson-Talk by Mrs. Banks, giving full directions for spinning effects, and introducing airs from "Robin Adair '■• and "Comin' thro' the Rye." Also opportunity for old woman imper- sonation. Story of a girl who spins her grandmother asleep, and then takes a stroll with her lover. 3i6 AD VER TISEMENTS. ^an/id Public • Recitationist BOBOLINK T0NES7 BABY CRIES. Dramatic, Humorous, Pathetic, and Dialect Selections Given and Taught. ORIGINAL RECITATIONS A SPECIALTY. Author of "Laiireame, the OAarble T>ream," "Flying Jim's Last Leap, " " Soldier 's Joy, ' ' " Van Bibber's Koch, ' ' etc. ENGAGEMENTS MADE WITH CHURCHES AND SOCIETIES ON THE MOST LIBERAL TERMS. SATURDAYS AT 5 East 14th Street, NEW YORK. TERMANENT ADDRESS, 18 Liberty Street, BRIDGEPORT, CT. ADVERTISEMENTS. 317 Musically Accompasited Recitations! The Reader does not Sing but recites the Piece in tlie Usual Way, while another Person Plays the Accompaniment on Piano or Organ, thus Lending the Power of Music to the Reader's Voice in Bringing Out the Effects of the Recitation. MAILING PRICE. ATJX ITAIilENS. Poem by Owen Meredith. Music by G. Verdi. As arranged and recited by Mr. Charles Roberts, Jr. This poem is too well known to need descrip- tion. With this musical accompaniment it is doubh* effective $0.60 THE LAST HYMN. Poem by Marianne Farningham. Music by P. Giorza. Story of a shipwreck near the shore. A man is seen clinging on a spar, without hope of rescue. The people hear him sing " Jesus, lover of my soul." The reader that can sing this simple, famiUar hymn will have a most powerful and pathetic piece 50 THE SHADOTV OF A SONG. Poem by Campbell Rae-Brown. Music by Edgar S. Place. Story of a girl who sings to her dead, blind, twin brother whom she had tended with marvelous affection. Her lover overhearing her sing, suspects her of communing with a dead love and accuses her. She is so wounded by his suspicion that she leaves him forever, saying as she goes, that she will sing the song again just before she dies. A year afterward, the lover, who is alone and disconsolate, hears the song, and realizes that she (who is unseen) is dying. Introduces a song. Both the singer and the piano are invisible. This is the greatest reading of the year, and, with proper rendering, produces wonderful effect upon an audience 50 THE TRAGEDY. Poem by T. B. Aldrich. Music arranged by P. Giorza from La Traviata. The poet, while witnessing the play. La Dame aux Camelias, recog- nizes in the audience a girl whom he had known years ago, and who has fallen into sin. He muses that the real tragedy that night was this woman who played despair. .50 THE BENEDICTION. Poem by Francois Coppee. Music by Edgar S. Place. This, as is well known, is a story of the siege of Saragossa, where the troops shot down a lot of monks, finally shooting an old priest at the altar who was in the act of giving the benediction. Very dramatic, and one of the chief pieces in the repertoire of Prof. J. W. Churchill and Mr. Charles Roberts, Jr 70 HOW WE KEPT THE DAY. Poem by Will Carleton. Music by W. E. G. Evans. This is a humorous account of a country Fourth of July celebration, introducing the various national airs and other tunes usually plaj^ed on such occasions 75 THE UNCIiE, as recited by Henry Irving. Poem by H. G. Bell. Music composed by Sir Julius Benedict, expressly for Mr. living. Very dramatic story of two brothers who loved the same woman. The unsuccessful suitor murders his brother by locking him in a chest. Years afterward the murderer, in a fit of remorse, tells the story to his nephew, and dies 60 THE STORY OF SOME BELIES. Music by Edgar S. Place. Story of an artisan who, having cast a tuneful chime that was carried off in war, became disconsolate and wandered for years through foreign lands in search of his bells. At last he finds them, and as they play "Home, Sweet Home,'' he dies. Very appropriate for young ladies '. 50 KING ROBERT OF SIC ILY. Poem by Longfellow. This great poem is too well known to need description. Every one who recites it should have this musical ac- companiment, which adds greatly to its rendition 1 50 COUNTRY SI.EIGHING. Poem by E. C. Stedman. Charming, semi-humorous description of an old-fashioned country sleigh-ride. Light and frolicsome, with splendid opportunity for by-play 53 MUSIC ON THE RAPPAHANNOCK. Poem by C. C. Somerville. Story of Northern and Southern armies encamped on the banks of the river, so near that each can hear the other's band. When one army plays a war-tune, the other army responds with its war-tune, until, finally, one side plays "Home, Sweet Home," which so touches the other side that it joins in, and for the time being the North and the South are one*. Appropriate for G. A. R. meetings, etc 50 I DREAM. Poem by Rev. D wight Williams. The happiness and beauty of the here- after as foreshadowed in a dream. Suitable for Sunday-school and church enter- tainments, as well as for other occasions 50 THE FUGITIVES. Poem by Shelley. Music by Robert Schumann. Story of runaway lovers, who are cursed by her father, and who are exposed to a storm. .40 Sent on receipt of price. Address the publisher, EDGAR S. WERNER, 28 West 23d St., New York. 3 1 8 AD VER TISEMENTS. TO STUDENTS AND TEACHERS. Beginning October, 1890, the terms for my Professional Course will be $200.00 per annum. I shall devote all the time at my disposal for this work (three hours daily) to ^ Cl£^gg LipiTED T0 ¥E]V[ pEJIBE^g, divided into two sections. This plan insures to pupils the advantages of class instruction, together with an amount of individual training and criticism altogether impossible in the large heterogeneous classes of lower-priced schools. Pupils without talent will not be accepted. The school year is from the first Monday in October to the first of the following June, with ten days' vacation at Christmas. All delays and absences are at pupiPs loss, unless caused by sickness. Two j^ears' attendance with satisfactory jorogress entitles the pupil to a diploma. Pupils already well advanced may be able to complete the course in one j-ear. Private pupils will be received at any time. 1 cannot undertake to describe my method, for I do not know how. It is the best I could find or invent, and my course includes all that is taught in first-class schools everywhere, together with a few ideas of my own. I refer to pupils who hold good positions here and elsewhere, to my work in the American Academy of the Dramatic Arts, and in several of the leading schools and conseiwatories in the city. Respectfully, ^ TOWNSEND SOUTHWICK, 17 East 16th St., near Union Square, New York. A Common-Sense Text-Book for Beginners in Elocution ! PRIMER OF ELOCDTION AND ACTION. By F. TOWNSEND SOUTHWICK. PL A //if, PRACT/CAL, CO/VC/SE. THOROUGHLY //V ACCORD W/TH MODERN /DEAS. TELLS WHAT TO DO AND HOW TO DO /T, A Series of Actual Lessons such as would be given by a Capable and Progressive Teacher. The author is one of the foremost New York teachers, and is fully qualified to produce such a work. He has taken whatever is good from the old methods and adapted it to the principles of the New Elocution. The book is what it claims to be — an elementary manual of elocution and expression. Published in WERNER'S VOICE MAGAZINE, beginning October, 1889. Subscription price, ^1.50 a year. ' Address the Publisher, EDGAR S, WERNER, 38 West 23d St., New York, AD VER TISEMENTS. 319 Brown's* Gofflmon * School ^^ Blocntionary * Selections. A Careful Selection of Prose and Poetical Compositions, Adapted for Public Readings and School Recitations, with a Key Containing the Proper Elements Required in the Delivery of Each Selection. CONTE^MTS. An Adjuration. D. N. Shelley. Antony's Address to the Romans. Attention the Soul of Genius. Dr. O. Dewey. Aunt Tabitha. Barcy^i's Last Banquet, The. A. G. Green. Beau. T. H. Robertson. Beautiful Snow, The. James Watson. Blacksmith of Ragenbach, The. Frank Murray. Brutus on the Death of Caesar. Bugle Song, The. Alfred Tennyson. Call to Vote, A. Catastrophe, A. Peleg Arkwright. Charge of the Light Brigade, The. Alfred Tennyson, Chinese Dinner, The. Colored Debating Society, A. Courtin', The. J. R. Lowell. Courtship under Difficulties. Creeds of the Bells. Geo. W. Bungay. Darkey's Counsel to the Newly Married. Edmund Kirke. Dead Doll, The. Death of Gaudentis. Harriet Annie. Deutsch Maud IMuller, The. Carl Pretzel. Dutchman's Serenade, The. Dutchman's Telephone, The. Eloquence. Lewis Cass. Enchanted Shirt, The. John Hay. Engineer and Child, The. Evils of Ignorance, The. Horace Mann. Extract from "Morituri Salutamus."" Longfellow. Face Against the Pane, The. T. B. Al- drich. Father Land and Mother Tongue. Samuel Lover. Find a Way or Make it. Mary E. Lambert. Fire Bell's Story, The. George L. Catlin, First Party, The. Josephine Pollard. Flying Jim's Last Leap. Emma Dunning Banks. Gladiator, The, Jones. Gone Before. B. F. Taylor. Good-night, Papa. Grattan's Reply to Mr. Corry. H. Grattan. Guilty or Not Guilty, Hang up the Baby's Stocking, He and She. Edwin Arnold. Honest Deacon, The. How He Saved St. MichaeFs. How They Pop the Question, If We Knew. Irishman's Panorama, The, James Bur- dette. Katie Lee and Willie Gray, King Yolmer and Elsie. John G. Whittier. Larrie O'Dee. W. AV. Fink. Larry's on the Force. Irwin Russell, Launching of the Ship, Longfellow. Letter of Marque, The, Caroline F, Orne Little Steenie, Anna L. Ruth, Lodge Night. Lost and Found. Hamilton Aide. MacLaine's Child. Charles Mackay, Magic Isle, The. Mahmoud. Leigh Hunt. Mark Twain's EuroTJean Guides. Samuel L. Clemens. Marriage of Santa Claus, The, Miss Edith Helps Things Along, Bret Harte, Miss Edith's Modest Request, Bret Harte, Mocking-Bird, The, A. Wopkins. My Daughter Jane. Sarah L. Flowers, Nature Proclaims a Deity. Chateaubriand, Nearer Home. Phoebe Gary, Nebuchadnezzar, Irwin Russell, Night Before Christmas, The. C. C. Moore, Organ Builder, The. Julia C. R. Dorr. Our Best Society. Curtis. Our Country. Daniel Webster. Parson Caldwell. Bret Harte. Parson's Sociable, The. Parrhasius. N. P. Willis. Patient Mercy Jones. Jas. T. Fields. Philosophy of Laughter. Mrs. C. M. Peat. Practical Young Woman, A. Irwin Russell. President Lincoln's Address. A. Lincoln. Progress of Humanity, The. Charles Sum- ner. Regulus to the Carthaginians. E. Kellogg. Setting a Hen, She would be a Mason. James C. Laughton. Similar Case, A. Sneezing Man, The. Ward M. Florence. Something Left Undone, Lougfell(»w, State Immortal, The. Daniel Webster. Sudden Cure, A. There is no Death. Lord Lytton. Two Loves and a Life. William Sawyer. Vas Bender Henshpecked ? Von Boyle. Water. Judge Arrington, Way to Heaven, The. J. G. Holland. Weil of St. Keyne, The. Robert Soutliey. We Shall Know. Annie Herbert. Western Lawyer's Plea against the Fact, A. What is a Minority ? J. B. Gough, When Will You Come Home Again ? Whistler, The. 25 cents, postpaid. 5 copies $1, postpaid, 25 copies $4, postpaid. Address EDGAR S. WSENEE, 28 West 23d Street, New York 3 20 AD VER 71 SEMEN TS. mcDoweirs Elocution studio ATsTD SESTfelRE SVnNASiaffl, 305-307 N. 14th Street, - St. Louis, Mo. J5X). £. McDOWJELL, Director. ''VON BOYLiE; ~ Humorist and Elocutionist, Author of ' 'Ever iSo Far Away, ^' ' 'Bttsy Bee, '' ' 'Adores Story, '^ ' 'Shang- Hai-Schlausenheimer Imbroglio''' and other i^ecitations. InYentor of the " HDfflOROMETER " and discoverer of the " AMUSEMENTOR." 23 MURRAY ST., NEW YORK. DE LOUIE Scttooi Of noting and Elocutloa 1123 Arch St., Philadelphia, Pa. Prepares students in every department of dramatic art, singing, reading, speaking, conversation, stage and plat- form, effecting in a few weeks ^what years heretofore failed to accomplish. ADVERTISEMENTS. 321 A FEW MORE COPIES LEFT ! WERNER'S DIRECTORY Of Elocutionists, Readers, Lecturers, and otiier Public Entertainers. This is the Book you need, because it contains : 1. A List of over 10,000 Pieces for Declamation and Recita^ tion. Alphabetically Arranged with Authors' Names, and Telling in what Books each Selection may be Found. This is of ^reat advantage to public readers, who now know where to find any Selection, and also what pieces have become hackneyed, thus enabling them to prepare fresh programs. This feature makes it a valuable book of reference to all persons interested in the gems of English Literature. 2. A List of 2,500 Dialogues, with Number of Male and Fe- male Parts. Arranged Alphabetically, with Names of Books where the Dialogues may be Found. These Dialogues are suitable for day-schools, Sunday-schools, authors' days, anniversa- ries, temperance meetings, home circles, and various other occasions. 3. History of the Literature of English Elocution, Beginning 130 Years ago, and Coming to the Present Time. With a Description of the Principal Books and Methods that have been Published. This is the most complete bibliography of English elocution ever published. 4. Biographical Sketches and Portraits of Prominent Elocu- tionists. This is the only book that gives an account of the life and work of those who have attained distinction in the elocutionary world. 5. Names and Addresses of the Elocutionists, Reciters, and Readers of the United States and of Canada. For the first time the elocutionary fraternity is given a standing before the public like the other learned professions. Every elocutionist should take pride in this fact, and do all he can to circulate a book that tends to promote his interests. If you send at once, you may have a copy for $1.25 postpaid. (The published price is $3.) Well printed and bound, 8v^o, 400 pages. Not for sale at bookstores. Send direct to the publisher, EDGAR S. WERNER, 28 West 23d St., New York. 322 AD VER TISEMENTS. METROPOLITAN COITSEIIVATOIIY OP MUSIC, 21 East 14th Street, New York City. W E OFFER the best instruction America affords, in all branches of the musical art. The Vocal Department is successfully conducted. The pupils are taking- the best positions in the leading- churches in the large cities. No forcing or unnatural treatment of voice. In the Orchestral Department, the violin, flute and clarionette receive the attention of the best masters under the direction of Mr. Clifford Schmidt, Concert Meister of the famous Seidl Orchestra at the Metropolitan Opera House. The Piano Department is under the personal direction of Albert Ross Parsons, the president of the National Music Teachers^ Association. His influence in the National College of Music, his universal acceptance as au- thority on all matters of Technic, and the popularity of his compositions, are a guarantee that the pupils in this department vv^ill receive the best possible advantages. The Organ Department, v^ith Dudley Buck and Harry Rowe Shelley at its head, and a new and beautiful organ built for the Conservatory, upon specifications furnished by these two superior musicians, is an attractive and successful feature of the school. We are associated with the celebrated Stern School of Languages, which course forms a part of our Curriculum. FACUZ,TYi DUDLEY BUCK, D. L. DOWD, PAOLA GTORZA, H. W. GREENE, C. B. HAV7LEY, CHARLES DE JANON, ALBERT ROSS PARSONS, SILAS G. PRATT, CHARLES ROBERTS, Jr., LOUIS ARTHUR RUSSELL, CLIFFORD SCHMIDT, HARRY ROWE SHELLEY, HENRY T. STAATS, SIGMON M. STERN, FRANK H. TUBBS, MISS CAIA AARUP, MISS META DORR, MISS ETELKA UTASSI, HERBERT STICKLER, ISIPHINE IVES, GEO. M. GREENE. The Department of Elocution, conducted by Mr. Charles Roberts, who is most ably assisted by Miss Isiphine Ives, is showing remarkable results. A special advantage in connection with the School are the boarding- accommodations for the non-resident pupils in the home of the Director, where, with the influence of a musical atmosphere and careful guidance, the best results can be obtained. Special rates made to those taking two or more studies. //. Vt, GREENE, General Manager. C. B. HAWLEY, Musical Director. AD VER TISEMENTS. 323 HOLMES'S • RECITATIONS. Desig-ned for Public and Social Entertainments and for use in Schools and Colleges. After Sixty Years ; or, Lost and Found. Asleep at the Switch. Away from the Wine-Cup, Away. Bald-Headed Man. Ballad of Brave Women. Ballad of Cassandra Brown. Banford's Burglar Alarm. Bell of Zanora. Biddy O'Brien has the Toothache. Biddy's Trials among the Yankees. Brother Watkins. Burdock's Music-Box. Burglar- Alarm. Burning Ship. Centennial Ode. Changing Sea. Chariot Race. Christmas Carol. Church Reveries of a School Girl. College " Oil Cans." Cow and the Bishop. Creeds of the Bells. Daniel in the Lion's Den. Daisy's Faith. Deacon Munroe's Story. Deacon's Courtship. Death of the Owd Squire. Decoration Day. Dead Doll. Don't Drink To-night. Easter-Tide Deliverance. A. D. 430. Entertaining Her Big Sister's Beau. Eulogy on Lincoln. Excelsior. Exhibition. Faithful Unto Death. Fall of Pemberton Mill. Famine. Farmer and Wheel ; or, the New Lochinvar. Finding of the Cross. First Party. Fisher's Daughter. "Flash." The Fireman's Story. CONTENTS. Flag. Flood of Years. George Washington, Aunt Polly's. Gettysburg. Ghosts. Girls Study, How. Girl's View of Life, A Little. Gone with a Handsomer Man. Gottlieb's Christmas, Little. Greeting, Domestic. Harry. Heart Throbs. • Heroine After All. Hero, The Little. How we Hunted a Mouse. Husband's Grief. Husband's Joy. "Inasmuch," A Christmas Story. Intelligent Bird, A Very. Jamie. Jane Conquest. Jenkins Goes to a Picnic. Jimmy Brown's Sister's Wedding. Jimmy Brown's Steam Chair. Jimmy Butler and the Owl. Kate Shelly. Kentucky Philosophy. Lasca. Legend of the Christ Child. Legend of the Northland. Legend of the Organ-Builder. Light on Deadman's Bar. Little Children in Heaven. Little Rocket's Christmas. Marit and I. Marriage of Santa Claus. Mary's Night Ride. Mat and Hal and I. Medley. Memorial Day. Memorial Day. Mona's Waters. Mount of the Holy Cross. Mystic. Neighbors. New Cure for Rheumatism. Old Huldah. Old Simon Dole. Old Times and New. Old Woman's Complaint. Order for a Picture. Old Folks. Papa's Letter. Pat's Excelsior. Pequot Idyl. Perplexed Housekeeper. Phantom Ship. Poor-House Nan. Pure as the Snow. Quaker Sinner, The Little. Railway Matinee. Receiving Calls. Red Jacket. Ride of Jennie M'Neal, Robert of Lincoln. "Ruby" Played, How. Rumseller's Refrain. Sam Weller's Valentine. Sandy McDonald's Signal. Saved by a Hymn. Schoolmaster's Guests. Setting a Hen. Sheridan's Last Battle. She Wanted to Learn Elocu- tion. Ship of Faith. Sioux Chief's Daughter. Tell-Tale. Tilghman's Ride. Tim Crane's Proposal. Tom's Little Star. Too Late for the Train. Tribulations of Biddy Malone. Trouble in the "Amen Corner." 20th Anniversary of Mystic Valley Institute. "Uncle Ben." What a Christmas Carol Did. What the Choir Sang About the New Bonnet. What the Little Girl Said. Whistling in Heaven. Who Stole the Bird's Nest ? Widder Greene's Last Words. Young Soldier. Yours Truly. Over 500 pages, well printed and bound in cloth, $ 1 .50, postpaid. Copy for examination will be sent for $ 1 . 1 O, postpaid. Schools and teachers supplied in quantities at liberal reduction. Send for special rates. Address the publisher, EDGAB S. WEBNEB, 28 West 23d St., JSfetv York. 324 AD VER TISEMENTS, F^ROKESSIOIsTAIv CARDS. MRS. MARY LORD BACON, Reader and Teacher of Elocution, Vocal and Physical Culture, and the Delsarte System of Gesture. Potsdam, N. Y. MISS LILLIE BERG, Concert Singer and Teacher of Sing- ing. A: specialty made of the proper use of the voice in speaking, of clear enunciation, and of pronunciation of foreign languages. Instruction according to the methods of Lamperti and of Delsarte. 337 West 59th St., New York. MADAME CLARA BRINKER- HOFF, Prima Donna and Educator of the Singing Voice. Lessons in Singing, Voice-forming, Art of Expression, and Perfect Control of Breath, taught to amateurs and professional pupils. For terms, send for circulars. 219 East 18th St., New York. BURKHARD, ELEONORA M., Teacher of Voice-Culture (Old Italian Method), Elocution and .Esthetic Physical Culture. 145 Monroe St., Brooklyn, N. Y. MISS VORA D. BURPEE, Dramatic Reader, Teacher of Del- sarte System of Gesture and Dramatic Ex- pression. 23 Union Park, Boston, Mass. ETTA L. CASE, Delsarte Teacher and Reciter. Pupils received at all times. Engagements made for Readings. 523 Walbridge Ave., Toledo, Ohio. CHAPPAQUA MOUNTAIN IN- STITUTE, Among the hills, thirty-two miles from New York. Send for programme. Chappaqua, N. Y. FRED A. CHAPMAN, LL.B., Elocutionist and Exponent of the Famous De L'Isere Method of Voice-Train- ing Adapted to the Speaking- Voice. 530 irth St., Denver, Col. ELIZABETH MARNEY CON- NER. Expressionist and Impersonator. Principal of Buffalo School of Expression. 51 West Genesee St., Buffalo, N. Y. CAPITAL CITY COMMERCIAL College and Capital Qitj School of Shorthand. The Leading Schools of Com- merce in the West. N. B.— The Delsarte Sys- tem of Elocution is taught in these Schools. Send for catalogue to J. M. Mehan, Prop., Des Moines, la. MISS MAVERETTE E. EDDY, Teacher of Elocution, Voice and Phy- sical Training, also Expounder of the Del- sarte System of Expression. Evans Honse, 175 Tremont St., Boston, Mass. MRS. FRANCES B.EDGERTON Public Reader, Teacher of Esthetic Physical Culture and Delsarte. 1001 Leavenworth St., San Francisco, Cal. RS. F. M. G. EMERSON^ Public Reader and Teacher of Elocu- tion. 140 Wilson St., Brooklyn, N. Y. MRS ANNA K. HOWARD, Teacher of Elocution. Author of " The Canadian Elocutionist,'' price $1.25. 24 St. Mary St., Toi-onto, Ontario, Canada. jWIRS. EMMA MAN NING-HUNT- Teacher of Elocution and Physical Culture. Merchant's Exchange, Main St., Nashua, N. H. ALLY McG. ISOM, Teacher of ^Esthetic Physical Culture and Murdoch's System of Elocution founded on Dr. Rush's "Philosophy of the Voice." Testimonials from James E. Murdoch, Moses True Brown, Mrs. Genevieve Stebbius Thompson and National School of Oratory, Philadelphia. University of Mississippi, Oxford, Miss. MRS. SOPHIE HOWARD KNIGHT, Concert and Oratorio Singing, also Vocal Instruction. Pupil of the late Mme. Anna Bishop, Lyman W. Wheeler, of Boston, and other renowned instructors. 204 Capitol Ave., Lansing, Mich. T UDLAM SCHOOL OF ORA- JL- TORY AND ARTS. Full Corps of Teachers in Elocution, Vocal aihd Instrumental Music, Literature anj Modern Languages. ^ , , ^. . Los Angeles, Ca.. A DELE RIPONT, Teacher and Costume Reader. Secre- tary of Buffalo School of Expression. 15 Allen St., Buffalo, N. Y. USK SCHOOL OF ELOCU- TION, Voice-Development and Physical Culture. Defects of Voice corrected. Specialty : Curing Throat, Bronchial and Lung Troubles. Lola Wood-Rusk, 102 Bond St., Cleveland, O. S ERVEN, IDA, Singing Reader— Teacher of Delsarte System of Esthetic Expression. Pupil of and Associate Teacher with Steele Mackaye. Denver Conservatory, 1939 Welton St., Denver, CoL AD VER TTSEMENTS, F^ROKKSSIONALv CARDS. 32s SHAKESPEARE ELOCUTION, Alfred Ayres, Author of " The Or- thoepist, '■'•'"' The VerbaUst, ' ' " Essentials of Elocution," etc. 224 West 15th St., New York. HM. SOPER'S SCHOOL OF - ELOCUTION, 13th YEAR. English and Delsarte Systems. Stuttering, etc.. Positively Cured. Soper's Recitation Books, 8 Nos.,25 cts. each. Athenaeum, 50 Dearborn St., Chicago, lil. TEACHEROFDELSARTE SYS- TEM OF EXPRESSION. Work in Schools a specialty. At present located at Wynnton College, Columbus, Ga. Address, Blanche C. Sargent, Boston School of Oratory, 7a Beacon St., Boston, Mass. THE INDIANAPOLIS SCHOOL OF ELOCUTION AND ORA- TORY, Vance Block, Indianapolis. Instruction based on the Philosophy of Rush, Darwin, Lavater, Bell and Delsarte. T. J. McAvoy, Principal. CP. WINKLER, ■ Vocal Teacher, Organist, Conductor. Oi'chestral parts arranged for Operas, Songs, etc. At Witzmann's, 223 Second St., Memphis, Tenn. MRS. S. ETTA YOUNG, Teacher of Elocution and Phj^sical Culture. Delsarte System of Gesture. 716 Olive St., Leavenworth, Kan. M RS. MARY HOG AN LUDLUM Teacher of Elocution, Delsarte Sys- 32311^ Laclede Ave., St. Louis, Mo. WALTER C. LYMAN, Thorough, practical, original Ameri- can System of Vocal and Physical Culture and Expression by Voice and Action. Thirty- three Years' Professional Experience. Argyle Building, 9 East Jackson St. , Chicago, 111. MRS.LUCIAJULIAN MARTIN, Principal Training School of Expres- sion. Two years' course: Advanced Methods; Delsarte Philosophy. Engage- ments made for Public Recitals. Indianapolis, Ind. AMELIA B. MYERS, Teacher of Elocution in Hasbrouck Institute, Jersey City. Private Lessons in Delsarte System and Dramatic Reading. Address, care Hasbrouck Institute, Jersey City, N. J. JENNIE CROSS OLIVER, «J Teacher of the Delsarte System and of Natural Expression. Findlay College, Findlay, Ohio. FRANKLIN A. PEAKE, Lecturer, Reader and Teacher of all forms of Elocution, and an earnest advocate of Delsarte. Voice-Building a specialty. N. E. Cor. Kearsley and Beach Cts.. Flint, Mich. CARRIE BERRY PHELPS, O. M. Graduate of Monroe College of Oratory, Boston, Mass. Teacher and Dramatic Reader. 37 Michigan St., Toledo, Ohio. SARA SIGOURNEY RICE, Elocutionist, Editor of " Baltimore Elo- cutionist." Author of "The Poe Memorial V. flume,'' "Elocutionary Primer,"" Compiler of "Choice Readings '^ in Leaflet Form, and Compiler and Arranger of " Werner's Read- ings and Recitations, No. I.'"' 106 Mount Royal Terrace, Baltimore, Md. J AURA G. RIDDELL, B. O. i— • Prof, of Elocution. College of Letters. The climate renders this the finest place in the United States to study Delsarte. Pacific Beach, Cal. (Formerly MONROE) COLLEGE OF ORATORY. Largest School of Oratory in America. C. Wesley Emerson, M.D., President. Has a Systematic Course of Study, includ- ing a Complete System of Physical Trainmg and Voice-Culture. A New Method o f Ana ly - sis. Natural Rendering, and the Principles of Philosophy of Expression thoroughl\ taught. Scientific and Practical Work done in every department. Degrees conferred. Large illustrated catalogue sent free. Address C. Wesley Emerson, M.D., Pres't, aO Bromfield St., Boston, Mass. "III88 STELLA KING, of jSoslor) Sonool o| yralopj-, arid. f^^aic f upil of f pof. Public Reader, and Teacher of Elocution and Physical Culture. 216 West 15th St., New York. Or, care Werner's Voice Magazine, 28 West 23d St., New York, 326 AD VER TISEMENTS. PROFESSIONAL CARDS, ETHELYN BRYANT CHAPMAN. ir)sf pucli©r) ir) Cj©culi©r) Proper Methods of Breathing and Prin- ciples of Delsartean Gesture. HOTEL BELVIDERE, Cor. Grand Ave. & 8th St., Milwaukee,Wis. " THE EOLEOTIO SYSTEM OF PHYSICAL CULTURE IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS." An Illustrated Manual containing Graded Lessons in Delsarte Gymnastics, Marching with Fancy Steps, Posture, Ring, Wand, and Indian Club Drills; Suggestions for Class Management and Directions for Teaching Gesture and Concert Declamation. Arrangements made for the Instruction of Teach- ers and introduction of the book. Address the Author, R. ANNA MORRIS, School Supervisor of Gymnastics and Declama- tion, Des Moines, Iowa. DETROITTRAININGSCiOL OF Elocution and Englisl Literature, 13 Abstract Building, Detroit, Mich. AND THE Chaffee-Noble School of Expression, 13 Dorset St., Portman Sq., W., London, Eng. Director : MRS. EDNA CHAFFEE NOBLE. EDMUND J. MYER] Teacher of the Singing and Speaking Voice. Author of "Truths of Importance toVocalists," "The Voice from a Practical Standpoint," " Voice-Training Exercises," ^° Vocal Reinforcement." Send for circular. 36 East 23d St., New York. ANNIE SCRUTTON HOUGH, The Distinguished READER AND TEACHER, Is prepared to make ENGAGEMENTS with Entertainment Committees forCHURCHES, SOCIETIES, LODGES, CONCERT COM- PANIES, etc., and can be engaged for an ENTIRE EVENING, or in connection ivith otJier talent. Address 7 Messer St., Providence, R. I. EDWARD PERKINS PERRY, University Instructor in Elocution. A limited number of private pupils in Dramatic Action, Voice-Culture and Ad- vanced Reading will be received. Applica- tions should be made a month before the beginning of each term ia September and February. Public Readings, Summer Assem- bly and Normal Institute work solicited. Address, Washington University, St. Louis, Mo., or Mary Institute, Smith Academy, St. Louis Law School. BROOPCLYN Normal School for Physical Education Sixth Annual Announcement. Object :— The thorough Preparation of Teachers of Physical Education and Gymnastics. Course :— Winter at Brooklyn. Summer at Chautauqua, N. Y. Tuition :— $150.00. Faculty includes 12 phj^sicians. For catalogue and further particulars, address W. G. Anderson, M.D., President, Adelphi Academy, Brooklyn, N. Y. ALICE GMEY WATERMAN, CRITIC, TEACHER, AUTHOR. Delsarte Philosophy, Eclectic Physical Culture, Cor- rect Dress. Address : San Francisco, Cal., or care Werner's Voice Magazine, 28 W. 23d St., New York. AD VER TISEMENTS, 327 MRS. GEORGE E. ADAMS, nee FLORENCE A. FOWLE, Teacher of Elocution ^ Dramatic Art. Specialties : — Pantomime and the Dei- sarte System of Gesture ; Posing ; Stage Training. Also, the System of Gesture, Analysis, and the Study of Shakespeare by the Method of the late Prof. ROBERT R. RAYMOND. Address, 2 Park Street, Near Brookline Ave., Roxbury, Mass. "ESSENTIALS OF ELOCUTION AND ORATORY" By VIRGIL A. PINKLEY, Director of the Department of Elocution and Oratory in the College of , Music, Cincinnati, Ohio. A handsome half-leather 12mo book of 500 pages. The Standard Text-Book. A Thorough Presentation of the Art. Over 200 pages Standard Selections. Price, post- paid, SI. 25. Special Introductory Rates to Schools. Cranston & Stovve, Publishers, Cincinnati, Chicago, St. Louis. NITA M. KELLOGG, B. E., Lecturer on English Literature. Origi- nal Entertainments for Lyceums, Churches, Societies, etc. Teacher of Elocution. Grace Lessons and Artistic Rendering by the Methods of Rush and Delsarte. Highest Testimonials from the Bureau of Education, Washington, D. C, McMicken University and elsewhere. Medal Pupil of the School of Oratory, Philadelphia. Engagements Desired. 5 Eden Park Terrace, Walnut Hills, Cincinnati, Ohio. RE. MAYNE, ■ Instructor in Elocution and Oratory At De La Salle Institute, West 59th St., New York, and at St. Louis College, West 43d St., New York. Specialties : Voice- Building and Sacred Eloquence. Opportu- nities for Practice in a Large Hall. Mr. Mayne is prepared to give Lectures or Prac- tical Talks upon the Art of Elocution in its Latest Development. Address Care Werner's Voice Magazine, 28 West 23d St., New York. RS. A. N. HAWES^ Teacher of Vocal Music and Elocution. Delsarte System of Expression thoroughly taught and illustrated. Also Coaching for School and College Commencements. Mrs. Hawes combines Music and Elocution, and is also a thorough Student of Physiology and Hygiene. Preparing Teachers a special- ty. Address Mrs. A. N. Hawes, 29 Falmouth St., Oakdale, Portland, Me. DELSARTE MADE PRACTICAL. Applied to Health ♦^ Economy of Nervous Force -> Grace <* Expres- sion -J- Art. Entertaining and Helpful Delsarte Evenings : *' Health and Grace vs. Ill- ness and Awkwardness;" "Within and Without ; " ' ' Dress ' '—Healthful, Ar- tistic, Modern, Grecian; " Art and Ex- pression : Pantomime, Statue-Poses." Lectures given and classes formed in dif- f erei^ cities. For circulars and particulars address MRS. COLEMAN f . BISHOP, 230 First St. N. E.,Washington, D. C. Mrs. Bishop is one of the regular lecturers at the great Chautauqua Assembly, Chau- tauqua, N. Y. The Delsarte Department there under her charge has made a remark- able success. Corsets, Waists, and Braces. Physiological principles are ap- plied in the construction of these articles. Conforming in elegant fit to the form, the^^ yet permit of perfectly free movement of the body, and form no rigid outlines. Delsarte teachers and students should wear them. Send for illus- trated price-list. DELSAETE COESET CO., 142 West 23d Street, New York. 328 AD VBR TISEMENTS. Miss Wessie Adkisson, PRINCIPAL OF ELOCUTION :: DEPARTMENT, Sulphur Springs, Texas. Mrs. Lizzie Pershing Anderson, Principal of School of Elocution, Music, and Literature. Engagements accepted for Public Readings. 64 Union Ave., Allegheny, Pa. MISS GRACE C. BELL, Teacher of the Delsarte System of Esthe- tic Physical Culture. Shakespearian Read- ing Taught. 1333 N. i6th St., Philadelphia, Pa. MISS RHODA R. BOWLES, Teacher of the Delsarte Art of Gesture and its Application to Physical and Esthetic Culture. 341 Western Ave., Allegheny, Pa. MRS. SARA HERSHEY EDDY, Teacher of the Art and Science of Sing- ing. The Beaurivage, 1B4 Michigan Ave., Chicago, III. IDA e:. hkyiv, Public • Reader • and • Elocutionist. Instruction given in all Departments of Elocution. Voice-culture and Dia- lects made a specialty. 1607 N. 21st Street, Philadelphia, Pa. Miss Margaret Virginia Jenkins, Delsarte System of Expression. Permanent address, 1501 Broadway, New York. 1889-90, Charleston, S. C. MINNIE M. JONES, Lecturer on and Teacher of Delsarte Sys- tem of Natural Expression. 1710 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. MRS. BELLA TH0MAS~N16H0LS, Pupil of Delle Sedie, of Paris. Teacher and Mezzo-Soprano Soloist. Concerts and Ora- torios. Thoroughly understands Develop- ing the Voice and Dramatic Expression. Address 233 West 45th St., New York. ALICE L. O'BRIEN, Public Reader and Teacher of Elocution. Melody in Speech by the late Prof. Ray- mond's method ; also Delsarte System of Gesturing. Address Ft. Edward Institute, Fort Edward, N. Y. JULIA A. ORUM'S ©cr)©©] i^ ©T t^ ol©culi©r)^ 1520 Chestnut Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA. MRS. T. J. PllEECE, Teacher of Delsarte System of Physical Culture and Elocution. Special attention given to Public School Work. Address Hotel Ryan, St. Paul, or Care of Preece & Latsch Co., Winona, Minn. AD VER TISEMENTS. 329 IWIISS M. H. BALDWIN, *''* Delsarte Principles Applied to the Voice in Speaking and Singino^, Giving Natural Placing, Flexible 3Iuscuiar Action and Musical Tone ; and Enabling Continued Use of the Voice Without Injury to the Vocal Organs. 29 West 42d St.. New York. IWIME. LUISA CAPPIANI, 1 VI Teacher of the Art of Singing Accord- ing to the Old Italian Method. Pupils fill Prominent Positions on Concert and Ope- ratic Stage. 123 West 39thL St., New York. pVA COSCARDEN, B. E., *-^ Professor of Elocution and Delsarte Esthetics. Normal and Special Courses for Teachers and Public Readers. East Green- wich Academy, East Greenwich., R. I. JWIRS. LEILA ELLIS, Reader and Teacher, receives at 930 Sutter |St., San Francisco, pupils in classes or for individual lessons : Delsarte Physical Culture, Oratory, Drama. Teacher at Mills' College, Girls' High School, San Francisco, Theological Seminary, Oakland, Cal. lUIISS MAY GLEASON, IVI rpi^g Distinguished Elocutionist, is open for enga2:ements for Public and Parlor Readings. Highly indorsed b^^ the Press in all parts of tiie country. An extensive repertorv. For terms and dates applv to J. F. Douthitt. Oriental Bureau, 2^*^ Fifth Ave., New York City, or to 3Iiss Gleason, 1.503 Mass. St., Lawrence, Kan. I EMUEL B. C. JOSEPHS, Delsarte Teacher and Lecturer, Trainer in .Esthetic Physical Culture and Dramatic Expression. Engagements made w^ith Classes through the Country. Address care of Werner's Voice Magazine, 28 West 23d St., New York. IWflSS SAIDEE V. MILNE, *'* Humorous and Dramatic Reader. Original Recitations a Specialty. Engage- ments made for Public and Drawing-Room Recitals. Best Musical Talent furnished if desired. Address Care of Werner's Voice Magazine, 28 West 23d St., New York. JENNIE O'NEILL POTTER, Entertainer for Public and Social En- tertainments. Western Dialect a Specialty. Pupils Instructed in Natural Expression. Under the 3Ianagement of Major J. B. Pond. EVERETT HOUSE, Union Square, N. Y. QT. CATHERINE'S ACADEMY, Conducted by the Sisters of St. Dominic. Terms : Board and Tuition, 5 Mos., §112.50 Washing, .... 20.00 Music and Painting form Extra Charges. For particulars address Sister Superior, Benicia, Solano Co., Cal. TWT ISS ANNA WARREN STORY, Public Reader and Teacher of Voice- Culture. Delsarte System and Italian 3Iethod. Engagements for Public and Par- lor Readings Desired. Amateurs Coached. Address care of Werner's Voice Magazine, 28 West 23d St., New York. Howard MalGom Ticknor, M.A., Voice-Development for Speaker or Singer. Delivery, Gestm^e, Action, Philosophical Expression. Large Experience, Best Methods, Fine Results. References to Successes with Teachers, Readers, Actors, Vocalists and Private Pupils. 175Tremont St., Boston. MR. J. F. VON DER HEIDE, Prof, of Singing in the N. Y. Conser- vatory of Music. Training of the Voice according to the Principles of the old Italian School. A Study of the Natural Movements of the Voice ; and Complete Musical Educa- tion for Singers. For Private Instruction, Address Steinway Hall, New York. 330 AD VER TISEMENTS, Mrs. Hattie Augusta Prunk, Principal of Indiana School of Elocution and Expression of Indianapolis. (Established 1879.) All Branches of Dramatic Art taught, including the Delsarte System of Expres- sion. 368 West NeAV York St., Indianapolis, Tnd. CHARLES ROBERTS, TEACHER OF ELOCUTION ASD PUBLIC READER, No. 15 East 16th Street, NEW YORK. Mrs. LouisG Huinplirey~Sinltfc, DRAMATIC READER, TEACHER OP DELSARTE SYSTEM OF EXPRESSION JStudio, 32 O'Farrell Street, San Francisco, Cal. JAMES E, TAYLOR, -;- Header f-:- Illustrated Lectures on American History and Ireland. 344 West 19th Street, New York. MRS. LAURA J. TISDALE, ELOCUTION AND DRAMATIC ART, Delsarte System, EOOM D, CENTRAL MUSIC HALL, Chicago f III. ADA WEBSTER WARD, Cure of Speech-Defects a Specialty. Cracked and Falsetto Voices Remedied. Public Reader and Teacher of Expressive Reading. Address Care of Werner's Voice Magazine, 28 West 23d Street, New York. ELOCUTION, STAGE-TRAINING, By Prof. KEENAN. Twenty-five years Actor, Public Reader, and Instructor in Dramatic Art. Terms moderate. Spencer Hall, 114 West 14th St., NEW YORK CITY. LILLIE E. WARREN, Speech-Defects Treated. Articulation Teaching for the Deaf 239 West 2 1 st Street, NKV/ YORK:. MISS ANNA WEBB, Teacher of Elocution and Pub- lic Reader, WARD'S SEMINARY, NASHVILLE, TENN. MRS. HARRIET WEBB, Public Reader. Teacher of Elocution and Dramatic Art. Preparing Teachers a Specialty. Address care of Wer- ner's Voice Magazine, 28 West 23d Street, - New York. THE MOTT SAXTON G0LLE6E Elocution, Oratory and Dramatic Art. Large Stage, Scenery, etc. Address DENVER, COL. MISS LIZZIE HELENA SOULE, Public Reader, Instructor in all Branches of Elocution. Delsarte Theory. Address 368 COLUMBUS AVE,. Boston, Mass. AD VERTISEMEJM TS. SYSTEM OF 331 DELSART£""^'° EXPRESSION By GEIVEVIEVE STEBBIN^. PRESENTED FOR THE FIRST TIME IN A WAY PLAIN, PRACTICAL, HELPFUL. * * Designed Especially for a Text-Book and for Self-Instruction. * * * * A BOOK OF /ESTHETIC PHYSICAL TRAINING FOR ALL PER- SONS OF CULTURE. AND PARTICULARLY FOR THE Elocutionist, Orator, Actor, Public Reader, Law- yer, Freaclier, Painter, Sculptor, and all Others wlio wisli to give Expres- sion to their Bodies or to tlieir Work. Author and Publisher have spared neither labor nor expense in their endeavor to produce a ivork that shall satisfy the widespread desire for something tangible and serviceable on the Delsarte System. Every exercise has been subjected to repeated personal test^ and great care given to the description of attititde and movement. The writings and teachings of Delaumosne, Arnaud and Mackaye (pupils of Delsarte) the luthor has supplemented with years of study under other masters — in different capitals, at the Paris Conservatoire, etc., — and has drawn from various additional sources, ancient and mod- ern. She has taken all they had to give, pruning, analyzing, comparing, adapting, formula- ting, constructing, and testing theories, principles, rules and methods by years of personal practical experience as teacher, elocutionist, public reader, and actress. So far as the Delsarte System is known, so far as it can be reduced to definitions and exercises, both author and pub- lisher do now place this book before the public as the best that can be written ; trusting that, besides being a guide and help to the oratorical and dramatic student, it will contribute toward rescuing the life-work of Francois Delsarte from the threatening oblivion and from the misun- derstanding, mysticism and contempt into which it has fallen. Delsarte's gymnastics differ from others in that they are not mechanical. Each has a men- tal, emotional, sesthetic value and intent. No exercise is prac- ticed simply for the physical result, but for the purpose of developing body, mind _<^;2i^ soul, and harmonizing their re- ciprocal relations, influences and effects. By a happy, ludicious ming- ling of philosophy and drill ex- ercises, the author has avoided making the book either "00 metaphysical or too mechani- cal. Both the reasoning stu- dent and the practical stud'^nl will be satisfied. Every g m- nastic has its philosophical ex- planation, every principle its physical application. The book is arranged in div^ sions and lessons ; with head- ings, sub-headings, numbered paragraphs, the gymnastics grouped and classified, type of various sizes and differently dis- played, an order of exercises for systematic practice and blank pages for explanations and re- marks an exhaustive index ; it is well suited for class-work. SIXTEEN CHARTS (drawn expressly for this book from living models) ; NINETEEN SETS OF /ESTHETIC GYMNASTICS, INCLUDING DECOMPOSING EX- ERCISES, RECOiMPOSING EXERCISES, HARMONIC POISE OF BEARING, A GAMUT OF EXPRESSION IN PANTOMIME, SPIRAL MOVEMENT, FEATHER MOVEMENT, Etc. Clotli, Address the Publisher, ^3.00, postpaid. EDGAR S. WERNER, as AVest 23d Street, New York. 332 ADVERTISEMENTS. Established 1879. Werner'8 Voice Magazine: (Formerly "The Voice.") A Monthly Journal for those Who Read, Who Speak, and Who Sing, For Teacher and Pupil; Reader and Singer; Lecturer and Preacher; Lawyer and Actor; Legislator and Physician; Parent and Speech-Sufferer ; Theorist and Practician. A Guide for the Restoring, the Cultivating and the Preserving of the Voice FOR SPEECH AND FOR SONG. Respiration, Phonation, Modulation, Intonation, Articulation, Enunci- ation, Pronunciation, Conversation, Gesticulation, Personation. WERNER'S VOICE MAGAZINE Has the Leading Specialists of the World for its Contributors. It is the press exponent of the human voice in its manifold phases ; treats of its uses and capabilities ; gives directions for its cultivation and management, whether in singing", preaching, lecturing, reading, or conversing ; points out the way to remedy its bad habits or defects and to restore it to healthful action, organic and functional. It is a journal which discusses pulpit and secular oratory ; the meth- ods of teaching reading and declamation in schools ; the various systems of cultivating the voice for singing ; elocution; the art of con- versation ; and, in fact, everything pertaining to the speaking and the singing voice. Published Monthly at $1.50 a Year in Advance; Single Copy, 15 cents. Address the Editor and Proprietor, EDGAR S. WERNER, 28 West 23d Street, New York. ADVERTISEMENTS. 333 A BOOK THAT EVERY VOICE-USER SHOULD HAVE. Gymnastics of the Voice: A SYSTEM OF CORRECT BREATHING IN SINGING AND SPEAK. ING, BASED UPON PHYSIOLOGICAL LAWS. A Practical Guide in the Training and Use of tlie S^>eaking and Singing-Voice, DESIGNED FOB SCHOOLS AXD FOR SELF-INSTRUCTION, By OSKAR GUTTMANN. Part I treats of the Anatomy of the Respiratory and Vocal Organs. Part II treats of the Activity of the Vocal Organs. Part III treats of the Correct Pronunciation of Letters and the Correc- tion of Defects. Part IV treats of Respiration in a Masterly Manner, giving full Directions and Exercises for Practice. POINTS OF SUPERIORITY : — (1) It is founded on natural, scientific laws. (2) It is safe. (3) It is plain and practical. (4) It has been thoroughly tested. (5) It has produced satisfactory results. (6) It is recognized as authority in America and in Europe. (7) It has been translated into a number of languages. (8) It is used as a text- book in Harvard University, in other schools and by private teachers. (9) It is com- plete and comprehensive, yet concise. (10) It is original in design, convenient in arrangement, and unequalled in excellence. (11) It is finely printed and bound and fully illustrated. (12) It is a sure guide in the training of the voice. (13) It is sold at a low price. 28 Illustrations. Finely Printed and Bound. ;^i.25 Postpaid. Address rfie Publisher, EDGAR S. WERNER, 28 West 23d Street, New York. 334 ADVERTISEMENTS. THK Vv^ORKS OK A. MELVILLE BELL. 1. E;ssays and Postscripts on Elocution. Price $1 25« Contents: The Science of Elocution, Faults in Heading and Speaking, English Pronunciation, Englisli Phonetic Elements, Alphabetics, Relation of Tones to Language, The Tones of Speech, The Instrument of Speech, Respiration in Speech, Phonetic Syllabication, Accent, Emphasis, Rhythm as Affecting Reading, Rhyme as Affecting Pronunciation, Expressive Speech, Action, Class Characteristics of Delivery, Defects and Impediments of Speech, Or- thography, Visibility of Speech, Imitation, Reading and Readers, Oratory and Orators, An Alphabet of Orators, A Shadow-Class of Students. 2* Principles of Elocution (new edition.) Price $1.50. This book contains a summary of the principles of Vocal Physiology; an original analysis of the Tones of Speech, and the Laws of Emphasis, and a full development of the Principles of Expressive Delivery, Gestures, etc. Illus- trated by 200 passages marked for exercise. 3« Principles of Speecti, Dictionary of Sounds and Cure of Stammering. Price $1.50. In this Work the Theory of Articulation and the Mechanism of Vowel and Consonant Sounds are minutely explained. All the elements of English speech are separately treated of in dictionary arrangement, with reference to the defects to which they are subject, arid Exercises are prescribed for the attainment of a standard of correctness. Stammering and Stuttering are fully defined, and directions are given by which the sufferer can, by his own efforts, remove the impediments. 4. Tlie Faults of Speech. Price 60 cts. A self-corrector and Teachers' Manaul for the removal of Defects of Ar- ticulation. Clear, simple and practical directions are fnrnislied for I he removal of Stammering and Stuttering, as well as Lispinir, Burring and all minor blemishes of speech. Entirely free from technicalities and equally adapted to the needs of the teacher or the self-corrector. 5. Sounds and tlieir Relations. Price $1.50, cloth $2.00. In this work the varieties and relations of all Linguistic Sounds are ex- plained by means of the Visible Speech Symbols. A Complete Manual for those commencing the study of the System of Visible Speech. 6. Visible Speech. Reader. Price 40 cts. A book for the Nursery and the Primary School . On the basis of " Sounds and their Relations." !r. Visible Speecli. Inaugural Edition, 4to. Price $4.00. The Science of Universal Alphabetics. Self-interpreting, Physiological Letters for writing all Languages in One Alphabet, and for teaching the deaf to speak. Illustrated by Tables, Diagrams and Examples. 8. Englisli Visible Speecli for tlie Million. Price 40 cts. For teaching the exact pronunciation of the language to native, foreign or illiterate learners. On the basis of the '' Inaugural Edition." Illustrated by diagrams. 9. Tile Emplia sized Liturgy. Price $1.00. With an introductory essay on the Principles of Public Heading. In th)S work, the Morning, Evening, Communion and Burial Services, and all the Collects, are marked for emphasis and clause. 10. En^^Iisli liine-Writing. Price 60 cents. On the basis of "Sounds and their Relations." In this work the Line- Alphabet is applied to English in two forms : (1) partially phonetic— an intro- ductory method for children; (2j exactly phonetic. Heading Exercises are furnished in both forms, and a theoretical explanation of the alphabet is appended. 11. Lectures on Phonetics. Price 60 cents. Delivered in Johns Hopkins University, and Oxford University (England), Sent postpaid 07i receipt of pi^ice. Address the Publisher, EDGAR S. WERNER, 28 West 23d Street, New York, ADVERTISEMENTS. 335 AVON C. BURNHAM, BHYSIGAL • ©ULrpUl^ISJr, • I^EADBr^, ETC., ETC. DRAMATIC ELOCUTION A SPECIALTY. Residence, 995 Dean St., Brooklyn, N. Y. WERNER'S REHDINGS • AND • RECITflTIOJIS. 1^0. X.^^%n^Xx5\x ©lassies. Compiled and Arranged by SARA SIGOURNEY RICE. In making this collection, the purpose has been to offer a class of readings that can be approved by a refined taste and a cultivated judgment. The opinion has, to a certain extent, obtained acceptance that highly-M^rought, sensational elocutionary selections are alone likely to insure attention. WERNER'S READINGS AND RECITATIONS are designed to elevate the student's thought and inspire him with admiration for the purer forms of English litera- ture ; also to awaken careful, analytical study. 250 Pages, from the following Authors: Edwin Arnold, Matthew Arnold, William E. Aytoun, Richard H. Barliam, li. D. Blackniore, Mrs. Elizabeth Barrett Browaiing, Robert Browning, Robert Buchanan, Thomas Carlyle, Dinah Mulock Craik, Charles Dickens, Austin Dobson, Amelia B. Edwards, George Eliot, Mary Fletcher, James A. Froude, Thomas Hood, Jean Ingelow, Charles Kingsley, Charles Eamb, Thomas B, Macaulay, Charles Mackay, OAven Meredith, John Milton, Thomas Moore, Wiiliam Morris, Dante G. Rossetti, W^alter Scott, Alfred Tennyson, Frederick Tennyson, W. M. Thackeray. Paper Binding, 35 cts. ; Cloth Binding, 60 cts.; Extra Cloth Binding, $1.00, Postpaid. JLddress the I*uhlis7ier, EDGAR S. WERNER, 28 West 23(1 Street, New York. 336 AD VER TISEMENTS. AnjeriGan Acadeiuy of tbe Dramatic Arts. Lyceum Theatre Building, N. Y. Franklii^ H, Sargent, Director, Henry C. De Mille, David Be- LAsco, Fred WiiiDiAMs, Nedson Wheatcroft, Jesse Widdiams, Charles Walcot, Eleanor Gteorgen, Arturo Novissimo, Ed- ward HoLST, Lester Shaffner, F. Townsend Southwick, Will A. Buckland, Dr. W. Gr. Anderson, and Lecturers. Courses of instruction in Dramatic Action, Dramatic Diction (Elocution) and Literature, Rehearsals and Performances, "Stage Business '' and Traditions, Voice and Singing (and Operatic Class), Pantomime, Dancing, Characterization, Fencing, "Make Up "" and Costum- ing, Hygiene and Physical Training, etc. The regular Academic Course, for the Professional Stage only, begins in October. Spe- cial private lessons are given in each branch of study. The number of admitted students is limited. Address or apply to B. F. BOEDER, Secretary's Office, 22 East 24th Street, New York, N. Y. MRS. ELEANOR GEORGEN, Dmmatic ^^ atid ^ Humorous ^^ Keeitatiotiist, AND INSTRUCTOR IN THE "DELSARTE SYSTEM OF EXPRESSION," At the American Academy of the Dramatic Arts, Lyceum T?ieatre Building, New York. Private pupils received. Elocution, voice-culture, and every department of stage and platform work thoroughly taught. Through extensive experience and careful training under the best instructors, Mrs. Georgen is well qualified to impart her excellent methods to her pupils. Engagements may be made with Mrs. Georgen to recite for drawing-room enter- tainments, churches, societies, etc. Circulars upon application. RESIDENCE: /J/ Buena Vista zAvemie, _ _ _ Yonkers, U^ew York. I f/ I'