I GOOD ENGLISH j^^y^ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO • DALLAS ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO MACMILLAN & CO., Limited LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCUTTA MELBOURNE THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. TORONTO GQDD ENGLISH BY HENRY SEIDEL CANBY ^ AND JOHN BAKEI\OPDYCKE ILLUSTRATIONS BY MAUDANDMISK^ PETERgHAM THE MA.CMILLAN COMPANY, PUBUSHEI^ NEV YOI^ MCMXX // COPTBIGHT, 1918, bt the macmillan company. Set up and electrotyped. Published May, 1918, NortnooD ^xt»9 J. 8. Cashing Co. — Berwick A Smith Co. Norwood, Maaa., U.S.A. C 2 ^ PREFACE Although there has been a deluge of writing upon good EngUsh, the theory of composition in our language has been little changed since the days of those good old rhetorics of the later nineteenth century that every textbook maker mentions by way of honorable reference in his preface. But the practice of teaching written and oral English has altered, and is altering, with startling rapidity ; and this is the suffi- cient excuse for another book in the field of elementary in- struction. Rhetoric in the ^nineties was discipline plus in- struction; rhetoric today is instruction plus stimulation. We are thinking less of rules and more of writing and speak- . less miserable now. I have had experience enough to know what I say, and you need only to beheve it to feel better at once. The memory of your dear father, instead of an agony, will be yet a sad, sweet feeling in your heart, of a purer and holier sort than you have known before. Please present my kind regards to your afflicted mother. Your sincere friend, A. Lincoln. Thomas Hood to his Daughter Halle, October 23, 1837. My dear Fanny, — I hope you are as good still as when I went away — a com- fort to your good mother and a kind playfellow to your Httle brother. Mind you tell him my horse eats bread out of my hand, and walks up to the officers who are eating, and pokes his nose into the women's baskets. I wish I could give you both a ride. I hope you liked your paints; pray keep them out of Tom's way, as they are poisonous. I shall have rare stories to tell you when I come home; but mind, you must be good till then, or I shall be as mute as a stock-fish. Your mama will show you on the map where I was when I wrote this ; and when she writes will let you put in a word. You would have laughed to have seen your friend Wildegans running after the sausage-boy to buy a wurst} There was hardly an officer without one in his hand smoking hot. The men piled their gims on the grass, and sat by the side of the road, all munching at once like ogres. I had a pocket full of bread and butter, which soon went into my 'cavities,' as Mrs. Dilke calls them. I only hope I shall not get so hungry as to eat my horse. 1 Sausage. HOW TO BE INTERESTING 15 I know I need not say, keep school and mind your book, as you love to learn. You can have Minna sometimes, her papa says. Now God bless you, my dear little girl, my pet, and think of Your loving father, Thomas Hood. PRACTICE 1. Which of the above letters is the most interesting to you? What makes it so ? 2. From which of the letters do you get most information? Tell just what you have learned from it. 3. After reading each of these letters, what can you tell of the writer? Of the one written to? 4. Explain the words phaeton, chaise, refract, in the Dickens let- ter. 5. Which of the letters seems to you to have the most interesting subject matter? Which is the best written one? 6. How do all of these letters differ from letters that are written to a shop ordering goods or from letters of application? Why are these called friendly or informal letters and those on pages 116-120, business letters? 7. Notice carefully how each one of these excellent letter writers addresses the person to whom he is writing and how he closes his letter. Point out the differences in both these respects. LESSON TWO Form in Friendly Letters Study the last letter above from the point of view of form. The place and time of writing are given first, — Halle, October 23, 1837. This is called the heading. It may be written in various ways, as, — 16 GOOD ENGLISH Halle, October 23, 1837. 10 Wabash Avenue, Chicago, Illinois, April 12, 1918. 15 Queen's Terrace, Exeter, England, February 5, 1918. 14 State Street Boston, Mass. May 13, 1918 243 Market Street Philadelphia, Pa., May 3, 1918 It may occupy one line, two lines, or three lines, and it may be arranged in still other ways. In the business letter it is usually placed in the upper right-hand corner; but in the friendly letter it may be placed either here or in the lower left-hand corner, below the signature. My dear Fanny is the salutation. It must be placed on the left-hand side of the letter on a line below the head- ing. Other forms of salutation are, — Dear Fanny, My dear John — Dear Brother, — Notice that the salutation may consist of either two or three words. It is preferable not to capitalize dear when it stands as the middle word in a salutation. In friendly HOW TO BE INTERESTING 17 letters the salutation is usually followed by a comma. It may be followed, however, by a dash, or by a comma and a dash. The colon is rarely used after the salutation in friendly letters. It is usually placed after the salutation in business letters, as, — Dear Sir : Sir : My dear Sir * Dear Sirs : Madam : Gentlemen : The semicolon is never used after the salutation. That part of a letter which follows the salutation is called the body. It may follow on the same line with the salutation, or it may start on the line below, immediately at the end of the salutation. This is the letter proper, — the part that contains the message of interest. It should be written neatly and plainly. It should be carefully paragraphed, particularly if the letter is long. There should be a liberal and regular left-hand margin; there should also be a right-hand margin, though it is impossible to keep this margin quite regular. The content of the letter should be expressed naturally, without any affectation whatever. If, when your friend or relative reads your letter, he exclaims, ''That's just like the fellow!" he pays you a compliment as a letter writer. That part of a letter which follows the body is called the complimentary closing. In the Hood letter above it is, — Your loving father. Other forms of complimentary closing are, — Your son. Cordially yours, Your friend. Faithfully yours, Yours sincerely. Very truly yours. The form of the complimentary closing in friendly letters depends upon the relation between the writer and the one 18 GOOD ENGLISH written to. Very truly yours, Sincerely yours, Cordially yours, are used when the two are not closely related. More intimate forms are used in writing to members of your own family and to intimate friends. Very truly yours, or Yours very truly, is the most common complimentary closing in business letters. The complimentary closing is always followed by a comma; the first word only is capitalized. The signature follows the complimentary closing and is set in slightly to the left. It may or may not be followed by a period. It is better to sign your name in full, so that the letter may be returned to you in case it is lost. Fre- quently, however, the first name or a nickname only is signed here, especially if the letter is to one with whom you are on intimate terms. The parts of a letter therefore consist of, — 1. Heading Place Date 2. Salutation Greeting 3. Body Message or Letter content 4. Complimentary closing 5. Signature or name A sixth part is always included in business letters, namely, the address of the one written to. This is usually placed just above the salutation on a line below the last line of the heading, thus, — HOW TO BE INTERESTING 19 125 Hargrave Ave., Los Angeles, Cal., October 19, 1917. James Turner, Esq., 18 Market Street, St. Louis, Mo. My dear Sir : It is best to include this address in friendly letters also. When included, it should be placed in the lower left-hand corner of the letter, on a line directly beneath the signa- ture, thus, — Cordially yours, James Everett. Miss Sara Everett, Asheville, North Carolina. 20 GOOD ENGLISH The whole letter picture may now be summarized as follows ; note especially the placement of the various parts : — Heading 418 High Street, Ithaca, New York, October 20, 1917. Salutation My dear Clara, Body "■ Compli- mentary dosing Signature Address Miss Clara Force, 130 West 80 Street, New York City. Yours faithfully, Mary Brady Just as we may be informal in the presence of our intimate friends and in our conversation with them, so we may be informal in the letters we write them. All the letters above do not comply with the directions here set down. Liberties have been taken. It is a good rule, however, never to ignore accepted standards altogether in friendly letters. If, for HOW TO BE INTERESTING 21 instance, the full name and address of the writer of a letter are omitted; the letter, if it is not deUvered, cannot be re- turned to the sender. The name and address of the writer, as well as of the one written to, should be given in all letters. PRACTICE 1. Name the parts of a letter. Tell where each belongs in the make-up of the letter. 2. Draw a diagram showing, by means of lines, the relative place- ment and size of the letter parts. 3. Of what items does the heading consist? At what two posi- tions in a letter may it be placed? 4. Where should the salutation be placed? How should it be punctuated ? 5. Explain the capitaUzation and the punctuation of the compli- mentary closing. 6. What is meant by the body of a letter ? Where should it begin ? 7. Is the address used in a friendly letter? Where should it be placed ? 8. Explain why the foregoing rules about letter writing are im- portant. 9. You have just returned from a visit to a friend. Write an ap- propriate letter to her. (A letter such as this, written in acknowledgment of hospitahty, is sometimes called a "bread- and-butter" letter.) 10. Your school is to give a special entertainment on a certain date. Write to a friend asking her to be your guest. 11. Write to her again, telUng her how to reach your house from hers, or your town from the town in which she Kves. 12. Write your friend's reply to the invitation. 13. Write a friendly request to your teacher asking to be excused from a recitation and giving reasons therefor. 14. Write the teacher's reply to your request, granting it. 15. Write a letter to your favorite author, telling him what you enjoy most in his books. 22 GOOD ENGLISH 16. Write an imaginary letter from one well-known character in a novel or play to another. 17. Nothing interesting has happened for a week. Write a letter to a friend which will make him beheve it. 18. There is one day above all others most interesting in your life. Write a letter to a friend that will make it seem so. LESSON THREE Punctuation and Placement of Letter Parts You may mar the interest and the purpose of your letter if you are not careful to punctuate it accurately. The comma should be used, — (1) To denote the omission of words, — 120 Lenox Avenue, New York City, May 25, 1918. Here the comma takes the place of an omitted on or in. Expanded, the full heading would read, — 120 Lenox Avenue, in New York City on Mdiy 2b during \^\%, (2) To denote apposition, — Yours sincerely, James Ferguson. The name or signature is in apposition with Yours sincerely and should be separated from it by the comma. (3) To denote something to follow. The comma may thus be used after the salutation, which is a form of address in- dicating that something is to follow, thus, — Dear Tom, HOW TO BE INTERESTING 23 As pointed out above, the dash, or the comma and the dash, the colon, or the colon and the dash, may be used with the same purpose. The last two are considered more formal than the first two; they are therefore not so commonly used in friendly letters. Never make the mistake of plac- ing a period or a semicolon after the salutation. The period should be used after abbreviations, such as, St., Ave., N. Y., Pa., Colo., etc. There is a growing tendency to omit all punctuation at the ends of lines in headings and addresses, except after abbreviations. But if you omit punctuation, omit it con- sistently at the ends of all lines in the heading, and also in the address both within the letter and on the envelope. If you are inconsistent in this, you will be considered care- less and slovenly. 100 Broadway, New York City, May 3, 1918. or 100 Broadway New York City May 3, 1918 not 100 Broadway, New York City May 3 1918. Be consistent also in the arrangement of the letter parts. If you use a vertical margin for the heading, use it also in all other parts in the letter and in the address on the en- velope, thus, — 24 GOOD ENGLISH 100 Broadway, New York City, May 3, 1918. James Ferguson, Esq., 114 State Street, Boston, Mass. My dear Mr. Ferguson : Very truly yours, Thomas Everett. But if you begin with the diagonal arrangement, thus, — 100 Broadway, New York City, May 5, 1918. keep to this arrangement, as in the letter form on page 20. You should so place the parts of your letter that they will present a consistent and harmonious picture. Never be careless about the form of a letter, even when writing to your most intimate friends. Courtesy demands that you make your letter pleasant to see as well as to read. HOW TO BE INTERESTING 25 PRACTICE 1. State three rules for the use of the comma that apply particu- larly to letter writing. 2. State one rule for the use of the period that applies particularly to letter writing. 3. What caution can you give as to the omission of punctuation from the parts of a letter? 4. What is meant by the placement of parts in a letter? 5. Correct the following heading : — 215 State St. Chicago lU. Oct. 10, 1917. 6. Correct the following salutations : — Dear Bill. Dear Mother ; 7. Correct the following letter picture : — 18 Park Place Brooklyn New York Jan. 2, 1918. Dear Father — Yours truly BiU 26 GOOD ENGLISH 8. Test the letters in Lesson One for accuracy in punctuation ana placement. 9. Test the letters you wrote under Lesson Two for accuracy in punctuation and placement. 10. Is it allowable to take liberties with letter punctuation and placement in writing to your intimate friends? Explain in what respects. LESSON FOUR Interest in Letters You should remember from the first chapter of this book that good writing has its laws and its customs, the first controlling the way in which thought turns itself into words, the second having to do merely with the forms of punctua- tion, spelling, and capitalization, that general usage has determined for us. In the two preceding lessons you have been studying the accepted customs of letter writing. They are important, because if they are not observed it is just so much the more difficult to be interesting. Indeed, letter writing is the best of all exercises for acquiring the habit of good form in composition. But before you can write interesting letters you must have something interesting to say. If you are interested in writing a letter, you will probably have no difficulty in making your letter interesting to others. Have something you really wish to say. Say it. Be your- self. Avoid "filling up space." Do not write because you have to. There are a hundred things happening to you every day that your absent friends will be interested in hearing about. Put these things in a letter and send it off. Of course, every friendly letter must show some interest in the person to whom it is written — it must express a HOW TO BE INTERESTING 27 desire to know about him, what he is doing, how he is getting along, and so forth. And it must not dwell at length upon your cares and troubles, for these will not always interest the reader. But you may bring a reply in the very next mail (provided your correspondent does not live too far away) if you will tell him of some interesting happening — how you were the first to discover a fire, how the dog brought down a possum, how Bill got caught by the street sprinkler. Tell him about these matters in your own natural way, and you will probably make your letter most interesting. Letters are only written conversations. Don't search the dictionary for big words. Just use your every- day, conversational language and tell about the ordinary happenings of your daily round. PRACTICE 1. What incidents of particular interest are mentioned in the third letter in Lesson One ? 2. Do the letters in Lesson One show interest in the affairs of the one "written to ? 3. How much in these letters in Lesson One deals with the writer himself ? 4. Write a letter to a friend upon any one of the following subjects : — The morning I overslept. The runaways. The day I failed. Making the beds. Jim's fine run. Drying the dishes. 5. Write replies from Tomarcher to Robert Louis Stevenson and from Fanny to Thomas Hood. (See pages 11 and 14.) '6. Write a letter to your friend Bob in which you tell all about your friend Charles, whom Bob does not know. 7. Write a letter to Charles telling him all about Bob. 8. Invite both Bob and Charles to visit you on a certain after- noon when Mary and Alice are to be present. 28 GOOD ENGLISH 9. Write to your sister, who was away at the time of your party, telling her all about Bob and Charles and Mary and Ahce, and your pleasant afternoon. 10. Write your sister's reply to your letter in 9. She shows interest in your affairs and tells you something about her own. LESSON FIVE The Envelope There are other customs observed in letter writing as important as those explained above. The address on the envelope is called the outside address or the superscription. It should be the same as that written in the letter. The placement of the superscription depends somewhat upon the shape and the size of the envelope. Usually it should be placed somewhat lower than the middle, and slightly to the right. It must give the name, the stre?+ address, the city, and the state. These four items should stand alone, prominently, in the order above indicated. Other data, such as the county, the rural free-delivery direction, the number of room in a large office building, the "in care of" notice, are better placed in the lower left-hand corner. The address of the sender may be put in the upper left-hand corner. Punctuation (except after abbreviations) may be omitted from the superscription ; should be, if it has been omitted in the heading and the address of the letter. If punctuation is used, a comma is placed at the end of all lines except the last, which is followed by a period. Note that the margin of the superscription may be vertical or diagonal. The tendency at present seems to favor the vertical margin. Observe the following models : — HOW TO BE INTERESTING 29 Mr. Willard Quick, Washington, D.C. R. F. D. — Route 4. Fred Britton, Esq., Jonesboro, Tenn. % Mrs. Thos. A. Britton. H. S. Brown Wilmot Ohio Dr. Thomas Conard 260 EucUd Avenue Cleveland Ohio Room 875 30 GOOD ENGLISH It is needless to say that the envelope should be clearly and accurately addressed. Be sure that you have it right side up before you address it. Place the stamp squarely in the extreme upper right-hand corner. Do not write City or Town on local letters instead of the actual name of the city or town. The following forms of address should be noted : — Mr. John W. Blank or John W. Blank, Esq. Mr. is more commonly used than Esq. Never use both. In addressing more than one person, the following forms are good : — Messrs. Carlton and Donohue, or The Messrs. Carlton and Donohue, Misses Sears and Barton, or The Misses Sears and Barton, In addressing a married woman, her wishes regarding the form of address used should be respected. She should indicate underneath her signature to a letter the form she prefers, as, — Yours cordially, Mary R. Barton (Mrs. Seth T. Barton) or (Mrs. Seth T.) The form in parentheses is the one to be used in addressing her. In case she is a widow, or prefers to be addressed by her own name, she should indicate it as follows : — HOW TO BE INTERESTING 31 Yours cordially, (Mrs.) Mary R.Barton Dr. before a physician's name is preferable to M.D. after it. Never use both. Do not use Prof, for Professor. Never abbreviate a name in part, as Kansas C. or K. City, or N. Y. City. For the proper forms to be used in addressing ministers, officials, and business men see page 132. PRACTICE 1. Draw the plan of an envelope properly addressed and stamped. 2. Address an envelope to a friend of yours who lives in St. Paul. Invent names and details. 3. Address an envelope to a doctor in Chicago, in care of some hospital. 4. Address an envelope to a girl friend of yours and her sister. 5. Address an envelope to Mary K. Altman (Mrs. C. V.), 130 West End Ave., New York City, in care of R. M. Richardson. 6. Address an envelope to a friend of yours living on a rural free mail-delivery route in the country. 7. Criticize and correct the following addresses : — Mr. C. V. Alger, Esq. No. 2 Curtis Ave, Brooklyn. , N. Y. City. Dr. Thomas Keller M. D. No. 12 E. Lancaster St Albany, New York 8. Address envelopes for the letters you wrote under Lesson Four, page 27. 32 GOOD ENGLISH 9. Explain the purpose of the note in the upper left-hand corner of the envelope. 10. Explain what use should be made of the lower left-hand comer of the envelope. LESSON SIX Stories in Prose Told in the Third Person Read one of the following stories and be able to tell it in your own words to your classmates. Note especially that while these stories are told for the most part in the third person, yet the first and second persons both figure in certain parts for the effective handling of the narrative. Observe the following points in retelling the first story : — 1. Lena's letter. 2. Lena's dream. 3. Hondo Bill's reproof. The Chaparral* Prince 2 (By 0. Hmry) Nine o'clock at last, and the drudging toil of the day was ended. Lena climbed to her room in the third half-story of the Quarrymen's Hotel. Since daylight she had slaved, doing the work of a full- grown woman, scrubbing the floors, washing the heavy ironstone plates and cups, making the beds, and supplying the insatiate demands for wood and water in that turbulent and depressing hostelry. The din of the day's quarrying was over — the blasting and drilUng, the creaking of the great cranes, the shouts of the foremen, the backing and shifting of the flat-cars hauUng the heavy blocks of limestone. Down in the hotel office three or four of the laborers were growling and swearing over a belated game of checkers. 1 A hardy shrub covering large tracts of land in Texas. » Copyright, 1907, by Doubleday, Page and Company. Used by permia- eion of the publishers. HOW TO BE INTERESTING 33 Heavy odors of stewed meat, hot grease, and cheap coffee hung Uke a depressing fog about the house. Lena ht the stump of a candle and sat lunply upon her wooden chair. She was eleven years old, thin and ill-nourished. Her back and limbs were sore and aching. But the ache in her heart made the biggest trouble. The last straw had been added to the burden upon her small shoulders. They had taken away Grimm. ^ Always at night, however tired she might be, she had turned to Grimm for comfort and hope. Each time had Grimm whispered to her that the prince or the fairy would come and deUver her out of the wicked enchantment. Every night she had taken fresh courage and strength from Grimm. To whatever tale she read she found an analogy in her own conditions. The woodcutter's lost child, the unhappy goose girl, the persecuted stepdaughter, the little maiden imprisoned in the witch's hut — all these were but transparent disguises for Lena, the overworked kitchenmaid in the Quarrymen's Hotel. And always when the extremity was direst came the good fairy or the gallant prince to the rescue. So, here in the ogre's castle, enslaved by a wicked spell, Lena had leaned upon Grimm and waited, longing for the powers of goodness to prevail. But on the day before Mrs. Maloney had found the book in her room and had carried it away, declaring sharply it would not do for servants to read at night; they lost sleep and did not work briskly the next day. Can one only eleven years old, Uving away from one's mamma, and never having any time to play, Uve entirely deprived of Grimm? Just try it once, and you will see what a difficult thing it is. Lena's home was in Texas, away up among the Uttle mountains on the Pedernales River, in a little town called Fredericksburg, They are all German people who Uve in Fredericksburg. Of evenings they sit at httle tables along the sidewalk and drink beer and play pinochle ^ and scat.^ They are very thrifty people. Thriftiest among them was Peter Hildesmuller, Lena's father. And that is why Lena was sent to work in the hotel at the quarries, 1 The Grimm Brothers' Fairy Tales. 2 Card games. D 34 GOOD ENGLISH thirty miles away. She earned three dollars every week there, and Peter added her wages to his well-guarded store. Peter had an ambition to become as rich as his neighbor, Hugo Heffelbauer, who smoked a meerschaum pipe three feet long and had wiener schnitzel ^ and hasenpfeffer ^ for dinner every day in the week. And now Lena was quite old enough to work and assist in the accumu- lation of riches. But conjecture, if you can, what it means to be sentenced at eleven years of age from a home in the pleasant httle Rhine village to hard labor in the ogre's castle, where you must fly to serve the ogres, while they devour cattle and sheep, growhng fiercely as they stamp white limestone dust from their great shoes for you to sweep and scour with your weak, aching fingers. And then — to have Grimm taken away from you ! Lena raised the lid of an old empty case that had once contained canned corn and got out a sheet of paper and a piece of pencil. She was going to write a letter to her mamma. Tommy Ryan was going to post it for her at Balhnger's. Tommy was seventeen, worked in the quarries, went home to Balhnger's every night, and was now waiting in the shadows under Lena's window for her to throw the letter out to him. This was the only way she could send a letter to Fredericksburg. Mrs. Maloney did not Uke for her to write letters. The stump of candle was burning low, so Lena hastily bit the wood from around the lead of her pencil and began. This is the letter she wrote : "Dearest Mamma, — I want so much to see you. And Gretel and Glaus and Heinrich and httle Adolf. I am so tired. I want to see you. Today I was slapped by Mrs. Maloney and had no supper. I could not bring in enough wood, for my hand hurt. She took my book yesterday. I mean 'Grimms's Fairy Tales,' which Uncle Leo gave me. It did not hurt any one for me to read the book. I try to work as well as I can, but there is so much to do. I read only a httle bit every night. Dear mamma, I shall tell you what I * Vienna veal chops. * Rabbit meat (or a substitute for it) prepared as a stew. HOW TO BE INTERESTING 35 am going to do. Unless you send for me tomorrow to bring me home I shall go to a deep place I know in the river and drown. It is wicked to drown, I suppose, but I wanted to see you, and there is no one else. I am very tired, and Tommy is waiting for the letter. You will excuse me, mamma, if I do it. "Your respectful and loving daughter, "Lena." Tommy was still waiting faithfully when the letter was concluded, and when Lena dropped it out she saw him pick it up and start up the steep hillside. Without undressing, she blew out the candle and curled herself upon the mattress on the floor. At 10 : 30 o'clock old man BaUinger came out of his house in his stocking feet and leaned over the gate, smoking his pipe. He looked down the big road, white in the moonshine, and rubbed one ankle with the toe of his other foot. It was time for the Fredericks- burg mail to come pattering up the road. Old man Balhnger had waited only a few minutes when he heard the lively hoof beats of Fritz's team of little black mules, and very soon afterward his covered spring wagon stood in front of the gate. Fritz's big spectacles flashed in the moonhght and his tremendous voice shouted a greeting to the postmaster of BalUnger's. The mail carrier jumped out and took the bridles from the mules, for he always fed them oats at Ballinger's. While the mules were eating from their feed bags, old man Bal- linger brought out the mail sack and threw it into the wagon. "Tell me," said Fritz, when he was ready to start, "contains the sack a letter to Frau H"ldesmuller from the little Lena at the quarries ? One came in the last mail to say that she is a little sick, already. Her mamma is very anxious to hear again." "Yes," said old man Balhnger, "thar's a letter for Mrs. Helter- skelter, or some sich name. Tommy Ryan brung it over when he come. Her little gal workin' over thar, you say?" "In the hotel," shouted Fritz, as he gathered up the lines; "eleven years old and not bigger as a frankfurter. The close-fist of a Peter Hildesmuller ! — some day shall I with a big club pound 36 GOOD ENGLISH that man's dummkopf ^ — all in and out the town. Perhaps in this letter Lena will say that she is yet feeling better. So, her mamma will be glad. Auf wiedersehen,^ Herr Ballinger — your feets will take cold out in the night air." ''So long, Fritzy," said old man Ballinger. "You got a nice cool night for your drive." Up the road went the little black mules at their steady trot, while Fritz thundered at them occasional words of endearment and cheer. These fancies occupied the mind of the mail carrier until he reached the big post oak forest, eight miles from Ballinger 's. Here his ruminations were scattered by the sudden flash and report of pistols and a whooping as if from a whole tribe of Indians. A band of galloping centaurs closed in around the mail wagon. One of them leaned over the front wheel, covered the driver with his revolver, and ordered him to stop. Others caught at the bridles of Bonder and Blitzen. "Donnerwetter!" 3 shouted Fritz, with all his tremendous voice — "was ist? Release your hands from dose mules. Ve vas der United States mail ! " "Hurry up, Dutch!" drawled a melancholy voice. "Don't you know when you're in a stick-up? Reverse your mules and climb out of the cart." It is due to the breadth of Hondo Bill's demerit and the largeness of his achievements to state that the holding up of the Fredericks- burg mail was not perpetrated by way of an exploit. As the lion while in the pursuit of prey commensurate to his prowess might set a frivolous foot upon a casual rabbit in his path, so Hondo Bill and his gang had swooped sportively upon the pacific transport of Meinherr Fritz. The real work of their sinister night ride was over. Fritz and his mail bag and his mules came as a gentle relaxation, grateful after the arduous duties of their profession. Twenty miles to the southeast stood a train with a killed engine, hysterical passengers, * German for blockhead. * German for Good-by. Literally, "I'll see you again." * Thunderation ! HOW TO BE INTERESTING 37 and a looted express and mail car. That represented the serious occupation of Hondo Bill and his gang. With a fairly rich prize of currency and silver the robbers were making a wide detour to the west through the less populous country, intending to seek safety in Mexico by means of some fordable spot on the Rio Grande. The booty from the train had melted the desperate bushrangers to jovial and happy skylarkers. Trembling with outraged dignity and no little personal appre- hension, Fritz climbed out to the road after replacing his suddenly removed spectacles. The band had dismounted and were singing, capering, and whooping, thus expressing their satisfied delight in the life of a jolly outlaw. Rattlesnake Rogers, who stood at the heads of the mules, jerked a little too vigorously at the rein of the tender-mouthed Bonder, who reared and emitted a loud, protesting snort of pain. Instantly Fritz, with a scream of anger, flew at the bulky Rogers and began to assiduously pommel that surprised free- booter with his fists. ''Villain!" shouted Fritz, "dog, bigstiff! Dot mule he has a soreness by his mouth. I vill knock off your shoulders mit your head — robbermans ! " "Yi-yi!" howled Rattlesnake, roaring with laughter and ducking his head, "somebody git this here sauerkrout off'n me !" One of the band yanked Fritz back by the coat tail, and the woods rang with Rattlesnake's vociferous comments. "The . . . little wienerwurst," ^ he yelled, amiably. "He's not so much of a skunk, for a Dutchman. Took up for his animile plumb quick, didn't he ? I like to see a man like his hoss, even if it is a mule. The dad-blamed little Limburger, he went for me, didn't he ! Whoa, now, muley — I ain't a-goin' to hurt your mouth agin any more." Perhaps the mail would not have been tampered with had not Ben Moody, the lieutenant, possessed certain wisdom that seemed to promise more spoils. "Say, Cap," he said, addressing Hondo Bill, "there's liable to be good pickings in these mail sacks. I've done some hoss tradin' with these Dutchmen around Fredericksburg, and I know the style ^ Literally Vienna Sausage. Slang for " worthless." 38 GOOD ENGLISH of the varmints. There's big money goes through the mails to that town. Them Dutch risk a thousand dollars sent wrapped in a piece of paper before they'd pay the banks to handle the money." Hondo Bill, six feet two, gentle of voice and impulsive in action, was dragging the sacks from the rear of the wagon before Moody had finished his speech. A knife shone in his hand, and they heard the ripping sound as it bit through the tough canvas. The outlaws crowded around and began tearing open letters and packages, enlivening their labors by swearing affably at the writers, who seemed to have conspired to confute the prediction of Ben Moody. Not a dollar was found in the Fredericksburg mail. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said Hondo Bill to the mail carrier in solemn tones, 'Ho be packing around such a lot of old, trashy paper as this. What d'you mean by it, anyhow? Where do you Butchers keep your money at?" The Ballinger mail sack opened like a cocoon under Hondo's knife. It contained but a handful of mail. Fritz had been fuming with terror and excitement until this sack was reached. He now remembered Lena's letter. He addressed the leader of the band, asking that that particular missive be spared. "Much obliged, Dutch," he said to the disturbed carrier. "I guess that's the letter we want. Got spondulicks in it, ain't it? Here she is. Make a light, boys." Hondo found and tore open the letter to Mrs. Hildesmuller. The others stood about, lighting twisted-up letters one from another. Hondo gazed with mute disapproval at the single sheet of paper covered with the angular German script. "Whatever is this you've humbugged us with, Dutchy ? You call this here a valuable letter ? That's a mighty low-down trick to play on your friends what come along to help you distribute your mail." "That's Chiny writin '," said Sandy Grundy, peering over Hondo's shoulder. "You're off your kazip," declared another of the gang, an effec- tive youth, covered with silk handkerchiefs and nickel plating. "That's shorthand. I seen 'em do it once in court." "Ach, no, no, no — dot is German," said Fritz. "It is no more HOW TO BE INTERESTING 39 as a little girl writing a letter to her mamma. One poor little girl, sick and vorking hard avay from home. Ach! it is a shame. Good Mr. Robberman, you vill please let me have dot letter?" "What the devil do you take us for, old Pretzels?" said Hondo with sudden and surprising severity. ''You ain't presumin' to insinuate that we gents ain't possessed of sufficient politeness for to take an interest in the miss's health, are you? Now, you go on, and you read that scratchin' out loud and in plain United States language to this here company of educated society." Hondo twirled his six-shooter by its trigger guard and stood towering above the little German, who at once began to read the letter, translating the simple words into English. The gang of rovers stood in absolute silence, listening intently. "How old is that kid?" asked Hondo when the letter was done. "Eleven," said Fritz. "And where is she at?" "At dose rock quarries — working. Ach, mein Gott — little Lena, she speak of drowning. I do not know if she vill do it, but if she shall I schwear I vill dot Peter Hildesmuller shoot mit a gun." "You Dutchers," said Hondo Bill, his voice swelling with fine contempt, "make me plenty tired. Hirin' out your kids to work when they ought to be playin' dolls in the sand. ... I reckon we'll fix your clock for a while just to show what we think of your old cheesy nation. Here, boys ! " Hondo Bill parleyed aside oriefly with his band, and then they seized Fritz and conveyed him off the road to one side. Here they bound him fast to a tree with a couple of lariats. His team they tied to another tree near by. "We ain't going to hurt you bad," said Hondo reassuringly. "'Twon't hurt you to be tied up for a while. We will now pass you the time of day, as it is up to us to depart. Ausgespielt — nixcumrous,! Dutchy. Don't get any more impatience." * Like so many other expressions of the robbers, these are fragments of real German, nonsensical and humorous imitations of Fritz's speech ; part Ger- man, part nonsense, equivalent to our slang phrases "All over! Nothing doing ! " 40 GOOD ENGLISH Fritz heard a great squeaking of saddles as the men mounted their horses. Then a loud yell and a great clatter of hoofs as they galloped pell-mell back along the Fredericksburg road. For more than two hours Fritz sat against his tree, tightly but not painfully bound. Then from the reaction after his exciting adventure he sank into slumber. How long he slept he knew not, but he was at last awakened by a rough shake. Hands were untying his ropes. He was lifted to his feet, dazed, confused in mind, and weary of body. Rubbmg his eyes, he looked and saw that he was again in the midst of the same band of terrible bandits. They shoved him up to the seat of his wagon and placed the lines in his hands. "Hit it out for home, Dutch," said Hondo Bill's voice com- mandingly. "You've given us lots of trouble and we're pleased to see the back of your neck. Spiel ! Zwei bier ! Vamoose ! " ^ Hondo reached out and gave Blitzen a smart cut with his quirt. The little mules sprang ahead, glad to be moving again. Fritz urged them along, dizzy and muddled over his fearful adventure. According to schedule time, he should have reached Fredericks- burg at daylight. As it was, he drove down the long street of the town at eleven o'clock a.m. He had to pass Peter Hildesmuller's house on his way to the post-office. He stopped his team at the gate and called. But Frau Hildesmuller was watching for him. Out rushed the whole family of Hildesmullers. Frau Hildesmuller, fat and flushed, inquired if he had a letter from Lena, and then Fritz raised his voice and told the tale of his adventure. He told the contents of the letter that the robber had made him read, and then Frau Hildesmuller broke into wild weeping. Her little Lena drown herself ! Why had they sent her from home? What could be done? Perhaps it would be too late by the time they could send for her now. Peter Hildesmuller dropped his meerschaum on the walk and it shivered into pieces. "Woman!" he roared at his wife, "why did you let that child go away? It is your fault if she comes home to us no more." 1" Vamoose" means "get out." "Spiel" and "Zwei bier" are good German words but nonsensical here. Hondo Bill is making fun of Frita. HOW TO BE INTERESTING 41 Every one knew that it was Peter Hildesmuller's fault, so they paid no attention to his words. A moment afterward a strange, faint voice was heard to call: *'Mamma!" Frau HildesmuUer at first thought it was Lena's spirit calling, and then she rushed to the rear of Fritz's covered wagon, and, with a loud shriek of joy, caught up Lena herself, cov- ering her pale little face with kisses and smothering her with hugs. Lena's eyes were heavy with the deep slumber of exhaustion, but she smiled and lay close to the one she had longed to see. There among the mail sacks, covered in a nest of strange blankets and comforters, she had lain asleep until awakened by the voices around her. Fritz stared at her with eyes that bulged behind his spectacles. "Gott in Himmel!" he shouted. "How did you get in that wagon ? Am I going crazy as well as to be murdered and hanged by robbers this day?" "You brought her to us, Fritz," cried Herr HildesmuUer. "How can we ever thank you enough?" "Tell mamma how you came in Fritz's wagon," said Frau HildesmuUer. "I don't know," saidXena. "But I know how I got away from the hotel. The Prince brought me." "By the Emperor's crown!" shouted Fritz, "we are all going crazy." "I always knew he would come," said Lena, sitting down on her bundle of bedclothes on the sidewalk. "Last night he came with his armed knights and captured the ogre's castle. They broke the dishes and kicked down the doors. They pitched Mr. Maloney into a barrel of rain water and threw flour all over Mrs. Maloney. The workmen in the hotel jumped out of the windows and ran into the woods when the knights began firing their guns. They wakened me up and I peeped down the stair. And then the Prince came up and wrapped me in the bedclothes and carried me out. He was so tall and strong and fine. His face was as rough as a scrubbing- brush, and he talked soft and kind and smelled of schnapps .^ He 1 Holland gin. HE HELD ME CLOSE AND I WENT TO SLEEP THAT WAY. HOW TO BE INTERESTING 43 took me on his horse before him and we rode away among the knights. He held me close and I went to sleep that way, and didn't wake up till I got home." "Rubbish!" cried Fritz Bergmann. "Fairy tales! How did you come from the quarries to my wagon?" "The Prince brought me," said Lena, confidently. And to this day the good people of Fredericksburg haven't been able to make her give any other explanation. Buddy and Waffles^ (By John A. Moroso) They were two of a kind — Buddy and his dog, Waffles. "That child," declared Mrs. H. Orrison Finch, president of the Ladies' Village Improvement Society, when the disreputability of Buddy was brought up for consideration, "is a disgrace and a hurt to the community ! The first thing a visitor to the town sees is a bundle of old clothes piled in the sun on a bench in front of the station. The bundle stirs on the arrival of a train, gets up, and the visitor is confronted with that shocking spectacle which has the name of a human being ! " "Where did the boy come from, Madam President?" asked Mrs. Mary Amelia Sitt, chairman of the Committee on the Beau- tification of Railroad Parks and Stations. "He looks as if he had escaped from a ragpicker's bag," replied Mrs. Finch. "But I believe that he was born in the county poor- house, and that an old widow, now dead, adopted him and left him, after her demise, to grow up like a rank and noxious weed." "Who feeds him?" asked another member. "He feeds himself somehow and also feeds his cur dog, who is as much a disgrace to the town as his master," the president informed ^ Reprinted by special permission of the author. 44 GOOD ENGLISH the society. "We should and must get rid of the two of them. It is high time." The hour for the bridge game was at hand, and on that afternoon it was to be played in the very comfortable and even richly appointed home of the president. "I move, Madam President," said Mrs. Nales, "that the Com- mittee on Beautification of Railroad Parks and Stations be in- structed to take such action as is necessary to have this nuisance abated. If the dog has no license he may be easily disposed of. The boy might be placed in some institution." "Second the motion!" came from all over the meeting room, and, as it was carried unanimously, a motion to adjourn followed, and the ladies trooped off to their fun. Now, they had to cross the railroad tracks to reach the home of their hostess, and there sat Buddy on his favorite bench in the sun, making fast a cord to a slender branch of a tree laid across his knees, with a tin can filled with worms beside him, and, looking up into his face, his dog and only friend : a gaunt, shaggy cur, dingy brown in color. Buddy was about twelve years old, and his eyes shone from a dirty face like two blue patches of summer sky through shower-promising clouds. One of his shoes was intended for a male person and the other, from which he had removed the high heel, had been made for a female. His coat had been cut for a man, and the bifurcation of his trousers was lost in an amplitude of cloth. He stopped fixing his fishing tackle to caress the dog — at the dog's own earnest and caudal beseeching — and the ladies passed with sniffs of contempt and disgust, and with glances which said plainly : "We'll take up your case after the bridge ! " Thinking that his friend was hungry Buddy fished in a cavernous pocket, pulled out half a loaf of bread and wrenched off a goodly piece. He emptied his bait from the can and filled it with water from a near-by rain barrel, placing it beside his pet and putting the wriggling, protesting worms in his coat pocket, stufl&ng a piece of newspaper on top of them to hold them captive. Waffles did not beg often, for he was a good self-provider. By upsetting a boy and stealing the contents of a tray which he was HOW TO BE INTERESTING 45 carrying to a neighbor's home one morning Buddy's dog secured a breakfast that day of a dozen well-browned and buttered waffles, which not only gave him internal satisfaction, but also caused his christening by other boys who saw him make the raid. The dog finishing his repast and quenching his thirst. Buddy filled his own mouth with bread, rinsed out the bait can, wet his own throat, and departed whistling, with his rod, line, worms, and four-footed friend, in the direction of the brook. The heart of the lad was light within him. The winter had passed ; the robins had come up from the South to steal all the worms they could from small boys who would a-fishing go; and the grackles were flying overhead in countless air squadrons, making a noise like crackling twigs in a brisk forest fire. Over the untilled fields the dandelions spread their golden carpets; the trees had well ad- vanced in leafing, the fish were nibbling, and Buddy would no longer be compelled to beg a shelter in bams or in the rear of village shops at the coming of night. II It was probably the spirit of pride and responsibility in owner- ship which early determined Buddy thoroughly to educate his dumb friend. He knew nothing about praying, but he did Imow of the posture for praying, so he taught Waffles to kneel down with his head between his forepaws and not stir until he heard the magic word ''Amen." This concession having been made to the demands of a Christian nation Waffles was taught to say "Good morning" and ''Good night," and his deportment was established. Next, Buddy taught him to ask for food and water when there were any with which to accede to his request. Waffles in time also acquired the art of playing sick, writhing in great pain on the ground and then lying stark and stiff in death until the magic words "Git up ! " brought him back to the living. Buddy further taught his friend to be useful, having him carry his ragged cap or tattered shoes on hot days, or the fishing pole or the bait can. It was not necessary to teach him to love his master: that was born in his puppy soul when Buddy crawled 46 GOOD ENGLISH under the freight station platform one winter's morning and saved him from death by cold and starvation. So the sweetest season of the year began with a well-educated dog and a thoroughly happy and uneducated boy, neither asking anything of life save plenty of sunshine and a bite to eat. Nature offered them both, and a little later in the year Man would offer the lad the highest and greatest blessing that can come to a boy — the circus ! Buddy was already coping with the problem of acquiring enough money to pay his way through the gates of boyhood's heaven. He lived from circus to circus ; and as each springtime came he planned to gaze long and lovingly upon every freak in every side show, every animal in the menagerie; planned for a top seat in the big tent, where he could rub his back against the beloved canvas and watch all three rings at once; and laid out appropriations for peanuts, lemonade,,and the concert that always followed the regular show. Buddy earned his circus money by fishing. A little piece of red flannel rag on his line served him for trout, if trout were running, and if they were not running, the wriggling worm on his hook and a light sinker brought up perch. He sold his catches to elaborately equipped fishermen who failed to fill their baskets. This money he hoarded, burying it and marking the treasure-trove against the time when the glittering caravans would pass from the dreams of childhood to the reality of the Fair Grounds in the nearest big town. "How much ye got now. Buddy?" asked Tom McCue, the village constable, when circus rumors began to spread. "Ninety-eight," the boy replied. "Better'n last year, am't it?" inquired the police arm of the village law. "Ten cents better." "Glad to hear it, Buddy; glad to hear it!" McCue, bearing a badge that was as a shield to his whole big heart, was the one person not among the absolutely poverty stricken who would converse openly with the boy. He was old ; his hands shook with incipient palsy; his white whiskers twinkled as he constantly nibbled at a bit of plug tobacco ; in fact he was just the sort of man HOW TO BE INTERESTING 47 to give all his time to the preservation of law in a village so small and peaceful that no harm was ever done within its confines beyond tearing a reputation to tatters or shooting down a defenseless and harmless dog. ''You going to the circus, too, Chief?" Buddy asked. ''Sure; if everything is quiet and I can git off," replied the constable. They drew back against the side of the station to escape the suction of a passing express. "Be you teaching Waffles any new tricks, Buddy?" "I guess he knows everything now. Chief," the boy replied, rubbing his dog's ears. "He can walk on his hands, stand on his head, and turn the back flipflap." "Is that so? He can, eh?" cried McCue. "You know you'd make a barrel of money with him if you joined the circus. Buddy. I have saw many a trick dog that couldn't tech him; no, sirree, not for a minute. And think of traveling all over the country, with a parade every day, the steam planner just hittin' it up all the time, and feeding the animules every day!" "Lawsy!" exclaimed Buddy, his eyes like two blue saucers. "I'd try it when ye got a little bigger. Buddy. Dinged if I wouldn't, ef I was you." "Why don't you make that boy and dog keep away from the station?" sounded a strident voice behind them; and constable and boy turned to face Mrs.i Sitt and Mrs. Nales, members of the station committee. "What they doin', ma'am?" quavered old Tom. "You'll find out what they're doing," retorted Mrs. Sitt; "and you'll find it out after the next meeting of the improvement society ! " Buddy dodged around the comer of the station, with Waffles at his heels, both feeling that they had unwittingly committed some crime, or that, perhaps, something had happened in the village for which they were blamed. Something was certainly wrong some- where. Buddy was not old enough and not sapient enough to know that the only crime he and his dog were guilty of was the crime of being alive, or of being accessories after the fact to having been born. 48 GOOD ENGLISH m At last the morning of the circus came, and Buddy had two dollars, every cent of which he was prepared to squander. The circus town was ten miles away across country and nearer a more profitable railroad line. To reach it on the cars he would have had to spend one of his two precious dollars in a long and round- about journey. With better shoes he could have made the ten miles easily in a little over three hours, for he was stout of legs and of fine wind. He prepared for the hike across country by having the village cobbler tack a heel on his "female" shoe. The day was glorious and he felt very thankful over the prospects, and was especially kind to Waffles when he chained him to a post under the freight-station platform, where he would have plenty of shade. He fed his faithful friend with ten cents' worth of beef bones, placed a big can of water beside him, and kissed him good-by. "Chief" McCue was at the station on duty as usual, and he promised Buddy that if the freight house caught fire he would un- chain the dog even before he turned in an alarm. "You leave him to me. Buddy," said the old constable. "When things is dull, about two o'clock, I'll give him fresh water and take him for a little walk just to cheer him up. You go ahead and have a good time. Fm going to the show tonight — if nothing happens." With a word of gratitude Buddy peeled off his heavy coat, threw it nonchalantly over his arm and was off down the road. It was eight o'clock and he counted on covering the ten miles by noon. He wanted at least an hour for the calm inspection of the circus encampment and a personal view of each freak in the side shows. Then he would need an hour for the menagerie and a careful study of the "Bengal Man-eater" and "Majestic, the Untamable African Lion, Who Has Devoured Four Keepers." He quickened his stride as he busied his mind with these details. Only three times did Buddy stop to rest, and, as he had been unable to sleep the night before because of excitement, he rested either standing up or seated on a fallen log for fear that he might doze off. At the last resting place he found that the newly nailed HOW TO BE INTERESTING 49 heel on his shoe had been lost. With two rocks he hammered the tacks flat and was off in the stretch. The sun was directly over- head when he saw the waving banners above the tented city and then the softly gleaming white tops of the tents themselves. When he reached the circus grounds, he found a pump and stuck his mouth under it, working the handle himself as only a thirsty boy can. Then he bought a big sandwich, and with this to nibble on luxuriously he made the preliminary inspection of the tents, examining every guy rope, flap, and peg, studying the layout of the kitchen and mess tents, and learning the locations of dressing rooms for the men and women. Presently he personally met a Clown! At first it seemed that he was dreaming, but there stood the Clown, his white face and egglike head unmistakably real. He was speaking to him — speak- ing to Buddy Noname ! ''Hi, kid ! " Buddy heard him say. "I'd like to buy them clothes from you. They'd do for a make-up, believe me." He stood at the entrance of the dressing tent for men, grinning hideously in his paint and powder. ''I ain't much on clothes, Mister Clown," Buddy finally managed to say; ''but I'll betcher I got a dog can lay over any dog you got in this show." "You* have, eh? And wot might be his name?" "Waffles." "Waffles!" cried the Clown. "It's a fine name. Wot's yours?" "Buddy." The Clown roared. "Say," he said, "if you ain't got no family ties and want to join the circus, come to see me. Ask for Smithy — Boob Smithy — and I'll take you along. I need a boy clown and a trick dog." Then he disappeared behind the canvas flap. For the rest of the afternoon Buddy remained in a dream. Al- most mechanically he carried out his program of seeing all the freaks and getting his top seat for the big show; but all the time the thought of fetching Waffles to that dressing tent and showing Boob Smithy what that wonderful dog could do filled his mind. 60 GOOD ENGLISH He cut out the concert and started comparatively early on the long hike back to base. It was pitch black by the time he had covered the fifth homeward mile, and he found that, the shoe with the lost heel having given up trying to keep up with him, his foot was torn and bleeding. Sitting down in the road he tore off half his shirt and bandaged the wounded member, starting off with a limp to do the next five miles. It was well after daybreak when he crawled into the village. He dragged himself across the railroad tracks and groped beneath the freight platform for Waffles. He was gone ! rv Nobody bothered about Buddy as he lay on the ground, half under the freight station, any more than anybody had bothered about him previously. He lay half-hidden and half-senseless, certain of only one friend — Waffles ; and he was gone ! Used to neglect. Buddy soon fell off into a sleep of exhaustion against the breast of the only mother he had ever known. He was awakened by a familiar voice, and, lifting himself on an elbow, was rejoiced to see Waffles tugging at the end of a chain held by McCue. "Hi, Chief!" he called, scrambling to his feet and limping across the tracks. "Here I am! Did ye think I was lost?" Waffles in a paroxysm of joy howled at the top of his voice. "I was late getting back," continued Buddy as he reached for the leash of his friend. "Me feet give out on the way." McCue did not surrender the chain to the boy. His face was a shade whiter than usual. "Lemme take him now. Chief," the boy urged. "It's been mighty kind of you to look out for the old feller for me." "Ye can't take him. Buddy," the constable replied in a low voice. "Ten o'clock yestiddy the Mayor serves me with an order to kill him within twenty-four hours because he ain't got no license and a lot of ladies signed a complaint against him. I wanted to—" "Kill me dawg!" cried Buddy. "Kill Waffles? Wot's he HOW TO BE INTERESTING 51 done? Did he bite anybody, Chief?" He fell on his knees and put his arms about his friend's neck. "He ain't done nuthin'/' replied McCue. "They ain't done said a thing agin him 'ceptin' he was a nuisance." A sob broke from Buddy's lips. "Ye can't kill him; ye can't kill him!" the boy moaned, pressing the cur to his breast. "Kill me, Chief, won't ye, please? Kill me 'stead of him. Please, Chief, don't you shoot me dawg." It was a job to be done with in a hurry, and McCue was sorry that his ragged friend had come back. In a few minutes the station would be crowded with people — respectable people — and swift commission of this duly ordained murder could not be enacted there. The old constable dragged the dog from the arms of his little master and started down the hard-beaten track beside the rails. Waffles struggled in vain, calling on Buddy to come along too. The boy rubbed the mud made by his tears clear of his eyes and started after the constable and his dog. His bandaged left foot dragged heavily, his sobs broke the quiet of the country air, his lips writhed in anguish, his poor rags fluttered about him, and his pitiful little soul within him was dying with crucifying pains. Because of the struggles of Waffles, Buddy managed to catch up with them. A quarter mile down the track McCue stopped and pulled out a big, old-fashioned silver watch. "In twenty-four hours. Buddy," he said solemnly. "They give me the order at ten o'clock yestiddy. It's nine-fifty now." Buddy dropped to the ground, his arms about the neck of his dog. " Don't km him, don't kill him, Chief ! " he begged. "He's only got ten minutes. Buddy." "I ain't never had another friend on earth," moaned Buddy. The dog whimpered and licked the chin and cheeks of his master. ".Time's up. Buddy; you'd better go away now." The con- stable dropped his watch into his pocket and heaved forth an old- fashioned horse pistol. As he did so Waffles yanked himself free, but only for a moment, for the big foot of McCue came down on the chain. DON T KILL HIM, DON T KILL HIM, CHIEF ] HOW TO BE INTERESTING 53 "You ain't going to shoot him chained up," begged Buddy. "He won't go away from me and I can't run with a lame foot. Loosen him, won't you?" "I don't mind doing that for ye, son," replied McCue. "There ain't nothing in the order about shooting him chained up. It says just to shoot and kill him." McCue unleashed the dog, and, with a word lifted on a sob, Buddy ordered his friend to stand at attention. Not a muscle, sinew or hair of the brute moved after the word was spoken. But in his brown eyes came a message of affection, fidelity, and undying faith to the eyes of his master. McCue was aiming his great pistol. "Sit up!" came the command from the swollen lips of the boy. Waffles rose to his haunches, his forepaws pointed downward pathetically. " Take aim !" cried Buddy. "Fire!" As he shouted the last word he fell against the side of old Tom, the horse pistol roaring to the clear heavens, spitting a tongue of fire and a cloud of smoke. Waffles dropped over on his side and lay stark and still in the path. "By gum!" cried McCue. "I done it with one shot. I'm glad of that, Buddy." He slipped his pistol into its holster under his coat and turned to the boy, taking his dirty, tear-stained face in his shaky hands. "Don't blame me, son," he said in a husky voice. "I had to obey orders. You take him and bury him. I know how you loved him." "I'll put him away in the woods over yonder," replied Buddy. McCue tm-ned and trudged up the path beside the rails toward the station, shaking his head sadly. Buddy lifted his stark friend to a shoulder and stole into the underbrush beside the tracks, burrowing deeper and deeper until his strength gave out. Now, fully screened from all eyes, he laid down his precious burden and uttered the one magic word : "Waf- fles!" The corpse stirred. "Sit up!" 54 GOOD ENGLISH The corpse sat up. Buddy pointed a finger at him and said slowly: "Take aim' Fire!'' Wafiles flopped over on his side. ''Git up!" The corpse got up again. "Come over and kiss your boss." Waffles needed no further invitation. Buddy then cleared a spot in the underbrush and with a grateful sigh threw himself on the bare ground. "Now we'll go to sleep," he said; and his dog coiled up close to the empty stomach of his master, warming it, "When we both git up we'll start after that circus," added Buddy drowsily. "We'll — show — them — sumpin' — eeyah ! — won't we ? " To THE Death 1 (From Jack London's The Call of the Wild, Chapter III) . . . Spitz, cold and calculating even in his supreme moods, left the pack and cut across a narrow neck of land where the creek made a long bend around. Buck did not know of this, and as he rounded the bend, the frost wraith of a rabbit still flitting before him, he saw another and larger frost wraith leap from the overhanging bank into the immediate path of the rabbit. It was Spitz. The rabbit could not turn, and as the white teeth broke its back in mid air it shrieked as loudly as a stricken man may shriek. . . . Buck did not cry out. He did not check himself, but drove in upon Spitz, shoulder to shoulder, so hard that he missed the throat. They rolled over and over in the powdery snow. Spitz gained his feet almost as though he had not been overthrown, slashing Buck down the shoulder and leaping clear. Twice his teeth clipped together, Hke the steel jaws of a trap, as he backed away for better footing, with lean and lifting lips that writhed and snarled. In a flash Buck knew it. The time had come. It was to the death. As they circled about, snarling, ears laid back, keenly ^ Used by permission of The Macmillan Company. HOW TO BE INTERESTING 55 watchful for the advantage, the scene came to Buck with a sense of familiarity. He seemed to remember it all, — the white woods, and earth, and moonhght, and the thrill of battle. Over the white- ness and silence brooded a ghostly calm. ... It was as though it had always been, the wonted way of things. Spitz was a practised fighter. ... He never rushed till he was prepared to receive a rush ; never attacked till he had first defended that attack. In vain Buck strove to sink his teeth in the neck of the big white dog. Wherever his fangs struck for the softer flesh, they were countered by the fangs of Spitz. Fang clashed fang, and lips were cut and bleeding, but Buck could not penetrate his enemy's guard. Then he warmed up and enveloped Spitz in a whirlwind of rushes. Time and time again he tried for the snow-white throat, where life bubbled near to the surface, and each time and every time Spitz slashed him and got away. Then Buck took to rushing, as though for the throat, when, suddenly drawing back his head and curving in from the side, he would drive his shoulder at the shoulder of Spitz, as a ram by which to overthrow him. But instead Buck's shoulder was slashed down each time as Spitz leaped Ughtly away. Spitz was untouched, while Buck was streaming with blood and panting hard. The fight was growing desperate. And all the while the silent and wolfish circle waited to finish off whichever dog went down. As Buck grew winded. Spitz took to rushing, and he kept him staggering for footing. Once Buck went over, and the whole circle of sixty dogs started up ; but he recovered himself, almost in mid air, and the circle sank down again and waited. But Buck possessed a quality that made for greatness — imagina- tion. He fought by instinct, but he could fight by head as well. He rushed, as though attempting the old shoulder trick, but at the last instant swept low to the snow and in. His teeth closed on Spitz's left fore leg. There was a crunch of breaking bone, and the white dog faced him on three legs. Thrice he tried to knock him over, then repeated the trick and broke the right fore leg. Despite the pain and helplessness. Spitz struggled madly to keep up. He saw the silent circle, with gleaming eyes, loUing tongues and silvery 56 GOOD ENGLISH breaths drifting upward, closing in upon him as he had seen similar circles close in upon beaten antagonists in the past. Only this time he was the one who was beaten. There was no hope for him. Buck was inexorable. Mercy was a thing reserved for gentler cUmes. He manoeuvred for the final rush. The circle had tightened till he could feel the breaths of the huskies on his flanks. He could see them, beyond Spitz and to either side, half crouching for the spring, their eyes fixed upon him. A pause seemed to fall. Every animal was motionless as though turned to stone. Only Spitz quivered and bristled as he staggered back and forth, snarhng with horrible menace, as though to frighten off impending death. Then Buck sprang in and out ; but while he was in, shoulder had at last squarely met shoulder. The dark circle became a dot on the moon-flooded snow as Spitz disappeared from view. Buck stood and looked on, the successful champion, the dominant primordial beast who had made his kill and found it good. The Parable of the Talents (From the New Testament) For it is as when a man, going into another country, called his own servants, and delivered unto them his goods. And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one ; to each accord- ing to his several ability ; and he went on his journey. Straight- way he that received the five talents went and traded with them, and made other five talents. In hke manner he also that received the two gained other two. But he that received the one went away and digged in the earth, and hid his lord's money. Now after a long time the lord of those servants cometh, and maketh a reckoning with them. And he that received the five talents came and brought other five talents, saying. Lord, thou deliveredst unto me five talents: lo, I have gained other five talents. His lord said unto him. Well done, good and faithful servant : thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will set thee over many things; enter thou into the joy of thy lord. And he HOW TO BE INTERESTING 57 also that received the two talents came and said, Lord, thou de- liveredst unto me two talents : lo, I have gained other two talents. His lord said unto him, Well done, good^and faithful servant : thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will set thee over many things ; enter thou into the joy of thy lord. And he also that had received the one talent came and said, Lord, I knew thee that thou art a hard man, reaping where thou didst not sow, and gathering where thou didst not scatter; and I was afraid, and went away and hid thy talent in the earth: lo, thou hast thine own. But his lord answered and said unto him, Thou wicked and slothful servant, thou knewest that I reap where I sowed not, and gather where I did not scatter; thou oughtest therefore to have put my money to the bankers, and at my coming I should have received back mine own with interest. Take ye away therefore the talent from him, and give it unto him that hath the ten talents. For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance : but from him that hath not, even that which he hath shall be taken away. LESSON SEVEN Stories in Prose Told in the First Person Read one of the following stories and be able to tell it in your own words to your classmates. Observe that these stories are told in the first person. Note especially, in re- telling the first of the group, these points : 1. Hugh and his mother. 2. Hugh and his father. 3. Hugh's honesty. 4. David Dove and Hugh's father. Hugh's School Days^ (From S. Weir MitcheWs Hugh Wynne: Free Quaker, Chapter II) The day I went to school for the first time is very clear in my memory. I can see myself, a stout little fellow about eight years 1 Used by permission of The Century Company. 58 GOOD ENGLISH old, clad in gray homespun, with breeches, low shoes, and a low, flat beaver hat. I can hear my^mother say, "Here are two big apples for thy master," it being the custom so to propitiate peda- gogues. Often afterward I took eggs m a little basket, or flowers, and others did the like. ''Now run ! run !" she cried, "and be a good boy ; run, or thou wilt be late." And she clapped her hands as I sped away, now and then looking back over my shoulder. I remember as well my return home to this solid house, this first day of my going to school. One is apt to associate events with persons, and my mother stood leaning on the half-door as I came running back. She was some Uttle reassured to see me smil- ing, for, to tell the truth, I had been mightily scared at my new venture. . . . As I came she set those large, childlike eyes on me, and opening the lower half-door, cried out : " I could scarce wait for thee ! I wish I could have gone with thee, Hugh ; and was it dreadful? Come, let us see thy little book. And did they praise thy reading? Didst thou tell them I taught thee? There are girls, I hear," and so on — a way she had of ask- ing many questions without waiting for a reply. As we chatted we passed through the hall, where tall mahogany chairs stood dark against the white-washed walls, such as were in all the rooms. Joyous at escape from school, and its confinement of three long, weary hours, from eight to eleven, I dropped my mother's hand, and, running a Uttle, shd down the long entry over the thinly sanded floor, and then slipping, came down with a rueful countenance, as nature, foreseeing results, meant that a boy should descend when his legs fail him. My mother sat down on a settle, and spread out both palms toward me, laughing, and crying out : "So near are joy and grief, my friends, in this world of sorrow." This was said so exactly with the voice and manner of a famous preacher of our Meeting that even I, a lad then of only eight years, recognized the imitation. Indeed, she was wonderful at this trick of mimicry, a thing most odious to Friends. As I smiled, hearing her, I was aware of my father in the open doorway of the sitting- NOW RUN 1 EUN I " SHE CRIED. 60 GOOD ENGLISH room, tall, strong, with much iron-gray hair. Within I saw several Friends, large rosy men in drab, with horn buttons and straight collars, their stout legs clad in dark silk hose, without the paste or silver buckles then in use. All wore broad-brimmed, low beavers, and their gold-headed canes rested between their knees. My father said to me, in his sharp way, "Take thy noise out into the orchard. The child disturbs us, wife. Thou shouldst know better. A committee of overseers is with me." He disUked the name Marie, and was never heard to use it, nor even its English equivalent. Upon this the dear lady murmured, "Let us fly, Hugh," and she ran on tiptoe along the hall with me, while my father closed the door. "Come," she added, "and see the floor. I am proud of it. We have friends to eat dinner with us at two." . . . And thus began my Ufe at school, to which I went twice a day, my father not approving of the plan of three sessions a day, which was common, nor, for some reason, I know not what, of schools kept by Friends. So it was that I set out before eight, and went again from two to four. . . . I have observed that teachers are often eccentric, and surely David Dove was no exception, nor do I now know why so odd a person was chosen by many for the care of youth. I fancy my mother had to do with the choice in my case, and was influenced by the fact that Dove rarely used the birch, but had a queer fancy for setting culprits on a stool, with the birch switch stuck in the back of the jacket, so as to stand up behind the head. I hated this, and would rather have been birched secundum artem ^ than to have seen the girls gigghng at me. I changed my opinion later. . . . Our school Ufe with Dove ended after four years in an odd fashion. I was then about twelve, and had become a vigorous, daring boy, with, as it now seems to me, something of the fortunate gayety of my mother. Other lads thought it singular that in peril I became strangely vivacious ; but underneath I had a share of the relentless firmness of my father, and of his vast disUke of failure, and of his love of truth. I have often thought that the father in me saved me * According to the usual method. HOW TO BE INTERESTING 61 from the consequences of so much of my mother's gentler nature as might have done me harm in the rude conflicts of life. David Dove, among other odd ways, devised a plan for punishing the unpunctual which had considerable success. One day, when I had far overstayed the hour of eight, by reason of having cUmbed into Friend Pemberton's gardens, where I was tempted by many green apples, I was met by four older boys. One had a lantern, which, with much laughter, he tied about my neck, and one, march- ing before, rang a bell. I had seen this queer punishment fall on others, and certainly the amusement shown by people in the streets would not have hurt me compared with the advantage of pockets full of apples, had I not of a sudden seen my father, who usually breakfasted at six, and was at his warehouse by seven. He looked at me composedly, but went past us saying nothing. On my return about eleven, he miluckily met me in the garden, for I had gone the back way in order to hide my apples. I had an unpleasant half-hour, despite my mother's tears, and was sent at once to confess to Friend James Pemberton. The good man said I was a naughty boy, but must come later when the apples were red ripe, and I should take all I wanted, and I might fetch with me another boy, or even two. I never forgot this, and did him some good turns in after-years, and right gladly too. In my own mind I associated David Dove with this painful inter- view with my father. I disliked him the more because, when the procession entered the school, a little girl for whom Warder and I had a boy friendship, in place of laughing, as did the rest, for some reason began to cry. This angered the master, who had the lack of self-control often seen in eccentric people. He asked why she cried, and on her sobbing out that it was because she was sorry for me, he bade her take off her stays. These being stiff, and worn outside the gown, would have made the punishment of the birch on the shoulders of trifling moment. As it was usual to whip girls at school, the little maid said nothing but did as she was bid, taking a sharp birching without a cry. Meanwhile I sat with my head in my hands, and my fingers in my ears lest I should hear her weeping. After school that evening, 62 GOOD ENGLISH when all but Warder and I had wandered home, I wrote on the out- side wall of the school-house with chalk, ''David Dove Is A Cruel Beast," and went away somewhat better contented. Now, with all his seeming dislike to use the rod, David had turns of severity, and then he was far more brutal than any man I have ever known. Therefore it did not surprise us next morning that the earlier scholars were looking with wonder and alarm at the sentence on the wall, when Dove, appearing behind us, ordered us to enter at once. Going to his desk, he put on his spectacles, which then were worn astride of the nose. In a minute he set on below them a second pair, and this we knew to be a signal of coming violence. Then he stood up, and asked who had written the opprobrious epithet on the wall. As no one repHed, he asked several in turn, but luckily chose the girls, thinking, perhaps, that they would weakly betray the sinner. Soon he lost patience, and cried out he would give a king's pound to know. When he had said this over and over, I began to reflect that, if he had any idea of doing as he promised, a pound was a great simi, and to consider what might be done with it in the way of marbles of Amsterdam, tops, and of certain much-desired books, for now this latter temptation was upon me, as it has been ever since. As I sat, and Dove thundered, I remembered how, when one Stacy, with an oath, assured my father that his word was as good as his bond, my parent said dryly that this equahty left him free to choose, and he would prefer his bond. I saw no way to what was for me the mysterious security of a bond, but I did conceive of some need to stiffen the promise Dove had made before I faced the penalty. Upon this I held up a hand, and the master cried, "What is it?" I said, "Master, if a boy should tell thee wouldst thou surely give a pound?" At this a lad called "Shame !" thinking I was a telltale. When Dove called silence and renewed his pledge, I, overbold, said, "Master, I did it, and now wilt thou please to give me a pound — a king's pound?" "I will give thee a pounding!" he roared; and upon this came HOW TO BE INTERESTING 63 down from his raised form, and gave me a beating so terrible and cruel that at last the girls cried aloud, and he let me drop on the floor, sore and angry. I lay still awhile, and then went to my seat. As I bent over my desk, it was rather the sense that I had been wronged, than the pain of the blows, which troubled me. After school, refusing speech to any, I walked home, and min- istered to my poor little bruised body as I best could. Now this being a Saturday, and therefore a half-holiday, I ate at two with my father and mother. Presently, my father detecting my uneasy movements, said, "Hast thou been birched today, and for what badness?" Upon this my mother said softly, "What is it, my son ? Have no fear." And this gentleness being too much for me, I fell to tears, and blurted out all my Uttle tragedy. As I ended, my father rose, very angry, and cried out, "Come this way ! " But my mother caught me, saying, "No ! no ! Look, John ! see his poor neck and his wrist ! What a brute ! I tell thee, thou shalt not ! it were a sin. Leave him to me," and she thrust me behind her as if for safety. To my surprise, he said, "As thou wilt," and my mother hurried me away. We had a grave, sweet talk, and there it ended for a time. I learned that, after all, the woman's was the stronger will. I was put to bed and declared to have a fever, and given sulphur and treacle, and kept out of the paternal^ paths for a mournful day of enforced rest. On the Monday following I went to school as usual, but not without fear of Dove. When we were all busy, about ten o'clock, I was amazed to hear my father's voice. He stood before the desk, and addressed Master Dove in a loud voice, meaning, I suppose, to be heard by all of us. "David Dove," he said, "my son has been guilty of disrespect to thee, and to thy office. I do not say he has hed, for it is my beUef that thou art truly an unjust and cruel beast. As for his sin, he has suffered enough [I felt glad of this final opinion] ; but a bar- gain was made. He, on his part, for a consideration of one pound sterling, was to tell thee who wrote certain words. He has paid thee 64 GOOD ENGLISH and thou hast taken interest out of his skin. Indeed, Friend Shy- lock, I think he weighs less by a pound. Thou wilt give him his pound, Master David." Upon this a Httle maid near by smiled at me, and Warder punched me in the ribs. Master Dove was silent a moment, and then answered that there was no law to make him pay, and that he had spoken hghtly, as one might say, "I would give this or that to know." But my father replied at once : "The boy trusted thee, and was as good as his word. I advise thee to pay. As thou art Master to punish boys, so will I, David, use thy birch on thee at need, and trust to the great Master to reckon with me if I am wrong." All this he said so fiercely that I trembled with joy, and hoped that Dove would deny him ; but, in place of this, he muttered some- thing about Meeting and Friends, and meanwhile searched his pockets and brought out a guinea. This my father dropped into his breeches pocket, saying, "The shilling will be for interest" (a guinea being a shilling over a king's pound). After this, turning to me, he said, "Come with me, Hugh," and went out of the school- house, I following after, very well pleased, and thinking of my guinea. The Day of Judgment (From Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward's Trotty's Wedding Tour) I am fourteen years old and Jill is twelve and a quarter. Jill is my brother. That isn't his name, you know ; his name is Timothy and mine is George Zacharias; but they've always called us Jack and Jill. . . . Well, Jill and I had an invitation to Aunt John's this summer, and that was how we happened to be there. . . . I'd rather go to Aunt John's than anywhere else in this world. When I was a little fellow I used to think I'd rather go to Aunt John's than to go to Heaven. But I never dared to tell. . . . She'd invited us to come on the 12th of August. It takes all day to get to Aunt John's. She lives at Little River in New HOW TO BE INTERESTING 65 Hampshire away up. You have to wait at South Lawrence in a poky little depot, . . . and you get some played out. At least I don't but Jill does. So we bought a paper and Jill sat up and read it. When he'd sat a minute and read along : "Look here!" said he. ''Look where?" said I. *'Why, there's going to be a comet tonight," said Jill. "Who cares?" said I. Jill laid down the paper, and crimched a pop-corn all up before he answered that. Then said he, "I don't see why father didn't tell us. I s'pose he thought we'd be frightened, or something. Why, s'posing the world did come to an end? That's what this paper says. 'It is predicted' — where's my place? ! I see — 'predicted by learned men that a comet will come into con — con- junction with our plant' — no — 'our planet this night. Whether we shall be plunged into a wild vortex of angry space, or suffocated with n-o-x — noxious gases, or scorched to a helpless crisp, or blasted at once into eternal an-ni-hi '" A gust of wind grabbed the paper out of Jill's hand just then, and took it out of the window ; so I never heard the rest. . . . "Father isn't a goose," said L "He didn't think it worth men- tioning. He isn't going to be afraid of a comet at his time of life ! " So we didn't think any more about the comet till we got to Aunt John's. . . . There was company there. ... It wasn't a relation, only an old schoolmate, and her name was Miss Togy ; so she'd come without an invitation, and had to have the spare room because she was a lady. That was how Jill and I came to be put in the little chimney bedroom. . . . That little chimney bedroom is the funniest place you ever slept in. . . . There'd been a chimney once, and it ran up by the window, and grandfather had it taken away. It was a big, old, oZc^-fashioned chimney, and it left the funniest little gouge in the room ! So the bed went in as nice as could be. We couldn't see much but the ceihng when we got to bed. "It's pretty dark," said Jill; "I shouldn't wonder if it did blow up a Uttle. Wouldn't it scare — Miss — Bogy ! " 66 GOOD ENGLISH "Togy," said I. "Well, T-o — " said Jill; and right in the middle of it he went off as sound as a weasel. The next thing I can remember is a horrible noise — I can't think of but one thing in this world it was like, and that isn't in this world so much. I mean the Last Trumpet, with the Angel blowing as he blows in my old Primer. But the next thing I remember is hearing Jill sit up in bed, — for I couldn't see him, it was so dark, — and his piping out the other half of Miss Togy's name just as he had left it when he went to sleep : ^'Gy! Bo-gy! Yo-gy! Soa-ky! — 0," said Jill, coming to at last, ''I thought . . . why, what's up?" I was up, but I couldn't tell what else was, for a little while. I went to the window. It was as dark as a great rat-hole out-of- doors, all but a streak of lightning and an awful thunder, as if the world was cracking all to pieces. . , . "Come to bed !" shouted Jill, "you'll get struck, and then that'll kill me." I went back to bed, for I didn't know what else to do. We crawled down under the clothes and covered ourselves all up. "W-ould — you — call Aunt — John?" asked Jill. He was 'most choked. I came up for air. "No," said I, "I don't think I'd call Aunt John." I should have liked to call Aunt John by that time ; but then I should have felt ashamed. "I s'pose she has got her hands full with Miss Croaky, anyway," chattered Jill, bobbing up for a breath, and then bobbing under again. By that time the storm was the worst storm I had ever seen in my life — it grew worse and worse. Thunder, lightning, and wind ! Wind, lightning, and thunder ! Rain and roar and awfulness ! I don't know how to tell how awful it was. . . . In the middle of the biggest peal we'd had yet, up jumped Jill. "Jack!" said he, "that comet!" I'd never thought of the comet till that minute; I felt an ugly feeling and a little cold all over. HOW TO BE INTERESTING 67 'It is the comet!" said Jill. "It is the Day of Judgment, Jack." . . . Then it happened. It happened so fast I didn't even have time to get my head under the clothes. First there was a creak. Then a crash. Then we felt a shake as if a giant pushed his shoulder up through the floor and shoved us. Then we doubled up. And then we began to fall. The floor opened, and we went through. I heard the bed-post hit as we went by. . . . Then I felt another crash. Then we began to fall again. Then we bumped down hard. After that we stopped falling. I lay still. My heels were doubled up over my head. I thought my neck would break. But I never dared to stir. I thought I was dead. By and by I wondered if Jill were not dead too. So I undoubted my neck a little and found some air. It seemed to be just as un- comfortable ... to breathe without air when you were dead as when you weren't. I called out softly, "Jill!" No answer. "Jill!" Not a sound. "O — JILL!" But he did not speak. So then I knew Jill must be dead, at any rate. I couldn't help wondering why he was so much deader than I that he couldn't answer a fellow. Pretty soon I heard a rustling noise around my feet. Then a weak, sick kind of a noise — just the noise I always had supposed ghosts would make if they talked. "Jack?" "Is that you, Jill?" "I — suppose — so. Is it you, Jack?" "Yes. Are ^ow dead?" " I don't know. Are you ? " " I guess I must be if you are. How awfully dark it is ! " "Awfully dark ! It must have been the comet ! " "Yes ; did you get much hurt ? " " Not much — I say — Jack ? " "What?" "H it is the Judgment Day — " Jill broke up. So did I. We lay as still as we could. If it were the Judgment Day 68 GOOD ENGLISH "Jill!" said I. "Oh, dear me!" sobbed Jill. We were both crying by that time. I don't feel ashamed to own up, as far as I'm concerned. "If I'd known," said I, "that the Day of Judgment was coming on the 12th of August, I wouldn't have been so mean about that jack-knife of yours with the notch in it ! " "And I wouldn't have eaten up your luncheon that day last winter when I got mad at you," said Jill. "Nor we wouldn't have cheated mother about smoking, vaca- tions," said I. " I'd never have played with the Bailey boys out behind the bam ! " said Jill. "I wonder where the comet went to," said I. "'Whether we shall be plunged into,'" quoted Jill, in a horrible whisper, from that dreadful newspaper, "'shall be plunged into a wild vortex of angry space — or suffocated with noxious gases — or scorched to a helpless crisp — or blasted ' " "When do you suppose they'll come after us?" I interrupted Jill. That very minute somebody came. We heard a step, and then another. Then a heavy bang. Jill howled out a httle. I didn't, for I was thinking how the cellar door banged like that. Then came a voice, an awful, hoarse and trembling voice as ever you'd want to hear, "George Zacharias!" Then I knew it must be the Judgment Day and that the Angel had me up in court to answer him. For you couldn't expect an angel to call you Jack when you were dead. "George Zacharias !" said the awful voice again. I didn't know what else to do, I was so frightened, so I just hollered out, "Here !" as I do at school. "Timothy!" came the voice once more. Now Jill had a bright idea. Up he shouted, "Absent!" at the top of his lungs. "George! Jack! Jill! where are you? Are you killed f 0, wait a minute and I'll bring a light!" This didn't sound so much like Judgment Day as it did like HOW TO BE INTERESTING 69 Aunt John. I began to feel better. So did Jill. I sat up. So did he. It wasn't a minute till the light came into sight and something that looked Uke the cellar door, the cellar stairs, and Aunt John's spotted wrapper, and Miss Togy in a night-gown, away behind, as white as a ghost. Aunt John held the Ught above her head and looked down. I don't believe I shall ever see an angel that will make me feel any better to look at than Aunt John did that night. "0 you blessed boys!" said Aunt John, — she was laughing and crying together. "To think that you should have fallen through the old chimney to the cellar floor and be sitting there alive in such a funny heap as that ! " That was just what we had done. The old flooring — not very secure — had given way in the storm ; and we'd gone down through two stories, where the chimney ought to have been, jam ! into the cellar on the coal heap, and all as good as ever excepting the bed- stead ! PRACTICE (On stories in Lesson Six and Lesson Seven) 1. Make a list of the unfamiliar words in one of the foregoing sto- ries and look them up in the dictionary. 2. Write a letter from Frau Hildesmuller to her daughter Lena. Invent the details. 3. Imagine that Mr. Wynne, instead of calhng at David Dove's school, had written him a letter. Reproduce the letter. 4. Jack writes a letter to a friend about his visit to Aunt John's and the Day of Judgment. Reproduce the letter. 5. Write a letter to the author of one of the above stories, telling him why you Uke it. 6. Which of the characters portrayed in the stories you read do you like best? Give your reasons. 7. Show that the events in the stories you read follow one an- other naturally ; show that each event grows out of a pre- ceding one. 8. Imagine David Dove in Jack and Jill's place at Aunt John's. Tell just how you think he would have behaved. 70 GOOD ENGLISH 9. Tell one of the above first-person stories in the third person. Is anything lost ? Anything gained by the change ? Explain. 10. Tell the story of The Chaparral Prince in the first person, as Lena told it in after years to her children. LESSON EIGHT Planning a Story Remember again the two elements that make for interest in composition — good writing and something to say. Under good writing, in the lessons on letters, we were chiefly concerned with forms, the customs that good letter writers follow in order to make their letters easy to read and to answer. In story telling, there are not so many customs to trouble us, or, rather, the customs of story telUng are those of all good writing, and deal with such things as spell- ing, punctuation, and capitalization. But story telling offers an excellent opportunity to begin the consideration of one of the chief rules for all good writing — the careful planning of all you propose to say. Whenever you speak, whenever you write, there are two steps to take — first the preparation, second the actual speaking or the writing out. Planning is just getting the results of your preparation in clear and visible form. Everything that is worth while doing must be thoroughly planned. You can see evidence of this truth all about you, not only in the achievements of men but also in the workings of nature. Every bolt and screw in a large building is ac- counted for in the plans for that building before human hand is permitted to touch the material out of which it is made. Nature observes the strictest regularity of plan in the succession of days and nights, of months and years, of seasons and centuries. HOW TO BE INTERESTING 71 In writing and speaking you must know not only just what you are going to say but just how you are going to say it as well. And you must learn to plan so easily and so naturally, that, as soon as you are given a task to do, you will, as you prepare, almost unconsciously hit upon a method for the performance of that task. Here is a little plan for the story on page 54. Just below it is a plan for the story on page 56. Study these two plans in connection with the stories from which they are taken. To THE Death 1. Spitz brings down the rabbit a. A contest with Buck 2. Buck attacks Spitz a. A close match b. A fight to the death 3. Spitz gains in the struggle a. The waiting wolfish circles b. Spitz's method of rushing 4. Buck fights by head as well as by instinct a. Sweeps low and in b. Breaks Spitz's left foreleg c. Breaks Spitz's right foreleg 5. Spitz is done for a. A game loser b. The inclosing circle c. Spitz's disappearance 6. Buck stands proudly victorious The Parable of the Talents Introduction 1. The master 2. The three servants 3. The three gifts 72 GOOD ENGLISH Discussion 1. The report of the first servant a. "I have gained other five talents " 2. The report of the second servant a. " I have gained other two talents " 3. The report of the third servant a. "I hid thy talent in the earth " Conclusion 1. The master's reproof 2. The punishment 3. The lesson In planning a story, you may enumerate the principal events in the order in which they occur. This is called the time or chronological order. But it is often better to reserve the most interesting happening for a place near the end. It is sometimes necessary, also, at the outset to explain the situation or to describe the scene of the story or to discuss certain of the important characters. The following general plan will be found useful in preparing to write out stories : — 1. Situation a. Time b. Place c. Characters 2. Happenings The important events, with the most interesting last 3. Result What follows as the result of the event of greatest interest Sometimes, however, a story starts in the middle of things. Such is the case with The Chaparral Prince on page 32. The story opens with Lena in the midst of a sorry situation. Thence, by degrees, it is unfolded, until the reader is taken back to the beginning of Lena's troubles and Lena's hopes. This plan has the advantage of gripping the interest of the HOW TO BE INTERESTING 73 reader at once. It is the method of The Odyssey, of Paradise Lost, and many of the great stories of the world. You may make your stories more vivid and real by telling them in the first person. This sometimes presents diffi- culties, especially when the narrator has to be in one place and the events of the story occur elsewhere. But the diffi- culty may be met by various devices, such as a letter or a diary in which occurrences are reported that took place in the story teller's absence. You will find it an interesting exercise to change a story from one person to another, or to tell a story by means of the conversation of many differ- ent characters. PRACTICE 1. Why is a plan necessary to the telling of a story? 2. How should one go about planning a story? 3. Make a plan for The Day of Judgment (page 64), for Hugh's School Days (page 57), for Buddy and Waffles (page 43). 4. Explain how these plans differ from those given on pages 176, 177, 203. 5. Make a plan and write a short story on one of the following topics : — Why Bill left school. The biography of a school boy. The fish that wouldn't bite. Late — and then ! — . When the canoe upset. Grandma's Wedge wood platter. A day I shall never forget. Finding the treasure. 6. Tell the story of To the Death according to Buck ; that is, use the first person throughout and let Buck do the telling. 7. Imagine that Aunt John was observing Jack and Jill during their frightful night. Tell the story of The Day of Judgment in her words. 8. Plan and write a story in which you show the superior character of some animal by what he does. The following topics may be suggestive : — Toby, the truck horse. Tabby, the patient heroine. Rex, the rescuer. King, the trusty knight of the harness. 74 GOOD ENGLISH 9. Plan and write a story suggested by one of the following : — Pluck Slacker Downed Stuck Nerve Game Cornered Sand 10. Plan and write a story suggested by one of the following : — My first real work. My last penny. My first failure. My first party. My best lesson. My first whipping. My pleasantest surprise. My oldest trick. 11. Tell the story of what happened to Hugh Wynne at school, by means of conversation between Hugh's father and mother. 12. Tell the story of some school contest by means of conversation (1) Among the teachers, or (2) Among the pupils, or (3) Among the parents of the pupils who took part. LESSON NINE Stories in Poetry Told in the Third Person Read some or all of the poems that follow. Which do you like best? Draw up a brief plan for it. Look up the mean- ings of any unfamiliar words. The Old Man and Jim^ (By James Whitcomb Riley) Old man never had much to say — 'Ceptin' to Jim, — And Jim was the wildest boy he had, And the old man jes' wrapped up in him ! Never heerd him speak but once Er twice in my life, — and first time was When the army broke out, and Jim he went, ^ From the Biographical Edition of the Complete Works of James Whit- comb Riley, copyright 1913. Used by special permission of the publishers. The Bobbs-Merrill Company. HOW TO BE INTERESTING 75 The old man backin' him fer three months ; And all 'at I heerd the old man say Was, jes' as we turned to start away, — " Well, good-by, Jim : Take keer of yourse'f !" Teared like he was more satisfied Jes' lookin' at Jim And likin' him all to hisse'f-like, see ? 'Cause he was jes' wrapped up in him ! And over and over I mind the day The old man come and stood round in the way While we was drillin', a-watchin' Jim ; And down at the deepot a-heerin' him say, — "Well, good-by, Jim : Take keer of yourse'f !" Never was nothin' about the farm Disting'ished Jim ; Neighbors all ust to wonder why The old man 'peared wrapped up in him : But when Cap. Biggler, he writ back 'At Jim was the bravest boy we had In the whole dern rigiment, white er black, And his fightin' good as his farmin' bad, — 'At he had led, with a bullet clean Bored through his thigh, and carried the flag Through the bloodiest battle you ever seen, — The old man wound up a letter to him 'At Cap. read to us, 'at said, — " Tell Jim Good-by ; And take keer of hisse'f !" Jim come home jes' long enough To take the whim 'At he'd like to go back in the calvery — And the old man jes' wrapped up in him ! 76 GOOD ENGLISH Jim 'lowed 'at he'd had sich luck afore, Guessed he'd tackle her three years more. And the old man give him a colt he'd raised, And foUered him over to Camp Ben Wade, And laid around fer a week er so, Watchin' Jim on dress-parade ; 'Tel finally he rid away. And last he heerd was the old man say, — "Well, good-by, Jim : Take keer of yourse'f !" Tuk the papers, the old man did, A-watchin' fer Jim, Fully believin' he'd make his mark Some way — jes' wrapped up in him I And many a time the word 'ud come 'At stirred him up like a tap of a drum : At Petersburg, fer instunce, where Jim rid right into their cannons there. And tuk 'em, and p'inted 'em t'other way, And socked it home to the boys in gray, As they skooted fer timber, and on and on — Jim a lieutenant, — and one arm gone, — And the old man's words in his mind all day, - "Well, good-by, Jim : Take keer of yourse'f!" Think of a private, now, perhaps, We'll say like Jim, 'At's clum clean up to the shoulder-straps — And the old man jes' wrapped up in liim ! Think of him — with the war plum' through And the glorious old Red-White-and-Blue A-laughin' the news down over Jim, And the old man, bendin' over him — The surgeon turnin' away with tears HOW TO BE INTERESTING 77 'At hadn't leaked fer years and years, As the hand of the dyin' boy clung to His Father's, the old voice in his ears, — "Well, good-by, Jim : Take keer of yourse'f !" First Appearance at the Odeon (By James T. Fields) " I am Nicholas Tacchinardi, — hunchbacked, look you, and a fright ; Caliban himself might never interpose so foul a sight. Granted ; but I come not, masters, to exhibit form or size. Gaze not on my Umbs, good people ; lend your ears and not your eyes. I'm a singer, not a dancer, — spare me for a while your din ; Let me try my voice tonight here, — keep your jests till I begin. Have the kindness but to hsten, — this is all I dare to ask. See, I stand beside the foothghts, waiting to begin my task. If I fail to please you, curse me, — not before my voice you hear, Thrust me not from the Odeon. Hearken, and I've naught to fear." Then the crowd in pit and boxes jeered the dwarf, and mocked his shape ; Called him "monster," "thing abhorrent," crying "off, presump- tuous ape ! Off, unsightly, baleful creature ! off, and quit the insulted stage ! Move aside, repulsive figure, or deplore our gathering rage." Bowing low, pale Tacchinardi, long accustomed to such threats, Burst into a grand bravura, showering notes like diamond jets, j— Sang until the ringing plaudits through the wide Odeon rang, — Sang as never soaring tenor ere behind those foothghts sang ; And the hunchback, ever after, like a god was hailed with cries, — "Eling of minstrels, live forever! Shame on fools who have but eyes!" 78 GOOD ENGLISH The Ballad of the Oysterman (By Oliver Wendell Holmes) It was a tall young oysterman lived by the river-side, His shop was just upon the bank, his boat was on the tide; The daughter of a fisherman, that was so straight and slim, Lived over on the other bank, right opposite to him. It was the pensive oysterman that saw a lovely maid. Upon the moonlight evening, a sitting in the shade ; He saw her wave her handkerchief, as much as if to say, "I'm wide awake, young oysterman, and all the folks away." Then up arose the oysterman, and to himself said he, " I guess I'll leave the skiff at home, for fear that folks should see ; I read it in the story book, that, for to kiss his dear, Leander swam the Hellespont, — and I will swim this here." And he has leaped into the waves, and crossed the shining stream, And he has clambered up the bank, all in the moonlight gleam ; O there were kisses sweet as dew, and words as soft as rain, — But they have heard her father's step, and in he leaps again ! Out spoke the ancient fisherman, — "0 what was that, my daughter?" '"Twas nothing but a pebble, sir, I threw into the water;" "And what is that, pray tell me, love, that paddles off so fast?" "It's nothing but a porpoise, sir, that's been a swimming past.'* Out spoke the ancient fisherman, — "Now bring me my harpoon ! I'll get into my fishing-boat, and fix the fellow soon ; " Down fell that pretty innocent, as falls a snow-white lamb, Hor hair drooped round her pallid cheeks, like sea- weed on a clam. Alas for those two loving ones ! she waked not from her s wound. And he was taken with the cramp, and in the waves was drowned ; But Fate has metamorphosed them, in pity of their woe. And now they keep an oyster-shop for mermaids down below. HOW TO BE INTERESTING 79 The Highwayman^ (By Alfred Noyes) Part One The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees, The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, And. the highwayman came riding — Riding — riding — The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door. He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin, A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doeskin ; They fitted with never a wrinkle : his boots were up to the thigh ! And he rode with a jeweled twinkle. His pistol butts a-twinkle. His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky. Ill Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn yard, And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred ; He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's daughter. Plaiting a dark red love knot into her long black hair. IV And dark in the dark old inn yard a stable-wicket creaked Where Tim the ostler listened ; his face was white and peaked ; His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like moldy hay, * Used by permission of The Macmillan Company. 80 GOOD ENGLISH But he loved the landlord's daughter, The landlord's red-lipped daughter, Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say — "One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize tonight, But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light ; Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day. Then look for me by moonhght. Watch for me by moonhght, I'll come to thee by moonhght, though hell should bar the way." VI He rose upright in the stirrups ; he scarce could reach her hand, But she loosened her hair i' the casement ! His face burned Uke a brand As the black cascade of perfume came tumbHng over his breast ; And he kissed its waves in the moonhght, (Oh, sweet black waves in the moonhght !) Then he tugged at his rein in the moonhght, and galloped away to the West. Part Two He did not come in the dawning ; he did not come at noon ; And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon, Wlien the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor, A redcoat troop came marching — Marching — Marching — King George's men came marching, up to the old inn door. n They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead. But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed ; HOW TO BE INTERESTING 81 Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side ! There was death at every window ; And hell at one dark window ; For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride. in They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest ; They had boimd a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast ! "Now keep good watch !" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say * Look for me by moonlight; Watch for me by moonlight; I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way ! IV She twisted her hands behind her ; but all the knots held good ! She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood ! They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years, Till, now, on the stroke of midnight. Cold on the stroke of midnight. The tip of one finger touched it ! The trigger at least was hers ! The tip of one finger touched it ; she strove no more for the rest ! Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast, She would not risk their hearing ; she would not strive again ; For the road lay bare in the moonlight ; Blank and bare in the moonhght ; And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain. ^ She already thought of her lover as dead. 82 GOOD ENGLISH VI Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear ; TloHlotf tlot-tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear ? Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill, The highwayman came riding, Riding, — riding ! The redcoats looked to their priming ! She stood up, straight and still! VII Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence ! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night ! Nearer he came and nearer ! Her face was like a hght ! Her eyes grew wide for a moment ; she drew one last deep breath, Then her finger moved in the moonUght, Her musket shattered the moonhght, Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him — with her death. vin He turned ; he spurred to the Westward ; he did not know who stood Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood ! Not till the dawn he heard it, and slowly blanched to hear How Bess, the landlord's daughter, The landlord's black-eyed daughter, Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there. DC Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky, With the white road smoking behind him, and his rapier brandished high! Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat ; HOW TO BE INTERESTING 83 When they shot him down on the highway, Down like a dog on the highway, And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat. And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees, When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, A highwayman comes riding — Riding — riding — A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn door. XI Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn yard; And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred; He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's daughter, Plaiting a dark red love knot into her long black hair. LESSON TEN Stories in Poetry Told in the First Person Which of the following poems do you like the better? Draw up a brief plan for The Yarn of the Nancy Bell. Look up all unfamiliar words in these poems : — Bird Thoughts I lived first. in a little house, and lived there very well, I thought the world was small and round, and made of pale blue shell. I lived next in a little nest, nor needed any other, I thought the world was made of straw, and brooded to my mother. 84 GOOD ENGLISH One day I fluttered from the nest to see what I could find, I said : ''The world is made of leaves ; I have been very blind." At length I flew beyond the tree, quite fit for grown-up labors, I don't know how the world is made, and neither do my neighbors ! The Yarn of the "Nancy Bell" (By W. S. Gilbert) 'Twas on the shores that round our coast From Deal to Ramsgate span, That I found alone, on a piece of stone, An elderly naval man. His hair was weedy, his beard was long, And weedy and long was he ; And I heard this wight on the shore recite, In a singular minor key : "Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold, And the mate of the Nancy brig. And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, And the crew of the captain's gig." And he shook his fists and he tore his hair, Till I really felt afraid. For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking, And so I simply said : "Oh, elderly man, it's little I know Of the duties of men of the sea. And I'll eat my hand if I understand However you can be "At once a cook, and a captain bold, And the mate of the Nancy brig, And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, And the crew of the captain's gig." HOW TO BE INTERESTING 85 Then he gave a hitch to his trousers, which Is a trick all seamen larn, And having got rid of a thumping quid, He spun this painful yarn : "'Twas in the good ship Nancy Bell That we sailed to the Indian Sea, And there on a reef we come to grief, Which has often occurred to me. "And pretty nigh all o' the crew was drowned (There was seventy-seven o' soul), And only ten of the Nancy^s men Said ' Here ! ' to the muster-roll. "There was me, and the cook, and the captain bold, And the mate of the Nancy brig, And the bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite. And the crew of the captain's gig. "For a month we'd neither wittles nor drink, Till a-hungry we did feel, So we drawed a lot, and, accordin' shot The captain for our meal. "The next lot fell to the Nancy's mate, And a delicate dish he made ; Then our appetite with the midshipmite We seven survivors stayed. "And then we murdered the bo'sun tight. And he much resembled pig ; 'Then we wittled free, did the cook and me, On the crew of the captain's gig. "Then only the cook and me was left, And the deUcate question, ' Which Of us two goes to the kettle ? ' arose. And we argued it out as sich. 86 GOOD ENGLISH " For I loved that cook as a brother, I did, And the cook he worshipped me ; But we'd both be blowed if we'd either be stowed In the other chap's hold, you see. '"I'll be eat if you dines off me,' says Tom. 'Yes, that,' says I, 'you'll be, — I'm boiled if I die, my friend,' quoth I ; And 'Exactly so,' quoth he. " Says he : ' Dear James, to murder me Were a fooUsh thing to do. For don't you see that you can't cook me. While I can — and will — cook you ! ' " So he boils the water, and takes the salt And the pepper in portions true (Which he never forgot), and some chopped shalot, And some sage and parsley too. "'Come here,' says he, with a proper pride, Which his smiling features tell, * 'Twill soothing be if I let you see How extremely nice you'll smell.' "And he stirred it round and round and roimd, And he sniffed at the foaming froth ; When I ups with his heels, and smothers his squeals In the scum of the boiling broth. "And I eat that cook in a week or less, And — as I eating be The last of his chops, why, I almost drops, For a wessel in sight I see. ******* "And I never larf, and I never smile, And I never lark nor play ; But sit and croak, and a single joke I have — which is to say : HOW TO BE INTERESTING 87 " Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold And the mate of the Nancy brig, And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, And the crew of the captain's gig !" PRACTICE (On poems in Lesson Nine and Lesson Ten) 1. In which of the above poems are the most unusual events set forth ? Explain. 2. Which of these poems portrays the most lovable human char- acter? Tell something about this character. 3. Reproduce Captain Biggler's letter (mentioned in the second stanza on page 75) . Follow good letter form and add to the contents of the letter from your imagination. 4. Which of the above poems is most interesting because of its characters ? Which is the most interesting because of its events? Which has the most interesting scene or setting? 5. Tell the story of The Ballad of the Oysterman or of The Highway- man or of Bird Thoughts, in a letter to a friend. LESSON ELEVEN Interest in Story Telling A well-planned story will always be interesting, if its subject matter is interesting. The best-planned story about the tiresome events of a dull hour waiting for a train in a country station would probably not awake attention. On the other hand, a story badly told of the wild ride of a plunging, driverless automobile down the main street of a village would be interesting, — though it would be much more interesting if told well. What makes interesting subject matter for stories? The answer is the same as to the questions, "What interests you 88 GOOD ENGLISH in your life? What arouses your attention? " First of all, perhaps, events a little out of the ordinary, events that stir your imagination because you enjoy them; or that leave a vivid impression because, even if unpleasant, they are so different from the ordinary run of experience. No one is, or should be, content with the dull routine of doing just the same things day after day. It is human nature to follow one's impulses occasionally and seek for something new; or if novelty comes of itself, to enjoy it. Men and women who have been condemned by hard circumstances to labor for many years at monotonous tasks, with few holidays and no break in routine, become cramped in mind, and incapable of enjoyment when the opportunity arrives. Now, many stories deal with events that are different from everyday experience, and it is this that makes them so interesting. Indeed, stories have comforted the human race in the midst of monotonous toil since the beginning of recorded time. And it is precisely the unusual events that you yourself have seen, or imagined, which will make interesting subject matter for stories. Plan the telling of these events and they will be more interesting still. But events do not constitute the only interesting elements in a story. Some one must act and think and speak in the events of which you are going to tell. There must be, as the old books put it, a "hero" or a ''heroine" ; and he or she must usually have companions. We are interested ordinarily in the people in our stories quite as much as in the events ; sometimes we are interested more. And we are especially interested in what we call their "character" or their "personality." Sometimes this character is humorous (events, of course, can be humorous, too). Sometimes it is pathetic; some- times it is strong; sometimes weak. But as long as it ^^^^^^^^^m ^ }' ^ fc 'P > ^ SJri^^ ''^-^ '^ % / 90 GOOD ENGLISH bears some resemblance (even a humorous one) to human nature, we are interested. Indeed, it does not have to be human in order to be like human nature. In The Jungle Books, Kipling gives the traits of men to animals, and so does Ernest Seton-Thompson in Wild Animals I Have Known. In Kipling's .007 a locomotive is the hero ; a bowlder in the field, a house, an ant, a day, the moon, can be given a char- acter and made the hero or the heroine of a story. And there is still one other element in a story that makes for interest. This is the scene, the background, the " setting '* as it is often called. Every scene is interesting if you study it closely and sympathetically, even the slum backyard with its piles of refuse, even the stretch of desert with its monoto- nous sage brush and sand. However, other scenes will probably be much more interesting for you than these. It is the scene that interests you — your own town, the country you see in the summer, the wild mountains you saw from the train window — that should go into your stories. PRACTICE 1. Select the incidents from an unusually exciting school day that might be interesting enough to use in a story. 2. Look over the stories you have written in earlier lessons and decide whether you have always selected the most interesting of possible events. 3. Make a list of interesting characters you have known that might be used in stories. Write a story about one of them, planning it first. 4. Make a list of possible "heroes" for stories, drawn from the animal or the inanimate world. Write a story about one of them, planning it first. 6. Study the picture on the preceding page. Plan and write a little story suggested by it. HOW TO BE INTERESTING 91 LESSON TWELVE Interest in Words Suppose that what you have to say, whether in a letter or a story, is worth the saying. Suppose that, if it is in a letter, you have comphed with all the customs of good letter writing. Suppose that, if it is in a story, you have planned it well, selected the most interesting episodes, chosen the best form of telling. Suppose that you have seen and felt truly, thought well, and carefully expressed what lies in your mind. Nevertheless, you may still fail to be interesting (or clear or convincing) unless you have found the right words. And if the compositions you have written for the previous lessons are not nearly so interesting as the subjects seemed to be when you chose them, the trouble probably lies in your choice of words. A word is a name. Call John, Joseph, and he will not answer. Call a sluggish horse a slow one and your reader will not get the truth. The thing, the thought, the action, the color, the smell, the feeling, — all in the world about us or the mind within us that can be named by words, must be exactly named before we can write accurately and well. Only by an exact knowledge of words and by precision in their use is it possible to make speaking and writing interesting. Words themselves are interesting. A little study of them reveals in many cases an origin and a history that make absorbing reading. And there is perhaps no study that pays so well in the end as the study of words. You cannot express yourself with accuracy and fineness unless you have a large vocabulary that is ready at hand when you need it. The ignorant person who is obliged to depend upon but few words for the expression of his ideas 92 GOOD ENGLISH is at a decided loss to make his wants known with any degree of nicety. A Milton or a Shakespeare, with thousands of words at his command, can secure the finest shades of mean- ing in his expression, and thus insure his work against time. You yourself, as you add new words to your vocabulary in order to express the new things you are learning and think- ing, will feel your power over expression grow. You will not only write better, you will also think better. The most interesting study of words is not of their classi- fications, but of the use to be made of them. There are a few definitions and classifications of words, however, that should be learned first. Study carefully those that follow : — A STANDARD WORD is oue that is used by the best speakers and writers. You will invariably find it in any good dic- tionary. A TECHNICAL WORD is One that applies to some narrow range or field of activity. Every trade, every profession, every pursuit, has a vocabulary peculiar to itself. Piston is a technical engineering term; tee belongs to golf; riveting to construction work; parboil to domestic science, and so forth. A COLLOQUIAL WORD or phrase is used in ordinary conversa- tion, but not, as a rule, in formal writing or speaking. The folks, All right, Hold on (in the sense of "Wait for me") are colloquial expressions. A COINED WORD is a word invention made for the purpose of meeting a new need of expression. When the cinematograph came into general use, there was no simple word at hand to name the pictures. The movies was coined from ''moving pictures," and has been widely adopted. Marconigram is another coinage, this time from the name of the inventor of wireless telegraphy. Coinages are usually made by com- bination rather than by outright invention. Motor was HOW TO BE INTERESTING 93 originally a noun only. Since the gasoline engine has be- come so common, it is used not only as a verb, motored^ motoring, but has also been placed in more than one com- bination, motor car, motor boat, etc. Slang is made up of coined and colloquial words that are not in good usage. It is often language in the making ; it is quite as often language breaking down, losing its fine shades of meaning, and therefore its expressiveness. Do'pe, rooky, get on the hand wagon are examples. The first and last are too vague or too local in their meanings to be valu- able. The second, as a name for a new recruit, is really expressive, and may survive. Slang is dangerous because it tends to limit the vocabulary, one slang expression serv- ing for many meanings ; and because it is never generally understood. New York slang is often meaningless to a Texan. Synonyms are words that mean almost the same thing, as, — like and similar; system and method; fun and sport. Homonyms are words that are pronounced alike but have different meanings, as, — in and inn; hart and heart; mantel and mantle. Antonyms are words directly opposed to one another in meaning, as, — short and long ; praise and scorn ; anxiety and apathy. Antonyms are frequently formed by the use of a negative prefix, as, — regular and irregular ; resistance and non-resistance. There are other, less important classifications of words that it is well, at least, to know about. An obsolete word is one that was once in good standing in the language but has passed out of use, as favour for appearance. An archaic WORD is obsolete as far as general usage is concerned, but has been revived for poetry, or for writing that aims to create an old-time atmosphere, as y-clept for called, or an for if. A 94 GOOD ENGLISH PROVINCIAL WORD is used only in a limited section of the country, as reckon in the South, and guess in New England and elsewhere, for think. A dialectic word belongs to some dialect that differs somewhat from the standard language, as bonny in Scottish for comely or satisfactory. Foreign WORDS or PHRASES are often borrowed from another language to express meanings not easily or exactly conveyed in Eng- lish, as tete a tete, au revoir, status quo. Be moderate in their use. Use English where Enghsh will serve. PRACTICE 1. Explain the meaning of the following words 2. 3. footballing aviation you-all chores sware pedal right (in "he is right good") lot (in **a lot of dogs") aeroplane alderney shunt audit carburetor auld lang syne binder label hoof passport Classify the words above according as they are archaic, techni- cal, colloquial, provincial, ( iialectical, slang, or coined. Look up the following words in the dictionary. What do they mean? What does the dictionary tell you of their interesting origin? alphabet derrick lynch quixotic babel dunce macadamize shrapnel bloomer fad mackintosh sophomore boycott galvanic namby-pamby volt daily gerrymander pompadour zeppelin One pupil asked another, "Have you Csesared yet?" He meant, "Have you studied the lesson in Csesar yet?" In- vent similar coinages that pertain to your work. Which, if any, do you think possible of permanent adoption in the language? Why? HOW TO BE INTERESTING 95 5. Give homonyms for the following : — fain greave heard medal seen flue hair heir our sere fur hale bear raise tail gait hart limb rap you 6. Give antonjrms for the following : — advance clear fierce good rapid aid dull genius irregular run beneficial earn get learned save certain end give neglect work 7. Give synonyms for the following : — able aged balk check hard above argument beauty claim obstinate accurate art belief coldness prepare acquire avenge calmness game queer 8. What is your own opinion of the following words? How did they come into use, do you suppose ? Tell as nearly as you can, without looking them up, what they mean : — bang clatter hark swish twitter buzz cUck hiss tinkle whew chatter fizz jingle titter whiz clang growl mew turnpike wow 9. Make lists of words that bear upon your father's work ; upon your mother's work ; upon some game you like to play ; upon some work you have to do every day ; upon the subjects you have studied or are now studying. 10. Write five sentences, each containing a slang word or phrase, or a colloquial word or phrase. Rewrite them in standard English. LESSON THIRTEEN The Dictionary^ If you would be expert in the use of words, acquire the dictionary habit. A good dictionary registers the best 1 The major part of this lesson is taken from E. W. Gavins' Teaching the Use of the Dictionary in the School News for September, 1917. 96 GOOD ENGLISH usage of the best speakers and writers of the time. It will correct your misuse of words, your misspelUngs of words, and your mispronunciation of words. It will do more than this, — it will help you to increase your vocabulary. You must have a large number of words that are your own. Milton, you know, *' owned ^' 8000 words ; Shakespeare, twice that many. The modern dictionary hsts upwards of 500,000 words that are now in use in one place or another, in one form or another. Many children on entering school have a vocabulary of about 3000 words. A child of twelve is not infrequently acquainted with from 7000 to 10,000 words. The number of words in the speaking vocabulary of a scholar is often 30,000. It is a good plan to have a small pocket dictionary with you all the time, in order to look up an unknown or doubtful word when you encounter it. To delay, as a rule, means to forget. Once you have found the word in a dictionary, be sure that you know the signs and directions that help explain it. These are the symbols that should be kept in mind, — ' means the primary or chief accent, — heart'y. " means the secondary or less heavy accent, — in"sig'nif'i'€ant. - is used to separate syllables when accent marks do not. * is used by the Standard Dictionary to denote hyphen ; and the heavy dash(-) is used by Webster for the same purpose, thus fire-escape, or driving-wheel. < means that a word is derived from another one. t means that a word is obsolete. II means that a word is archaic. § means that a word is rare. X means that a word is variant ; that is, a slightly different form of another word meaning almost the same thing. Fuze is a variant of fuse. HOW TO BE INTERESTING 97 Here are some of the more important abbreviations used in the dictionary. If you famiharize yourself with them you will be greatly helped in looking up words. A complete list will be found in any good dictionary, — a. adjective i. e. that is (id est) abbr. abbreviate inter j . interjection A. D. Anno Domini L. Latin adv. adverb myth. mythology ant. antonym n. noun AS. Anglo-Saxon obs. obsolete B.C. Before Christ pert. pertaining Bib. Bible pi. plural cap. capital poet. poetry of. compare (confer) p. page colloq. colloquial pp. pages conj. conjunction pop. population contr. contraction p. p. past participle deriv. derivation p. pr. present participle dial. dialectic prep. preposition dim. diminutive pres. present Eng. English prob. probably esp. especially prov. provincial etal. and others r. rare etc. and so forth rhet. rhetoric etym. etymology Rom. Roman fig. figurative sp. spelUng F. French syn. synonym fr. from U.S. United States Gr. Greek V. i. verb intransitive gram. grammar V. t. verb transitive There are certain signs used to indicate the sound and quantity of letters, particularly of vowels. Two dots over a, for instance, (a), means that it is to be sounded ah as in art. H 98 GOOD ENGLISH A dash over c, (e), means that it is to be pronounced Uke a, as in prey. Other such modifications are hsted and explained in the dictionary, usually on the page preceding the first page of words, under the title Key to Pronunciation. This key should of course be consulted whenever you are in doubt about the sound of a letter. The correct pronunciation of a word is given immediately after the word itself. If more than one pronunciation is allowable, the preferred one is given first. The same is true when two spellings are permitted. Next, the part of speech is indicated by means of an abbreviation written in italics or small capitals. The parts of verbs are given in parentheses, as is also the comparison of adjectives. The source from which a word comes is given in paren- theses, usually after the definition. If a word is technical, the trade or profession or science to which it belongs is indicated also. Brigade, for example, is a technical word that belongs to military science. If a word is used as two parts of speech, it is defined in two ways, and the definitions are separated. Similarly, if the word has two or more separate and distinct uses or meanings, these are given in numbered order. Words that are used in making up compound words are compounded, usually in heavy type, below the definition proper. These are the principal ''means of identification" that you should be familiar with, if you are to look up words intelhgently. All of them are not to be found in the small pocket dictionary, for the little book has to be too closely printed to admit of elaborate word analysis. It must be remembered, too, that the different dictionaries — the Cen- HOW TO BE INTERESTING 99 tury, the Oxford, the Standard, the Webster, the Worcester — disagree to some extent in the use of these marks. All dictionaries do not use all of them ; some dictionaries use additional ones. While the majority of the marks are used in the ordinary desk dictionary, a much fuller word analysis is of course to be found in the large unabridged dictionary. Learn to find words quickly, and to employ the vast re- sources of the dictionary in your everyday work. Time spent in learning to use the dictionary is time well spent, for more than one reason. It will mean a saving of time later on, not only in using the dictionary itself, but in con- sulting encyclopedias, city and telephone directories, and alphabetical lists of all kinds. Make use of the ** Guide Words,'' the words in large type at the top of each page of the dictionary. There is no need of running down col- umns. "Pounce" on words, do not hunt. Use judgment; open the dictionary not more than twice for each word. While the middle of the alphabet is between m and n, the middle of the dictionary is between k and L The end of the first quarter is in the d's ; of the third quarter, in the r's. Many words begin with s, c, and p ; few with j, k, q, x, y, z; five times as many begin with s as with k, q, x, y, or z. If you use respectively when you mean respectfully, if you pay pos-i-tive'ly for pos'i-tive-ly, if you spell coming with an e, thus, comeing, you will quite properly be called an illiter- ate person. The diligent use of the dictionary will save you from these pitfalls. Regard it as an old friend. Con- sult it freely for advice. Have you noticed that you nearly always hesitate when you are about to use a word that you are not quite certain of? This is a warning. Heed it as you would heed orders from your physician in case of illness. 100 GOOD ENGLISH PRACTICE 1. The following excerpts are taken from the Standard Dictionary, by permission of Funk & Wagnalls Company. Study the signs used and the form of word analysis : — ac-com'pIishS 1 a-kem'pli^; 2 a-cSm'plIsh, vt. t. To bring to pass; perform; effect. . 2. To bring to comple- tion; finish. [ < L.*" ad, to, + compleo; see complete, v.] Synj achieve, complete, consummate, discharge, do. effect, execute, finish, fulfil, perform, realize. Perform and accomplish both Imply working toward the end: but perform always allows a possibility of not attaining, while accomplish carries the thought of full completion. In Longfellow's lines, "'Patience; auomplis h thy lahor," etc. .perform could not be substituted without great loss. As between complete and accomplish, complete conaiderarsither the thing as done; accomplish, the whole process of doing it. Achieve— to do something worthy of a chief — signifies always to perform some great and generally some worthy exploit. See attain; BFF?CT. fcour'te-sy, 1 k'Or'ti-si; 2 cOr'te-sy, n. [-sies^, pi] 1. Genuine and habitual politeness ; courtliness. 2. A cour- teous favor or act. 3. Common consent. [ < F. cour- toisie.] cur'tc-syt. Syn.: see address. Compare polite. —courtesy (or curtesy) of England, the tenure by which a man holds for life the estates of his deceased wife Inheritable by their children. 8yn'o-nym, 1 sin'o-nim; 2 si^n'o-n^m, n. 1. A word having the same or almost the same meaning as some other; oftener, one of a number of words that have one or more meanings in common. 2. The equivalent of a word in another language. ( < Gr.^"*"*" syn, together, + onoma, name.] syn'o-nymej. — sy-non'y-mist, n. A col- lector and expounder of synonyms.— syn''o-nym'i-ty, n. — sy-non'y-mlzc, vt. [-mized; -miz'ing.) To give the synonyms of; express by words of different meaning. 2. There is much confusion about the use of the hyphen in certain Enghsh words. Even the dictionaries do not agree as to the compounding of certain words. Some words are usually written with the hyphen, — horse- power, nickle-plated, sheet-iron. The following are better written as single words : — meantime, maybe, meanwhile, anyway, awhile. Any one and every one are usually written as two words, but the following should be written as single words : — anybody, everybody, anything, nothing, nobody, everything, forever. Usage varies as to the hyphen in tonight, today, and tomorrow ; there is a growing tendency to regard them as single words. HOW TO BE INTERESl'II^ ibi Which of the following should be written as compound words with hyphen, which as single words, and which as two or more in- dependent words? Look up each one in the dictionary : — 5. base ball foot ball rail road bird's eye view frame work shoe maker ' black smith shop ginger cake sitting room book keeping head ache steam boat business like ice house stomach ache canal boat Jew's harp store room class room lumber yard tooth ache composing room mid way type writing cook book note book ware house dining car per cent wheat field death's head printing press work shop dress maker rabbit's foot every day Syllabize and accent properly the following words. Use the dictionary : — absolutely anxiety familiar predecessor accountant athletics governor prejudice adjective beneficial legislature punctuation administration colonel laboratory regular admittance convenient operator representative agriculture disability persuasion reversible antagonistic embroidery precedent yesterday Look up the following words and tell how the dictionary explains them : — a-gley hustle nonne pub bungalow ilk nonesuch pucka fere kern pseudo shack Ex- Look up the following words for definition particularly, plain what you find out about each one : — chief judge part rare sober endeavor note prediction sample transit 6. Study the signs indicating the pronunciation of letters, as found in your dictionary. Write ten words and indicate their pro- nunciation by means of certain signs. 102 GOOD ENGLISH 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. Examine the appendix of an unabridged dictionary. What infor- mation is contained there ? Should a dictionary be a word book only, do you think, or a book of general information? Why? As you glance through an unabridged dictionary, you see certain illustrations. Why are some words illustrated and others not ? Explain. Use all the diacritical marks you know for the letter a. What are guide words ? Where are they found and what does each indicate ? What is the key hne in the dictionary ? Where is it and how is it used? How does the dictionary help you to pronounce a word? In what way is syllabication indicated in the dictionary ? How are compound or hyphenated words distinguished in the dictionary from other words written with a hyphen between certain syllables? Compete with your classmates in finding the following words in the dictionary. Look them up in the order given : — dis course ly ce um ro bust re com-se com pa ra ble mus tache ad dress har ass gon do la vi Un a dult op po nent ho ri zon for mid a ble hos pit a ble i de a pre tense re cess ex qui site in ven to ry lam en ta ble ro mance des sert des pi ca ble ally Compete with your classmates in arranging the following words alphabetically : — - observe construction measurement measure hollyhock tennis material obsolete following tenant proposition constitution foolscap thermometer proposal observation theory penman pennant whether obstacle metric cucumber hoUowness HOW TO BE INTERESTING 103 LESSON FOURTEEN Speaking When a good story is well written, that is, well planned, and well worded, it will be interesting, unless it is badly read. And if your stories are to be told and not written, bad speaking can ruin the very best of material. Further- more, just as your choice of words will often indicate your brain power, so your manner of speaking will usually indi- cate the degree of refinement and true cultivation that you have attained. To speak well is an accomplishment as valuable as good writing ; and it must be acquired, if ever, when you are young. Here are just a few general rules for speaking, — 1. Breathe long, deep breaths. Feel your body contract and expand all the way from your diaphragm to your head, as you exhale and inhale. 2. Look the person or the people to whom you are speak- ing straight in the eyes when you speak. 3. Be sure to pronounce your words correctly and clearly and distinctly. Be equally sure that your sentences, even though far looser and more informal than in writing, are complete. No mere statement of such rules as these will be of much use to you unless you wish to speak well. In a very large measure you must be your own teacher. Do not be afraid to speak as well as you can. It is not affectation to speak good EngUsh, for good English well spoken is the simplest, clearest, and most natural expression for your thoughts. Use good words rather than big ones. Do not assume "airs and graces," in your speech, but aim to pronounce simple words clearly and correctly. Americans have a national habit of 104 GOOD ENGLISH " slurring '^ their words, even when they pronounce them correctly. It is a bad habit, for it makes speech difficult to understand and unpleasant to the ear. They have an equally bad habit of talking through the nose, so that in a group of mixed races an American can be distinguished by the unpleasant qualities of his voice, and the difficulty of understanding the words he slurs or nasalizes. This genera- tion will never be rid of these faults. They have become second-nature and will stick. But you, the new generation, can restore good speaking in America, if you will take seriously your voices and your words. Good speech habits are no harder to acquire than bad ones. PRACTICE Perhaps the most dangerous errors to be guarded against are the two indicated in the third rule above, — mispronunciation and faulty construction. In this exercise you are asked to give most of your attention to the correction of mispronunciation. In the practice on pages 149 and 160 bad constructions are treated. Practice the proper pronunciation of the words in the lists below. They are by no means exhaustive. Add to them for practice your own special word troubles. Know also how to spell these words and how to use them ; in short, make them your own. And above all remember that a word correctly pronounced is not well spoken until it is said clearly and distinctly, with due expression for each of the syllables, — until, in other words, it is properly enunciated. 1. The pronunciation of n^, — Do not pronounce ng as nk\ do not pronounce nfc as ng, — bring, not brink; king, not kink; ring, not rink; sink, not sing; think, not thing. Do not sUght ng in the middle of a word, — length, not lenHh; strength, not strength. Do not repeat the g in the combination ng, — bringing, not bring- ging; figure, not Jigger ; flinging, not flingging ; singing, not singging. Do not missyllabize words in which ng occurs, — an-ger, not ang-er; fin-ger, not fing-er; lin-ger, not ling-er; sin-gle, not sing-le. HOW TO BE INTERESTING 105 Do not omit g from the syllable ing, — coming, not comin' ; cuu' ning, not cunnin' ; going, not goin' ; playing, not playin\ 2. The pronunciation oi th, — Do not slight or mispronounce th when it occurs at the end of a word, — depth, eighth, twelfth, with. Do not pronounce th as if it were t, — think, not Vink ; thirst, not first; thought, not fot; thousand, not thousand; throat, not froat; through, not tru; throw, not tWow. Do not pronounce th (voiced) as if it were d, — that, not dat; the, not de; then, not den; there, not dere; this, not dis. Do not pronounce ^^ as if it were p in the word something, — something, not sumpi?i\ 3. The pronunciation of wh, — Do not pronounce wh as if it were w, — what not wat ; when, not wen ; which, not wich; whisper, not wisper; white, not lyiie; why, not lyy. 4. The pronunciation of r, — Do not pronounce r as if it were w, — red, not wed; rise, not wise; rough, not wough. Do not omit r when it occurs at the end of a word, — bar, not hah; butter, not buttah; car, not cah. But do not roll r when it occurs at the end of a word, — bar, not barr ; car, not carr. Do not add or insert or misplace r in the following words : — children, not childern; drawing, not drawring; hurrah, not hurroar ; idea, not idear ; law, not /!ore; row;, not roar; saw, not soar;