Exercises in Easy Narratives.

In the preceding pages you have been advised to practice the writing of compositions by reading the productions of authors, and then writing from memory what you have read. This may not be easy at first. You will, however, find it less difficult as you proceed. You could not become an expert typewriter or pianist without faithful practice, yet we have expert typewriters and pianists.

It is so with learning to express your thoughts in writing. What is hard at first becomes “second nature” afterward. I have prepared some helpful rules and examples to aid you.

When writing a Story which you have read or heard, observe the following directions:—

1. Before beginning to write, think over the whole story, to make sure that you remember all the points, and the order in which they come.

Neglect of this direction may cause you to omit something or to put something in the wrong place.

2. Before beginning to write each sentence, arrange the whole of it in your mind.

If you neglect this direction you may find that the second part of a sentence goes badly with the first, or that you cannot finish at all a sentence such as you have begun. Here is an example:—

I am desired to inform the Board of Aldermen that Mr. Alderman Gill died last night by order of Mrs. Gill.

The words printed in italics could not have been in the mind of the writer when he began, or he would have placed them after desired, or (better still) he would have said, “I am desired by Mrs. Gill, etc.”

3. Make short sentences.

Beware of using and and so too much. Avoid such a sentence as the following:

Once upon a time there was a fox and he went into a vineyard and there he saw many bunches of beautiful ripe grapes hanging on high and he tried to reach them and he could not jump high enough and so he turned to go and said “It does not matter; the grapes are sour.”

Such a sentence ought to be divided into several; thus:—

A fox once went into a vineyard. There he saw many bunches of beautiful ripe grapes hanging on high. He tried to reach them, but found that he could not jump high enough. As he turned to go he said, “It does not matter; the grapes are sour.”

The following sentence has several faults besides its length:—

He [Swinton] did with a sort of eloquence that moved the whole House lay out all his own errors and the ill spirit he was in when he committed the things that were charged on him with so tender a sense that he seemed as one indifferent what they should do with him, and without so much as moving for mercy or even for a delay he did so effectually prevail on them that they recommended him to the king as a fit object of his mercy.—Burnet: History of his Own Time.

It is amended somewhat by division into shorter sentences, thus:—

With a sort of eloquence that moved the whole House, he did lay out all his own errors and the ill spirit that he was in when he committed the things that were charged on him. He spoke with so tender a sense that he seemed as one indifferent what they should do with him. Without so much as moving for mercy or even for a delay, he did so effectually prevail on them that they recommended him to the king as a fit object for mercy.

4. Use no word of which you do not know the exact meaning.

Neglect of this rule led some one to write:

At the dedication of the Gettysburg Monument, President Lincoln gave the ovation.

5. Do not use long words if you can find short ones.

The barber who advertised himself as “a first-class tonsorial artist and facial operator,” meant only that he could cut hair and shave well.

6. Arrange the different parts of each sentence so that they convey the meaning which you intend.

The following sentence is badly arranged:—

He tells stories which Mountain would be shocked to hear after dinner.—Thackeray: The Virginians.

Mountain would be shocked to hear them at any time. To convey the author’s meaning the sentence should be:—

After dinner he tells stories which Mountain would be shocked to hear.

7. When you have written your story, always read it over, and correct all the mistakes which you can find.

SHORT STORIES TO BE READ CAREFULLY, AND THEN WRITTEN FROM MEMORY.

The Fox and the Goat.

A fox that had fallen into a well tried in vain to get out again. By-and-by a goat came to the place to quench her thirst. Seeing the fox below she asked if the water was good. “Yes,” answered the cunning creature, “it is so good that I cannot leave off drinking.” Thereupon the goat, without a moment’s thought, jumped in. The fox at once scrambled on her back and got out. Then, looking down at the poor fool, he said coolly, “If you had half as much brains as beard, you would look before you leap.”

The Vain Jackdaw.

A vain jackdaw found some peacocks’ feathers and stuck them amongst his own. Then he left his old companions and boldly went amongst the peacocks. They knew him at once, in spite of his disguise; so they stripped off his borrowed plumes, pecked him well, and sent him about his business. He went back to the daws as if nothing had happened, but they would not allow him to mix with them. If he was too good for them before, they were too good for him now. Thus the silly bird, by trying to appear better than he was, lost his old friends without making any new ones.

The Ant and the Grasshopper.

One frosty day a grasshopper, half dead with cold and hunger, knocked at the door of an ant, and begged for something to eat. “What were you doing in the summer?” asked the ant. “Oh, I was singing all the time.” “Then,” said the ant, “if you could sing all the summer you may dance all the winter.”

The Wolf and the Lamb.

A wolf, coming to a brook to drink, saw a lamb standing in the stream, some distance down. He made up his mind to kill her, and at once set about finding an excuse. “Villain,” he said, “how dare you dirty the water which I am drinking?” The lamb answered meekly, “Sir, it is impossible for me to dirty the water which you are drinking, because the stream runs from you to me, not from me to you.” “Be that as it may,” replied the wolf, “you called me bad names a year ago.” “Sir,” pleaded the lamb, “you are mistaken; a year ago I was not born.” “Then,” said the hungry beast, “if it was not you it was your father, and that is as bad. It is of no use trying to argue me out of my supper.” Thereupon he fell upon the poor creature and ate her up.

What the Bear Said.

As two friends were traveling through a wood, a bear rushed out upon them. One of the men without a thought to his companion, climbed up into a tree, and hid among the branches. The other, knowing that alone he had no chance, threw himself on the ground, and pretended to be dead; for he had heard that bears will not touch a dead body. The creature came and sniffed him from head to foot, but, thinking him to be lifeless, went away without harming him. Then the man in the tree got down, and, hoping to pass his cowardice off with a joke, he said, “I noticed that the bear had his mouth very close to your ear; what did he whisper to you?” “Oh,” answered the other, “he only told me never to keep company with those who in time of danger leave their friends in the lurch.”

Bad Company.

A farmer who had just sown his fields placed a net to catch the cranes that came to steal his corn. After some time he went to look at the net, and in it he found several cranes and one stork. “Oh, sir, please spare me,” said the stork; “I am not a crane, I am an innocent stork, kind to my parents, and——” The farmer would hear no more. “All that may be very true,” he said, “but it is no business of mine. I found you amongst thieves, and you must suffer with them.”

Mercury and the Woodmen.

A woodman was working beside a deep river when his axe slipped, and fell into the water. As the axe was his living, he was very sorry to lose it, and sat on the bank to weep. Mercury, hearing his cries, appeared to him, and, finding what was the matter, dived, and brought up a golden axe. “Is this the one which you lost?” asked the god. “No,” said the woodman. Then the god dived a second time, and brought up a silver axe, and asked if that was the one. The woodman again answered “No.” So Mercury dived a third time, and then he brought up the axe which had been lost. “That is mine,” cried the woodman joyfully. The god gave it to him, and presented him with the other two as a reward for his truth and honesty.

One of the woodman’s neighbors, hearing what had happened, determined to see if he could not have the same good luck. He went to the bank of the river, began to fell a tree, purposely let his axe slip into the water, and then pretended to cry. Mercury appeared as before, dived, and brought up a golden axe. The man, in his eagerness to grasp the prize, forgot to act as his neighbor had done; so when the god asked, “Is that yours?” he answered “Yes.” To punish him for his lying and dishonesty, the god would neither give him the golden axe nor find his own.

Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Siddons.

Dr. Johnson always spoke scornfully of actors and actresses, but he treated the famous actress, Mrs. Siddons, with great politeness. She called on him, and his servant could not readily find a chair for her. “You see, madam,” said the doctor, “wherever you go no seats can be got.”

Clever Children.

An ignorant Englishman once visited Paris. After his return he was talking to some of his friends about the wonders he had seen. “I was most surprised,” he said, “with the cleverness of the children. Boys and girls of seven or eight spoke French quite as easily as the children in this country speak English.”

One Good Turn Deserves Another.

A Cambridge student sent to another student to borrow a book. “I never lend my books out,” was the answer, “but if the gentleman chooses to come to my rooms he may use them there.” A few days after the book owner sent to the other student to borrow a carpet sweeper. “I never lend my carpet sweeper,” replied he, “but if the gentleman chooses to come to my rooms he may use it there.”

Learning Rewarded.

A rich farmer sent his son to a famous university. The young man was rather foolish, and brought home more folly than learning. One night, when there were two fowls for supper, he said, “I can prove these two fowls to be three.” “Let us hear,” answered the old man. “This,” said the scholar, pointing to the first, “is one; this,” pointing to the second, “is two; and two and one make three.” “Since you have made it out so well,” replied the father, “your mother shall have the first fowl, I will have the second, and you may keep the third for your great learning.”

Daring a Dutchman.

A Dutch vessel and an English vessel were lying near each other. One of the Dutch sailors wished to show his activity, so he ran up the mast, and stood upon his head on the top of it. One of the English sailors (who did not like to be beaten by a Dutchman) also tried to stand upon his head on the top of the mast. He, however, fell. The rigging broke his fall and he alighted on the deck unhurt. “There, you lubber,” he cried, “do that if you dare.”

The Miserly Planter.

A very miserly planter formerly lived in the island of Jamaica. He often gave his poor slaves too little food. They complained, and he answered that he could not help himself, because the provision ships had been taken by pirates. This lying excuse satisfied them once, twice, thrice, and again, but in the end long fasting made them impatient. Then they went to their master and said to him, “Is it not strange that the pirates have so often taken the ships bringing food, but have never taken the ships bringing pickaxes and hoes?”

A Precious Turnip.

Before Louis the Eleventh became king he used to visit a peasant whose garden produced excellent fruit. After his accession, the peasant brought him as a present a very large turnip which had grown in his garden. The king, remembering the pleasant hours that he had spent under the old man’s roof, gave him a thousand crowns. The lord of the village, hearing of this, thought that if one who gave a paltry turnip received so large a reward, one who gave a really valuable present would receive a still larger reward. He, therefore, offered a splendid horse. The king accepted it and, calling for the big turnip, said, “This cost me a thousand crowns; I give it to you in return for your horse.”

The Dangers of a Bed.

A carpenter asked a sailor, “Where did your father die?” The sailor answered, “My father, my grandfather, and my great-grandfather were all drowned at sea.” “Then,” said the carpenter, “are you not afraid of going to sea, lest you should be drowned too?” Instead of replying, the sailor asked, “Where did your father die?” “In his bed.” “And your grandfather?” “In his bed.” “And your great-grandfather?” “In his bed also.” “Then,” said the sailor, “why should I be more afraid of going to sea than you are of going to bed?”

How to treat Enemies.

A Scotch minister had in his parish a man who sometimes used to get drunk. One day the minister, reproving him for his bad habit, said, “You love whisky too much, Donald; you know very well that it is your worst enemy.” “But,” answered the man slily, “have you not often told us that we ought to love our enemies?” “True, Donald, but I never told you that you ought to swallow them.”

The Secret of Success.

During the long struggle between England and France, two ignorant old ladies were discussing the war as they went to church. One said, “Is it not wonderful that the English always beat the French?” “Not at all,” answered the other; “don’t you know that the English always say their prayers before going into battle?” “But,” replied the first, “can’t the French say their prayers as well?” “Tut, tut,” said the second; “poor jabbering bodies, who can understand them?”

The Preacher for Prisoners.

When David Dewar was a member of the Prison Board the question of appointing a chaplain for the jail came up. The favorite candidate of the other members of the Board was an unsuccessful clergyman. David, when asked to vote for him, said, “I have no objection; I hear that he has already preached a church empty, and if he will only preach the jail empty too, he is just the man for our money.”

The Squire and his Servant.

A Scotch squire was one day riding out with his man. Opposite a hole in a steep bank the master stopped and said, “John, I saw a badger go in there.” “Did you?” said John; “will you hold my horse, sir?” “Certainly,” answered the squire, and away rushed John for a spade. He got one and dug furiously for half an hour, the squire looking on with an amused look. At last John exclaimed, “I can’t find him, sir.” “I should be surprised if you could,” said the squire, “for it is ten years since I saw him go in.”

Proper Payment.

A boy went into a baker’s shop and bought a five-cent loaf. It seemed to him rather small, so he said that he did not believe it to be of full weight. “Never mind,” answered the baker, “you will have the less to carry.” “True,” replied the lad, and throwing four cents on the counter he left the shop. The baker called after him, “Hi! this is not enough money.” “Never mind,” said the boy, “you will have the less to count.”

The Corporal’s Watch.

A corporal in the life-guards of Frederick the Great was a brave but rather vain fellow. He could not afford a watch, but managed to buy a chain, and this he wore with a bullet at the end. The king, hearing of this, thought he would have a little fun at the soldier’s expense, so he said to him, “It is six o’clock by my watch; what time is it by yours?” The man drew the bullet from his pocket and answered, “My watch does not mark the hour, but it tells me every moment that it is my duty to face death for your Majesty.” “Here, my friend,” said Frederick, offering him his own costly watch, “take this, that you may be able to tell the hour also.”

Three Toasts.

When the Earl of Stair was ambassador in Holland he was once at a banquet with the French and Austrian ambassadors. The Frenchman proposed the health of his master, calling him, “The Sun.” The Austrian then proposed the health of his mistress, calling her “The Moon.” The Earl of Stair was equal to the occasion, for when his turn came he proposed the health of his sovereign as “Joshua, who made the sun and moon to stand still.”

Going to Sleep in Church.

A Scotch clergyman had a youth in his congregation who was underwitted, and was commonly spoken of as being half daft. One Sunday the clergyman observed that all his hearers were asleep except this youth. After the service the minister congratulated him upon being awake, when he naively replied, “Maybe if I hadn’t been half daft I would have been asleep too.”

Striking Back.

A little girl complained to her brother that a boy had struck her. “Why did you not strike back?” he asked. “O,” said the innocent creature, “I did that before he hit me.”

Outlines to be Turned into Narratives.

The following is an outline of one of Æsop’s fables:—

1. Donkey carrying salt—passing through stream—falls—loses load.

2. Next day loaded with salt—lies down in stream.

3. Master resolves to teach lesson—third journey load of sponge.

4. Donkey lies down—load heavier.

This outline may be filled in thus:—

A donkey laden with salt happened to fall while passing through a stream. The water melted the salt, and the donkey on getting up was delighted to find himself with nothing to carry. Next day he had to pass again, laden with salt, through the same stream. Remembering how the water had yesterday rid him of his burden, he lay down purposely, and was again rid of it. But clever as he was his master was cleverer, and resolved to teach him a lesson. On the third journey he therefore placed on the creature’s back several bags filled with sponges. The donkey lay down as before, but on getting up he found that his load, instead of being much lighter, was much heavier.

In the fable, as thus told, there are several points (printed in italics) which are not in the outline. Such little details help to make the story more real.

The Snake’s Ingratitude.

1. Cold winter’s day—snake half dead.

2. Peasant pities it—places in bosom—takes home—lays before fire.

3. Snake revives—attacks children—peasant kills it.

This outline may be filled in as follows:—

On a cold winter’s day a peasant discovered a snake that was half dead. He pitied the half-frozen creature, placed it in his bosom, and upon taking it home, laid it before the fire. The snake soon revived, and, true to its nature, attacked the children of the household, when it was promptly killed by the peasant.

The Lion and the Mouse.

1. Lion sleeping—mouse happens to wake him.

2. Lion going to kill mouse—mouse begs for mercy—mercy granted.

3. Lion caught in a net—roars—mouse hears him—nibbles net.

The Frog and the Ox.

1. Ox feeding in marshy meadow—treads among young frogs—kills many.

2. One that escapes tells mother—“Such a big beast!”

3. Vain mother asks, “So big?”—“Much bigger.”

4. Mother puffs out—“So big?”—“Much bigger.”

5. This several times—at last mother bursts.

The Hare and the Tortoise.

1. Hare jeers at tortoise for slowness.

2. Tortoise proposes race—hare accepts.

3. Tortoise starts—hare says, “Will take a nap first.”

4. When hare wakes tortoise has passed post.

5. “Slow and steady wins the race.”

Dividing the Spoils.

1. Lion, donkey and fox hunting—much spoil.

2. Lion asks donkey to divide—divides into three equal parts.

3. Lion angry—kills donkey—asks fox to divide.

4. Fox makes very great heap for lion and very little one for himself.

5. “Who taught you to divide so well?”—“The dead donkey.”

The Wind and the Sun.

1. Wind and sun dispute which is stronger.

2. Agree to try on passing traveler—which can soonest make him take off cloak.

3. Wind begins—blows furiously—traveler holds cloak the tighter.

4. Sun shines—traveler too warm—throws off cloak.

5. Kindness better than force.

The Bundle of Sticks.

1. Quarrelsome brothers—father speaks in vain.

2. Asks sons to break bundle of sticks—each tries and fails.

3. Asks them to undo bundle and break separate sticks—easy.

4. Brothers united, like bundle—quarrelsome, like separate sticks.

5. “Union is strength.”

The Goose with the Golden Eggs.

1. Man has goose—lays golden egg daily.

2. Man greedy—thinks inside must be full of gold—kills goose—finds her like all other geese.

The Frogs asking for a King.

1. Frogs ask Jupiter for a king—he laughs at their folly—throws them a log.

2. The splash frightens them—finding log still they venture to look at it—at last jump on it and despise it.

3. Ask for another king—Jupiter annoyed—sends them a stork.

4. Stork eats many—the rest ask Jupiter to take stork away—he says “No.” “Let well alone.”

The Battle of the Birds and Beasts.

1. Bat is a beast, but flies like a bird.

2. Battle between birds and beasts—bat keeps aloof.

3. Beasts appear to be winning—bat joins them.

4. Birds rally and win—bat found among victors.

5. Peace made—birds and beasts condemn bat—bat never since dared show face in daylight.

The Hart and the Vine.

1. Hart fleeing from hunters—hides among leaves of vine—hunters pass without seeing him.

2. He begins to eat leaves—a hunter hears noise—shoots hart.

3. Hart lies wounded—reproaches itself for committing so great a folly.

4. “Vine protected me; I injured it; deserved my fate.”

The Lion and the Bulls.

1. Three bulls feeding together in a meadow.

2. Lion wished to eat them—afraid of the three.

3. Lion tells each that the others have been slandering.

4. Bulls quarrel—lion kills each separately.

Saved by the Life-boat.

1. Vessel goes to sea—overtaken by storm.

2. Storm increases—ship driven on the rocks.

3. Officers and crew in distress—clinging to the rigging—making signals.

4. Seen by the Life Guard on shore.

5. Boat hurries to the rescue—heroic seamen.

6. Men on board brought ashore—benumbed—famishing.

7. Revived—grateful to rescuers.

Story of a Tramp.

1. Early home—restless youth—runs away.

2. Goes to seek his fortune—falls in with vicious companions.

3. Roams from place to place—becomes an idle beggar.

4. Young man in a police court charged with burglary—sentenced to state prison.

5. First mistake was leaving home—next, companionship—then, theft.

6. Value of home attachments—industry—honesty.

7. Beware of the first wrong step—not easy to remedy our mistakes.

Stories in Verse to be Turned into Prose.

The following poem, by Charles Kingsley, tells a touching little story:—

Three fishers went sailing away to the west,

Away to the west as the sun went down;

Each thought on the woman who loved him the best,

And the children stood watching them out of the town.

For men must work, and women must weep,

And there’s little to earn, and many to keep,

Though the harbor bar be moaning.

Three wives sat up in the lighthouse tower,

And trimmed the lamps as the sun went down;

They looked at the squall, and they looked at the shower,

And the night-rack came rolling up, ragged and brown!

But men must work, and women must weep,

Though storms be sudden and waters deep,

And the harbor bar be moaning.

Three corpses lay out on the shining sands,

In the morning gleam, as the tide went down,

And the women are weeping and wringing their hands

For those who will never come home to the town.

For men must work, and women must weep,

And the sooner it’s over the sooner to sleep,

And good-bye to the bar and its moaning.

Here is the same story, told in prose:—

One afternoon in a western port, three fishermen might be seen walking slowly down towards the beach. Heavy masses of clouds were moving rapidly overhead; the setting sun had tinged the sky an angry crimson, and the waves broke with a moaning noise over the bar at the mouth of the harbor. The fishermen knew that a storm was threatening, but still they were going to sea, for their families were large and their earnings had of late been small. Yet they were sad at heart, and as they sailed away they thought of the dear wives left behind, and of the dear children watching them out of the town.

The women were so anxious that they could not rest at home, so they went up to the lighthouse to trim the lamps and peer out into the darkness. The storm came on even sooner than was expected. A huge billow caught the fishermen’s boat and sank it, and the tide carried their dead bodies to the shore.

By morning the storm had passed, and the rising sun shone on the wet sand and on three poor women wringing their hands over the corpses of their husbands.

Note that in this prose rendering there is no attempt to preserve the poetry. Attention has been paid to the story only, and that has been told in the simplest manner. I here append a cluster of poems to be turned into prose.

THE SANDS OF DEE.

“O Mary, go and call the cattle home,

And call the cattle home,

Across the sands of Dee!”

The western wind was wild and dark with foam,

And all alone went she.

The creeping tide came up along the sand,

And o’er and o’er the sand,

And round and round the sand,

As far as eye could see;

The blinding mist came up and hid the land,

And never home came she.

Oh, is it weed, or fish, or floating hair,—

A tress of golden hair,

Of drownèd maiden’s hair,

Above the nets at sea?

Was never salmon yet that shone so fair,

Among the stakes of Dee!

They rowed her in across the rolling foam,

The cruel, crawling foam,

The cruel, hungry foam,

To her grave beside the sea;

But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home

Across the sands of Dee.—Charles Kingsley.

THE WAY TO WIN.

There’s always a river to cross,

Always an effort to make,

If there’s anything good to win,

Any rich prize to take.

Yonder’s the fruit we crave,

Yonder the charming scene;

But deep and wide, with a troubled tide,

Is the river that lies between.

PRESS ON.

Press on! there’s no such word as fail;

Press nobly on! the goal is near;

Ascend the mountain! breast the gale!

Look upward, onward—never fear!

Press on! if once, and twice thy feet

Slip back and stumble, harder try;

From him who never dreads to meet

Danger and death, they’re sure to fly.

To coward ranks the bullet speeds;

While on their breasts who never quail,

Gleams, guardian of chivalric deeds,

Bright courage, like a coat of mail.

Press on! if fortune play thee false

To-day, to-morrow she’ll be true;

Whom now she sinks, she now exalts,

Taking old gifts and granting new.

The wisdom of the present hour

Makes up for follies past and gone;

To weakness strength succeeds, and power

From frailty springs:—Press on! Press on!—Park Benjamin.

THE DYING WARRIOR.

A wounded chieftain, lying

By the Danube’s leafy side,

Thus faintly said, in dying,

“Oh! bear, thou foaming tide,

This gift to my lady bride.”

’Twas then, in life’s last quiver,

He flung the scarf he wore

Into the foaming river,

Which, ah, too quickly, bore

That pledge of one no more!

With fond impatience burning,

The chieftain’s lady stood,

To watch her love returning

In triumph down the flood,

From that day’s field of blood.

But, field, alas! ill-fated,

The lady saw, instead

Of the bark whose speed she waited,

Her hero’s scarf, all red

With the drops his heart had shed.

One shriek—and all was over—

Her life-pulse ceased to beat;

The gloomy waves now cover

That bridal flower so sweet,

And the scarf is her winding-sheet.—Thomas Moore.

THE BOY THAT LAUGHS.

I know a funny little boy,

The happiest ever born;

His face is like a beam of joy,

Although his clothes are torn.

I saw him tumble on his nose,

And waited for a groan;

But how he laughed! Do you suppose

He struck his funny bone?

There’s sunshine in each word he speaks;

His laugh is something grand;

Its ripples overrun his cheeks

Like waves on snowy sand.

He laughs the moment he awakes,

And till the day is done,

The school-room for a joke he takes,

His lessons are but fun.

No matter how the day may go,

You cannot make him cry.

He’s worth a dozen boys I know,

Who pout and mope and sigh.

THE CAT’S BATH.

As pussy sat washing her face by the gate,

A nice little dog came to have a good chat;

And after some talk about matters of state,

Said, with a low bow, “My dear Mrs. Cat,

I really do hope you’ll not think I am rude;

I am curious, I know, and that you may say—

Perhaps you’ll be angry; but no, you’re too good—

Pray why do you wash in that very odd way?

“Now I every day rush away to the lake,

And in the clear water I dive and I swim;

I dry my wet fur with a run and a shake,

And am fresh as a rose and neat as a pin.

But you any day in the sun may be seen,

Just rubbing yourself with your red little tongue;

I admire the grace with which it is done—

But really, now, are you sure you get yourself clean?”

The cat, who sat swelling with rage and surprise

At this, could no longer her fury contain,

For she had always supposed herself rather precise,

And of her sleek neatness had been somewhat vain;

So she flew at poor doggy and boxed both his ears,

Scratched his nose and his eyes, and spit in his face,

And sent him off yelping; from which it appears

Those who ask prying questions may meet with disgrace.

THE BEGGAR MAN.

Around the fire, one wintry night,

The farmer’s rosy children sat;

The fagot lent its blazing light,

And jokes went round, and careless chat;

When, hark! a gentle hand they hear

Low tapping at the bolted door;

And thus, to gain their willing ear,

A feeble voice was heard implore:—

“Cold blows the blast across the moor,

The sleet drives hissing in the wind;

Yon toilsome mountain lies before,

A dreary, treeless waste behind.

“My eyes are weak and dim with age,

No road, no path can I descry;

And these poor rags ill stand the rage

Of such a keen, inclement sky.

“So faint I am, these tottering feet

No more my palsied frame can bear;

My freezing heart forgets to beat,

And drifting snows my tomb prepare.

“Open your hospitable door,

And shield me from the biting blast:

Cold, cold it blows across the moor,

The weary moor that I have passed!”

With hasty steps the farmer ran,

And close beside the fire they place

The poor half-frozen beggar man,

With shaking limbs and pale-blue face.

The little children flocking came,

And chafed his frozen hands in theirs;

And busily the good old dame

A comfortable mess prepares.

Their kindness cheered his drooping soul;

And slowly down his wrinkled cheek

The big round tear was seen to roll,

Which told the thanks he could not speak.

The children then began to sigh,

And all their merry chat was o’er;

And yet they felt, they knew not why,

More glad than they had done before.—Aiken.

THE SHOWER-BATH.

Quoth Dermot (a lodger at Mrs. O’Flynn’s),

“How queerly my shower-bath feels!

It shocks like a posse of needles and pins,

Or a shoal of electrical eels.”

Quoth Murphy, “Then mend it, and I’ll tell you how

It’s all your own fault, my good fellow:

I used to be bothered as you are, but now

I’m wiser—I take my umbrella.”—James Smith.

QUEEN MARY’S RETURN TO SCOTLAND.

After a youth by woes o’ercast,

After a thousand sorrows past,

The lovely Mary once again

Set foot upon her native plain;

Knelt on the pier with modest grace,

And turned to heaven her beauteous face.

’Twas then the caps in air were blended,

A thousand thousand shouts ascended,

Shivered the breeze around the throng,

Gray barrier cliffs the peals prolong;

And every tongue gave thanks to heaven,

That Mary to their hopes was given.

Her comely form and graceful mien

Bespoke the lady and the queen;

The woes of one so fair and young

Moved every heart and every tongue.

Driven from her home, a helpless child,

To brave the winds and billows wild;

An exile bred in realms afar,

Amid commotions, broils, and war.

In one short year, her hopes all crossed

A parent, husband, kingdom, lost!

And all ere eighteen years had shed

Their honors o’er her royal head.

For such a queen, the Stuart’s heir,—

A queen so courteous, young, and fair,—

Who would not every foe defy?

Who would not stand—who would not die?

Light on her airy steed she sprung,

Around with golden tassels hung;

No chieftain there rode half so free,

Or half so light and gracefully.

How sweet to see her ringlets pale

Wide waving in the southland gale,

Which through the broomwood blossoms flew,

To fan her cheeks of rosy hue!

Whene’er it heaved her bosom’s screen,

What beauties in her form were seen!

And when her courser’s mane it swung,

A thousand silver bells were rung.

A sight so fair, on Scottish plain,

A Scot shall never see again!—Hogg.

THE EAGLE AND SERPENT.

In the air do I behold indeed

An eagle and a serpent wreathed in fight,

And now, relaxing its impetuous flight,

Before th’ aerial rock on which I stood,

The eagle hovering wheeled to left and right,

And hung with lingering wings over the flood,

And startled with its yells the wide air’s solitude.

A shaft of light upon its wings descended,

And every golden feather gleamed therein,

Feather and scale inextricably blended:

The serpent’s mailed and many-colored skin

Shone through the plumes, its coils were twined within,

With many a swoln and knotted fold; and high

And far the neck receding lithe and thin,

Sustained a crested head, which warily

Shifted, and glanced before the eagle’s steadfast eye.

Around, around, in ceaseless circles wheeling,

With clang of wings and scream the eagle sailed

Incessantly; sometimes on high concealing

Its lessening orbs, sometimes as if it failed,

Drooped through the air, and still it shrieked and wailed,

And, casting back its eager head, with beak

And talon unremittingly assailed

The wreathèd serpent, who did ever seek

Upon his enemy’s heart a mortal wound to wreak.—Shelley.

ASK AND HAVE.

“Oh, ’tis time I should talk to your mother,

Sweet Mary,” says I;

“Oh, don’t talk to my mother,” says Mary,

Beginning to cry:

“For my mother says men are deceivers,

And never, I know, will consent;

She says girls in a hurry who marry,

At leisure repent.”

“Then, suppose I would talk to your father,

Sweet Mary,” says I;

“Oh, don’t talk to my father,” says Mary,

Beginning to cry:

“For my father, he loves me so dearly,

He’ll never consent I should go—

If you talk to my father,” says Mary,

“He’ll surely say ‘No.’”

“Then how shall I get you, my jewel?

Sweet Mary,” says I;

“If your father and mother’s so cruel,

Most surely I’ll die!”

“Oh, never say die, dear,” says Mary;

“A way now to save you I see;

Since my parents are both so contrary—

You’d better ask me.”—Lover.

WHAT WAS HIS CREED?

He left a load of anthracite

In front of a poor widow’s door

When the deep snow, frozen and white,

Wrapped street and square, mountain and moor—

That was his deed:

He did it well;

“What was his creed?”

I cannot tell.

Blessed “in his basket and his store,”

In sitting down and rising up;

When more he got he gave the more,

Withholding not the crust and cup;

He took the lead

In each good task;

“What was his creed?”

I did not ask.

His charity was like the snow,

Soft, white, and silken in its fall;

Not like the noisy winds that blow

From shivering trees the leaves; a pall

For flower and weed,

Dropping below;

“What was his creed?”

The poor may know.

He had great faith in loaves of bread

For hungry people, young and old;

And hope inspired, kind words he said,

To those he sheltered from the cold,

For he must feed

As well as pray;

“What was his creed?”

I cannot say.

THE OLD REAPER.

Mid the brown-haired and the black-haired men,

With ruddy faces aglow,

The old man stood in the harvest field,

With a head as white as snow.

“Let me cut a sheaf, my boys,” he said,

“Before it is time to go.”

They put the sickle within his hand:

He bowed to the windy wheat;

Pleasantly fell the golden ears,

With the corn flowers at his feet.

He lifted a handful, thoughtfully;

It was ripe and full and sweet.

“Many and many a sheaf,” he said,

“I have cut in the years gone past;

And many and many a sheaf these arms

On the harvest wains have cast.

But, children dear, I am weary now,

And I think this is—the last.

“Let me rest awhile beneath the tree;

For I like to watch you go,

With sickles bright, through the ripe, full wheat,

And to feel the fresh wind blow.”

And they spread their working coats for him

’Mong the grasses sweet and low.

When the sun grew high they came again,

For a drink and their bread and meat;

And in the shadow he sleeping lay,

With sunshine on his feet.

Like a child at night, outspent with play,

He lay in slumber sweet.

THE GALLANT SAIL-BOAT.

The boat, impatient of delay,

With spreading, white wings flew away,

Pushed its bold venture more and more.

Left far behind the fading shore,

And glided on, swan-like and free,

A thing of life, sylph of the sea.

The speed grew swift, each eager sail

Swelled as it caught the gentle gale,

And so, with canvas all unfurled,

Around the prow the waters curled,

And wreaths of spray, formed one by one,

Made rainbows in the shining sun.

The lively breeze then stiffer grew,

The sail-boat leaped and darted through

Each billow as it struck her breast,

Or, mounting upward, skimmed the crest,

Plunged down into the hollow graves,

Made by the fast advancing waves,

Then rose again with graceful bound,

Wet with the white-caps splashing round,

And in her frolicsome advance,

Moved like a maiden in the dance.

Careening low upon her side,

No bird that cuts the air could glide

More deftly than she gaily flew,

Light-hearted, o’er the waters blue.

And just as gay were those on board,

Their youthful spirits in accord.

As well-tuned strings wake with a thrill,

Touched by the harpist’s facile skill,

So these young hearts were in attune,

And carolled like the birds of June.

The pleasure-seekers, side by side,

Rode with the wind, rode with the tide,

While sparkling jest and blithesome song,

And bursts of laughter loud and long,

Spontaneous mirth and shouts of glee,

Went floating o’er the ruffled sea.—Davenport.

WOOING.

A little bird once met another bird,

And whistled to her, “Will you be my mate?”

With fluttering wings she twittered, “How absurd!

Oh, what a silly pate!”

And off into a distant tree she flew,

To find concealment in the shady cover;

And passed the hours in slily peeping through

At her rejected lover.

The jilted bird, with drooping heart and wing,

Poured forth his grief all day in plaintiff songs;

Telling in sadness to the ear of spring

The story of his wrongs.

But little thought he, while each nook and dell

With the wild music of his plaint was thrilling,

That scornful breast with sighs began to swell—

Half-pitying and half-willing.

Next month I walked the same sequestered way,

When close together on a twig I spied them;

And in a nest half-hid with leaves there lay

Four little birds beside them.

Coy maid, this moral in your ear I drop:

When lover’s hopes within their hearts you prison,

Fly out of sight and hearing; do not stop

To look behind and listen.—Soule.

MISS LAUGH AND MISS FRET.

Cries little Miss Fret,

In a very great pet:

“I hate this warm weather; it’s horrid to tan.

It scorches my nose,

And blisters my toes,

And wherever I go, I must carry a fan.”

Chirps little Miss Laugh:

“Why, I couldn’t tell half

The fun I am having this bright summer day.

I sing through the hours,

I cull pretty flowers,

And ride like a queen on the sweet smelling hay.”

MONTEREY.

We were not many, we who stood

Before the iron sleet that day;

Yet many a gallant spirit would

Give half his years if but he could

Have with us been at Monterey.

Now here, now there, the shot it hailed

In deadly drifts of fiery spray,

Yet not a single soldier quailed

When wounded comrades round him wailed

Their dying shout at Monterey.

And on, still on, our column kept

Through walls of flame its wavering way;

Where fell the dead, the living stepped,

Still charging on the guns which swept

The slippery streets of Monterey.

The foe himself recoiled aghast,

When, striking where he strongest lay,

We swooped his flanking batteries past,

And braving full their murderous blast,

Stormed home the towers of Monterey.

Our banners on those turrets wave,

And there our evening bugles play,

Where orange-boughs above their grave,

Keep green the memory of the brave

Who fought and fell at Monterey.

We are not many, we who pressed

Beside the brave who fell that day;

But who of us has not confessed

He’d rather share their warrior rest

Than not have been at Monterey?—Hoffman.

A WOMAN’S WATCH.

Oh, I am a woman’s watch, am I,

But I would that I were not;

For if you knew, you would not deny

That mine is a sorry lot.

She will let me rest for a great long while,

Then all of a sudden seek

To twist me up so tight that I’ll

Keep going for a week.

She leaves me open when she will,

Till I’m sick of dirt and things;

Of pins and hair I have got my fill,

And of buttons, hooks and strings.

There’s a four-leaf clover in me, too,

And a piece of a photograph;

I’m stuffed completely through and through

With toothpicks, cloves and chaff.

My hands are twisted to and fro,

I’m thumped and jarred, alack!

And then, if I fail to straightway go,

I’m pounded front and back.

With her hat-pin all my wheels she’ll pry

Till she breaks them every one,

And then she’ll say: “I don’t see why

This mean old thing won’t run!”

LOVE LIGHTENS LABOR.

A good wife rose from her bed one morn,

And thought, with a nervous dread,

Of the piles of clothes to be washed, and more

Than a dozen mouths to be fed,

“There’s the meals to be got for the men in the field,

And the children to fix away

To school, and the milk to be skimmed and churned;

And all to be done this day.”

It had rained in the night, and all the wood

Was wet as it could be;

There were puddings and pies to bake, besides

A loaf of cake for tea.

And the day was hot, and her aching head

Throbbed wearily as she said.

“If maidens but knew what good wives know,

They would not be in haste to wed!”

“Jennie, what do you think I told Ben Brown?”

Called the farmer from the well;

And a flush crept up to his bronzed brow,

And his eyes half-blushingly fell:

“It was this,” he said, and coming near

He smiled, and stooping down,

Kissed her cheek—“’twas this, that you were the best

And the dearest wife in town!”

The farmer went back to the field, and the wife,

In a smiling, absent way,

Sang snatches of tender little songs

She’d not sung for many a day.

And the pain in her head was gone, and the clothes

Were white as the foam of the sea;

Her bread was light, and her butter was sweet,

And as golden as it could be.

“Just think,” the children all called in a breath,

“Tom Wood has run off to sea!

He wouldn’t, I know, if he’d only had

As happy a home as we.”

The night came down, and the good wife smiled

To herself, as she softly said:

“’Tis so sweet to labor for those we love—

It’s not strange that maids will wed!”

ABOU BEN ADHEM.

Abou Ben Adhem—may his tribe increase!

Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,

And saw, within the moonlight in his room,

Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,

An angel, writing in a book of gold.

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,

And to the Presence in the room he said,

“What writest thou?” The vision raised its head,

And, with a look made all of sweet accord,

Answered, “The names of those who love the Lord.”

“And is mine one?” said Abou. “Nay, not so,”

Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,

But cheerily still; and said, “I pray thee, then,

Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.”

The angel wrote and vanished. The next night

It came again with a great wakening light,

And showed the names whom love of God had blessed;

And lo! Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest.—Leigh Hunt.

ESSAYS TO BE WRITTEN FROM OUTLINES.

It is considered best by most experienced writers to prepare a plan of the composition, of whatever character it may be. In this way you are able to properly arrange your thoughts, and are less likely to omit something which ought to be treated.

There are authors who map out in their minds a general plan without committing it formally to paper. The disadvantage of this method is that something is liable to be forgotten, or inserted in the wrong place. Many authors compose a whole book with nothing more in mind than the general outline: others draw out what lawyers would call a “brief,” from which they build up their production step by step.

To aid you in learning how to write compositions, I have inserted here the outlines of essays from which the complete productions are to be written. Many of these subjects will compel you to consult books in order that you may obtain the information you require, yet this will only be a benefit to you, and will amply repay all the time and labor you expend.

You do not need to confine yourself to the thoughts suggested in these outlines. Think for yourself; do not always go on crutches. Introduce new matter and express whatever is suggested to your mind, that will make your production complete and interesting.

The following is an outline of a brief and simple essay on “The Cat.”

1. Where found.

2. Why kept.

3. Fitted to be a beast of prey:—(a) Teeth; (b) Claws; (c) Pads.

4. Fitted for night prowling:—(a) Fur; (b) Eyes.

5. Fitted to be a pet.

6. Habits.

The outline may be filled in thus:—

A cat is found in nearly every house. Sometimes it is kept as a pet only, and sometimes it is kept only to catch mice, but most people keep one for both purposes. The cat is fitted by nature to be a beast of prey; hence its claws and teeth are sharp and long, and under its feet are pads, which enable it to walk without making a noise. The cat is also fitted for prowling at night. Its thick fur keeps it from feeling cold, and its wonderful eyes enable it to see almost in the dark. Cats make good pets because they are pretty, clean and gentle. They like to lie on something soft and warm. When stroked they purr. Kittens are very playful.

Dog.

1. Found nearly all over world; friend to man.

2. Uses:—Hunting, guarding, minding sheep, etc.

3. Description: Teeth for tearing, legs for running, coat for warmth; differences between cat and dog.

4. Habits.

Kinds of Dogs.

1. Name various kinds.

2. Showing how structure of each kind fits it for its work; as

(a) Greyhound—shape, legs, chest for swiftness.

(b) Bloodhound—broad head, large nose for smell.

(d) Newfoundland—thick, oily coat, webbed feet etc., etc.

Hay.

1. Grass allowed to grow from early spring.

2. Ripe in June or July.

3. Cut with a scythe or machine.

4. Spread out to dry in sun—turned over—raked into “cocks”—carted.

Grain.

1. Different kinds:—wheat, barley, oats.

2. Sown in spring (wheat sometimes late in autumn).

3. Ground prepared by ploughing, harrowing.

4. Sowing (describe).

5. Weeding.

6. Harvesting:—cut with sickle, scythe or machine—bound—carted.

Flour.

1. Wheat threshed to get grain and chaff from ear.

2. Winnowed to separate chaff from grain.

3. Ground in mill (wind, steam).

4. Skin (bran) separated from flour.

Bread.

1. Generally made from flour.

2. Flour mixed with water, a little salt and yeast, into sponge—yeast to make it “rise.”

3. Made into loaves.

4. Baked in oven.

Butter.

1. Made from cream.

2. Milk placed in shallow pans—cream rises—skimmed.

3. Cream begins to turn sour—churned.

4. Describe churn.

5. Churning divides cream into butter and buttermilk.

6. Butter run off—butter washed.

7. Beaten, often salted, moulded.

Lion.

1. Cat kind—teeth, claws, sheath pad.

2. About four feet high, tawny yellow, tufted tail, mane of male.

3. Lion like cat steals up to prey.

4. Brave.

5. Cubs playful.

Tiger.

1. Compare tiger and lion:—

(a) Lion in Africa and Asia, tiger in Asia.

(b) Tiger as strong, more fierce and cunning.

(d) Tiger, like lion, lies in wait.

2. Man-eating tigers.

3. Hunted, often on elephants.

Elephant.

1. Largest land animal, eight to ten feet high.

2. Very heavy body, thick skin, little hair, legs thick.

3. Head large, tusks sixty to seventy pounds each.

4. Short neck; why?

5. Trunk; why needed?—describe.

6. Clever, obedient, faithful.

Stories of Elephants.

Tell a story showing cleverness of elephant.

Owl.

1. Night bird; therefore eyes large, hearing sharp, feathers thick.

2. Downy feathers make flight silent.

3. Beak and claws.

4. Food.

5. Haunts.

Swallow.

1. Made for speed; feathers firm and close, wings large, tail long and pointed, legs short.

2. Lives on insects; large, wide mouth.

3. Bird of passage; comes in spring, leaves in autumn.

4. Kind:—

(a) Chimney martin or swallow—builds often under eaves.

(b) Sand martin: smallest, builds in sandy banks or cliffs.

Cuckoo.

1. Named from cry.

2. Bird of passage—

In April

Come he will; ...

In July

He prepares to fly;

In August

Go he must.

3. Description:—size of magpie or small pigeon; color:—blue gray above; white, with slaty bars below; wings black, with white at tips.

4. Lays eggs in nest of other birds—often a hedge-sparrow.

Tea.

1. From China, Assam, Ceylon.

2. Evergreen shrub, glossy leaves, white flower.

3. Three crops a year, first and best in spring.

4. Leaves gathered, placed in shallow baskets, dried first in sun, then over charcoal; rolled between hands.

5. Two kinds, green and black.

Coffee.

1. Arabia, Brazil, East and West Indies, Ceylon.

2. Evergreen tree, eight to twelve feet high.

3. Tree bears a dark red berry, size of cherry, and containing two hard seeds (the coffee “bean”) each in a skin.

4. Berries gathered, dried, passed under rollers to remove skin.

5. Roasted in a closed iron vessel over slow fire.

6. Ground.

Coal.

1. How formed:—Places where forests, woods, etc., growing, sank—covered with water bringing soil—rose again—vegetable remains hardened into coal.

2. Hence found in layers.

3. Mining:—shaft, galleries.

4. Dangers:—fall of roof; flooding; explosions of “fire-damp;” afterwards “choke-damp.”

5. Safety lamp.

Iron.

1. Iron ore found in many places, worked on coal fields; why?

2. To drive away sulphur roasted in kiln, or with layers of coal on ground.

3. Mixed with coal and lime and placed in blast furnace.

4. Earthy matters unite with lime to form “slag.”

5. Melted iron falls to bottom—run off “cast iron.”

6. Carbon added to iron to make steel.

Spring.

1. What months?

2. Welcome season after short, cold days of winter.

3. Trees and flowers—blossom.

4. Sowing.

5. Pleasant walks in the country.

Christmas.

1. When?

2. Most general holiday.

3. Why kept—“peace and goodwill.”

4. How kept:—business stopped; cards; presents; meetings of friends; Christmas fare; trees.

Your School.

1. Name.

2. Situation.

3. History.

4. Subjects taught.

5. Games.

6. How you may do credit to it.

Any Town.

1. Name.

2. Situation.

3. Population.

4. Chief industry.

5. Chief buildings.

6. History.

Linen.

1. Made from flax-plant about four feet high, blue flower.

2. Ripe flax pulled up, dried.

3. Seed (linseed) removed by pulling stalks through a kind of comb.

4. Stalks consist of two parts, woody and fibrous.

5. Steeped in water to make separation of two easier.

6. Beaten to break woody part.

7. Combed to remove it.

8. Spun, bleached, woven.

9. Uses.

Blind Man’s Buff.

1. One of the players has handkerchief tied over eyes.

2. Tries to catch any of the others.

3. If he catches any one he must say who it is.

4. If he succeeds, player caught takes his place.

5. The fun of the game.

Base Ball.

1. Describe bases (number, positions, etc.).

2. Describe bat and ball.

3. How many players?

4. Pitcher, catcher, basemen, fielders.

5. How “runs” are made.

6. How a player is “out.”

7. How one side is out.

8. Which “team” wins?

The Blacksmith’s Shop.

1. Describe the blacksmith.

2. His work.

3. Fire, bellows.

4. Anvil, hammers, tongs, water-trough.

5. “The children coming home from school....”

The Carpenter’s Shop.

1. Work.

2. Bench, planes, chisels, hammers, mallets, axe, adze, gimlets, saws, rule.

3. Compare blacksmith and carpenter.

Soldier.

1. Appearance.

2. Work.

3. Where he lives in peace and in war.

4. Recruits, drill, reviews, band.

5. Battle.

6. Qualities of a soldier.

A Farm Laborer.

1. Work varies with season.

2. In spring work connected with sowing.

3. Summer—weeding, haymaking.

4. Autumn—harvesting; sometimes ploughing.

5. Winter—looking after stock.

A Visit to Washington.

1. On what river situated?

2. Founded when? When captured by the British?

3. Streets and avenues.

4. Capitol building, dome, Senate chamber, Chamber of the House of Representatives.

5. White House.

6. Buildings of Government Departments.

7. Smithsonian Institute.

8. Washington’s monument.

Cleanliness.

1. Of person.

(a) Describe pores. Waste of body passes through them like smoke up a chimney; therefore must be kept open.

(b) Diseases arise if waste cannot pass off.

2. Of clothes.

Clean person impossible in dirty clothes.

3. Of houses.

(a) Dust passes into lungs.

(b) Dirty houses—bad smells.

Lying.

1. What it is—willful attempt to deceive.

2. Words may be true and yet a lie because meant to deceive.

3. There may be lies without words.

4. Why wrong.

5. Consequence to liar—not believed even when speaking truth.

6. Fable of boy that cried “Wolf.”

Cruelty to Animals.

1. Animals can feel.

2. How would you like cruel treatment?

3. “Do unto others....”

4. Animals grateful for kindness.

5. Any story to show this.

Thrift.

1. “Penny saved, penny earned.”

2. Name some things on which children spend money needlessly.

3. Advantages of saving:—“Take care of the pennies and the dollars will take care of themselves;” savings can be turned to account; provision for a “rainy day.”

4. Aids to thrift:—Savings banks, building societies, etc.

Make Hay while the Sun Shines.

1. Meaning of proverb. Hay is grass dried in the sun; if not “made” on first opportunity, it may be spoiled by rain.

2. Proverb teaches us to miss no opportunity.

3. Reasons:—Do not know what may happen by to-morrow; chance perhaps lost forever; “The mill cannot grind with the water that is past.”

4. Story to show danger of putting off.

A Rolling Stone Gathers no Moss.

1. Meaning of the proverb—persevere.

2. Illustrations:—

(a) If you do not finish a study begun, all the time spent on it is wasted.

(b) Three removes are as bad as a fire.

“Virtue is its Own Reward.”

1. Virtue often gains for a man honor, wealth, friends.

2. But though it brought no such rewards it should be sought.

3. For the approval of one’s own conscience is more important than the approval of any one else.

Easy Subjects for Compositions.

Rabbit. Fox. Pig. Mouse. Bear. Camel. Monkey. Sheep. Goat. Cow. Hen. Duck. Robin. Lark. Canary. Ostrich. Eagle. Pigeon. Gull. Sparrow. Whale. Seal. Bee. Spider. Fly. Butterfly. Shark. Herring. Mackerel. Crab. Cod. Frog. Crocodile. Turtle. Adder. Cocoa. Sugar. Sago. Cork. India rubber. Potato. Turnip. Salt. Lead. Tin. Copper. Gold. Knife. Glass. Paper. Soap. Pins. Needles. Candles. Cotton. Silk. Woollen cloth. Autumn. Winter. Any game with marbles. Making and flying kites. Boating. Swimming. Fishing. Football. Skating. Lawn tennis. Punctuality. Industry. Perseverance. Obedience. Bad language. Good manners. Good habits. Temperance. Honesty. The “Golden Rule.” How to make yourself useful at home.

Describe:—(a) A house. (b) A street. (c) A church. (d) Any village. (e) Any town. (f) A farm. (g) A mill. (h) The sea-side. (i) Common spring flowers. (j) The most beautiful place you have seen. (k) A snow-storm. (l) A thunder-storm.

Describe the life and work of:—(a) A mason. (b) A gardener. (c) A teacher. (d) A doctor. (e) A sailor. (f) A policeman. (g) A postman. (h) A tailor. (i) A baker. (j) A shepherd. (k) A fisherman. (l) An errand-boy. (m) A painter.

Describe a visit to:—(a) The seaside. (b) Chicago or some other large town. (c) The Zoological Gardens or a menagerie. (d) A circus. (e) A school exhibition. (f) A department store. (g) A country dairy. (h) A picture gallery.

Tell a story about:—(a) A dog. (b) A cat. (c) A horse. (d) A monkey. (e) A parrot. (f) An elephant. (g) A hen.

Tell any stories you know illustrating the following sayings:—

(a) “Look before you leap.”

(b) “Liars are not believed even when they speak the truth.”

(d) “Penny wise and pound foolish.”

(e) “Count not your chickens before they are hatched.”

(f) “A friend in need is a friend indeed.”

(g) “Union is strength.”

Explain and illustrate the following proverbs:—

(a) “A stitch in time saves nine.”

(b) “A prudent man foreseeth the evil; fools pass on and are punished.”

(d) “Strike the iron while it is hot.”

(e) “Touch pitch and be defiled.”

(f) “Rome was not built in a day.”

(g) “No gains without pains.”

(h) “Nothing venture nothing win.”