PART ONE

Intelligent and Intelligible Reading

FIRST STEP. Getting the author’s thought. Discussing INTELLIGENT reading. Giving material for training the pupil in getting the thought from the printed page. Reading at sight and reproducing in his own words. Making outlines of simple selections, principally prose selections.

SECOND STEP. Discussion of INTELLIGIBLE reading. Two-fold purpose: Thought-getting and thought-giving in the author’s words. General and Special preparation. Exercises in Enunciation, Pronunciation, Articulation, Vocabulary.

## CHAPTER I

READING AND PUBLIC SPEECH

It is the first and last object of education “to teach people how to think.” When we consider the vast wealth of great thoughts felt and expressed by great men of all times and recorded for us in books, should we not give serious reflection upon _what_ we read and _how_ we read?

This book has to do primarily with how rightly to _speak_ thoughts and feelings hidden in great literature—yet it is strictly in keeping with this purpose to give some attention to _silent_ reading as distinguished from _oral_ reading. For how can one hope to become an _intelligible_ reader who is not first an _intelligent_ one? This does not argue that an intelligent reader is likewise intelligible, for the mere comprehension of the author’s thought and mood does not in itself insure a proper or adequate oral rendition of the same. In this sense we think of the former act as a necessity, and of the latter as an accomplishment.

Yet in this twentieth century we can hardly make the above limitations, for he who is to become most useful to himself and to others, must not only be able to understand what he reads, but must, at the same time, be able effectively to communicate it to others. The latter accomplishment, of course, necessitates systematic drill and practice, and the greater portion of this book is devoted to a series of lessons for carrying on such a course of instruction. In this immediate chapter, however, we are concerned more particularly with reading in general.

One of the first steps toward fitting oneself to become an impressive reader and speaker is to acquire a real love for the best literature. The only way to do this is by making the acquaintance of great authors, and the best way to come into companionship with noble writers is conscientiously to study their works. Because, at first glance, an author may seem obscure, too many are fain to put the book aside, or substitute for it one that does not require any effort to enjoy. But, after all, is it not the books over which we struggle most that yield us the most joy and the most good? When once we form the friendship of great books and catch their vision, we cannot help but pattern our lives, in a very large measure, in accordance with those fundamental and lasting principles of right living and right thinking which characterize the writings of all great men and women. Their ideals become our ideals.

It seems, therefore, that if we hope to become agreeable speakers or conversationalists we must, at the outset, realize it as imperative that we, make ourselves familiar with the writings, in verse and prose, of noble minds. It is by this close association with great people, who have not only understood and felt the deeper meanings of life, but who have put their experiences and knowledge into permanent literature, that we may have our smaller souls kindled to glow brighter and longer. It is by giving an attentive ear to the voices that call to us from our bookshelves that our finer sensibilities are quickened to fuller appreciation of nature, of art, and of the joy of living.

We must realize that training in the development of oral expression is primarily a cultural course, but, at the same time, a practical one. Many people would invert the order of this statement, but all are agreed that correct vocal expression aids immeasurably in the development of taste and refinement, and, at the same time, affords, in many ways, practical assistance in daily living.

Pure water is more likely to be drawn from a deep well than from a shallow pool. So, also, he who possesses depth of feeling and appreciation of noble thoughts and pure emotions is more likely to give adequate and satisfactory oral expression to them than he whose feeling is shallow and indifferent. Experience teaches that nothing gives greater aid to a spontaneous, irresistible flow of thought, revealing, through voice and body, the finer conceptions of the human soul, than a constant familiarity with the deep wells of the best literature.

By listening eagerly to the best words great men of all times have said to the world, we make our own natures responsive. Then, in greater or lesser measure, as readers or speakers, we translate or interpret these words for the enjoyment or uplift of others.

How can the man, the woman, of limited time and means, proceed so as to find these treasures of literature?

Let us here set down, briefly and clearly, what seems to us the most enjoyable and natural method to use. In the first place, ask yourself if you are willing to be a hard worker, self-sacrificing and humble. Unless you are, you will find that great spirits are slow to share with you their richest treasures. You must first make yourself worthy before you can expect to enter into their _sanctum_. In the words of Ruskin:

You must be willing to work hard to find the hidden meaning of the author. Ask yourself, “Am I inclined to work as an Australian miner would? Are my pick-axes and shovels in good order, and am I in good trim myself, my sleeves well up to my elbows, and my breath good, and my temper?” ... The metal you are in search of being the author’s mind or meaning, his words are as the rock which you have to crush and smelt in order to get at it. And your pick-axes are your own care, wit, and learning; your smelting furnace is your own thoughtful soul. Do not hope to get at any good author’s meaning without those tools and that fire; often you will need sharpest, finest chiseling, and patientest fusing, before you can gather one grain of the metal.

Then, too, you must be patient. An untrained reader is, as it were, wandering in a great forest where he sees many paths, but he knows not which to take. If he pursue a wrong path the first, second or the third time, he should not lose hope, but seek again and again. By such experiences he is sharpening his faculty of discrimination, and erelong can, in a brief space, detect which paths he should follow. No one but yourself can prescribe rightly a course of reading best suited to your

## particular needs. It must be a voluntary search on your own part, and an

enjoyable one, if you are to get the most from it.

But here enters a serious consideration: Is what I enjoy most the best for me? The answer is Yes and No! Yes, if you enjoy most what appeals to the best in you; no, if you enjoy most what in your heart you know appeals to what is the worst in you. Therefore, the important question for you to answer is—does this book, article, essay or poem merely interest me, or does it appeal to the best in me?

Henry Van Dyke expresses the matter perfectly:

The person who wants to grow, turns to books as a means of purifying his tastes, deepening his feelings, broadening his sympathies, and enhancing his joy of life. Literature he loves because it is the most humane of the arts. Its forms and processes interest him as expressions of the human striving towards clearness of thought, purity of emotion, and harmony of

## action with the ideal. The culture of a finer, fuller manhood is

what this reader seeks. He is looking for the books in which the inner meanings of nature and life are translated into language of distinction and charm, touched with the human personality of the author, and embodied in forms of permanent interest and power. This is literature. And the reader who sets his affections on these things enters the world of books as one made free of a city of wonders, a garden of fair delights. He reads not from a sense of duty, not from a constraint of fashion, not from an ambition of learning, but from a thirst of pleasure; because he feels that pleasure of the highest kind,—a real joy in the perception of things lucid, luminous, symmetrical, musical, sincere, passionate, and profound,—such pleasure restores the heart and quickens it, makes it stronger to endure the ills of life and more fertile in all good fruits of cheerfulness, courage and love. This reader for vital pleasure has less need of maps and directories, rules and instructions, than of companionship. A criticism that will go with him in his reading, and open up new meaning in familiar things, and touch the secrets of beauty and power, and reveal the hidden relations of literature to life, and help him to see the reasonableness of every true grace of style, the sincerity of every real force of passion,—a criticism that penetrates, illuminates, and appreciates, making the eyes clearer and the heart more sensitive to perceive the living spirit in good books,—that is the companionship which will be most helpful, and most grateful to the gentle reader.

## CHAPTER II

EFFECTIVE SPEECH

There are four definite steps in the mastery of effective speech:

It must be INTELLIGIBLE It must be SYMPATHETIC It must be MELODIOUS It must be FORCEFUL

In seeking to accomplish these four aims, the pupil will not only increase his culture but his practical mental power as well.

The first step has to do with whatever makes understandable what he has to say. But before he can be _intelligible_ in address, he must be an _intelligent_ reader. He must train himself to master the real meaning of words. This means taking in—comprehending—and translating the thought of others. This is an important part in accomplishing the first step. The mind must be trained quickly and accurately to comprehend the printed page.

THE BASIS FOR GOOD ORAL READING

Grasp this idea firmly: Before one may hope to read _intelligibly_, he must first be an _intelligent_ reader. You cannot express outwardly what you have not received and do not feel inwardly. Therefore the basis of good oral reading is understanding—intelligent silent reading. Some one has well said, “Unless a child can read, he cannot be educated.” How few can read at sight a short passage and then close the book and relate its context. Why is this the case? Because the pupil has not been properly trained to read.

THE BASIS FOR GOOD SILENT READING

In the study of the printed word we must remember that its real meaning depends altogether upon its relation to other words in the same group. For instance, the word “fire” does not mean the same thing at all times. The real meaning of this word depends upon its kinship with other members of the same group. When we say, “The house is on fire,” the word “fire” means an altogether different thing from what it means when we say, “There is need of a fire in the stove this morning.” We must continually take care that we do not isolate words, but that we get their _associated_ meaning. For too long a time in our public schools the pupils have been taught to read _words_ and not _ideas_ or _thoughts_. They have been taught to read word by word and not group by group. For instance, the most elementary pupils will read as follows: “The—cat—can—run—and—play—with—the—ball.” The grouping is altogether overlooked. The children are concentrating their attention upon single or isolated _words_ instead of upon _thought groups_ made up of several words as follows: “The cat can run—and play with the ball.”

GET THE AUTHOR’S THOUGHT

Whatever one reads, he must first determine for what purpose he is reading. A definite aim or end in view must be had to serve as a motive power. The pupil who can relate the successive events in a narrative after having read it carefully, has trained his memory. But memory training is not the highest aim or end. The thing of paramount importance is: What is the application of the author’s meaning? The value lies in what _use_ the student can make of the knowledge. This act of getting the author’s thought draws upon the student’s stock of experience. All new matter comes to the pupil in terms of his past experiences. The task of the teacher is to aid him in identifying himself with the lesson taught by the author, so that he can make practical use of it.

WE ARE NOT STUDYING STYLE

In this present step in the development of the student in effective speech the style of an author is nothing more than a means to an end and not the end itself. The test for the pupil is to see if he can put in his own words the vital meaning of the author. It should not be his purpose to attempt to improve on the writer’s style. It is true that some of the world’s greatest literary expressions would lose their highest significance if put in any other than their original form. This applies especially to verse form, for here the rhythmic movement is an inseparable element in the full expression of the idea. Some one has well said: “Style grows to the thought as the sea-shell to its occupant.” But at this point the aim is not to teach the pupil the mechanics of literature. He must be taught to think for himself and use the knowledge he gains so that it will be valuable in his own life.

THREE DEFINITE AIMS TO GAIN KNOWLEDGE

Let us keep in mind the fact that the pupil is continually seeking information which will help him to live better. He is constantly trying to increase his cultural and practical powers. Of course book learning does not furnish all, but its contribution is immeasurable in its importance. Hence the pupil must learn to master the printed word as well as the spoken word. Here are three definite ends or aims to serve as motive power in getting the thought of the author:

First, the student must seek ideas and not words.

Second, he must seek to classify and organize facts.

Third, he must seek to turn his knowledge to some use.

EACH AIM ILLUSTRATED

To illustrate the first aim, let us take the following lines from Hamlet:

Give me that man That is not passion’s slave, and I will wear him In my heart’s core, aye, in my heart of hearts, As I do thee.

Shakespeare wished to point out the blessedness of that virtue, Independence. It is of little consequence to the pupil in this first step of his growth to make a comparison between Shakespeare’s method of expressing this truth, with that of Elbert Hubbard, who, speaking of Rowan, that man who delivered an important message to Garcia in the jungles of Cuba when we had decided to go to war with Spain, said:

By the Eternal! there is a man whose form should be cast in deathless bronze and the statue placed in every college of the land. It is not book-learning young men need, nor instructions about this and that, but a stiffening of the vertebræ which will cause them to be loyal to a trust, to act promptly, concentrate their energies; do the thing—Carry a message to Garcia!

Is not the aim in both cases for the pupil to get the idea which the authors wish to impress upon his mind? In other words, the authors are not simply writing for art’s sake, as so many would have us believe. The pupil must get the author’s messages, so that they will help him in life, to be both independent or free from passion, and reliable or dependable in whatever he undertakes.

Let us advance to the second step: The classification and organization of facts mean more than the simple process of orderly arrangement. This has to do with translating what the author presents to the pupil in terms of his past experience. This is the process of judging values. Before we pigeon-hole new information, we pass judgment upon its relative importance. The pupil has experienced the value of punctuality, courage, optimism, etc. Now, when any new truth comes under his observation, it is not turned into knowledge until it has gone through his mental gristmill. What he hears, or sees, or feels, is not usable until it has been fitted into its particular niche, and this fitting process is brought about by likening the unknown to the known.

This brings us to the third step. Frederick Harrison has said: “Man’s business here is to know for the sake of living, not to live for the sake of knowing.” There is no better way of expressing the third step in the development of the student in intelligent reading. After he has learned to grasp the author’s thought readily, and then so reacts upon it that it becomes a part of his very being, his next step is to find an open market for the sale of his knowledge. This does not mean to sell for money in the narrow sense, but to put his understanding into actual daily life.

## CHAPTER III

INVENTORY OF SPEECH EFFICIENCY

Before proceeding further, let us estimate our speech efficiency. Every conscientious person can determine the strong and weak points of his speech by asking himself a few questions. Some, more sensitive than others, will very likely magnify their weaknesses and minimize their commendable qualities. Be that as it may, the vast majority will give a fair rating to both good and bad vocal habits.

This personal consultation with yourself may take a long or a short time. Some are quick to see faults in themselves—and probably slow to correct them; still others are slow to see their own errors and probably never will correct them; but all careful and honest students will discover at once where they are lacking in the proper management of voice, and will proceed to overcome their difficulties.

In rating speech efficiency it is well to make use of the common questionnaire plan. The questions fall under two separate heads, namely, the Knowing and the Doing.

THE KNOWING

1. Do I realize that I use my voice almost constantly?

2. Do I realize that success in business or society depends largely upon the convincing power of speech?

3. Do I realize how much of my speech is of no avail?

4. Do I realize the vital importance of _inflection_ and the influence it has upon those who hear me?

5. Do I realize the great delight that comes through the mastery of correct vocal usage?

6. Do I realize that it is unnecessary to have a tired throat at the end of the day?

7. Do I realize that in a very large degree a pleasing personality depends upon a pleasing voice?

8. Do I realize that by attaining convincing power of speech I am promoting my efficiency?

THE DOING

1. Do I talk more than is necessary?

2. Do I pitch my voice too high?

3. Do I speak with a tense, set jaw and use a hard, metallic tone?

4. Do I talk in my throat instead of in my mouth?

5. Do I continually talk on the same key?

6. Do I talk too fast, or too slow, or too loud, or too low?

7. Do I use my voice as a medium by which I give vent to anger or displeasure?

8. Do I speak quietly and softly, and thus indicate culture and refinement?

9. Do I speak loudly in order to be persuasive?

10. Do I attract undue attention to my speech?

11. Do I enunciate with clearness and precision?

12. Do I harmonize tone with mood?

* * * * *

More items could be placed under these two headings, but the above are sufficient to bring the student face to face with his speech difficulties. We must know wherein we lack speech efficiency before we can remedy the lack. The following chapters present adequate exercises for needed improvement.

## CHAPTER IV

ORAL READING

If the pupil is to enjoy logical and consistent development in expression, he must be taught along psychological lines. Teachers should never lose sight of the fact that what is good for one pupil is not always good for another. It is impossible to set down a set of rules which will govern alike all pupils. Only that teacher is worthy of the name who recognizes that every pupil presents more or less a separate problem.

TEACHER’S FIRST GREAT TASK

The teacher’s first important task is to render the pupil rightly disposed. Some pupils are at once extremely anxious to be governed by the wisdom of their teachers, while others are skeptical and must serve an apprenticeship in imitation. Still others are perverse and must be coerced. It is the patient and long-suffering teacher whose highest hopes will be realized.

WHAT IS EXPRESSION?

What is expression? We are told that all life is expression: The sudden summer shower, the leap of the wild cataract, the springing forth of early flowers, and the slow motion of the glacier all represent Nature expressing herself. The musician over the keyboard, the painter at his easel, the writer at his desk, represent art expressing herself. This is all true. But what about mankind as a whole, what about the vast majority of people who are not endowed with genius? Have they no universal and common mode of expression?

GREATEST EDUCATIONAL VALUE

Here lies the great educational value of oral reading, of expressive speech. Their appeal should be universal and not confined to a talented few. It were better that those who have native ability were wholly neglected and allowed to express themselves in their own way, than that the vast majority have no training at all. It is the ungifted who should be aided rather than those who have been especially endowed by Nature.

THE DESIRE TO EXPRESS

The desire to express is common to all humanity from infancy to old age. The true aim of education should be to “draw out” that which is within us; in other words, to express ourselves—physically, mentally and spiritually. The world’s great personalities are those who have the greatest freedom of expression. They have mastered the power to reveal their inmost selves. They have profited by the truth that through exercise we grow. So we should continually aim to free those channels through which we communicate ourselves to the outside world, in order that our highest faculties be unshackled and be given perfect freedom.

THE CHANNELS OF EXPRESSION

Let us consider briefly what are the chief avenues or channels of revealing what we are to others. Our first means is by movements of a part or all of the body. This we call the Physical Channel. Later in the development of man the location of sound in the throat was made. Man noted that when he experienced a certain mood, unconsciously he gave vent to a corresponding guttural noise or sound. This is called the Sound or Tone Channel. Lastly, man invented sound symbols—words. That is, certain vocal sounds represented certain objects and ideas. This we call the Word Channel.

MERGING OF THE CHANNELS

To sum up, we have three separate ways by which we can express what we think and feel. It is very important that the pupil, as well as the teacher, keep this fact in mind. If we are to be natural and successful in giving out what we really are, these three means must coördinate, must act harmoniously. That is, the body, or Physical Channel, must parallel the Word Channel, and the Tone Channel must parallel the Physical and Word Channel. Each must bear witness to the truth uttered by the other. When the fullness of each, freighted with human meaning, overflows, there is a merging of all three. The result is natural and intense expression. Our supreme purpose is to realize this triune of man’s expressive powers.

## CHAPTER V

SELECTIONS FOR PART ONE

The preceding discussions should be kept in mind while studying the following selections. The primary purpose is to seek after the author’s thought. If we are able to relate clearly and fluently in our own words the content of what we have read, then we can feel assured that we have found out the meaning of the author.

First: Read the selection paragraph by paragraph. Then arrange in your mind the several points in their respective order. Now give them orally as simply and progressively as possible.

Second: Read the selection again by paragraphs and this time determine what are the important and unimportant words. Then give these important words a greater force of utterance.

Third: Do not fear to make many groups. We must first see the author’s ideas and pictures in broken bits. When we have thought clearly on each part of the whole, and have each part securely in mind, we can then surely and effectively put these separate parts into one complete picture.

THE DOUGLAS SQUIRREL

BY JOHN MUIR

Go where you will throughout the noble woods of the Sierra Nevada, among the giant pines and spruces of the lower zones, up through the towering Silver Firs to the storm-bent thickets of the summit peaks, you everywhere find this little squirrel the master-existence. Though only a few inches long, so intense is his fiery vigor and restlessness, he stirs every grove with wild life, and makes himself more important than even the huge bears that shuffle through the tangled underbrush beneath him. Every wind is fretted by his voice, almost every bole and branch feel the sting of his sharp feet. How much the growth of the trees is stimulated by his means it is not easy to learn, but his action in manipulating their seeds is more appreciable. Nature has made him master forester and committed most of her coniferous crops to his paws. Probably over fifty per cent of all the cones ripened on the Sierra are cut off and handled by the Douglas alone, and of those of the Big Trees perhaps ninety per cent pass through his hands: the greater portion is of course stored away for food to last during the winter and spring, but some of them are tucked separately into loosely covered holes, where some of the seeds germinate and become trees....

One never tires of this bright chip of nature,—this brave little voice crying in the wilderness,—of observing his many works and ways, and listening to his curious language. His musical, piny gossip is as savory to the ear as balsam to the palate; and, though he has not exactly the gift of song, some of his notes are as sweet as those of a linnet—almost flute-like in softness, while others prick and tingle like thistles. He is the mocking-bird of squirrels, pouring forth mixed chatter and song like a perennial fountain; barking like a dog, screaming like a hawk, chirping like a blackbird or a sparrow; while in bluff, audacious noisiness he is a very jay.

In descending the trunk of a tree with the intention of alighting on the ground, he preserves a cautious silence, mindful, perhaps, of foxes and wildcats; but while rocking safely at home in the pine-tops there is no end to his capers and noise; and woe to the gray squirrel or chipmunk that ventures to set foot on his favorite tree! No matter how slyly they trace the furrows of the bark, they are speedily discovered, and kicked downstairs with comic vehemence, while a torrent of angry notes comes rushing from his whiskered lips that sounds remarkably like swearing. He will even attempt at times to drive away dogs and men, especially if he has had no previous knowledge of them. Seeing a man for the first time, he approaches nearer and nearer, until within a few feet; then, with angry outburst, he makes a sudden rush, all teeth and eyes, as if about to eat you up. But, finding that the big forked animal doesn’t scare, he prudently beats a retreat, and sets himself up to reconnoiter on some overhanging branch, scrutinizing every movement you make with ludicrous solemnity.

Mr. Muir thus tells of an amusing experience he had with a Douglas squirrel that he found at his breakfast:

Breakfast done, I whistled a tune for him before he went to work, curious to see how he would be affected by it. He had not seen me all this while; but the instant I began to whistle he darted up the tree nearest to him, and came out on a small dead limb opposite me, and composed himself to listen. I sang and whistled more than a dozen airs, and as the music changed his eyes sparkled, and he turned his head quickly from side to side, but made no other response. Other squirrels, hearing the strange sounds, came around on all sides, also chipmunks and birds. One of the birds, a handsome, speckle-breasted thrush, seemed even more interested than the squirrels. After listening for awhile on one of the lower dead sprays of a pine, he came swooping forward within a few feet of my face, and remained fluttering in the air for half a minute or so, sustaining himself with whirring wing-beats, like a humming-bird in front of a flower, while I could look into his eyes and see his innocent wonder.

By this time my performance must have lasted nearly half an hour. I sang or whistled “Bonnie Doon,” “Lass o’ Gowrie,” “O’er the Water to Charlie,” “Bonnie Woods o’ Cragie Lee,” etc., all of which seemed to be listened to with bright interest, my first Douglas sitting patiently through it all, with his telling eyes fixed upon me until I ventured to give the “Old Hundredth,” when he screamed his Indian name, Pillillooeet, turned tail, and darted with ludicrous haste up the tree out of sight, his voice and actions in the case leaving a somewhat profane impression, as if he had said, “I’ll be hanged if you get me to hear anything so solemn and unpiney.” This acted as a signal for the general dispersal of the whole hairy tribe, though the birds seemed willing to wait further developments, music being naturally more in their line.

What there can be in that grand old church tune that is so offensive to birds and squirrels I can’t imagine. A year or two after this High Sierra concert, I was sitting one fine day on a hill in the Coast Range, where the common Ground Squirrels were abundant. They were very shy on account of being hunted so much; but after I had been silent and motionless for half an hour or so they began to venture out of their holes and to feed on the seeds of the grasses and thistles around me as if I were no more to be feared than a tree-stump. Then it occurred to me that this was a good opportunity to find out whether they also disliked “Old Hundredth.” Therefore I began to whistle as nearly as I could remember the same familiar airs that had pleased the mountaineers of the Sierra. They at once stopped eating, stood erect and listened patiently until I came to “Old Hundredth,” when with ludicrous haste every one of them rushed in their holes and bolted in, their feet twinkling in the air for a moment as they vanished.—From “The Mountains of California,” copyrighted by _The Century Company_, New York, and used by their kind permission.

* * * * *

Nothing small! no lily-muffled hum of a summer-bee, but finds some coupling with the shining stars; no pebble at your feet but proves a sphere; no chaffinch, but implies the cherubim. Earth’s crammed with heaven, and every common bush afire with God.

—MRS. BROWNING.

* * * * *

Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers.

—LOWELL.

* * * * *

Once or twice in a lifetime we are permitted to enjoy the charm of noble manners, in the presence of a man or woman who have no bar in their nature, but whose character emanates freely in their word and gesture. A beautiful form is better than a beautiful face; a beautiful behavior is better than a beautiful form: it gives a higher pleasure than statues or pictures,—it is the finest of the fine arts. A man is but a little thing in the midst of the objects of nature, yet, by the moral quality radiating from his countenance, he may abolish all considerations of magnitude, and in his manners equal the majesty of the world. I have seen an individual, whose manners, though wholly within the conventions of elegant society, were never learned there, but were original and commanding, and held out protection and prosperity; one who did not need the aid of a court-suit, but carried the holiday in his eye; who exhilarated the fancy by flinging wide the doors of new modes of existence; who shook off the captivity of etiquette, with happy spirited bearing, good-natured and free as Robin Hood; yet with the port of an emperor, if need be, calm, serious, and fit to stand the gaze of millions.

—EMERSON.

* * * * *

Look at ourselves. Look at man; his reason, intelligence, and discoveries. Look at him diving into the depths of the ocean, calculating the eclipses of the sun and moon, and making the elements subservient to his interest and his wants. Look at his capacities; review the ten thousand arguments that daily, nay, hourly, arise, and then tell me if there is the shadow of a doubt that a God, a retributive God, does rule the whirlwind and direct the storm.

—R. RICKER.

* * * * *

Education is a companion which no misfortune can depress—no crime can destroy—no enemy can alienate—no despotism enslave. At home, a friend—abroad, an introduction—in solitude, a solace—and in society, an ornament. It chastens vice—it guides virtue—it gives at once grace and government to genius—without it, what is Man? A splendid slave—a reasoning savage!

* * * * *

Just before Napoleon set out for the court of Belgium, he sent to the cleverest artisan of his class in Paris, and demanded of him whether he would engage to make a coat of mail, to be worn under the ordinary dress, which should be absolutely bullet-proof; and that if so, he might name his own price for such a work. The man engaged to make the desired object, if allowed proper time, and he named eighteen thousand francs as the price of it. The bargain was concluded, and in due time the work was produced, and its maker honored with a second audience of the emperor. “Now,” said his imperial majesty, “put it on.” The man did so. “As I am to stake my life on its efficacy, you will, I suppose, have no objections to do the same.” And he took a brace of pistols, and prepared to discharge one of them at the breast of the astonished artisan. There was no retreating, however, and half-dead with fear, he stood the fire, and, to the infinite credit of his work, with perfect impunity. But the emperor was not content with one trial; he fired the second pistol at the back of the trembling artisan, and afterwards discharged a fowling-piece at another part of him, with similar effect. “Well,” said the emperor, “you have produced a capital work, undoubtedly—what is the price of it?” “Eighteen thousand francs were named as the agreed sum.” “There is an order for them,” said the emperor, “and here is another, for an equal sum, for the fright that I gave you.”

WORK AND THE WORKER

BY THEODORE ROOSEVELT

There are any number of different kinds of work we have to do, all of which have to be done. There is the work of the farmer, the work of the business man, the work of the skilled mechanic, the work of the men to whom I owe my safety every day and every night—the work of the railroad men; the work of the lawyer, the work of the sailor, the work of the soldier, the work in ten thousand ways; it is all good work; it does not make any difference what work the man is doing if he does it well. If the man is a slacker, a shiftless creature, I wish we could get rid of him. He is of no use. In every occupation you will find some men whom you will have to carry. You cannot do much with them. Every one of us will stumble at times, and shame to the man who does not at such times stretch out a helping hand, but if the man lies down you cannot carry him to any permanent use. What I would plead for is that we recognize the fact that all must work, that we bring up our children to work, so that each respects the other. I do not care whether a man is a banker or a bricklayer; if he is a good banker or a good bricklayer he is a good citizen; if he is dishonest, if he is tricky, if he shirks his job or tries to cheat his neighbor, be he great or small, be he the poor man cheating the rich man, or the rich man oppressing the poor man, in either case he is a bad citizen.—Remarks at Berenda, California, May 18, 1903.

THE MUSIC OF AMERICA

BY ROSCOE GILMORE STOTT

This is the Music of America:

Above the fret of a hundred routine duties and a thousand cares rises the clarion Soprano. It comes from the joyful throats of millions of women, blest beyond their sorrowing sisters who dwell on foreign shores. It is the voice of the clear-eyed schoolgirl, romping her happy way from a world of books into a gentler world of love; of the self-reliant sister who is facing the forces of business with spirit courageous and step that has never learned to falter; of the mother of a tender brood and, blended into the melody her own heart makes, the sweet, lisped crooning from the child at her bosom.

The Tenor notes are strong and full of golden promises. They come from souls that have climbed above the city’s boldest heights. They come from the souls of self-forgetful men—a proud nation’s watchers upon her towers whose eager eyes scan the far stretches that they may guard with loyalty against the perfidy of home or foreign foes. The Tenor is the united voices of the poets and philosophers, of the reformers and statesmen—yes, and of all that growing host who have scaled to the peak of some new Sinai, that the people may not forget the Almighty’s will concerning them.

Listen, and you will mark the rich, rounded tones of the Contralto—from the great-hearted organizations of Charity. Mingled into one vast, sweeping tone—quivering with sympathy, vibrant with a heart’s best faith—is the voice of the nurse, bending above some frail or stricken sufferer; the voice of the matron at the threshold of some gracious Door of Hope; the voice of the orphanage, the voice of the infirmary, the voice of the rescue mission, the voice of the Salvation Army, the voice of the Red Cross, the voice of the Christian Association, the voice of the Church.

And underneath the united harmony of Soprano and Contralto, under the inspiring silver thread of Tenor, there comes the wonderful support of all, the basis of a nation’s Song of Hope—the splendid and terrible contribution of strong-armed, mighty-limbed Labor—the Bass. In the low, deep resonance of the singer’s rare volume one may catch a vision of men, stern of visage and powerful in action, dominated by the happy unity of Will and Service, pouring down into depths of Mother Earth, that other men may have homes that radiate a social warmth; a vision of men at forge and flame, at plow and pruning-hook, at threshing-machine and throttle. The mighty voice thrills with the shriek of a million factory whistles, of sea and river craft, of rushing locomotives competing against Time and Space.... Underneath all, the splendid and terrible tones of a giant singer.

So, let us be glad and rejoice! The All-King, as He sits on the White Throne, marshaling His worlds, pauses. He bends a listening ear, and surely His heart is made glad with an overpowering happiness as His ears catch the strains of a grateful people’s reverence—as He listens to the Music of America!—From _The Ladies Home Journal_.

THE VIRTUES OF LOVE

BY SAINT PAUL THE APOSTLE

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.

And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.

And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.

Charity suffereth long and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.

For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.—I Corinthians, XIII.

THE MAJESTY OF THE OCEAN

BY “PROTEUS”

My first view of it was on a clear, but gusty afternoon of autumn. The winds had been abroad for many hours; and as I looked seaward from the high promontory, and beheld the long, rough surges rushing towards me, and listened to their wild roar as they were flung back from the caverned battlements at my feet, I felt as if the pillars of the universe were shaken around me, and stood awed and abashed before the majesty of excited nature. Since then, I have been on lofty precipices while the thunder-cloud was bursting below me—have leaned over the trembling brink of Niagara, and walked within its awful chambers, but the thrill of that moment has never returned. The feeling of awe, however, gradually gave place to an intense but pleasing emotion, and I longed to spring away from the tame and trodden earth, to that wild, mysterious world, whose strange scenes broke so magnificently upon my vision. No wonder that our first roving impulses are towards the ocean. No wonder that the romance and adventurous spirit of youth deems lightly of hardship and peril, when aroused by its stirring presentations. There is something so winning in the multiplied superstitions of its hardy wanderers—something so fascinating in its calm beauty, and so animating in its stormy recklessness, that the ties of country and kindred sit looser at our hearts, as curiosity whispers of its unseen wonders. In after years, when the bloom of existence has lost much of its brightness, when curiosity has become enervated, and the powers of the imagination palsied, where do we sooner return to renew their former pleasing excitement, than to our remembered haunts by the ocean? We leave behind us all the splendor and magnificence of art, all the voluptuous gratifications of society—we break from the banquet and the dance, and fly away to the solitary cliffs, where the sea-bird hides her nest. There the cares, perplexities, and rude jostlings of opposing interests are for a while forgotten. There the turmoil of human intercourse disquiets no longer. There the sweat and dust of the crowded city are dispelled as the cool sea-breeze comes gently athwart our feverish brow. In the exhilaration of the scene, the blood gathers purer at the heart—its pulse-beat is softer, and we feel once more a newness of life, amounting almost to a transport. Delightful remembrances, that lie buried up under the dross of the past, are reanimated, and the charm, the peace, and the freshness of life’s morning innocence again finds in our bosom a welcome and a home. The elastic spring of boyhood is in our step as we chase the receding wave along the white beach, or leap wildly into its glassy depths. In the low, billowy murmur that steals out upon the air, our ear catches the pleasant, but long unheard music of other years, like the remembered voice of a departed companion; and while leaning over some beetling crag, glorious visions pass, thronging before our eyes, as, in fancy, we rove through the coral groves, where the mermaids have their emerald bower, or gaze at the hidden beauties, the uncoveted gems, and the glittering argosies that repose amid the stilly waters. The soul goes forth, as it were, to the hallowed and undefiled temples of nature, to be purified of its earthly contamination. She takes to herself wings, and flies away to the “uttermost parts of the sea,” and even there she hears the voice of the Divine, witnesses the manifestations of His power, experiences the kind guardianship of His presence, and returns cheered and invigorated to renew her weary pilgrimage.

THE GRAY DAYS

BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE

You don’t love the gray days now. You want the sunshiny days, the roses and the carnations. Let me tell you, children, you will love the gray days just as well when they come. Some day, when the heart is wearied, when the eyes are hot and tired and dry with weeping, when the face is burned by the noonday sun, you will know how like a kiss of blessedness from heaven comes the soft, cool touch of the mist, creeping up out of the sea or coming down over the mountain, until it folds you as the wings of a dove, and shuts you in with peace and rest and hope, and the tenderness of God. Oh, you will thank God again and again for the gray days.

THE PRESENT CRISIS

BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL

When a deed is done for Freedom, through the broad earth’s aching breast Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on from east to west, And the slave, where’er he cowers, feels the soul within him climb To the awful verge of manhood, as the energy sublime Of a century bursts full-blossomed on the thorny stem of Time.

Through the walls of hut and palace shoots the instantaneous throe, When the travail of the Ages wrings earth’s systems to and fro; At the birth of each new Era, with a recognizing start, Nation wildly looks at nation, standing with mute lips apart, And glad Truth’s yet mightier man-child leaps beneath the Future’s heart.

So the Evil’s triumph sendeth, with a terror and a chill, Under continent to continent, the sense of coming ill, And the slave, where’er he cowers, feels his sympathies with God In hot tear-drops ebbing earthward, to be drunk up by the sod, Till a corpse crawls round unburied, delving in the nobler clod.

For mankind are one in spirit, and an instinct bears along Round the earth’s electric circle, the swift flash of right or wrong Whether conscious or unconscious, yet Humanity’s vast frame Through its ocean-sundered fibers feels the gush of joy or shame:— In the gain or loss of one race all the rest have equal claim.

Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide, In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side; Some great cause, God’s new Messiah offering each the bloom or blight Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep upon the right, And the choice goes by forever ’twixt that darkness and that light.

Hast thou chosen, O my people, in whose party thou shalt stand, Ere the Doom from its worn sandals shakes the dust against our land? Though the cause of Evil prosper, yet ’tis Truth alone is strong, And, albeit she wander outcast now, I see around her throng Troops of beautiful, tall angels, to enshield her from all wrong.

Backward look across the ages and the beacon-moments see, That, like peaks of some sunk continent, jut through Oblivion’s sea; Not an ear in court or market for the low foreboding cry Of those crises, God’s stern winnowers, from whose feet earth’s chaff must fly, Never shows the choice momentous till the judgment hath passed by.

Careless seems the great Avenger; history’s pages but record One death-grapple in the darkness ’twixt old systems and the Word; Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the throne,— Yet that scaffold sways the future, and, behind the dim unknown, Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above His own.

We see dimly in the Present what is small and what is great, Slow of faith, how weak an arm may turn the iron helm of fate, But the soul is still oracular; amid the market’s din, List the ominous stern whisper from the Delphic cave within,— “They enslave their children’s children who make compromise with sin.”

## CHAPTER VI

ARTICULATION EXERCISES

_The pronunciations and definitions throughout these pages are those given in “Webster’s New International Dictionary,” published by G. & C. Merriam Co., Springfield, Mass., 1918 Edition._

Without a graceful and pleasing enunciation, all your elegancy of style in speaking is not worth a farthing.

—CHESTERFIELD.

In the utterance of words we are concerned with the following terms: Pronunciation, Enunciation and Articulation. In a general way their meanings are identical, but yet there is a mark of difference characterizing each.

_Pronunciation_ has to do with the act of uttering a single letter, syllable, word, sentence, or whole address. This concerns _correctness_.

_Enunciation_ has to do with careful, distinct utterance so that any word or any part of a word is completely audible. This concerns _distinctness_.

_Articulation_ has to do with the act of gracefully and skillfully manipulating those organs of speech necessary for the correct pronunciation and distinct enunciation of words. This concerns _skillfulness_.

At least a part of the following exercises should be practiced daily, preferably in the morning. A few minutes’ practice is a splendid tonic for the tasks of the day.

I. FOR THE LIPS AND JAW

1. Repeat e a aw ah o oo. In doing this extend the lips and use a relaxed jaw.

2. Repeat again, giving a rising inflection to each. Then give each sound the falling inflection, and then the circumflex inflection.

3. Intone them on successive pitches. Be sure you have pure vowel quality.

4. Whisper the sounds e aw permitting the jaw, in the latter sound, to drop completely relaxed each time.

II. FOR LIPS, TONGUE AND SOFT PALATE

1. Repeat eb ab awb ahb ob oob.

2. Repeat ed ad awd ahd od ood.

3. Repeat eg ag awg ahg og oog.

4. Repeat ek ak awk ahk ok ook.

III. THE ASPIRATES, OR BREATH SOUNDS

1. Repeat the breath sound of p wh f th s t sh h k.

2. Repeat wh (when) whe wha whaw whah who whoo.

3. Repeat fe fa faw fah fo foo.

4. Repeat th (thin) the tha thaw thah tho thoo.

5. Repeat se sa saw sah so soo.

6. Repeat te ta taw tah to too.

7. Repeat she sha shaw shah sho shoo.

8. Repeat he ha haw hah ho hoo.

9. Repeat ke ka kaw kah ko koo.

10. Repeat pe pa paw pah po poo.

IV. THE SUB-VOCAL SOUNDS

1. Repeat the vocal sound of b w th v z d r zh y g.

2. Repeat be ba baw bah bo boo.

3. Repeat w (wise) we wa waw wah wo woo.

4. Repeat ve va vaw vah vo voo.

5. Repeat ze za zaw zah zo zoo.

6. Repeat de da daw dah do doo.

7. Repeat re ra raw rah ro roo.

8. Repeat zhe zha zhaw zhah zho zhoo.

9. Repeat ye ya yaw yah yo yoo.

10. Repeat ge ga gaw gah go goo.

11. Repeat th (thine) the tha thaw thah tho thoo.

V. THE LIQUID SOUNDS

1. Repeat l m n.

2. Repeat le la law lah lo loo.

3. Repeat me ma maw mah mo moo.

4. Repeat ne na naw nah no noo.

VI. THE NASAL SOUNDS

1. Repeat m-m-m-e m-m-m-a m-m-m-aw m-m-m-ah m-m-m-o m-m-m-oo.

2. Repeat n-n-n-e n-n-n-a n-n-n-aw n-n-n-ah n-n-n-o n-n-n-oo.

3. Repeat ng-ng-ng-e ng-ng-ng-a ng-ng-ng-aw ng-ng-ng-ah ng-ng-ng-o ng-ng-ng-oo.

VII. COMBINATION SOUNDS

1. 2. 3. 4. _Breath_ _Voice_ _Breath_ _Voice_ _Breath_ _Voice_ _Breath_ _Voice_ fe ve whe we se ze she zhe fa va wha wa sa za sha zha faw vaw whaw waw saw zaw shaw zhaw fah vah whah wah sah zah shah zhah fo vo who we so zo sho zho foo voo whoo woo soo zoo shoo zhoo

Here follow a number of difficult combinations especially good for the pupil who mumbles or is habitually careless and indolent. Their use is effective in producing flexibility of lips, tongue and palate. It is not advisable to spend too intensive or too long practice, however, upon these so-called tongue-twisters lest verbal utterance becomes a laborious, mechanical process. But there are some who need just such exercises, and those who desire rapid and distinct articulation cannot practice them too much, provided their exercise is interesting or amusing.

Betty Botter bought some butter. “But,” she said, “this butter’s bitter; If I put it in my batter, It will make my batter bitter; But a bit of better butter Will but make my batter better.” So she bought a bit o’ butter Better than the bitter butter, And made her bitter batter better. So ’twas better Betty Botter Bought a bit of better butter.

—_Sheffield Telegraph._

* * * * *

“Thunder,” thought Theresa.

“Thieves!” throbbed Theodore.

Theresa thumped, threatened, thwarted those three thieves, throwing the thick thesaurus—that thrilled them! Theodore thanked Theresa.

* * * * *

I like to write about Marie, For _glee_ and _she_ and _be_ and _see_ And _we_ and _plea_ and _free_ and _me_ All go nicely with Marie.

—_Chicago Herald._

* * * * *

How much wood would a wood chuck chuck If a wood chuck could and would chuck wood? He’d chuck as much wood as a wood chuck would If a wood chuck could and would chuck wood.

* * * * *

A thatcher of Thatchwood went to Thatchet a-thatching.

Five flippy Frenchmen foolishly fanning fainting flies.

Eight eager, earnest, eccentric Englishmen eating eleven elusive eagles.

High up the hill he heaved a huge hoe.

A cheap, changeable, child-like chimpanzee champion playing checkers with Charles.

Black bugs’ blood. (Repeat quickly.)

* * * * *

When a twiner a-twisting will twist him a twist, For the twining his twist he three twines doth entwist. But if one of the twines of the twist doth untwist The twine that untwisted, untwisteth the twist.

* * * * *

As much of the dew that the dew drops drop, if dew drops do drop dew.

* * * * *

A tutor, who tooted a flute, tried to tutor two tooters to toot. Said the two to the tutor: “Is it harder to toot, or tutor two tooters to toot?”

* * * * *

A shy little she said shoo To a fly and a flea in a flue. Said the flea, “Let us fly.” Said the fly, “Let us flee.” So they flew through a flaw in the flue.

* * * * *

Amidst the mists and coldest frosts, With barest wrists and stoutest boasts, He thrusts his fists against the posts, And still insists he sees the ghosts.

* * * * *

Bring a bit of buttered bran bread. Lucy likes light literature. Around the rough and rugged rocks the ragged rascal ran. A lovely lily lying all alone along the lane. Can a stammerer flatter a flatterer? The bald lawyer saw all in the hall. Ask at last the flask for the task.

* * * * *

To the Windmills said the Millwheel: “As the wind wills do you still wheel?” “Yes, we still wheel when the wind wills!” To the Millwheel said the Windmills.

* * * * *

She stood at the door of Mrs. Smith’s fish-sauce shop in the Strand welcoming him in.

Sisyphus sold six pairs of shining steel, slippery scissors.

What noise annoys a noisy oyster most? A noisy noise annoys noisy oyster most.

A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump. (Not _whole hump_.)

A sad dangler. (Not _angler_.)

A languid dame. (Not _aim_.)

His crime moved me. (Not _cry_.)

He will prate to anybody. (Not _pray_.)

Chaste stars. (Not _tars_.)

Irish yews. (Not _shoes_.)

“Give the cat stale bread!” “The cat’s tail, mamma?”

“Silence, child!”

Fill the sieve with thistles, then sift the thistles in the sieve.

A glowing gleam glowing green.

The bleak breeze blighted the bright broom blossoms.

Flesh of freshly dried flying fish.

Six thick thistle sticks.

Two toads tried to trot to Tedbury.

Give Grimes Jim’s great gilt gig whip.

Strong Stephen Stringer snared slickly six sickly silky snakes.

Much water makes the meal-mill wheel work well.

Eye her highness, how high she holds her old haughty head.

The soup must be heated before he eat it.

* * * * *

Hugh Go goes for the girls that he sees; Pa Go goes ’cause it limbers his knees; Ma Go goes for the ease ’neath the trees; Nanny Go goes for the coasters that please; Letta Go goes for Galligher’s squeeze. So, go where the Goes go.

* * * * *

Max with a wax match.

The sea ceaseth—it sufficeth sufficiently that the sea ceaseth.

Six slick slim slippery slimy sleek slender sickly saplings.

* * * * *

Owen Moore went away Owing more than he could pay; Owen Moore came back one day Owing more.

* * * * *

There was a young fellow named Tait Who dined with his girl at 8:08. As Tate did not state, I cannot relate What Tate and his _tête-à-tête_ ate at 8:08.

* * * * *

A farmer had a seeder for the seeding of the seed. It was a cedar seeder, and said he: “I never seed a seeder that could exceed this yere cedar seeder for the seedin’ of the seed.”

* * * * *

SIMON SHORT’S SON SAMUEL

Shrewd Simon Short sewed shoes. Seventeen summers’ speeding storms, spreading sunshine, successively saw Simon’s small shabby shop still stanch; saw Samuel’s self-same squeaking sign still swinging, silently speechifying: “Simon Short, Smithfield’s sole surviving shoemaker, shoes sewed, soled superfinely.”

Simon’s spry, sedulous spouse, Sally Short, sewed shirts, stitched sheets, stuffed sofas. Simon’s six stout, sturdy sons, Seth, Samuel, Stephen, Saul, Shadrach, Silas—sold sundries. Sober Seth sold sugar, starch, spice; Simple Samuel sold saddles, stirrups, screws; sagacious Stephen sold silks, satins, shawls; skeptical Saul sold silver salvers; selfish Shadrach sold salves, shoestrings, soap, skates, saws, sausages, sawdust; slack Silas sold Sally Short’s stuffed sofas.

Some seven summers since, Simon’s second son, Samuel, saw Sophia Sophronia Spriggs, sweet, sensible, smart Sophronia Spriggs. Sam showed strange symptoms. Sam seldom stayed storing, selling saddles. Sam sighed sorrowfully, sought Sophia Sophronia Spriggs’ society; sung several serenades slyly. Simon stormed, scolded severely, said Sam seemed so silly singing such shameful, senseless songs. “Strange, Sam should slight such splendid summer sales! Strutting Spendthrift! Shatter-brained simpleton!”

“Softly, softly, sire!” said Sally. “Sam’s smitten; Sam’s spied some sweetheart.”

“Sentimental schoolboy!” snarled Simon. “Smitten! stop such stuff!” Simon sent Sally’s snuffbox spinning, seized Sally’s scissors, smashed Sally’s spectacles, scattered several spools. “Sneaking scoundrel! Sam’s shocking silliness shall surcease!” Scowling Simon stopped speaking, starting swiftly shopward. Sally sighed sadly. Summoning Sam, she spoke sweet sympathy.

“Sam,” said she, “Sire seems singularly snappy; so, sonny, stop strutting streets, stop smoking segars, spending specie superfluously, stop sprucing so, stop singing serenades, stop short! Sell saddles sensibly. See Sophia Sophronia Spriggs soon; she’s sprightly; she’s stable. So, solicit, sue, secure Sophia speedily, Sam.”

“So soon? So soon?” said Sam, standing stock-still.

“So soon, surely,” said Sally, smiling, “’specially since Sire shows such spirits.”

So Sam, somewhat scared, sauntered slowly, shaking stupendously. Sam soliloquizes: “Sophia Sophronia Spriggs—Spriggs—Samuel Short’s spouse—sounds splendid. Suppose she should say—shoo? She shan’t! She shan’t!”

Soon Sam spied Sophia starching shirts, singing softly. Seeing Sam, she stopped starching, saluted Sam smilingly. Sam stammered shockingly: “Spl-spl-splendid summer season, Sophia.”

“Somewhat sultry,” suggested Sophia.

“Sar-sartin, Sophia,” said Sam! (Silence seventeen seconds.)

“Selling saddles, still, Sam?”

“Sartin,” said Sam, starting suddenly. “Season’s somewhat sudorific,” said Sam, stealthily staunching sweat, shaking sensibly.

“Sartin,” said Sophia, significantly. “Sip some sherbert, Sam?” (Silence sixty seconds.)

“Sire shot sixty sheldrakes, Saturday,” said Sophia.

“Sixty? sho!” said Sam. (Silence seventy seconds.)

“See Sister Susan’s sunflowers,” said Sophia, sociably scattering such stiff silence.

Sophia’s sprightly sauciness stimulated Sam strangely; so Sam suddenly spoke sentimentally, “Sophia, Susan’s sunflowers seem saying, ‘Samuel Short, Sophia Sophronia Spriggs, stroll serenely, sequestered spot, some sylvan shade. Sparkling springs shall sing soul-soothing strains; sweet songsters shall silence secret sighings; super-angelic sylphs shall—’”

Sophia snickered, so Sam stopped.

“Sophia,” said Sam solemnly.

“Sam,” said Sophia.

“Sophia, stop smiling. Sam Short’s sincere. Sam’s seeking some spouse, Sophia!”

Sophia stood silent.

“Speak! Sophia, speak! Such suspense stimulates sorrow.”

“Seek Sire, Sam, seek Sire!”

Sam sought Sire Spriggs. Sire Spriggs said, “Sartin.”

So Sophia Sophronia Spriggs serenely signs Sam’s screeds “Sophia Sophronia Spriggs Short.”

* * * * *

Theophilus Thistle, the successful thistle sifter, in sifting a sieve full of unsifted thistles, thrust three thousand thistles through the thick of his thumb. Now if Theophilus Thistle, the _successful_ thistle sifter, in sifting a sieve full of unsifted thistles thrust three thousand thistles through the thick of _his_ thumb, see that _thou_, in sifting a sieve full of unsifted thistles, thrust not three thousand thistles through the thick of _thy_ thumb.

* * * * *

There was a man named Bill. The said Bill owned a bill-board and he also owed a board-bill. Bill’s board-bill fell due, but owing to the fact that Bill’s bill-board held all his money, the said Bill was unable to settle the board-bill. Bill’s landlady was much bored with Bill, with Bill’s board-bill and with Bill’s bill-board. Bill also became bored with himself, bored with his landlady, bored with his board-bill, and bored with his bill-board. So Bill, bored and bored and bored by her who was also bored and bored and bored, sold his bill-board and paid his board-bill; and thus Bill who was often bored and the board that was often billed and the bill that often bored—Bill, bill-board and board-bill, together with the thrice-bored board-bill lady served to make history, the reading of which continues to bore all owners of bill-boards and owners of board-bills to this day.

* * * * *

Though doubtless written with some immediate political purpose, with which we have no concern, the student of a perfect enunciation will find the following a most helpful exercise.

AIN’T IT THE TRUTH?

BY THREL FALL

Woodrow Wilson works wonders while Windy worldlings weary welkins with What were whilom winful warcries. While wayward Washingtonians without Wit whimper wearisomely, while witless Wretches whine weasel words with will, While woebegone weaklings wobble, Waver, wizen; while weasened warlocks Who want weapons wickedly weave webs, Woodrow who would wither weltering World war works wholesouledly. Woodrow Warps world-peace woof with western Wisdom, whipsaws wayfaring wastrels Who would wantonly wreck. Woodrow Whangs werewolves, watches whisperers, Whales welchers. Woodrow warily Wheedles world-hardened wiseacres Who wrangle. Woodrow without Weakening whacks wooden-headed Whippersnappers who warble. Woodrow’s Welcome World Weal wins war-weary Womankind, wan widows whose warriors Were wasted, wink warmly, winsome Wenches whoop wildly, waltzing Walkyrie-like, worthy wives warble Whimsically. Woodrow withal wakes World wants which were withered. Whangdoodles with warlike ways Would well ’ware Wilson.

—_Los Angeles Times_, March 20, 1919.

* * * * *

FAR-FAMED FAIRY TALE OF FENELLA[1]

(1) A Famous Fish Factor Found himself Father of Five Fine Flirting Females—Fanny, Florence, Fernanda, Francesca, and Fenella. (2) The First Four were Flat-Featured, ill-Favored, Forbidding-Faced, Freckled Frumps; Fretful, Flippant, Foolish, and Flaunting. (3) Fenella was a Fine-Featured, Fresh, Fleet-Footed Fairy; Frank, Free and Full of Fun. (4) The Fisher Failed and was Forced by Fickle Fortune to Forego his Footman, Forfeit his Forefather’s Fine Fields, and Find a Forlorn Farmhouse in a Forsaken Forest. (5) The Four Fretful Females, Fond of Figuring at Feasts in Feathers and Fashionable Finery, Fumed at their Fugitive Father. (6) Forsaken by Fulsome, Flattering Fortune-hunters, who Followed them when Fish Flourished, Fenella Fondled her Father, Flavored their Food, Forgot her Flattering Followers, and Frolicked in Frieze without Flounces. (7) The Father, Finding himself Forced to Forage in Foreign parts for a Fortune, Found he could afford a Fairing For his Five Fondlings. (8) The First Four were Fain to Foster their Frivolity with Fine Frills and Fans, Fit to Finish their Father’s Finances; Fenella, Fearful of Flooring him, Formed a Fancy For a Full, Fresh Flower. (9) Fate Favored the Fish-Factor For a Few days, when he Fell in with a Fog; his Faithful _Filly’s_ Footsteps Faltered, and Food Failed. (10) He Found himself in Front of a Fortified Fortress. Finding it Forsaken, and Feeling himself Feeble and Forlorn with Fasting, he Fed upon the Fish, Flesh and Fowl he Found, Fricasseed and Fried; and when Full, Fell Flat on the Floor. (11) Fresh in the Forenoon he Forthwith Flew to the Fruitful Fields, and, not Forgetting Fenella, he Filched a Fair Flower; when a Foul, Frightful, Fiendish Figure Flashed Forth, “Felonious Fellow!—Fingering my Flower—I’ll Finish you! Go, say Farewell to your Fine, Felicitous Family, and Face me in a Fortnight.” (12) The Faint-hearted Fisher Fumed and Faltered, and Fast was Far in his Flight. (13) His Five daughters Flew to Fall at his Feet, and Fervently Felicitate him. (14) Frantically and Fluently he unfolded his Fate. (15) Fenella, Forthwith, Fortified by Filial Fondness, Followed her Father’s Footsteps, and Flung her Faultless Form at the Foot of the Frightful Figure, who Forgave the Father, and Fell Flat on his Face; For he had Fervently Fallen in a Fiery Fit of love For the Fair Fenella. (16) He Feasted and Fostered her, till, Fascinated by his Faithfulness, she Forgot the Ferocity of his Face, Form and Feature; and Frankly and Fondly Fixed Friday Fifth of February, For the affair to come off. (17) There were present at the wedding, Fanny, Florence, Fernanda, Francesca, and the Fisher. (18) There were Festivity, Fragrance, Finery, Fireworks, Fricasseed Frogs, Fritters, Fish, Flesh, Fowl and Furmenty; Frontignac, Flip, and Fare Fit For the Fastidious; Fruit, Fuss, Flambeaux, Four Fat Fiddlers, and Fifers; and the Frightful Form of the Fortunate and Frumpish Fiend Fell From him, and he Fell at Fenella’s Feet, a Fair-Favored, Fine, Frank Freeman of the Forest! (19) Behold the Fruits of Filial affection!—_Comic Times._

MY M-MADE MEMORY MEDLEY

MENTIONING MEMORY’S MARVELOUS MANIFESTATIONS[2]

(1) Memory Means Mind—Mind Means Memory. (2) Memory Most Mysteriously Makes Mental Memoranda. (3) Matured Metaphysical Meditation Manifests Memory Man’s Mighty Maker’s Manifoldly Marvelous, Magnificent Masterpiece. (4) Memory Makes, Molds, Modifies, Moves, Maintains Mind; Memory Moves Man’s Mouth; Memory Manages Man’s Manipulations. (5) Multitudinous Misfortunes Mark Meager Memory, Municipal Mismanagement, Maritime Mishaps, Mercantile Miscalculations. (6) Meager Memory Means Mystification, Misconception, Misunderstanding, Mournful Mental Malady. (7) Many Men Meditating Merge ’Mid Mystification, Mostly Meaning Mismanaged Memory. (8) Meager Memory Makes Many Men Mere Mute Mummies. (9) Mold Memory, Manage Memory; Make Memory-Meditations Mind-Making Material. Mere Mechanical, Muttering Memory Makes Many Men Mere Meaning-Minus Magpies. (10) Memory Managed Methodically, Manifests Marvelous Might. (11) Many Maddened Masters Murmuringly Mistrust Meritedly Mistrusted Menials’ Muddly Memories. (12) Menials’ Message Mangling Misconduct, Magical Modern Memory Methods Most Materially Mitigate. (13) Memory Methods Master Most Marvelous Medleys. (14) Miss Market-Much Might Memorize Meat, Mustard, Mushrooms, Melons, Marmalade, Milk, Mullets, Mops, Matches, Medicine, Myrrh, Musk, Muslin, Music; Moreover Many Miscellaneous Momentous Messages. (15) Many Men Much Misunderstand Memory Methods, Making Mental Mazes Much More Mysterious; Making Mere Mole-Mounds Mule Maddening-Mountains; Making Minutest Mites Mighty Mammalia. (16) Many Men Mentally Merely Move Mobward, Mingling Mimicked, Meaningless Murmurings ’Midst Misty-Minded Men’s Maniacal Mutterings, Menacing Memory Method’s Mutilation. Mildly, Manfully, Mockingly, Memory Men March, Maintaining Majesty. (17) Mercenary Motives, Mistaken Monetary Management May Make Many Meanly Miss Mentally Masticating Memory Methods. Moral Men Manifesting Manly Motives May Mention Memory’s Marvelous Malleability, Making Memory’s Maximum Man’s Mental Meridian! (18) Murky-Minded, Misanthropic, Monopolizing Men May Malevolently Mutter Many Mischievous, Malice-Molded Maledictions, Mockingly Mistrusting Memory Methods. (19) Memory Methods Master Minutely Many Manuals, Mosaic Maxims, Mediæval Memorables, Masonic Mysteries, Mechanical Movements, Mineral Mixtures, Medicinal Metamorphoses, Musical Measures, Mathematical Materials, Mercantile Managements, Momentary Mementos. (20) Memory Methods Might Make Monarchs, Ministers, Members, Mayors, Magistrates, Mouth Most Mightily, Minus Manuscripts. (21) Memory Methodically Manifested Makes Man Muscularly, Mentally, Morally, Mercantilely, Much More Manly. (22) Memory May Make Metropolitan Manufacturers Manufacture Many Most Magnificent Materials, Merely Marking Mentally Modistes’ Modified Matchless Models. (23) Memory Makes Money-Moving Merchants Mass Many More Money-Mounds. (24) Memory Makes Morose Men Much More Mannerly. Memory Makes Men’s Motto “Mutely Miss Mischievous Meddling.” (25) Memory, Marking Man’s Misguided Mind, Makes Man Merciful. Mingled Mortifications, Minus Merciful Memory, Make Minor Mistakes Miscreant Misdemeanors. (26) Memory, Methodized, Makes More Magnetic, Meltingly Melodious, Meekminded, Modest, Marriageable Maidens. (27) Memory Makes Mothers Manage Minutest, Multitudinously Miscellaneous Matters Meritoriously Maternally. (28) Memory Makes Model Men Matchlessly Master Mimicry. Memory Makes Mimics Mimic Minutely. (29) Mind—Memory! Mockingly, Maddeningly, Manages, Masters, Manacles Men’s Mere Muscular Might. (30) Memory Molds Men’s Musings; Millionaires’ Musings May Mark Moldering Marble Monuments, Mutely Mentioning Magnificent Munificences. (31) Military Men, Musing, May Mark Muskets, Matchless Marksmen, Mortars, Majors, Men, Movements, Maneuvers. (32) Milkmaid’s Musings May Mark Mist-Moistened Meadows, Mirthful Milkmen Merrily Milking, Millers, Mills, Men Mowing, Moving Mud-Mounds, Minding Mares, Managing Managers, Malting; Master’s Mansion, Master Making Market Memos.; Mistress Making Mincemeat; Miss Millie “_Musicking_”; Master Mathew Meeting Miss May Marry-Me. (33) Man’s Misconduct Makes Meditation—_Memory_—Mental Misery. (34) Murderers’ Morbid Minds Meek Morpheus Molests, Making Midnight’s Mysterious Musings Merciless Mental Martyrdoms. (35) Methodical Memorizing Means Mating Mentally—_Mark!_ Minister Manuscript—Manuscript Mission—Mission Money—Money Missionary—Missionary Mohammedan—Mohammedan Meditate—Meditate Misconduct—Misconduct Mediator—Mediator Messiah! Mark, Moreover, Memory Methods Make Mixed Mental Masses Most Marvelously Manageable. Meager Memory, Moderate Memory, Mighty Memory, Method May Magnify Much. (36) Mentioning My M-Made Memory Medley, May Make Many Melancholy Moping Men Manifest Much Merriment. (37) Many Merely Muttering My M-Made Memory Medley May Make Multitudinous Mistakes. (38) My Memory Men May Memorize My Matchlessly Mouth Martyrdomizing M-Made Memory Medley!!!

—WILLIAM STOKES.

* * * * *

If one has a little spare time, he can use it to good advantage in making alliterative exercises for himself. It will enlarge his vocabulary, discipline him in the use of unfamiliar words, and, at the same time, afford him opportunity for linguistic practice for the improvement of his pronunciation, enunciation and articulation. For instance, here are a few crude attempts made by one of the authors when he was lying on a sick-bed and desired a change of mental occupation.

MIGHTY MAJESTIC MIND

MAN’S MUSCULAR, MENTAL, MORAL MASTER

Mind magnificently masters man. Mind majestically manages man’s muscular, mental, moral movements. Man moves materially. Material movements mean motions made muscularly, mechanically. Man’s mechanics move as man’s mind mandates. Mere mechanical-man, muscular-man, means microcosmic majesty, but man’s moral mentality, mysteriously manifests man’s Mighty Maker’s magnificent, matchless majesty. Mind manifestations mean mentation, mystery, method, municipal management, music, melody, multifarious manufactures, market manipulations, Marconi messages, macadamization, motor movements, mechanical mastery, metallic mixtures, muscular motions mentally mandated, maritime maneuvers, magnetic mastery. Men’s mental missteps mean misery, morbidity, moroseness, many moon’s mournful meditations. Man’s mind mismanaged means mental mirages, miserable miserliness, mean marriages. Many men marry mistakenly, merely marking mean mentality, moral mismanagement. Miserable marriages mean morbid mouthings, misleading marital mirages, moral missteps, monotonous months, mean moments, miserable meetings. Mean, malicious, morally morbid, meddling marplots make many marriage mates miserable, mouthing mendacious misstatements, manufacturing mean messages, making matrons mutely meditate mauling mysterious maidens who merrily manipulate meager-minded men. Methodistical, Mennonite maidens, meditating many men’s malodorous matrimonial mishaps, mercilessly meditate maidenhood, mocking marriage misfits. Maidens morally, mentally, muscularly married, majestically move matronward, meeting motherhood merrily. Mighty Majestic Mind made Maiden Mary’s motherhood mysteriously materialize. Moral man’s meditations magnify Maiden Mary’s marvelous motherhood. Mans’, matrons’, maidens’ managed mentations mean mentally-manipulated meritorious monogamous marriages, making mates materially merry, managing maternity modernly. Moreover, man’s managed mentations mean mercantile might, maritime majesty, masterly mechanics, monkish manuscripts, marble mansions, moon maps, martial maneuvers, military marchings, magnificent masquerades, mail movements, mystic materializations, mathematical mazes, Maypole maidens, molded medals, modern medicine, megalithic monuments, musical megaphones, melodramatic monologues, man’s melioration, mellow memories, Mennonite missionaries, merciful mandatories, Messianic masses, metaphysical messages, mighty metaphors, metaphrastic metamorphoses, metallic mercuries, marvelous metropolises, Methodistic morals, monks’ meditations, Mohammedan mosques, miniature minarets, masterful ministers, miraculous mirrors, martial mobilizations, multiplied musicians, marble mosaics, meaningful mottoes. Mendelssohn made manifold music, monkish masses, modulated madrigals, mincing minuets, military marches. Moor mountebanks make money monkey-shining. Melancthon’s managed mentality materialized moral mottoes, manuscripts, mandates, mental manna for mighty monarchs, manifold multitudes. Macbeth’s moral missteps materialized manichean morbidity, malignant moroseness, murderous manifestations, maniacal madness. Merry Maryland’s melody moves men’s, matrons’, maidens’ muscular movements mightily. More meditation might materialize many more m-made mental meanderings.

SOUL SUBLIME

Spirit sees spirit surely. Spirit shuns sensuous symbols, shibboleths, signs, sins. Spirit seeks serenity, sociability, salvation, supreme spiritual standards, splendid sympathy, starlike success. Sin, sensuality, sear, singe, scorch, send suffering, sorrow, sadness. Spirit, soul, soaring supremely, senses slumber soundly. Senses sleep, spirit solves. Soul subjects senses securely—sight, sound, smell, space—storing spirit secrets, sweet sounds, soulful sympathy. Spirit sends soul starward seeking spirit’s shoreless, shining seas sublimely serene. Soul survives sense’s subjugation. Soul seeks successful solutions such staggerers as syncopation, syncretism, syndicalism, symbiosis, symmetricalism, synesthesia, synovitis, syringomyelia, strumæ, stronglyidæ, strobilation, stock swindling, solfatara, solaria, Sivaism, Shintoism, sisymbriums, siphonophora, shunning shilly-shallying, sloppy sentimentality, slippery sneakiness, sulky slovenliness, secret sinfulness, shekel stealing, saucy slandering.

* * * * *

One might write a “Wordy Wabble on Women,” telling how “women wheedle wary woodmen woefully in western, wild Wyoming and Washington. Warring, waspish women wear war-paint wielding willow wands whackingly when weary Willies wantonly waste wages,” and so on. Or he could picture Dauntless Daniel daringly defying Desperate Desmond. A war correspondent might have gained fame a few years ago had he headed his German letter: “Blatant Billy Blusteringly, Belligerently, Bellows Braggingly,” and later he might have told how “British bulldogs beat Billy’s bragging, brutal, bullying battalions; beneficently, benignly, beautifully backing beleaguered Belgium’s bruised, but brave batteries. Billy bemoaned beaten battalions, but Bulldog Britain beamed benignly, bantering Billy’s Brunswick backers, bagging Billy’s belongings, bogging Billy’s boasted bootsteps. Britain’s bulldogs made bragging, boasting Billy bow bendingly before bully belligerents.”

Let not the intellectual student deem this kind of exercise too frivolous. It will be of far greater benefit to him than he is aware, especially if he will read and reread his alliterations, with clear understanding, in accordance with the principles laid down in the earlier part of Chapter I.

Of a different type, but equally useful as exercises in composition, and intelligent and carefully articulated reading, are such compositions as the following. Let the student try to make up something of the kind descriptive of a battle, a rainstorm, an earthquake, etc.

* * * * *

A man whose vocabulary seems to be unlimited when he desires to describe conditions, and whose nights were made sleepless by a switch engine, recently wrote as follows to the railroad company:

Is it absolutely necessary, in discharge of his duty day and night, that the engineer of your yard at the upper terminal bridge should make his engine ding and dong and fizz and spit and clang and bang and buzz and hiss and bell and wail and pant and rant and yowl and grate and grind and puff and bump and click and clank and chug and moan and hoot and toot and crash and grunt and gasp and groan and whistle and wheeze and squawk and blow and jar and perk and rasp and jingle and twang and clack and rumble and jangle and ring and clatter and yelp and croak and howl and hum and snarl and puff and growl and thump and boom and clash and jolt and jostle and shake and screech and snort and snarl and slam and shake and throb and crink and quiver and rumble and roar and rattle and yell and smoke and smell and shriek like hell?—_Labor Clarion_, 1916.

THE HABIT OF SWALLOWING THE “G”

_The Problem_

It is strange why so many people fail to sound the “ing” ending clearly when in reality to do so requires less effort than not to. There is no better way of describing it than the swallowing of the “g.”

Let us take the word “running” and determine the action of the tongue in the proper and improper enunciation of the “ing.”

1. Repeat it as “runnin’” and note the position of the tongue tip at the end of the word. You will find it pressed against the roof of the mouth just back of the upper front teeth. You will also note that the vowel sound “i” is changed to “u.”

2. Now repeat “running.” You will discover the mouth is more open, and the tongue tip just back of the _lower_ front teeth, and the pure vowel quality of “i” is retained.

_Evil Effects_

There are three serious effects upon the person who persists in swallowing his “g’s”:

1. It causes a restricted throat, and consequently a tired one.

2. It causes a stoppage of pure tone, and consequently develops nasality.

3. It shows a lack of care and culture.

_Practice Exercises_

Repeat the following exercises with distinctness and precision:

1. Beng, bang, bawng, bahng, bong, boong.

2. Deng, dang, dawng, dahng, dong, doong.

3. Feng, fang, fawng, fahng, fong, foong.

4. Geng, gang, gawng, gahng, gong, goong, (Hard “g” sound.)

5. Heng, hang, hawng, hahng, hong, hoong.

6. Jeng, jang, jawng, jahng, jong, joong.

7. Keng, kang, kawng, kahng, kong, koong.

8. Leng, lang, lawng, lahng, long, loong.

9. Meng, mang, mawng, mahng, mong, moong.

10. Peng, pang, pawng, pahng, pong, poong.

11. Qeng, qang, qawng, qahng, qong, qoong.

12. Reng, rang, rawng, rahng, rong, roong.

13. Seng, sang, sawng, sahng, song, soong.

14. Teng, tang, tawng, tahng, tong, toong.

15. Veng, vang, vawng, vahng, vong, voong.

16. Weng, wang, wawng, wahng, wong, woong.

17. Yeng, yang, yawng, yahng, yong, yoong.

HOW THE WATER COMES DOWN AT LODORE

BY ROBERT SOUTHEY

Receding and speeding, and shocking and rocking, And darting and parting, and threading and spreading, And whizzing and hissing, and dripping and skipping, And brightening and whitening, and quivering and shivering, And hitting and splitting, and shining and twining, And rattling and battling, and shaking and quaking, And pouring and roaring, and waving and raving, And tossing and crossing, and flowing and growing, And running and stunning, and hurrying and scurrying, And glittering and flittering, and gathering and feathering, And dinning and spinning, and foaming and roaming, And dropping and hopping, and working and jerking, And gurgling and struggling, and heaving and cleaving, And thundering and floundering: And falling and crawling, and sprawling, And driving and riving and striving, And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling, And sounding and bounding and rounding, And bubbling and troubling and doubling, Dividing and gliding and sliding, And grumbling and rumbling and tumbling, And clattering and battering and shattering, And gleaming and streaming and steaming and beaming, And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing, And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping, And curling and whirling and purling and twirling, Retreating and meeting and beating and sheeting, Delaying and straying and playing and spraying, Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing, Recoiling, turmoiling, and toiling and boiling, And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping, And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing, And so never ending but always descending, Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending; All at once, and all o’er, with a mighty uproar, And in this way the water comes down at Lodore.

—_Abridged._

OVERCOMING THE RISING INFLECTION

One of the most effective elements of convincing speech is the _inflection_.

By _inflection_ is meant the glide of the voice to a higher or lower pitch. This glide may be quick and short, or long and slow. It may be a rising or falling glide, or both.

Complaints are constantly being made against the improper use of the “rising inflection.” This misuse of one of the most invaluable agencies for forceful utterance is persistently indulged in by the majority of students. It is a common fault.

Its disastrous effect does not lie merely in ineffectiveness of speech, yet that in itself ought to be sufficient cause for its cure, but rather in its destructibility of the pupil’s will-power and self-confidence. The pupil who has persisted in answering with a question mark in his voice is indelibly marked. He is likely to be dependent instead of independent and dependable; he is groping in the dark for a crutch in order to keep his mental balance.

The most flagrant causes for such improper and inexcusable speech may be enumerated under two heads:

_On the Part of the Pupil_

The pupil is not sure of the answer.

The pupil wishes to please the teacher.

The pupil is not sure he has answered enough.

The pupil fears he will make a mistake.

The pupil waits for the teacher to verify his answer.

The pupil is not sure of what he intends to say.

The pupil does not believe what he says. He is in doubt.

The pupil does not concentrate.

The pupil is careless and lazy.

_On the Part of the Teacher_

The teacher throws out suggestive hints of the answer and the pupil answers in guesses.

The teacher’s question has not been clearly put.

The teacher has not definitely planned the lesson and consequently uses the rising inflection too often.

The teacher does not demand definite and clear thought from pupils.

The teacher accepts slovenly work.

The teacher grows calloused to the sound of the inflection because of its never ceasing recurrence.

Is it not a lamentable fact that our schools have not given the proper attention to eradicating this common and inexcusable fault? Even in business and society the cultured ear is continually annoyed by the common use of this abomination.

It is almost unbelievable that, out of twenty-five teachers recently examined, but two were able to distinguish the good and bad qualities of their own voices. Few teachers have ever given serious thought to their own voices as invaluable instruments in the carrying out of their duties.

At one time one of the authors made a careful study of the effect of the teacher’s voice upon pupils. He visited the same grade at the same hour on the same day in two different weeks and in two different school-rooms. This is what he found.

In the first room the children were extremely nervous, restless, unhappy and irritable. In the other room they were quiet, restful, obedient and happy. In the first room the teacher used a hard metallic tone, and usually spoke in quick, short “jabs” of speech. There was little modulation of voice and she seemed to be talking continuously, for when she was silent her harsh tones seemed to continue reverberating in his ears.

In the second room the teacher had splendid poise and a pleasing, well-modulated and natural tone. Her voice as well as her general manner had a soothing effect upon the children, for, at the end of the day, they, as well as herself, were not tired.

How often we hear people around us say of a public speaker: Why doesn’t he speak so that people can hear him? or more clearly and distinctly? etc.

During the training of would-be officers for our speedily required army quite a number were passed as incompetent because their voices were inadequate to give command. Only recently one of the authors was present at a high school military drill. The boy in command had a high, piping voice, of which he had little control, and he was openly laughed at by his fellows to his intense mortification and disgust. A good voice, properly trained and obedient to the will of the personality behind it is an invaluable asset in life to every one.

If one does not possess it, he must gain it, and to accomplish this theory is of little or no avail. The student must practice diligently and persistently. The following exercises are carefully selected for the purpose of giving power and voice control.

_Exercises in Inflectional Agility_

The Rising, Quick, Short Glide

Note: The italicized words are to be given quick, short, rising inflection.

_Attention._

Get on your mark! get set! _go!_

Company, _halt_!

Get ready, aim, _fire_!

Hands _up_!

_Halt!_ who goes there?

Strike _one_, strike _two_; _out_!

All _aboard_!

Good _night_!

Sail _on_! Sail _on_! and _on_!

O _James_! come _here_! come _here_!

_Charge_, Chester, _charge_!

_On_, Stanley, _on_!

Hats _off_! hats _off_! I say.

Now’s _the day_ and now’s _the hour_!

* * * * *

“Yo, _ho_, lads! yo _ho_, yo _ho_! Joy, joy _to all_, for we must _go_, Yo _ho_, lads! yo _ho_, yo _ho_!”

* * * * *

“I love, _ah!_ how I love to ride On the fierce, foaming, bursting tide.”

* * * * *

“To _arms_! they _come_! the _Greek_! the _Greek_!”

“Remember _March_, the ides of March _remember_.”

“_Give_ us, O _give_ us, the man who _sings_ at his work!”

* * * * *

The Counting Exercise

_1_, 2, _3_, 4, _5_, 6, _7_, 8, _9_, 10.

1, _2_, 3, _4_, 5, _6_, 7, _8_, 9, _10_.

1, 2, _3_, 4, 5, _6_, 7, 8, _9_, 10.

(This exercise can be carried on indefinitely.)

Indicate the Inflected Words in the Following Excerpts

We, the People of the United States, in order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquillity, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution of the United States of America.

* * * * *

Reading maketh a full man; conference, a ready man; and writing an exact man.

—FRANCIS BACON: “Of Studies.”

* * * * *

He prayeth well who loveth well Both man, and bird, and beast.

—S. T. COLERIDGE: “Ancient Mariner.”

* * * * *

So nigh is grandeur to our dust, So near is God to man, When Duty whispers low, “Thou must,” The youth replies, “I can.”

—RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

The Falling, Quick, Short Glide

Note: Italicized words are given quick and short falling inflections.

Hold that _line_, hold that _line_, hold that _line hard_.

Good _night_ (a provincialism, meaning disgust or hopelessness).

“Hence! _home_, you idle creature; get you _home_!”

“I am a _Jew_.”

“Laughed at my _losses_, mocked at my _gains_, scorned my _nation_, thwarted my _bargains_, cooled my _friends_, heated mine _enemies_.”

Indicate the Inflected Words in the Following Excerpts

Quoth the raven, “Never more.”

O death, where is thy sting!

No stir in the air, no stir in the sea.

Leave me to my fate.

My heart is awed within me.

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean, roll!

Full fathom five thy father lies.

* * * * *

Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.

—TENNYSON.

* * * * *

“The noise that twenty or thirty lions can make, deliberately bent on making it and roaring all at once, is unbelievable. They throw their heads up and glory in strength of lungs until thunder takes second place, and the listener knows why not the bravest, not the most dangerous of beasts has managed to impose the fable of his grandeur on men’s imagination.”

—TALBOT MUNDY, in “The Ivory Trail.”

* * * * *

We’re foot—slog—slog—slog—sloggin’ over Africa! Foot—foot—foot—foot—sloggin’ over Africa— (Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up and down again!) There’s no discharge in the war!

Seven—six—eleven—five—nine-an’-twenty mile to-day— Four—eleven—seventeen—thirty-two the day before— (Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up and down again!) There’s no discharge in the war!

Don’t—don’t—don’t—don’t—look at what’s in front of you (Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again!) Men—men—men—men—men go mad with watchin’ ’em, An’ there’s no discharge in the war!

—KIPLING.

The Rising Long and Slow Glide

Note: The italicized words are given a long, slow, upward glide.

“_Now, then_,” cried Squeers, from the bottom of the stairway, “are you going to sleep _all day, up there_?”

* * * * *

_Breathes there a man_, with soul so dead, Who never to _himself hath said_, “_This is my own_, my native land!” Whose heart hath ne’er _within him burned_, As home his footsteps he hath turned From wandering _on a foreign strand_? _If such there breathe_, go, mark him well.

—SCOTT.

* * * * *

_Higher still and higher_ From the earth thou springest Like a _cloud of fire_; The blue deep thou wingest And singing still _dost soar, and soaring_ ever singest.

—SHELLEY.

* * * * *

_Sweet_ are the uses of _adversity_, Which, _like the toad_, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a _precious jewel_ in his head; And this our life, _exempt from public haunt_, Finds _tongues_ in trees, _books_ in the running brooks, _Sermons_ in stones, and _good_ in every thing.

—SHAKESPEARE.

Indicate the Inflected Words in the Following Excerpts

There were seen, side by side, the greatest painter and the greatest scholar of the age.

They must upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth.

He has this day surprised the thousands who hung with rapture on his accents, by such an array of talents, such an exhibition of capacity, such a display of powers, as are unparalleled in the annals of oratory; a display that reflects the highest honor on himself—luster upon letters—renown upon parliament—glory upon the country.

—BURKE, on “Sheridan.”

* * * * *

Better to smell the violet cool Than sip the glowing wine; Better to hark a hidden brook Than watch a diamond shine.

Better to sit at a master’s feet Than thrill a listening state; Better suspect that thou art proud Than be sure that thou art great.

The Falling Long and Slow Inflection

Note: The italicized words are given a long, slow, downward glide:

Whoever would _have thought of that_!

Yes, it is gone _forever and ever_.

Well, _did you ever_!

* * * * *

Under the one, _the Blue_; Under the other, _the Gray_.

* * * * *

No, sir! these walls, these columns Shall fly From their firm base _as soon as I_.

* * * * *

These are the sins I fain Would have thee _take away_: _Malice_, and _cold disdain_, _Hot anger_, _sullen hate_, Scorn of _the lowly_, envy of _the great_, And discontent that casts _a shadow gray_ On all the brightness of _the common day_.

Indicate the Inflected Words in the Following Excerpts

He bowed his head, and bent his knee Upon the monarch’s silken stool; His pleading voice arose: “O Lord, Be merciful to me, a fool!”

Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me.

Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.

* * * * *

Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, My very noble, and approved good masters, That I have ta’en away this old man’s daughter, It is most true; true, I have married her.

* * * * *

He loved his country as no other man has loved her; but no man deserved less at her hands.

Tell me not in mournful numbers.

I told you so. And you will, will you?

* * * * *

The Hills, Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun; the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods; rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks, That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, Old ocean’s gray and melancholy waste,— Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man! ... It is ten o’clock: Thus may we see how the world wags: ’Tis but an hour ago, since it was nine; And after an hour more ’twill be eleven; And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot, And thereby hangs a tale. Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee, Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Our faith triumphant o’er our fears, Are all with thee,—are all with thee!

—LONGFELLOW.

_Exercises Containing a Variety of Inflections_

Let each pupil decide for himself what he believes to be the most effective and proper inflections in the following. In doing this it is well to have him state his reason. This act of reasoning will aid him in concentrating upon the thought matter.

* * * * *

The cold feeble dawn of a January morning was stealing in at the windows of the common sleeping room, when Nicholas, raising himself on his arm, looked among the prostrate forms in search of the boy Smike.

“Now, then,” cried Squeer, from the bottom of the stairway, “are you going to sleep all day, up there?”

“We shall be down directly, sir.”

“Down directly! You had better be down directly, or I’ll be down on some of you in less time than directly. Where’s that Smike?”

Nicholas looked round again.

“He is not here, sir.”

“Don’t tell me a lie. He is.”

“He is not. Don’t tell me.”

Squeers bounced into the dormitory, and, swinging his cane in the air ready for a blow, darted into the corner where Smike usually lay at night. The cane descended harmlessly. There was nobody there.

“What does this mean? Where have you hid him?”

“I have seen nothing of him since last night.”

“Come, you won’t save him this way. Where is he?”

“At the bottom of the nearest pond for anything I know.”

—CHARLES DICKENS.

* * * * *

We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

* * * * *

Breathes there a man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, “This is my own, my native land!” Whose heart hath ne’er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned From wandering on a foreign strand? If such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no Minstrel-raptures swell; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim; Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch concenter’d all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonor’d, and unsung.

—SCOTT.

* * * * *

What constitutes a state? Not high-raised battlement or labored mound, Thick wall or moated gate; Not cities proud with spires and turrets crowned; Not bays and broad-armed ports, Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride; Not starred and spangled courts, Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride. No: _men_—high-minded _men_, With powers as far above dull brutes endued In forest, brake, or den, As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude; Men, who their duties know, But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain.

—SIR WILLIAM JONES.

* * * * *

What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculties! In form and moving, how express and admirable! In action, how like an angel! In apprehension, how like a god!

—SHAKESPEARE.

* * * * *

Neither a borrower, nor a lender be; For loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all,—to thine own self be true; And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.

—SHAKESPEARE.

* * * * *

There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows, and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat; And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures.

—SHAKESPEARE.

* * * * *

All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms. And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress’s eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice, With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacle on nose, and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again towards childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness, and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

—SHAKESPEARE.

* * * * *

Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down.

* * * * *

These are the gifts I ask Of thee, Spirit serene: Strength for the daily task, Courage to face the road, Good cheer to help bear the traveler’s load, And, for the hours of rest that come between, An inward joy in all things heard and seen.

—VAN DYKE.

* * * * *

These are the things I prize And hold of dearest worth: Light of sapphire skies, Peace of the silent hills, Shelter of forests, comfort of the grass, Music of birds, murmur of little rills, Shadows of cloud that swiftly pass, And, after showers, The smell of flowers And of the good brown earth,— And best of all, along the way, friendship and mirth.

—VAN DYKE.

* * * * *

The year’s at the spring And day’s at the morn; Morning’s at seven; The hillside’s dew-pearled; The lark’s on the wing; The snail’s on the thorn: God’s in his heaven— All’s right with the world!

—BROWNING.

* * * * *

Oh, to be in England Now that April’s there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unawares, That the lowest boughs and the brush-wood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England—now!

—BROWNING.

* * * * *

Day! Faster and more fast, O’er night’s brim, day boils at last: Boils, pure gold, o’er the cloud-cup’s brim Where spurting and suppressed it lay, For not a froth-flake touched the rim Of yonder gap in the solid gray Of the eastern cloud, an hour away; But forth one wavelet, then another, curled, Till the whole sunrise, not to be suppressed, Rose, reddened, and its seething breast Flickered in bounds, grew gold, then overflowed the world.

—BROWNING.

* * * * *

Oh, such a commotion under the ground When March called, “Ho, there! ho!” Such spreading of rootlets far and wide, Such whispering to and fro. And “Are you ready?” the Snowdrop asked; “’Tis time to start, you know.” “Almost, my dear,” the Scilla replied; “I’ll follow as soon as you go.” Then, “Ha! Ha! Ha!” a chorus came Of laughter soft and low From the millions of flowers under the ground— Yes—millions—beginning to grow.

—From “_Nature in Verse_.” By kind permission of _Silver, Burdett and Company_, Publishers.

* * * * *

My good blade carves the casques of men, My tough lance thrusteth sure, My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure. The shattering trumpet shrilleth high, The hard brands shiver on the steel, The splinter’d spear-shafts crack and fly, The horse and rider reel: They reel, they roll in clanging lists, And when the tide of combat stands, Perfume and flowers fall in showers, That lightly rain from ladies’ hands.

—TENNYSON.

* * * * *

Such a starved bank of moss till, that May-morn, Blue ran the flash across: violets were born! Sky—what a scowl of cloud till, near and far, Ray on ray split the shroud: splendid, a star! World—how it walled about life with disgrace Till God’s own smile came out: that was thy face!

—BROWNING.

* * * * *

The brooklet came from the mountain, As sang the bard of old, Running with feet of silver Over the sands of gold!

Far away in the briny ocean There rolled a turbulent wave, Now singing along the sea-beach, Now howling along the cave.

And the brooklet has found the billow, Though they flowed so far apart, And has filled with its freshness and sweetness That turbulent, bitter heart.

—LONGFELLOW.

* * * * *

A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!

* * * * *

_Marcellus._ Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!

_Bernardo._ In the same figure, like the king that’s dead.

_Marcellus._ Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.

_Bernardo._ Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio.

_Horatio._ Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder.

_Bernardo._ It would be spoke to.

_Marcellus._ Question it, Horatio.

_Horatio._ What art thou that usurp’st this time of night, Together with that fair and warlike form In which the majesty of buried Denmark Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak!

_Marcellus._ It is offended.

_Bernardo._ See, it stalks away!

_Horatio._ Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak! [_Exit Ghost._]

_Marcellus._ ’Tis gone, and will not answer.

_Bernardo._ How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale: Is not this something more than phantasy? What think you on’t?

—SHAKESPEARE.

* * * * *

_Gloucester._ Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down.

_Anne._ What black magician conjures up this fiend To stop devoted charitable deeds?

_Gloucester._ Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, I’ll make a corse of him that disobeys ... Unmannered dog! stand thou, when I command: Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, Or, by Saint Paul, I’ll strike thee to my foot, And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.

—SHAKESPEARE.

* * * * *

_Brutus._ What, Lucius! ho!— I cannot, by the progress of the stars, Give guess how near the day.—Lucius, I say!— I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly.— When, Lucius, when? Awake, I say! What, Lucius!

_Lucius._ Call’d you, my lord?

_Brutus._ Get me a taper in my study, Lucius: When it is lighted, come and call me here.

_Lucius._ I will, my lord.

—SHAKESPEARE.

* * * * *

Note: The following is good for the direct question and direct answer:

_Question._ Hold you the watch to-night?

_Answer._ We do, my lord.

_Question._ Arm’d, say you?

_Answer._ Arm’d, my lord.

_Question._ From top to toe?

_Answer._ My lord, from head to foot.

_Question._ Then saw you not his face?

_Answer._ O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.

_Question._ What, look’d he frowningly?

_Answer._ A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

_Question._ Pale, or red?

_Answer._ Nay, very pale.

_Question._ And fix’d his eyes upon you?

_Answer._ Most constantly ...

_Question._ Stay’d it long?

_Answer._ While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred....

_Question._ His beard was grizzled? no?

_Answer._ It was, as I have seen it in his life, A sable silver’d.

—SHAKESPEARE (dialogue between Hamlet, Marcellus and Bernardo).

* * * * *

“Yo ho, my boys!” said Fezziwig. “No more work to-night. Christmas Eve, Dick. Christmas, Ebenezer! Let’s have the shutters up, before a man can say Jack Robinson!”

You wouldn’t believe how those two fellows went at it! They charged into the street with the shutters—one, two, three—had ’em up in their places—four, five, six—barred ’em and pinned ’em—seven, eight, nine—and came back before you could have got to twelve, panting like race-horses.

“Hilli-ho!” cried old Fezziwig, skipping down from the high desk, with wonderful agility. “Clear away, my lads, and let’s have lots of room here! Hilli-ho! Dick! Chirrup, Ebenezer!”

—DICKENS.

* * * * *

What, what, what? ill luck, ill luck?

* * * * *

I thank thee, good Tubal!—good news, good news! ha, ha!—Where? In Genoa?

EXERCISES DEVELOPING FORCE AND RATE OF SPEECH

The Problem

Here is a classification of people who speak peculiarly, or incorrectly, _as far as voice is concerned_, with exercises for correction.

1. There are those who speak too fast.

2. There are those who speak too slow.

3. There are those who speak too low.

4. There are those who speak too loud.

5. There are those who speak too short with no melody of tone.

Yet all of these may enunciate and pronounce their words well. Besides developing distinctness, we must gain _control_ and _adaptability_ of speech. It is strange, yet true, that many speakers never increase the force or volume of their voices when addressing a large assembly. They use the same quiet, even tone appropriate in addressing a single person. What is the result? They generally bore the audience, even though their thoughts may be brilliant. There is no excuse for this, as a few hours’ study and practice will change it. Above all things one who attempts public speaking must speak so that he can be heard. It is essential, therefore, to give ourselves actual practice exercises which demand force of utterance. Each student should demand of himself daily oral drill upon certain exercises until he has mastered his own particular difficulty.

The best means of accomplishing this is to use material from good literature. In the following pages, under several heads, is a variety of splendid exercises for practice. Commit all, or at least a part, to memory. Thus, while developing your speaking power, you will be cultivating a taste for the best that our literature affords.

_To Develop Rapid Speech_

Note: In developing rapid speech be careful to retain clearness and precision of utterance.

Now clear, pure, hard, bright, and one by one, like hail-stones, Short words fall from his lips fast as the first of a shower, Now in two-fold column Spondee, Iamb, and Trochee, Unbroke, firm-set, advance, retreat, trampling along,— Now with a sprightlier springingness, bounding in triplicate syllables, Dance the elastic Dactylics in musical cadences on; Now their voluminous coil intertangling like huge anacondas, Roll overwhelmingly onward the sesquipedalian words.

—BROWNING.

(The above should be rendered in not less than eighteen seconds.)

* * * * *

You couldn’t pack a Broadwood half a mile— You mustn’t leave a fiddle in the damp— You couldn’t raft an organ up the Nile, And play it in an Equatorial swamp. _I_ travel with the cooking-pots and pails— _I_’m sandwiched ’tween the coffee and the pork— And when the dusty column checks and tails, You should hear me spur the rearguard to a walk! With my “Pilly-willy-winky-winky popp!” (Oh, it’s any tune that comes into my head!) So I keep ’em moving forward till they drop; So I play ’em up to water and to bed.

—KIPLING.

* * * * *

Under his spurning feet, the road, Like an arrowy Alpine river flow’d And the landscape sped away behind Like an ocean flying before the wind; And the steed, like a bark fed with furnace fire, Swept on, with his wild eye full of ire. But, lo! he is nearing his heart’s desire; He is snuffing the smoke of the roaring fray, With Sheridan only five miles away.

—READ.

* * * * *

Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! Rescue my castle before the hot day Brightens to blue from its silvery gray. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!

—BROWNING.

* * * * *

A hurry of hoofs in the village street, A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet: That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light, The fate of a nation was riding that night; And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, Kindled the land into flame with its heat.

—LONGFELLOW.

* * * * *

So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung!— “She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; They’ll have fleet steeds that follow,” quoth young Lochinvar.

There was mounting ’mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran: There was racing and chasing, on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne’er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e’er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?

—SCOTT.

* * * * *

And out of the houses the rats came tumbling. Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats, Grave old plodders, gay young friskers, Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, Cocking tails and pricking whiskers, Families by tens and dozens, Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives— Followed the Piper for their lives. From street to street he piped advancing, And step for step they followed dancing, Until they came to the river Weser, Wherein all plunged and perished!

—BROWNING.

* * * * *

_To Develop Slow Speech_

Far-called, our navies melt away; On dune and headland sinks the fire: Lo, all the pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre! Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget—lest we forget!

—KIPLING.

* * * * *

Do you know the pile-built village where the sago-dealers trade— Do you know the reek of fish and wet bamboo? Do you know the steaming stillness of the orchid-scented glade When the blazoned, bird-winged butterflies flap through? It is there that I am going with my camphor, net, and boxes, To a gentle, yellow pirate that I know— To my little wailing lemurs, to my palms and flying-foxes, For the Red Gods call me out and I must go!

He must go—go—go away from here! On the other side the world he’s overdue! ‘Send the road is clear before you when the Springfret comes o’er you, And the Red Gods call for you!

—KIPLING.

* * * * *

Who hath desired the Sea?—the sight of salt water unbounded— The heave and the halt and the hurl and the crash of the comber wind-hounded? The sleek-barreled swell before storm, gray, foamless, enormous, and growing— Stark calm on the lap of the Line or the crazy-eyed hurricane blowing— His Sea in no showing the same—his Sea and the same ’neath each showing— His Sea as she slackens or thrills? So and no otherwise—so and no otherwise—hillmen desire their Hills!

—KIPLING.

* * * * *

Slowly the mist o’er the meadow was creeping, Bright on the dewy buds glistened the sun, When from his couch, while his children were sleeping, Rose the bold rebel and shouldered his gun.

—OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

* * * * *

Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

—ABRAHAM LINCOLN.

* * * * *

On a quiet autumn morning, in the land which he loved so well, and, as he held, served so faithfully, the spirit of Robert Edward Lee left the clay which it had so much ennobled, and traveled out of this world into the great and mysterious land.

* * * * *

It was roses, roses, all the way, With myrtle mixed in my path like mad: The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway, The church-spires flamed, such flags they had, A year ago on this very day.

—BROWNING.

* * * * *

Toll for the brave! The brave that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave, Fast by their native shore!

—WILLIAM COWPER.

* * * * *

Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me.

Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O sea! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.

—TENNYSON.

* * * * *

Toll! Toll! Toll! Toll! All rivers seaward wend. Toll! Toll! Toll! Toll! Weep for the nation’s friend.

Every home and hall was shrouded, Every thoroughfare was still; Every brow was darkly clouded, Every heart was faint and chill.

...

Oh! the inky drop of poison In our bitter draught of grief! Oh! the sorrow of a nation Mourning for its murdered chief!

Toll! Toll! Toll! Toll! Bound is the reaper’s sheaf— Toll! Toll! Toll! Toll! All mortal life is brief. Toll! Toll! Toll! Toll! Weep for the nation’s chief!

—CARMICHAEL.

* * * * *

Beautiful was the night. Behind the black wall of the forest, Tipping its summit with silver, arose the moon. On the river Fell here and there through the branches a tremulous gleam of the moonlight, Like the sweet thoughts of love on a darkened and devious spirit.

—LONGFELLOW.

_To Develop Loud Speech_

The great bell swung as ne’er before: It seemed as it would never cease; And every word its ardor flung From off its jubilant iron tongue Was “War! _War!_ _WAR!_”

—T. B. READ.

* * * * *

Katherine, Queen of England, come into the court. Where is that infernal boy? As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord. A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse. Jove with us, Jove with us! Forward, the Light Brigade. A light! A light! A light! A light!

* * * * *

The words leapt like a leaping sword: “Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!”

* * * * *

Is the torrent in spate? He must ford or swim. Has the rain wrecked the road? He must climb by the cliff. Does the tempest cry “halt”? What are tempests to him? The Service admits not a “but” or an “if.” While the breath’s in his mouth, he must bear without fail, In the name of the Empress, the Overland Mail.

—KIPLING.

* * * * *

Ye crags and peaks, I’m with you once again! I hold to you the hands you first beheld, To show they still are free. Methinks I hear A spirit in your echoes answer me, And bid your tenant welcome home again! Hail! Hail! Oh, sacred forms, how proud you look! How high you lift your heads into the sky! How huge you are! how mighty, and how free! ... Ye are the things that tower, that shine,—whose smile Makes glad, whose frown is terrible, whose forms, Robed or unrobed, do all the impress wear Of awe divine, whose subject never kneels In mockery, because it is your boast To keep him free! Ye guards of liberty, I’m with you once again! I call to you With all my voice! I hold my hands to you To show they still are free!

—KNOWLES (“William Tell”).

* * * * *

Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volleyed and thundered.

—TENNYSON.

* * * * *

Hurrah! the land is safe, is safe; it rallies from the shock! Ring round, ring round, ye merry bells, till every steeple rock! Let trumpets blow and mad drums beat! let maidens scatter flowers! The sun bursts through the battle smoke! Hurrah! the day is ours!

* * * * *

Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yeomen! Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head: Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood; Amaze the welkin with your broken staves. A thousand hearts are great within my bosom: Advance our standards, set upon our foes! Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George, Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons! Upon them! Victory sits on our helms.

_To Develop Melody of Speech_

Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we not the penalty of Adam, The seasons’ difference,—as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter’s wind, Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, “This is no flattery: these are counselors That feelingly persuade me what I am.” Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything.

—SHAKESPEARE.

* * * * *

I dip and I surge and I swing In the rip of the racing tide, By the gates of doom I sing, On the horns of death I ride. A ship-length overside, Between the course and the sand, Fretted and bound I bide Peril whereof I cry. Would I change with my brother a league inland? (_Shoal! ’Ware shoal!_) Not I!

—KIPLING (“The Bell Buoy”).

* * * * *

Sometimes on lonely mountain-meres I find a magic bark; I leap on board: no helmsman steers: I float till all is dark.

* * * * *

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door— Only this, and nothing more.”

—POE.

* * * * *

Heigh, ho! heigh, ho! unto the green holly: most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: then, heigh, ho! the holly! this life is most jolly.

—SHAKESPEARE.

* * * * *

Waken, lord and ladies gay, On the mountains dawns the day; All the jolly chase is here With hawk and horse and hunting-spear; Hounds are in their couples yelling, Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, Merrily, merrily mingle they, Waken, lords and ladies gay.

—SCOTT.

* * * * *

And the humming-bird, that hung Like a jewel up among The tilted honey-suckle-horns, They mesmerized, and swung In the palpitating air, Drowsed with odors strange and rare, And, with whispered laughter, slipped away, And left him hanging there.

...

By the brook with mossy brink Where the cattle came to drink, They thrilled and piped and whistled With the thrush and bobolink, Till the kine, in listless pause, Switched their tails in mute applause, With lifted heads, and dreamy eyes, And bubble-dripping jaws.

—RILEY.

* * * * *

It was a lover and his lass With a hey and a ho, and a hey nonino! That o’er the green cornfield did pass In the spring-time, the only pretty ring-time, When birds do sing hey ding a ding: Sweet lovers love the Spring.

—SHAKESPEARE.

* * * * *

The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o’er-run With the deluge of summer it receives.

—LOWELL.

* * * * *

O wonderful! How liquid clear The molten gold of that ethereal tone, Floating and falling through the wood alone, A hermit-hymn poured out for God to hear!

—VAN DYKE.

* * * * *

Across the narrow beach we flit, One little sandpiper and I; And fast I gather, bit by bit, The scattered driftwood, bleached and dry.

The wild waves reach their hands for it, The wild wind raves, the tide runs high, As up and down the beach we flit, One little sandpiper and I.

—CELIA THAXTER.

* * * * *

If all the skies were sunshine, Our faces would be fain To feel once more upon them The cooling plash of rain.

If all the world were music, Our hearts would often long For one sweet strain of silence, To break the endless song.

If life were always merry, Our souls would seek relief, And rest from weary laughter In the quiet arms of grief.

—VAN DYKE.

* * * * *

When May bedecks the naked trees With tassels and embroideries, And many blue-eyed violets beam Along the edges of the stream, I hear a voice that seems to say, Now near at hand, now far away, “_Witchery—witchery—witchery._”

—VAN DYKE.

* * * * *

Oh, the throb of the screw and the beat of the screw And the swinging of the ship as she finds the sea. Oh, the haze of the land as it sinks from view, The land that is dear since it harbors you.

* * * * *

Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren’t go a-hunting For fear of little men.

Wee folks, good folks, Trooping all together, Green jacket, red cap, And white owl’s feather!

* * * * *

Who would be A mermaid fair, Singing alone, Combing her hair Under the sea, In a golden curl With a comb of pearl, On a throne?

I would be a mermaid fair; I would sing to myself the whole of the day; With a comb of pearl I would comb my hair; And still as I comb’d I would sing and say, “Who is it loves me? who loves not me?” I would comb my hair till my ringlets would fall Low adown, low adown, From under my starry sea-bud crown Low adown and around, And I should look like a fountain of gold Springing alone With a shrill inner sound, Over the throne In the midst of the hall; Till that great sea-snake under the sea From his coiled sleep in the central deeps Would slowly trail himself sevenfold Round the hall where I sate, and look in at the gate With his large calm eyes for the love of me. And all the mermen under the sea Would feel their immortality Die in their hearts for the love of me.

Who would be A merman bold, Sitting alone, Singing alone Under the sea, With a crown of gold, On a throne?

I would be a merman bold, I would sit and sing the whole of the day; I would fill the sea-halls with a voice of power; But at night I would roam abroad and play With the mermaids in and out of the rocks, Dressing their hair with the white sea-flower; And holding them back by their flowing locks. I would kiss them often under the sea, And kiss them again till they kissed me Laughingly, laughingly; And then we would away, away To the pale-green sea-groves straight and high, Chasing each other merrily.

—TENNYSON.

## CHAPTER VII

CORRECTION OF SPEECH DEFECTS

In addition to the ordinary faults and failings in speech possessed by many in common, there are the special and specific defects, such as stammering, stuttering, lisping, and the like. Every defective is to be pitied, as many professions and occupations are of such a nature as practically to bar men and women who cannot speak well. There are the social and ethical handicaps, also, to be considered, as well as that of economics. The defective speech of a child renders him the butt of his playmates’ rude and often brutal jokes. The sensitive is thus driven away from society. He becomes a solitary and not infrequently his life is ruined.

Speaking of the stutterer, one who is not afflicted by this disease (for so authorities have determined it to be), cannot realize what a terrible life he lives. Dr. Scripture, of Columbia University, New York City, who is one of the greatest authorities on this subject, says: “One boy often threw himself on the floor, begging his mother to tell him how to die. Another boy asked for a letter to his father, telling him to keep the other children from laughing at him. Many stutterers become so sensitive that they imagine everybody is constantly making fun of them. The life of a stutterer is usually so full of sorrow that it can hardly be said to be worth living.”[3]

The speech delinquent is shy, timid, super-sensitive, constantly harboring the thought that people are laughing at him. He gradually shuns society, lives unto himself, and in many instances becomes morally depraved. He contracts a morbid outlook upon life in general, and often is driven to criminality. This statement is no exaggeration. The Board of Education in New York City, after thorough investigation, found that “one school child in four suffers from speech defect,” and that “among boy criminals, nine in ten suffer from the same malady.”

In the Grand Rapids schools classes for the sole purpose of correcting speech defects were organized.

The mechanical arrangement was as follows: Twelve classes were arranged for in five different schools with _a half hour a day_ for each class. The children were grouped according to age, kind of defect, etc., and a teacher with special training for the correction of speech was sent from school to school to give the instruction.

Our plans for this year (1918) are practically the same as for last excepting that we have more special teachers and will be able to reach a greater number of schools and give more time to individual cases.... During the school year of 1916-17, we had under instruction 107 children and obtained the following results:

Normal Almost Normal Improved Total Stuttering 8 10 18 36 Organic Lisping 12 4 3 19 Negligent Lisping 24 5 29 Neurotic Lisping 3 4 5 12 Nasality 3 3 Miscellaneous 3 1 4 Indistinct 2 1 1 4 --- --- --- --- 55 25 27 107

This year we will have under instruction of our special teachers about 250 children, and in addition to this we hope to work for correction and prevention of speech-defects in general by giving instruction in voice culture and corrective phonetics to all of the children of the primary grades. This work will be done by the grade teachers under the supervision of the speech department.[4]

THE PROBLEM

A person with a slight impediment in his speech, due probably to some minor organic disorder, could be much helped by the average teacher, if the latter would give this subject of speech serious consideration. Of course there are cases where, from birth, the child’s speech organs have been impaired, and again, disease or some surgical operation may have caused interference with their proper functioning. In such cases as these a speech specialist is needed and often medical aid as well.

We do not presume to suggest with any degree of authority just what to do and what not to do in such extremities, but rather to present a few fundamental and tried principles which have proved successful in many cases. There are two classes whose speech defects are due to some mental cause—the Stammerers and the Stutterers.

CHARACTERISTICS OF THE STAMMERER

The stammerer finds it extremely difficult to begin to make any audible vocal sound. He stares blankly at you with a very slight, if any, suggestion that he is trying to speak. For the time being he is a mute, with no power to speak, and yet with every means of speaking. This is a pitiful condition in which to be.

The next stage finds the stammerer able, after a snapping of his fingers, or bending of his knees, or lifting up of a foot, or swinging his arms, or after some similar bodily action, to speak along smoothly with no suggestion of an impediment for a considerable period of time, after which he again lapses into silence. The following characteristics are common to most stammerers:

1. He is inclined to speak too fast when started.

2. He has no control over his breathing.

3. He often endeavors to speak during inhalation instead of during exhalation.

4. He is extremely sensitive, always fearing that he is making a mistake.

5. His face usually carries an expression of bitter sorrow and despair.

6. He is usually intensely grateful to any one for a kind word of help.

7. He tries with the utmost skill to conceal his defect.

8. He is usually weak physically.

9. He is usually of a nervous temperament.

10. He usually possesses splendid courage and high ideals, which too often are destroyed because he cannot accomplish them with this weight of halting speech about his neck.

THE STUTTERER

The stutterer, unlike the stammerer, is able to make an audible sound at will. His difficulty lies in his inability to say more than one sound until he has repeated the initial sound from six to fifteen times. It seems that he must get up a certain amount of speech momentum: “B-b-b-bring me th-th-th-that b-b-b-book.” Or, “W-w-w-well, I think it is a v-v-v-very fine day.”

In a large measure the causes of stuttering and stammering are identical. Stammering is stuttering in the superlative degree. What is true of the stammerer is also true of the stutterer, with the exception that the stutterer is less melancholy, and less conscious of his defect.

For both, or either, practice in simple exercises is very necessary, but before specific training is given, the defective should be interviewed concerning his health. If a boy or girl is not given sufficient food and proper food (and such is often the case), there is small chance for speech improvement. Oftentimes it is found that these speech delinquents are playing too hard and wasting the nervous energy which should be utilized in mastering their vocal impediment.

The most successful way of handling these problems is to have the defectives placed in separate classes according to their particular needs and ages. Then get a physician’s diagnosis of each individual case. This diagnosis generally gives the special teacher the knowledge necessary for intelligent correction. The teacher must be patient, gentle, sympathetic and yet determined. She herself must possess ease and real enjoyment in speaking.

_Practice Exercises_

1. Speech defectives must first learn how to relax. They should spend at least ten minutes daily at home lying flat on their backs concentrating the mind on separate parts until the whole body is completely relaxed. This relaxation exercise can and should be carried on daily. At school, a similar though modified exercise should be attempted.

2. They must master diaphragmatic breathing. This exercise should follow the relaxation exercise, for the best results are obtained while lying on the back; the next best while sitting erect.

(a) Inhale slowly, filling lower lobes of lungs first, and then the upper part of chest. While doing this count ten mentally; exhale, counting ten mentally. Repeat five times.

(b) Inhale ten counts again, hold breath five counts, exhale ten counts. Repeat five times.

(c) Inhale slightly, then purse lips to impede the air as it passes out; now give one short puff with spasmodic contraction of abdomen. Repeat five times, inhaling slightly before each puff.

(d) Inhale deeply, then give one long puff with continuous contraction of the abdomen. Repeat five times, inhaling deeply before each puff.

3. Tone production should follow breathing exercises.

(a) Count orally 1-1-1-1-1 with spasmodic abdominal contraction. Repeat five times. Be sure that breath is taken in after each count.

(b) Count orally 1-1-1-1-1 with continuous abdominal contraction. Repeat five times.

(c) Inhale deeply and count orally 1 to 10, stressing every other count. Some students cannot do this unless the teacher keeps time with ruler as a baton, striking some object. Others can only do this by walking slowly, repeating a count on every other footfall. Repeat five times.

(d) Select a lyric with marked rhythm and read in concert in sing-song style. Repeat each stanza five times, giving marked pulsation to each accented syllable. Tennyson’s “Song of the Brook” is especially good for this purpose.

(e) Take a simple prose selection and mark it off in thought groups, and then read slowly and measuredly in concert, giving a fairly long pause between each group. Hamlet’s “Instructions to the Players,” and Lincoln’s “Gettysburg Address” are splendid for such work.

When the defective has learned to speak fluently memorized work, then he should be taught confidence in simple conversational exercises. This work should be, so far as possible, voluntary on the part of the pupil. Let the class form a circle, each one sitting with a sense of ease and relaxation and then, as they are inclined, take part in conversing on some simple, interesting topic. Some will have to be urged to participate while others find great delight in such work.

In regard to training in enunciation, this work has been found to be more successful when given late in the development of the defective. After he has gained confidence in speech ability and cultivated, to some degree, real enjoyment in voice production, he is better prepared to consider this more or less purely technical training. In very extreme cases, however, it will be found necessary to begin speech instruction with him as you would teach a child. Such students must be taught the proper control of lips, tongue and jaw, as though they had never learned speech at all.

Experts who have devoted a lifetime to the study of speech evils and their remedy find a large variety of causes for them, as well as immense diversity in manifestation. One may seem to be born with a tendency to stammering, stuttering or lisping; another can trace the habit to a fright, to imitation, to some exhaustive disease, to nervous timidity, to self-consciousness. But whatever the cause, or however the evil manifests itself, it is a living nightmare, a dreadful, ever-present burden to its victim. Hence parents and teachers should seriously endeavor to correct the habit as speedily as it is discovered. For if it be long-continued it is almost sure to produce shyness, timidity, lack of necessary self-reliance, even moroseness, sullenness and other consequences of perpetual unhappiness.

At the outset let it be understood clearly that all harshness, unkindness, or severity of treatment in word or deed, adds to the evil and renders it more difficult of eradication. The victim of the habit is to be sympathized with, and lovingly encouraged. Yet promptness, firmness and persistency are essential in the production of a cure. The following suggestions should be put into practice, but seldom or never in the presence of strangers, or at any time when they would heighten the sufferer’s embarrassment. They must also be followed with happy cheerfulness.

1. When a victim of one of these habits begins to stammer or stutter, stop him immediately, and say pleasantly but firmly and crisply, “Stop!” Then command: “Take a deep breath! Now hold it! Now think of what you want to say—each word!” Then allow the stutterer to let out his breath; then inhale again deeply, and begin his speech. If he fails, see that he begins again. Practice this as often as you can. Exercises can also be made up, following the same procedure, that will be of incalculable benefit, as, for instance, taking a deep breath, then repeating as much of the alphabet as is possible before breathing again.

2. Cultivate slowness of speech. Insist upon words being spoken slowly, with great distinctness and clearness of articulation. The moment stuttering begins, issue the commands: “Stop! Deep breath; think; breathe out, breathe in; now!” Let the teacher say his words very slowly and constantly encourage the pupil to do the same.

3. Cultivate the habit of rapid thinking. This can be done by a series of exercises played as games if necessary. For instance: “The Game of Names.” The teacher says, “Flower!” The pupil replies, “Rose.” If the teacher has a list ready he can call out his names as quickly as possible, such as, Animal, Tree, Water, Bird, Dog, etc., while the pupil responds, Horse, Oak, River, Sparrow, Bulldog, etc. The interest can be increased by repeating a generic term, requiring a different species for answer. Flower, Animal, Tree, Water, etc., can have a score or more of different answers.

Another exercise in prompt thinking is that of “Association of Ideas.” The teacher gives out a name—whatever occurs to him—as, for instance, “Tree.” The pupil immediately responds, “Leaves.” Then the teacher may add, “Autumn,” and the pupil, “Poetry,” and so on. Or the associations may all be required from the pupil. The words used as _starters_ should be carefully chosen, of course, to meet the mental condition of the pupil; such words as Baby, Doll, Mamma, Bed, House, etc., being good for children of tender years.

Another excellent exercise is that of “Contrasts or Differences,” where the teacher says, “Boy,” and the pupil responds, “Girl.” “Black” calls forth “white,” “heavy” is responded to by “light,” etc.

Equally good is “Finishing Quotations” or “lines”—provided, of course, the pupil is old enough for such a mental exercise. For instance, the teacher says, “Everything is not gold,” while the pupil should respond, “That glitters.” “My country,” would bring out “’Tis of thee,” or “Right or wrong.”

Anything that quickens the intellect and demands ready response is of material help, but the teacher must not forget that, in this mental-promptness exercise, slow and deliberate speech also are essential on his part and that of the pupil.

4. Whenever it is found that a pupil stammers or stutters over a word beginning with a consonant, as, for instance, “bread,” require him to drop out the initial letter and say “read,” or even “ead.” Such words as pie, Tommy, tub, butter, top, bank, tumble, tell, nut, lap, can be used. Let him say, “ie,” “ommy,” “ub,” etc. Then when he is sure of this part of the word, let him, after taking a deep breath, try the full word, saying it again, but always slowly and distinctly.

5. Teach the pupil to sing his sentences. Begin with some simple salutation, as, “Where are you going?” and let it be sung to the notes:

[Illustration: Where are you going? I’m go-ing home.]

Then let a response be sung reversing the music, “I’m going home.” “How do you do?” “Where are your father and your mother?” “How far is it to the market?” are sentences that can be sung. The teacher should invent his own music and words, but insist upon slow, deliberate utterances of tone and word. This is a wonderful help in certain kinds of cases.

6. There are certain simple exercises or calisthenics that materially aid in strengthening the muscles of the head, neck, throat, jaw, etc. The teacher can utilize these according to his best judgment. Any book of calisthenic or physical exercises will suggest those most useful.

7. But above all, in seeking a cure of these distressing evils, use the psychical or spiritual remedy. Give the pupil confidence that God never intended him to be cursed by a stammering, stuttering, or lisping tongue. He is the child of an Infinite and Loving Father. All good is his, if he will learn how to take it. Urge him to restful, trustful reliance upon the tender help of the Great Power outside of himself, in conjunction with the efforts you and he together are making to effect a cure.

To the teacher who needs thorough preparation upon this subject we can commend heartily Dr. E. W. Scripture’s book “Stuttering and Lisping,” published by the Macmillan Company, New York.

## CHAPTER VIII

ENUNCIATION AND PRONUNCIATION

The study of the subject of enunciation should come comparatively late in the development of the pupil, say, beginning with the fifth grade. There are other fundamentals that the pupil should be well grounded in before any definite concentration of effort should be put upon enunciation.

The majority of children and adults are backward in mastering the art of correct speaking, therefore, if the teacher begins by expecting the pupil to be accurate in enunciation, which is really one of the finishing touches, he is in danger of deadening forever the desire for self-expression and enjoyment in speaking.

Pronunciation should precede any drill in enunciation. The pupil is quick to grasp correctness in right pronunciation, and desires it fully, but he cares little for enunciation. Most pupils will shy just a little when you tell them that the proper way to pronounce, or rather to enunciate the word _education_ is ed-u-ca-tion and not ed-ji-ca-tion. Or, take the vowel (a) as in ask, which should be pronounced (ạ). Invariably the untutored will give the vowel the extreme flat sound of (ă) as in hăt, and will think that he is affected if he give it the proper soft, broad sound. He will likely think this even if you compromise with the sounds.

So our policy has been to forego acute criticism in enunciation until the student has acquired considerable momentum in speech-desire. In other words, we are more interested, during his early studies, that he develop and cultivate the desire and will to express, than that he express himself accurately. Then, later, we gradually call his attention to his slovenly speech. Above all things let us beware of quenching the sacred fire of spontaneity, for without that all speech loses its charm and power. Is it not better that the student be stimulated to speech action, even though it be imperfect in some—even in many—respects, than that he be conscious of all his defects and never speak at all?

Clearness and precision in enunciation and pronunciation mark the genuineness and strength of one’s character. Even the brightest person, if he mispronounce his words, is accused of mediocrity and is suspected of being unaccustomed to the society of refined and cultured people. There should be daily systematic drill in childhood when correct speech habits are most quickly and firmly established. Another great advantage of early training is that this is the period when the student is least self-conscious.

There are three essentials for clear and exact enunciation and pronunciation: First, an acute ear; second, diligent practice; and third, constant vigilance. These three essentials should be kept constantly in mind in carrying out the following exercises. We should first see that the student’s ear can detect the correct, pure resonances, and then pursue vigorous practice in them. At first this kind of exercise is tedious and irksome, but with accomplishment comes keen pleasure.

Let us begin with the vowel sounds. For the word exercises we shall take words often mispronounced as well as poorly enunciated. Thus we shall be doing two important things: cultivating the ear, and improving word production.

EXERCISE ONE

The vowels are either long, short, or diphthongal. The resonances of the long vowels begin at the back, passing through the middle, to the front of the mouth. Thus:

[Illustration]

The above represents the approximate and relative openings of the mouth in long vowels.

You notice the mouth aperture is narrow at the back, wide in the middle and narrow again at the front. For practice AW and AH and OO are the most valuable because the two chief difficulties of the student are; first, to open his mouth wide enough, and second, to keep his speech forward on the lips. Usually his speech is throaty. Practice the following in concert and individually in order to secure freedom in controlling the mouth:

1. Repeat E A AW AH O OO consecutively on the same pitch.

2. Change the pitch and repeat on each note of the scale.

3. Give a decided rising inflection to each vowel sound.

4. Give a decided falling inflection to each vowel sound.

5. Give a decided circumflex inflection to each vowel sound.

6. Blend them altogether by the straight inflection in a singing tone.

7. Laugh them He He He He, Ha Ha Ha Ha, Haw Haw Haw Haw, Hah Hah Hah Hah, Ho Ho Ho Ho, Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo.

EXERCISE TWO

In pronunciation there is a right and a wrong way. Some people are so desirous of appearing exact in this matter that they often introduce superfluous sounds. For example, such persons pronounce evil—ē´vĭl, instead of ē´vl; towards—tō-wŏrdz´ instead of tō´-erdz.

This habit of introducing an extra sound that is unnecessary reflects upon the learning of the individual quite as much as the neglecting of a sound that is necessary. Let us not attempt to foster extravagant niceties of speech, but let us cultivate in ourselves and our pupils an appreciation of, and a desire for, pure, substantial, and impressively spoken English, showing them that the real beauty of our language lies in its simplicity and its inherent, convincing power.

EXERCISES IN ENUNCIATION AND PRONUNCIATION

Take up the exercises below in the following manner: First, discover the correct position of tongue, lips and jaw for producing the particular sound under consideration. Second, repeat the sound many times. See that you use your organs of speech properly in regard to the positions indicated at the beginning of each vowel exercise. After the repetition of each sound, let lips, tongue and jaw relax to normal position. Third, in repeating the words be sure the _ictus_ or vocal stroke is properly and decidedly placed.

The main purpose is to develop pure vowel resonance, but inflectional freedom may be cultivated at the same time, if great care is taken not to interfere with the correct vocal positions of tongue, lips and jaw. Beware of a tendency in this direction. (See discussion of Inflection in another part of this book.)

KEY TO PRONUNCIATION

In showing the correct pronunciation of words in the following exercises, the simplest method has been adopted. The words are rewritten with a set of letters which have invariably the same sound and are familiar to everyone.

_Webster’s New International Dictionary_ and Phyfe’s _Words Often Mispronounced_ are the principal authorities consulted. The authors are greatly indebted to these works for help in determining correct pronunciation. The following table gives the diacritical marks used in the following pages:

ā fāde ä fär å åsk a̤ ha̤ll â hâre ă hăt [.=a] pref[.=a]ce a (no mark) final ē ēve [.=e] d[.=e]pend ĕ bĕt ẽ hẽr _e_ recent ī glīde [.=i] [.=i]dea ĭ ĭt ō gō [.=o] [.=o]bey ô absôrb ŏ hŏt ū blūe [.=u] [.=u]nite û sûrge ŭ bŭt o̅o̅ o̅o̅ze o͝o bo͝ok

=Transcriber’s Note:= [.=a] etc were printed as the letter with a macron above and a dot above that. These particular diacriticals are not used on any of the following pages, so the decision was taken not to attempt to represent them in any other way, because there are no corresponding precomposed characters in Unicode and font support for combining marks is often poor.

_The Vowel Sound as in “Awe”_

Note: Tongue sags low and should not move; contact[5] is just a little over half way back of the middle of the mouth; mouth wide; lips well rounded.

_alder_—a̤l´der, not ăl´der. _almost_—a̤l´most, not a̤l´must. _also_—a̤l´so, not ŏl´so. _always_—a̤l´wāz, not a̤l´wuz. _auction_—a̤k´shun, not ŏk´shun. _audience_—a̤´dĭ-ens, not ŏ´jens. _cauliflower_—ka̤´li-flow-er, not kŏ´li-flour. _caldron_—ka̤l´drun, not kŏ´drun. _Chaucer_—Cha̤u´ser, not Chŏw´ser. _Chicago_—Shi-ca̤´gō, not Shi-kŏ´gō. _cornet_—kôr´net, not kôr-net´. _exorbitant_—egz-ôr´bi-tant. _falcon_—fô´kn, not fŏl´kun. _for_—fôr, not fur. _ordeal_—ôr´dēl, not ôr-dēl´. _ordinary_—ôr´dĭn-ā-rĭ.

_The Vowel Sound as in “Star”_

Note: Tongue sags and is widened; contact is low and in center; mouth open wide; lips relaxed almost normally.

_arctic_—ärk´tĭk, not är´tĭk. _arduous_—är´dū-ŭs. _armistice_—är´mĭs-tĭs, not är-mĭs´tĭs. _bazar_—ba-zär´. _encore_—än-kor´, not ĕn´kor. _en route_—än ro̅o̅t´, not ĕn rout. _far_—fär, not fŭr. _father_—fä´thẽr. _soprano_—sō-prä´nō, not sō-prăn´ŏ. _staunch_—stänch, not stănch. _taunt_—tänt, not tănt. _tzar_—zär. _tarlatan_—tär´la-tan, not tarl´tan. _Parsifal_—pär´sif-äl. _partisan_—pär´ti-zăn. _particularly_—pär-tik´yū-lẽr-lĭ.

_The Vowel Sound as in “Ask”_

Note: Tongue sags and is a trifle narrower than the above resonance in ä; mouth open wide; lips relaxed.

_asked_—åskt, not ăskt, nor ăst. _aversion_—å-vẽr´shun, not a-ver´zhun. _bass_ (fish)—bås, not băs. _bath_—båth, not băth. _chant_—chånt, not chănt. _contrast_ (vb.)—kon-tråst´, not kon´trăst. _draft_—dråft, not drăft. _draught_—dråft, not drăft. _glass_—glås, not glăs. _grant_—grånt, not grănt. _grasp_—gråsp, not grăsp. _mast_—måst, not măst. _isinglass_—ī´zĭng-glåss, not ī-zŭn´glăs. _pianist_—pi-ån´ĭst, not pe´a-nist. _aft_—åft, not ăft. _casket_—kås´ket, not kăs´ket.

_The Vowel Sound as in “Can”_

Note: Tongue sags and widens; contact is front; mouth open moderately wide.

_accept_—ăk-sĕpt´, not ĕk-sept´. _accurate_—ăk´kū-rat, not ăk´kẽr-ĭt. _algebra_—ăl´je-bra, not ăl´je-brā. _ally_—ăl-li´, not ăl´li (n) and (vb). _and_—ănd, not ŭn, nor änd. _bade_—băd, not bāde. _calcium_—kăl´sĭ-ŭm, not kăl´shĭ-ŭm. _camera_—kăm´e-ra. _canyon_—kăn´yun. _catchup_—kăch´up, not kĕch´up. _chasm_—kăz´m, not kăz´um. _exact_—egz-ăkt´, not eks-ăkt´. _flannel_—flăn´nĕl, not flăn´nĕn. _harass_—hăr´ăs, not har-răs´. _maritime_—măr´ĭ-tĭm, not mâr´ĭ-tĭm. _olfactory_—ŏl-făk´tō-rĭ, not ŏl-făk´trĭ.

_The Vowel Sound as in “Fade”_

Note: This is a diphthongal or double sound beginning on arch of tongue in middle of mouth and moving forward to just back of upper front teeth; mouth is open wide for first resonance but narrows for second.

_aeronaut_—ā´ẽr-ō-na̤t. _amiable_—ā´mĭ-a-bl. _apparatus_—ăp-pa-rā´tŭs, not ăp-pa-ră´tus. _apricot_—ā´prĭ-cŏt, not ă´prĭ-cŏt. _chaos_—kā´ōs. _Danish_—dā´nĭsh, not dă´nĭsh. _data_—dā´ta, not dă´ta. _disgrace_—dĭs-grās´. _heinous_—hā´nŭs, not hē´nŭs. _naked_—nā´kĕd, not nĕ´kĕd. _acorn_—ā´kŭrn, not ā´kŏrn. _patriotic_—pā´trĭ-ŏt-ĭk, not păt´rĭ-ŏt-ĭk. _plague_—plāg, not plĕg. _slake_—slāk, not slăk. _wary_—wā´rĭ, not wâ´ri. _ignoramus_—ĭg-nō-rā´mŭs, not ĭg-nō-ră´mŭs.

_The Vowel Sound as in “Led”_

Note: Tongue arched; contact at top of arch; mouth moderately open; lips relaxed.

_access_—ăk´sĕs, or ăk-sĕs´. _address_—(n) and (vb) ad-drĕs´. _cemetery_—sĕm´ē-tĕr-ĭ, not sĕmĭ-trĭ. _centennial_—sĕn-tĕn´nĭ-al. _equipage_—ĕk´wĭ-pāj, not ĕ-kwĭp´ĕj. _equitable_—ĕk´wĭ-ta-bl, no ĕ-kwĭ´ta-bl. _every_—ĕv´ẽr-ĭ, not ĕv´rĭ. _evident_—ĕv´ĭ-dĕnt, not ĕv´ĭ-dŭnt. _excellent_—ĕk´sĕl-ĕnt, not ĕk´slŭnt. _preface_—(n) and (vb) prĕf´ās. _legislature_—lĕj´ĭs-lāt-yŭr. _exit_—ĕks´it, not ĕgz´it. _exist_—ĕgz-ĭst´, not ĕks´ĭst. _irreparable_—ĭr-rĕp´a-ra-ble, not ĭr-rē-păr´a-bl. _generally_—jĕn´ẽr-al-ĭ. _instead_—ĭn-stĕd´, not ĭn-stĭd´.

_The Vowel Sound as in “We”_

Note: Tongue arched to upper forward position; mouth aperture narrow. This is a single vowel resonance.

_adhesive_—ăd-hē´sĭv, not ăd-hē´zĭv. _aerial_—ā-ē´rĭ-al. _appreciate_—ap-prē´shĭ-āt, not ap-prē´sĭ-āt. _esprit_—es-prē´. _evil_—ē´vl, not ē´vĭl. _fealty_—fē´al-tĭ. _fetish_—fē´tish. _genii_—jē´nĭ-ī. _grievous_—grē´vŭs, not grē´vĭ-ŭs. _guarantee_—găr-ăn-tē´. _ideal_—ī-dē´al, not ī´dēl. _immediately_—im-mē´dĭ-at-lĭ. _remediable_—re-mē´dĭ-a-bl. _tedious_—tē´dĭ-us, or tēd´yus. _débris_—dā-brē´. _hysteria_—hĭs-tē´rĭ-a, not hĭs-târ´rĭ-a.

_The Vowel Sound as in “Creed”_

Note: The tongue is arched upward; tip at base of lower front teeth. This is a double sound. The mouth has a tendency to narrow on the second resonance.

_believe_—bē-lēv´, not blēv. _cleanly_—(adv) klēn´lĭ. _congenial_—kon-jēn´yal, not kon-jēn´nĭ-al. _evening_—ē´vn-ĭng, or ēv´nĭng. _grease_—(n)—grēs. _grease_—(vb)—grēz, or grēs. _idea_—ī-dē´a, not ī´dē-a. _sleek_—slēk, not slĭk.

_The Vowel Sound as in “Glide”_

Note: This is a double sound. Open mouth on first resonance with contact low and middle, but narrower aperture on second with contact high and front. Tongue is moderately low on first resonance and then arches and widens on second.

_bicycle_—bī´sĭk-l, not bī-sīk´l. _blithe_—blīth (th is sub-vocal). _decisive_—dē-sī´sĭv, not dē-sī´zĭv. _defile_—(n) dē-fīl´, not dē´fīl. _defile_—(vb) de´fīl. _demise_—de-mīz´, not de-mez´. _demoniacal_—dem-o-nī´ak-al, not de-mo´nĭ-ak-al. _derisive_—de-rī´siv, not de´ri-siv. _device_—dē-vīs. _devise_—dē-vīz. _enquiry_—ĕn-kwī´rĭ, not ĕn´kwīr-ĭ. _horizon_—hō-rī´zŏn. _incisive_—ĭn-sī´sĭv. _incisor_—ĭn-sī´zẽr. _indictment_—ĭn-dīt´mĕnt, not ĭn-dīk´ment. _acclimate_—ăk-klī´māt, not ăk´klĭm-āt.

_The Vowel Sound as in “It”_

Note: Tongue arched forward high; tip behind lower front teeth; mouth open wide; contact high and forward.

_bivouac_—bĭv´wăk. _breeches_—brĭch´ĕz. _bristle_—brĭs-l, not brĭst´l. _chivalrous_—shĭv´al-rŭs. _civil_—sĭv´ĭl, not sĭv´l. _commiserate_—kŏm-mĭz´er-āt, not kŏm-mĭs´ẽr-āt. _conflict_—(vb) kŏn-flĭkt´; (n) kŏn´flĭkt. _considerable_—kŏn-sĭd´ẽr-a-bl, not kŏn-sĭd´ra-bl. _delivery_—dē-lĭv´ẽr-ĭ, not dē-lĭv´rĭ. _grisly_—grĭz´lĭ, not grĭs´lĭ. _gristly_—grĭs´lĭ, not grĭz´lĭ. _infinite_—ĭn´fĭn-ĭt, not ĭn-fī´nīt. _itinerary_—ī-tĭn´ẽr-a-rĭ. _licorice_—lĭk´ō-rĭs, not līk´rĭsh. _mischievous_—mĭs´chĭ-vŭs, not mĭs-chē´vŭs. _sinister_—sĭn´ĭs-tẽr, not sĭ-nĭs´tẽr.

_The Vowel Sound as in “On”_

Note: Tongue sags; mouth moderately open; lips rounded; contact low and back of center.

_accost_—ăk-kŏst´, not ăk-kôst´. _broth_—brŏth, not brôth. _choler_—kŏl´ẽr, not kō´lẽr. _column_—kŏl´ŭm, not kŏl´yŭm. _combatant_—kŏm´băt-tănt, not kom-bāt´tant. _chronological_—krŏn-ō-lŏg´ĭk-cal. _comparable_—kŏm´på-rå-bl, not kŏm-pâr´å-bl. _conversant_—kŏn´vẽr-sant, not kŏn-vẽr´sant. _dross_—drŏs. _economic_—ē-kō-nŏm´ĭk or ĕk-ō-nŏm´ĭk. _hollow_—hŏl´lō, not hŏl´la. _homage_—hŏm´āj, not hōm´ĭj. _honest_—ŏn´ĕst, not ôn´nŭst. _honorable_—ŏn´ŏr-a-bl, not ŏn´ra-bl. _hostage_—hŏs´tāj, not hōs´tāj. _hovel_—hŏv´ĕl, not hŭv´ĕl.

_The Vowel Sound as in “Go”_

Note: Tongue sags; mouth moderately wide; lips well rounded; contact midway back. This is a single sound “given to all open syllables.”

_associate_—ăs-sō´shĭ-āt, not ăs-sō´sĭ-āt. _chorist_—kō´rĭst, not kôr´ĭst. _cognomen_—kŏg-nō´mĕn. _commodious_—kŏm-mō´dĭ-ŭs. _comptroller_—kŏn-trō´lẽr. _Corot_—kō-rō´. _corporeal_—kôr-pō´rē-ăl. _decorum_—dē-kō´rŭm, not dē-kôr´ŭm. _deplorable_—dē-plō´ra-bl, not de-plôr´a-bl. _diplomatist_—dĭ-plō´mā-tĭst. _forensic_—fō-rĕn´sĭk, not fôr-ĕn´sĭk. _indecorum_—ĭn-dē-kō´rŭm, not ĭn-dĕk´ō-rŭm. _ivory_—ī´vō-rĭ, not īv´rī. _oral_—ō´ral, not ôr´al. _stony_—stō´nĭ, not stŭn´ĭ. _trophy_—trō´fĭ.

_The Vowel Sound as in “Home”_

Note: This is a double sound. The first resonance is identical to the above single (o) as in (Go), but for the second resonance the contact is the upper back part of mouth with widening of the tongue.

_Azores_—ăz-ōrz´, not ā-zôrz´. _brooch_—brōch, not bro͝och. _console_—kŏn-sōl´. _corps_ (military)—kōr; (pl.) kōrz. _cote_—(n) kōt, not kŏt. _divorce_—dĭv-ōrs´, not dĭv-ôrs´. _homely_—hōm´lĭ, not hŭm´lĭ. _oaths_—ōthz (sub-vocal) not ōths. _sword_—sōrd, not sôrd nor s-wôrd. _won’t_—(will not)—wōnt. _yolk_—yōlk or yōk, not yĕlk. _recourse_—rē-kōrs´. _shewn_—shōn. _shew_—shō. _vaudeville_—vōd´vĭl. _von_—fōn, not vŏn.

_The Vowel Sound as in “Us”_

Note: Tongue sags; open mouth; contact about half way back and midway between the upper and lower jaw.

_adult_—a-dŭlt´, not ăd´ŭlt. _cunning_—kŭn´nĭng, not kŭn´nĭn. _government_—gŭv´ẽrn-mĕnt, not gŭv´ẽr-mĕnt. _hundred_—hŭn´drĕd, not hŭn´dẽrd. _promulgate_—prō-mŭl´gāt. _pumice_—pŭm´ĭs. _illustrate_—ĭl-lŭs´trāt, not ill´ŭ-strāt. _mongrel_—mŭng´grĕl, not mŏng´grĕl. _muskmelon_—mŭsk´mĕlŏn, not mŭsh´mĕlŏn. _nuptial_—nŭp´shal, not nūp´shal. _pumpkin_—pŭmp´kĭn, not pŭnk´ĭn. _supple_—sŭp´l, not so̅o̅´pl.

_The Vowel Sound as in “Use”_

Note: Tongue arched; mouth well open; contact back of upper front teeth for first resonance, then to upper back part of mouth for the second; lips well apart for the first sound and then well rounded and extended for the second with a slight sagging of the tongue. This is a double sound.

_blue_—blū, not blo̅o̅. _rude_—rūd. _rural_—rū´răl, not rûr´l. _nuisance_—nū´săns, not no̅o̅´săns. _newspaper_—nūz´pā-pẽr, not nūs´pā-pẽr. _Tuesday_—Tūz´dā, not To̅o̅z´då. _minutely_—mĭ-nūt´lĭ. _tube_—tūb, not to̅o̅b nor tyub. _tulip_—tū´lĭp, not to̅o̅´lĭp. _usually_—ū´zhū-a-lĭ, not ūzh´lĭ. _virtue_—vẽrt´ū, not vẽr´cho̅o̅. _stupid_—stū´pĭd, not sto̅o̅´pŭd. _virtually_—vẽr´tū-al-lĭ, not vert´choo-li. _virulent_—vĭr´yū-lĕnt. _vituperate_—vī-tū´pẽr-āt. _ablution_—ăb-lū´shŭn, not ă-blo̅o̅´shŭn.

_The Vowel Sound as in “Choose”_

Note: Tongue sags slightly with tip at base of lower front teeth; mouth well open; lips well rounded and extended; contact at upper back part of mouth. Notice that this (oo) resonance is the same as the second resonance in (u).

_booth_—bo̅o̅th (sub-vocal). _Booth_ (name)—bo̅o̅th. _food_—fo̅o̅d, not fo͝od. _roof_—ro̅o̅f, not ro͝of. _coupon_—ko̅o̅´pŏn, not kū´pon. _room_—ro̅o̅m, not rŭm nor ro͝om. _broom_—bro̅o̅m, not bro͝om. _hoof_—ho̅o̅f, not ho͝of. _spoon_—spo̅o̅n, not spo͝on. _forsooth_—fōr-so̅o̅th´, not fōr-so̅o̅th´ (sub-vocal). _poor_—po̅o̅r, not po͝or. _root_—ro̅o̅t, not ro͝ot. _coop_—co̅o̅p, not co͝op. _tour_—to̅o̅r, not tûr. _tournament_—to̅o̅r´na-mĕnt or tûr´na-mĕnt. _troubadour_—tro̅o̅´ba-door, not tro̅o̅´pa-dûr.