Chapter X: Melodious Reading

What charm and delight surround a sweet, melodious voice, whether of woman or man. Who is there that does not recall such a voice and its influence upon him? Who does not have clinging memories of the voice of the mother, crooning over her babe, or singing a sweet lullaby as it lay at her breast; of a father, softening its strong and resonant power to soothe the restlessness of his little one who was sick; of the blushing maiden, who consciously or unconsciously had learned the immeasurably greater power exercised over her fellows, whether of her own or the opposite sex, by a soft, pure, well-controlled voice, rather than the high-pitched, tense, loud and harsh chatter of her associates. The calm, quiet, soft and low-pitched, though firm, voice of the teacher, the parent, the employer, the salesman, the speaker, the statesman, is far more effective, far more likely to attain its end than the harsh, raucous, loud, too emphatic and high-pitched voice of the uncontrolled, untaught, or careless speaker. And to listen to a reader, be he preacher, lawyer, judge, or orator, reading in public to a large audience, or for the pleasure and instruction of his own loved ones, or a few chosen friends, whose voice is melodious in every cadence, whose every intonation is musical and in good taste, what joy such a reader is able to bestow. How memory thrills as we recall a few readers of this type. Why should they be so few? Why should there be so many harsh, nasal, raucous, high-pitched, unmelodious voices? The reason is found mainly in lack of training, lack of a little thought, indifference to the possession of the finer gifts of life. For every boy and girl has it in his or her power, by the exercise of a little care, a little thought, a little self-restraint, a little time spent in discipline to produce the sweet and charming voice, with clean-cut, distinct, pleasing enunciation and pronunciation that will afford joy during the whole of a long life.

One’s own ear will tell whether his voice is properly pitched, pleasing, melodious, or the opposite. A few minutes spent in speech daily before a looking-glass will forever fix the habit of making the face pleasing; and an hour a day for a month will fix perfect habits of pronunciation and enunciation that will remain through life. When these arts are fixed, then a few hours’ study of the thought of the author and the inflections and modulations of the voice necessary to represent, to convey to the ear of the listener, the full power of that thought, and the reader has equipped himself, herself, to give joy to countless thousands. Is it not worth while to spend a few hours to gain such power?

EXERCISES IN INFLECTION

By inflection is meant the glide of the voice within a word to a higher or a lower pitch. This glide may be quick and short, or long and slow. It may be a rising or a falling glide, or both. The value of inflection rests in its power to make what is said more emphatic, to aid in clear enunciation, to aid in overcoming monotony. On all emphasized words we have an intensified inflection. This is illustrated in Portia’s speech in “The Merchant of Venice.” In studying this excerpt we discover that all the emphasized words have a pronounced inflection. In the first group of words, “If to do were as easy as to _know_ what were good to do,” we find the most intensified inflection is upon the word “know” because this is the most emphatic word of the group. This reveals that inflection is one of the most vital means of emphasis.

In regard to inflection as an aid to clear enunciation, we find that inflection occurs upon the accented syllable of a long word, and if due attention is given to the syllable upon which the accent falls, the word will receive a more perfect utterance. For instance, we can readily see in the following words, which are often mispronounced, the important part that inflection plays in the proper pronunciation of them:

abdomen
abject
acclimate
address
admirable
alias
brigand
caricature
chastisement
chauffeur
combatant
contumely
demoniacal
discourse
exquisite
finance
grimace
herculean
horizon
impious
impotent
incomparable
indisputable
industry
inexplicable
interpolate
inquiry
lyceum
mausoleum
mischievous
obligatory
research
resource
superfluous
traverse
vagary
vehement
vehicle
virago
verbose
virtue
virtually

(_For the correct pronunciations see Webster’s New International Dictionary._)

We readily see that the proper use of inflection cannot help but give variety and contrast to our speech, and this aids immeasurably in overcoming the persistent use of monotones.

We shall take up the different kinds of inflection and illustrate them with appropriate exercises. The student should consider the aim and value of each kind of inflection and then proceed to practice orally the exercises, listening intently to his voice to see that it responds.

_Kinds of Inflection_

Falling Glide in the voice indicates a complete and positive assertion. For example:

“The Prince’s banner wavered, staggered backward, hemmed by foes!”

A command, although punctuated with a question mark, is rendered with a falling glide in the voice. For example:

“Halt! who goes there?” “Speak, what trade art thou?”

Rising Glide in the voice indicates incompleteness and doubt. For example:

“How ‘the fellow by the name of Rowan’ took the letter, sealed
it up in an oilskin pouch, strapped it over his heart, in four
days landed by night off the coast of Cuba from an open boat,
disappeared into the jungle, and in three weeks came out on the
other side of the island, having traversed a hostile country on
foot, and delivered his letter to Garcia, are things I have no
special desire now to tell in detail.”

Circumflex Glide indicates a twist in the voice which reflects a like twist in the mind.

Well, I guess I’ll have to, since you say so.

Exercises for Inflectional Agility:

I find earth not gray but rosy, heaven not grim but fair of hue.
Do I stoop? I pluck a posy. Do I stand and stare? All’s blue.

—BROWNING.

* * * * *

I must have left my book on this table last night. (Read two ways.)

* * * * *

There are three pleasures pure and lasting, and all derived from inanimate things—books, pictures, and the face of nature.

—HAZLITT.

* * * * *

We are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.

* * * * *

What right have you, O passer by the way, to call any flower a weed? Do you know its merits? Its virtues? Its healing qualities? Because a thing is common, shall you despise it? If so, you might despise the sunshine for the same reason.

* * * * *

Oh, yes, I begin to remember you now. Do you really think it true?

* * * * *

Yes, he’s a millionaire. (Read two ways.)

* * * * *

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 burn’d,
As home his footsteps he hath turn’d
From wandering on a foreign strand?
If such there breathe, go, mark him well.

—SIR WALTER SCOTT.

Now clear, pure, hard, bright, and one by one, like the hailstones,
Short words fall from his lips fast as the first of a shower,
Now in two-fold column: Spondæ, Iamb, Trochee,
Unbroken, firm-set, advance, retreat, trampling along,—
Now with a sprightlier springiness, 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.

Resolve!
To keep my health!
To do my work!
To live!
To see to it that I grow and gain and give!
Never to look behind me for an hour!
To wait in weakness and to walk in power;
But always fronting onward to the light.
Always and always facing toward the right.
Robbed, starved, defeated, wide astray—
On, with what strength I have!
Back to the way!

A very interesting and helpful exercise in the study of inflection is the use of the one-word dialogue. The following scene, written by a pupil, is given as an illustration:

_Scene: Midnight; and the two are awakened by a noise._

_She._ Philipe!

_He._ What?

_She._ Burglar!

_He._ Where?

_She._ Bathroom!

_He._ Gun?

_She._ No!

_He._ Sh-h!

_She (fainting)._ Darling!

_He._ Huh! Cat! (_catching her_).

It is by use of tone and inflection that the following exercises are properly rendered.

How are you to-day? Ha. (inquiry, surprise).
I say how are you to-day? Ha. (rising doubt).
Have you suddenly become deaf? Ha. (indignation).
I have been trying to find out how Ha. (satisfaction, laugh).
you are to-day.
I am glad you heard me. Ha. (short grunt).
I am on my way to the store. Ha. (do not believe it).
Will you go with me? Ha. (glad to).

A STUDY OF PITCH

Pitch is simply the modulation of the voice as high or low. In natural speech we seldom have more than one word on the same pitch. Note the constant change of pitch in a good conversationalist. In listening to such, we discover what?

_First_: If one idea is expressed on one pitch, its antithesis is instinctively expressed on another pitch. For example: “When our vices _leave us_, we flatter ourselves we _leave them_.” “The prodigal _robs his heir_, the miser _robs himself_.” “_Excess_ of ceremony shows _want_ of breeding.”

_Second_: A quick leap of the mind causes a leap in the voice, or, in other words, it causes a change of pitch. For example: “So you say you are going to—Well, hello, John! How did you get here?”

There can be no definite rules laid down governing Changes of Pitch. If we think progressively, giving ourselves completely to each successive idea, permitting our movement of tone to be the direct outcome of the _action of the mind_ we shall have no difficulty in modulating our pitch.

In reading the following selections, note carefully the natural tendency of the voice to change pitch as the mind leaps from one thought to another.

O larks, sing out to the thrushes,
And thrushes, sing to the sky!
Sing from your nests in the bushes,
And sing wherever you fly.

* * * * *

Then sing, O bird in the tree,
Then sing, skylark in the blue,
Sing loud, sing clear, that the King may hear,
And my soul shall sing with you.

* * * * *

I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under:
And then again I dissolve in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.

* * * * *

I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance.

* * * * *

Away to the hills, to the caves, to the rocks,—
Ere I own a usurper, I’ll couch with the fox;
And tremble, false whigs, in the midst of your glee,
You have not seen the last of my bonnet and me.

* * * * *

If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men’s cottages princes’ palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions. I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps over a cold decree: such a hare is madness, the youth, to skip o’er the meshes of good counsel, the cripple.

—“Merchant of Venice.”

* * * * *

_Extremely high_: Half a league, half a league, half a league onward!

_Very high_: Hats off! along the street they come! The flag is passing by.

_High_: Sail on, sail on, O ship of state!

_Rather high_: Now’s the day and now’s the hour!

_Middle_: In spite of rock and tempest roar.

_Rather low_: No stir in the air, no stir in the sea.

_Low_:

Sunset and evening star
And one clear call for me.

_Very low_: Quoth the raven, “Never more.”

_Low as possible_: O death, where is thy sting!

STUDY IN STRESS

If we read or speak aloud naturally and earnestly, there occurs in our voice a succession of beats or pulsations. If these pulsations occur at regular intervals, our speech will be “singsong” and monotonous. Thus:

a
I wandered lonely cloud
as
and
That floats on high o’er hills,
vales

a
When all at once I crowd
saw

o
A host of golden dills.
daff

The fault is that we are responding to the rhythm of the line instead of the rhythm of the thought. There should be rhythmic action of the _voice_, but, at all times, it should be in perfect harmony with the rhythmic action of the _mind_. Therefore, we see again that correct _reading_ depends upon getting the correct _thought_.

It is very important that we have control of our voice in stress or force of utterance. If a teacher requires one pupil out of a class of twenty to go on an errand for him, there is but one way of clearly expressing that thought in the following sentence: Thus:

Will _you_ please return this book to the library?

If we make prominent any other word than “you,” we shall not be clear as to who shall return the book. Read the above sentence in as many ways as there are different meanings.

Practice reading aloud the following with especial attention to stress. Be sure that the action of the voice corresponds to the action of the mind. Stress is indicated by italics.

_Rouse_, ye Romans! _Rouse_, ye slaves!

* * * * *

_Worcester_, get thee _gone_, for I do see
_Danger_ and _disobedience_ in thine eyes.
You have good leave to _leave_ us; when we need
_Your_ use and counsel, we shall _send_ for you.

—SHAKESPEARE.

Abraham Lincoln used _scripture_ quotations very _frequently_ and _powerfully_.

All _learning_ is _valuable_; all _history_ is _useful_. By knowing what _has_ been we can better _judge_ the _future_; by knowing how men have acted _heretofore_ we can _understand_ how they will act _again_ in _similar_ circumstances.

Place the stress in the following exercises:

It is a compliment to a public speaker that the audience should discuss what he says rather than his manner of saying it; more complimentary that they should remember his arguments, than that they should praise his rhetoric. The speaker should seek to conceal himself behind his subject.

Our country is in danger, but not to be despaired of. Our enemies are numerous and powerful; but we have many friends, determining to be free, and Heaven and earth will aid the resolution. On you depend the fortunes of America. You are to decide the important questions on which rest the happiness and liberty of millions yet unborn. Act worthy of yourselves. The faltering tongue of hoary age calls on you to support your country. The lisping infant raises its suppliant hands, imploring defense against the monster, slavery.

—JOSEPH WARREN, “Boston Massacre.”

Thou know’st, great son,
The end of war’s uncertain, but this certain,
That if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap in such a name
Whose repetition will be dogg’d with curses;
Whose chronicle thus writ: “The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wiped it out,
Destroy’d his country, and his name remains
To the ensuing age abhorred.”

—SHAKESPEARE, “Coriolanus.”

We say to you (our opponents) that you have made the definition of a business man too limited in its application. The man who is employed for wages is as much a business man as his employer; the attorney in a country town is as much a business man as the corporation counsel in a great metropolis; the merchant at the cross-roads store is as much a business man as the merchant of New York; the farmer who goes forth in the morning and toils all day, who begins in the spring and toils all summer, and who by application of brain and muscle to the natural resources of the country creates wealth, is as much a business man as the man who goes upon the Board of Trade and bets upon the price of grain; the miners who go down a thousand feet into the earth, or climb 2,000 feet upon the cliffs, and bring forth from their hiding-places the precious metals to be poured into the channels of trade, are as much business men as the few financial magnates who in a back room corner the money of the world. We come to speak for this broader class of business men.

Oh do not pray for easy lives. Pray to be stronger men. Do not pray for tasks equal to your powers, pray for power equal to your tasks; then the doing of your work shall be no miracle. But you shall be a miracle. Every day you shall wonder at yourself, at the richness of life, which has come to you by the grace of God.

—PHILLIPS BROOKS.

There is so much good in the worst of us,
And so much bad in the best of us,
That it hardly behooves any of us,
To talk about the rest of us.

—ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.

If you would be known, and not know, vegetate in a village; if you would know and not be known, live in a city.

—COLTON.

No man is inspired by the occasion; I never was.

—WEBSTER.

(Does stress fall upon “I,” or upon “never”?)

In men whom men condemn as ill,
I find so much of goodness still;
In men whom men account divine,
I find so much of sin and blot,
I hesitate to draw the line between the two,
Where God has not.

—JOAQUIN MILLER.

ALL IN THE EMPHASIS

BY EDWIN MARKHAM

Written expressly for _Delight and Power in Speech_

The crows flew over my field at morn,
Shouting disdain: “_Such_ corn, SUCH corn!”
Hearing this, I said, “My corn is safe;
When crows deride, the corn is safe.”

But the next hour I looked indeed,
And they were digging up the seed,
And shouting still—not now in scorn
But in delight—“Such _corn_, such CORN!”

A STUDY OF THE PAUSE

When we pause we suspend our speech, but continue our thought. It is a resting place for us better to conceive of the importance either of the thought just expressed or of the one that follows. The mind is busy re-creating a new idea for the one who is listening. Pausing gives time for the speaker to get the new idea and it also gives time for the auditor to hear the new idea. It often occurs that we are more impressive during the interval of pausing than during the interval of speech. The majority of people in ordinary conversation do not use the pause enough. One result is that they are uninteresting and monotonous in speech.

In the following excerpt, taken from an address by Henry Ward Beecher, indicate the frequency of pauses and then tell fully, in your own words, what the successive ideas are upon which the mind is concentrating:

Now, a living force that brings to itself all the resources of
the imagination, all the inspirations of feeling, all that is
influential in body, in voice, in eye, in gesture, in posture,
in the whole animated man, is in strict analogy with the divine
thought and the divine arrangement; and there is no misconception
more utterly untrue and fatal than this: that oratory is an
artificial thing, which deals with baubles and trifles, for
the sake of making bubbles of pleasure for transient effect on
mercurial audiences. So far from that, it is the consecration of
the whole man to the noblest purposes to which one can address
himself—the education and inspiration of his fellow-men by all
that there is in learning, by all that there is in thought, by
all that there is in feeling, by all that there is in all of
them, sent home through the channels of taste and beauty. And
so regarded, oratory should take its place among the highest
departments of education.

In reading the following of what value is pause? Does it indicate distance? Make selections from your own reading which illustrate the importance of the pause.

O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going;
O sweet and far, from cliff and scar,
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!

—TENNYSON.

* * * * *

What is our failure here but a triumph’s evidence
For the fullness of the days? Have we withered or agonized?
Why else was the pause prolonged but that singing might issue thence?
Why rushed the discords in but that harmony should be prized?
Sorrow is hard to bear, and doubt is slow to clear,
Each sufferer says his say, his scheme of the weal and woe;
But God has a few of us whom He whispers in the ear;
The rest may reason and welcome; ’tis we musicians know.

—BROWNING.

* * * * *

O well for the fisherman’s boy,
That he shouts with his sister at play!
O well for the sailor-lad,
That he sings in his boat on the bay!

And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill:
But oh! for the touch of a vanished hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!

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

—TENNYSON.

KIND OF PAUSES

Pauses may be long or short, frequent or seldom.

In the following exercises indicate where and what kind of pauses you would naturally have:

Woman without her man is a brute

Speech is a jewel silence must form its setting

Silas Marner decided to keep the child who was frozen one evening
outside his house in the snow

We will hang together or we will hang separately

Pausing is to speaking what shading is to drawing

The perfection of art is to conceal art

Henry wrote the book

What do you think I’ll shave you for nothing and give you plenty
to eat and something to drink

STUDY OF THE IMPORTANCE OF TONE

When we are speaking in ordinary conversation, or in public address, the tones we use have much to do in making our meaning clear. How often a person, merely by the tone of his voice, conveys an entirely different meaning than was intended. He is accused of being sarcastic when he had no intention that his remark should be so regarded.

Let us remember that in whatever state of mind we may be it is unconsciously reflected in our voice. If we feel timid, embarrassed or self-conscious it is registered in our tone when we speak. On the other hand, if we feel gay, optimistic, earnest and confident these moods are likewise revealed in our speech. Thus we find tone to be an index to character.

The function of tone-color is most important. It reveals the subtle changes of our thoughts and feelings. It can make the hearer see more clearly and feel more deeply what you say. Nothing so quickly reveals your sincerity of purpose as the tone of your voice. It is the source of the greatest pleasure to the hearer. It marks you as a cultured person. And best of all it cannot be regulated by rule. If you can express the tone admiration in colloquial language, there is no reason why you cannot express it in the language of a Browning or a Shakespeare.

It is not so much what you say,
As the manner in which you say it;
It is not so much the language you use,
As the tones in which you convey it.

“Come here!” I sharply said,
And the baby cowered and wept;
“Come here!” I cooed and he looked and smiled,
And straight to my lap he crept.

The words may be mild and fair,
And the tones may pierce like a dart;
The words may be soft as the summer air,
And the tones may break the heart.

For _words_ but come from the mind,
And grow by study and art;
But the _tones_ leap forth from the inner self,
And reveal the state of the heart.

Whether you know it or not—
Whether you mean or care,
Gentleness, kindness, love and hate,
Envy and anger are there.

Then would you quarrels avoid,
And in peace and love rejoice,
Keep anger not only out of your words,
But keep it out of your voice.

—SARAH EDWARDS HENSHAW.

* * * * *

In Part II instructions were given in word analysis and thought-grouping. Let the student analyze the words, outline the thought-groups and determine just where the pause naturally falls, and whether the interval of rest is long or short, in the following selections. He should also be able to explain just why certain groups are separated by a long, and others by a short, pause.

A MESSAGE TO GARCIA

BY ELBERT HUBBARD

(Extract from _The Philistine_ for March, 1899.)

When war broke out between Spain and the United States, it was necessary to communicate quickly with the leader of the Insurgents. Garcia was somewhere in the mountain fastnesses of Cuba—no one knew where. No mail or telegraph message could reach him. The President must secure his coöperation, and quickly.

What to do!

Some one said to the President, “There’s a fellow by the name of Rowan will find Garcia for you if anybody can.” Rowan was sent for and given a letter to be delivered to Garcia. How “the fellow by the name of Rowan” took the letter, sealed it up in an oilskin pouch, strapped it over his heart, in four days landed by night off the coast of Cuba from an open boat, disappeared into the jungle, and in three weeks came out on the other side of the island, having traversed a hostile country on foot, and delivered his letter to Garcia, are things I have no special desire now to tell in detail.

The point I wish to make is this: McKinley gave Rowan a letter to be delivered to Garcia; Rowan took the letter and did not ask “Where is he at?” 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!”

The following is a one-minute composition by a student, illustrating the power of tone and also of mood suspense:

The lion crept stealthily onward, ever onward, with his eyes fixedly staring at the unfortunate boy who cowered before him. The boy, trembling from head to foot, backed slowly toward a yawning precipice. He was on the edge! The loose earth was slowly crumbling under his feet! He was falling! The earth was coming up to meet him at a terrific rate. Another second, and he would be dashed to death on those rocks below!

Then a sweet voice called to him: “Time to get up, Johnnie.”

A most striking example of the power of suspense is Mark Twain’s story of “The Golden Arm.”

Once ’pon a time dey wuz a monsus mean man, ’en he live ’way out in de prairie all ’lone by hisself, ’cep’n he had a wife. En bimeby she died, en he tuck en toted her way out dah in de prairie en buried her. Well, she had a golden arm—all solid gold, fum de shoulder down. He wuz pow’ful mean—pow’ful; en dat night he couldn’t sleep, caze he want dat golden arm so bad.

When it come midnight he couldn’t stan’ it no mo; so he git up, he did, en tuck his lantern en shoved out throo de storm en dug her up en got de golden arm; en he bent his head down ’gin de win’, en plowed, en plowed, en plowed throo de snow. Den all on a sudden he stop (make a considerable pause here, and look startled, and take a listening attitude) en say: “My _lan’_, what’s dat!”

En he listen—en listen—en de win’ say (set your teeth together and imitate the wailing and wheezing singsong of the wind), “Bzzz-z-zzz”—en den, way back yonder whah de grave is, he hear a _voice_!—he hear a voice all mix’ up in de win’—can’t hardly tell ’em ’part—“Bzzz-zzz—W-h-o—g-o-t—m-y—g-o-l-d-e-n _Arm_?—zzz-zzz—W-H-O G-O-T M-Y G-O-L-D-E-N _ARM_?” (You must begin to shiver violently now.)

En he begin to shiver en shake, en say, “Oh, my! Oh, my lan’! en de win’ blow de lantern out, en de snow en sleet blow in his face en ’mos’ choke him, en he start a-plowin’ knee-deep towards home mos’ dead, he so sk’yerd—en pooty soon he hear de voice agin, en (pause) it is comin’ _after_ him! Bzzz-zzz-zzz—W-h-o—G-o-t—M-y—G-o-l-d-e-n _arm_?”

When he git in de pasture he hear it agin—closter now, en a-comin’!—a-comin’ back dah in de dark en de storm—(repeat the wind and the voice). When he git to de house he rush upstairs en jump in de bed en kiver up, head and years, en lay dah shiverin’ en shakin’—en den way out dah he hear it _ag’in_!—en _a-comin’_! En bimeby he hear (pause—awed, listening attitude)—pat—pat—pat—hit’s _a-comin’ upstairs_! Den he hear de latch, en he know it’s in de room!

Den pooty soon he know it’s _a-standin’ by his bed_! (Pause.) Den—he know it’s _a-bendin’ down over him_—en he cain’t skasely git his breath! Den—den—he seem to feel somethin’ _c-o-l-d_, right down ’most agin his head! (Pause.)

Den de voice say, _right at his ear_—“W-h-o—g-o-t—m-y—g-o-l-d-e-n _arm_?” (You must wail it out plaintively and accusingly; then you stare steadily and impressively into the face of the farthest-gone auditor—a girl preferably—and let that awe-inspiring pause begin to build itself in the deep hush. When it has reached exactly the right length, jump suddenly at that girl and yell, “_You’ve got it!_” If you’ve got the _pause_ right, she’ll fetch a dear little yelp and spring right out of her shoes. But you must get the pause right; and you will find it the most troublesome and aggravating and uncertain thing you ever undertook.)

* * * * *

The student may give himself fine exercise by choosing any one of the following moods and writing a one-minute composition upon it. Then let him read it aloud with the appropriate tone:

Admiration, Appeal, Argument, Comparison, Challenge, Command,
Excitement, Geniality, Solemnity, Reproof, Modesty, Contempt,
Encouragement, Determination, Affection, Pity, Joy, Gloom,
Hate, Friendliness, Aspiration, Warning, Meditation, Horror,
Belittlement, Exultation, Despair, Confusion, Calmness,
Indifference, Suspense, Fear, Awe, Haste.

A wonderful illustration of “Mood” is afforded in a marvelous poem written by Bartholomew Dowling, at one time the editor of _The Mirror_, in San Francisco, California. It depicts the “heroism of despair,” as, perhaps, it was never presented before or since in all literature. Without commending the sentiment expressed, the authors give this poem a place in their volume as an incomparable example, well worthy of prolonged study, of the power of words to express “mood.” One of the greatest dramatists the world has ever known used to read this poem aloud, daily, for years.

HURRAH FOR THE NEXT THAT DIES![10]

BY BARTHOLOMEW DOWLING

We meet ’neath the sounding rafter,
And the walls around are bare:
As they shout back our peals of laughter,
It seems as the dead were there.
Then stand to your glasses!—steady!
We drink ’fore our comrades’ eyes;
One cup to the dead already:
Hurrah for the next that dies!

Not here are the goblets glowing,
Not here is the vintage sweet;
’Tis cold as our hearts are growing,
And dark as the doom we meet.
But stand to your glasses!—steady!
And soon shall our pulses rise.
One cup to the dead already:
Hurrah for the next that dies!

There’s many a hand that’s shaking,
And many a cheek that’s sunk;
But soon, though our hearts are breaking,
They’ll burn with the wine we’ve drunk.
Then stand to your glasses!—steady!
’Tis here the revival lies;
Quaff a cup to the dead already:
Hurrah for the next that dies!

Time was when we laughed at others;
We thought we were wiser then.
Ha! Ha! let them think of their mothers,
Who hope to see them again.
No! Stand to your glasses!—steady!
The thoughtless is here the wise;
One cup to the dead already:
Hurrah for the next that dies!

Not a sigh for the lot that darkles,
Not a tear for the friends that sink;
We’ll fall ’mid the wine-cup’s sparkles,
As mute as the wine we drink.
Come! Stand to your glasses!—steady!
’Tis this that the respite buys;
One cup to the dead already:
Hurrah for the next that dies!

Who dreads to the dust returning?
Who shrinks from the sable shore,
Where the high and haughty yearning
Of the soul can sting no more?
No! Stand to your glasses!—steady!
This world is a world of lies;
One cup to the dead already:
Hurrah for the next that dies!

Cut off from the land that bore us,
Betray’d by the land we find,
When the brightest are gone before us,
And the dullest are left behind.
Stand!—stand to your glasses!—steady!
’Tis all we have left to prize;
One cup to the dead already:
Hurrah for the next that dies!