c6r€rs •Successful II • 10 V CiPALGFTHE K f? awn ScHOO ORATORY. \*T yyyif \ 5HERS LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. l^qt^iJ ©0j^rig|t Ifa, Shelf '..$>% , t UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. SCORER'S Successful Selections — AND — PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. A TREATISE OX THE SCIENCE AND ART OF ELOCUTION, WITH A COLLECTION OF TESTED AND APPROVED SE- LECTIONS FOR RECITATION ON ALL OCCASIONS. Including the Choicest Gems of Elocution and Ora- tory from the Editor's own Repertoire. EVERY PIECE A MASTERPIECE, The Best Selections for Elocutionary Purposes to be found in the whole range of english literature. ESPECIALLY DESIGNED FOR ADVANCED STUDENTS, TEACHERS, AND PROFESSIONAL RECITERS. EDITED BY JOHN G. SCORES, M. O., PRINCIPAL OF '■ ■ ■ • ■ • ^ ■ ,;, : w* -X Incorporated May, 1892. PUBLISHED BY J. R. HOLCOMB & COMPANY. CLEVELAND, O. V ^x 4w 1° x Copyright, 1892, by J. R. HOLCOMB & CO. Copyright, 1894, by JOHN G. SCORER. PART FIRST. PREFACE The subject of Elocution is here presented as a Science and an Art. The Science consists of its true principles ; the Art consists in the manner of presenting them. Science is the knowledge of Art and Art is the practice of Science. Science investigates and applies the principles ; Art gives practical illustration to the principles. As a Science it teaches us to know ; as an Art it teaches us to do. The principles spring out of the nature of things, being based upon fundamental laws, and are not simply the arbitrary rules of skillful teachers. It has been our aim to present the subject of Elocution in this manual in a simplified form, with clearness, and perspi- cuity. The treatment of many of the divisions is unique ; still it is in complete harmony with the most modern and advanced but approved methods of instruction in Speech Arts. Ambi- guity has been studiously avoided. AVhile the course is complete and comprehensive, confusing, non-essential details have been omitted. The student should be educated upon a well-regulated and scientific plan of instruction ; he should be given real and not superficial culture. The aim of the true teacher should be to foster artistic growth and development ; look to quality rather than quantity. Notwithstanding improved methods of instruction, there is still no royal road to excellence in the Science and Art of Elocution. To reach the goal requires assiduous and pains- taking labor, but it is well worthy of the greatest effort, for "Of equal honor with him who writes a great poem, is he who reads it grandly." John G. Scorer. PART SECOND-PREFACE. We have aimed to make this volume a veritable- bouquet of the choicest flowers of literature, for elocu- tionary purposes, to be found in the whole world of English Letters. The book will, at least, be unique among publications of its class, as it has been made up on a new plan. Nothing has been admitted simply to "fill up." In- stead of including worthless clippings and ephemeral literature of no elocutionary value, we have admitted hone but pre-eminently successful selections of un- doubted merit. Instead of cutting the selections down to ridiculous limits, as many do to make a large list, thus render- ing them worthless, we have aimed to include really valuable selections of appropriate length and as many of them as a generous volume would admit. Thinking per- sons will discriminate here. Most of the selections have been drawn from the editor's own repertoire, and many of them have never be- fore been published. He has tested them before large and cultured audiences, and they have invariably been received with marked favor. The list includes a wide range of Selections, express- ing nearly every shade of Sentiment, — something suitable for all occasions. It is a symmetrical many-sided collec- tion of both old and new Pieces, certain to become favor- ites wherever properly presented. The selections have been carefully edited and revised when necessary to better adapt them to elocutionary pur- poses. As a guide to the student, we have in the Table of Contents indicated the general character of each selection. The prevailing style of a piece determines its class. The book is especially intended for the use of students and teachers in our public schools and colleges and for professional reciters. It represents our best effort in this line. We invite comparison and are content to have the fortunes of the book determined by its merit. To those who have allowed us the use of Selections upon which they hold the copyright, and to co-laborers for fraternal courtesies, we extend our thanks. J. G. S. CONTENTS-PART I. PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. tage, Anger, Hurry and Commotion, .... 39 Arm Movements, ...... 44 Articulation, 19 Bible Heading, 40 Breathing, .11 Climax, 34 Dialect, 42 Didactic Selections, 39-41 Difficult Yowel Sounds, 19 Emphasis, Rules for, 27 Expressive Movements of the Lower Limbs, . 43 Expression, . 35 Features, 48 Force, 30 Cayety, 3S Gesture, 43-48 Grand, Sublime, and Reverential Selections, 3S Hands Clinched, . . 47 Humorous Selections, 39 Hymn Reading, 41 Index Finger, The, 47 Impersonation, 41 IVIelody, 22 Narrative, Descriptive and Didactic Selections, 39 Oratory, 38 Pathos, .35 Pauses, Rhetorical and Grammatical, . . 23-24 Pitch, 29 Positions of the Feet, 43 Principle of Opposition, 47 Quality of Voice, 16 Quotations, Reading of, ... . . 33 Rhyme and Pronunciation, .... 21 Serenity, Beauty, Love, and Tranquility, . 37 Solemnity, 37 Special Gestures, 46 Stress, 33 Time, 33 Uses of the Principal Lines, .... 44 Voice Development, 13 CONTE NTS-P ART II. PAGE. JVffected % Young Lady, An, Humorous, ... 53 Agnes I Love Thee, Humorous, .... 69 Alex-and-Her, Humorous, 109 American Evolution, Oratorical, Chauncey M. Depew. 124 Aunty Parson's Mission Story, Presbyterian Journal. 146 Ben-Hur, The Story of, Synopsis by J. G. Scorer. 141 Bill Mason's Bride, Dramatic, . . Bret Harte. 137 Black as a Nager, Humorous, .... 99 Blue Wart, The, Humorous, . . . . 112 Bobolink, The, Sentimental, . . The Aldine. 154 Charge of the Light Brigade, Dramatic, Tennyson. 30 Character of Washington, Oratorical, . Everett. 130 Christopher Columbus, Humorous, Arr. J. G. Scorer. 52 Connor, Pathetic, .... Dr. Parker. 24 Conundrum, . . . . . . . .71 Courtin', The, Humorous, . James Russell Lowell. 33 Darius Green and His Flying Machine, Trowbridge. 15 Dick Swiveller and the Marchioness, Dickens. 59 Don't Cry, Pathetic, . . James Whitcomb Biley. 153 Doom of Claudius and Cynthia, Maurice Thompson. 72 Drifting, Tranquility, . . . T. B. Bead. 115 Dying Christian to His Soul, . Alexander Pope. 110 Daffodils, Tranquility, . William Wordsworth. 164 Encounter of Miles Standish with the Indians, Dramatic, . . . .II. W. Longfellow. 12 Encounter with an Interviewer, Samuel L. Clemens. 100 Engineers Making Love, . . B. J. Burdette. 158 Ever so Far Away, Humorous, . . Von Boyle. 138 Fitz-James and Boderick Dhu, Dramatic, Scott. 64 Foreign Views of the Statue, Fred Emerson Brooks. 57 Foxes' Tails, The, Humorous, ...» 106 Frenchman's Opinion of the Tragedy of Macbeth, A, Humorous, 116 Grand Army Badge, The, Pathetic, Jack' Crawford. 133 Had Been Dipped, Humorous, .... 14b Heart's Ease, Pathetic, 104 Hindoo Tale, A, Humorous, .... 114 Hotspur's Defence, Dramatic, . . Shakspeare. 87 How "Ruby" Played, Humorous, Arr. by J. G. Scorer. 36 Hullo, Humorous, . . . S. W. Foss. 127 ix. CONTEXTS— PART II.— Continued. PAGE. Hymn to Mount Blanc, Grandeur, S. T. Coleridge. 77 |mph-m" Humorous, . . . James Nicholson. 32 In an Atelier, Scene in an Artist's Studio, Aldrich. 49 Irishman and Donkey, Humorous, ... 63 Jerry, the Newsboy, Dramatic, Mary Lowe Dickinson. 144 John Burns of Gettysburg, Dramatic, Bret Hatte. 40 Klll a Fiddler, Humorous, . . . . 156 Last Hymn, The, Musical, Marianne Farningham. 85 Lavery's Hens, Humorous, 93 Laughing Encore, ... J. G. Scorer. 132 Little Cripple, The, Joyous, James Whitcomb Riley. 70 Little Stow- away, Pathetic, 92 Low-Backed Car, The, Humorous, Samuel Lover. 22 Mammy's Li'l' Boy, A Lullaby, . H. S. Edwards. 151 Me and Jim, Humorous, . . Chicago Times. 142 NfGHT of Troubles, A, . "Josiah Allen's Wife." 54 Old Clock on the Stairs, Solemnity, Longfellow. 96 Old Sayings, Humorous, Revised by J. G. Scorer. 79 Opportunities, Humorous, 156 Orthod-ox Team, The, Humorous, Fred E. Brooks. 128 Polish Boy, The, Dramatic, . Ann S. Stephens. 9 Popular Suffrage and Education, J. A. Garfield. 123 Rastus," Humorous, 110 Ruggleses' Dinner-Party, The, Humorous, Wiggin. 44 Shamus O'Brien, Dramatic, . . Samuel Lover. IIS Similar Case, A, Humorous, 84 So Was I, Humorous, . . Joseph Bert Smiley. 160 Song of the Camp, Musical, . Bayard Taylor. 7 Song of the Winter Winds, William 31. Clark. 159 Sticking Right to Business, Humorous, . . 95 Stutterers, The Three, Humorous, .... 156 Sublime and the Ridiculous, The, ... 76 Tall Gentleman, A, Humorous, . . . .84 Texas Duel, A, Humorous, . . . . 117 Too Late for the Train, Humorous ... 80 Toussaint L'Ouverture, Oratorical, Wendell Phillips. Ill Tragi-Co3iedy of Life, The, .... 126 Two Boot-Blacks, The, Humorous, ... 43 Uncle Pete and the Bait, Humorous, . . 83 VVhat the Bobolinks Said, . Belle L. Barnes. 162 Whar the Hand O'God is Seen, Capt. Jack Crawford. 161 PART FIRST. BREATHING The organs of respiration exert a great influence over the- power of the voice. Proper* control of them is very import- ant. Deep and vigorous breathing is one of life's strong holds; it is a sign of power and mind concentration; in short it is the basis of good health, and of all perfection in reading, speaking, and singing. No other action of which the body is capable affords exercise to so many vital organs. It gives in- creased lung capacity and thereby brings a greater supply of air to the lungs, quickening the circulation, purifying the blood, aiding digestion and rendering body and mind healthy and strong. Taking the breath properly, then, is of the greatest importance. The lungs should be trained to free, full and powerful action; the muscles that control the breath should be perfectly disciplined. BREATHIXG EXEKC1SES. Attitude of the Body. — Stand erect, heels together,, toes at an angle of seventy degrees, weight of body resting on both feet, the shoulders well back, head up with the chin drawn slightly in: place the hands on the hips with the thumbs on the small of the back and the fingers on the abdominal muscles in front. How to Breathe. — Breath should be taken noiselessly through the nose, except when employed as a means of expres- sion, as in fright, surprise, etc. In the following exercises there must be no upward movement of the shoulders. The greater the length of time occupied in each exercise the better the result. After each exercise take a full inspira- tion for a rest. Chest Breathing for the upper part of the lungs. In- flate the chest to its fullest capacity, retain the air for a moment, then breathe out gradually and quietly. Abdominal Breathing for the lower part of the lungs. Contract the waist muscles in front, then inhale and thrust the muscles out as far as you can. 12 scorer's successful recitations. Costal Breathing for the side muscles. Bend body sideways to the right. Inhale slowly and distend the left side; exhale slowly and resume erect position. Eepeat the exercise, bending to the left. Dorsal Breathing for the muscles of the back. Inhale and thrust out the dorsal muscles by the force of the air. Deep Breathing, the combination of the preceding ex- ercises, for the entire lung capacity. Take a full inspiration and exercise the will upon all parts of the body at the same time. This, in a less intensified form, should be our natural way of taking the breath. Effusive Breathing. — Inhale naturally, then give out the breath in a prolonged sound of the letter A. . Expulsive Breathing. — Take a full inhalation, then give out the air forcibly on the sound of the letter h. Explosive Breathing. — Take a full breath and exhale with a sudden force the letter h. Packing the Lungs. — Take a full inspiration, inhaling rapidly, then insert a pipe stem in the mouth and through it draw in more air. Exercise for Erect Carriage of the Body. — Take a full inspiration, expand the chest to its utmost, keep the abdo- men flat. Hold tfye muscles in this position while counting twenty and advance a step at each count. THE BKEATH IN TONE PEODUCTION. The diaphragm, the large muscle which separates the lungs and the heart from the viscera, and the waist muscles, constitute the primary instrument in the production of tone. The sustaining power of the voice lies in these muscles. They are the motive or propelling power. Their power does not center at the diaphragm, but at the waist, at the point of greatest girth. The larynx, tongue, teeth, lips, etc., constitute the second- ary instrument. The Larynx is the place where vocal sounds are made, and the power to produce them is derived from the combined action of the diaphragm and the waist muscles. The primary instrument constitutes the motive power; the sec- ondary the motor. The primary does the work; the secondary gives it expression. The principal cause of chronic sore throat is the failure to use the primary instrument in tone production. AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 13 In the act of speaking and singing, the action of the dia- phragm and waist muscles must be downward and outward, and not inward and upward. In ordinary respiration (breathing without producing tone), the breath is given out by relaxation; whereas, in the act of speaking and singing, it should be given out by a con- trolled effort, or resistance to the same, in order to economize brea h. This is accomplished by a downward pressure of the diaphragm and the waist muscles. The lung cavity is com- pressed by the ribs, while the out-go of the breath is regulated by the diaphragm and the waist muscles. In relaxation, we can- not perfectly control the out-go of breath; more air is usually forced out than can be converted into tone. The striking of this surplus air upon the throat produces granular pharyn- gitis ; the back part of the throat becomes congested, and in time works down to the lungs and does great harm. Observe the action of the diaphragm and the waist muscles in the following exercises: Assume a moderate emphatic po- sition, and exert yourself as if lifting a heavy weight from the floor; now as if lifting a weight overhead; now strike out with considerable energy directly in front of you, with your right hand. If the exercises are properly executed, you will find that you are stronger when the action of the diaphragm and the waist muscles is outward and downward. The above exercises are performed by physical effort. The action of the muscles in tone production is the same, therefore the ability to produce tone is physical. Relaxation in tone production, has a tendency to force the vocal organs up into the throat, which is always to be avoided. VOICE DEVELOPMENT. A voice of wide compass, good volume and pure quality, is essential to every reader and speaker. Vocality is formed by the air passing from the lungs through the glottis, causing the vocal chords to vibrate. The varying tension and relaxation of the vocal ligaments or chords, together with the vibrations of the pharynx, the mouth and the nose, which form a series of resonators or sounding-boards, regulate the volume, quality and pitch of the voice. 14 scober's successful recitations Each vocal sound consists of a ground or fundamental tone and an over-tone. The ground-tone is the one which is most prominent in the voice; it is the principal or fundamental part of the sound. Close attention to the voice reveals other tones, higher in pitch, mingled with the ground-tone. These are called the upper or over-tones of the voice. They bear a cer- tain relation to the ground-tone, which, when perfect, give harmony of sound and an effect that is pleasing. When the relations are not perfect, the voice is defective in quality and unpleasing. The various shades of thought and emotion are expressed by focalizing the voice in different parts of the mouth. Every sentiment and emotion is marked by tones which show its •character. To bring out the sentiment and emotion of pass- ages of anger, defiance, hatred, etc., the voice must be focal- ized in the front part of the mouth; in serenity, love, beauty, etc., on the hard palate; in grandeur, sublimity, etc., in the back part of the mouth or pharynx. The proper development of the voice requires vigorous vocal gymnastics. In all vocal exercises keep the jaw and the waist firm. Do not constrict the muscles of the neck and throat. Work for solidity of tone. Cultivate intensity. Earnest, systematic practice will increase the power and flexibility of the voice to an extent that will be surprising as well as gratifying. Pronounce with energy the vowel "a", focalizing it in the front part of the mouth, making it ring from the teeth. Utter the following words and sentences it the same manner : Say ! Say there ! What do you say ? Stale ale will fail to regale. "Strike, till the last armed foe expires ! Strike, for your alters and your fires ! Strike, for the green graves of your sires ! God and your native land ! " Ba, be, bi, bo. Close the lips tightly, and give a sudden opening of the vowel element, without sounding the consonant. Fa, fe, fi, fo. Fatal fevers fight foemen. Bring the upper teeth down firmly on the lower lip and give a sudden opening of the vowel. AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 15 Ha, he, hi, ho. Separate the lips on the consonant and give a sudden opening of the vowel element. Close the lips tightly after each tone and inhale through the nose. Utter the word " roll", focalizing the sound on the hard palate. Repeat it several times, sustaining the tone. If the relations of the ground-tone and the over-tones are perfect, the latter will be quite prominent. "Charco' ! charco' I" While echo faint and far replies, — "Hark, O! hark, O ! " "Charco' !"— "Hark, O!" "Blow, bugle blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying." "To all, the truth we tell— we tell! " Shouted in ecstacies a bell; "Come, all ye weary wanderers, see ! Our Lord has made salvation free. Repent ! believe ; have faith ! and then Be saved, and praise the Lord. Amen. Salvation's free, we tell — we tell ! " 'Pull ! if ye never pulled before; Good ringers, pull your best," quoth he. "Play up, play up, O Boston bells ! Ply all your changes, all your swells ! Play up The Brides of Enderby! ' ' "Cusha! Cusha! Cusha ! " (calling) "For the dews will soon be falling, Leave your meadow grasses mellow, Mellow, Mellow, Quit your cowslips, cowslips yellow ! Come up, Whitefoot! come up, Lightfoot ! Quit the stalks of Parsley hollow, Hollow, hollow!" Utter the word "roll," focalizing it in the back part of the mouth. Recite the following passages with a clear, pure tone and all the power you can command: 16 scorer's successful recitations " Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea; Jehovah hath conquered, and his people are free ! " " Stand up, stand up for Jesus, The trumpet call obey ; Forth to the mighty conflict, In this his glorious day : Ye that are men ! now serve him, Against unnumbered foes; Your courage rise with danger, And strength to strength oppose." "Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are! And glory to our Sovereign Liege, King Henry of Navarre! Now let there be the merry sound of music and the dance, Through thy cornfields green, and sunny vales, O pleasant land of France ! And thou, Eochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the waters; Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters; As thou were constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy, For cold and stiff and still are they who wrought thy walls annoy. Hurrah! hurrah! a single field hath turned the chance of war. Hurrah! hurrah! for Ivy and King Henry of Navarre ! " QUALITY. Quality relates to the kind of voice. Its natural division is into Pure and Impure. Pure Quality is recognized as Natural and Orotund. Natural Quality of voice is the medium of pure conversa- tion; as, "Is it you, Jack? Old boy, is it really you? I shouldn't have known you but that I was told you might be expected; — pray, how do you do?" "So you beg for a story, my darling, my brown-eyed Leopold; And you, Alice, with face like morning, and shining locks of gold ; Then come, if you will, and listen — stand close to my knee — To a tale of the Southern city, proud Charleston by the sea." The Orotund Quality is the result of the most complete use of the vocal organs; it is a highly improved state of the natural AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 17 voice which gives grandeur and energy to thought and expres- sion. It is recognized in three divisions, Effusive, Expulsive, and Explosive. Effusive Orotund. — In this form of the Orotund the voice is poured forth in a continuous stream. It is the voice of grand, sublime and reverential thought; as, "Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll." "O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers ! whence are thy beams, O sun! thy everlasting light?' 7 The Expulsive Orotund, instead of pouring forth in a con- tinuous stream as in the Effusive Orotund, issues in the form of a short shout. All oratorical styles require this form of utterance; as, "I do not think I exaggerate when I say that never since God made Demosthenes has He made a man better fitted for a great work than He did O'Connell. You may say that I am partial to my hero : but John Randolph of Roanoke, who hated an Irishman almost as much as he did a Yankee, when he got to London and heard O'Connell, the old slave- holder threw up his hands and exclaimed, 'That is the man, those are the lips, the*most eloquent that speak English in my day,' and I think he was right! " The Explosive Orotund is a strong instantaneous burst of the voice with a sharp, clear and sudden effect upon the ear. All selections of bold address, anger, hurry and commotion come under this head; as, "Stormed at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well : Into the jaws of death, Into the mouth of hell, Rode the six-hundred. " IMPURE QUALITY. The impure qualities are produced by imperfect action of the organs of speech. No voice can be called good which has any impure characteristics. All such qualities must be eradi- cated by careful and patient training. The reader, however, should be able to assume any of the impure qualities of voice, in order to imitate a character or express an emotion, but in ordinary use they must not be characteristic of the voice. 18 scorer's successful recitations Impure Quality is recognized as Aspirate, Guttural, Pectoral and Falsetto. In Aspirate Quality the breath preponderates. It is the language of surprise, caution, secrecy, fear, etc. This is the simplest form of speech. The breath passes through the glottis, the vocal chords remaining laxed, into the mouth where it is articulated. The supply of breath must be full and well controlled, in order to make it audible. The chief characteristic of the aspirate quality is distinctness; its acquisition is therefore of great value. "Hark I hear the bugles of the enemy ! They are on their march along the bank of the river ! We must retreat in- stantly, or be cut off from our boats ! I see the head of their column already rising over the height ! Our only safety is in the screen of this hedge. Keep close to it — be silent — and stoop as you run ! For the boats ! Forward ! " "Ha ! who comes here ? I think it is the weakness of mine eyes That shapes this monstrous apparition. It comes upon me ! Art thou any thing ? Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, That makest my blood cold, and nfy hair stand? Speak to me what thou art." The Guttural Quality is a vicious use of the vocal organs; the sounds are harsh and are formed largely in the throat. It is used in expressing contempt, aversion, revenge, disgust, etc. To acquire this quality utter, in a harsh tone of voice, the consonants t, d, j, k, g, and 1 ; also such words as -revenge, rage, rancor, havoc, fury, accursed, savage, hence, slave, in- human, etc. Do not force the base of the tongue down against the back part of the throat, and you will avoid "rasping" it. "How like a fawning publican he looks ! I hate him for he is a Christian ; If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation ; and he rails, Even there where merchants most do congregate, On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe, If I forgive him ! " AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 19 The Pectoral Quality is one result of a relaxed condition of the vocal organs and is found below the medium register of the voice ; it is used to express awe, horror, dread and re- morse. It is also the language of supernatural beings. " 1 am thy father's spirit; doomed for a certain time to walk the night, and for the day confined to fast in fires, till the foul crimes done in my days of nature, are burned and purged a'way." The Falsetto Quality is found above the medium register of the voice, as in children's and high-pitched female voices. It expresses extreme surprise, mockery, terror, anger, pain, affection, etc. ''Speak no n^ore of Mortimer! Zounds, I will speak of him, and let my soul want mercy if I do not join with him." "Good night ! Papa, Jessie see you in the morning." "Well, ye ain't gom to set there like a bump on a log 'thout sayin' a word to pay for your vittles, air ye? " ARTICULATION. Articulation consists in forming and joining the element- ary sounds of speech into syllables. The tone as it issues from the vocal organs, is shaped by the mouth and nose into definite vowel forms, or into consonants by the tongue, teeth, palate and lips. A good articulation can be acquired by the use of the will, by resolution, and by practicing the elementary sounds, both separately and in combination. Rigidly practice the vowels and consonants and difficult combinations until a distinct ar- ticulation is acquired. For recreation in articulation, practice "The Two Boot- Blacks," page 43, and "A Texas Duel," page 117 of this work. DIFFICULT VOWEL SOUNDS. The following difficult vowel sounds are often mispro- nounced : 30 scorer's successful recitations A, as in arm. 00, as in ooze. A, as in ask. 00, as in book. A, as in air. U, as in duty. E and I, as in her and sir. Long Italian a (a) occurs in monosyllables and accented syllables, before r final, or r followed by a consonant, also in the derivatives of such words. It is frequently mispronounced when followed by n't, If, lm, and ch, as in the words can't, calf, calm, and mustache, avaunt taunt, daunt, haunt, flaunt, qualm, laugh, pardon, psalm, wrath, salve, aunt, balm, palm, saunter, laundry, hearth, launch, haunch, half, barn, darn, ha, yarn, bath. Form short sentences each containing one of the above words. Short Italian a (a) differs from the long Italian a only in quantity. It is chiefly found in monosyllables, ending in ff, ft, sh, sk, sp, st, with a few in nee and n't. Pass class, mass, glass, grass, staff, quaff, chaff, raft, cash, ask, bask, mask, last, past, mast, gash, rasp, clasp, grasp, hasp, draft, waft, chant, slant, grant, lance, chance, advance, avast. Medial a (a) is generally followed by r. Avoid a as in arm and a as in may. Care, dare, rare, lair, hair, stare, bear, pair, prayer, pa- rent, flaring, sharing, glaring, declaring, barely, aware, scarcely, apparent, tearing. E or I followed by r in a monosyllable or an accented syllable, in which the r is not followed by another r (merry), or a vowel (merit), has the sound of e in her. This is the only sound that cannot be given alone. Verge, herd, pearl, learn, perch, stern, berth, inter, prefer, earnest, mercy, servant, per- fect, certain, defer, jerking, superb, kernel, nerve, herbage, person, vertical, mirth, dirk, first, firm, mirky, quirl, quirk, gird, sir, dirt, dirl, girl, circulate, circular, circum. Long oo and short oo are the same in quality but differ in quantity. Boom, boot, cool, coop, doom, food, fool, goose, hoof, hoop, hoot, coot, loom, loop, loose, mood, moon, noon, ooze, pool, poor, rood, room, roost, soon. Book, brook, cook, crook, foot, good, wood, cooper. The diphthong u (H) is a combination of short y and long oo. The difficulty in uttering this sound is experienced when it is preceded by d, t, 1, n, s and th. Short y is formed in the AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 21 back part of the mouth, and long oo in the extreme front. In passing from the preceding letter, which is formed in the front part of the mouth, to the u, the y sound is omitted unless care is given in pronouncing it. Due, durable, tumult, lute, numerous, sue, suit, duke, tube, Tuesday, lure, nutriment, student, dupe, tune, lunacy, lucid, nucleus, stupid, duty, tutor, Lutheran, nude, numeral, superintend, institute, thurible. When u is preceded by the sound ch, r, sh, or zh, the y is omitted. Rue, rule, ruby, rumor," Rufus, Rudolph, sure, rude r ruse, ruin, rural, Rupert, chute, surety. RHYME AND PRONUNCIATION. In reading poetry , rhyme takes 'precedence over pronunciation unless the rhyme is absurd. In each of the following extracts the word printed in small capitals must be pronounced so as to rhyme with the word in italics: "I loved thee long and dearly Florence Vane, My life's bright dream and early hath come again." "And hailed him from out their youthful lore, With scraps of a slangy repertoire. " "Can naught but blood our feud atone f Are there no means? " "No, Stranger, none." "But herein mean I to enrich my pain, To have his sight thither and back again." "Two bosoms interchained with an oath; So then, two bosoms, and a single troth." "About the wood go swifter than wind, And Helena of Athens look thou find." "Threw down his target and his plaid, And to the Lowland warrior said," "Two bats for patterns, curious fellows; A charcoal pot and a pair of bellows." No definite rule can be laid down to determine when 22 scorer's successful recitations rhyme is absurd. Use common sense and consider custom and poetic license. The following are examples of conceded ab- surd rhyme: "The infant a mother attended and loved; The mother that infant's affection who proved." "For we are the same our fathers have been; We see the same sights our fathers have seen." "But now he walks the streets, And he looks at all he meets So for lorn; And he shakes his feeble head, That it seems as if he said, They are gone." " 'Tis the last rose of summer, Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone." "Not like bluff Harry's radiant queen , But rather as she might have been." MELODY. The effect of Pitch, employed on all the words of a sen- tence, is called the Melody of Speech. Current Melody is the effect of the rise and fall of the voice, employed on all the syllables of a sentence, except the last three, and is produced partly in the concrete and partly in the discrete scale. The beauty of Current Melody consists in skillfully varying the pitch of the phrases as they progress, and in properly managing the rise and fall within the whole range of inton- ation. In unimpassioned speech, the voice in passing from one syllable to another, passes concretely through a whole tone on the musical scale. In impassioned speech, it may traverse the octave. In pathos, semitones predominate. "I cannot vouch my tale is true, nor say indeed 'tis wholly new; but true or false, or new or old, I think you'll find it fairly told." AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 23 In impassioned speech, the voice may traverse the octave. "How say'st thou now? These are Clan-Alpine's warriors true ; And, Saxon, — I am Roderick Dhu ! " In pathos, semitones predominate. " Cold is thy brow, my son! and I am chill, as to my bosom 1 have tried to press thee! " Melody of the Cadence. — The intonation, applied to the last three syllables of a positive, declarative sentence, constitutes the Melody of the Cadence. To improve the melody of your voice, practice upon the passages given in the chapter on Serenity, Beauty, Love and Tranquility. PAUSES. THE RHETORICAL PAUSE. Attention to this pause, which is simply a breathing place or "gesture of the mind," is essential to good reading. The rhetorical pause is as manifest to the ear, as is the gram- matical though not denoted by any visible sign. It wins the at- tention of your hearers, causes them to take in the portion of the thought just uttered and stimulates their imagination to conceive of what follows. The pause is made either before or after the utterance of an important word or phrase, on which it is especially desired to fix attention. A pause before the utterance of the important word or phrase awakens curiosity and excites expectation. "When a mere child I once drew | a cart load of raw turnips over a wooden bridge. The people of the village noticed me ; I drew | their attention. I have always been more or less mixed up with art ; I have an uncle who takes | photographs, and I have a servant who takes | any thing he can get his hands on." The rhetorical pauses are here represented to the eye by perpendicular strokes. When the pause occurs after the utterance of the import- ant word or phrase, it carries the mind back to what has already been said. 24 scorer's successful recitations "While stands the Coliseum, Kome shall stand; j When falls the Coliseum, Eome shall fall. | " "The voice of Heaven summons you in these hours | when the leaves fall, and the winter is gathering." A pause should always be made after an emphatic word and before and after a quotation. GRAMMATICAL PAUSES. The Grammatical Pauses, indicated by the punctuation marks, are used to give the author's meaning. The character of the utterance must determine their length. If the utterance is slow, the pauses will be longer than if the utterance is rapid. The Comma denotes a momentary suspension of the thought, hence there must be a corresponding suspension of the voice. The voice is simply suspended with a very slight upward concrete or vanish. "Since ever the world was fashioned, Water, and air, and sod, A music of divers meaning Has flowed from the hand of God." The Semicolon indicates the partial closing of , -_ the sense. The voice on the word preceding the #/ ' semicolon, passes through three notes, alternately a tone below and above the other, with a downward vanish on the third. "Doing well is the cause of a just sense of elevation of character; it clears and strengthens the spirits; it gives higher reaches of thought; it widens our benevolence, and makes the current of our peculiar affections swift and deep." The Period usually denotes a complete closing of the sense and is made with the successively m m downward radicals, from the key note of the cur- """" ^ rent melody on the last three syllables of the sentence. The vanish, on the third radical, is downward to bring the current to a complete close. In the above sentence illustrating the use of the semicolon, the intonation is applied to the words swift and deep. If the sense is not completed, being bound up in that AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 25 which follows, the intonation is that of the semicolon. "Doing well has something more in it than the fulfilling of a duty. It is the cause of, etc." At the period, in the above sentence, the intonation is that of the semicolon. The thought is not complete as it is bound up in the sentence which follows — it is only a partial closing of the sense. The Penultimate Slide is a simple upward slide of the voice on the last word of the penultimate clause, for the purpose of getting a good ending. This slide is used in selections of so- lemnity, love, beauty, tranquility and serenity; the effusive orotund and the expulsive orotund. "Over the rail my hand I trail Within the shadow of the sail, A joy intense, the cooling sense / , Glides down my drowsy indolence." "* * * are thrown out into one vast anarchy, wheel- ing and hurtling through the regions of space / without a law- giver and without a head." Place the penultimate slide on the words printed in italics. The Interrogation. Direct questions, or those that cannot be answered by yes or no, take the rising inflection. "Has there any old fellow got mixed with the boys 7 ? " "King Agrippa believest thou the prophets 7 ? " Repeated questions take the rising inflection. "What is my name 7 ? Wild Zingarella." "Where was I born 7 ? Far up in yon Sierra Nevadas." An interrogative sentence, which cannot be answered by yes or no, takes the falling inflection. "Why was I born to taste this depth of woe v ? Why closed not darkness over my infant life v ? " "Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in earth v ? Who filled thy countenance with rosy light v ? Who made thee parent of perpetual streams N ? " 26 scorer's successful recitations There is a class of sentences, the first part of which is in- terrogative and the latter part declarative, to which I desire to call attention. Instead of placing the interrogation point at the end of the sentence, it would be better to place it immedi- ately after the interrogative words and close the sentence with a period. Only that part of the sentence which is interroga- tive should be read interrogatively. Note the punctuation in the following sentence : " Shall we compare him with Peter the Great of Russia, who flour- ished in the beginning of the century, and hewed that political Colossus of the North into form and symmetry ?" The first part of the sentence only is interrogative. It is not a question as to whether or not he "flourished in the beginning of the century, etc." History records that he did. The sentence should be punctuated as follows, and then there would be no danger of pupils reading it as wholly interrogative: "Shall we compare him with Peter the Great of Eussia ? who flour- ished in the beginning of the century, and hewed that politi- cal Colossus of the North into form and symmetry. " "Or shall we compare him with Frederick the Second of Prussia? to whom complacent public opinion has also accorded the epithet of 'Great'." "Shall our coffers then Be emptied, to redeem a traitor home? Shall we buy treason? and indent with fears When they have lost and forfeited themselves." The Exclamation. A sentence, exclamatory in form, may be either declarative or interrogative in spirit. "Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frostM Ye wild goats sporting round the eagle's nestM Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain-stormM Utter forth God, and fill the hills with praiseM " "What if I have wronged my fellow men as well 7 ! " "Not care for gold ! 'Twas all she cared for 7 ." The Parenthesis. The parenthetical clause or sentence should be read in a lower tone, and faster time than the main text, unless the idea contained in the parenthesis is important. AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 27 THE EXPRESSION OF THE IDEA. Emphasis is the mind's valuation of thought in expression and consists in making one or more words of a sentence stand out more prominently than the other words of the sentence. If we would read as we speak, we must read ideas and not words, and speak all the words of a group, with one impulse of mind and voice. Pronounce, or write upon the blackboard, the words "H-o-r-s-e," "£7-e-phant," " In-di-vid-u-aZ-i-ty," or the sentences: "The flowers are fading. " "The sun has hid his rays." The first thought that will flash across the mind of the student, will be the idea represented — the mental conception of the subject. All the words of a group should be uttered with one im- pulse of mind and voice just as we would utter the word i 'individuality.' ' RULES FOR EMPHASIS. 1 . Every word expressing a new idea requires emphasis, 2. Words expressing that which is well known or understood > that about which nobody has any doubt, that which everybody con- cedes, need no emphasis. The subject and predicate of a sentence are usually em- phatic. Articles, pronouns, conjunctions, etc., are, as a rule, unemphatic, though any part of speech may sometimes become emphatic. The sentence, "Elocution is a useful study/ ' involves both rules. "Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss." In this; sentence, Patrick Henry desires to make the idea of non- betrayal emphatic and not that of the amount of the considera- tion of their betrayal. "But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet." The only emphatic words are, best robe, ring and shoes. Determine the emphatic words in the following sentences: " Are you going to the city to-day?" "Love laughs at lock- smiths." "Thy duty has been nobly done." "And it was the 28 scorer's successful recitations Sabbath day that the Lord made the clay and opened his eyes." " Heaven consists of all that is good and true; but Hell consists of all that is false and evil." "Slaves cannot breathe in England." "Speak the speech I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, — trippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town- crier spoke my lines." "I have gathered a posy of other men's flowers; nothing but the thread that binds them is my own." From the work-shop of the Golden Key, there issued a tinkling sound, so merry and good humored, that it sug- gested the idea of some one working blithely, and made quite pleasant music." "And had he not high honor? The hill-side for his pall ; To lie in state while angels wait With stars for tapers tall ; And the dark rock pines, like tossing plumes, Over his bier to wave ; And God's own hand, in that lonely land, To lay him in the grave ! ' ' In many cases the emphasis cannot be determined cor- rectly without knowing the context. Cassius — Do not presume too much upon my love; I may do that I shall be sorry for. Brutus — You have done that you should be sorry for. Here the words "may" and "shall" in the speech of Cassius are contrasted with the words "have" and "sorry." Without the context, the following would be the reading: "You have done that you should be sorry for." A word or phrase is sometimes repeated for the purpose of more emphasis; as, "To arms! to arms ! to ARMS ! they cry." "The charge is utterly, totally, MEANLY false." "Ay cluster there ! Cling to your master, judges, Romans, SLAVES!" AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 29 "I defy the honorable gentleman; I defy the government; I defy the whole PHALANX." Ideas are made clear and distinct : 1. By giving the words with greater force than the other words of the sentence. 2. By giving the words more time than the other words of the sentence. When the accented syllables are open and long, the emphasis of time is much more thoughtful and grace- ful than that of force. In the following examples the words requiring emphasis by force are printed in italics and those requiring emphasis by time in small capitals: "Dear, gentle, patient) noble Xell was dead. Xo sleep so BEAUTIFUL and CALM." "Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful world, With the wonderful water round ye curled, And the wonderful grass upon your breast — World, ye are beautifully drest." 3. By an upward or downward slide of the voice on the finish of the accented syllable of the word to be emphasized; as, Are you going to the city to-day ? 4. By rhetorical pauses. "My heart was wounded j with the arrow of affliction, and my eyes became dim | with sorrow." The long sounds of the vowels take emphasis by time; the short sounds emphasis by force or slide. The power of emphasis depends upon concentration and proper distribution. These two principles should constantly be borne in mind. Don't emphasize too many words. Where all are generals, there are no privates. PITCH. The High and the Low of the voice is called Pitch. It is a modification of voice to express feeling, and is recognized as Medium, High and Low. It may, however, be still further subdivided. If the middle register or pitch of the voice is too high or 30 scorer's successful recitations too low, it should, with due care, be trained up or down the scale. The sentiment of a passage determines its Pitch. Medium Pitch is employed in all unemotional language. "Blessed are the merciful : for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart : for they shall see God." High Pitch is used in shouting, command, joy and extreme grief. To secure High Pitch, begin at the middle register of the voice and ascend the musical scale four notes. "On with the dance! let joy be unconfined ; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing hours with flying feet." Low Pitch. — Solemnity, melancholy, reverence, awe and language of the supernatural require Low Pitch. For Low Pitch, descend the musical scale four notes from the middle register of the voice. " 'Tis midnight's holy hour, — and silence now Is brooding like a gentle spirit o'er The still and pulseless world. Hark ! on the winds The bell's deep tones are swelling — 'tis the knell Of the departed year." FOKCE. Force relates to the power or loudness of the voice. It is the application of strength of voice in different degrees to express emotion and may be considered the light and shade of proper intonation. Many persons do not discriminate between force and pitch. Kemember that the one relates to the power, the other to the high and low, of the voice. Force is known as Standard and Emphatic. Standard Force is that general force given to all the words. Emphatic Force is that special force given to the emphatic words. The Standard Force varies with the general spirit of the selection; the Emphatic Force with the distinctive ideas. All AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 31 unemotional ideas require moderate force; earnest ideas, full force, and subdued ideas, soft force. MODERATE FOECE. "It was a most interesting case. Mr. Groly was driven into our church one Sabbath by a shower of rain; and into whose pew should he come but ours. We noticed that Dr. Daidlaw's sermon affected him most powerfully, and he told us himself afterwards that he went away that day a new man." FULL FORCE. "Oh! dwellers in the nether gloom, avengers of the slain, By this dear blood I cry to you, do right between us twain; And even as Appius Claudius hath dealt by me and mine, Deal you by Appius Claudius and all the Claudiun line ! " SOFT FORCE. "Perhaps, in the silent valley of death, the little one was thinking of the merry spring-time she had hoped to see." SLIDES OF THE VOICE. The Slide is a continuous movement of the voice from one pitch to another. Slides are Rising (') and Falling ( v ), and when united are known as the Wave or Circumflex (A V). Positive Language takes the Falling Slide; as, "The war must v go on. N We must N fight it through. v " This slide creates a feeling of completion and gives power and strength to words. Negative or Doubtful Language takes the Rising Slide; as, "This is no Grecian fable of fountains running wine/ Of maids with snaky tresses 7 or sailors turned to swine/" This slide gives beauty and variety to the words. "Come, read x to me some poem v — Some simple^ and heart K -£elt lay, * * * * * Isot from the grand old masters/ £Tot from the bards sublime/ 32 scorer's successful recitations Read from some humbler^ poet, Whose songs gushed from the hearty As showers^ from the clouds of summer^ Or tears s from the eyelids^ start." The sense and not the form of expression determines the inflections. "Is that 7 the best 7 you can do 7 ? " would be the reading if we were in doubt; but when we know certainly that it is not, we should read it, "Is that N the best v you can do v ? " When the terms of a sentence are arranged in twos, the first half of each term takes the rising slide and the second half the falling slide. "Sink 7 or swim, N live 7 or die, v sur 7 vive or per N ish, I give my hand 7 and my heart N to this vote." When the terms of a sentence are arranged in threes, the voice is suspended on the first third of each term, goes up on the second third and down on the last third. "A man who united the wisdom of a philosopher and .the policy of a great prince with the tastes of a sayter, the manners of a barbarian, 7 and the passions of a fiend. v " "The fearless soldier the profound strategist, the heroic chief v ! " The wave or circumflex is known as the Rising and Fall- ing Circumflex and is used to express irony, doubt, scorn, reproach, contempt, implication, raillery, etc. The voice touches strongly and distinctly on the opening and the closing of the word, and passes lightly over the middle part. The rising circumflex begins with the falling, and ends with the rising slide, the falling circumflex begins with the rising, and ends with the falling. Positive assertions require the falling, and negative or doubtful assertions the rising circumflex. "Banished from Rome ! What's banished but set free from daily contact of the things I loathe?" MONOTONE. The Monotone is simply the absence of Melody. It is a near approach to one continuous tone of voice and indicates AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 33 solemnity, power, reverence and dread. It is much used in reading the Bible and the church service. The time is usually slow. Monotone must not be confounded with monotony. TIME. Time relates to the rapidity of the utterances. It gives smoothness and is essential to agreeable speech. The prevail- ing spirit of a selection will determine the standard rate of utterance. The standard time is medium if the prevailing spirit is unemotional. "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal." In language of gayety and hasty action, the standard time is rapid. "And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war." In language of solemnity, awe and slow movement, the standard time is slow. "The stillness of the house was death -like — all save the measured beat of the old clock on the mantle, with its agoniz- ing throb — throb — throb ! " Time may be still further subdivided by the reader. BEADING OF QUOTATIONS The time given to the reading of a quotation will be de- termined by the character and importance of the idea. STKESS. Stress is a special force applied to individual sounds. Radical Stress ^— is the application of sudden force to the opening of a tonic element as in the act of coughing. It is used in anger, fear, determined will, earnest argument, etc. "You common cry of curs ! whose breath I hate As reek o J the rotten fens, — whose loves I prize As the dead carcasses of unburied men, That do corrupt my air, — I banish you." 34 scorer's successful recitations Thorough Stress Hi is the application of an even force to all parts of a sound as in oratorical styles. " It is a grave thing when a State puts a man among her jewels, the glitter of whose fame makes doubtful acts look heroic/ ' Vanishing Stress — ^ is sudden force applied to the close or vanish of a tonic element. It is the natural utterance of de- termined purpose, contempt, fierce and obstinate will. "I'll have my bond ; I will not hear thee speak; I'll have my bond ; and therefore speak no more." In Median Stress *♦■ the force swells out at the middle of the sound and is used in sentimental, grand, sublime and rev- erential styles. The characteristics of this stress are dignity and smoothness. It gives emphasis without abruptness. "O lovely Mary Donnelly, it's you I love the best ! If fifty girls were around you, I'd hardly see the rest ; Be what it may the time of day, the place be where it will, Sweet looks of Mary Donnelly, they bloom before me still." Tremor or Intermittent Stress is a trembling of the voice which occurs in all emotions that enfeeble it. It expresses feebleness, old age, fatigue, grief, intense emotion, etc. "O father Abbot, An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye; Give him. a little earth for charity." CLIMAX. A Climax is a gradual rising in importance in the thought. Either words or phrases forming a climax should have more force or time given to each successive one. Now, blue-eyed Saxon, proud of your race, go back with me to the commencement of the century, and select what statesman you please. Let him be either American or European; let him have a brain the result of six generations of culture; let him have the ripest training of university routine ; let him add to it the better education of practical life; AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 35 crown his temples with the silver of seventy years; and show me the man of Saxon lineage for whom his most sanguine admirer will wreathe a laurel rich as embittered foes have placed on the brow of this negro. — Phillips. EXPKESSION. Expression is the utterance of words with their accom- panying Emotions; suiting the voice to the thought to be ex- pressed by a corresponding feeling or emotion. Give life, coloring and reality to the mental picture by throwing yourself into the spirit of what you read. Learn to feel. The reader must be physically as Veil as mentally in ear- nest. He must have energy, fire, animal galvanism — in other words, physical earnestness. He must put in motion a current of sympathy between speaker and hearer. "The working of the body to the advantage of the mind is physical earnestness, and the speaker who lacks it comes far short of his duty. An impression is produced upon the hearer quite apart from and often in spite of the words uttered. It is a mesmeric influence, it is a reflection, it is feeling, it is thought produced by the physical earnestness of the speaker who is a galvanic battery on two legs. An influence goes out of the speaker thrilling the hearer with emotion." If you would keep your audience awake, do not allow yourself to go physically asleep. PATHOS. PKINCIPLES INVOLVED. 1. Natural voice. — The medium of pure conversation. 2. Effusive utterance. — The voice is poured forth in a con- tinuous stream. 3. Slide of semitone. — The progress of pitch through the interval of a half note on the musical scale. "It may be well to note that this pathetic slide is not measured by a half tone in all cases, but follows the voice in all its movements up and down the scale on the third, fifth and octave, always vanish- ing, however, on a minor chord." 36 scorer's successful recitations This slide must be handled very delicately or pathos will be turned into burlesque. "Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean; Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more." "Ah, Hal, I'll try ; But in my throat there's something chokes, Because you see, I've thought so long To count her in among our folks. I s'pose she must be happy now, But still I will keep thinking too, I could have kept all trouble off By being tender, kind and true. But maybe not, she's safe up there, And when the Hand deals other strokes, She'll stand at Heaven's gate, I know, And wait to welcome in our folks." "She sobbed, wringing her thin, white hands: Oh! I can't believe it! My babies ! Oh, my babies! how often have I held them in my arms and kissed them; and how often they used to say back to me, 'I loves 'ou mamma,' and now, O God! they've turned against me. Where am I going? To the poor-house ! No! no! no! I cannot! 1 will not! Oh, the disgrace; O God ! spare me this and take me home ! " And all at once the old man burst into sobs : — "I have been to blame — to blame ! I have killed my son ! I have killed him — but I loved him — my dear son ! May God forgive me ! — I have been to blame. Kiss me, my children ! " — Tennyson's Dora. REPRESENTATIVE SELECTIONS. Pictures of Memory, Alice Cary. The Bridge of Sighs, Hood. Bingen on the Rhine, Norton. Our Folks, Lynn. Note. — The reader or speaker degrades his speech, when he allows himself to shed tears. To influence others, we must control ourselves. The artist controls and is not controlled. AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 37 SOLEMNITY. Principles Involved. — Natural Voice, Effusive Utterance and Low Pitch. In this, as in the reading of pathos, natural voice and effu- sive utterance are used, but instead of slide of semitone, as in pathos, low pitch is required. To secure low pitch, begin at the middle register of the voice, and descend the musical scale four notes. Solemnity and pathos are different degrees of sorrow ; the former less than the latter. "How still and peaceful is the grave, Where, — life's vain tumults past, — The appointed house, by Heaven's decree, Receives us all at last ! ' ' Representative selection, page 96 of this work. SERENITY, BEAUTY, LOVE AND TRANQUILITY. Principles Involved. — Natural Voice, Effusive Utterance and High Pitch. To secure High Pitch, begin at the middle register of the voice and ascend the musical scale four notes. "Was it the chime of a tiny bell That came so sweet to my dreaming ear, Like the silvery tone of a fairy's shell, That he winds on the beach so mellow and clear, When the winds and the waves lie together asleep, And the moon and the fairy are watching the deep, She dispensing her silvery light, And he his notes as silvery quite, While the boatman listens and ships his oar, To catch the music that comes from the shore : Hark ! the notes on my ear that play, Are set to words : as they float, they say, 'Passing away ! passing away ! ' " Representative selection, page 115 of this book. 38 scorer's successful recitations GAYETY. Selections of Gayety require great variety of intonation^ rapid movement and high pitch. Flexibility of voice is indispensable. "T' other day, as I was twining Koses for a crown to dine in, What, of all things, midst the heap, Should I light on, fast asleep, But the little desperate elf, — The tiny traitor, — Love himself ! By the wings I pinched him up Like a bee, and in a cup Of my wine I plunged and sank him ; And what d'ye think I did ? — I drank him ! Faith, I thought him dead. Not he ! There he lives with tenfold glee ; And now this moment, with his wings, I feel him tickling my heart-strings." Representative selection, Daffodils, page 158, GRAND, SUBLIME and REVERENTIAL SELECTIONS Require the Effusive Orotund form of expression. "There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar. I love not man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.' , Representative selection, page 77. ORATORY Is elevated talk or dignified conversation and requires the Expulsive form of Orotund. The speaker in public places needs a greater fullness and strength of voice than the ordinary con- versational power of expression. This form of expression re- quires a separate expulsion of breath for each word or syllable. AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 39 Oratory is not the gift of nature alone. It it is the reward of assiduous effort and perfection in this art is the work of time and labor. One, one, one, one, one, one, one. Mv Lords, you have now heard the principles on which Mr. Hastings governs the part of Asia subjected to the British empire. Here he has declared his opinion, that he is a despotic prince ; that he is to use arbitrary power ; and, of course, all his acts are covered with that shield. "I know," says he, "The Constitution of Asia only from its practice." Will your Lordships submit to hear the corrupt practices of mankind made the principles of Government? — Burke, Representative selections, pages 111, 123, 124, 130. SELECTIONS OF ANGER, HURRY AND COMMOTION Require the Explosive form of expression. "Yield, madman, yield ! thy horse is down, Thou hast nor lance nor shield ; Fly !— I will grant thee time." "This flag Can neither fly nor yield ! " Representative selections, pages 30, 87. HUMOROUS SELECTIONS Require great variety in intonation, with sudden flights of the voice from low pitch to very high pitch. The upper tones of the voice are peculiarly adapted to this style of selections. NARRATIVE, DESCRIPTIVE AND DIDACTIC SELECTIONS Require purity and variety of tone and distinctness of enun- ciation. They sometimes involve all the principles of the preceding styles. NARRATIVE. "At noon he scratched out a letter, blotted and very strangely scrawled, telling Nora what had happened ; and those who observed him noticed that he had no meat with his dinner. Indeed from that moment he lived on bread, pota- 40 scorer's successful recitations toes and cold water, and worked as few men ever worked before. — It grew to be the talk of the shop, and now that sym- pathy was excited every one wanted to help Connor. Jobs were thrown in his way, kind words and friendly wishes helped him mightily; but no power could make him share the food or drink of any other workman. It seemed a sort of charity to him." DESCKIPTIVE. "In fact Doctor B limber's establishment was a great hot- house, in which there was a forcing apparatus incessantly at work. All the boys blew before their time. Mental green peas were produced at Christmas, and intellectual asparagus all the year round." DIDACTIC. "Speak the speech I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, — trippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance, that may give it smoothness. Oh ! it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious perwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, — to very rags, — to split the ears of the groundlings; who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb-shows and noise. I would have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant: It out-Herods Herod . Pray you, avoid it." BIBLE BEADING. The reading of the sacred word requires the application of every principle in Elocution, and no where is Expression more richly rewarded. The Bible should be read in a dignified, manly manner. Avoid any style that is professional, inflated, flippant or familiar. Mass all the words, phrases, clauses, or sentences which ex- press a unit or one idea in one paragraph. For the purpose of reading, the Bible may be classified as follows : AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 41 NARRATIVE PASSAGES. The Plain Narrative consists of the simple stories of the Bible. Genesis 4, 1-15. 2 Kings, 23. Luke 15, 11-32. St. John 9; 11. Tfie Elevated Narrative sometimes dips into the sublime; as, Exodus 3. 1 Kings 8, 1-63. The Acts 2, 14-41; 26, 1-30. DIDACTIC PASSAGES. Matthew 5; 6; 7. St. John 3, 1-21; 10, 1-19; 14. Romans 3; 5; 8. 1 Corinthians 13; 15. Ephesians 4. 2 Corin- thians 6. PASSAGES OF GRANDEUR, SUBLIMITY AND MAJESTY. From the Prophetic writings. Job 38. Psalms 8; 18; 19; 29; 97; 113; 145. Isaiah 40; 53; 54; 55. Jeremiah 6; 7; 14; 22; 31. Habakkuk 3. Revelation 21. Tranquility. — Psalm 23. PATHOS AND ENTREATY. Psalms 6; 38; 39; 88; 142; 143. SOLEMNITY AND AWE. Psalms 77, 10-20; 90; 103; 104; 139. The student will find it profitable to increase the above lists of representative passages. HYMN READING. Nearly all Hymns are prayers in material form, and re- quire the Effusive Orotund form of utterance. Revelations, the greater part of the Old Testament and the Liturgy also employ the Effusive Orotund. IMPERSONATION Is the representation, by a single person, of the words, man- ners, and actions of several persons. The coloring of the voice, the mental and physical peculiarities must all be in har- mony with the character to be represented ; they must be appropriate to the expression of the required thought. Imper- sonation requires careful study, with good judgment in its use. The characters should be represented as speaking on the 42 scorer's successful recitations oblique lines, while the words of the narrator should be given on the front line. DIALECT. Is the characteristic coloring given to speech by local peculiarities or specific circumstances. The peculiar tone- coloring of the various dialects can be acquired by listening carefully to the conversation of those whom you wish to im- itate, or by training under one who is skilled in this line of work. The Yankee uses a nasal drawl and is careless in pronun- ciation. In the German w is sounded like v, 'wait' vait, etc.; th hard like d, 'that' dot, etc.; th at end of a word like t, 'health' helt, etc.; b like p and d like t, 'bad' pat, etc.; v like/, 'never' nefer, etc.; j like y; 'Jacob,' Yacup, etc.; k has a guttural sound best represented by kh; r is always rolled or roughly trilled when followed by a vowel, and words of one syllable often sounded as though possessing two, 'out' ow~et, etc. "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 Yonderland, It 's a peautiful blace, you must understand, Vhere dhey nefer get late, dhey vas alvays on handt, But it 's efer so far avay." The Irishman uses short quantity, striking the syllables with a sharp percussive stroke, speaking each quickly and cut- ting off the sound abruptly; roll or trill all r's when they follow a vowel, which is never permissible in English ; pronounce long o like ow, 'old' owld, 'roll' rowl, 'soul' sowl, etc.; short i nearly like long e, 'tin' teen, etc.; er like ar, 'serve' sarve, etc.; short e like short i, 'well' will, etc.; long e like long a, 'beat' bate, etc.; short a like short o, 'man' mon, etc. The words feet, sweet, indeed, etc., should not be pro- nounced "fate," "swate," "indade." An Irishman invari- ably gives the double e its proper sound. In some of the dialects the spelling serves as an index to the pronunciation. scorer's successful recitations 43 GESTURE Is the manifestation of thought and feeling by means of the head, arms and limbs. PRINCIPAL POSITIONS OF THE FEET. Right Front. — Right foot in advance, with the toes at an angle of about seventy degrees. The heel of the advanced foot should be on a line with the instep of the rear foot. Left Front. — The relations of the feet are reversed. SECONDARY POSITIONS. Right Lateral. — Turn to the right from a left front posi- tion, pivoting on the balls of the feet. Left Lateral. — Turn to the left from a right front position* EXPRESSIVE MOVEMENTS OF THE LIMBS. 1. Congenial Position. Weight of body resting on the rear foot with the advanced knee slightly bent. The congenial positions are employed in expressing the quiet and genial states of the mind. 2. Moderate Congenial Position. A short graceful step forward, advancing body. 3. Strong Congenial Position. A long graceful step for- ward. The advanced knee should be pushed forward to a line with the toe, the rear foot resting lightly upon the toe. 4. Emphatic Position. Knees extended, with the weight of the body resting on both feet. The emphatic positions are employed to express bold, energetic and impassioned ideas. 5. Moderate Emphatic Position. A short abrupt step for- ward, advancing the body, the knees extended. 6. Strong Emphatic Position. A long abrupt step for- ward, advancing the body. Bring the advanced knee forward to a line with the toe. The rear foot must rest fiat upon the floor. 7. Aversive Position. A very short abrupt step backward with the rear foot. In the aversive positions the hands should be brought up on a line with the advanced limb. The height of the hands will depend upon the degree of aversion or the position of the aversive object. 44 AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 8. Moderate Aversive Position. A short abrupt step back- ward with the advanced foot. 9. Strong Aversive Position. A long abrupt step back- ward with the advanced foot. 10. Concentrative or Base Position. Heels together, weight of body resting on both feet. This position signifies egotism, conceit, etc. 11. Moderate Concentrative. Feet apart on the lateral lines. This is a position of vulgar repose, assumed in fatigue and in impersonating children and old people. 12. Impersonative Positions. Positions assumed in imita- tion of a character, real or imagined. 13. Kneeling Positions, (a.) Slide the advanced foot for- ward on the oblique line and rest upon the rear knee. (6.) Slide the rear foot backward on the oblique line and rest upon the rear knee. 14. Bowing Movements, (a.) Advance to position on the platform and halt with the right foot in advance. Without pausing, draw the advanced foot back to the concentrative position; then bow by bending forward at the hips, allowing the hands to fall forward and into the lap. Keep the eyes on a line with the person or persons to whom you are bowing. Immediately after the bow resume the right front position, afterwards changing to the position the selection may demand. (b.) After advancing to position take along graceful step backward, at the same time inclining the body forward by bending at the hips, allowing the hands to fall into the lap. 15. Betiring Movement. In retiring from the platform take three or four steps backward inclining the body forward on a line with the advanced limb. AEM MOVEMENTS. The principal lines followed by the arms in gesture are, Front, Front Oblique, Lateral and Hear Oblique. USES OF THE PKINCIPAL LINES. Front to Lateral denotes expansion of thought; as, u l ap- peal to youy sir; to the whole assembly, YEA TO THE WHOLE WOKLD!" 45 Lateral to Front denotes increase of: force or directness; as, " To such usurpation I will never submit; I repeat it, sir, I will never submit; I WILL DIE FIEST ! " SUB-LINES, Each principal line has three sub-lines; the Descending, the Horizontal and the Ascending. The Descending line is used in referring to objects, real or imagined, located below; low, base and groveling ideas. "See how that rug, those rep- tiles soil." The Ascending line is used in referring to objects, real or imagined, located above; pure and elevating thoughts. "The very trees were stripped and bare." Plain statement, ordinary description, in short everything else takes the Horizontal line. Curved lines are congenial. Straight lines are emphatic. POSITIONS OF THE HANDS. The positions of the open hands are, Prone, Vertical and Supine. The Prone Position denotes super-position, one fact or principle resting upon another; also death and destruction. "Darkness covered the entire earth." The Vertical Position denotes aversion; as, " Eed as blood." The Supine Position is used in ordinary debate, assertion, etc. "The war must go on." KINDS OF GESTURE. The two general divisions of gesture are Objective and Sub- jective. Objective Gestures refer to that which is without the body and are known as Designative, Descriptive, Assertive and Figurative or Gestures of Analogy. The Designative Gesture designates or points out. It may employ the index finger; as, "'Thou art the man." Or, it may employ the open hand. The open hand is general in its ap- plication; the index finger, specific. The Descriptive Gesture is used to describe objects and rep- resent space. The Assertive Gesture is used for the purpose of emphasis. 46 scorer's successful recitations. Figurative Gestures or Gestures of Analogy. Whether a thought is expressed literally or figuratively, the gesture is the same; as, (a.) This is the letter 1 brought you. (6.) This is the question for discussion. In executing the gesture on these lines, bring the supine hand up to the horizontal on the front line. The Subjective Gestures bring the hands towards the body and are significant. They signify inward feeling or emotion; such as placing the hand on the head in distress or pain, etc. THE QUALITIES OF GESTUEE Are: Boldness or Freedom, Energy or Power, Propriety — the proper gesture, Precision — at the proper time, Variety — adapt- ing suitable gestures to each sentiment to avoid repeating one gesture too often, Simplicity , Magnificence — the vast amount of space through which the hand and arm are made to move, Grace — the result of the other qualities. THE POINTS IN THE ANALYSIS OF GESTURE Are: the Preparation, the Execution and the Return Movement. The Preparation should be made on the word or words preceding the emphatic word. If the first word of a sentence is emphatic the preparation must be made before uttering the word. The Ictus is the emphatic stroke of the wrist at the finish of the execution. The Return Movement is simply bringing the hand from the Ictus to the side of the body after the execution of a gesture or a series of gestures. SPECIAL GESTURES. Right Hand Uplifted. — Adjuration, Oath and Solemn Dec- laration; as, "I swear it shall not be." Or, in arresting atten- tion; as, "Hark ! the cry is Astur." Both Hands Uplifted. — Awe, wonder, surprise; as, "How wonderful are thy works, O Lord ! " In Earnest and Sacred Aspirations; as, "Angels and Ministers of Grace defend us ! " In Benediction; as, "May Heaven's richest blessing rest upon you! " AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 47 In arousing calls; as, "To arms! to arms! Sir Consul ! " THE INDEX FINGER. 1. Indication, Specific Reference, Emphatic Designa- tion; as, "That man ! M 2. Cautioning and Threatening; as, "Mark my tale with care." . 3. Special Emphasis; as, "I will never yield." 4. Reproach, Scorn, Contempt; as, "Vipers! that creep where man disdains to climb." HANDS CLINCHED. Extreme Emphasis, Anger and Defiance. Hands Applied — Adoration. "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Sabaoth." Hands Clasped. — Supplication, Earnest Entreaty, Distress. "Oh Lord, hear my cry." Hands Folded — Humility. "I acknowledge my sins." PRINCIPLE OF OPPOSITION. The arms and body move in opposition, the greater the energy of the gesture, the greater the opposition. In objec- tive gestures thd^ move from each other; in subjective ges- tures, towards each other. EXERCISES FOR PRACTICE. Each series consists of thirty-five movements, — twelve with the right hand, twelve with the left hand and eleven double movements. Congenial Movements.— Front: 1. Descending; 2. Hori- zontal; 3. Ascending. Front Oblique: 4. Descending; 5. Horizontal; 6. Ascending. Lateral: 7. Descending; 8. Hori- zontal; 9. Ascending. Rear Oblique: 10. Descending, 11. Horizontal, 12. Ascending. Begin with the right hand from a right front position. In the preparation of each movement, the hand must drop to the waist and then brought be up at the opposite breast to the shoulder. In passing from the ninth movement to the tenth y with either hand, the advance foot should be brought back to 48 the rear oblique line. In the double movements the one on the horizontal plane, rear oblique line, is omitted. In passing to the eleventh or last of the double movements, the right foot should be brought back to the moderate aversive position. Repeat the above series, clinching the hand on the Ictus. Emphatic Movements. — 1. Hand supine from side of bead. 2. Index finger, hand vertical, from side of head. 3. Clinched hand from side of head. 4. Supine hand from opposite shoulder. 5. Prone hand from opposite shoulder. 6. Index finger, hand prone, from opposite shoulder. 7. Supine hand from the side of the body or base position of the hands. THE FEATURES. Joy, Happiness, Benevolence, Good Humor — Countenance open and smiling. Anger Defiance, Hatred — The eyes flash, the brows con- tract, the lips compress. Scorn, Pride — Lips and nose elevated. Surprise, Fear, Secresy — The brows elevated, the eyes opened, the lips parted. Grief— -The eyes half closed, the face dejected. Shame — Eyes cast down. Supplication — Eyes raised. PART SECOND. SCORER'S Successful Recitations. SONG OF THE CAMP. AN INCIDENT OP THE CRIMEAN WAR. 4 'Give us a Song!" the soldiers cried, The outer trenches guarding, When the heated guns of the camps allied Grew weary of bombarding. The dark Redan, in silent scoff, Lay, grim and threatening, under ; And the tawny mound of the Malakoff No longer belched its thunder. There was a pause. A guardsman said : "We storm the forts to-morrow; Sing while we may, another day Will bring enough of sorrow." They lay along the battery's side, Below the smoking cannon ; Brave hearts, from Severn and from Clyde, And from the banks of Shannon. They sang of love, and not of fame ; Forgot was Britain's glory : Each heart recalled a different name, But all sang : "Maxwelton braes are bonnie, Where early fa's the dew ; And it's there that Annie Laurie scorer's successful recitations, Gie'd nie her promise true, Gie'd me her promise true, Which ne'er forgot shall be, And for bonnie Annie Laurie I'll lay me doune and dee." Voice after voice caught up : 4 'Her brow is like the snaw drift, Her throat is like the swan ; Her face it is the fairest That e'er the sun shone on, That e'er the sun shone on; And dark blue is her e'e, And for bonnie Annie Laurie I'd lay me doune and dee." Until its tender passion Kose like an anthem, rich and strong, — Their battle-eve confession. Dear girl, her name he dared not speak, But, as the song grew louder, Something upon the soldier's cheek, Washed off the stains of powder. Beyond the darkening ocean burned The bloody sunset's embers, While the Crimean valleys learned How English love remembers. And once again a fire of hell Kained on the Kussian quarters, With scream of shot, and burst of shell, And bellowing of the mortars ! And Irish Nora's eyes are dim For a singer, dumb and gory ; And English Mary mourns for him Who sang : " She's all the world to me, And for bonnie Annie Laurie, I'll lay me doune and dee." BAYARD TAYLOR. THE TOLISH BOY. THE POLISH BOY. Whence came those shrieks, so wild and shrill, That like an arrow cleave the air, Causing the blood to creep and thrill With such sharp cadence of despair? Once more they come ! as if a heart Were cleft in twain by one quick blow, And every string had voice apart To utter its peculiar woe ! Whence came they ? From yon temple, where An altar raised for private prayer, Now forms the warrior's marble bed, Who Warsaw's gallant armies led. The dim funereal tapers throw A holy lustre o'er his brow, And burnish with their rays of light The mass of curls that gather bright Above the haughty brow and eye Of a young boy that 's kneeling by. What hand is that whose icy press Clings to the dead with death's own grasp, But meets no answering caress — No thrilling fingers seek its clasp? It is the hand of her whose cry Eang wildly late upon the air, When the dead warrior met her eye, Outstretched upon the altar there. Now with white lips and broken moan She sinks beside the altar stone; But hark ! the heavy tramp of feet, Is heard along the gloomy street, Nearer and nearer yet they come, With clanking arms and noiseless drum. Now whispered curses, low and deep Around the holy temple creep. The gate is burst. A ruffian band Rush in and savagely demand, With brutal voice and oath profane, The startled boy for exile's chain. 10 scorer's successful recitations. The mother sprang with gesture wild, And to her bosom snatched the child ; Then with pale cheek and flashing eye, Shouted with fearful energy, — " Back, ruffians, back ! nor dare to tread Too near the body of my dead ! !Nor touch the living boy — I stand Between him and your lawless band ! * * # # * * * * * * Take me, and bind these arms, these hands, "With Russia's heaviest iron bands, And drag me to Siberia's wild To perish, if 'twill save my child ! " " Peace, woman, peace ! " the leader cried, Tearing the pale boy from her side ; And in his ruffian grasp he bore His victim to temple door. "One moment ! one ; Can land or gold redeem my son ? If so, I bend my Polish knee, And, Russia, ask a boon of thee. Take palaces, take lands, take all, But leave him free from Russian thrall. Take these," and her white arms and hands She stripped of rings and diamond bands, And tore from braids of long black hair The gems that gleamed like star-light there; Unclasped the brilliant coronal And carcanet of orient pearl; Her cross of blazing rubies last Down to the Russian's feet she cast. He stooped to seize the glittering store; Upspringing from the marble floor, The mother with a cry of joy, Snatched to her leaping heart the boy ! But no — the Russian's iron grasp Again undid the mother's clasp. THE POLISH BOY. 11 Forward she fell, with one long cry, Of more than mortal agony. But the brave child is roused at length, And breaking from the Kussian's hold, He stands, a giant in the strength Of his young spirit, fierce and bold. Proudly he towers, his flashing eye, So blue and fiercely bright, Seems lighted from the eternal sky, So brilliant is its light. His curling lips and crimson cheeks Foretell the thought before he speaks. With a full voice of proud command He turns upon the wondering band. " Ye hold me not ! no, no, nor can ; This hour has made the boy a man. I knelt beside my slaughtered sire, Nor felt one throb of vengeful ire ; I wept upon his marble brow — Yes, wept — I was a child; but now My noble mother on her kuee, Has done the work of years for me." He drew aside his broidered vest, And there, like slumbering serpent's crest, The jeweled haft of poinard bright, Glittered a moment on the sight. "Ha! start ye back! Fool! coward! knave! Think ye my noble father's glave, Would drink the life blood of a slave ? The pearls that on the handle flame, Would blush to rubies in their shame ! The blade would quiver in thy breast, Ashamed of such ignoble rest ! No; thus I rend thy tyrant's chain. And fling him back a boy's disdain ! " A moment, and the funereal light Flashed on the jeweled weapon bright; Another, and his young heart's blood Leaped to the floor a crimson flood. 12 scorer's successful recitations. Quick to his mother's side he sprang, And on the air his clear voice rang — " Up, mother, up ! I'm free ! I'm free ! The choice was death or slavery ; Speak, mother speak— lift up thy head. What, silent still ? Then thou art dead ! Great God, I thank thee ! Mother, I Eejoice with thee, and thus to die." ANN S. STEPHENS, THE ENCOUNTER OF MILES STANDISH WITH THE INDIANS. Just in the gray of the dawn, as the mists uprose from the meadows, There was a stir and a sound in the slumbering village of Plymouth ; Clanging and clicking of arms, and the order imperative, "Forward!" Given in tone suppressed, a tramp of feet, and then silence. Figures ten, in the mist, marched slowy out of the village. Utandish the stalwart it was, with eight of his valorous army, Led by their Indian guide, by Hobomok, friend of the white men, Northward marching to quell the sudden revolt of the savage. After a three days' march he came to an Indian encamp- ment Pitched on the edge of a meadow, between the sea and the forest; Women at work by the tents, and the warriors, horrid with war-paint, Seated about a fire, and smoking and talking together ; Who, when they saw from afar the sudden approach of the white men, law the flash of the sun on breastplate and sabre and musket, ENCOUNTER OF MILES STANDISH WITH THE INDIANS. 13 Straightway leaped to their feet, and two, from among them advancing, Came to parley with Standish, and offer him furs as a present ; Friendship was in their looks, but in their hearts there was hatred. Braves of the tribe were these, and brothers gigantic in stature, Huge as Goliath of Gath, or the terrible Og, king of Bashan ; One was Pecksuot named, and the other was called Watta- wamat. Round their necks were suspended their knives in scabbards of wampum, Two-edged, trenchant knives, with points as sharp as a needle. Other arms had they none, for they were cunning and crafty. '* Welcome, English ! " they said, — these words they had learned from the traders Touching at times on the coast, to barter and chaffer for peltries. Then in their native tongue they began to parley with Standish, Through his guide and interpreter, Hobomok, friend of the white man, Begging for blankets and knives, but mostly for muskets and powder, Kept by the white man, they said, concealed, with the plague, in his cellars, Eeady to be let loose, and destroy his brother the red man ! But when Standish refused, and said he would giVe them the Bible, Suddenly changing their tone, they began to boast and to bluster. Then Wattawamat advanced with a stride in front of the other, And, with a lofty demeanor, thus vauntingly spake to the Captain : "Now Wattawamat can see, by the fiery eyes of the captain, Angry is he in his heart ; but the heart of the brave Watta- wamat Is not afraid of the sight. He was not born of a woman, 14 scorer's successful recitations. But on a mountain, at night, from an oak-tree riven by- lightning, Forth he sprang at a bound with all his weapons about him Shouting, ' Who is there here to fight with the brave Wat- tawamat?' " Then he unsheathed his knife, and, whetting the blade on his left hand, Held it aloft and displayed a woman's face on the handle, Saying, with bitter expression and look of sinister meaning: " I have another at home, with the face of a man on the handle; By and by they shall marry ; and there will be plenty of children ! " Then stood Pecksuot forth, self-vaunting, insulting Miles Standish: While with his fingers he patted the knife that hung at his bosom, Drawing it half from its sheath, and plunging it back, as he muttered, • c By and by it shall see; it shall eat; ah, ha! but shall speak not ! This is the mighty Captain the white men have sent to destroy us ! He is a little man ; let him go and work with the women !" Meanwhile Standish had noted the faces and figures of Indians Peeping and creeping about from bush to tree in the forest, Feigning to look for game, with arrows set on their bow- strings, Drawing about him still closer and closer the net of their ambush. But undaunted he stood, and dissembled and treated them smoothly; So the old chronicles say, that were writ in the days of the fathers. But when he heard their defiance, the boast, the taunt, and the insult, All the hot blood of his race, of Sir Hugh and of Thurs- ton de Standish, DARIUS GREEN AND HIS FLYING-MACHINE 15 Boiled and beat in his heart, and swelled in the veins of his temples. Headlong he leaped on the boaster, and, snatching his knife from its scabbard, Plunged it into his heart, and, reeling backward, the savage Fell with his face to the sky, and a fiendlike fierceness upon it. Straight there arose from the forest the awful sound of the war-whoop, And like -a flurry of snow on the whistling wind of December, Swift and sudden and keen came a flight of feathery arrows. Then came a cloud of smoke, and out of the cloud came the lightning, Out of the lightning thunder; and death unseen ran before it. Frightened the savages fled for shelter in swamp and in thicket, Hotly pursued and beset; but their sachem, the brave Wat ta warn at, Fled not ; he w as dead. Unswerving and swift had a bullet Passed through his brain, and he fell with both hands clutching the greensward, Seeming in death to hold back from his foe the land of his fathers. Thus the first battle was fought and won by the stalwart Miles Standish. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. DAEIUS GKEEN AND HIS FLYING-MACHINE, If ever there lived a Yankee lad, Wise or otherwise, good or bad, Who, seeing the birds fly, did n't jump With flapping arms from stake or stump, Or, spreading the tail Of his coat for a sail, Take a soaring leap from post or rail, 16 scorer's successful recitations. And wonder why He could n't fly, And flap and flutter and wish and try, — If ever you knew a country dunce Who did n't try that as often as once, All I can say is, that 's a sign He never would do for a hero of mine. An aspiring genius was D. Green : The son of a farmer, — age fourteen ; His body was long and lank and lean, — Just right for flying, as will be seen ; He had two eyes as bright as a bean, And a freckled nose that grew between, A little awry, — for I must mention That he had riveted his attention Upon his wonderful invention, Till his nose seemed bent To catch the scent, Around some corner, of new-baked pies, And his wrinkled cheeks and his squinting eyes Grew puckered into a queer grimace, That made him look very droll in the face, And also very wise. And wise he must have been, to do more Than ever a genius did before, Excepting Dasclalus of yore And his son Icarus, who wore Upon their backs Those wings of wax He had read of in the old almanacs. Darius was clearly of the opinion, That the air is also man's dominion, And that, with paddle or fin or pinion, We soon or late Shall navigate The azure as now we sail the sea. The thing looks simple enough to me; And if you doubt it, Hear how Darius reasoned about it. DARIUS GREEN AND HIS FLYING-MACHINE. If ''The birds can fly, An' why can't I? Must we give in, ' T the bluebird an' phoebe Are smarter 'n we be ? Jest fol4 our hands an' see the swaller An' blackbird an' catbird beat us holler? Doos the leetle chatterin', sassy wren, No bigger 'n my thumb, know more than men ? Jest show me that ! • Er prove 't the bat Hez got more brains than's in my hat, An' I'll back down, an' not till then ! " "!Ner I can't see What's th' use o' wings to a bumble-bee, Fur to git a livin' with, mor'n to me ; — Ain't my business Importanter 'n his'n is ? That Icarus Was a silly cuss, — Him an' his daddy Daedalus. They might 'a' knowed wings made o' wax Woudn't stand sun-heat an' hard whacks. I'll make mine o' luther Ur suthin or other. "But I ain't goin' to show my hand To nummies that never can understand The fust idee that's big an' grand. They'd 'a' laft an* made fun O' Creation itself, afore 't was done!" So he kept his secret from all the rest, Safely buttoned within his vest ; And in the loft above the shed Himself he locks, with thimble and thread And wax and hammer and buckles and screws, And all such things as geniuses use ; — Two bats for patterns, curious fellows ! A charcoal-pot and a pair of bellows ; An old hoop-skirt or two, as well as 18 scorer's successful recitations. Some wire, and several old umbrellas ; A carriage-cover for tail and wings ; A piece of a harness ; and straps and strings ; And a big strong box, In which he locks These and a hundred other things. His grinning brothers, Eeuben and Burke And Nathan and Jotham and Solomon, lurk Around t^he corner to see him work. But vainly they mounted each other's backs, And poked through knot-holes and pried through cracks ; With wood from the pile and straw from the stacks He plugged the knot-holes and calked the cracks ; And a bucket of water, which one would think He had brought up into the loft to drink When he chanced to be dry, Stood always nigh, For Darius was sly ! And whenever at work he happened to spy At a chink or crevice a blinking eye, He let a dipper of water fly. " Take that ! an' ef ever ye git a peep, Guess ye '11 ketch a weasle asleep ! " And he sings as he locks His big strong box : — SONG. " The weasel's head is small an' trim, An' he is little an' long an' slim, An' quick of motion an' nimble of limb, An' ef yeou '11 be Advised by me, Keep wide awake when ye 're ketchin' him ! " So day after day He stitched and tinkered and hammered away, Till at last 't was done, — The greatest invention under the sun ! "An' now," says Darius, "hooray fer some fun !" DARIUS GREEN AND HIS FLYING-MACHINE. 19 'T was the Fourth of July, And the weather was dry, And not a cloud was on all the sky, Save a few light fleeces, which here and there, Half mist, half air, Like foam on the ocean went floating by, — Just as lovely a morning as ever was seen For a nice little trip in a flying-machine. Thought cunning Darius : " Now I sha'n't go Along 'ith the fellers to see the show. I '11 say I 've got sich a terrible cough ! An' then when the folks 'ave all gone off, I '11 hev full swing Fer to try the thing, An' practyse a leetle on the wing." * 'Ain't goin' to see the celebration? " Says Brother Nate. " No; botheration ! I 've got sich a cold — a toothache— I — My gracious ! — feel's though I should fly ! " Said Jotham, "Sho! Guess ye better go." But Darius said, " No ! Should n't wonder 'f yeou might see me, though, 'Long 'bout noon, ef I git red O' this jumpin', thumpin' pain 'n my head." For all the time to himself he said : — " I tell ye what! I '11 fly a few times around the lot, To see how 't seems, then soon 's I 've got The hang o' the thing, ez likely 's not, I '11 astonish the nation, An' all creation, By flyin' over the celebration ! Over their heads I '11 sail like an eagle; I '11 balance myself on my wings like a sea-gull; I '11 dance on the chimbleys; I '1 stan' on the steeple; I '11 flop up to the winders au' scare the people ! 20 scorer's successful recitations. I '11 light on the libbe'ty-pole an' crow; An' I '11 say to the gawpin' fools below, 1 What world 's this 'ere That I 've come near ? ' Fer I '11 make 'em b'lieve I 'm a chap fm the moon ; An' I '11 try a race 'ith their ol' bulloon ! " He crept from his bed ; And seeing the others were gone, he said, " I'm a gittin' over the cold 'n my head." And away he sped, To open the wonderful box in the shed. His brothers had walked but a little way, When Jotham to Nathan chanced to say, u What on airth is he up to, hey ? " "Don'o, — the' 's suthin' ur other to pay, Er he would n't 'a' stayed to hum to day." Says Burke, " His toothache's all 'n his eye ! He never'd miss a Fo'th-o-July, Ef hed n't got some machine to try." Then Sol, the little one, spoke : " By darn ! Le' 's hurry back an' hide 'n the barn, An' pay him fer tellin' us that yarn ! " " Agreed ! " Through the orchard they creep back, Along by the fences, behind the stack, And one by one, through a hole in the wall, In under the dusty barn they crawl, Dressed in their Sunday garments all ; And a very astonishing sight was that, When each in his cobwebbed coat and hat Came up through the floor like an ancient rat. And there they hid ; And Keuben slid The fastenings back, and the door undid, " Keep dark! While I squint an' see what the' is to see." As knights of old put on their mail, — From head to foot An iron suit, Iron jacket and Iron boot, DARIUS GREEN AND HIS FLYING-MACHINE. 21 Iron breeches, and on the head No hat, hut an iron pot instead. And under the chin the hail, (I believe they call the thing a helm,) And the lid they carried they called a shield ; And, thus accoutred, they took the field, Sallying forth to overwhelm The dragons and pagans that plagued the realm, — So this modern knight, Prepared for flight, Put on his wings and strapped them tight; Jointed and jaunty, strong and light; Buckled them fast to shoulder and hip, — Ten feet they measured from tip to tip ! And a helm had he, hut that he wore, Not on his head, like those of yore, But more like the helm of a ship. "Hush!" " He's up in the shed ! He's opened the winder, — I see his head ! He stretches it out, An' pokes it about, Lookin' to see 'f the coast is clear, An' nobody near; — Guess he don'o' who's hid in here ! He 's riggin' a spring-board over the sill ! Stop lafiin', Solomon ! Burke, keep still ! He 's a climbin' out now — Of all the things ! What's he got on ? I van, it 's wings ! An ' that t'other thing ? I vum, it 's a tail ! An' there he sets like a hawk on a rail !" Away he goes! Jimminy ! what a jump! As a demon is hurled by an angel's spear, Heels over head, to his proper sphere, — Heels over head, and head over heels, Dizzily down the abyss he wheels, — So fell Darius. Upon his crown, In the midst of the barn-yard, he came down, In a wonderful whirl of tangled strings, Broken braces and broken springs, 22 scorer's successful recitations. Broken tail and broken wings, Shooting-stars and various things, — Barn-yard litter of straw and chaff, And much that was n't so sweet by half. Away with a bellow fled the calf, And what was that? Did the gosling laugh? 'T is a merry roar From the old barn-door, And he hears the voice of Jotham crying, " Say, D'rius ! how do yeou like flyin'? " Slowly, ruefully, where he lay, Darius just turned and looked that way, As he staunched his sorrowful nose with his cuff, " Wal, I like flyin' well enough, But the' ain't such a thunderin' sight O' fun in 't when ye come to light." J. T. TROWBRIDGE. THE LOW-BACKED CAR. ( IRISH DIALECT. ) When first I saw sweet Peggy, 'T was 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 With the blooming girl I sing. As she sat in the low-backed car, The man with the turnpike bar Never asked for the toll, But just rubbed his owld poll, And looked after the low-backed car. In battle's wild commotion, The proud and mighty Mars With hostile scythes demands his tithes Of death in warlike cars ; THE LOW-BACKED CAR, 23 While Peggy, peaceful goddess, Has darts in her bright eye, That knocked 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 that 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', As she sits in her low-backed car. O, I'd 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 sit beside me, With my arm around her waist, While we drove in the low-backed car, To be married by Father Mahar ; O, my heart would beat high At her glance and her sigh, — Though it beat in a low-backed car ! SAMUEL LOVER. 24 scorer's successful recitations. CONNOR. 44 To the memory of Patrick Connor; this simple stone was erected by his fellow- workmen." Those words you may read any day upon a white slab in a cemetery not many miles from New York ; but you might read them an hundred times without guessing at the little tragedy they indicate, without knowing the humble romance which ended with the placing of that stone above the dust of one poor humble man. In his shabby frieze jacket and mud-laden brogans, he was scarcely an attractive object as he walked into Mr. Bawne's great tin and hardware shop one day and presented himself at the counter with an, " Ive been tould ye advertized for hands, yer honor." 64 Fully supplied, my man." "I'd work faithfully, sir, and take low wages, till I could do better, and I'd learn — I would that." It was an Irish brogue. The tone attracted him. He addressed the man, who was only one of fifty who had answered his advertisement for four workmen that morning. 4 * What makes you expect to learn faster than other folks — are you any smarter ! " "Til not say that; but I'd be wishing to; and that would make it aisier." u Are you used to the work?" " Ive done a bit of it." ; 'Much?" " No, yer honor, I'll tell ye no lie, Tim O'Toole had n't the like of this place ; but I know a bit about tins." u You are too old for an apprentice, and you'd be in the way I calculate," said Mr. Bawne, looking at the brawny arms and bright eyes that promised strength and intelli- gence. " Besides I know your country-men — lazy good-for- nothing fellows who never do their best. No, I've been taken in by Irish hands before, and I won't have another. " ct »j< ne yi r gi n w w\ have to be after bringing them over to me in her two arms, thin, for I've tramped all the day for the last fortnight, and niver a job can I get, and that's the last penny I have, yer honor, audit's but a half one." CONNOR. 25 As he spoke he spread his palm open with an English half-penny in it. "Bring whom over?" asked Mr. Bawne. arrested by the odd speech. "Jist Nora and Jamesy." " Who are they?" "The wan's me wife, the other me child. O masther, just thry me. How'll I bring em over to me, if no one will give me a job? I want to be aiming, and the whole big city seems against it, and me with arms like them." He bared his arms to the shoulder as he spoke, and Mr. Bawne looked at them, and then at his face. " I'll hire you for a week, and now, as it's noon, go down to the kitchen and tell the girl to get you some dinner — a hungry man can't work." With an Irish blessing, the new hand obeyed, while Mr. Bawne, untying his apron, went up stairs to his own meal. Suspicious as he was of the new hand's integrity and ability, he was agreeably disappointed. Connor worked hard, and actually learned fast. At the end of a week he was engaged permanently, and soon was the best workman in the shop. He was a great talker, but not fond of drink or wasting money. As his wages grew, he hoarded every penny, and wore the same shabby clothes in which he made his first appearance. "Beer costs money," he said one day, "and ivery cint I spind puts off the bringing Nora and Jamesy over ; and as for clothes, them I have must do me. Better no coat to my back than no wife and boy by my fire-side ; and anyhow, it's slow work saving." It was slow work, but he kept at it all the same. Other men, thoughtless and full of fun, tried to make him drink; made a jest of his saving habits, coaxed him to ac- company them to places of amusement, or to share in their Sunday frolics. All in va^n. Connor liked fun, liked companionship; but he would not delay that long-looked-for bringing of Nora over, and was not "mane enough" to accept favor of others. He kept his way, a martyr to his one great wish, living on little, working at night on any extra job by which he could earn a few shillings, running errands 26 scorer's successful recitations. in his noon-tide hours of rest, and talking to any one who would listen to him of his one great hope, and of Nora and of little Jamesy. At first the men who prided themselves on being all Americans, and on turning out the best work in the city, made a sort of butt of Connor, whose "wild Irish" ways and verdancy were indeed often laughable. But he won their hearts at last, and when one day mounting a work- bench, he shook his little bundle, wrapped in a red ker- chief, before their eyes, and shouted, " Look, boys; I've got the whole at last! I'm going to bring Nora and Jamesy over at last ! Hurra, Whorooo ! !" All felt sym- pathy in his joy, and each grasped his great hand in cor- dial congratulations, and one proposed to treat all round, and drink a good voyage to Nora. They parted in a merry mood, most of the men going to comfortable homes. But poor Connor's resting-place was a poor lodging-house, where he shared a crazy garret with four other men, and in the joy of his heart the poor fellow exhibited his handkerchief, before he put it under his pillow and fell asleep. When he awakened in the morning he found his treasure gone; some villain, more contemptible than most bad men, had robbed him. At first Connor could not even believe it lost. He searched every corner of the room, shook his quilt and blankets, and begged those about him "to quit joking, and give it back." But at last he realized the truth — "Is any man that bad that it's thaved from me?" "Boys, is any man that bad?" Some one answered: "No doubt of it, Connor; it's sthole." Then Connor put his head down on his hands and lifted up his voice and wept. It was one of those sights which men never forget. It seemed' more than he could bear, to have Nora and his child ''put," as *he expressed it, "months away from him again." But when he went to work that day it seemed to all who saw him that he had picked up a new determination. His hands were never idle. His face seemed to say, "I'll have Nora with me yet." CONNOR. 27 At noon he scratched out a letter, blotted and very strangely scrawled, telling Nora what had happened; and those who observed him noticed that he had no meat with his dinner. Indeed frpm that moment he lived on bread, potatoes, and cold water, and worked as few men ever worked before. — It grew to be the talk of the shop, and, now that sympathy was excited, every one wanted to help Connor. Jobs were thrown in his way, kind words and friendly wishes helped him mightily; but no power could make him share the food or drink of any other workman. It seemed a sort of charity to him. Still he was helped along. A present from Mr. Bawne at pay day, set Nora, as he said, "a week nearer,' ' and this, that and the other added to the little hoard. It grew faster than the first, and Connor's burden was not so heavy. At last before he hoped it, he was once more able to say, " I'm going to bring them over," and to show his handkerchief, in which, as before, he tied up his earn- ings ; this time, however, only to his friends. Cautious among strangers, he hid the treasure, and kept his vest buttoned over it night and day until the tickets were bought and sent. Then every man, woman and child, capable of hearing or understanding knew that Nora and her baby were coming. The days flew by and brought at last a letter from his wife. She would start as he desired, and she was well and so was the boy, and "might the Lord bring them safely to each other's arms and bless them who had been so kind to him." That was the substance of the epistle which Con- nor proudly assured his fellow- workmen Nora wrote her- self. She had lived at service as a girl, with a certain good old lady, who had given her the items of an educa- tion, which Connor told upon his fingers. "The radin', that's one, and the writen, — the writen, that's three, and moreover, she knows all that a woman can." Then he looked up with tears in his eyes, and asked, — "Do you wondher the time seems long between me an' her, boys? " So it was. Nora at the dawn of day — Nora at noon — Nora at night — until the news came that the Stormy Pet- 28 scorer's successful recitations. rel had come to port, and Connor, breathless and pale with excitement, flung his cap in the air and shouted. It happened on a holiday afternoon, and half-a-dozen men were ready to go with Gonnor to the steamer and give his wife a greeting. Her little home was ready ; Mr. Bawne's own servant had put it in order, and Connor took one peep at it before he started. "Ah ! look at that will ye ? She hadn't the like of that in the old counthry, but she'll know how to keep them tidy, she will that." Then he led the way towards the dock where the steamer lay, and at a pace that made it hard for the rest to follow him. The spot was reached at last; a crowd of vehicles blockaded the street ; a troop of emigrants came thronging up; fine cabin passengers were stepping into cabs, and drivers, porters, and all manner of employees were yelling and shouting in the usual manner. Nora would wait on board for her husband, he knew that. The little group made their way into the vessel at last, and there, amid those who sat watching for coming friends, Connor searched for the two so dear to him ; pa- tiently at first, eagerly but patiently, but by-and-by growing anxious and excited. "She would never go alone, she'd be lost entirely; I bade her wait, but I don't see her, boys; I think she's not in it." " Why don't you see the captain?" asked one, and Connor jumped at the suggestion. In a few minutes he stood before a portly, rubicund man, who nodded to him kindly, "I am looking for my wife, yer honor, and I can't find her." " Perhaps she's gone ashore, my man." "I bade her wait." " Women don't always do as they are bid, you know." " Nora would, but maybe she was left behind. Maybe she didn't come. I somehow think she didn't." At the name of Nora the Captain started. In a moment he asked : " What is your name? " " Pat Connor." CONNOR. 29 "And your wife's name was Nora? " " That's her name, and the boy with her is Jamesy, yer honor," said Connor. The captain looked at Connor's friends, they looked at the captain. Then he said : " Sit down, my man ; I've got something to tell you." "She's left behind." " She sailed with us." " Where is she?" " My man, we all have our trials; God sends them. Yes — Nora started with us." Connor said nothing. He was looking at the captain now, white to his lips. "It's been a sickly season, we have had illness on board — the cholera. You know that." " I didn't. I can't read ; they kept it from me." " You know how long we lay at Quarantine? " " The ship I came in did that. Did ye say Nora went ashore ? Ought I be looking for her, captain ? " " Many died, many children. When we were half way here your boy was taken sick." "Jamesy," gasped Connor. " His mother watched him night and day, and we did all we could, but at last he died ; only one of many. There were five buried that day. But it almost broke my heart to see the mother looking out upon the water. "It's his father I think of," said she, "he's longing to see poor Jamesy." Connor groaned. "Keep up if you can, my man, (I wish any one else had it to tell rather than I). That night Nora was taken ill also; very suddenly, she grew worse fast. In the morn- ing she called me to her and said, ' Tell Connor I died thinking of him, tell him to meet me.' And my man, God help you, she never said anything more — in an hour she was gone." Connor had risen. He stood looking at the captain with his eyes dry as two stones. Then turned to his friends and exclaimed : — " Boys, I've got my death," then dropped to the deck like a log. 30 scorer's successful recitations. They raised him and bore him away. In an hour he was at home on the little bed which had been made ready for Nora, weary with her long voyage. There at last, he opened his eyes. Old Mr. Bawne bent over him; he had been summoned by the news, and the room was full of Connor's fellow- workmen. " Better, Connor ? " asked the old man. "A dale," said Connor. " It's aisy now ; I'll be with her soon. And look ye, masther, I've learnt one thing — God is good; He wouldn't let me bring Nora over to me, but he's takin' me over to her, and Jamesy over the river; don't you see him and her standin' on the other side to welcome me? " And with these words Connor stretched out his arms. Perhaps he did see Nora — Heaven only knows — and so died. DR. PARKER. CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE, Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of death Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns ! " he said. Into the valley of death, Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade! " Was there a man dismayed ? Not though the soldiers knew Some one had blundered : Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die : Into the valley of death, Rode the six hundred. CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE. 31 Cannon to the right of them, Cannon to the left of them, Cannon in front of them, Volleyed and thundered : Stormed at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well : Into the jaws of death, Into the mouth of hell, Rode the six hundred. Flashed all their sabers bare, Flashed as they turned in air, Sab'ring the gunners there, Charging an army, while All the world wondered : Plunged in the battery smoke, Right through the line they broke ; Cossack and Russian Reeled from the saber-stroke, Shattered and sundered. Then they rode back — but not, Not the six hundred. Cannon to the right of them, Cannon to the left of them, Cannon behind them, Volleyed and thundered : Stormed at with shot and shell, While horse and hero fell, They that had fought so well, Came through the jaws of death, Back from the mouth of hell, All that was left of them, Left of six hundred. When can their glory fade? Oh, the wild charge they made! All the world wondered. Honor the charge they made ! Honor the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred. 32 scorer's successful recitations. "IMPH— M." ( SCOTCH DIALECT. ) When I was a laddie langsyne at the sehule, The maister aye ca'd me a dunce an' a fule ; For somehoo his words I could ne'er un'erstan', Unless when he bawled " Jamie ! haud oot yer nan' !" Then I gloom'd, and said u Imph-m," I glunch'd, and said u Imph-m — " I wasna owre proud, but owre dour to say a-y-e ! Ae day a queer word, as lang nebbit's himsel', He vow'd he would thrash me if I wadna spell, Quo I, n maister Quill ! 'wi' a kin' o' a swither, u I'll spell ye the word if ye'll spell me anither. Let's hear ye spell c Imph-m,' That common word fc Imph-m,' That auld Scotch word 'Imph-m,' ye ken it means a-y-e!" Had ye seen hoo he glowr'd, hoo he scratched his big pate, An' shouted, "ye villain, get oot o' my gate ! Get aff to yer seat ! yer the plague o' the sehule ! The de'il o' me kens if yer maist rogue or fule." But I only said " Imph-m," That pawkie word " Imph-m," He couldna spell u Imph-m," that stands for an a-y-e! An' when a brisk wooer, I courted my Jean — O' Avon's braw lasses the pride an' the queen — When 'neath my grey plaidie, wi' heart beatin' fain, I speired in a whisper if she'd be my aim She blush'd, an' said u Imph-m," That charming word u Imph-m," A thoosan' times better an' sweeter than- A-y-e ! Just ae thing I wanted my bliss to complete — Ae kiss frae her rosy mou\ cauthie an' sweet — THE courtin'. 33 But a shake o' her heid was her only reply — Of course, that said No, hut I kent she meant A-y-e, For her twa een said " Iinph-m," Her red lips said " Imph-m," Her hale face said " Imph-m," an' u Imph-m" means A-y-e. JAMES NICHOLSON. THE COURTIN', ( YANKEE DIALECT. ) God makes sech nights, all white an' still Fur 'z you can look or listen. Moonshine an' snow on field an' hill, All silence an' all glisten. Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown An' peeked in thru' the winder, An' there sot Huldy all alone, 'Ith no one nigh to hinder. A fireplace filled the room's one side With half a cord o' wood in — There warn't no stoves (tell comfort died) To bake ye to a puddin'. The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out Towards the pootiest, bless her, An' leetle flames danced all about The chiny on the dresser. Agin the chimbley crook-necks hung, An' in amongst 'em rusted The ole queen's arm that gran'ther Young Fetched back from Concord busted. 34 scorer's successful recitations. The very room, coz she was in, Seemed warm from floor to ceilin', An' she looked full ez rosy agin Ez the apples she was peelin'. 'T was kin' o' kingdom-come to look On sech a blessed creetur, A dogrose blushin' to a brook Ain't modester nor sweeter. He was six foot o' man, A 1, Clean grit an' human natur' ; None could n't quicker pitch a ton . Nor dror a furrer straighter. He'd sparked it with full twenty gals, Had squired 'em, danced 'em, druv 'em, Fust this one, an' then thet, by spells — All is, he could n't love 'em. But long o' her his veins 'ould run All crinkly like curled maple, The side she breshed felt full o' sun, Ez a south slope in Ap'il. She thought no v'ice hed 'sech a swing Ez hisn in the choir ; ♦ My ! when he made Ole Hundred ring, She knowed the Lord was nigher. An she'd blush scarlit, right in prayer, When her new meetin'-bunnet Felt somehow thru' its crown a pair O' blue eyes sot upon it. Thet night, I tell ye, she looked some! She seemed to 've gut a new soul, For she felt sartin-sure he'd come, Down to her very shoe-sole. 3n She heered a foot, an' knowed it tu* A-raspin' on the scraper, — All ways to once her feelin's flew Like sparks in burnt-up paper. He kin' o' l'itered on the mat, Some doubtfle o' the sekle, His heart kep' goin' pity-pat, But hern went pity Zekle. An' yit she gin her cheer a jerk Ez though she wished him furder, An' on her apples kep' to work, Parin' away like murder. "You want to see my Pa, I s'pose? " " Wal ... no ... I come designin' "■ "" To see my ma? She's sprinkiin' clo'es Agin to-morrer's i'nin'." To say why gals act so or so, Or don't 'ould be presumin' ; Mebby to mean yes an' say no Comes nateral to women. He stood a spell on one foot fust, Then stood a spell on t'other, An' on which one he felt the wust He couldn't ha' told ye nuther. Says he, " I'd better call agin" ; Says she, " Think likely, Mister"; Thet last word pricked him like a pin, An' . . . Wal, he up an' kist her. When Ma bimeby upon 'em slips, Huldy sot pale ez ashes, All kin' o' smily 'roun the lips An' teary 'roun the lashes. 36 scorer's successful recitations. For she was jes' the quiet kind Whose naturs never vary, Like streams that keep a summer mind Snowhid in Jenooary. The blood clost roun' her heart felt glued Too tight for all expressing Tell mother see how matters stood, An gin 'em both her blessin'. Then her red come back like the tide Down to the Bay o' Fundy, An' all I know is they was cried In meetin' come nex' Sunday. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. HOW "RUBY" PLAYED. YANKEE DIALECT. ) Jud Browning, when visiting New York, heard Rubinstein perform upon the piano, and after his return to his home in Vermont, is sup- posed to give the following description of the performance to a number of his friends: Wall, sir, he hed the blamedest, biggest, catty-corned- est pianner you ever laid eyes onter; somethin' like a distracted billiard table on three legs. The led wus histed, and mighty wall it wus. If it hedn't a been, he'd a tore the intire enside clean out, and scattered 'em to the four winds of heaven. Eh, played well? Er-ugh! Wall I reckon; but don't interrupt me. When he fust sot down, he 'peared to keer mighty little 'bout playin' and wisht he hedn't come. He tweedle-leed'ed a leetle on the treble, and twoodle-oodldd some on the base — jest foolin and boxin' the things jawa for bein' in his way. And I says to a man set-tin' next to me, says I : " What sort of fool playin' do you call that?" "Heish!" But presently his hands commenced chasin* HOW "ruby" tlayed. 37 one another up and down the keys, like a passel of rats scamperin' through a garret very swift. Parts of it wus sweet, though, and reminded me of a sugar squirrel tarnin' the wheel of a candy cage. Says I, to my neighbor, says I, " he's showin' off. He thinks he's a-doin' it, but he ain't got no idee, no plan of nothin'. If he'd play me a tune of some kind or other I'd—" "Heish!" I wus jest about to git up and go hum, bein' tired of that foolishness, when I heard a little bird wakin' up away off in the woods, and call sleepy-like to his mate, and I looked up and see that Rubin wus beginnin' to take some interest in his business, and I sot down agin. It wus the peep o' day. The light came faint from the east, the breezes blowed gentle and fresh, some more birds waked up in the orchard, then some more in the trees near the house, and all begun singin' together. People began to stir, and the gal opened the shutters. Jest then the fust beam of the sun fell upon the blossoms a leetle more, and techt the roses on the bushes, and the next thing it wus broad day, the sun fairly blazed, the birds sang like they'd split thar leetle throats; all the leaves wus a movin', and flashin' diamonds of dew, and the hull wide world wus bright and happy as a king. Peared to me like thar wus a good breakfast in every house in the land, and not a sick woman or child anywhar. It wus a fine mornin'. Says I to my neighbor, says I : "That's what I call music, that is." But he glared at me like he'd like to cut my throat. Then the sun went down, it got dark, the wind moan- ed and wept like a lost child fur its dead mother, and I could a got up then and thar and preached a better sermon than any I ever listened to. Thar warn't a thing in the world left to live fur, not a blame thing, and yet I didn't want that music to stop one bit. It was happier to be miserable than it was to be miserable without bein' happy. I couldn't understand it. I hung my head, pulled out my handkerchief, and sneezed, real loud like to keep from cryin'. My eyes is weak anyway; I didn't want anybody 38 scorer's successful recitations. a-gazin' at me a-snivlin', and it's nobody's business what I do with my nose. It's my own. But some several glared at me mad as blazes. Then, all of a sudden, old Rubin changed his tune. He r-r-r-ripped and he r-r-r- rared, he tipped and he tared, he pranced and he charged like the grand entry at a circus. 'Peared to me like all the gas in the house wus turned on at the same time, things got so bright, and I hilt up my head, ready to look any man in the face, and I didn't care for nobody or nothin'. It was a circus, and a brass band, and a big ball all goin' on at the same time. He r-r-r-ripped into them keys like a thousand of brick ; he give 'em no rest night or day; he sot every livin' jint in me a-goin' and not be- in' able to stand it any longer, I jumped spang onto my feet, and jest hollered : "Go it Ruby, old boy, go it! " Every blamed man, woman, and child in the house riz on me, and shouted, " Put him out ! " " Put him out !" "Put him out!" "Put your great grandmother's grizzly gray greenish cat into the middle of next month ! " says I. "Tech me if you dare? I paid my money — Oh you jest come a-nigh me." With that several policemen run up, and I had to sim- mer down. But I would a-fit any fool that laid hands on me, fur 1 was bound to hear Ruby out or die. He changed his tune agin. He hop-light ladies and tip-toed fine from end to end of the key-board. He played low, and soft and solemn. I heard the church bell- 11-lls over the hills. The candles of heaven wus lit; one by one I saw the stars rise.. The great organ of eternity began to play from the world's end to the world's end and all the angels went to prayers. Then the music changed to water, full of feelin' that couldn't be thought, and began to drop — drip, drop — drip, drop, clear and sweet, like tears of joy falling into a lake of glory. Oh it wus sweeter than that. It wus as sweet as a sweet- heart sweetened with white sugar mixed with powdered silver and seed diamonds. Oh jest too sweet. I tell you the audience cheered. Rubin, he kinder bowed, like he wanted to say, " Much obleeged, but I'd ruther you HOW "ruby" played. 39 wouldn't interrup' me." He stopt a minute or two to ketch breath. Then he got mad. He run his fingers through his hair, he shoved up his sleeves, he opened his coat tails a leetle further, he he drug up his stool, he leaned over and, sir, he jest went for that old pianner. He slapt her face, he boxed her jaws, he pulled her nose, he pinched her ears, and he scratched her cheeks until she fairly yelled. He ran a quarter stretch down the low grounds of the base, till he got clean into the bowels of the arth, whar you could hear thunder galloping after thu-n-der, through the hol- lows and caves of pardition; then fox-chased his right hand with his left till he got away out of the treble into the clouds, whar the notes wus finer than the pints of cambric needles, and you couldn't hear nothin but the shadders of 'em. And then he wouldn't let the old pianner go. He for'ard two'd, he crossed over fust gentle- man, he chassade right and left, back to your places, he all hands'd aroun', ladies to the right, promenade all, in and out, here and thar, back and forth, up and down, perpetual motion, double twisted and turned and tacked and tangled into forty-eleven thousand double bow knots. Oh by jinks! it was a mixtery. And then he wouldn't let the old pianner go. He fetched up his right wing, he fetched up his left wing, he fetched up his centre, he fetched up his resarves. He fired by file, he fired by platoons, by company, by regiments, and by brigades. He opened his can- non — siege guns down thar, Napoleons here, twelve pounders yonder — big guns, little guns, middle-sized guns, round shot, shells, shrapnels, grape, canister, mortar, mines and magazines, every livin' battery and bomb a-goin' at the same time. The house trembled, the lights danced, the walls shuk, the floor came up an' the ceilin' come down, the sky split, an' the ground rokt, — heavens and earth, creation, sweet-potatoes, glory, ninepences, ten-penny nails, Samp- son in a 'simmon tree, p-r-r-r- ! p-r-r-r-r ! ! p-r-r-r-r ! ! L Bang ! ! ! With that bang ! he lifted himself bodily into the a'r and he came down with his knees, his ten fingers, his ten toes, his elbows, and his nose, strikin' every single solitary 40 scorer's successful recitations. key on that pianner at the same time. An ? the thing busted and went off into seventeen hundred fifty-seven thousand five hundred and forty-two heme-demi-semi quivers, and I know'd no more\ JOHN BURNS OF GETTYSBURG. Have you heard the story that gossips tell Of Burns of Gettysburg? No? Ah, well:— Brief is the glory that hero earns, Briefer the story of poor John Burns : He was the fellow who won renown — One of the men who didn't back down When the rebels rode through his native town But he held his own in the fight next day, When all his townsfolk ran away. That was in July, sixty-three, The very day that General Lee, Flower of southern chivalry. Baffled and beaten, backward reeled From a stubborn Meade and a barren field. I might tell how, but the day before, John Burns stood at his cottage door, Looking down the village street, Where, in the shade of his peaceful vine, He heard the low of his gathered kine, And felt their breath with incense sweet ; Or I might say, when the sunset burned The old farm gable, he thought it turned The milk, that fell in a babbling flood Into the milk-pail, red as blood ! Or how he fancied the hum of bees Were bullets whizzing among the trees. But all such fanciful thoughts as these Were strange to a practical man like Burns, Who minded only his own concerns, JOHN BURNS OF GETTYSBURG. 41 Troubled no more by fancies fine, Than one of his calm-eyed, long-tailed kine — Quite old-fashioned, and matter-of-fact, Slow to argue, but quick to act. That was the reason, as some folks say, He fought so well on that terrible da}\ And it was terrible. On the right Raged for hours the heavy fight, Thundered the battery's double bass — Difficult music for men to face ; While on the left — where now the graves Undulate like the living waves That all the day unceasing swept Up to the pits the rebels kept — Round shot plowed the upland glades, Sown with bullets, reaped with blades; Shattered fences here and there Tossed their splinters in the air; The very trees were stripped and bare ; The barns that once held yellow grain Were heaped with harvests of the slain. The cattle bellowed on the plain, The turkeys screamed with might and main, And brooding barn-fowl left their rest With strange shells bursting in each nest. Just where the tide of battle turns, Erect and lonely, stood old John Burns. How do you think the man was dressed ? He wore an ancient, long buff vest, Yellow as saffron — but his best; And, buttoned over his manly breast Was a bright blue coat with a rolling collar, And large gilt buttons — size of a dollar — With tails that country-folk called " swaller." He wore a broad-brimmed, bell-crowned hat, White as the locks on which it sat. Never had such a sight been seen 42 scorer's successful recitations. For forty years on the village-green, Since John Burns was a country beau, And went to the " quilting " long ago. Close at his elbows, all that day Veterans of the Peninsula, Sunburnt and bearded, charged away, And striplings, downy of lip and chin, — Clerks that the Home Guard mustered in — Glanced as they passed .at the hat he wore, Then at the rifle his right hand bore ; And hailed him from out their youthful lore, With scraps of a slangy repertoire : " How are you, White Hat? " " Put her through ! " u Your head's level ! " and, " Bully for you ! " Called him " Daddy " — and begged he'd disclose The name of the tailor who made his clothes, And what was the value he set on those ; While Burns, unmindful of jeer and scoff, Stood there picking the rebels off — With his long, brown rifle and bell-crown hat, And the swallow-tails they were laughing at. 'T was but a moment, for that respect Which clothes all courage their voices checked ; And something the wildest could understand Spake in the old man's strong right hand, And his corded throat, and the lurking frown Of his eyebrows under his old-bell crown ; Until, as they gazed, there crept an awe Through the ranks in whispers, and some men saw, In the antique vestments and long white hair The Past of the Nation in battle there. And some of the soldiers since declare That the gleam of the old man's hat afar, Like the crested plume of the brave Navarre, That day was their oriflamme of war. Thus raged the battle. You know the rest; How the rebels, beaten, and backward pressed, Broke at the final charge and ran. THE TWO BOOT-BLACKS. 4$ At which John Burns — a practical man Shouldered his rifle, unbent his brows, And then went back to his bees and cows. That is the story of old John Burns ; This is the moral the hearer learns : In lighting the battle, the question is whether You'll show a hat that's white, or a feather. BRET HARTE. THE TWO BOOT-BLACKS. A day or two ago during a lull in business, two little- boot-blacks, one white and one black, were standing at the corners doing nothing, when the white boot-black agreed to black the black boot-black's boots. The black boot-black was of course willing to have his boots blacked by his fellow boot-black, and the boot-black who had agreed to black the black boot-black's boots went to work. When the boot-black had blacked one of the black boot-black's boots till it shone in a manner that would make any boot-black proud, this boot-black who had agreed to black the black boot-black's boots refused to black the other boot of the black boot-black until the black boot-black, who had consented to have the white boot-black black his boots, should add five cents to the amount the white boot-black had made blacking other men's boots. This the boot-black whose boot had been blacked refused to do, saying it was good enough for a black boot-black to have one boot blacked, and he didn't, care whether the boot that the white boot-black hadn't blacked was blacked or not. This made the boot-black who had blacked the black boot-black's boot as angry as a boot-black often gets, and he vented his black wrath by spitting upon the blackened boot of the black boot-black. This roused the latent pas* sions of the black boot-black, and he proceeded to boot the white boot-black with the boot which the white boot- 44 scorer's successful recitations. black had blacked. A fight ensued, in which the white boot-black who had refused to black the unblacked boot of the black boot-black, blacked the black boot-black's vis- ionary organ, and in which the black boot-black wore all the blacking off his blacked boot in booting the white boot-black. THE RUGGLESE8' DINNER-PARTY. ( The character of Mrs. Ruggles is that of a New England fish-wife.) Before the earliest Ruggles could awake and toot his five-cent tin horn, Mrs. Ruggles was up and stirring, for. it was a gala day in the family. Her nine u childern " had been invited to a dinner-party at the great house across the way, and she had been preparing for the oc- casion ever since the receipt of the invitation. As soon as the scanty breakfast was over, Mrs. Rug- gles announced the plan of the campaign : " Now, Susan, you an' Kitty wash up the dishes; an' Peter, can't you spread up the beds, so 't I can git ter cuttin' out Larry's new suit? I ain't satisfied with his close, an' I thought in the night of a way to make him a dress out of my old plaid shawl — kinder Scotch style, yer know. You other boys clear out from under foot ! Clem, you and Con hop into bed with Larry while I wash yer underflannins. Sara Maud, I think 'twould be perfeckly han'som if you ripped them brass buttons off yer uncle's perliceman's coat an' sewed 'em in a row up the front o' yer green skirt. Susan you must iron out yours an' Kitty's apurns; an' there, I came mighty near forgettin' Peory's stockin's ! I counted the hull lot last night when I was washin' of 'em, an there ain't but nineteen anyhow yer fix 'em, an' no nine pairs mates nohow ; an' I ain't goin' ter have my childern wear odd stockin's to a dinner comp'ny, brought up as I was. Eily, run an' ask Mis Cull en ter' lend me a pair o' stockings for Peory, an' tell her if she will Peory'll give Jim half her candy when she gets home. Won't yer Peory? " THE RUGGLESES' DIXNER-FARTY. 45 Peoria was young and greedy, and thought the rem- edy so much worse than the disease that she set up a deafening howl at the projected bargain. " Xo, no, I won't lick yer Christmas day, if yer drive me crazy ; but speak up smart, now, 'n say whether yer'd ruther give Jim Cullen half yer candy or go bare-legged ter the party? " The matter being put so plainly, Peoria dried her tears and chose the lesser evil. ' t That's a lady. Now, you young ones that ain't doin' nothin', play all yer want ter before noontime, for after ye git through eatin', me 'n Sara Maud's goin' ter give yer sech a washin' an' a combin' an a dressin' as yer never had afore an' never will agin, an' then I'm goin' ter set yer down an' give yer two solid hours trainin' in manners; an' 'twont be no foolin' nuther." "All we've got ter do's go eat ! ' " Well, that's enough. There's more 'n one way of eatin', let me tell yer, an' you've got a heap ter learn about it, Peter Ruggles." The big Ruggleses worked so well that by one o'clock nine toilets were laid out in solemn grandeur. The law of compensation had been well applied; he that had necktie had no cuffs; she that had sash had no handker- chief; but they all had boots and a certain amount of clothing. " Xow, Sarah Maud, everythin' is red up an' we can begin. I've got a boiler 'n a kettle 'n pot o' hot water. Peter, you go into the bedroom, an' I'll take Susan, Kitty, Peory an' Cornelius; an' Sarah Maud, you take Clem, 'n Eily, 'n Larry, an' git as fur as you can with 'em, an' then I'll finish 'em off while you do yourself. Sara Maud couldn't have scrubbed with more decision if she had been doing floors. Not being satisfied with the '•tone'" of their complexions, she wound up by apply- ing Bristol brick from the knife-board, from under which the little Ruggleses issued red, raw and out of temper. When the clock struck three they were ready for the last touches. Then — exciting moment — came linen collars for some and neckties and bows for others, and Eureka! the Ruggleses were dressed, and Solomon in all his glory 46 scorer's successful recitations. was not arrayed like one of these. A row of seats was formed down the middle of the kitchen, and Mrs. Rug- .gles surveyed them proudly as she wiped the sweat of honest toil from her brow. " Well, if I do say so as shouldn't, I never see a cleaner, more stylisher mess o' childern in my life ! Now, I've of'n told ye what kind of a family the McGrills was. I've got reason to be proud; your uncle is on the po-lice force o' .New York City. Now, I want ter see how yer goin' ter behave when yer git there ter-night. Let's start in at the beginnin' 'n act out the hull business. Pile into the bedroom every one of ye, an' show me how yer goin' ter go into the parlor. This '11 be the parlor, an' I '11 be Mis' Bird." The youngsters hustled into the next room in high glee. Presently there ensued such a clatter that you would have thought a herd of wild cattle had broken loose; the door opened and they straggled in, the little ones giggling, with Sarah Maud at the head, looking as if she had been caught stealing sheep, while Larry dis- graced himself by tumbling in head foremost. " There, I knew yer'd do it in some sech fool way; try it agin, 'n if Larry can't come in on two legs he can stay ter hum ! " The matter began to assume a grave aspect ; the little Puggleses stopped giggling and issued presently with 4 lock step, Indian file, a scared expression on every coun- tenance. " No, no, no ! Yer look for all the world like a gang o' pris'ners; there ain't no style ter that; spread out more, an' act kind o' careless like — nobody's goin' ter kill yer! " The third time brought success. " Now, yer know there ain't enough decent hats to go round an' if there was I don't know's I 'd let yer wear 'em, for the boys would never think to take 'em off. Now, look me in the eye. Yer needn't wear no hats, none of yer, an' when yer git into the parlor 'n they ask yer to lay off yer hats, Sarah Maud must speafc up an' say it was sech a pleasant evenin' an' sech a short walk that ye left yer hats to hum. Now can ye remember ? " THE RUGGLESES' DINNER-PARTY. 47 All the little Ruggleses shouted, " Yes marm." k, Yes marm." ''Yesmanii." "What have you got ter do with it; did I tell you to say it? Wasn't I talking to Sarah Maud? Now, git up, all of ye, an' try it. Speak up, Sarah Maud." Sarah Maud's tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. -Quick!" -Ma thought — it was — sech a pleasant hat that we'd — we'd better leave our short walk to home." Oh dear, oh dear! whatever shall I do with yer?" " I suppose I've to teach it to yer ! " 61 Now, Cornelius, what are you goin' ter say ter make yourself good company?" ^Idunno!" "Well, ye ain't goin' to set there like a bump on a log 'thout sayin' a word ter pay for yer vittles, air ye? Ask Mis' Bird how she's feelin' this evenin', or if Mr. Bird's havin' a busy season, or somethin' like that. Now, we'll make believe we've got ter the dinner; that won't be so hard, 'cause yer'll have something to do ; its awful bother- some ter stan ? round an' act stj r lish. If they have napkins, Sarah Maud down to Peory may put 'em in their laps, 'n the rest of ye can tuck 'em in yer necks. Don't eat with yer fingers ; don't grab no vittles off one 'nother's plates ; don't reach out for nothin', but wait till yer asked, 'n if yer never git asked, don't git up and grab it ; don't spill nothin' on the tablecloth, or like 's not Mis' Bird '11 send yer away from the table. Now, we '11 try a few things ter see how they '11 go. Mr Clement, do you eat cramb'ry sarse?" " Ye bet yer life ! " u Clement Ruggles, do ye mean to tell me that yer 'd say that to a dinner-party ? I'll give ye one more chance. Mr. Clement, will ye take some of the cramb'rys?" " Yes marm, thank ye kindly, if yer happen ter have any handy," " Very good, indeed ! Mr. Peter do you speak for white or dark meat?" 4t I ain't partic'lar as ter color; anythin' that nobody else wants will suit me." w First rate! nobody could speak more genteel than 48 scorer's successful recitations. that. Miss Kitty, will you have hard or soft sarse with your pudden ! " "A little of both, if you please, an' I'm much obliged. " u You just stop yer lafin', Peter Haggles; that was all right. Now, is there anythin' more ye'd like to practize?" 6 *If yer tell me one more thing I can't set up an' eat, I'm so cram full o' manners now I'm ready to bust 'thout no dinner at all." "Well, I'm sorry for yer, Peter Ruggles, if the 'mount o' manners yer've got on hand troubles ye, you're dreadful easy hurt ! Now, Sarah Maud, after dinner, about once in so often you must say, w I guess we'd better be goin' ; ' an' if they say, 'Oh, no ; set a while longer,' yer can stay ; but if they don't say nothin' yer've got ter git up an' git. Can you remember?" "Well, seems as if this hull dinner-party sot right square on top o' me ! May be I could manage my own man- ners, but ter manage nine mannerses is worse 'n stayin' to hum !" u Oh, don't fret; I guess you'll git along. Now yer can go, an' whatever yer do, don't forget yer mother was a McGrill ! " The children went, Sarah Maud reciting under her breath, " It-was-sech-a-pleasant-evenin'-an'-sech-a-short walk-we-thought-we'd-leave-our-hats-to-hum." A ser- vant admitted them and, whispering in Sarah's ear, drew her down stairs. The other Ruggleses stood in horror- stricken groops as the door closed behind their command- ing officer. But there was no time for reflection, for a voice said, "Come right up stairs, please." Accordingly they went up stairs. But it was fate that Mrs. Bird should say, " Did you lay your hats in the hall? " Peter felt himself elected by circumstance the head of the fam- ily, and said, "It was so very pleasant that — that — " " That we hadn't good hats enough to go round," put in Susan, and then froze with horror that the ill-fated words had slipped off her tongue. At half-past H\e the dinner-table stood revealed and the Ruggleses, forgetting that their mother was a Mc- Grill, shrieked in admiration. Larry climbed up like a squirrel into the high chair that was set for him, clapped IN AN ATELIER. 49 his hands and cried, "I beat the hull lot o' yer!" Peter nudged Kitty, who sat next him, and said: " Look, will yer, ev'ry feller's got his own particular but- ter; I s'pose that's to show yer can eat that much 'n no more. No, it ain't nuther, for that pig of a Peory's just gittin' another helpin' ! " " Yes," whispered Kitty, "an' the napkins is marked with big red letters ; I wonder if that 's so nobody '11 nip 'em; an' oh, Peter, look at the pictures painted right on ter the dishes ; did you ever ! " " The plums is all took out o' my cramb'ry sarse, an' it's friz to a jell !" shouted Peoria. " Hi — yah ! I got a wish-bone ;" sung Larry. " I declare to goodness, there's so much to look at I can't scrasely eat nothin' ! " murmured Susan. " Bet yer life I can ! " said Peter, who had kept one servant busy ever since he sat down. The feast being over, a door was opened and there stood the brilliantly lighted Christmas tree, glittering with gilded walnuts , and wreathed with snowy chains of pop-corn. You can well believe that everybody was very merry. All the family said they had never seen so much happiness in the space of three hours ; and when, at half-past eight, the little Kuggleses were sent home, it was with the happiest of thoughts about Kuggleses' Din- ner-party. KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN. IN AN ATELIER, I pray you, do not turn your head; And let your hands lie folded, so. It was a dress like this, wine-red, That Dante liked so, long ago. You don't know Dante ? Never mind. He loved a lady wondrous fair — His model? Something of the kind. I wonder if she had your hair ! 50 scorer's successful recitations. I wonder if she looked so meek, And was not meek at all (my dear, I want that side light on your cheek). He loved her, it is very clear, And painted her, as I paint you, But rather better, on the whole (Depress your chin ; yes, that will do) : He was a painter of the soul ! (And painted portraits, too, I think, In the Inferno — devilish good ! I'd make some certain critics blink If I'd his method and his mood.) Her name was (Fanny, let your glance Eest there, by that majolica tray) — Was Beatrice ; they met by chance — They met by chance, the usual way. (As you and I met, months ago, Do you remember ? How your feet Went crinkle-crinkle on the snow Along the bleak gas-lighted street ! An instant in the drug-store's glare You stood as in a golden frame, And then I swore it, then and there, To hand your sweetness down to fame.) They met, and loved, and never wed (All this was long before our time), And though they died, they are not dead — Such endless youth gives mortal rhyme ! Still walks the earth, with haughty mien, Great Dante, in his soul's distress ; And still the lovely Florentine Goes lovely in her wine-red dress. You do not understand at all ? He was a poet; on his page He drew her; and, though kingdoms fall, This lady lives from age to age : IN AN ATELIER. 51 A poet — that means painter too, For words are colors rightly laid ; And they outlast our brightest hue, For varnish cracks and crimsons fade. The poets — they are lucky ones ! When we are thrust upon the shelves, Our works turn into skeletons Almost as quickly as ourselves; For our poor canvas peels at length, At length is prized — when all is bare : son as catching three hundred foxes, tying them tail to tail, setting firebrands in their midst, starting them among the stand- ing corn of the Philistines, and burning it down. As he closed the de- scription, he shut the book, and commenced the eloocidalion as follows: "My dear freends, I daresay you have been wonder- ing in your minds how it was possible for Sampson to catch three hundred foxes. You or me couldna catch one fox, let alone three hundred — the beasts run so fast. It taks a great company of dogs and horses and men to catch a fox, and they do not always catch it then — the cra'ter whiles gets away. But lo and behold ! here we have one single man, all by himself, catching three hundred of THE FOXES' TAILS. 107 them. Now how did he do it? — that's the pint; and at first sight it looks a gey an' kittle pint. But it's not so kittle as it looks, my freends; and if you give me your undivided attention for a few minutes I'll clear away the the whole difficulty, and mak what now seems dark and incomprehensible to your uninstructed minds as clear as the sun in his noonday meridian. M Well, then, we are told in the Scriptures that Sam- son was the strongest man that ever lived; and, further- more, we are told in the chapter next after the one we have been reading, that he was a very polite man ; for when he was in the house of Dagon, he bowed with all his might; and if some of you, my freends, would only bow with half your might it would be all the better for you. But, although we are told all this, we are not told that he was a great runner. But if he catched these three hundred foxes he must have been a great runner, an awful runner; in fact, the greatest runner that ever was born. But, my freends — an' here's the eloocidation o' the matter — ye'll please bear this in mind, that although we are not told he was the greatest runner that ever lived, still we're not told he wasna; and therefore I contend that we have a perfect right to assume, by all the laws of Logic and Scientific History, that he was the fastest run- ner that ever was born ; and that was how he catched his three hundred foxes ! "But after we get rid of this difficulty, my freends, another crops up — after he has catched his three hundred foxes, how does he manage to keep them all together? This looks almost as kittle a pint as the other — to some it might look even kittler ; but if you will only bring your common sense to bear on the question, the difficulty will disappear like the morning cloud, and the early dew that withereth away. " Xow you will please bear in mind, in the first place > that it was foxes that Samson catched. Now we don't catch foxes, as a general rule, in the streets of a toon ; therefore, it is more than probable that Sampson catched them in the country, and if he catched them in the coun- try it is natural to suppose that he 'bided in the country ; and if he 'bided in the country it is not unlikely that he 108 scorer's successful recitations. lived at a farm-house. Now at farm-houses we have stables, and byres, and coach-houses, and barns, and there- fore we may now consider it a settled pint, that as he catched his foxes, one by one, he stapped them into a good sized barn, and steeked the door and locked it, — here we overcome the second stumbling block. But no sooner have we done this, than a third rock of offense loups up to fickle us. After he has catched his foxes ; after he has got them all snug in the barn under lock and key — how in the world did he tie their tails thegitherf There is a fickler. You or me couldna tie two o' their tails thegither — let alone three hundred ; for, not to speak about the beasts girnning and biting us a' the time we were tying them, the tails themselves are not long enough. How then was he able to tie them all? That's the pint — and it is about the kittlistpint you or me has ever had to eloocidate. Common sense is no good to't. ]STo more is Latin or Greek; no more Logic or Metaphysics ; no more is Natural Philos- ophy or Moral Philosophy; no more is Rhetoric or Bell's Letters, even, and I've studied them a' mysel' ; but it is a great thing for poor, ignorant folk like ye, that great and learned men have been to colleges, and universities, and seats o' learning — like mysel', ye ken — and instead o' going into the kirk, like me, or into physic, like the doctor, or in- to law, like the lawyer, they have gone traveling into foreign parts; and they have written books o' their trav- els; and you and me can read their books. Now, among other places, some of these learned men have traveled into Canaan , and some into Palestine, and some few into the Holy Land ; and these last mentioned travelers tell us, that in these Eastern or Oriental climes, the foxes there are a total different breed o' cattle aHhegither frae our foxes ; that they are great big beasts — and, what's the most aston- ishing thing about them, and what helps to explain this wonderful feat of Samson's, is, that they've all got most extraordinary long tails ; in fact, these travelers tell us that these foxes' tails are actually forty feet long. Precentor (whistles). Minister (somewhat disturbed). Oh ! I ought to say that there are other travelers, and later travelers than the travelers I've been talking to you about, and they say . ALEX-AND-HER. 109 this statement is rather an exaggeration on the whole, and that these foxes' tails are never more than twenty feet long. Precentor (whistles). Minister (disturbed and confused). Be — he — before I leave this subject a'thegither, my friends, I may jeest add that there has been considerable diversity o' opinion about the length o' these animals' tails. Ye see one man differs frae anither man, and I've spent a good lot o' learned research in the matter mysel' ; and after examin- ing one authority, and anither authority, and putting one authority agin the ither authority, I'v come to the con- clusion that these foxes' tails are seldom more tham fifteen and a half feet long. Precentor (whistles). Minister (angrily). Sandy MacDonald, I'll no tak anither inch aff o' the beast's tails, even gin ye should whustle every tooth oot o' your head. Do ye think the foxes o' the Scriptures had na tails at a' ? ALEX-AXD-HEK. There was a chap who kept a store, And though there might be grander, He sold his goods to all who came, And his name was Alexander. He mixed his goods with cunning hand, He was a skillful brander ; And, since his sugar was half sand, They called him Alex-Sander. He had his dear one, and she came, And lovingly he scanned her ; He asked her would she change her name, Then a ring did Alex-hand-her. 110 scorer's successful recitations. "Oh, yes," she said, with smiling lip, " If I can be commander; ?? And so they framed a partnership, And called it Alex-and-her. THE DYING CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL. Vital spark of heavenly flame, Quit, oh ! quit this mortal frame ! Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying, — Oh the pain — the bliss of dying ! Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife, And let me languish into life ! Hark ! they whisper : angels say, " Sister spirit, come away ! " What is this absorbs me quite, — Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath? — Tell me, my soul ! can this be death ! The world recedes — it disappears ; Heaven opens on my eyes; my ears With sounds seraphic ring : Lend, lend your wings ! I mount, I fly ! O Grave ! where is thy victory? O Death ! where is thy sting ? ALEXANDER POPE. " 'RASTUS." Um-m, fo' de Lod's sake ! da am dat chile down da on dat rail track agin playin' wid dat white trash. Fust thing yo' know he dun gon' git kill. Look heah 'Rastus, come in heah off da railroad track. Quitplayin' with dat I'sh trash. Clar to goodness folks think yo' was I'sh. Dey lick all de lasses off yo' bread, den de call yo' nigge. Um-m, deed dey will ! Come right in de house heah ! Oh ! I slap de life out o' yo' ! De idea! yo' hab yo' poor ole mudder's life worried out o' her. 'Rastus, come in heah. Yo heah' me? TOUSSAINT L'OIVERTUKE. Ill TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE. Some doubt the courage of the negro. Go to Hayti, and stand on those fifty thousand graves of the best soldiers France ever had, and ask them what they think of the negro's sword. And if that does not satisfy you, go to France, to the splendid mausoleum of the Counts of Roch- ambeau, and to the eight thousand graves of Frenchmen who skulked home under the English flag, and ask them. And if that does not satisfy you, come home, and if it had been October, 1859. you might have come back by way of quaking Virginia, and asked her what she thought of negro courage. You may also remember this, — that w r e Saxons were slaves about four hundred years, sold with the land, and our fathers never raised a finger to end that slavery. They wait- ed till Christianity and civilization, till commerce and the discovery of America, melted away their chains. Every race has been, some time or another, in chains. But there never was a race that, weakened and degraded by such chat- tel slavery, unaided, tore off its own fetters, forged them in- to swords, and won its liberty on the battle-field, but one, and that was the black race of St. Domingo. So much for the courage of the negro. Now look at his endurance. In 1805 he said to the white men, "This island is ours ; not a white foot shall touch it. ,, Side by side with him stood the South American republics, planted by the best blood of the countrymen of Lope de Vega and Cervan- tes. They topple over so often that you could no more da- guerreotype their crumbling fragments than you could the waves of the ocean. And yet, at their side, the negro has kept his island sacredly to himself. Now, blue-eyed Saxon, proud of your race, go back with me to the commencement of the century, and select what statesman you please. Let him be either American or European ; let him have a brain the result of six generations of culture ; let him have the ripest training of university routine; let him add to it the better education of practical life; crown his temples with the silver of seventy years; and show me the man of Saxon lineage for whom his most sanguine admirer will wreath a laurel rich as embittered foes have placed on the brow of this negro. 112 scorer's successful recitations. I would call him Napoleon, but Napoleon made his way to empire over broken oaths and through a sea of blood. This man never broke his word. I would call him Cromwell, but Cromwell was only a soldier, and the state he founded went down with him into his grave. I would call him Washington, but the great Virginian held slaves. This man risked his empire rather than permit the slave trade in the humblest village in his dominions. You think me a fanatic to-night, for you read history not with your eyes, but with your prejudices. But fifty years hence, when Truth gets a hearing, the Muse of His- tory will put Phocion for the Greek, and Brutus for the Koman, Hampden for England, Fayette for France, choose Washington as the bright, consummate flower of our earlier civilization, and John Brown the ripe fruit of our noon-day; then, dipping her pen in the sunlight, will write in the clear blue, above them all, the name of the soldier, the statesman, the martyr, Toussaint L'Ouverture. wendell phillips. THE BLUE WART. Young Mulkettle went to school a few days ago for the first time. He had been carried through a course of sprouts at home in preparation for the heavier duties of school life, and his examinations were so satisfactory that Mrs. Mulkettle congratulated herself on her skill as a teacher. It was decided that he should attend a private school, taught by a pious maiden lady, with angular shape and a blue wart on the side of her nose. "Now Miss Ray," said Mrs. Mulkettle, when she pre- sented the boy for the first time to the teacher, " I want you to make him mind you. I don't think you will find him self-willed. He is easily governed by kind treat- ment. I think he will become very much attached to you and I feel sure that you will learn to love him." "Oh, I am quite sure," replied Miss Ray, who had been much more successful in her love affairs with chil* THE BLUE WART. 113 dren than she had with men. "All iny scholars love me. Don't throw paper wads, Tommy Peters. They soon learn that though I am gentle, I will be obeyed. Johnny Amos, don't rake the wall with that nail ! " " Well, I will leave him with you, Miss Ray. Willie, be a good boy." " Yess'um." " Don't let me hear any bad reports from you." "No'um." "Come here my little man and let me see how far you are advanced," said Miss Ray when his mother had gone. " I am way past baker and shady and lady and I can read and write easy words, and {looking up he notices the wart) what's that on your nose? " " You can read some, can you? " " Imph-m. What's that on your nose? " " Its a wart. Now pay attention to me." " It's a mighty funny wart. What kind of a wart is it?" " I don't know. Now pay attention to me." " You know its blue, don't you? " "Yes." " Thought you didn't know." " Hush, now, and let me see how far you have gone." "Does it hurt?" "No." " Why don't you pick it? " "Hush now children. You are enough to drive a body wild." " Don't you wish it wasn't there? " "No. Now look here." " I am looking there. Why don't you pull that hair out of It— Oh ! no it ain't a hair. I thought it was." "If you don't stop asking so many questions, I'll send you home." " But I want to know what I want to know, just as bad as you want to know what you want to know." " Well, what do you want to know. I'll satisfy you if it is in my power." "How long has that wart been there? " "Ever since I can remember." i 114 scorer's successful recitations, " Has it been blue all the time ? " " Yes." "Will it always be blue? " " I suppose it will." " Don't you ever try to take it off? " "No." " Why haven't you?" " Because I haven't." " Why because you haven't? " " I don't know." " Why?" " You are enough to drive a body crazy." "It keeps you from getting married, don't it? Cause no body wouldn't want " "You leave here this minute, you good for nothing little rascal. Go home and don't you ever come back again." A HINDOO TALE, A Hindoo died, — a happy thing to do When twenty years united to a shrew. Released, he joyfully for entrance cries Before the gates of Brahma's paradise. " Hast been through purgatory ? " Brahma said, "I've been married," — and meekly hung his head. " Come in, come in, and welcome, too, my son ! Marriage and purgatory are as one." With bliss supreme he entered heaven's door, And felt the peace he ne'er had known before. He scarce had entered the garden fair, Another Hindoo asked admission there. The self-same question Brahma asked again : " Hast been through purgatory ? " " No — what then ? " " Thou canst not enter ! " did the sage reply. " He who went in has been no more than I." "All that is true, but he has married been, And so on earth has suffered for all sin." "Married? Ah! 'tis well; I've been married twice." " Begone ! We'll have no fools in Paradise ? " DRIFTING. 115 DRIFTING. My soul to-day is far away, Sailing the Vesuvian Bay ; My winged boat, a bird afloat, Swims round the purple peaks remote : — Round purple peaks it sails, and seeks Blue inlets, and their crystal creeks, Where high rocks throw, through deeps below, A duplicated golden glow. Far, vagute and dim, the mountains swim : While on Vesuvius' misty brim, With outstretched hands, the gray smoke stands O'erlooking the volcanic lands. Here Ischia smiles o'er liquid miles; And yonder, bluest of the isles, Calm Capri waits, her sapphire gates Beguiling to her bright estates. I heed not, if my rippling skiff Float swifc or slow from cliff to cliff; — With dreamful eyes my spirit lies Under the walls of Paradise. The day, so mild, is Heaven's own child, With Earth and Ocean reconciled ; — The airs I feel around me steal Are murmuring to the murmuring keel. Over the rail my hand I trail Within the shadow of the sail, A joy intense, the cooling sense, Glides down my drowsy indolence. With dreamful eyes my spirit lies Where Summer sings and never dies, — O'erveiled with vines, she glows and shines Among her future oil and wines. 116 scorer's successful recitations. Her children hid the cliffs amid, Are gamboling with the gamboling kid; Or down the walls, with tipsy calls, Laugh on the rocks like waterfalls. The fisher's child, with tresses wild, Unto the smooth, bright sand beguiled, With glowing lips sings as she skips, Or gazes at the far-off ships. Yon deep bark goes where traffic blows, From lands of sun to lands of snows; — This happier one, its course is run From lands of snow to lands of sun. Oh, happy ship, to rise and dip, With the blue crystal at your lip ! Oh, happy crew, my heart with you Sails, and sails, and sings anew! No more, no more the worldly shore Upbraids me with its loud uproar ! With dreamful eyes my spirit lies Under the walls of Paradise. t. b. read, A FRENCHMAN'S OPINION OF THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH. "Ah ! your Mossieu' Shak-es-pier ! He is gr-r-aa-nd — mysterieuse — soo-blime! You 'ave reads ze Macabess? — ze scene of ze Mossieu' Macabess vis ze Vitch — eh? Superb sooblimitee? W'en he say to ze Yitch, 'Ar-r- roynt ze, Yitch ! ' she go away : but what she say when she go away ? She say she will do s'omesing dat aves got no naame ! 'Ah, ha ! ' she say, ' I go, like ze r-r-aa-t vizout ze tail but I'll do! I'll do I I'll do!' Wat she do? Ah, ha! A TEXAS DUEL. 117 — voila le graand mysterieuse Mossieu' Shak-es-pier ! She not say what she do ! " This was "grand," to be sure: but the prowess of Macbeth, in his "bout" with Macduff, awakens all the mercurial Frenchman's martial ardor: — " Mossieu' Macabess, he see him come, clos' by; he say (proud empressment), 'Come o-o-n, Mossieu' Macduff's, and d — d be he who first say Enoffs! ' Zen zey fi-i-ght — moche. Ah, ha! — voila! Mossieu' Macabess, vis his br-r-ight r-r-apier ' pink' him, vat you call, in his body. He 'ave gots mal d'estomac: he say, vis grand simplicite, 'Enoffs! ' What for he say ' Enoffs ? ' 'Cause he got enoffs — plaanty; and he expire, r-rr-ight away, 'mediately, pretty quick! Ah, mes amis, Mossieu' Shak-es-pier is rising man in La Belle France ! " A TEXAS DUEL, The other day a duel was fought in Texas by Alex- ander Shott and John S. Xott. Xott was shot, and Shott was not. In this case it was better to be Shott than Xott. There was a rumor that Xott was not shot but Shott avows that he shot Xott, which proves either that the shot Shott shot at Xott was not shot, or that Xott was shot, notwithstanding. Circumstantial evidence is not always good. It may be made to appear ou trial that the shot Shott shot, shot Xott, or, as accidents with firearms are frequent, it may be possible that the shot Shott shot, shot Shott himself, when the whole affair would resolve itself into its original elements, and Shott would be shot and Xott would be not. We think, however, that the shot Shott shot, shot not Shott, but Xott; anyway it was hard to tell who was shot. 118 scorer's successful recitations. SHAMUS O'BKIEN. ( IRISH DIALECT. ) The war of 1792- '98 was the most disastrous recorded in Irish history. The loss of life was enormous. Some counties were almost depopulated. Jist afcher the war, in the year '98, Whin the byes of aulcl Ireland wor scattered and bate, 'Twas the custom, whinever a pisant was got, To hang him by thrial — barrin' sich as was shot. There was trial by jury goin' on by daylight, And the martial-law hangin' the lavins by night. It 's thim was hard times for an honest gossoon : If he missed in the judges — he 'd meet a dragoon; An' whether the sodgers or judges gev sentence, The divil a much time they allowed for repintence. An' it 's many 's the fine bye was thin on his keepin' Wid small share iv restin' or atin' or sleepin'. An' because they loved Erin, an' scorned to sell it, A prey for the bloodhound, a mark for the bullet — Unsheltered by night, and unrested by day, With the heath for their barrack, revenge for their pay; An' the bravest an' hardiest bye iv thim all Was Shamus O'Brien, from the town iv Glingali. His limbs were well set, an' his body was light, An' the keen-fanged hound had not teeth half so white ; But his face was as pale as the face of the dead. And his cheek never warmed with the blush of the red. An' for all that he wasn't an ugly young bye, For the divil himself couldn't blaze with his eye, So droll an' so wicked, so dark and so bright, Like a fire-flash that crosses the depth of the night ! An' he was the best mower that ever has been, An' the illigantist hurler that ever was seen. An' in fencin' he gave Patrick Mooney a cut, An' in jumpin' he bate Tim Mulloney a fut; An' for lightness of fut there was n't his peer, SHAMUS O'BRIEN. 119 For, be gorra, he could almost outrun the red deer ! An' his dancin was sich that the men used to stare. An' the women turn crazy, he did it so quare ; An' by gorra, the whole world gev in to him there. An' it 's he was the bye that was hard to be caught, An' it 's often he run, an' it 's often he fought, An' it 's many the one can remimber right well The quare things he done : an' it 's often I heerd tell How he frightened the magistrates in Caharbally, An' 'scaped through the sodgers in Aherloe valley ; How he lathered the yeomen, himself agin four, An' stretched the two strongest on old Galtimore. But the fox must sleep sometimes, the wild deer must rest, And in the darkness of night he was taken at last. An' as soon as a few weeks was over an gone, The terrible day iv the thrial kem on, There was sich a crowd there was scarce room to stand, An' sodgers on guard, an' dhragoons sword-in-hand ; An' the court-house so full that the people were bothered, An' attorneys an' criers on the point iv bein' smothered ; An' counsellors almost gev over for dead, An' the jury sittin' up in their box overhead ; An' the judge settled out so detarmined an' big With his gown on his back, and an illegant new wig ; An' silence was called, an' the minute it was said The court was as still as the heart of the dead, An' they heard but the openin' of one prison lock, An' Shamus O'Briex kem into the dock. For a minute he turned his eye round on the throng, An' he looked at the bars, so firm and so strong, An' he saw that he had not a hope nor a friend, A chance to escape, nor a word to defend ; An' he folded his arms as he stood there alone, As calm and as cold as a statue of stone ; And they read a big writin', a yard long at laste, An' Jim didn't understand it, nor mind it a taste, An' the judge took a big pinch iv snuff, and he says, "Are you guilty or not, Jim O'Brien, av you plase? " 120 scorer's successful recitations. An' all held their breath in the silence of dhread, An' Shamus O'Brien made answer and said : " My lord, if you ask me, if in my life-time I thought any treason, or did any crime That should call to my cheek, as I stand alone here, The hot blush of shame, or the coldness of fear, Though I stood by the grave to receive my death-blow Before God and the world I would answer you, no! But if you would ask me, as I think it like, If in the rebellion I carried a pike, An' fought for ould Ireland from the first to the close, An' shed the heart's blood of her bitterest foes, I answer you, yis; and I tell you agin', Though I stand here to perish, it 's my glory that thin In her cause I was willing my veins should run dhry, An' that now for her sake I am ready to die." Then the silence was great, and the jury smiled bright, An' the judge wasn't sorry the job was made light; By my sowl, it's himself was the crabbed ould chap ! In a twinklin' he pulled on his ugly black cap. Then Shamus' mother in the crowd standin' by, Called out to the judge with a pitiful cry : "O, judge ! darlin', don't, O, don't say the word ! The crather is young, have mercy, my lord; He was foolish, he didn't know what he was doin' ; You don't know him, my ljn'd — O, don't give hirn to ruin ! He's the kindliest crathur, the tindherest-hearted; Don't part us forever, we that 's so long parted. Judge, mavourneen, forgive him, forgive him, my lord, An' God will forgive — O, don't, don't say the word ! " That was the first minute that O'Brien was shaken, Whin he saw that he was not quite forgot or forsaken ; An' down his pale cheeks, at the word of his mother, The big tears wor runnin' fast, one afther th' other; An' two or three times he endeavored to spake, But the sthrong manly voice used to falther and break; But at last, by the strength of his high-mounting pride, He conquered and masthered his grief's swelling tide, SHAMUS O'BRIEN. 121 "An'," says he, u mother, darlin', don't break your poor For, sooner or later, the dearest must part ; [heart, And God knows it 's betther than wandering in fear On the bleak, trackless mountain, among the wild deer, To lie in the grave, where the head, heart, and breast, From thought, labor, and sorrow, forever shall rest. Then, mother, my darlin', don't cry any more, Don't make me seem broken, in this, my last hour, For I wish, when my head 's lyin' undher the raven, Xo thrue man can say that I died like a craven ! " Thin towards the Judge, Shamus bent down his head, An' that minute the solemn death-sentence was said. At last they threw open the big prison-gate, An' out came the sheriffs and sodgers in state, An' a cart in the middle an' Shamus was in it, Xot paler, but prouder than iver, that minute. An' as soon as the people saw Shamus O'Brien, Wid prayin' and blessin', and all the girls cryin', A wild wailin' sound kem on by degrees, Like the sound of the lonesome wind bio win' through trees. On, on to the gallows the sheriffs are gone, An' the cart an' the sodgers go steadily on ; An' at every side swellin' around of the cart, A wild, sorrowful sound, that id open your heart. Now under the gallows the cart takes its stand, An' the hangman gets up with the rope in his hand ; An' the priest, bavin' blest him, goes down on the ground An' Shamus O'Brien throws one last look around. Then the hangman dhrew near, an' the people grew still, Young faces turned sickly, and warm hearts turn chill; An' the rope bein' ready, his neck was made bare, For the gripe iv the life-strangling chord to prepare ; An' the good priest has left him, havin' said his last prayer. But the good priest did more, for his hands he unbound An' with one daring spring Jim has leaped on the ground ; Bang ! bang ! goes the carbines, and clash goes the sabres ; He's not down! he's alive still! now stand to him, neighbors! Through the smoke and the horses he's into the crowd, — By the heavens, he's free ! — * * * * * * 122 scorer's successful recitations. The soclgers ran this way, the sheriffs ran that, An' Father Malone lost his new Sunday hat; To-night he '11 be sleepin' in Aherloe Glin, An' the divil 's in the dice if you catch him ag'in. Your swords they may glitter, your carbines go bang, But if you want hangin' it 's yourself you must hang. Well, a week after this time without firing a cannon, A sharp, Yankee schooner sailed out of the Shannon, And the captain left word he was going to Cork, But the divil a bit, he was bound for New York. The very next spring, a bright morning in May, Just six months after the great hangin' day, A letter was brought to the town of Kildare. An' on the outside was written out fair "To ould Mistress O'Brien in Ireland or elsewhere. " And the inside began, "My dear good old mother, I'm safe — and I'm happy — and not wishing to bother You in the readin' (with the help of the priest) I send you inclosed in this letter at least Enough to pay him and fetch you away To this land of the free and the brave, Amerikay. Here you '11 be happy and never nade cryin' So long as you 're mother of Shamus O'Brien. An' give me love to swate Biddy and tell her beware Of that spalpeen who calls himself Lord of Kildare. An' just tell the Judge, I don't care a rap, For him or his wig, or his dirty black cap, An' as for dragoons, thim paid men of slaughter, Just say that I love thim as the divil loves holy water. An' now my good mother, one word of advice : Fill your bag with pittatyes and whusky and rice, An' when you start from ould Ireland take passage at Cork An' come straight over to the town of New York, An' there ax the mayor the best way to go To the state of Cincinnati in the town of Ohio, For 'tis there you will find me without much tryin' At the Harp and the Eagle kept by Shamus O'Brien." Note. — The authorship of this poem is in doubt. It is sometimes credited to J. S. Le Fanu, hut usually to Samuel Lover. See Dublin University Magazine, July, 1850. POPULAR SUFFRAGE MADE SAFE BY EDUCATION. 123 POPULAK SUFFRAGE MADE SAFE BY EDU- CATION. We are apt to be deluded into false security by political catch-words, devised to flatter rather than instruct. We have happily escaped the dogma of the divine right of kings. Let us not fall into the equally pernicious error that mul- titude is divine because it is a multitude. The words of our great publicist, the late Dr. Lieber, whose faith in re- publican liberty was undoubted, should never be for- gotten. In discussing the doctrine of " Vox Populi, vox Dei" he said: " Woe to the country in which political hypocrisy first calls the people almighty, then teaches that the voice of the people is divine, then pretends to take a mere clamor for the true voice of the people, and lastly, gets up the desired clamor." This sentence ought to be read in every political caucus. It would make an interesting and significant preamble to most of our political platforms. It is only when the people speak truth and justice that their voice can be called "the voice of God." Our faith in the democratic principle rests upon the belief that intelligent men will see that their highest political good is in liberty, regulated by just and equal laws; and that in the distri- bution of political power it is safe to follow the maxim, " Each for all, and all for each." We confront the dan- gers of the suffrage by the blessings of universal educa- tion. We believe that the strength of the state is the ag- gregate strength of its individual citizens; and that the suffrage is the link, that binds in a bond of mutual inter- est and responsibility, the fortunes of the citizen to the fortunes of the state. Hence as popular suffrage is the broadest base; so, when coupled with intelligence and virtue it becomes the strongest, the most enduring base on which to build the superstructure of government. Our great hope for the future, — our great safe-guard against danger, — is to be found in the general and thorough education of our people, and in the virtue which accompanies such education. And all these ele- ments depend in a large measure upon the intellectual 124 scorer's successful recitations. and moral culture of the young men who go out from our various institutions of learning. From the standpoint of this general culture we may trustfully encounter the perils that assail us. Secure against dangers from abroad ; united at home by the strongest ties of common interest and patriotic pride; holding and unifying our vast terri- tory by the most potent forces of civilization ; relying up- on the intelligent strength and responsibility of each citizen, and most of all upon the power of truth, — with- out undue arrogance, we may hope that in the centuries to come, our Republic will continue to live, and hold its high place among nations as " The heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time." J. A. GARFIELD. AMERICAN EVOLUTION. The political mission of the United States has so far been wrought out by individuals and territorial conditions. Four men of unequal genius dominated our century, and the growth of the West has revolutionized the Republic, The principles which have heretofore controlled the policy of the country have mainly owed their force and acceptance to Hamilton, Jefferson, Webster and Lincoln. The two great creative contests of America were purely defensive. They were neither the struggles of dynastic ambitions nor of democratic revenges. They were calm and determined efforts for good government, and closed without rancor or the husbanding resources for retaliation. The Revolution was a war for the preservation of well-defined constitutional liberties, but dependent upon them were the industrial free- dom necessary for the development of the country, the promotion of manufactures, and independence of foreign producers. At this period, in every part of the world, the doctrine that the Government is the source of power and that the people have only such rights as the Government had given, was practically unquestioned, and the young Republic be- gan its existence with the new dynamic principle tliat the AMERICAN EVOLUTION. 125 people are the sole source of authority, and that the Gov- ernment has such powers as they grant to it and no others. For nearly fifty years the prevailing sentiment favored the idea that the Federal compact was a contract between sovereign States. Had the forces of disunion been ready for the arbitrament of arms, the results would have been fatal to the Union. That ablest observer of the American experiment, De Tocqueville, was so impressed by this that he based upon it an absolute prediction of the destruction of the Republic. But at the critical period when the popu- larity, courage and audacity of General Jackson were almost the sole hope of nationality, Webster delivered in the Senate a speech unequaled in the annals of eloquence for its immediate effects and lasting results. The appeals of Demosthenes to the Athenian democracy, the denuncia- tions of Cicero against the conspiracies of Cataline, the passionate outcries of Mirabeau pending the French Revo- lution, the warnings of Chatham in the British Parliament, the fervor of Patrick Henry for independence, were of tem- porary interest and yielded feeble results compared with the tremendous consequences of this mighty utterence. It broke the spell of supreme loyalty to the State and created an unquenchable and resistless patriotism for the United States. There is an intellectual awakening in this land, and its stimulants affect the well-being and safety of life and prop- erty and law. The teachers of disintegration, destruction and infidelity possess the activity of propagandists and the self-sacrificing spirit of martyrs. Their field is ignorance, their recruiting sergeants distress. Only faith grounded in knowledge can meet these dangerous, ceaseless and corrupt- ing influences. In the midst of these perils, the sheet- anchor of the Ship of State is the common school. Igno- rance judges the invisible by the visible. Turn on the lights. Teach first and last Americanism. Let no youth leave the school without being thoroughly grounded in the history, the principles and the incalculable blessings of American Liberty. Let the boys be the trained soldiers of constitu- tional freedom, and the girls the intelligent mothers of free- men. As the human race has moved along down the 126 scorer's successful recitations. centuries, the vigorous and ambitious, the dissenters from blind obedience and the original thinkers, the colonists and State builders, have broken camp with the morning, and followed the sun until the close of clay. They have tarried for ages in fertile valleys and beside great streams ; they have been retarded by barriers of mountains and seas beyond their present resources to overcome ; but as the family grew into the tribe, the tribe into the nation, and equal authority into the despotism of courts and creeds, those who possessed the indomitable and uncon- querable spirit of freedom, have seen the promise flashed from the clouds in the glorious rays of the sinking orb of day, and first with despair and courage, and then with courage and hope, and lastly with faith and prayer, they have marched westward. In the purification and trials of wandering and settlement they have left behind narrow and degrading laws, traditions, customs and castes, until now, as the Occident faces the Orient across the Pacific and the globe is circled, at the last stop and in their per- manent home the individual is the basis of government, and all men are equal before the law. The glorious ex- ample of the triumphant success of the people governing themselves fans the feeble spirit of the effete and ex- hausted Asiatic with the possibilities of the replanting of the Garden of Eden and the restoration of the historic grandeur of the birth-place of mankind. CHAUNCEY M. DEPEW. THE TEAGI-COMEDY OF LIFE. " The world is a stage, men and women are the play- ers; Chance composes the piece, Fortune distributes the parts; the fools shift the scenery; the philosophers are the spectators ; the rich occupy the boxes; the powerful the orchestra ; and the poor the gallery. The Forsaken of Lady Fortune snuff the candles, Folly makes the con- cert, and Time drops the curtain. — Such is the tragi- comedy of life. HULLO. 127 HULLO. Permission of the "Yankee Blade." ? ?» Wen you see a man in woe, Walk right up and say " Hullo Say t4 Hullo " and " How d'ye do? How's the world a-usin' 3^ou?" Slap the fellow on the back ; Bring your hand down with a whack; Walk right up, and don't go slow; Grin an' shake, an' say " Hullo ! " Is he clothed in rags? Oh»! sho ; Walk right up an' say "Hullo ! " Hags is but a cotton roll Jest for wrappin' up a soul ; An' a soul is worth a true Hale and hearty " How d'ye do? " Don't wait for the crowd to go, Walk right up and say ; * Hullo ! " When big vessels meet, they say They saloot an' sail away. Jest the same are you an' me Lonesome ships upon a sea; Each one sailin' his own log, For a port behind the fog. Let your speakin' trumpet blow ; Lift your horn an' cry " Hullo ! " Say "Hollo ! " an' " How d'ye do? " Other folks are good as you. W'en you leave your house of clay Wanderin' in the far away, W'en you travel through the strange Country t'other side the range, Then the souls you've cheered will know Who ye be, an' say u Hullo." S. W. FOSS. 128 scorer's successful recitations. THE OKTHOD-OX TEAM. "Hold on, stranger! Turn out yonder close to the Avail! For the road's rather narrow and I've got it all ! Whoa, back, haw there, old Baptist ! Whoa, Methodist, whoa ! These are oxen that need all the road, you must know. Yes, I drive without swearin', though strange it may seem, For I'm drivin', good stranger, my orthod-ox team ! " Said the lumberman of Calaveras. " That Episcopal ox is of excellent breed. He's more noted for style than he is for his speed. Though of delicate structure, this ox will not shirk, But he never was known, sir, to sweat at his work. He's a good, pious ox, never losin' his way, For he reads all the signboards and goes not astray ! " Said the lumberman of Calaveras. " There's the good Baptist ox ; he's hard shell to the bone; Close communion in diet — he eats all alone ! Shakes his head when it's raining and closes his eyes ; He hates to be sprinkled, though it comes from the skies ! Why he won't cross a bridge unless dragged by the team ! He'll go nowhere, I swon, but clown into the stream ! " Said the lumberman of Calaveras. ^ Presbyterian, gee! Congregational, haw! They're good stock, let me tell you, and know how to draw ! They're so perfectly matched, sir, that very few folk Can tell 'em apart when they're out of the yoke ! But you see a slight difference when it is shown : One leans on his elders and one stands alone! " Said the lumberman of Calaveras. " There's an ox I term Israel, oldest of all; Once he grazed in the garden before Adam's fall ; He went into the Ark at the time of the flood, And when Pharaoh starved he was chewin' his cud ! There's an ancestry, sir, full of glory, no doubt, But for goring the Master they're scattered about ! " Said the lumberman of Calaveras. THE ORTHOD-OX TEAM. 129 u I've an ox over there who tends strictly to ; biz ! ' He's the Catholic ox ; what a monster he is ! And he keeps growin' big, while he keeps. growin' old! And he never lets go where he once gets a hold ! He's a strong one, yon bet! why I never yet spoke But he started right off, with his neck in the yoke! " Said the lumberman of Calaveras. u There's old Methodist, one of the best on the road ! You'd suppose, by the fuss, he alone dragged the load! How he pulls when I sing hallelujah and shout; But the worst of it, he keeps changin' about! He was bought on probation, and he works like a top ; But I've had him three years, and suppose I must swop ! Said the lumberman of Calaveras. " That suave Universalist many admire Think's the devil's a myth with his great prairie lire ! There's an Adventist claimin' to have second sight ; If he keeps on a guessin' he'll guess the thing right ! And the Seventh Day Baptist— their numbers are such If they do break the Sabbath they don't break it much ! " Said the lumberman of Calaveras. "Got a Spiritist? Yes. sir; I bought one by chance; When it comes to hard work he goes off in a trance ! Nothin' practical, sir, in a medium ox When you have to keep proddin' with rappin's and knocks ! But I must keep movin' and ploddin' along With my orthod-ox team, or the world will go wrong ! " Said the lumberman of Calaveras. "Take the road that I came, and beware of short cuts ! You will not lose the way if you follow the ruts. I am sorry to force you, my friend, to turn out; But this is the regular lumberman's route ! On the road of life, stranger, my right is supreme; All the world must turn out for my Orthod-ox team !" Said the lumberman of Calaveras. FRED EMERSON BROOKS. 130 scorer's successful recitations. CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON. There are but three individuals upon whom mankind, with some approach to general consent, have bestowed the epithet of "the Great." Shall we compare our Washington for a moment with each of them ? Shall we compare him with Peter the Great of Russia, who flour- ished in the beginning of the century, and hewed that political colossus of the North into form and sym- metry? A sovereign of vast, though often most ill- directed energy; a fearless, and, on some occasions, a beneficent reformer ; a consummate organizer, who with a kind of rough tact, truly felt the pulses of national life in the Titanic frame which he called into being ; pursu- ing a few grand ideas, though often by eccentric methods bordering on madness, but with a resolution which no labors could weary and no dangers appall, and forcing them with an iron will upon an unsympathizing and apa- thetic people. These are his titles to the epithet of "Great" ; but with them all he was an unmitigated tyrant, — the murderer, perhaps the torturer, of his own son ; a man who united the wisdom of a philosopher and the policy of a great prince with the tastes of a satyr, the manners of a barbarian, and the passions of a fiend; guilty of crimes so hideous and revolting, that if I at- tempted to describe them, I should drive you shrieking from this hall. You surely would not permit me to place the name of Washington in comparison with his. Or shall we compare him with Frederick the Second of Prussia, to whom complacent public opinion has also ac- corded the epithet of "Great." He was no doubt a mili- tary and a civil genius of the first order; by the energy of his character he built up a kingdom scarcely known by that title when he came to the throne, into a first-rate power; the fearless soldier, the profound strategist, the heroic chief; nor less a master of political combination, a zealous promoter of the material prosperity of his sub- jects, who doubled the population of his little kingdom, and increased all the resources in more than the same proportion, notwithstanding the wars in which he was continually involved ; but at the same time a pedant, os- CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON. 131 tentatious, of superficial literary attainments, a wretched poetaster, a dupe of the insipid adulation of godless foreign wits, who flattered him to his face and ridiculed him be- hind his back; a German sovereign who yet preferred to write and speak poor broken French, in which Voltaire said there was not a sentence which you would not know to be the language of a foreigner; a prince raised by Providence in the bitter school of adversity to an absolute throne, entertaining the most exalted ideas of the Kingly prerogative, drawing everything, even the ad- ministration of justice, into an arbitrary centralization, who had yet trained his undevout heart to believe that blind chance or blind destiny occupies the throne of the universe; that the heavens and the earth could do with- out a God, though the paltry electorate of Brandenburgh could not do without a king; and that while it w^as im- possible for him to hold the scattered provinces of his lit- tle realm together without a daily outgoing of civil, mili- tary, and judicial power, moved by one intellect and one will, could yet believe that the systems and systems which compose the universe, beyond the power of human speech to enumerate, or human thought to conceive, are thrown out into one vast anarchy, wheeling and hurtling through the regions of space without a lawgiver and without a head. Or shall we compare Washington with the third greatness of his age, the illustrious captain of the last generation in France; that portentous blazing star which began to flame in the eastern sky as our benignant lumin- ary was sinking in the west, amidst the golden clouds of a nation's blessings? I have no wish to trample on the memory of Napoleon the First, wiiom I regard by no means as the most ambitious of conquerors, the most arbi- trary of despots, or the worst of men. The virtues and the feelings, like the talents, the opportunities, and the fortunes of this extraordinary man, are on too colossal a scale to be measured by ordinary standards of morality. The prevalent opinions in this country of his character and career have come to us through a British medium, discolored by a national prejudice and the deadly strug- gle of a generation ; or by natural reaction have been 132 scorer's successful recitations. founded on the panegyrics of grateful adherents and ad- miring subjects, who deem every Frenchman a partner in the glory of their chief. Posterity and impartial history will subdue the lights and relieve the shadows of the pic- ture. They will accord to him a high, perhaps the high- est, rank among the great masters of war, placing his name upon an equality with the three great captains of antiquity, if not above them ; will point to his code as a noble monument of legislative wisdom ; will dwell upon the creative vigor with which he brought order out of the chaos of the Eevolution, retrieving the dilapidated finan- ces and restoring the prostrate industry of France ; will enumerate the harbors, the canals, the bridges, the public buildings, the Alpine roads, the libraries, the museums, and all the thousand works of industrious peace and pro- ductive art ; will not withhold their admiration for the giant grasp of his genius and the imperial grandeur of his fortunes, nor deny a tribute of human sympathy to his calamitous decline and fall. But the same impartial history will record more than one ineffaceable stain upon his character, and never, to the end of time, never on the page of historian, poet or philosopher; never till a taste for true moral greatness is eaten out of the hearts of men by a mean admiration of success and power ; never in the exhortations of the prudent magistrate counseling his fellow-citizens for their good ; never in the dark ages of national fortune, when anxious patriots explore the an- nals of the past for examples of public virtue ; never in the admonition of the parent forming the minds of his children by lessons of fireside wisdom ; never, O never, will the name of Napoleon, nor any of the other of the famous conquerors of ancient and modern days, be placed upon a level with Washington's. EDWARD EVERETT. LAUGHING ENCOKE. ( Imagine you have just seen something too funny to tell. ) Ha! ha! ha! he! he! he! ho! ho! ho! haw! haw! haw! [Speaker still laughing) Well, sir, you just ought to have seen him, — he-e-e, he ! he ! he ! — well he-e-e-ha ! ha ! ha £ ho! ho! ho! (Laughing heartily, bending over, hands on sides.) THE GRAND ARMY BADGE. 133 THE GRAXD ARMY BADGE. Hold on ! Hold on ! My Goodness, you take my breath, my son, A-firin' questions at me, like shots from a Gatlin' Gun — Why do I wear this eagle an' flag an' brazen star, An' why do my old eyes glisten when somebody men- tions war? An' why do I call men "comrade," and why do my eyes grow bright, When you hear me tell your grandma I'm going to post to-night ? Come here, you inquisitive rascal, and set on your grand- pa's knee, An' I'll try an' answer the broadside you've been a-firin' at me. Away back in the sixties, an' long afore you were born, The news came a-flashin' to us, one bright an' sunny morn, That some of our Southern brothers, a-thinkin', no doubt, 'twar right, Had trailed their guns on our banner, an' opened a nasty fight. The great big guns war a booming, an' the shot flyin' thick an' fast, An' troops all over the southland war rapidly bein' massed, An' a thrill went through the nation, a fear that our glo- rious land Might be split an' divided an' ruined by a mistaken brother's hand. Lord! but wa'n't there excitement an' didn't the boys' eyes flash ? An' didn't we curse our brothers fur bein' so foolish an' rash ? An' didn't we raise the neighbors with loud an' con- tinued cheers, When Abe sent out a dockyment a-callin' fur volunteers? i 134 scorer's successful recitations. An' didn't we flock to the colors when the drums began to beat? An' didn't we march with a proud step along this village street ? An' didn't the people cheer us when we got aboard the cars, With the flag a-wavm' o'er us, and went away to the wars ? I'll never forgit your grandma as she stood outside o' the train, Her face was as white as the snowdrift, her tears a-fallin' like rain — She stood there quiet an' deathlike, 'mid all the rush an' noise, For the war war a-takin' from her her husband an' three brave boys — Bill, Charley, and little Tommy — just turned eighteen, but as true An' gallant a little soldier as ever wore the blue. It seemed almost like murder, too, for to tear her poor heart so, But your grandpa couldn't stay, baby, and the boys war determined to go. The evening afore we started she called the boys to her side, An' told 'em as how they war always their mother's joy an' pride, An' though her soul was in torture, an' her poor heart bleedin' and sore, An' though she needed her darlings, their country needed 'em more. She told 'em to do their duty wherever their feet might roam, An' to never forgit in battle their mother war praying at home. An' if (an' the tears nigh choked her) they should fall in front o' the foe, She'd go to her Blessed Saviour an' ax Him to lighten the blow. THE GRAND ARMY BADGE. 135 Bill lays an' awaits the summons 'neathSpottsylvania sod, An' on the field of Antietam Charlie's spirit went back to - God ; An' Tommy, our baby Tommy, we buried one starlight night Along with his fallen comrades, just after the Wilderness fight. The lightning struck our family tree, an' stripped it of every limb, A-leavin' only this bare old trunk, a-standin' alone an' grim. ^Iy D °y> that's why your grandma, when you kneel to the God you love, Makes you ax Him to watch your uncles, an make 'em happy above. That's why you sometimes see her with tear-drops in her eyes ; That's why you sometimes catch her a-tryin' to hide her sighs ; That's why at our great reunions, she looks so solemn and sad ; That's why her heart seems a-breakin' when the boys are so jolly and glad; That's why you sometimes find her in the bedroom over- head, Down on her knees a-prayin', with their pictures laid out on the bed, That's why the old-time brightness will light up her face no more, Till she meets her hero warriors in the camp on the other shore. An' when the great war was over, back came the veterans true, With not one star a-missin' from the azure field of blue; An' the boys who on the field o' battle had stood the fiery, test, Formed posts of the great Grand Army in the ^North, South, East an' West. 136 scorer's successfui RECITATIONS. Fraternity, Charity, Loyalty, is the motto 'neath which they train — Their object to care for the helpless, an' banish sorrow an' pain From the homes o' the widows an' orphans o' the boys who have gone before, To answer their names at roll-call in that great Grand Army Corps. An' that's why we wear these badges, the eagle an' flag an' star, Worn only by veteran heroes who fought in that bloody war; An' that's why my old eyes glisten while talkin' about the fray, An' that's why I call men " comrade" when I meet 'em every day ; An' that's why I tell your grandma, "I'm going to post to-night," For there's where I meet the old boys who stood with me in the fight, And, my child, that's why I've taught you to love and revere these men Who come here a-wearin' badges to fight those battles again. They are the gallant heroes who stood 'mid the shot and the shell, An' follered the fly in' colors right into the mouth o' hell — They are the men whose valor saved the land from dis- grace and shame, An' lifted her back in triumph to her perch on the dome of fame; An' as long as you live, my darling, till your pale lips in death are mute, When you see that badge on a bosom, take off your hat an' salute; An' if any ol' vet should halt you an' question why you do, Just tell him you've got a right to, fur your grandad's a comrade, too. CAPT. JACK CRAWFORD, THE POET SCOUT. 137 BILL MASON'S BKIDE. ( As altered and recited "by Mr. Scorer. ) Its a most train time, sir, its a most train time, an' a fearful dark time, too. S-a-y, just take a look at the switch lights, Tom, an' bring in a stick when you're through. "Eh, on time?" W-e-11, y-e-s, I guess so — left the last station all right. She'll come round the curve a flyin', Bill Mason comes up to-night. Say, d'you know Bill? Whew! Don't know Bill Mason ! Why he's an engineer, been on the road all his life. I'll never forget the mornin' he married his chunk of a wife. 'Twas the summer the mill hands struck, just off work, every one. They kicked up a row in the village an' killed old — Donovan's son. Bill hadn't been married mor'n an hour, when down comes a message from Kress, orderin' Bill to go up thar, an' bring down the night express. He left his gal in a hurry an' went up on number one, thinking of nothing but Amy, an' the train he had to run. An' Amy sat down by the window to wait for the night express; an', sir, if she hadn't a done so, she'd a been a widow, I guess. It must a' been nigh midnight w T hen the mill hands left the bridge, They came dowm — the drunken devils ! an' tore up a rail from the bridge. But Amy, God bless 'er, heard 'em a w^orkin' an' guessed thar was something wrong, an' in less than fifteen minutes, Bill's train w T ould be along. Well she couldn't come down here to tell us, mor'n a mile — it wouldn't a done, sir — it wouldn't a done; so she just grabbed up a lantern, an' struck out fer the bridge alone. An' down came the night express, sir, an' Bill w T as makin' 'er climb! but Amy held the lantern, a swingin' it all the time. Well ! By Jove, sir ! Bill saw the signal, an' he stopped the night express, an' he found his Amy cryin', cryin' on the track in her weddin' dress ; cryin' an' laughin' for joy, sir, an ; holdin' on to the light — hello! here's the train — well, good bye, sir, good bye, Bill Mason's on time to- night. BRET HARTE. 138 scorer's successful recitations EVEK SO FAE AWAY.— Yon Boyle. By Special Permission of the Author. There are two very funny fellows in this city : 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. "Dinglebender, 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! Yhen 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 friend ts vould tink some- how 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 ! " "Thanks. Well this is how the matter stands. I engaged a magician, you know, to give our Sunday-school an enter- tainment, this evening, and the gentleman met with an acci- dent while practicing some trick. 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 ? " "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 I'll promise not to make fun of you any more. Will you address the children for me?" "Yes, 1 vill do de pest vot I can." Mr. Dingelbender was as good as his word. In half an hour he was at the chapel, confronting a large and enthusiastic audience. Rising to the importance of the occasion, he said : "Mrs. Ladies und shentlemans — und shildrens — esbeci- ally de shildrens : EVER SO FAR AWAY. 139 "I tink on such occasions like dhis ve should recomember dot men und vomens vas only Children 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-morrow. Efery goodt man has shtill some- ting of de poy apout him, und efery true poy has someting of de man apout him ; und all great mens dhey lofe shildrens. T 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 puttons all ofer me, und copper door-blates on de frond t of mine shoes to keep mine toes inside. UnoJ. 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 siloer, Vot care I for haus und landt? Vot care I for sniffs in de ocean — All vot I vant vas a nice yunk man. Und I vas her nice yunk man dot time. '•'Yell ve poys had also a song. Yot you call dot song now, vhere you put your handts up dhis vay? [indicating.] Oh, I know now, it's [sings.] 'London pridge vas purning up, purning up, purning up.' Dot's it. Yell, 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." "Yell, de odher tay I vas sidding by mine open vindow. 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 shildrens, und de shildrens vas full mit choy, singing und playing dhem happy songs und games of shildhoodt. 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. It vas called "Ever So Far Away" und vas some- ting like dhis : 140 scorer's successful recitations My name it vas Fader Gander, Und I come vrom of er yonder Ofer de hills, past Shones's Mills — It vas efer so far avay. I came vrom a town in Yonderland, 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. Dhe 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. 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 ; Yhy, 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. 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, Yhy, 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. 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. Yhat efer you vant you make a vish, Und it's prought to you in a shina tish, EVER SO FAR AWAY. 141 A shlice of pie or a piece of fish — But it's efer so far avay. Xow 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 slitings, Und de shildren all blay mit ponies und sh wings, 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 voke oudt ; und it vas only a tream. But somehow I tink our pest treams vill all come true in dot 'Shweet pye und pye.' " THE STOEY OF BEX-HUE. The following synopsis of the Story of Ben-Hur will give reciters a clear understanding of the events preceding the famous Chariot Race, described on pages 364 to 376 of Ben-Hur. Explanation.— Bex-Hub is a young Jew of wealthy and noble parentage— a prince of Jerusalem. Mess ala is a Roman, proud, arrogant and ambitious. In childhood these two were close friends but in later years, by reason of Messala's jealous and unfriendly disposition, they became estranged, and finally enemies. As the Roman Procurator Gratus was passing through Judea with his legions, he was struck upon the head by a piece of tiling, accident- ally pushed from the roof of Hur's house by young Ben-Hur. Messala pointed out to the soldiers Ben-Hur, and charged that the missile was thrown with malicious irjient. Accordingly Ben-Hur was taken pris- oner by the Romans and made a galley-slave. His mother and sister were sent to prison, their property was confiscated, and divided be- tween Gratus and the informer Messala. After years of servitude Ben-Hur gained his liberty as a reward for his bravery and became the adopted son and heir of the wealthy Roman, Quintus Arrius, whose life he had saved during a sea-fight with pirates. He soon became famous in Rome as an athlete. Contemporaneously his opponent, Messala, had won fame and in- fluence as a charioteer in the Circus Maximus. The scene described in the selection is laid at Antioch (in the time of Christ's ministry), at the games in the Circus in honor of the Roman Consul Maxentius. Ben-Hur, filled with a desire for revenge, acts as charioteer for Ilderim, an Arab Sheik, with the earnest hope of winning the race and humbling the proud Messala in the presence of the multitude.— Editob. 142 scorer's successful recitations. ME AND JIM. We were both brought up in a country town, Was me an' Jim; An' the hull world somehow seemed ter frown On me an' him. At school we never was given a chance To larn that Africa wasn't in France, An' we both wore patches on our pants, Did me an'. Jim. But we grew up hearty, an' hale, an' strong, Did me an' Jim ; We knowed ev'ry note in a thrush's song, Did me an' him; An' we knowed whar the blue-birds built their nests When the spring tripped over the mountains' crests, Why the robbins all wore scarlet vests, Did me an' Jim. Then we fell in love, jest as most folks do, Did me an' Jim. We was arter the same gal, though, we two, That's me an' him ; An' she treated us jest alike, did she, When at quiltin' party or huskin'-bee; We was even up in the race, you see, Was me an' Jim. I popped at last, an she answered me " No; " Jim follered suit ; But she wouldn't hev him, an' told him so. Forbidden fruit We called her then, an' I'm afraid That we fumed a little. An' then we prayed That she'd live an' she'd die a plain old maid, Did me an' Jim. Then the war broke out, an' Company B Caught me an' Jim. We both of us fit fer the Union — see? Did me an' him. ME AND JIM. 143 An' we heerd the screechin' o' shot an' shell, The snarlin' o' guns, an' the rebel yell, An' follered the flag through the battle's hell, Did me an' Jim. 'Twas the day that we fit at Seven Oaks Death came to Jim, An' excuse me, please, but I sorter chokes Talkin' o' him. Fer his rugged brown hand I held in mine Till his soul passed out through the picket-line, Whar an angel waited, the countersign To git from Jim. Then I fit along till the war was done Without poor Jim ; Was given a sword instead of a gun, An' thought o' him. An' I wore an eagle when mustered out On my shoulder-straps, an' I faced about Fer the startin' p'int o' my hull life's route, But not wi' Jim. I was quite a man in that country place I'd left wi' Jim ; She gave me a smile wi' a blushin' face, An' asked 'bout him. So I told her how, as she sat 'longside, Like a soldier brave he had fought an' died, An' then — well, I kissed her because she cried — Kissed her fer Jim. Then I married her one bright day in June, Fer me an' Jim. Oft under the light o' the stars an' moon We talked o' him ; An' when our boy was wantin' a name, An' we thought our relatives through fer th' same, Then fresh again his memory came, 'IN" we called him Jim. CHICAGO TIMES. 144 scorer's successful recitations. JEKRY, THE NEWSBOY. " Buy a paper, plaze ! She is frozen a'most, Here's Commercial, and News, and Mail, And here's the Express, and the Averting Post, And ivery one has a tirrible tale — A shipwreck — a murther — a fire alarm — Whichiver ye loike — have a paper, marm ? Thin buy it, plaze, av this hit av a gurrul, She's new in the business, and all av a whirrul ; We must lind her a hand," said little Jerry, " There's a plinty av thrade at the Fulton Ferry. " She's wakely for nade av the tay and the toast — The price av a paper — plaze, sir, buy a Post? Thrue as me name it is Jeremiah, There's a foine report av a dridful fire, And a child that's lost, and a smash av a train ; Indade, sir, the paper's just groanin' wid pain ! Spake up, little gurrul, and don't be afraid. I'm schraichin' fo two till I start yez in thrade. While I yell, you can sell," said little Jerry, Screeching for two at Fulton Ferry. The night was bleak, the wind was high, And a hurrying crowd went shivering by : And some bought papers, and some bought none, But the boy's shrill voice rang cheerily on : " Buy a Post, or a News, or a Mail, as you choose, For my arm just aches wid weight av the news. Express? Not a single one left for to-night — But buy one av this little gurrul, sir — all right. She's a a reg'lar seller here at the ferry, And I rickomind her high," said Jerry. In the whirl of the throng there passed a man, " The bell is ringing, I cannot wait ; Here, girl, a Commercial, as quick as you can, The boat is starting — don't make me late." And on through the hurrying crowd he ran, JERRY, THE NEWSBOY. 145 The wee girl followed close behind, After the penny he could not find; While, with a spring through the closing gate, After her money bounded Jerry, Bagged and panting, at Fulton Ferry. "One cent from the man in the big fur coat! Give me the change, or I'll stop the boat." Up from the deck a laugh and a cheer, Ic changed to a shuddering cry of fear As he bent his head for the fearful spring, And then — like a wild bird on the wing — Over the whirling waters swung, Touching the boat with his hands and clung, Gasping and white, to the rail, and cried : " Where is that mean old man, who tried To steal one cent from a girl at the ferry, — A poor little girl, with no friend but Jerry? " Over the side went a hundred hands, From a hundred mouths rang forth commands : " Pull him in! " " Stop the boat! " " Take his stock!" " Let us buy All the papers he has!" "Send him home to get dry!" "]STo,indade," said the boy — "that's not w'at I meant; I don't want yer money ; I want that one cent From the man in the warr'm fur coat an' hat, Who could steal a cent from a poor gurrul like that. Af iver he tries that game agin, He'd better take me, and not Margery Flynn ! " Then cheer on cheer for little Jerry Eang across the Fulton Ferry. MARY LOWE DICKINSON, HAD BEEX DIPPED. The Village Pastor — Johnny, you tell me you have been to Sunday School ? The Bad Boy — Yes, sir. The Village Pastor, (with a suspicious glance at the river) — But, Johnny, your hair is wet. The Bad Boy — Yes, sir, it's a Baptist Sunday School. 146 scorer's successful recitations. AUNTY PAKSOXS'S MISSION STORY. ( Especiall7 for Missionary Meetings, Churches, and Sunday Schools. ) I told Hezekiah — that's my man. People mostly call him Deacon Parsons, but he never gets any deaconing from me. We were married— " Hezekiah and Amariah " — that's going on forty years ago, and he's jest Hezekiah to me, and nothin' more. Well, as I was saying, says I: " Hezekiah, we aren't right. I am sure of it." And he said: "Of course not. We are poor sinners, Amy; all poor sinners." And I said : " Hezekiah, this 'poor sinner' talk has gone on long enough. I suppose we are poor sinners, but I don't see any use of being mean sinners ; and there's one thing I think is real mean." It was jest after breakfast; and, as he felt poorly, he hedn't gone to the shop yet; and so I had this little talk with him to sort o' chirk him up. He knew what I was was comin' to, for we hed had the subject up before. It was our little church. He always said: "The poor people, and what should we ever do?" And I always said: " We never shall do nothin' unless we try." And so when I brought the matter up in this way, he just be- gan bitin' his toothpick, and said: "What's up now? Who's mean ? Amariah, we oughtn't to speak evil of one another." Hezekiah always says "poor sinners,'" and doesn't seem to mind it, but when I occasionally say "mean sinners" he somehow gits oneasy. But I was started, and I meant to free my mind. So I said, says I: "I was goin' to confess our sins. Dan'l confessed for all his people, and I was confessin' for all our little church. " Truth is," says I, " ours is alius called one of the 1 feeble churches,' and I am tired about it. I've raised seven children, and at fourteen months old every boy and girl of 'em could run alone. And our church is fourteen years old," says I, " and it can't take a step yet without somebody to hold on by. The Board helps us and General Jones, good man, he helps us — helps too much, I think — and so we live along, but we don't seem to get strong. AUNTY PARSONS'S MISSION STORY. 147 Our people draw their rations every year as the Indians do up at the agency; and it doesn't seem sometimes as if they ever thought of doing anything else." " They take it so easy," I said. " That's what wor- ries me. I don't suppose we coul'd pay all expenses, but we might act as if we wanted to, and as if we meant to do all we can." "I read," says I, "last week about the debt of the Board, and this week, as I understand," says I, "our appli- cation is going in for another year, and no particular effort to do any better, and it frets me. I can't sleep nights, and I can't take comfort Sundays. I've got to feelin' as if we were a kind of perpetual paupers. And that was what I meant when I said : 'It is real mean V I suppose I said it a little sharp," says I, "but I'd rather be sharp than flat any day, and if we don't begin to stir ourselves w r e shall be flat enough before loug, and shall deserve to be. It grows on me. It has jest been ' Board, Board, Board,' for fourteen years, and I'm tired of it. I never did like boardin'," says I; "and, even if we were poor, I believe we might do something toward settin' up house-keepin' for ourselves." "Well, there's not many of us; about a hundred, I believe, and some of these is women folks, and some is jest girls and boys. And we all have to work hard and live close; but," says I, "let us show a disposition if nothin' more. Hezekiah, if there's any spirit left in us, let us show some sort of a disposition." And Hezekiah had his toothpick in his teeth, and looked down at his boots and rubbed his chin, as he always does when he's goin' to say somethin'. " I think there's some of us that shows a disposition." Of course I understand that hit, but I kep' still. I kep' right on with my argument, and I said : " Yes, and a pretty bad disposition it is. It's a disposition to let our- selves be helped when we ought to be helping ourselves. It's a disposition to lie still and let somebody carry us. And we are growing up cripples only we don't grow. " 'Kiah," says I, "do you hear me?" Sometimes when I want to talk a little he jest shets his eyes, and be- gins to rock himself back and forth in the old arm-chair, 148 scorer's successful recitations. and he was doin' that now. So I said: " 'Kiah, do you hear?" And he said: "Some!" and then I went on. " I've got a proposition," says I. And he sort o' looked up, and said: " Hev you? Well, between a disposition and a proposition, I guess the proposition might be better." He's awful sarcrostic, sometimes. But I wasn't goin' to get riled, nor thrown off the track; so I jest said: "Yes; do you and I git two shillin's worth a piece a week out o' that blessed little church of ourn, do you think?" says I. "Cos, if we do, I want to give two shillings a week to keep it goin', and I thought maybe you could do as much." So he said he guessed we could stand that, and I said: "That's my proposition; and I mean to see if we can't find somebody else that'll do the same. It'll show a disposition, anyway." " Well, I suppose you'll hev your own way," says he ; "you most always do." And I said i " Isn't it most allers a good way ?' ' Then I brought out my Subscription Paper. I had it all ready. I didn't jest know how to shape it, but I knew it was something about " the sums set oppo- site our names," and so I drawed it up, and took my chances. " You must head it," says I, " because you're the oldest deacon, and I must go on next because I am the deacon's wife, and then I'll see some of the rest of the folks." So 'Kiah sot down, and put on his specs, an took his pen but did not write. "What's the matter?" says I. And he said: "I'm sort o' shamed to subscribe two shil- lin's. I never signed so little as that for anything. I used to give more than that to the circus when I was nochin' but a boy, and I ought to do more than that to support the Gospel. Two shillin' a week! Why, its only a shillin' a sermon, and all the prayer-meetin's throwed in. I can't go less than fifty cents, I am sure." So down he went for fifty cents, and then I signed for a quarter, and then my sun-bonnet went onto my head pretty lively, and I started. I called on the Smith family first. I felt sure of them. And they were just happy, Mr. Smith signed, and so did Mrs. Smith; and long John, he came in while we were AUNTY PARSONS'S MISSION STORY. 14 ( .) tal kin', and put his name down; and then old Grandma Smith, she didn't want to be left out; so there was four of 'em. I've allers found it a great thing in any good en- terprise to enlist the Smith family. There's a good many of 'em. Next, I called on the Joslyns, and next, on the Chapins, and then on the Widdie Chad wick, and so I kept on. I met a little trouble once or twice, but not much. There was Fussy Furber, and bein' trustee he thought I w ? as out of my spear, he said ; and he wanted it understood that such work belonged to the trustees. "To be sure," says I, " I'm glad I've found it out. I wish the trustees had discovered that a lettle sooner." Then there was sister Puffy, that's got the asthma. She thought we ought to be lookin' after " the sperritooalities." She said we must get down before the Lord. She didn't think churches could be run on money. But I told her I guessed we should be jest as spiritual to look into our pocketbooks a little, and I said it was shame to be 'tar- nally beggin' so of the Board. She looked dredful solemn when I said that, and I al- most felt as I'd been committin' profane language. But I hope the Lord will forgive me if I took anything in vain. I did not take my call in vain, I tell you. Mrs. Puffy is good, only she alius wanted to talk so pious ; and she put v down her two shillin's, and then hove a sigh. Then I found the boys at the cooper shop, and got seven names there at one lick ; and when the list began to grow people seemed ashamed to say no, and I kept gainin' till I had jest an even hundred, and then I went home. Well, it was pretty well towards candle light when I got back, and I was that tired, I didn't know much of anything. I've washed, and I've scrubbed, and I've baked, and I've cleaned house, and I've biled soap, and I've moved ; and I 'low that a'most any one of that sort of thing is a little exhaustin'. But put your bakin' and movin' and bilin' soap all together, and it won't work out as much genuine tired soul and body as one day with a subscription paper to support the Gospel. So w T hen I sort o' dropped into a chair, and Hezekiah said, " Well?" I was past speakin' and I put my check apron up to my 150 scorer's successful recitations. face as I hadn't done since I was a young, foolish girl, and cried. I don't know what I felt so bad about, I don't know as I did feel bad. But I felt cry, and I cried. And 'Kiah, seein' how it was, felt kind o' sorry for me, and set some tea a steepin', and when I had my drink with weepin', I felt better. I handed him the subscription paper, and he looked it over as if he didn't expect anything; but soon he began saying, "I never! I never ! ;> And I said, "Of course you didn't; you never tried. How much is it? " "Why, don't you know? " says he. " No," I said, "I ain't quick in figures, and I hadn't time to foot it up. I hope it will make us out this year three hundred dollars or so." "Amy," says he, " you're a prodigy — a prodigal, I may say — and you don't know it. A hundred names at two shillin' each gives us $25 a Sunday. Some of 'em may fail, but most of 'em is good; and there is ten, eleven, thirteen, that sign fifty cents. That'll makeup what fails. That paper of yourn'll give us thirteen hun- dred dollars a year!" I jumped up like I was shot. " Yes," he says, "we shan't need anything this year from the Board. This church, for this year at any rate, is self- supporting." We both sot down and kep' still a minute, when I said kind o' softly : "Hezekiah," says I, " isn't it about time for prayers; I was just chokin', but as he took down the Bible he said : " I guess we'd had better sing somethin'." I nodded like, and he just struck in. We often sing at prayers in the morning: but now it seemed like the Scripter that says: " He giveth songs in the night." 'Kiah generally likes the solemn tunes, too; and we sing "Show pity Lord," a great deal; and this mornin' we had sung "Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound," 'cause 'Kiah was not feelin' very well, and we wanted to chirk up a little. So I just waited to see what meter he'd strike to- night; and would you believe it? I didn't know that he knew any sech tune. But off he started on "Joy to the world, the Lord is come." I tried to catch on, but he went off, lickerty-switch like a steam-engine, and I couldn't keep up. I was partly laughin' to see 'Kiah go mammy's li'l' boy. 151 it, and partly crying again, my heart was so full; so 1 doubled up some of the notes and jumped over the others, and so we safely reached the end. But I tell you, Hezekiah prayed. He allers prays well, but this was a bran' new prayer, exactly suited to the occasion. And when Sunday come, and the minister got up and told what had been done, and said : " It is all the work of one good woman, and done in one day," I just got scared and wanted to run. And when some of the folks shook hands with me, after meetin', and said, with tears in their eyes, how I'd saved the church, and all that, I came awful nigh gettin' proud. But, as Hezekiah says, i( we're all poor sinners," and so I choked it back. But, I am glad I did it; and I don't believe our church will ever go boarding any more. PRESBYTERIAN JOURNAL. MAMMY'S LI'L' BOY. This recitation, is greatly improved by singing or rather crooning the stanza beginning " Byo baby boy,'' as one would sing it when try- iDg to hush a child to sleep, suiting action to the words. — Editor. Who all time dodgin' en de cott'n en de corn ? Mammy's li'l' 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 li'l' boy ! Oh, run ter es mammy En she tek 'im in 'er arms, Mammy's li'l' baby boy. Who all time runnin' ole gobble roun' de yard? Mammy's li'l' boy, mammy's li'l' boy ! Who tek 'e stick 'n hit ole possum dog so hard? Mammy's li'l' baby boy. 152 scorer's successful recitations. Byo baby boy, oh bye, By-o li'P boy ! Oh, run ter es mammy En climb up en 'er lap, Mammy's li'P baby boy. Who all time stumpin' es toe ergin er rock? Mammy's li'P boy, mammy's li'P boy ! Who all de time er-rippin' big hole en es frock? Mammy's li'P baby boy. Byo baby boy, oh bye, By-o li'P boy ! Oh, run ter es mammy En she wipe es li'P eyes, Mammy's li'P baby boy. Who all time er-losin' de shovel en de rake ? Mammy's li'P boy, mammy's li'P boy ! Who all de time tryin' ter ride 'e lazy drake? Mammy's li'P baby boy. Byo baby boy, oh bye, By-o li'P boy ! Oh, scoot fer yer mammy En she hide yer Pom yer ma, Mammy's liT baby boy. Who all de time er-trottin' ter de kitchen fer er bite? Mammy's li'P boy, mammy's li'P boy! Who mess 'esef wi' taters twell his clothes dey look er Mammy's li'P baby boy. [sight? Byo baby boy, oh bye, By-o li'P boy! En 'e run ter es mammy Fer ter git 'im out er trouble, Mammy's li'P baby boy. Who all time er-frettin' en de middle er de day? Mammy's li'P boy, mammy's li'P boy ! don't cry. 153 Who all time er-gettin' so sleepy 'e can't play? Mammy's li'l' baby boy. Byo baby boy, oh bye, By-o li'P boy ! En 'e come ter es mammy Ter rock 'im en 'er arms, Mammy's li'l' baby boy. Shoo, shoo, shoo-shoo-shoo, Shoo, shoo, shoo ! Shoo, shoo, shoo-shoo-shoo, Shoo, li'l' 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! .... (End here. Keserve following for encore.) Look hyah, nigger, go way f'om dat do' ! You wake dis chile up wid dat Jew's-harp, en I'll wear yer out ter frazzles !— Sh-h-h-h— . H. S. EDWARDS : DELS ARTE RECITATION BOOK. DOX'T CRY! There ! little girl ; don't cry ! They have broken your doll I know ; And your tea-set blue And your play-house, too, Are things of the long ago; But childish troubles will soon pass by- There ! little girl ; don't cry ! There! little girl; don't cry! They have broken your slate, I know; And the glad wild ways Of your school-girl days 154 scorer's successful recitations. Are things of the long ago; But life and love will soon come by — There ! little girl ; don't cry ! There ! little girl ; don't cry! They have broken your heart, I know; And the rainbow gleams Of your youthful dreams Are things of the long ago; But heaven holds all for which you sigh — There! little girl; don't cry. JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY, THE BOBOLINK. Once, on a golden afternoon, With radiant faces and hearts in tune, Two fond lovers in dreaming mood, Threaded a rural solitude. Wholly happy, they only knew That the earth was bright and the sky was blue, That light and beauty and joy and song Charmed the way as they passed along; The air was fragrant with woodland scents ; The squirrel frisked on the roadside fence; And hovering near them, " Chee, chee, chink? " Queried the curious bobolink; Pausing and peering with sidelong head, As saucily questioning all they said ; While the ox-eye danced on its slender stem, And all glad nature rejoiced with them. Over the odorous fields were strown Wilting winrows of grass new mown. And rosy billows of clover bloom Surged in the sunshine and breathed perfume. Swinging low on a slender limb, The sparrow warbled his wedding hymn, And balancing on a blackberry briar, The bobolink sung with his heart on fire — THE BOBOLINK. 155 "Chink! If you wish to kiss her, do! Do it ! Do it ! You coward, you ! Kiss her ! kiss her ! Who will see ? Only we three ! we three ! we three ! Ch-wee! ch-wee! ch-wee!" Past tender garlands of drooping vines, Through dim vistas of sweet-breathed pines, Past wide meadow fields, lately mowed, Wandered the indolent country road. The lovers followed it, listening still, And loitering slowly, as lovers will, And entered a gray-roofed bridge that lay Dusk and cool in their pleasant way. Fluttering lightly from brink to brink, Followed the garrulous bobolink, Rallying loudly with mirthful din, The pair who lingered unseen within. " Bob-ol-link ! Bob-ol-link! Splink, Splank, Splink! Kiss her ! kiss her ! chee ! chee ! chee ! I'll not mention it ! don't mind me ! Do it ! do it ! ch-wee, ch-wee, ch-wee ! " And when from the friendly bridge at last Into the road beyond they passed, Again beside them the tempter went, Keeping the thread of his argument — Kiss her I kiss her ! chink-a-chee-chee ? I'll not mention it ! Don't mind me ! " But ah ! they noted — nor deemed it strange — In his rollicking chorus a trifling change — " Do it ! do it ? " — with might and main Warbled the tell tale— " Do it again ! " THE ALDINE. rtf THE ORCHARD. Sentimental Youth. — How the trees are moaning and sighing to-day. Practical Maiden. — Well, I guess you would moan and sigh if you were as full of green apples as they are. 156 scorer's successful recitations. THE THREE STUTTERERS. Three gentlemen, each of whom was a confirmed stut- terer, went into a restaurant for oysters. It was agreed that each one was to give the order and the one who stut- tered most on the word three was to pay the bill. First Stutterer.— " S-a-y waiter, 1-1-let us h-h-ve th- th-ree stews. Second Stutterer. — " W-w-aiter g-g-ive us th-th-th- stews." Third Stutterer (whistling stutterer). — " M-m-r. W- waiter, g-g-give us . W-w- waiter g-g-give us Oh h-h-hang it, t-t-two s-s-stews and another one. KILL A FIDDLER. A prima donna was on the stage singing ; at one part she had to take a long breath and sustain a note. She held it for a long time, and three Irishmen in the gallery looked at each other, and one said, " Whist, moind that, will ye?" Another one said, " Oh, that's nothing. That's not the woman at all, it's the gas." A short time after a man created a disturbance in the lower part of the theatre and one Irishman yelled, " Put him out," another one said, "Jump on him," the other one said, " Say Pat, don't waste him; kill a fiddler wid him!" OPPORTUNITIES, "I was told in my youth to seize opportunities. I once tried to seize one. He was rich. He wore dia- monds. As I siezed him he knocked me down, since then I have learned, that he who seizes opportunities, some- times sees the penitentarj^." However, I will seize this opportunity to practice the advice of the man who had been condemned to be hanged. When asked by the judge if he had anything to say, re- plied, " See here judge, this is carying the joke too far; you'd better drop the subject." WATER. 157 WATER. Look at that, ye thirst}' ones of Earth ! Behold it ! See its purity ! See how it glitters, as if a mass of liquid gems ! It is a beverage that w T as brewed by the hand of the Almighty himself. Not in the simmering still over smoking fires, choked with poisonous gases, and surround- ed by the stench of sickening odors and rank corruptions, doth our Father in Heaven prepare the precious essence of life, the pure cold water, but in the green glade and grassy dell, w^here the red deer wanders and the child loves to play. There God brews it, and down, down in the deepest valleys, where the fountains murmur and the rills sing; and high upon the tall mountain-tops, where the naked granite glitters like gold in the sun, where the storm-clouds brood and the thunder storms crash; and away far out on the wide sea, where the hurricanes howl music, and the big waves roar the chorus, sweeping the march of God, there He brews it, that beverage of life, health-giving water ! And everywhere it is a thing of beauty — gleaming in the dew-drop, singing in the summer rain, shining in the ice-gem, till the trees all seem turned into living jewels — spreading a golden veil over the setting sun, or a white gauze around the midnight moon — sporting in the cata- ract, sleeping in the glaciers, dancing in the hail-showers — folding its bright curtain softly about the wintry world, and weaving the many-colored iris, that seraph's zone of the sky, whose woof is the sunbeam of heaven, all check- ered over with celestial flowers by the mystic hand of rarefaction — still always it is beautiful, that blessed life- water ! No poison bubbles on the brink ! Its foam brings no sadness or murder; no blood-stains in its limpid glass; broken-hearted wives, pale w r idows, and starving orphans shed no tears in its depths; no drunkard's shrieking ghost from the grave curses in words of despair. The Almighty and the Alwise Creator gave us but one drink, and that He furnished bountifully. He prepared it in the heavens, amid the mutterings of the thunder and the flashing of the lightning; He sent it coursing down the hillside, and along the majestic river : distilled it in the morning dew, and treasured it in the mighty deep. Beautiful, pure, blessed and glorious ! give me for- ever the sparkling, pure cold water. JUDGE ARRINGTON. 158 scorer's successful recitations ENGINEERS MAKING LOVE. It's noon when Thirty-five is due, An' she comes on time like a flash of light, An' you hear her whistle "Too-tee too I " Long 'fore the pilot swings in sight. Bill Madden's drivin' her in to-day, An' he's calling his sweet-heart far away — Gertrude Hurd lives down by the mill ; You might see her blushin'; she knows it's bill. "Tudie, tudie! Toot-ee ! Tudie, tudie! Tu ! " Six-five, A. M. there's a local comes, Makes up at Bristol, runnin' east ; An' the way her whistle sings and hums Is a livin' caution to man and beast. Every one kuows who Jack White calls, — Little Lou Woodbury, down by the falls ; Summer or Winter, always the same, She hears her lover callin' her name — "Lou-ie! Lou-ie ! Lou-iee!" But at one fifty-one, old Sixty-four — Boston express, runs east, clear through — Drowns her rattle and rumble and roar With the softest whistle that ever blew. An' away on the furthest edge of town Sweet Sue Winthrop's eyes of brown Shine like the starlight, bright and clear, When she hears the whistle of Abel Gear, "You-oo ! S-u-u-u-u-e ! ' ' Along at midnight a freight comes in, Leaves Berlin sometime — I don't know when ; But it rumbles along with a fearful din Till it reaches the Y-switch there and then The clearest notes of the softest bell That out of a brazen goblet fell Wake Nellie Minton out of her dreams ; To her like a wedding-bell it seems — "Nell, Nell, Nell ! Nell, Nell, Nell ! " Tom Willson rides on the right hand side, Givin' her steam at every stride/ AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 159 An' he touches the whistle, low an' clear, For Lulu Gray on the hill, to hear — "Lu-Lu ! Loo-Loo ! Loo-oo ! " So it goes all day an' all night 'Till the old folks have voted the thing a bore ; Old maids and batchelors say it ain't right For folks to do courtin' with such a roar. But the engineers their kisses will blow From a whistle valve to the girls they know, An' stokers the name of their sweethearts tell ; With the "Too-too-too" and the swinging bell. R. J. BURDETTE. SONG OF THE WINTEK WINDS. Oh, what is the song that the winter winds sing, As earth they are robing with snows that they bring From the crystalline realms of the stern ice-king? "Oh, pity the poor! oh, pity the poor ! " Adown the dark street they are rushing along, And into the ears of the hurrying throng, They determinate shout the words of their song, "Oh, pity the poor ! oh, pity the poor ! " They rattle the shutters of the rich millionaire, To knock for the mendicant, shivering there, And are whispering through, on the cold, cold air, "Oh, pity the poor ! oh, pity the poor ! " They part the white curtains, and hover beside The pillow of one in her maidenhood's pride, And breath to her gently, i "The Lord will provide.' Oh, pity the poor! oh, pity the poor ! " Have ye not heard it, this song born of love, Sung by His messengers sent from above To tell us our duty, our stewardship prove? "Then, pity the poor ! Then, pity the poor ! " "The poor ye have always," let love then prevail, Lend to the weak, the distressed, and the frail, Whom society has shut without her white pale, Because they are poor, because they are poor. Is this the glad song that the winter winds sing As back they are soaring with unwearied wing, To the crystalline realms of the stern ice-king? "Earth pities her poor, earth pities her poor ! " WILLIAM M. CLARK, 160 scorer's successful recitations SO WAS I. — Joseph Bert Smiley.* By permission of tlie Author. My name is Tommy, an' I hates That feller of my sister Kate's. He's bigger' n I am an' you see He's sorter lookin' down on me, An' I resents it with a vim; I think I'm just as good as him. He's older, an' he's mighty fly But he's a kid, an' so am I. One time he came, — down by the gate, I guess it must been awful late, — An' Katie, she was there, an' they Was feelin' very nice and gay, An' he was talkin' all the while, About her sweet an' lovin' smile, An' every thin' was nice as pie, An' they was there, an' so was I. They didn't see me, 'cause I slid Down underneath a bush, an' hid, An' he was sayin' that his love Was greater' n all the stars above Up in the glorious heavens placed; An' then his arm got round her waist, An' clouds were floatin' in the sky, An' they was there, an' so was I. I didn't hear just all they said, But by an' by my sister's head Was droopin' on his shoulder, an' I seen him holdin' Katie's hand, An' then he hugged her closer, some, An' then I heered a kiss — yum yum! An' Katie blushed an' drew a sigh, An' sorter coughed, — an' so did I. An' then that feller looked around An' seed me there, down on the ground, « ■■ ■ ' ■ * Author of "Presto Chango," "A Chinese Version of ' Maud Muller,' " &c, in No. 30 of Garrett's well-known Series of 100 Choice Selections. AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 161 Eh — teas he mad? — well, betcher boots I gets right outer there an' scoots. An' he just left my sister Kate A-standin' right there by the gate; An' I seen blood was in his eye, An' he runned fast — an' so did I. I runned the very best I could But he cotched up, — I's 'fraid he would, An' then he said he'd teach me how To know my manners, he'd allow; An' then he shaked me awful. Gee! He just frashed up the ground with me. An' then he stopped it by and by, 'Cause he was tired — an' so was I. An' then he went back to the gate An' couldn't find my sister Kate 'Cause she went in to bed, while he Was runnin' round an' thumpin' me. I got round in a shadder dim, An' made a face, an' guffed at him; An' then the moon larfed, in the sky, 'Cause he was there, an' so was I. WHAK THE HAND O' GOD IS SEEN. Do I like the city? Stranger, 'tisn't likely that I would; 'Tisn't likely that a ranger from the border ever could Git accustomed to the flurry an' the loud, unearthly noise — Everybody in a hurry, men and wimmin, gals an' boys, All a-rushin' like the nation 'mid the rumble and the jar, Jes' as if their soul's salvation hung upon their gittin' thar. Like it? No. I love to wander 'Mid the vales and mountains green, In the border land out yonder Whar the hand o' God is seen. CAPT. JACK CRAWFORD, 162 scorer's successful recitations WHAT THE BOBOLINKS SAID. One afternoon young Philip Brown Was reeling homeward from the town; His brain confused by the flowing bowl, That fell destroyer of body and soul. The path where he was wont to go Lay where the rush and iris grow. The merry brook went babbling by, The painted moth and dragon fly Poised lightly o'er its dimpling face, Or darttd on with agile grace. A blackbird chattered in the sun, The bobolinks rose one by one From out the swaying summer grass, And seemed to mock him as he passed. "Bobolink ! bobolink ! Why, we should think A man would be ashamed to drink ! Birds wouldn't do it ! Chink-a-chee, chee; Not we ! Not we ! we! we! we! we!' ; Poor Phil, ashamed, hung down his he ad ; But soon forgot what the birds had said, And began to dream in a maudlin way Of all the money he meant to pay From his empty pockets, some fine day. He thought he'd invest in a flouring mill, And buy that handsome house on the hill, While his cellars should overflow — "Chee ! chink ! " Up rose another gay bobolink — "You're fooled ! You're fooled ! You stupid, yom, That's not what liquor brings one to ! 'Twill make you poor as poverty ! You'll see ! You'll see! See! see! see! §ee ! " Then Philip muttered, "A pretty pass ! When the birds nag a fellow for taking a glass ! " But the thought soon passed from his misty brain, And he built another "castle in Spain.' ' He giggled and chuckled on thoughts intent Of the day when he should be president. He'd rule the roost with a rigid hand, He'd send his minions all over the land, AND PRINCIPLES OF VOICE AND ACTION. 16S He'd banish the opium-smoking Chinee, But tobacco and whiskey should both be free, And that jolly old rumseller over the way Shouldn't have a penny of license to pay. But a bobolink swayed on a willow limb, And pertly and saucily answered him. "Bobolink! Bobolink ! You seem to think A fool grows wise and great through drink ! 'Twill bring you but disgrace, you'll see ! Twit! Twit! Trust me! Me! me! me! me!" Then Philip bewildered and stammering said : "Th-that bird must have a remarkable head." But the spasm of sense was quickly gone And the maudlin dreamer went maundering on: "As soon as Queen Victoria's dead My little Molly'll rule in her stead ; And as for Willie, don't you be fooled, He's one of the heirs of the late Jay Gould. They'll see that their pa has money to spend ! And I'll buy their mother — such gowns — no end ! " But a bobolink sprang from its resting-place, Flaunting reproof in his very face. "Bobolink ! Bobolink ! Chee-chee chink ! The wives and children of them that drink Down to the lowest level sink. Would you have them looked up to, listen to me/ Let drink now be ! be ! be ! be ! be ! " Then Philip muttered, "Why, what's to pay? The birds have turned temperance cranks to-day, And the worst of it is I'm not so tight But I know very well they are in the right. Then tell me now, if it's not too late, What must I do to be wealthy and great? " Then every bird from its rounded throat, Poured forth a rollicking, joyous note : "Bobolink ! Bobolink ! Chee-chee chink ! Oh, sign the pledge to leave strong drink! Sign it ! Sign it ! As quick as a wink ! Do it ! Do it ! Quick as can be ! And keep it ! Teetotalee ! lee ! lee ! " BELLE L. BAENES. 164 scorer's successful selections. DAFFODILS. I I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, — A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay : Ten thousand saw I, at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced, but they Outdid the sparkling waves in glee ; A poet could not but be gay In such a jocund company ; I gazed — and gazed — but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought. For oft, when on my couch I lie, In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. CHRISTMAS CAROL. babe of Bethlehem, I pause to hear The angel voices chiming sweet and clear; 1 lift my eyes to seek the wondrous star That led the wise men from their home afar; I bend with them in humblest awe to see The Kingly One who sat on Mary's knee! The lowly, meek, yet royal one, who bore The burden of the cross till life was o'er. O Christ, our King, half mortal, all divine, Who e'er can comprehend such love as thine? •^SHINN'S^ COMMERCIAL * SPELLER Combines Spelling, Language Work and Penmanship. ^A Entirely out of the " Old Ruts." Em- bodies N E w Ideas, presents Tested and Successful Methods. ^fr *$& Contains many Unique Fea- tures of Great Practical Value found in no other Speller. tfK ^ A NEW SPELLBNC BOOK ON A NEW PLAN. Consists of Eight Parts, viz. : The Diacritical Marks Explained, and Exercises in Applying them; Articles of Merchandise; Worus in Common L T se; Commercial Terms; Legal Terms; Scientific Terms ; Words Pronounced Alike but Spelled Dif- ferently; Many Classified Lists, Abbreviations, etc. — all with Definitions. The Words are Alphabetically arrange! in each Part — not grouped ac- cording to similarity, as is customary. This effectually breaks up rote learning. All important New Words, sanctioned by authority, are given. Webster's Diacritical Marks are used throughout the work. Printed from new Bold-Faeed, DiacriticalU -Marked Type, cut espec- ially for this work. Hundreds of unpurchased testimonials on file. Contains just what pupils need to learn; omits what they already know. Prepares for Practical Life. Really a Dictionary of Commercial Terms. Unequaled for use in ad- vanced classes in Public Schools, Business Colleges, etc. Do not begin another term until yon see this book ! 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