94

WATHCING LITTLE CHILDREN.

Or through the long vacation's reach
In lonely lowland districts teach,
Where all the droll experience found
At stranger hearths in boarding round,
The moonlit skater's keen delight,
The sleigh-drive through the frosty night,
The rustic party, with its rough
Accompaniment of blind-man's buff,
And whirling plate, and forfeits paid,
His winter task a pastime made.

Happy the snow-locked homes wherein
He tuned his merry violin,

Or played the athlete in the barn,
Or held the good dame's winding yarn,
Or mirth-provoking versions told
Of classic legends rare and old,

Wherein the scenes of Greece and Rome
Had all the commonplace of home,
And little seemed at best the odds
'Twixt Yankee peddlers and old gods;
Where Pindus-born Araxes took
The guise of any grist-mill brook,
And dread Olympus at his will
Became a whortleberry hill.

WATCHING LITTLE CHILDREN.

This should be spoken in a simple, unaffected manner, the voice slightly raised, and the tones, pure, distinct, but in no part strongly emphasized. The speaker will do well to remember that there are times when emphasis ceases to be emphatic:

Mother, watch the little feet

Climbing o'er the garden wall,
Rounding through the busy street.
Ranging cellar, shed and hall.
Never count the moments lost,
Never mind the time it costs;
Little feet will go astray;

Guide, them, mother, while you may.

Mother, watch the little hand

Picking berries by the way,

Making houses in the sand,

Tossing up the fragrant hay.

LANGUAGE.

Never dare the question ask,
"Why to me this weary task?"
These same little hands may prove
Messengers of light and love.

Mother, watch the little tongue
Prating eloquent and wild;
What is said and what is sung,
By the happy, joyous child.
Catch the word while yet unspoken,
Stop the vow before 'tis broken;
This same tongue may yet proclaim
Blessings on the Saviour's name.

Mother, watch the little heart,

Beating soft and warm for you;
Wholesome lessons now impart;

Keep, O keep that young heart true;
Culling out each noxious weed,
Sowing good and precious seed;
Harvest rich you then may see,
Ripening for eternity.

LANGUAGE.

0. W. HOLMES.

95

In this piece-(not only exceedingly humorous but highly instructive)-by carefully enunciating the words pointed out as correct and incorrect, and referring to his dictionary for their pronunciation, the student will have learned to avoid errors which frequently mar the elocution of otherwise great orators:

Some words on language may be well applied,

And take them kindly, though they touch your pride.
Words lead to things; a scale is more precise,-

Coarse speech, bad grammar, swearing, drinking, vice.
Our cold North-easter's icy fetter clips

The native freedom of the Saxon lips;

See the brown peasant of the plastic South,
How all his passions play about his mouth!
With us, the feature that transmits the soul,
A frozen, passive, palsied breathing-hole.

The crampy shackles of the ploughboy's walk
Tie the small muscles, when he strives to talk;

96

A PARENTAL ODE.

Not all the pumice of the polished town
Can smooth this roughness of the barnyard down;
Rich, honored, titled, he betrays his race

By this one mark,—he's awkward in the face ;-
Nature's rude impress, long before he knew
The sunny street that holds the sifted few.

It can't be helped, though, if we're taken young,
We gain some freedom of the lips and tongue;
But school and college often try in vain
To break the padlock of our boybood's chain ;
One stubborn word will prove this axiom true-
No late-caught rustic can enunciate view.

A few brief stanzas may be well employed
To speak of errors we can all avoid.
Learning condemns beyond the reach of hope
The careless churl that speaks of soap for soap;
Her edict exiles from her fair abode

The clownish voice that utters rôad for road;
Less stern to him who calls his coat a coat,
And steers his boat believing it a boat.

She pardoned one, our classic city's boasi,
Who said, at Cambridge, most instead of most;
But knit her brows, and stamped her angry foot,
To hear a teacher call a root a rôot.

Once more speak clearly, if you speak at all;
Carve every word before you let it fall;

Don't, like a lecturer or dramatic star,

Try over hard to roll the British R;

Do put your accents in the proper spot;

Don't,-let me beg you,-don't say "How?" for "What?"

And when you stick on conversation's burs,

Don't strew the pathway with those dreadful urs.

A PARENTAL ODE

To my Son, aged Three Ycars and Five Months.

THOMAS HOOD.

The lines not in parenthesis should be recited with a joyous, proud, exulting tone; the lines within parenthesis with a voice and manner exactly the reverse:

Thou happy, happy elf!

(But stop-first let me kiss away that tear ;)

Thou tiny image of myself!

(My love, he's poking peas into his ear!)

No. 8.-See Appendix.