Studying For The Contest.Ohdear! If ever I try to learn another piece I hope to be swallowed by a whale ten times the size of the one that lunched on Jonah. Here I’ve been three weeks trying to get “The Flight of the Hottentots” by heart, and to-morrow night I am to recite at the contest; but I’m bound that that squint-eyed Caddy Screech shall not out-do me this time. Well, here it goes again: [Reads from the book without gesture.]The swarthy forms steal one by oneLike shadows past the guard;Now soft they creep, now leap, now run,From tyrants base and hard;But hark! what sound is that which comesAcross the sandy plain?The sentry’s cry, the roll of drums!Alas! their flight is vain.Behold! a thousand torches flashLike meteors into view!While swift the Pagans onward dashThe bold dragoons pursue!See! now the captives reach a stream,A rushing torrent wild;They cannot pass—[Throws book on floor.]Oh, grief! now for the gestures: [With hesitation as though forgetting lines.]The swarthy forms steal[51]one by oneLike shadows past the guard—Confound[52]the gestures! they bother me worse than anything else. Why didn’t the fool that wrote the piece saywhich way they stole, up[53]a hill, down[54]a hill, or across[55]the road? Well, I’ll try the next two lines.Now soft they creep,[56]now leap,[57]now run[58]From tyrants base and hard—They must have been acrobats to get over the ground in that shape; I’m desperate, I am!But hark![59]what sound is that which comesAcross the sandy plain?No; I mustn’t put my finger up like that.[60]Why should a person when alone be required to do it? Am I to warn myself to listen when I have ears? or if at all necessary, why not do it effectually and hold up both fingers, thus?[61]I’ll skip that part.The sentry’s cry, the roll of drums,Alas! their flight is vain[62]—Now this is a puzzler.The sentry’s cry—Was it a whoop, a yell, a shriek, a halloo—but fiddle! Who ever heard a sentry cry? Why soldiers are brave men, and never weep. That is unquestionably a poeticalli-cence.—the roll of drums.What on earth were the drums rolled for? It looks to me as though the Hottentots were drummed out of camp.Alas! their flight is vain—I don’t believe there was a flight of the Hottentots. What authority[63]is there for the flight? What made them fly anyhow? Well, I must move on:Behold![64]a thousand torches flashLike meteors into view!While swift the Pagans onward[65]dashThe bold dragoons[66]pursue!That’s better. The Principal could not beat that, particularly theBehold, and the s-w-i-f-t. Next comes the climax—a long respiration, and—and—See![67]the captives pass a stream,A rushing torrent[68]wild,They cannot pass—Now I object to this vague style of literature. The poet is silent as to how they reached it. With their hands, thus![69]or with their feet, thus![70]or on horseback, with a whoa![71]whoa! Dobbin? How am I to gesticulate correctly, not knowing the facts? I’ll do the poem to suit myself, and if I fail to win the prize, it will be through the stupidity of the judges, so there!Geo.M. Vickers.Gestures.[51]Uncertain motions of hand.[52]D. F.[53]A. O.[54]D. O.[55]H. F.[56]P. D. F.[57]B. to imitate leaping.[58]H. O.[59]Index finger raised to listen.[60]Turn finger round and look at it.[61]Raise index finger of both hands.[62]D. L.[63]H. F.[64]Left H. O.[65]H. O.[66]Left H. O.[67]H. O.[68]B. V. Par. H. O.[69]Special.[70]Run.[71]H. F. B. draw back.
Ohdear! If ever I try to learn another piece I hope to be swallowed by a whale ten times the size of the one that lunched on Jonah. Here I’ve been three weeks trying to get “The Flight of the Hottentots” by heart, and to-morrow night I am to recite at the contest; but I’m bound that that squint-eyed Caddy Screech shall not out-do me this time. Well, here it goes again: [Reads from the book without gesture.]
The swarthy forms steal one by oneLike shadows past the guard;Now soft they creep, now leap, now run,From tyrants base and hard;But hark! what sound is that which comesAcross the sandy plain?The sentry’s cry, the roll of drums!Alas! their flight is vain.Behold! a thousand torches flashLike meteors into view!While swift the Pagans onward dashThe bold dragoons pursue!See! now the captives reach a stream,A rushing torrent wild;They cannot pass—[Throws book on floor.]
The swarthy forms steal one by oneLike shadows past the guard;Now soft they creep, now leap, now run,From tyrants base and hard;But hark! what sound is that which comesAcross the sandy plain?The sentry’s cry, the roll of drums!Alas! their flight is vain.Behold! a thousand torches flashLike meteors into view!While swift the Pagans onward dashThe bold dragoons pursue!See! now the captives reach a stream,A rushing torrent wild;They cannot pass—[Throws book on floor.]
The swarthy forms steal one by one
Like shadows past the guard;
Now soft they creep, now leap, now run,
From tyrants base and hard;
But hark! what sound is that which comesAcross the sandy plain?The sentry’s cry, the roll of drums!Alas! their flight is vain.
But hark! what sound is that which comes
Across the sandy plain?
The sentry’s cry, the roll of drums!
Alas! their flight is vain.
Behold! a thousand torches flashLike meteors into view!While swift the Pagans onward dashThe bold dragoons pursue!
Behold! a thousand torches flash
Like meteors into view!
While swift the Pagans onward dash
The bold dragoons pursue!
See! now the captives reach a stream,A rushing torrent wild;They cannot pass—[Throws book on floor.]
See! now the captives reach a stream,
A rushing torrent wild;
They cannot pass—[Throws book on floor.]
Oh, grief! now for the gestures: [With hesitation as though forgetting lines.]
The swarthy forms steal[51]one by oneLike shadows past the guard—
The swarthy forms steal[51]one by oneLike shadows past the guard—
The swarthy forms steal[51]one by one
Like shadows past the guard—
Confound[52]the gestures! they bother me worse than anything else. Why didn’t the fool that wrote the piece saywhich way they stole, up[53]a hill, down[54]a hill, or across[55]the road? Well, I’ll try the next two lines.
Now soft they creep,[56]now leap,[57]now run[58]From tyrants base and hard—
Now soft they creep,[56]now leap,[57]now run[58]From tyrants base and hard—
Now soft they creep,[56]now leap,[57]now run[58]
From tyrants base and hard—
They must have been acrobats to get over the ground in that shape; I’m desperate, I am!
But hark![59]what sound is that which comesAcross the sandy plain?
But hark![59]what sound is that which comesAcross the sandy plain?
But hark![59]what sound is that which comes
Across the sandy plain?
No; I mustn’t put my finger up like that.[60]Why should a person when alone be required to do it? Am I to warn myself to listen when I have ears? or if at all necessary, why not do it effectually and hold up both fingers, thus?[61]I’ll skip that part.
The sentry’s cry, the roll of drums,Alas! their flight is vain[62]—
The sentry’s cry, the roll of drums,Alas! their flight is vain[62]—
The sentry’s cry, the roll of drums,
Alas! their flight is vain[62]—
Now this is a puzzler.
The sentry’s cry—
The sentry’s cry—
The sentry’s cry—
Was it a whoop, a yell, a shriek, a halloo—but fiddle! Who ever heard a sentry cry? Why soldiers are brave men, and never weep. That is unquestionably a poeticalli-cence.
—the roll of drums.
—the roll of drums.
—the roll of drums.
What on earth were the drums rolled for? It looks to me as though the Hottentots were drummed out of camp.
Alas! their flight is vain—
Alas! their flight is vain—
Alas! their flight is vain—
I don’t believe there was a flight of the Hottentots. What authority[63]is there for the flight? What made them fly anyhow? Well, I must move on:
Behold![64]a thousand torches flashLike meteors into view!While swift the Pagans onward[65]dashThe bold dragoons[66]pursue!
Behold![64]a thousand torches flashLike meteors into view!While swift the Pagans onward[65]dashThe bold dragoons[66]pursue!
Behold![64]a thousand torches flash
Like meteors into view!
While swift the Pagans onward[65]dash
The bold dragoons[66]pursue!
That’s better. The Principal could not beat that, particularly theBehold, and the s-w-i-f-t. Next comes the climax—a long respiration, and—and—
See![67]the captives pass a stream,A rushing torrent[68]wild,They cannot pass—
See![67]the captives pass a stream,A rushing torrent[68]wild,They cannot pass—
See![67]the captives pass a stream,
A rushing torrent[68]wild,
They cannot pass—
Now I object to this vague style of literature. The poet is silent as to how they reached it. With their hands, thus![69]or with their feet, thus![70]or on horseback, with a whoa![71]whoa! Dobbin? How am I to gesticulate correctly, not knowing the facts? I’ll do the poem to suit myself, and if I fail to win the prize, it will be through the stupidity of the judges, so there!
Geo.M. Vickers.
Gestures.