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There's the bell! the birds and beasts
Now are going to be fed ;
So, my little darlings, come,
It's time for you to be abed.
"Mother, 'tisn't nine o'clock !
You said we needn't go before;
Let us stay a little while-

Want to see the monkeys more!"

Cries the showman, "Turn 'em out!
Dim the lights !-there, that will do ;
Come again to-morrow, boys;

Bring your little sisters too."

Exit mother, half distraught,
Exit father, muttering "Bore!"
Exit children, blubbering still,

"Want to see the monkeys more!'

""

Or, take the following colloquial narrative in rhyme, as it offers a study for rapidly varying tone, manner, and expression. Care must be taken to modulate the voice, so as to make each day appear to be speaking for itself. A good caricaturist would be able, with this piece, to create a "mimic stage" scene, with his several days for characters.

THE DAYS' DISPUTE: A FABLE.

By C. P. CRANCH.

Once on a time the Days of the Week
Quarrelled, and made bad weather;
The question was, which of them all was best;
So they all disputed together.

And Monday said, "I wash the clothes ;"
And Tuesday said, "I dry 'em;"
And Wednesday said, "I iron the shirts;"
And Thursday said, "I try 'em."

Said Friday, "I'm the day for fish ;"
Said Saturday, "Children love me;"
"I'm the Sabbath-Day;
I'm sure there's none above me."

And Sunday said,

One declared he was made for prayer,

Another for keeping treasure.

Some of them said, "We are best for work;'
And some, "We are best for pleasure."

Now, as they quarrelled, their tempers rose,
And all of 'em screamed together;

They blew and rained, and hailed and snowed-
There never was seen such weather.

Old Father Time was passing along,
And heard the hurly-burly!

Said he, "Here's something going wrong-
It's well I got up so early.

"These children of mine have lost their wits,
Or are trying to box the compass.
Who ever heard such a Babel clack?
Hallo, there! stop your rumpus!

"You, Sunday, sir, with your starched cravat,
Black gown, and church-veneering,
Tell me the cause of this angry spat-
Speak plain-I'm hard of hearing!

"You are the loudest speaker here-
The wisest, too, you should be;
I little thought such a mighty fuss
As you are making could be."

Then Sunday said, "Good Father Time,
The matter's as plain as noon-day;
For eighteen hundred years and more
The Lord's Day has been Sunday.

"The church

"Here Monday blurted out, "The folks are glad when you leave 'em ; They all want me, to go on with their work, And the pleasure of which you bereave 'em."

But Tuesday said, "I finish your work,
And do it as fine as a fiddle;

And Wednesday said, "I'm the best of the days,
Because I stand in the middle."

And Thursday, Friday, Saturday, all
Said something I can't remember;
And so they might have argued the case
From New-Year to December.

But Father Time he cut them short:
"My children, why this bother?
Your natural gifts are all the same-
One day's just like another.

"To God's great eye all shine alike,
As in your primal beauty;

That day is best whose deeds are best,
That worst that fails in duty.

"Where Justice lights each passing hour,
Where Love is wise and tender,

There shines the radiance of the skies,
There glows a day of splendour."

POETICAL ELOCUTION.

Finally, we think it will be seen from the following selec tions how varied must be the voice in its tone and emphasis, as well as the movements of the body, if such marked contrasts in the character of the words are to be delivered with accuracy and effect. And mind, such examples are to be met with in all directions among the productions of our Poets. Sometimes you will find that an entire poem will have running all through it the same strain; but in others you will notice that they vary with the development of the subject. Some will begin full of joy, and then pass on and end in sadness. Others will open in

a tranquil spirit, and then change to the vigorous and, perhaps, impetuous mood. Indeed, you will find that it is im possible to place any limit to the character of these changes. If, therefore, the beauty of the words, or the proper meaning of the author is to be conveyed, every change in the style must be carefully studied, or the meaning of the words will be misunderstood, or perhaps misrepresented, and thus the author's intention entirely destroyed.

Let us proceed to illustrate this by the following examples, to which the reader is recommended to give special attention

Pathos.

We watched her breathing through the night,

Her breathing soft and low,

As in her breast the wave of life

Kept heaving to and fro,

Awe and Amazement.

Now o'er the one-half world

Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep; now witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings, and withered Murder,
Alarmed by his sentinel, the wolf,

Whose howl's his watch, thus, with his stealthy pace,
Towards his design moves like a ghost.

Solemnity.

When all Thy mercies, O my God,
My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise.

Anger and Defiance.

And if thou said'st I am not peer
To any lord in Scotland here,
Lowland or Highland, far or near,
Lord Angus, thou hast lied.

Scorn.

I loathe you with my bosom ;
I scorn you with mine eye;
I'll taunt you with my latest breath,
And fight you till I die.

Courage.

Stand! the ground's your own, my braves;

Will ye give it up to slaves?

Will ye look for greener graves?

Hope ye mercy still?

What's the mercy despots feel?

Hear it in that battle peal!

Read it on yon bristling steel!
Ask it, ye who will.

Horror.

Methought I heard a voice cry, "Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep: " the innocent sleep : Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast.

G

Hate and Malice.

I'll have my bond; I will not hear thee speak :
I'll have my bond; and therefore speak no more.
I'll not be made a soft, dull-eyed fool,

To shake the head, relent, sigh, and yield
To Christian intercessors. Follow not;

I'll have no speaking; I will have my bond.

Stillness.

Leave me! Thy footstep with the slightest sound,
The very shadow of thy waving hair,
Wakes in my soul a feeling too profound,

Too strong, for aught that lives and dies to bear.
O bid the conflict cease!

Grandeur and Sublimity.

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form
Glasses itself in tempests; in all time—
Calm or convulsed, in breeze, or gale, or storm,
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime,

Dark, heaving, boundless, endless, and sublime,
The image of Eternity-the throne

Of the Invisible ! even from out thy slime
The monsters of the deep are made; each zone
Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.

Joy.

I come, I come! ye have called me long;

I come o'er the mountains with light and song;
Ye may trace my step o'er the wak'ning earth
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves opening as I-pass.
Gaiety.

O, young Lochinvar is come out of the West!
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best;
And save his good broadsword he weapon had none;
He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone;

So faithful in love, so dauntless in war,

There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. ▾

Feebleness.

"Mother, the angels they do smile, and beckon 'Little Jim.' I have no pain, dear mother, now; but, O, I am so dry! Just moisten poor Jim's lips again; and. mother, don't ye cry."

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