6. There stood Lincoln, a remarkable figure.
7. It was market day.
8. Close by the roadside stands a little schoolhouse.
9. In the year 1776 a remarkable event occurred.
10. His attention was arrested by a dove, pursued by a kingbird.
11. Unity in the Paragraph.—In your study of the sentence, you learned that every good sentence must have unity; that is, that the thoughts included in a sentence must be very closely associated. You are now to learn that every good paragraph must likewise have unity. A paragraph, whether it be long or short, has unity when it treats of but a single topic. The topic sentence will be a great help to you in giving your paragraphs unity. You will not be so apt to jumble into one paragraph material that should be placed in two or three, if you will, before you begin to write, decide upon the subject of your paragraph and make a topic sentence for it. You can test the unity of your paragraph by asking with respect to each sentence that you construct, "Does it relate to the subject of my paragraph?"
Exercise 31.—The following paragraphs lack unity. How many topics are treated in each?
1. In the German land of Würtemberg lies the little town of Marbach. Although this place can be ranked only among the smaller towns, it is charmingly situated on the Neckar stream, that flows on and on, hurrying past villages and old castles to pour its waters into the proud Rhine. It was late in autumn. The leaves still clung to the grapevine, but they were already tinged with red. Rainy gusts swept over the country, and the cold autumn winds increased in violence.
2. Cecelia's home was an old family mansion situated in the midst of a pleasant farm. This was inclosed by willow hedges and a broad and gently murmuring river; nearer the house were groves with rocky knolls and breezy bowers of beech. Cecelia's bosom friend at school was Alice Archer; and after they left school, the love between them rather increased than diminished.
3. Alice Archer was a delicate girl with a pale transparent complexion and large gray eyes that seemed to see visions. Her figure was slight, almost fragile; her hands white and slender. The old house in which she lived with her mother, with four sickly Lombardy poplars in front, suggested gloomy and mournful thoughts. It was one of those places that depress you as you enter. One other inmate the house had, and only one. This was Sally Manchester, the cook. She was an extraordinary woman of large frame and masculine features,—one of those who are born to work. A treasure she was to this family.