Practise this with forefinger pointing upward and with open palm. The former is intellectual, the latter more emotional, open-hearted, strong. The hands are thrust out as if to push something away, while the whole body draws back and turns away as if shrinking from some dreaded or displeasing object. Of course, the strength of the action will depend upon the degree of repugnance. It may vary from playful, or pretended repulsion to that caused by ex treme fear. Remember to draw back the hips more than the shoulders. Practise in various directions: in front, at the sides, upward, and downward, keeping the eye fixed on the object, and also turning the face away, as if unable to endure the sight. EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE. It is only the pure fountain that brings forth pure water. The good tree only will produce the good fruit. If the centre from which all proceeds is pure and holy, the radii of influence from it will be pure and holy also. Go forth, then, into the spheres that you occupy, the employments, the trades, the professions of social life; go forth into the high places or into the lowly places of the land; mix with the roaring cataracts of social convulsions, or mingle amid the eddys and streamlets of quiet and domestic life; whatever sphere you fill, carrying into it a holy heart, you will radiate around you life and power, and leave behind you holy and beneficent influences.—Cumming. Up from the meadows, rich with corn, Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.—Whittier. "Come back, come back, Horatius!" loud cried the fathers all. "Back, Lartius! back, Herminius! Back, ere the ruin fall!" -Macaulay. "The olde sea-wall (he cried) is downe; The rising tide comes on apace, And boats adrift in yonder towne Go sailing uppe the market-place." He shook as one that looks on death. A moment there was awful pause When Berkeley cried, "Cease, traitor! cease; The other shouted, "Nay, not so, When God is with our righteous cause; His holiest places then are ours."-T. B. Read. BRUTUS. HOW ill this taper burns! Ha! who comes here? I think it is the weakness of mine eyes That shapes this monstrous apparition. Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare? Speak to me what thou art. GHOST. Thy evil spirit, Brutus. BRU. Why comest thou? GHOST. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi. BRU. Well; then I shall see thee again? GHOST. Aye, at Philippi. BRU. Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then. [Exit GHOST.] Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest: Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee. Boy Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake! While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us, for us and our children. Beyond that I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that, in my day at least, that curtain may not rise! God grant that on my vision never may be opened what lies behind! When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood! Let their last feeble and lingering glance, rather, behold gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now known and honored throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star obscured-bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as “ What is all this worth ? "nor those other words of delusion and folly, "Liberty first, and Union afterwards"-but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment dear to every true American heart—LIBERTY and UNION, now and forever, ONE AND INSEPARABLE!-Webster. LESSON XXXVII. Articulation.-Continued.-Difficult The following list of words and sentences contains specimens of nearly every difficult combination of consonant-sounds that you are likely to meet in reading. Some are, of course, very rarely found, but all should be practised in order to attain flexibility and accuracy in the use of the agents of articulation. Acts, facts, lists, ghosts, depths, droop'st, adopts, fifths, laughst, hookst, desks, satst, help'st, twelfths, thefts, milk'st, halt'st, limp'st, attemptst, want'st, thinkst, warpst, dwarfst, hurtst, sixths, eighths, texts, protects, stifl'st, sparkl'st, waken'st, robb'st, amidst, width, digg'st, rav'st, writh'st, prob'dst, hundredths, begg'dst, besieg' dst, catch'dst, troubl'st, trifl'st, shov❜lst, kindl'st, struggl'st, puzzl'st, shieldst, revolv'st, help'dst, trembl'dst, trifl'dst, shov'ldst, involv'dst, twinkl'dst, fondl'dst, dazzl'dst, rattl'dst, send'st, wak'n'dst, mad DOLM d'n'dst, lighten'dst, ripen'dst, hearken'dst, doom'dst, o'erwhelm'dsts, absorbst, regard'st, curb'dst, hurl'dst, charm'dst, return'dst, starv'dst, strength'ns, strength'n'd, wrong'dst, lengthen'dst, sooth'dst, act'st, lift'st, melt'st, hurt'st, want'st, shout'st, touch'd, parch'd, help'dst, bark'dst, prompt'st, touch'dst, rattl'st. Coop up the Put the cut pumpkin in a pipkin. cook. A big mad dog bit bad Bob. Keep the tippet ticket. Kate hates tight tapes. Geese cackle, cattle low, crows caw, cocks crow. The bleak breeze blighted the bright broom blossoms. Dick dipped the tippet and dripped it. Giddy Kittie's tawdry gewgaws. The needy needlewoman needn't wheedle. Fetch the poor fellow's feather pillow. A very watery western vapor. Six thick thistle sticks. She says she shall sew a sheet. The sun shines on the shop signs. A shocking sottish set of shopmen. A short soft shot-silk sash. A silly shatter-brained chatterbox. Fetch six chaises. She thrust it through the thatch. Thrice the shrew threw the shoe. The slow snail's slime. I snuff shop snuff, do you snuff shop snuff? She sells seashells. Some shun sunshine. The sweep's suitably sooty suit. A rural ruler. Truly rural. Literally literary. Robert loudly rebuked Richard, who ran lustily roaring round the lobby. His right leg lagged in the race. Amidst the mists with angry boasts he thrusts his fists against the posts, and still insists he sees the ghosts. Around the rugged rocks the ragged rascal ran. Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. |