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Public Speaking by Irvah Lester Winter

Part 7 out of 7

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big, or strong, or vicious, that had not succumbed to this man's
fearlessness. This man had a wife, and she did not like him to stay out
late at night, and big as he was, and as brave, he had never dared to
disrespect his wife's wishes, until one evening, meeting some old
friends, he fell to talking over old times with them, their early
adventures and experiences. Finally, looking at his watch, to his
amazement he discovered it was midnight. What to do he knew not. He
didn't dare to go home. If he went to a hotel, his wife might discover
him before he discovered her. Finally, in desperation, he sped to the
menagerie, hurriedly passed through and went to the cage of lions.
Entering this he closed and locked the door, and gave a sigh of relief.
He quieted the dangerous brutes, and lay down with his head resting on
the mane of the largest and most dangerous of them all. His wife
waited. Her anger increased as the night wore on. At the first sign of
dawn she went in search of her recreant lord and master. Not finding
him in any of the haunts that he generally frequented, she went to the
menagerie. She also passed through and went to the cage of the lions.
Peering in she saw her husband, the fearless lion tamer, crouching at
the back of the cage. A look of chagrin came over her face, closely
followed by one of scorn and fine contempt, as she shook her finger and
hissed, "You coward!"

IRVING, THE ACTOR

From "In Lighter Vein," with the permission of Paul Elder and Company,
San Francisco, publishers.

BY JOHN DE MORGAN

Henry Irving, the actor, was always fond of playing practical jokes.
Clement Scott tells of one played by Irving and Harry Montague upon a
number of their associates. Irving and Montague, hitherto the best of
friends, began to quarrel on their way to a picnic, and their friends
feared some tragic consequences. After luncheon both of the men
disappeared. Business Manager Smale's face turned pale. He felt that
his worst fears had been realized. With one cry, "They're gone! What on
earth has become of them?" he made a dash down the Dargle, over the
rocks and bowlders, with the remainder of the picnickers at his heels.
At the bottom of a "dreadful hollow behind the little wood," a fearful
sight presented itself to the astonished friends. There, on a stone,
sat Henry Irving, in his shirtsleeves, his long hair matted over his
eyes, his thin hands and white face all smeared with blood, and
dangling an open clasp-knife. He was muttering to himself, in a savage
tone: "I've done it, I've done it! I said I would, I said I would!" Tom
Smale, in an agony of fear, rushed up to Irving. "For Heaven's sake,
man," he screamed, "tell us where he is!" Irving, scarcely moving a
muscle, pointed to a heap of dead leaves, and, in that sepulchral tone
of his, cried: "He's there! I've done for him! I've murdered him!"
Smale literally bounded to the heap, almost paralyzed with fear, and
began pulling the leaves away. Presently he found Montague lying face
downward and nearly convulsed with laughter. Never was better acting
seen on any stage.

WENDELL PHILLIPS'S TACT

From "Memories of the Lyceum," in "Modern Eloquence," Vol. VI, Geo. L.
Shuman and Company, Chicago, publishers.

BY JAMES BURTON POND

Wendell Phillips was the most polished and graceful orator our country
ever produced. He spoke as quietly as if he were talking in his own
parlor and almost entirely without gestures, yet he had as great a
power over all kinds of audiences as any American of whom we have any
record. Often called before howling mobs, who had come to the lecture-
room to prevent him from being heard, and who would shout and sing to
drown his voice, he never failed to subdue them in a short time. One
illustration of his power and tact occurred in Boston. The majority of
the audience were hostile. They yelled and sang and completely drowned
his voice. The reporters were seated in a row just under the platform,
in the place where the orchestra plays in an ordinary theater. Phillips
made no attempt to address the noisy crowd, but bent over and seemed to
be speaking in a low tone to the reporters. By and by the curiosity of
the audience was excited; they ceased to clamor and tried to hear what
he was saying to the reporters. Phillips looked at them and said
quietly:--

"Go on, gentlemen, go on. I do not need your ears. Through these
pencils I speak to thirty millions of people."

Not a voice was raised again. The mob had found its master and stayed
whipped until he sat down.

Eloquent as he was as a lecturer, he was far more effective as a
debater. Debate was for him the flint and steel which brought out all
his fire. His memory was something wonderful, He would listen to an
elaborate speech for hours, and, without a single note of what had been
said, in writing, reply to every part of it as fully and completely as
if the speech were written out before him. Those who heard him only on
the platform, and when not confronted by an opponent, have a very
limited comprehension of his wonderful resources as a speaker. He never
hesitated for a word or failed to employ the word best fitted to
express his thought on the point under discussion.

BAKED BEANS AND CULTURE

From "Writings in Prose and Verse, by Eugene Field," with the
permission of Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, publishers.

BY EUGENE FIELD

The members of the Boston Commercial Club are charming gentlemen. They
are now the guests of the Chicago Commercial Club, and are being shown
every attention that our market affords.

Last night five or six of these Boston merchants sat around the office
of the hotel and discussed matters and things. Pretty soon they got to
talking about beans; this was the subject which they dwelt on with
evident pleasure.

"Waal, sir," said Ephraim Taft, a wholesale dealer in maple sugar and
flavored lozenges, "you kin talk 'bout your new-fashioned dishes an'
high-falutin' vittles; but when you come right down to it, there ain't
no better eatin' than a dish o' baked pork 'n' beans."

"That's so, b'gosh!" chorused the others.

"The truth o' the matter is," continued Mr. Taft, "that beans is good
for everybody--'t don't make no difference whether he's well or sick.
Why, I've known a thousand folks--waal, mebbe not quite a thousand;
but--waal, now, jest to show, take the case of Bill Holbrook,--you
remember Bill, don't ye?"

"Bill Holbrook?" said Mr. Ezra Eastman. "Why, of course I do. Used to
live down to Brimfield, next to Moses Howard farm."

"That's the man," resumed Mr. Taft. "Waal, Bill fell sick--kinder moped
'round, tired-like, for a week or two, an' then tuck to his bed. His
folks sent for Dock Smith--ol' Dock Smith that used to carry a pair o'
leather saddlebags. Gosh, they don't have no sech doctors nowadays!
Waal, the dock he come; an' he looked at Bill's tongue, an' felt uv his
pulse, an' said that Bill had typhus fever."

Ol' Dock Smith was a very careful, conserv'tive man, an' he never said
nothin' unless he knowed he was right.

"Bill began to git wuss, an' he kep' a-gittin' wuss every day. One
mornin' ol' Dock Smith sez, 'Look a-here, Bill, I guess you're a goner;
as I figger it, you can't hol' out till nightfall.'

"Bill's mother insisted on a con-sul-tation bein' held; so ol' Dock
Smith sent over for young Dock Brainerd. I calc'late that, next
_to_ ol' Dock Smith, young Dock Brainerd was the smartest doctor
that ever lived.

"Waal, pretty soon along come Dock Brainerd; an' he an' Dock Smith went
all over Bill, an' looked at his tongue, an' felt uv his pulse, an'
told him it was a gone case, an' that he had got to die. Then they went
on into the spare chamber to hold their con-sul-tation.

"Waal, Bill he lay there in the front room a-pantin' an' a-gaspin', an'
a wond'rin' whether it wuz true. As he wuz thinkin', up comes the girl
to git a clean tablecloth out of the clothespress, an' she left the
door ajar as she come in. Bill he gave a sniff, an' his eyes grew more
natural like; he gathered together all the strength he had, an' he
raised himself up on one elbow an' sniffed again.

"'Sary,' says he, 'wot's that a-cookin'?'

"'Beans,' says she; 'beans for dinner.'

"'Sary,' says the dyin' man, 'I must hev a plate uv them beans!'

"'Sakes alive, Mr. Holbrook!' says she; 'if you wuz to eat any o' them
beans it'd kill ye!'

"'If I've got to die,' says he, 'I'm goin' to die happy; fetch me a
plate uv them beans.'

"Waal, Sary she pikes off to the doctor's.

"'Look a-here,' says she; 'Mr. Holbrook smelt the beans cookin' an' he
says he's got to have some. Now, what shall I do about it?'

"'Waal, Doctor,' says Dock Smith, 'what do you think 'bout it?'

"'He's got to die anyhow,' says Dock Brainerd, 'an' I don't suppose the
beans 'll make any diff'rence.'

"'That's the way I figger it,' says Dock Smith; 'in all my practice I
never knew of beans hurtin' anybody.'

"So Sary went down to the kitchen an' brought up a plateful of hot
baked beans. Dock Smith raised Bill up in bed, an' Dock Brainerd put a
piller under the small of Bill's back. Then Sary sat down by the bed
an' fed them beans into Bill until Bill couldn't hold any more.

"'How air you feelin' now?' asked Dock Smith.

"Bill didn't say nuthin; he jest smiled sort uv peaceful-like and
closed his eyes.

"'The end hez come,'f said Dock Brainerd sof'ly; 'Bill is dyin'.'

"Then Bill murmured kind o' far-away like; 'I ain't dyin'; I'm dead an'
in heaven.'

"Next mornin' Bill got out uv bed an' done a big day's work on the
farm, an' he ain't bed a sick spell since. Them beans cured him!"

SECRETARY CHASE'S CHIN-FLY

From "Speeches and Addresses of Abraham Lincoln," Current Literature
Publishing Company, New York, publishers.

BY F. B. CARPENTER

"Within a month after Mr. Lincoln's first accession to office," says
the Hon. Mr. Raymond, "when the South was threatening civil war, and
armies of office seekers were besieging him in the Executive Mansion,
he said to a friend that he wished he could get time to attend to the
Southern question; he thought he knew what was wanted, and believed he
could do something towards quieting the rising discontent; but the
office seekers demanded all his time. 'I am,' said he, 'like a man so
busy in letting rooms in one end of his house that he can't stop to put
out the fire that is burning the other.' Two or three years later when
the people had made him a candidate for reflection, the same friend
spoke to him of a member of his Cabinet who was a candidate also. Mr.
Lincoln said that he did not concern himself much about that. It was
important to the country that the department over which his rival
presided should be administered with vigor and energy, and whatever
would stimulate the Secretary to such action would do good. 'R----,'
said he, 'you were brought up on a farm, were you not? Then you know
what a _chin-fly_ is. My brother and I,' he added, 'were once plowing
corn on a Kentucky farm, I driving the horse, and he holding the
plow. The horse was lazy; but on one occasion rushed across the
field so that I, with my long legs, could scarcely keep pace with him.
On reaching the end of the furrow, I found an enormous _chin-fly_
fastened upon him, and knocked him off. My brother asked me what I did
that for. I told him I didn't want the old horse bitten in that way.
"Why," said my brother, "_that's all that made him go!_" Now,' said
Mr. Lincoln, 'if Mr. ---- has a presidential _chin-fly_ biting him,
I'm not going to knock him off if it will only make his department
_go_.'"

REVIEW EXERCISES

EXERCISES

There exercises should be practiced in only a moderately
strong voice, at times perhaps in a very soft voice, and
always with a good degree of ease and naturalness. They
had better be memorized, and as the technique becomes
more sure, less thought may be given to that and more
to the true expression of the spirit of each passage--or
let the spirit from the first, if it will, help the technique.

TONE

For rounding and expanding the voice. To be given in an even
sustained tone, with rather open throat and easy low breathing.
Suspend the speech where pauses are marked, for a momentary
recovery of breath. Keep the breath easily firm. Don't drive the
breath through the tone.

1

Roll on, | thou deep and dark blue Ocean, | roll!
Ten thousand fleets | sweep over thee | in vain;
Man marks the earth | with ruin--his control |
Stops | with the shore.

2

O Tiber, | Father Tiber |
To whom the Romans pray,
A Roman's life, | a Roman's arms,
Take thou in charge | this day |

3

O Rome! | my country! | city of the soul!
The orphans of the heart | must turn to thee,
Lone mother of dead empires! | and control
In their shut breasts | their petty misery.

4

Ring joyous chords!-- | ring out again!
A swifter still | and a wilder strain!
And bring fresh wreaths!-- | we will banish all
Save the free in heart | from our banquet hall.

5

O joy to the people | and joy to the throne,
Come to us, | love us | and make us your own:
For Saxon | or Dane | or Norman | we,
Teuton or Celt, | or what ever we be,
We are all of us Danes | in our welcome of thee, Alexandra!

6

Liberty! | Freedom! | Tyranny is dead!--
Run hence, | proclaim, | cry it about the streets.
Some to the common pulpits, | and cry out,
"Liberty, | freedom, | and enfranchisement!"

INFLECTION

Give these with a rather vigorous colloquial effect, with clear-cut
form, with point and spirit.

1

Armed, say you?
Armed, my lord.
From top to toe?
My lord, from head to foot.
Then saw you not
His face?
Oh, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.
What, looked he frowningly?
A countenance more
In sorrow than in anger.
Pale or red?
Nay, very pale.
And fixed his eyes upon you?
Most constantly.

2

But, sir, the Coalition! The Coalition! Aye, "the
murdered Coalition!" The gentleman asks if I were
led or frighted into this debate by the specter of the
Coalition. "Was it the ghost of the murdered Coalition,"
he exclaims, "which haunted the member from Massachusetts;
and which, like the ghost of Banquo, would never
down?" "The murdered Coalition."

3

Should he have asked Aguinaldo for an armistice? If
so, upon what basis should he have requested it? What
should he say to him? "Please stop this fighting?"
"What for?" Aguinaldo would say; "do you propose
to retire?" "No." "Do you propose to grant us independence?"
"No, not now." "Well, why then, an armistice?"

4

Alas, poor Yorick!--I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of
infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on
his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my
imagination it is! my gorge rises at it.--Where be your
gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,
that were wont to set the table in a roar? Not
one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chop-fallen?
Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her
paint an inch thick, to this favor she must come; make her
laugh at that.

ENUNCIATION

Keep first of all a good form to the vowels. Make consonants
definitely by sufficient action of jaw, tongue, and lips. Keep the
throat easy; avoid stiffening and strain. A particularly light, soft,
pure tone, with fine articulation, may generally be best for practice.

In these first passages, carry the tone well in the head, so as to
give a pure, soft, clear sound to the _m_'s, _n_'s, _ng_'s, and _l_'s.
If need be, these letters may be marked.

1

One cry of wonder,
Shrill as the loon's call,
Rang through the forest,
Startling the silence,
Startling the mourners
Chanting the death-song.

2

One after one, by the star-dogged Moon,
Too quick for groan or sigh,
Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,
And cursed me with his eye.

Four times fifty living men,
(And I heard nor sigh nor groan,)
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
They dropped down one by one.

3

These abominable principles, and this more abominable
avowal of them, demand the most decisive indignation.

4

Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!
Forward! let us do or die!

5

I closed my lids, and kept them close,
And the balls like pulses beat;
For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky
Lay like a load on my weary eye,
And the dead were at my feet.

REVIEW EXERCISES

Give clearly the _k_ and the _g_ forms, making a slight percussion in
the back of the mouth. Finish clearly all main words.

1

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
We could nor laugh nor wail;
Through utter drought all dumb we stood!
I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,
And cried, A sail! a sail!

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
Agape they heard me call:
Gramercy! they for joy did grin,
And all at once their breath drew in,
As they were drinking all.

2

Where dwellest thou?
Under the canopy.
Under the canopy!
Ay!
Where's that?
I' the city of kites and crows.
I' the city of kites and crows!--
Then thou dwellest with daws, too?
No: I serve not thy master.

3

Strike | till the last armed foe | expires!
Strike | for your altars and your fires!
Strike | for the green graves of your sires!
God | and your native land!

For flexibility of the lips, form well the _o_'s and _w_'s.

1

Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind as man's ingratitude.

2

O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful, wonderful!
and yet again wonderful, and after that, out of all hooping!

3

Water, water, everywhere,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, everywhere,
Nor any drop to drink.

4

O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide, wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.

Have care for _t_'s, _d_'s, _s_'s, the _th_ and the _st_'s.

1

Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.

Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,
'Twas sad as sad could be;
And we did speak only to break
The silence of the sea!

2

What loud uproar bursts from that door!
The wedding-guests are there:
But in the garden-bower the bride
And bride-maids singing are:
And hark the little vesper bell,
Which biddeth me to prayer!

3

Farewell, farewell! but this I tell
To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.

Attend especially to _b_'s and in passage 2 to _p_'s. Give a very soft,
slightly echoing continuation to the _ing_ in "dying."

1

Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying:
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

2

Hop, and Mop, and Drop so clear,
Pip, and Trip, and Skip that were
To Mab their sovereign dear,
Her special maids of honor;
Fib, and Tib, and Pinck, and Pin,
Tit, and Nit, and Wap, and Win,
The train that wait upon her.

EMPHASIS

Determine the exact sense and express it pointedly. The primary or
central emphasis takes an absolute fall from a pitch above the general
level; the secondary emphasis takes a circumflex inflection--a fall and
a slight rise. Primary, Hebrew Letter Yod; secondary Gujarati
Vowel Sign li. In the question, the main part of the inflection is
usually rising instead of falling. The effect of suspense or of forward
look requires the slightly upward final turn to the inflection. Note
this in passages 4, 5, and 6.

1

In 1825 the gentleman told the world that the public lands "ought _not_
to be treated as a _treasure_." He now tells us that "they _must_ be
treated as _so much treasure_." What the deliberate opinion of the
gentleman on this subject may be, belongs not to me to determine.

2

Compare the two. This I offer to give you is _plain_ and _simple;_ the
other full of perplexed and intricate _mazes_. This is mild; that
_harsh_. This is found by experience _effectual for its purposes_; the
other is a _new project_. This is _universal_; the other calculated for
_certain colonies only._ This is _immediate in its conciliatory
operation_; the other _remote, contingent_, full of _hazard_.

3

As Csar _loved me_, I _weep_ for him; as he was _fortunate_, I
_rejoice_ at it; as he was _valiant_, I _honor_ him; but as he was
_ambitious_, I _slew_ him. There is _tears_ for his _love_; _joy_ for
his _fortune_; _honor_ for his _valor_; and _death_ for his _ambition_.

4

One moment he stood erect, strong, confident in the years stretching
peacefully out before him; the next he lay wounded, bleeding,
_helpless_, doomed to weary weeks of torture, to silence and the
grave.

5

For no cause, in the very frenzy of wantonness and wickedness, by the
red hand of Murder he was thrust from the full tide of this world's
interest, from its hopes, its aspirations, its victories, into the
visible presence of death; and he _did not quail_.

6

There was no flinching as he charged. He had just turned to give a
cheer when the fatal ball struck him. There was a convulsion of the
upward hand--his eyes, pleading and loyal, turned their last glance to
the flag--his lips parted--he fell _dead_, and at nightfall lay
with his face to the stars. Home they brought him, fairer than Adonis
over whom the goddess of beauty wept.

7

But the gentleman inquires why _he_ was made the object of such a
reply. Why was _he_ singled out? If an attack has been made on the
_East, he_, he assures us, did not _begin_ it; it was made by
the gentleman from _Missouri_. Sir, I answered the gentleman's
speech because I happened to _hear_ it; and because, also, I chose
to give an answer to that speech which, if _unanswered_, I thought
most likely to produce _injurious impressions_.

MELODY

Give musical tone and a fitting modulation, or tune, avoiding the so-
called singsong. Note the occasional closing cadence. Observe the
rhythmic movement, with beat and pause.

1

You think me a fanatic to-night, for you read history not with your
eyes, but with your prejudices. But fifty years hence, when Truth gets
a hearing, the Muse of History will put Phocian for the Greek, and
Brutus for the Roman, Hampden for England, Fayette for France, choose
Washington as the bright consummate flower of our earlier civilization,
and John Brown the ripe fruit of our noonday, then, dipping her pen in
the sunlight, will write in the clear blue, above them all, the name of
the soldier, the statesman, the martyr, Toussaint L'Ouverture.

2

Have you read in the Talmud of old,
In the Legends the Rabbins have told
Of the limitless realms of the air,
Have you read it,--the marvelous story
Of Sandalphon, the Angel of Glory,
Sandalphon, the Angel of Prayer?

3

You remember King Charles' Twelve Good Rules, the eleventh of which
was, "Make no long meals." Now King Charles lost his head, and you will
have leave to make a long meal. But when, after your long meal, you go
home in the wee small hours, what do you expect to find? You will find
my toast--"Woman, a beautiful rod!" Now my advice is, "Kiss the rod!"

4

Then here's to our boyhood, its gold and its gray!
The stars of its winter, the dews of its May!
And when we have done with our life-lasting toys,
Dear Father, take care of Thy children, the Boys!

FEELING

Have great care not to put any strain upon the throat. Breathe low. Be
moderate in force.

1

O mighty Csar! dost thou lie so low? Are all thy conquests, glories,
triumphs, spoils, shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well.

2

Yes, I attack Louis Napoleon; I attack him openly, before all the
world. I attack him before God and man. I attack him boldly and
recklessly for love of the people and for love of France.

3

I am asked what I have to say why sentence of death should not be
pronounced on me according to law. I am charged with being an emissary
of France! and for what end? No; I am no emissary.

4

I see a race without disease of flesh or brain,--shapely and fair,--the
married harmony of form and function,--and as I look, life lengthens,
joy deepens, love canopies the earth.

TONE COLOR

Use the imagination to see and hear. Suit the voice to the sound,
form or movement of your image, or to the mood of mind indicated.
Read with melody and pause. Take plenty of time.

1

There's a lurid light | in the clouds to-night,
In the wind | there's a desolate moan,
And the rage of the furious sea | is white,
Where it breaks | on the crags of stone.

2

The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out:
At one stride | comes the dark;
With far-heard whisper, | o'er the sea,
Off shot | the specter-bark.

3

Is this a time to be gloomy and sad;
When our mother Nature | laughs around;
When even the deep blue heavens | look glad,
And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground?

4

The breeze comes whispering in our ear,
That dandelions | are blossoming near,
That maize | has sprouted, that streams | are flowing,
That the river is bluer | than the sky,
That the robin | is plastering his nest | hard by;
And if the breeze kept the good news back,
For other couriers | we should not lack;
We could guess it all | by yon heifer's | lowing,--
And hark! how clear | bold chanticleer,
Warmed | by the new wine | of the year,
Tells all | by his lusty | crowing!

VARIETY--IN PITCH, TIME, FORCE, COLOR, AND MODULATION

1

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

2

Good work is the most honorable and lasting thing in the
world.

3

O Thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my
fathers, whence are thy beams, O Sun, thy everlasting light!

4

I am thy father's spirit,
Doomed for a certain term to walk the night,
And for the day confined to fast in fires,
Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
Are burnt and purg'd away.

5

"Well, gentlemen, I am a Whig. If you break up the Whig party, where am
_I_ to go?" And, says Lowell, we all held our breath, thinking
where he _could_ go. But, says Lowell, if he had been five feet
three, we should have said, Who _cares_ where you go?

GESTURE

Have the action simple and unstudied, expressing the dominant purpose
rather than illustrating mere words or phrases. Avoid stiltedness and
elaboration. Try to judge where and how the gesture would be made.

I

Nor do not _saw the air_ too much with your _hand, thus_, but use all
gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, the
whirlwind of passion, _you must acquire and beget a temperance_ that
may give it smoothness.

2

In my native town of Athens is a monument that crowns its central
hills--a plain, white shaft. _Deep cut into its shining side is a
name_ dear to me above the names of men, that of a brave and simple
man who died in brave and simple faith. Not for all the glories of New
England--from Plymouth Rock all the way--would I exchange the heritage
he left me in his soldier's death.

3

Sir, when I heard the gentleman lay down principles which place the
murderers of Alton side by side with Otis and Hancock, with Quincy and
Adams, _I thought those pictured lips_ (pointing to the portraits
in the Hall) would have broken into voice to rebuke the recreant
American,--the slanderer of the dead.

4

Suppose I stood at the foot of Vesuvius, or tna, and, seeing a hamlet
or a homestead planted on its slope, I said to the dwellers in that
hamlet, or in that homestead, "_You see that vapor which ascends from
the summit of the mountain._ That vapor may become a dense, black
smoke, that will obscure the sky. _You see the trickling of lava from
the crevices in the side of the mountain._ That trickling of lava
may become a river of fire. _You hear that muttering in the bowels of
the mountain._ That muttering may become a bellowing thunder, the
voice of violent convulsion, that may shake half a continent."

5

And what have we to oppose them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have
been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer
upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light
of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to
entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have
not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive
ourselves longer.

CHARACTERIZATION

1

Learn from real life. Don't go by the spelling. Don't overdo the
dialect.

'E carried me away
To where a dooli lay,
An' a bullet come an' drilled the beggar clean.
'E put me safe inside,
An' just before 'e died:
"I 'ope you liked your drink," sez Gunga Din.

2

Sergeant Buzfuz began by saying that never, in the whole course of his
experience,--never, from the very first moment of his applying himself
to the study and practice of the law, had he approached a case with
such a heavy sense of the responsibility imposed upon him.

3

I'm a walkin' pedestrian, a travelin' philosopher. Terry O'Mulligan's
me name. I'm from Dublin, where many philosophers before me was raised
and bred. Oh, philosophy is a foine study! I don't know anything about
it, but it's a foine study!

4

It is de ladies who do sweeten de cares of life. It is de ladies who
are de guiding stars of our existence. It is de ladies who do cheer but
not inebriate, and, derefore, vid all homage to de dear sex, de toast
dat I have to propose is, "De Ladies! God bless dem all!"

5

What tho' on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin' gray, an' a' that;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine--
A man's a man, for a' that.

For a' that, an' a' that,
Their tinsel show, an' a' that,
The honest man, though e'er sae poor,
Is king o' men for a' that!

6

A keerless man in his talk was Jim,
And an awkward hand in a row,
But he never flunked, and he never lied,--
I reckon he never knowed how.
He seen his duty, a dead-sure thing,--
And he went for it thar and then;
And Christ ain't agoing to be too hard
On a man that died for men.

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