+141. Kinds of Narration.+—Narration consists of an account of happenings, and, for this reason, it is, without doubt, the most interesting of all forms of discourse. It is natural for us all to be interested in life, movement, action; hence we enjoy reading and talking about them. To be convinced that there is everywhere a great interest in narration we need only to listen to conversations, notice what constitutes the subject-matter of letters of friendship, read newspapers and magazines, and observe what classes of books are most frequently drawn from our libraries.
Narration assumes a variety of forms. Since it relates happenings, it must include anecdotes, incidents, short stories, letters, novels, dramas, histories, biographies, and stories of travel and exploration. It also includes many newspaper articles such as those that give accounts of accidents and games and reports of various kinds of meetings. Evidently the field of narration is a broad one, for wherever life or action may be found or imagined, a subject for a narrative exists.
1. Name four different events that have actually taken place in your school in which you think your classmates are interested.
2. Name three events that have taken place in other schools that may be of interest to members of your school.
3. Name four events of general interest that have occurred in your city during the last two or three years.
4. From a daily paper, pick out a narrative that is interesting to you.
5. Select one that you think ought to interest the most of your classmates.
6. Name three national events of recent occurrence.
7. Name three or four strange or mysterious events of which you have heard.
8. Name an actual occurrence that interested you because you wanted to see how it turned out.
9. Would an ordinary account of a bicycle or automobile trip be interesting? If not, why not?
+Theme LXX.+—.Write a letter to a pupil in a neighboring high school, telling about something interesting that has happened in your own school.
(Review forms of letter writing. Consider your use of paragraphs.)
+142. Plot.+—By plot we mean the outline of the story told in a few words. All narratives consist of accounts of connected happenings, in which action on the part of the characters is naturally implied. The principal action briefly told constitutes the plot. The simple plot of Tennyson'sPrincessis as follows:—
A prince of the North, after being affianced as a child to a princess of the South, has fallen in love with her portrait and a lock of her hair. When, however, the embassy appears to fetch home the bride, she sends back the message that she is not disposed to be married. Upon receipt of this word the Prince and two friends, Florian and Cyril, steal away to seek the Princess, and learn on reaching her father's court that she has established a Woman's College on a distant estate. Having got letters authorizing them to visit the Princess, they ride into her domain, where they determine to go dressed like girls and apply for admission as students in the College. They arrive in disguise, and are admitted. On the first day the young men enroll themselves as students of Lady Psyche, who recognizes Florian as her brother and agrees not to expose them, since—by a law of the College inscribed above the gates, which darkness has kept them from seeing—the penalty of their discovery would be death. Melissa, a student, overhears them, and is bound over to keep the secret. Lady Blanche, mother of Melissa and rival to Lady Psyche, also learns of the alarming invasion, and remains silent for sinister reasons of her own. On the second day the principal personages picnic in a wood. At dinner Cyril sings a song that is better fit for the smoking room than for the ears of ladies; the Prince, in his anger, betrays his sex by a too masculine reproof; and dire confusion is the result. The Princess in her flight falls into the river, from which she is rescued by the Prince. Cyril and Lady Psyche escape together, but the Prince and Florian are brought before the Princess. At this important moment despatches are brought from her father saying that the Prince's father has surrounded her palace with soldiers, taken him prisoner, and holds him as a hostage. The Prince, after pleading to deaf ears, is sent away at dawn with Florian, and goes with him to the camp. Meantime during the night, the Princess's three brothers have come to her aid with an army. An agreement is reached to decide the case and end the war by a tournament between the brothers, with fifty men, on one side; the Prince and his two friends, with fifty men, on the other. This happens on the third day. The Prince and his men are vanquished, and he himself is badly wounded.
But the Princess is now gradually to discover that she has "overthrown more than her enemy,"—that she has defeated yet saved herself. She has said of Lady Psyche's little child:—
"I took it for an hour in mine own bedThis morning: there the tender orphan handsFelt at my heart, and seem'd to charm from thenceThe wrath I nursed against the world."
When Cyril pleads with her to give the child back to its mother, she kisses it and feels that "her heart is barren." When she passes near the wounded Prince, and is shown by his father—his beard wet with his son's blood—her hair and picture on her lover's heart,
Her iron will was broken in her mind,Her noble heart was broken in her breast.
From the Princess's cry then, "Grant me your son to nurse," it is but a natural result that she should bring the Prince's wounded men with him into the College, now a hospital. Through ministering to her lover, she comes to love him; and theories yield to "the lord of all."
—Copeland-Rideout:Introduction to Tennyson's Princess.
+Theme LXXI.+—Write the plot of one of the following:—
1.Lochinvar, Scott. 2.Rip Van Winkle, Irving. 3. One story fromA Tale of Two Cities, Dickens. 4.Silas Marner, George Eliot. 5. The last magazine story you have read. 6. Some story assigned by the teacher.
+Theme LXXII.+—Write three brief plots. Have the class choose the one that will make the most interesting story.
+Theme LXXIII.+—Write a story, using the plot selected by the class in the preceding theme.
(Are the events related in your story probable or improbable?)
+143. The Introduction.+—Our pleasure in a story depends upon our clear understanding of the various situations, and this understanding may often be best given by an introduction that states something of the time, place, characters, and circumstances as shown in Section 6. The purpose of the introduction is to make the story more effective, and what it shall contain is determined by the needs of the story itself. The last half of a well-written story will not be interesting to one who has not read the first half, because the first half will contain much that is essential to the complete understanding of the main point of the story. A story begun with conversation at once arouses interest, but care must be taken to see that the reader gets sufficient descriptive and explanatory matter to enable him to understand the story as the plot develops, or the interest will begin to lag.
+Theme LXXIV.+—Write a narrative.
Suggested subjects:— 1. The Christmas surprise. 2. How the mortgage was paid. 3. The race between the steam roller and the traction engine. 4. The new girl in the boarding school. 5. The Boss, and how he won his title.
(Be sure that your introduction is such that the entire situation is understood. Name different points in the story that led you to say what you have in the introduction. Have you mentioned any unnecessary points?)
+144. The Incentive Moment.+—The chief business of a story-teller is to arouse the interest of his readers, and the sooner he succeeds, the better. Usually he tries to arouse interest from the very beginning of his story. He therefore places in the introduction or near it a statement designed to stimulate the curiosity of his readers. The point at which interest begins has been termed the incentive moment. In the following selection notice that the first sentence tells who, when, and where. (Section 6.) The second sentence causes us to ask, what was it? and by the time that is answered we are curious to know what happened and how the adventure ended.
On a mellow moonlight evening a cyclist was riding along a lonely road in the northern part of Mashonaland. As he rode, enjoying the somber beauty of the African evening, he suddenly became conscious of a soft, stealthy, heavy tread on the road behind him. It seemed like the jog trot of some heavy, cushion-footed animal following him. Turning round, he was scared very badly to find himself looking into the glaring eyes of a large lion. The puzzled animal acted very strangely, now raising his head, now lowering it, and all the time sniffling the air in a most perplexed manner. Here was a surprise for the lion. He could not make out what kind of animal it was that could roll, walk, and sit still all at the same time; an animal with a red eye on each side, and a brighter one in front. He hesitated to pounce upon such an outlandish being—a being whose blood smelled so oily.
I believe no cyclist ever "scorched" with more honesty and single-mindedness of purpose. But although he pedaled and pedaled, although he perspired and panted, his effort to get away did not seem to place any more space between him and the lion; the animal kept up his annoyingly calm jog trot, and never seemed to tire.
The poor rider was finally so exhausted from terror and exertion that he decided to have the matter settled right away. Suddenly slowing down, he jumped from his wheel, and, facing abruptly about, thrust the brilliant headlight full into the face of the lion. This was too much for the beast. The sudden glare destroyed the lion's nerve, for at this fresh evidence of mystery on the part of the strange rider-animal, who broke himself into halves and then cast his big eye in any direction he pleased, the monarch of the forest turned tail, and with a wild rush retreated in a very hyena-like manner into the jungle, evidently thanking his stars for his miraculous escape from that awful being. Thereupon the bicyclist, with new strength returning and devoutly blessing his acetylene lamp, pedaled his way back to civilization.
—P.L. Wessels.
+Theme LXXV.+—Write a short imaginative story.
Suggested subjects:— 1. A bicycle race with an unfriendly dog. 2. An unpleasant experience. 3. A story told by the school clock. 4. Disturbing a hornet's nest. 5. The fate of an Easter bonnet. 6. Chased by a wolf.
(Where is the incentive moment? Is it introduced naturally?)
+145. Climax.+—You have already noticed in your reading that usually somewhere near the close of the story, there is a turning point. That turning point is called the climax. At this point, the suspense of mind is greatest, for the fate of the principal character is being decided. If the story is well written as regards the plot, our interest will continually increase from the incentive moment to the climax.
In the novel and the drama, both of which may have a complicated plot, several minor climaxes or crises may be found. There may be a crisis to each single event or episode, yet they should all be a part of and lead up to the principal or final climax. Instead of detracting from, they add to the interest of a carefully woven plot. For example, in theMerchant of Venice, we have a crisis in both the casket story and the Lorenzo and Jessica episode; but so skillfully are the stories interwoven that the minor climaxes do not lessen our interest in the principal one.
In short stories, the turning point should come near the close. There should be but little said after that point is reached. In novels, and especially in dramas, we find that the climax is not right at the close, and considerable action sometimes takes place after the climax has been reached.
A.Point out the climax in each of five stories that you have read.
B.Where is the climax in the following selection?
We spoke, and Sohrab kindled at his taunts,And he too drew his sword; at once they rushedTogether, as two eagles on one preyCome rushing down together from the clouds,One from the east, one from the west; their shieldsDashed with a clang together, and a dinRose, such as that the sinewy woodcuttersMake often in the forest's heart at morn,Of hewing axes, crashing trees—such blowsRustum and Sohrab on each other hailed.And you would say that sun and stars took partIn that unnatural conflict; for a cloudGrew suddenly in heaven, and darked the sunOver the fighters' heads; and a wind roseUnder their feet, and moaning swept the plain,And in a sandy whirlwind wrapped the pair.In gloom they twain were wrapped, and they alone;For both the onlooking hosts on either handStood in broad daylight, and the sky was pure,And the sun sparkled on the Oxus stream.But in the gloom they fought, with bloodshot eyesAnd laboring breath; first Rustum struck the shieldWhich Sohrab held stiff out; the steel-spiked spearRent the tough plates, but failed to reach the skin,And Rustum plucked it back with angry groan.Then Sohrab with his sword smote Rustum's helm,Nor clove its steel quite through; but all the crestHe shore away, and that proud horsehair plume,Never till now denied, sank to the dust;And Rustum bowed his head; but then the gloomGrew blacker, thunder rumbled in the air,And lightnings rent the cloud; and Ruksh, the horse,Who stood at hand, uttered a dreadful cry;—No horse's cry was that, most like the roarOf some pained desert lion, who all dayHath trailed the hunter's javelin in his side,And comes at night to die upon the sand.The two hosts heard that cry, and quaked for fear,And Oxus curdled as it crossed his stream.But Sohrab heard, and quailed not, but rushed on,And struck again; and again Rustum bowedHis head; but this time all the blade, like glass,Sprang in a thousand shivers on the helm,And in the hand the hilt remained alone.Then Rustum raised his head; his dreadful eyesGlared, and he shook on high his menacing spear,And shouted: "Rustum!"—Sohrab heard that shout,And shrank amazed: back he recoiled one step,And scanned with blinking eyes the advancing form;And then he stood bewildered; and he droppedHis covering shield, and the spear pierced his side.He reeled, and, staggering back, sank to the ground,And then the gloom dispersed, and the wind fell,And the bright sun broke forth, and melted allThe cloud; and the two armies saw the pair—Saw Rustum standing, safe upon his feet,And Sohrab wounded, on the bloody sand.
—Matthew Arnold:Sohrab and Rustum.
+Theme LXXVI.+—Write a story and give special attention to the climax.
Suggested subjects:— 1. The immigrant's error. 2. A critical moment. 3. An intelligent dog. 4. The lost key. 5. Catching a burglar. 6. A hard test. 7. Won by the last hit. 8. A story suggested by a picture you have seen.
(Name the incidents leading up to the climax. Is the mind held in suspense until the climax is reached? Are any unnecessary details introduced?)
+146. Conversation in Narration.+—When introduced into narration, a conversation is briefer than when actually spoken. It is necessary to have the conversation move quickly, for we read with less patience than we listen. The sentences must be for the most part short, and the changes from one speaker to another frequent, or the dialogue will have a "made to order" effect. Notice the conversation in as many different stories as possible. Observe how variation is secured in indicating the speaker. How many substitutes for "He said" can you name? In relating conversation orally, we are less likely to secure such variety. Notice in your own speech and that of others how often "I said" and "He said" occur.
A. Notice the indentation and sentence length in the following selection:—
Louden looked up calmly at the big figure towering above him.
"It won't do, Judge," he said; that was all, but there was a significance in his manner and a certainty in his voice which caused the uplifted hand to drop limply.
"Have you any business to set foot upon my property?" he demanded.
"Yes," answered Joe. "That's why I came.
"What business have you got with me?"
"Enough to satisfy you, I think. But there's one thing I don't want to do"—Joe glanced at the open door—"and that is to talk about it here—for your own sake and because I think Miss Tabor should be present. I called to ask you to come to her house at eight o'clock to-night."
"You did!" Martin Pike spoke angrily, but not in the bull bass of yore. "My accounts with her estate are closed," he said harshly. "If she wants anything let her come here."
Joe shook his head. "No. You must be there at eight o'clock."
—Booth Tarkington:The Conquest of Canaan("Harper's").
B. Notice the conversation in the following narrative. Consider also the incentive moment and the climax. Suggest improvements.
When Widow Perkins saw Widower Parsons coming down the road she looked as mad as a hornet and stepped to the back door.
"William Henry," she called to the lank youth chopping wood, "you've worked hard enough for one day. Come in and rest."
"Guess that's the first time you ever thought I needed a rest since I was born. I'll keep right on chopping till you get through acceptin' old Hull," he replied, whereupon the widow slammed the door and looked twice as mad as before.
"Mornin', widdy," remarked the widower, stalking into the room, taking a chair without an invitation, and hanging his hat on his knee. "Cold day," he added cheerfully.
The widow nodded shortly, at the same time inwardly prophesying a still colder day for him before he struck the weather again.
"Been buyin' a new cow," resumed the caller, impressively.
"Have, eh?" returned the widow, with a jerk, bringing out the ironing board and slamming it down on the table.
"An' two hogs," went on the widower, wishing the widow would glance at him just once and see how affectionate he looked. "They'll make pork enough for all next winter and spring."
"Will, eh?" responded the widow, with a bang of the iron that nearly wrecked the table.
"An' a—a—lot o' odd things 'round the house; an' the fact is, widdy, you see—that is, you know—was going to say if you'll agree"—the widower lost his words, and in his desperation hung his hat on the other knee and hitched a trifle nearer the ironing board.
"No, Hull Parsons, I don't see a single mite, nor I don't know a particle, an' I ain't agreein' the least bit," snapped the widow, pounding the creases out of the tablecloth.
"But say, widdy, don't get riled so soon," again ventured Parsons. "I was jest goin' to tell you that I've been proposing to Carpenter Brown to build a new—"
By this time the widow was glancing at him in a way he wished she wouldn't.
"Is that all the proposin' you've done in the last five mouths, Hull Parsons?" she demanded stormily. "You ain't asked every old maid for miles around to marry you, have you, Hull Parsons? An' you didn't tell the last one you proposed to that if she didn't take you there would be only one more chance left—that old pepper-box of a Widow Perkins? You didn't say that, now, did you, Hull Parsons?" and the widow's eyes and voice snapped fire all at once.
The caller turned several different shades of red and realized that he had struck the biggest snag he'd ever struck in any courting career, past or present. He laughed violently for a second or two, tried to hang his hat on both knees at the same time, and finally sank his voice to a confidential undertone:—
"Now, widdy, that's the woman's way o' puttin' it. They've been jealous o' you all 'long, fur they knew where my mind was sot. I wouldn't married one o' them women for nothing," added the widower, with another hitch toward the ironing board.
"Huh!" responded the widow, losing a trifle of her warlike cast of countenance. "S'pose all them women hadn't refused you, Hull Parsons, what then?"
"They didn't refuse me, widdy," returned the widower, trying to look sheepish, and dropping his voice an octave lower. "S'pose I hadn't oughter tell on 'em, but—er—can you keep a secret, widdy?"
"I ain't like the woman who can't," remarked the widow, shortly.
"Well, then, I was the one who did the refusin'—the hull gang went fer me right heavy, guess 'cause 'twas leap year, or they was tryin' on some o' them new women's ways, or somethin' like that. But my mind was sot all along, d'ye see, widdy?"
And the Widow Perkins invited Widower Parsons to stay to dinner, because she thought she saw.
+Theme LXXVII.+—Complete the story on pages 79-80, or one of the following:—
Soon after Fenimore Dayton became a reporter his city editor sent him to interview James Mountain. That famous financier was then approaching the zenith of his power over Wall Street and Lombard Street. It had just been announced that he had "absorbed" the Great Eastern and Western Railway System—of course, by the methods which have made some men and some newspapers habitually speak of him as "the Royal Bandit." The city editor had two reasons for sending Dayton—first because he did not like him; second, because any other man on the staff would walk about for an hour and come back with the report that Mountain had refused to receive him, while Dayton would make an honest effort.
Seeing Dayton saunter down Nassau Street—tall, slender, calm, and cheerful—you would never have thought that he was on his way to interview one of the worst-tempered men in New York, for a newspaper which that man peculiarly detested, and on a subject which he did not care to discuss with the public. Dayton turned in at the Equitable Building and went up to the floor occupied by Mountain, Ranger, & Blakehill. He nodded to the attendant at the door of Mountain's own suite of offices, strolled tranquilly down the aisle between the several rows of desks at which sat Mountain's personal clerks, and knocked at the glass door on which was printed "Mr. Mountain" in small gilt letters.
"Come!" It was an angry voice—Mountain's at its worst.
Dayton opened the door. Mountain glanced up from a mass of papers before him. His red forehead became a network of wrinkles and his scant white eyebrows bristled. "And who are you?" he snarled.
"My name is Dayton—Fenimore Dayton," replied the reporter, with a gracefully polite bow. "Mr. Mountain, I believe?"
It was impossible for Mr. Mountain altogether to resist the impulse to bow in return. Dayton's manner was compelling.
"And what the dev—what can I do for you?"
"I'm a reporter from the ——"
"What!" roared Mountain, leaping to his feet in a purple, swollen veined fury….
—David Graham Philips ("McClure's").
When I took my aunt and sister to the Pequot hotel, the night before the Yale-Harvard boat race, I found a gang of Harvard boys there. They celebrated a good deal that night, in the usual Harvard way.
Some of the Harvard men had a room next to mine. About three a.m. things quieted down. When I woke up next morning, it was broad daylight, and I was utterly alone. The race was to be at eleven o'clock. I jumped out of bed and looked at my watch—it was nearly ten! I looked for my clothes. My valise was gone! I rang the bell, but in the excitement downstairs, I suppose, no one answered it.
What was I to do? Those Harvard friends of mine thought it a good joke on me to steal my clothes and take themselves off to the race without waking me up. I don't know what I should have done in my anguish, when, thank goodness, I heard a tap at my door, and went to it.
"Well, do hurry!" (It was my sister's voice.) "Aunt won't go to the race; we'll have to go without her."
"They've stolen my clothes, Mollie—those Harvard fellows."
"Haven't you anything?" she asked through the keyhole.
"Not a thing, dear."
"Oh, well! it's a just punishment to you after last night! That —— noise was dreadful!"
"Perhaps it is," I said, "but don't preach now, sister dear—get me something to put on. I want to see the race."
"I haven't anything except some dresses and one of aunt's."
"Get me Aunt Sarah's black silk," I cried. "I will wear anything rather than not see the race, and it's half-past ten nearly now."
(Correct your theme with reference to the points mentioned in Section 146.)
+147. Number and Choice of Details—Unity.+—In relating experiences the choice of details will be determined by the purpose of the narrative and by the person or persons for whom we are writing. A brief account of an accident for a newspaper will need to include only a clear and concise statement of a few important facts. A traveling experience may be made interesting and vivid if we select several facts and treat each quite fully. This is especially true if the experience took place in a country or part of a country not familiar to our readers. If we are writing for those with whom we are acquainted, we can easily decide what will interest them. If we write to different persons an account of the same event, we find that these accounts differ from one another. We know what each person will enjoy, and we try to adapt our writing to each individual taste. Our narrative will be improved by adapting it to an imaginary audience in case we do not know exactly who our readers will be. In your high school work you know your readers and can select your facts accordingly.
To summarize: a narration should possess unity, that is, it should say all that should be said about the subject and not more than needs to be said. The length of the theme, the character of the audience to which it is addressed, and the purpose for which it is written, determine what facts are necessary and how many to choose in order to give unity. (See Section 81.)
+148. Arrangement of Details—Coherence.+—We should use an arrangement of our facts that will give coherence to our theme. In a coherent theme each sentence or paragraph is naturally suggested by the preceding one. It has been pointed out in Sections 82-85 that in narration we gain coherence by relating our facts in the order of their occurrence. When a single series of events is set forth, we can follow the real time-order, omitting such details as are not essential to the unity of the story.
If, however, more than one series of events are given, we cannot follow the exact time-order, for, though two events occur at the same time, one must be told before the other. Here, the actual time relations must be carefully indicated by the use of expressions; as,at the same time, meanwhile, already, etc. (See Section 12.) Two or more series of events belong in the same story only if they finally come together at some time, usually at the point of the story. They should be carried along together so that the reader shall have in mind all that is necessary for the understanding of the point when it is reached. In short stories the changes from one series to another are close together. In a long book one or more chapters may give one series of incidents, while the following chapters may be concerned with a parallel series of incidents. Notice the introductory paragraph of each chapter in Scott'sIvanhoeor Cooper'sThe Last of the Mohicans. Many of these indicate that a new series of events is to be related.
It will be of advantage in writing a narrative to construct an outline as indicated in Section 84. Such an outline will assist us in making our narrative clear by giving it unity, coherence, and emphasis.
1. Name events that have occurred in your school or city which could be related in their exact time-order. Relate one of them orally.
2. Name two accidents that could not be related in their exact time-order. Relate one of them orally.
3. Name subjects for real narratives that would need to be written in the first person; in the third person.
4. In telling about a runaway accident, what points would you mention if you were writing a short account for a newspaper?
5. What points would you add if you were writing to some one who was acquainted with the persons in the accident?
6. Consider the choice and arrangement of details in the next magazine story that you read.
+Theme LXXVIII.+—Write a personal narrative in which the time-order can be carefully followed.
Suggested subjects:—
1. The irate conductor. 2. A personal adventure with a window. 3. An interrupted nap. 4. Lost in the woods. 5. In a runaway. 6. An amusing adventure. 7. A day at grandfather's.
(Consider the unity and coherence of the theme.)
+Theme LXXIX.+—Write in the third person a true narrative in which different events are going on at the same time.
Suggested subjects:— 1. A skating accident. 2. The hunters hunted. 3. Capsized on the river. 4. How he won the race. 5. An experience with a balky horse. 6. The search for a lost child. 7. How they missed each other. 8. A strange adventure. 9. A tip over in a bobsleigh.
(How many series of events have you in your narrative? Are they well connected? What words have you used to show the time-order of the different events?)
+149. Interrelation of Plot and Character.+—Though in narration the interest centers primarily in the action, yet in the higher types of narration interest in character is closely interwoven with interest in plot. In reading, our attention is held by the plot; we follow its development, noticing the addition of incidents, their relation to one another and to the larger elements of action in the story, and their union in the final disentanglement of the plot; but our complete appreciation of the story runs far beyond the plot and depends to a large extent upon our interpretation of the character of the individuals concerned. The mere story may be exciting and interesting, but its effect will be of little permanent value if it does not stir within us some appreciation of character, which we shall find reflected in our own lives or in the lives of those about us. We may read theMerchant of Venicefor its story, but a deeper study of the play sets forth and reënforces the character of Portia, Shylock, and the others. With many of the celebrated characters of literature this interest has grown quite apart from interest in the plot, and they stand to-day as the embodiment of phases of human nature. Thus by means of action does the skillful author portray his conception of human life and human character.
On the other hand, when we write we shall need to distinguish action that indicates character from that which is merely incidental to the plot. In order to develop a story to its climax we may need to have the persons concerned perform certain actions. If by skillful wording we can show not only what was done but also to some extent the way in which it was done, we may give our readers some notion of the character of the individuals in our story. (See Section 10.) This portrayal of character may be aided by the use of description. (See Section 134.)
Notice that the purpose of the following selection is to indicate the character of Pitkin rather than to relate the incident. If the author were to relate other doings of Pitkin, he would need to make the actions of Pitkin in each case consistent with the character indicated by this sketch.
It was the day of our great football game with Harvard, and when I heard my friend Pitkin returning to the room we shared in common, I knew that he was mad. And when I say mad I mean it,—not angry, nor exasperated, nor aggravated, nor provoked, but mad: not mad according to the dictionary, that is, crazy, but mad as we common folk use the term. So I say my friend Pitkin was mad. I thought so when I heard the angry click-clack of his heels on the cement walk, and I carefully put all the chairs against the wall; I was sure of it when the door slammed, and I set the coal scuttle in the corner behind the stove. There was no doubt of it when he mounted the stairs three steps at a time, and I hastily cleared his side of the desk. You may wonder why I did all these things, but you have never seen Pitkin mad.
Why was Pitkin mad? I did not then know. I had not seen him yet, for I was so busy—so very, very busy—that I did not look up when he slammed his books on the desk with a resounding whack which caused the ink bottle to tremble and the lampshade to clatter as though chattering its teeth with fear, while the pens and pencils, tumbling from the holder, scurried away to hide themselves under the desk.
I was still busily engaged with my books while he threw his wet overcoat and dripping hat on the white bedspread and kicked his rubbers under the stove, the smell of which soon warned me to rescue them before they melted. Pitkin must be very mad this time. He was taking off his collar and even his shoes. Pitkin always took off his collar when very mad, and if especially so, put on his slippers, even if he had to change them again in fifteen minutes.
"What are you doing? Why don't you say something? You are a pretty fellow not to speak or even look up." Such was Pitkin's first remark. Sometimes he was talkative and would insist on giving his opinion of things in general. At other times he preferred to be left alone to bury himself and his wrath in his books. Since he had failed to poke the fire, though the room was very warm, I had decided that he would dive into his books and be heard no more until a half hour past his suppertime, but I had made a mistake. Today he was in a talkative mood, and knowing that work was impossible, I devoted the next half hour to listening to a dissertation on the general perverseness of human nature, and to an elaborate description of my friend Pitkin's scheme for endowing a rival institution with a hundred million, and making things so cheap and attractive that our university would have to go out of business. When Pitkin reached this point, I knew that I could safely ask the special reason of his anger and that, having answered, he would settle down to his regular work. I gently insinuated that I was still ignorant of the matter, and received the reply quite in keeping with Pitkin's nature, "I bet on Harvard and won."
1. Read one of Dickens's books and bring to class selections that will show how Dickens portrays character by use of action.
2. What kind of man is Silas Marner? What leads you to think as you do?
3. Select three persons fromIvanhoeand state your opinion of their character.
4. Notice the relative importance of plot and character in three magazine stories.
5. Select some person from a magazine story. Tell the class what makes you form the estimate of his character that you do. To what extent does the descriptive matter help you determine his character?
+Theme LXXX.+—Write a character sketch or a story which shows character by means of action.
Suggested subjects:— 1. The girl from Texas. 2. The Chinese cook. 3. Taking care of the baby. 4. Nathan's temptation. 5. The small boy's triumph. 6. A village character. 7. The meanest man I ever knew.
(Consider the development of the plot. To what extent have you shown character by action? Can you make the impression of character stronger by adding some description?)
+150. History and Biography.+—Historical and biographical narratives may be highly entertaining and at the same time furnish us with much valuable information. Such writings often contain much that is not pure narration. A historian may set forth merely the program of events, but most histories contain besides a large amount of description and explanation. Frequently, too, all of this is but the basis of either a direct or an implied argument. Likewise a biographer may be chiefly concerned with the acts of a man, but he usually finds that the introduction of description and explanation aids him in making clear the life purpose of the man about whom he writes. In shorter histories and biographies, the expository and descriptive matter often displaces the narrative matter to such an extent that the story ceases to be interesting.
The actual time-order of events need not be followed. It will often make our account clearer to discuss the literary works of a man at one time, his education at another, and his practical achievements at a third. Certain portions of his life may need to be emphasized while others are neglected. What we include in a biography and what we emphasize will be determined by the purpose for which it is written. For pure information, a short account is desirable, but a long account is of greater interest. If a man is really great, the most insignificant events in his life will be read with interest, but a good biographer will select such events with good taste and then will present them so that they will have a bearing upon the more important phases of the man's life and character. Hundreds of the stories told about Lincoln would be trivial but for the fact that they help us better to understand the real character of the man.
1. Select some topic briefly mentioned in the history text you study. Look up a more extended account of it and come to the class prepared to recite the topic orally. Make your report clear, concise, and interesting. Decide beforehand just what facts you will relate and in what order. (See Sections 39, 52, 53.)
+Theme LXXXI.+—Come to class prepared to write upon some topic assigned by the teacher, or upon one of the following:—
1. Pontiac's conspiracy. 2. The battle of Marathon. 3. The Boston tea party. 4. The battle of Bannockburn. 5. Sherman's march to the sea. 6. Passage of the Alps by Napoleon.
(Is your narrative told in an interesting way? Are any facts necessary to the clear understanding of it omitted?)
1. Name an English orator, an English statesman, and an English writer about each of whom an interesting biography might be written.
2. With the same purpose in view name two American orators, two American writers, and two American statesmen.
+Theme LXXXII.+—Write a short biography of some prominent person.Include only well-known and important facts, but do not give his name.Read the biography before the class and have them tell whose biography itis.
+151. Description in Narration.+—The descriptive elements, of narration should always have for their purpose something more than the mere creating of images. If a house is described, the description should enable us to bring to mind more vividly the events that take place within or around it. If the description aids us in understanding how or why the events occur, it is helpful; but if it fails to do this, it has no place in the narrative. Description when thus used serves as a background for the actions told in the story, and has for its purpose the explanation of how or why they occur.
Sometimes the descriptions are given before the incident and sometimes the two are intermixed. In the following incident from theLegend of Sleepy Hollow, notice how the description prepares the mind for the action that follows. We are told that the brook which Ichabod must cross runs into a marshy and thickly wooded glen; that the oaks and chestnuts matted with grapevines throw a gloom over the place, and already we feel that it is a dreadful spot after dark. The fact that André was captured here adds to the feeling. We are prepared to have some exciting action take place, and had Ichabod ridden quietly across the bridge, we should have been disappointed.
About two hundred yards from the tree a small brook crossed the road, and ran into a marshy and thickly wooded glen, known by the name of Wiley's swamp. A few rough logs, laid side by side, served for a bridge over this stream. On that side of the road where the brook entered the woods, a group of oaks and chestnuts, matted thick with wild grapevines, threw a cavernous gloom over it. To pass this bridge was the severest trial. It was at this identical spot that the unfortunate André was captured, and under covert of those vines were the sturdy yeomen concealed who surprised him. This has ever since been considered a haunted stream, and fearful are the feelings of the schoolboy who has to pass it alone after dark.
As he approached the stream his heart began to thump; he summoned up, however, all his resolution, gave his horse half a score of kicks in the ribs, and attempted to dash briskly across the bridge; but instead of starting forward, the perverse old animal made a lateral movement, and ran broadside against the fence. Ichabod, whose fears increased with the delay, jerked the reins on the other side, and kicked lustily with the contrary foot. It was all in vain; his steed started, it is true, but it was only to plunge to the opposite side of the road into a thicket of brambles and alder bushes. The schoolmaster now bestowed both whip and heel upon the starveling ribs of old Gunpowder, who dashed forward, snuffling and snorting, but came to a stand just by the bridge, with a suddenness that had nearly sent his rider sprawling over his head. Just at this moment a plashy tramp, by the side of the bridge caught the sensitive ear of Ichabod. In the dark shadow of the grove, on the margin of the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, black, and towering. It stirred not, but seemed gathered up in the gloom like some gigantic monster ready to spring upon the traveler.
—Irving:Legend of Sleepy Hollow.
The most important use of description in connection with narration is that of portraying character. Though it is by their actions that the character of persons is most strongly brought out, yet the descriptive matter may do much to strengthen the impression of character which we form. (Section 134.) Much of the description found in literature is of this nature. Stripped of its context such a description may fail to satisfy our ideals as judged by the principles of description discussed in Chapter VIII. Nevertheless, in its place it may be perfectly adapted to its purpose and give just the impression the author wished to give. Such descriptions must be judged in their settings, and the sole standard of judgment is not their beauty or completeness as descriptions, but how well they give the desired impressions.
+Theme LXXXIII.+—Write a short personal narrative containing some description which explains how or why events occur.
(Is there anything in the descriptive part that does not bear on the narration?)
+Theme LXXXIV.+—Write a narrative containing description that aids in giving an impression of character.
Suggested subjects:— 1. Holding the fort. 2. A steamer trip. 3. How I played truant. 4. Kidnapped. 5. The misfortunes of our circus. 6. Account for the situation shown in a picture that you have seen.
(Will the reader form the impression of character which you wish him to form? Consider your theme with reference to its introduction, incentive moment, selection and arrangement of details, and climax.)
1. Narration assumes a variety of forms,—incidents, anecdotes, stories, letters, novels, histories, biographies, etc.,—all concerned with the relation of events.
2. The essential characteristics of a narration are,—a.An introduction which tells the characters, the time, the place,and enough of the attendant circumstances to make clear thepoint of the narrative.b.The early introduction of an incentive moment.c.A climax presented in such a way as to maintain the interest ofthe reader.d.The selection of details essential to the climax in accordancewith the principle of unity.e.The arrangement of these details in a coherent order.f.The skillful introduction of minor details which will assist inthe appreciation of the point.g.The introduction of all necessary description and explanation.h.That additional effectiveness which comes from(1) Proper choice of words.(2) Suitable comparisons and figures.(3) Variety of sentence structure.i.A brief conclusion.
+152. Purpose of Exposition.+—It is the purpose of exposition to make clear to others that which we ourselves understand. Its primary object is to give information. Herein lies one of the chief differences between the two forms of discourse just studied and the one that we are about to study. The primary object of most description and narration is to please, while that of exposition is to inform. Exposition answers such questions as how? why? what does it mean? what is it used for? and by these answers attempts to satisfy demands for knowledge.
In the following selections notice that the first tells ushowto burnish a photograph; the second,howto split a sheet of paper:—
1. When the prints are almost dry they can be burnished. The burnishing iron should be heated and kept hot during the burnishing, about the same heat as a flatiron in ironing clothes. Care must be taken to keep the polished surface of the burnisher bright and clean. When the iron is hot enough the prints should be rubbed with a glacé polish, which is sold for this purpose, and is applied with a small wad of flannel. Then the prints should be passed through the burnisher two or three times, the burnisher being so adjusted that the pressure on the prints is rather light; the degree of pressure will be quickly learned by experience, more pressure being required if the prints have been allowed to become dry before being polished. White castile soap will do very well as a lubricator for the prints before burnishing, and is applied in the same manner as above.
—The Amateur Photographer's Handbook.
2. Paper can be split into two or even three parts, however thin the sheet. It may be convenient to know how to do this sometimes; as, for instance, when one wishes to paste in a scrapbook an article printed on both sides of the paper.
Get a piece of plate glass and place it on a sheet of paper. Then let the paper be thoroughly soaked. With care and a little skill the sheet can be split by the top surface being removed.
The best plan, however, is to paste a piece of cloth or strong paper to each side of the sheet to be split. When dry, quickly, and without hesitation, pull the two pieces asunder, when one part of the sheet will be found to have adhered to one, and part to the other. Soften the paste in water, and the two pieces can easily be removed from the cloth.
A. Explain orally any two of the following:—1. How to fly a kite.2. How a robin builds her nest.3. How oats are harvested.4. How tacks are made.5. How to make a popgun.6. How fishes breathe.7. How to swim.8. How to hemstitch a handkerchief.9. How to play golf.10. How salt is obtained.
B. Name several subjects with the explanation of which you are unfamiliar.
+Theme LXXXV.+—Select for a subject something that you know how to do.Write a theme on the subject chosen.
(Have you made use of either general description or general narration? SeeSections 67 and 68.)
Very frequently explanations ofhowandwhyanything is done are combined, as in the following:—
In cases of sunstroke, place the person attacked in a cool, airy place. Do not allow a crowd to collect closely about him. Remove his clothing, and lay him flat upon his back. Dash him all over with cold water—ice-water, if it can be obtained—and rub the entire body with pieces of ice. This treatment is used to reduce the heat of the body, for in all cases of sunstroke the temperature of the body is greatly increased. When the body has become cooler, wipe it dry and remove the person to a dry locality. If respiration ceases, or becomes exceedingly slow, practice artificial respiration. After the patient has apparently recovered, he should be kept quiet in bed for some time.
—Baldwin:Essential Lessons in Human Physiology and Hygiene.
Notice that the following selection answers neither the questionhow? norwhy? but explains what journalism is:—
What is a journal? What is a journalist? What is journalism? Is it a trade, a commercial business, or a profession? Our wordjournalcomes from the French. It has different forms in the several Romantic languages, and all go back to the Latindiurnalis, daily, fromdies, a day. Diurnal and diary are derived from the same source. The first journals were in fact diaries, daily records of happenings, compiled often for the pleasure and use of the compiler alone, sometimes for monarchs or statesmen or friends; later to be circulated for the information of a circle of readers, or distributed in copies to subscribers among the public at large. These were the first newspapers. While we still in a specific sense speak of daily newspapers as journals, the term is often enlarged to comprise nearly all publications that are issued periodically and distributed to subscribers.
A journalist is one whose business is publishing a journal (or more than one), or editing a journal, or writing for journals, especially a person who is regularly employed in some responsible directing or creative work on a journal, as a publisher, editor, writer, reporter, critic, etc. This use of the word is comparatively modern, and it is commonly restricted to persons connected with daily or weekly newspapers. Many older newspaper men scout it, preferring to be known as publishers, editors, writers, or contributors. Journalism, however, is a word that is needed for its comprehensiveness. It includes the theory, the business, and the art of producing newspapers in all departments of the work. Hence, any school of professional journalism must be presumed to comprise in its scope and detail of instruction the knowledge that is essential to the making and conduct of newspapers. It must have for its aim the ideal newspaper which is ideally perfect in every department.
Journalism, so far as it is more than mere reporting and mere money making, so far as it undertakes to frame and guide opinion, to educate the thought and instruct the conscience of the community, by editorial comment, interpretation and homily, based on the news, is under obligation to the community to be truthful, sincere, and uncorrupted; to enlighten the understanding, not to darken counsel; to uphold justice and honor with unfailing resolution, to champion morality and the public welfare with intelligent zeal, to expose wrong and antagonize it with unflinching courage. If journalism has any mission in the world besides and beyond the dissemination of news, it is a mission of maintaining a high standard of thought and life in the community it serves, strengthening all its forces that make for righteousness and beauty and fair growth.
This is not solely, nor peculiarly, the office of what is called the editorial page. To be most influential, it must be a consistent expression in all departments, giving the newspaper a totality of power in such aim. This is the right ideal of journalism whenever it is considered as more than a form of commercialism. No newspaper attains its ideal in completeness. If it steadfastly works toward attainment, it gives proof of its right to be. The advancing newspaper, going on from good to better in the substance of its character and the ability of its endeavor, is the type of journalism which affords hope for the future. And one strong encouragement to fidelity in a high motive is public appreciation.
—The Boston Herald.
Give as complete an answer as possible to any two of the following questions:—
1. Why do fish bite better on a cloudy day than on a bright one?
2. Why should we study history?
3. Why does a baseball curve?
4. Why did the American colonies revolt against England?
5. Why did the early settlers of New England persecute the Quakers?
6. Why should trees be planted either in early spring or late autumn?
7. Why do we lose a day in going from America to China?
8. In laying a railroad track, why is there a space left between the ends of the rails?
+Theme LXXXVI.+—Choose one of the above or a similar question as a subject for a theme. Write out as complete and exact an explanation as possible.
Write out a list of subjects the explanation of which would not answer the questionswhy? orhow? How many of them can you explain?
+Theme LXXXVII.+—Write out the explanation of one of the subjects in the above list.
(Read what you have written and consider it with reference to clearness, unity, and coherence.)
+153. Importance of Exposition.+—This form of discourse is important because it deals so extensively with important subjects, such as questions of government, facts in science, points in history, methods in education, and processes of manufacture. It enters vitally into our lives, no matter what our occupation may be. Business men make constant use of this kind of discourse. In fact, it would be impossible for business to be transacted with any degree of success without explanations. Loans of money would not be made if men did not understand how they could have security for the sums loaned. A manufacturer cannot expect to have good articles produced if he is unable to give needful explanations concerning their manufacture. In order that a merchant be successful he must be able to explain the relative merits of his goods to his customers.
Very much of the work done in our schools is of an expository nature. The text-books used are expositions. When they of themselves are not sufficient for the clear understanding of the subject, it is necessary to consult reference books. Then, if the subject is still lacking in clearness, the teacher is called upon for additional explanation. On the other hand, the greater part of the pupil's recitations consists simply in explaining the subjects under discussion. Much of the class-room work in our schools consists of either receiving or giving explanations.
1. Name anything outside of school work that you have been called upon to explain during the last week or two.
2. Name anything outside of school work that you have recently learned through explanation.
3. Name three topics in each of your studies for to-day that call for explanation.
4. Name some topic in which the text-book did not seem to make the explanation clear.
+Theme LXXXVIII.+—Write out one of the topics mentioned in number three of the preceding exercise.
(Have you included everything that is necessary to make your explanation clear? Can anything be omitted without affecting the clearness?)
+154. Clear Understanding.+—The first requisite of a good explanation is a clear understanding on the part of the one who is giving the explanation. It is evident that if we do not understand a subject ourselves we cannot make our explanations clear to others. If the ideas in our mind are in a confused state, our explanation will be equally confused. If you do not understand a problem in algebra, your attempt to explain it to others will prove a failure. If you attempt to explain how a canal boat is taken through a lock without thoroughly understanding the process yourself, you will give your listeners only a confused idea of how it is done.
The principal reason why pupils fail in their recitations and examinations is that in preparing their lessons, they do not make themselves thoroughly acquainted with the topics that they are studying. They often go over the lessons hurriedly and carelessly and come to class with confused ideas. Consequently when the pupils attempt to recite, there is, if anything, an additional confusion of ideas, and the recitation proves a failure. Carelessness in the preparation of daily recitations, negligence in asking for additional explanations, and inattention to the explanations that are given, inevitably cause failure when tests or examinations are called for.
1. Name five subjects about which you know so little that it would be useless to attempt an explanation.
2. Name five about which you know something, but not enough to give clear explanations of them.
3. Name four about which you know but little, but concerning which you feel sure that you can obtain information.
4. Name six that you think you clearly understand. Report orally on one of them.
+Theme LXXXIV.+—Write out an explanation of one of the subjects named in number four of the preceding exercise.
(Read your theme and criticise it as to clearness. In listening to the themes read by other members of the class consider them as to clearness. Call for further explanation of any part not perfectly clear to you.)
+155. Selection of Facts—Unity.+—After we have been given a subject for explanation or have chosen one for ourselves, we must decide concerning the facts to be presented. In some kinds of exposition this selection is rather difficult. Since the purpose is to make our meaning clear to the person addressed, we secure unity by including all that is necessary to that purpose and by omitting all that is not necessary. It is evident that selection of facts to secure unity depends to some extent upon the audience. If a child asks us to explain what a trust is, our explanation will differ very much from that which we would give if we were addressing a body of men who were familiar with the termtrusts, but do not understand the advantages and disadvantages arising from their existence.
Examine the following as to selection of facts. For what class of people do you think it was written? What seems to be the purpose of it?
This connection of king as sovereign, with his princes and great men as vassals, must be attended to and understood, in order that you may comprehend the history which follows. A great king, or sovereign prince, gave large provinces, or grants of land, to his dukes, earls, and noblemen; and each of these possessed nearly as much power, within his own district, as the king did in the rest of his dominions. But then the vassal, whether duke, earl, or lord, or whatever he was, was obliged to come with a certain number of men to assist the sovereign, when he was engaged in war; and in time of peace, he was bound to attend on his court when summoned, and do homage to him, that is, acknowledge that he was his master and liege lord. In like manner, the vassals of the crown, as they were called, divided the lands which the king had given them into estates, which they bestowed on knights, and gentlemen, whom they thought fitted to follow them in war, and to attend them in peace; for they, too, held courts, and administered justice, each in his own province. Then the knights and gentlemen, who had these estates from the great nobles, distributed the property among an inferior class of proprietors, some of whom cultivated the land themselves, and others by means of husbandmen and peasants, who were treated as a sort of slaves, being bought and sold like brute beasts, along with the farms which they labored.
Thus, when a great king, like that of France or England, went to war, he summoned all his crown vassals to attend him, with the number of armed men corresponding to his fief, as it was called, that is, territory which had been granted to each of them. The prince, duke, or earl, in order to obey the summons, called upon all the gentlemen to whom he had given estates, to attend his standard with their followers in arms. The gentlemen, in their turn, called on the franklins, a lower order of gentry, and upon the peasants; and thus the whole force of the kingdom was assembled in one array. This system of holding lands for military service, that is, for fighting for the sovereign when called upon, was called thefeudal system. It was general throughout all Europe for a great many ages.
—Scott:Tales of a Grandfather.
+Theme LXXXV.+—Write a theme on one of the following:—
1. Tell your younger brother how to make a whistle.
2. Explain some game to a friend of your own age.
3. Give an explanation of the heating system of your school to a member of the school board of an adjoining city.
4. Explain to a city girl how butter is made.
5. Explain to a city boy how hay is cured.
6. Explain to a friend how to run an automobile.
(Consider the selection of facts as determined by the person addressed.)
+156. Arrangement—Coherence.+—Some expositions are of such a nature that there is but little question concerning the proper arrangement of the topics composing them. In order to be coherent, all we do is to follow the natural order of occurrence in time and place. This is especially true of general narrations and of some general descriptions. In explaining the circulation of the blood, for instance, it is most natural for us to follow the course which the blood takes in circulating through the body. In explaining the manufacture of articles we naturally begin with the material as it comes to the factory, and trace the process of manufacture in order through its successive stages.
In other kinds of exposition a coherent arrangement is somewhat difficult. We should not, however, fail to pay attention to it. A clear understanding of the subject, on the part of the listener, depends largely upon the proper arrangement of topics. As you study examples of expositions of some length, you will notice that there are topics which naturally belong together. These topics form groups, and the groups are treated separately. If the expositions are good ones, the related facts will not only be united into groups, but the groups will also be so arranged and the transition from one group to another be so naturally made that it will cause no confusion.
In brief explanations of but one paragraph there should be but one group of facts. Even these facts need to be so arranged as to make the whole idea clear. The writer may have a clear understanding of the whole idea, but in order to give the reader the same clear understanding, certain facts must be presented before others are. In order to make an explanation clear, the facts must be so arranged that those which are necessary to the understanding of others shall come first.
Examine the following expositions as to the grouping of related facts and the arrangement of those groups:—
Fresh, pure air at all times is essential to bodily comfort and good health. Air may become impure from many causes. Poisonous gases may be mixed with it; sewer gas is especially to be guarded against; coal gas which is used for illuminating purposes is very poisonous and dangerous if inhaled; the air arising from decaying substances, foul cellars, or stagnant pools, is impure and unhealthy, and breeds diseases; the foul and poisonous air which has been expelled from the lungs, if breathed again, will cause many distressing symptoms. Ventilation has for its object the removal of impure air and the supplying of fresh, wholesome air in its place. Proper ventilation should be secured in all rooms and buildings, and its importance cannot be overestimated.
In the summer time and in climates which permit of it with comfort, ventilation may be secured by having the doors and windows open, thus allowing the fresh air to circulate freely through the house. In stormy and cold weather, however, some other means of ventilation must be supplied. If open fires or grates are used for heating purposes, good ventilation exists, for under such circumstances, the foul and impure air is drawn out of the rooms through the chimneys, and the fresh air enters through the cracks of the doors and windows.