SECTION IV

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE IN ORAL READING

(Relating to Chapters IX, X, and XI)

For convenience this material has been arranged according to the four methods of approach discussed in Chapter X. Many of the selections could have been placed in some other division quite as appropriately as the one in which they appear. This is a matter of slight importance, however, since an adequate reading of practically all of the passages will require more than the one kind of preparation. Questions and exercises follow in Section V.

A. SELECTIONS ILLUSTRATING MAINLY THE INTELLECTUAL

APPROACH

Numbers 1-20 are short selections, chiefly expositional; numbers 21-30 illustrate various types of public address; numbers 31-42 illustrate various theories of speech education.

1

ai sed dǝt' "litǝrerı skölə(r)Şıp " ız ə mıslidıŋ freiz |·| tʊ bi skolə(r)lı ın lıtərətsvə(r) | aı Şəd oiŋk | wǝd bi tʊ noʊ litǝrǝtsvə(r) 0зrəli ənd tʊ noʊ it æz.ǝn a(r)t |—tʊ bi sensitiv tǝ də laıf it ekspresiz tʊ bi waız ın də saıkülədzı əv də raıtər ənd də ridə(r) | to Andǝ(r)stænd də kaınd ǝv truel dət kən bi sed in wa(r)dz | ǝnd də kaind ǝv bjutı' læŋgwidz kən kriert |·|

2

It iz not mitǝ(r)z | bət ə mirtǝ(r) merkin a(r)gjumǝnt | dət merks ǝ poʊim || ǝ ooit soʊ pæsənıt ənd əlaıv | dət laik də spirit ǝv ə plant' ər ən ænıml❘ it hæz ən a(r)kıtɛktsər əv its oʊn | ǝnd

ədə:(r)nz neit§ə(r) wið ǝ nju birŋ də it ənd də fə(r)m ər i:kwəl' ın dı ɔ(r)dər əv taım || bət ın dı ə:(r)dər əv dzenısıs | Də eɔit iz praiə(r) tə də fɔ:(r)m |·|

3

ju wil terk kɛə(r) tʊ oʊpn jʊə(r) ti:e huen ju spiik | tʊ a:(r)tıkjulert evri wз:(r)d dıstıŋktlı | ǝnd tǝ beg əv mıstə(r) ha(r)t | mistə(r) ɛlıət |ə(r) hu:mɛvə(r) ju spik tu | tə rimaınd ǝnd stop ju if evǝ(r) ju foil intʊ də ræpid and Anintelidzibl matə(r) |·| ju wil ivn rid əlaʊd tǝ jʊə(r)self | ǝnd tju:n jʊər atərəns tǝ juər oʊn 1ǝ(r) || ǝnd rı:d ǝt fз(r)st | mats moə(r) sloʊlı dən ju niid tə du | in ədə(r) tə kərɛkt juǝ(r)self ǝv dæt Seimfǝl trik ǝv spiikin fastǝ(r) dǝn ju ǝt |.|

-lǝ(r)d testǝ(r)fi:ldz letə (r)z tə(h)ız san.

4

tɔıkıŋ iz wan əv də krieitiv a(r)ts | fə(r) baı ıt ju bild ap einz dət hæv | Ʌntil tɔ:kt ǝbaʊt | noʊ Igzistǝns || satС əz skændlz | si:krits | kworǝlz | lıtərəri ənd a(r)tıstık stændə(r)dz | əıl kaındz əv points ǝv vju: ǝbaʊt pз: (r)snz ǝnd einz ||

let as tok | wi ser | mi:nıŋ | lɛt as si: hunt wı kən krieit | ǝr in hunt wer wi mer trænsmjut dǝ fækts dǝt a:(r) | Intǝ fækts dǝt a:(r) not jet || It iz wan ǝv də mædzık a:(r)ts |·| də trabl əbaʊt It iz dǝtivn moə(r) dən ði aðǝr a:(r)ts | It iz præktist baı də stjupid | hu kən krieit načiŋ wз(r)℗ krieıtıŋ |·|

5

tʊ bi | ɔ not tʊ bi || ðæt iz də kwestSn||
hɛdə tiz noʊblər ın də maınd | tʊ safə
də stiŋz ǝnd ærouz ǝv aʊtreidzǝs fɔtjun ||
ɔ tʊ terk ɑmz əgɛnst ǝ si əv trablz |

and bar ǝpoʊzıŋ | end dǝm? || to dar || to slip ||
noʊ moǝ || ænd bar ǝ slip | tu ser wi end
də haterk | ǝnd də saʊzənd nætsurǝl Soks
də flɛs iz ɛə tu || tiz ǝ konsʊmersǝn'
divaʊtli to bi wist || to dar || to slip ||
to slip || patSans to drim || a1 | dɛəz də rab ||
för in ðæt slip ǝv dɛe | hot drimz mer kam |
hen wi hæv Safld of dis mǝtl knil |
mast giv as pɔz |·|

6

Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
In all my miseries; but thou hast forc'd me,
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.

Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell;
And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be,

And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee;
Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory,
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour,
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in;
A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.

SHAKESPEARE, Henry VIII

7

The regret we have for our childhood is not wholly justifiable; so much a man may lay down without fear of public ribaldry; for although we shake our heads over the change, we are not unconscious of the manifold advantages of our new state. What we lose in generous impulse, we more than gain in the habit of generously watching others; and the capacity to enjoy Shakespeare may balance a lost aptitude for playing at soldiers. Terror is gone out of our lives, moreover; we no longer see the Devil in the bedcurtains nor lie awake to listen to the wind. We go to school no more; and if we have only exchanged one drudgery for another (which is by no means sure), we are set free forever from the daily fear of chastisement. And yet a great change has overtaken us; and although we do not enjoy ourselves less, at least we take our pleasures differently. We need pickles nowadays to make Wednesday's cold mutton please our Friday's appetite; and I can remember the time when to call it red venison, and tell myself a hunter's story, would have made it more palatable than the best of sauces. To the grown person, cold mutton is cold mutton all the world over; not all the mythology invented by man will make it better or worse to him; the broad fact, the clamant reality, of the mutton carries away before it such seductive figments. But for the child it is still possible to weave an enchantment over eatables; and if he has but read of a dish in a story book, it will be heavenly manna to him for a week.

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON, "Child's Play"

8

The place was worthy of such a trial. It was the great hall of William Rufus, the hall which had resounded with acclamations at the inauguration of thirty kings, the hall which had witnessed the just sentence of Bacon and the just absolution of Somers, the hall where the eloquence of Strafford had for a moment awed and melted a victorious party inflamed with just resentment, the hall where Charles had confronted the High Court of Justice with the placid courage which has half redeemed his fame. Neither military nor civil pomp was wanting. The avenues were lined with grenadiers. The streets were kept clear by cavalry. The peers, robed in gold and ermine, were marshalled by the heralds under Garter King-at-arms. The judges in their vestments of state attended to give advice on points of law. Near a hundred and seventy lords, three fourths of the Upper House as the Upper House then was, walked in solemn order from their usual place of assembling to the tribunal. The gray old walls were hung with scarlet. The long galleries were crowded by an audience such as has rarely excited the fears or the emulations of an orator. There were gathered together, from all parts of a great, free, enlightened, and prosperous empire, grace and female loveliness, wit and learning, the representatives of every science and of every art. There the Ambassadors of Great Kings and Commonwealths gazed with admiration on a spectacle which no other country in the world could present.

MACAULAY, Essay on Warren Hastings

9

A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict everything you said to-day— 'Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood.'-Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood . . .

EMERSON, "Self-Reliance"

-10

To a homeless man, who has no spot on this wide world which he can truly call his own, there is a momentary feeling of something like independence and territorial consequence when, after a weary day's travel, he kicks off his boots, thrusts his feet into his slippers, and stretches himself before an inn fire. Let the world go as it may; let kingdoms rise or fall; so long as he has the wherewithal to pay his bill, he is, for the time being, the very monarch of all he surveys. The armchair is his throne, the poker his scepter, and the little parlor, of some twelve feet square, his undisputed empire. It is a morsel of certainty snatched from the midst of the uncertainties of life; it is a sunny moment gleaming out of a cloudy day. Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn? thought I, as I gave the fire a stir, lolled back in my elbowchair, and cast a complacent look about the little parlor of the Red Horse at Stratford-on-Avon.

IRVING, Sketch Book

11

The Moslem quarter of a city is lonely and desolate; you go up and down, and on, over shelving and hillocky paths, through narrow lanes walled in by blank, windowless dwellings; you come out upon an open space strewn with the black ruins that some late fire has left; you pass by a mountain of castaway things, the rubbish of centuries, and on it you see numbers of big, wolf-like dogs torpid under the sun, with limbs outstretched to the full, as if they were dead; storks, or cranes, sitting fearless upon the low roofs, look gravely down upon you; the still air that you breathe is loaded with the scent of citron and pomegranate rinds scorched by the sun, or (as you approach the Bazaar) with the dry, dead perfume of strange spices. You long for some signs of life, and tread the ground more heavily, as though you would wake the sleepers with the heel of your boot; but the foot falls noiseless upon the crumbling soil of an Eastern city, and Silence follows you still. Again and again you meet turbans, and faces of men, but they have nothing for you-no welcome-no wonder-no wrath— no scorn-they look upon you as we do upon a December's fall of snow-as a "seasonable," unaccountable, uncomfortable work of God that may have been sent for some good purpose-to be revealed hereafter.

A. W. KINGLAKE, Eöthen