so fast that the skin on his joints wrinkled. There was thick undergrowth all about him, through which he forced his way with difficulty. The saplings and creepers which he had to push aside made the descent arduous; for so tightly did they seem to cling to him, that he was forced to open a pathway for himself with his tusks. 11. The football (cr baseball) field just before the game as it would look: (a) to an Englishman who had never seen the American game, (b) to a little boy whose older brother was taking him to the game. 12. The football (or baseball) field as it looked after the game : (a) when we won, (b) when they won. 13. Describe very briefly and very rapidly something which, though vivid, is all over in a few seconds, e.g. a collision, a sharp rally at tennis, a double play in baseball. 14. A country railway station: (a) just before the train arrived, (b) half an hour later. 15. Criticize the following passage: "Just before nine o'clock in the morning, Randall Hall presents a scene full of life. There is the loud clattering of dishes, the constant hum of voices, and the sound of many footsteps upon the cold stone floor. The scene which is before the eye is fully as lively as the noises which fall upon the ear." 16. Comment on : (a) The use of sound in Jefferies' In Front of the Royal Exchange (College Readings, p. 369). The use of sound in Norris' The Ploughing (College Readings, p. 348). (b) The use of color in Ruskin's St. Marks (College Readings, p. 383). The use of color in Hearn's Sunrise at Port-of-Spain (College Readings, p. 340). (c) The use of motion in Ruskin's Cloud Effects (College Readings, p. 342). (d) The use of weather in White's On the Wind at Night (College Readings, p. 420). The use of weather in Ruskin's Cloud Effects (College Readings, p. 342). 94. Definition. CHAPTER V NARRATION What do we mean when we say of a person that he is "a good story-teller "? We have in mind many attributes: readiness, enthusiasm, a feeling for striking details of situation or character, and a happy faculty of keeping our attention alert to the end. A skillful narrator alternately stimulates and satisfies our curiosity. It is action, events, that he is concerned with : and the same interest in our own minds is echoed in the eternal question, “What happened next?" Narration, then, is the recounting of a series of events. The essence of good narration is (1) action, and (2) the arrangement of the details of action both in the order of time and in the order of cause and effect. It is this requirement that makes narration an art. If we set down a record of the events of everyday life hour by hour, we are lost in confusion because we see no logical relation of cause and effect. The event which happens at three o'clock may follow in time that which happened at two, but there may be no causal link between them. The art of narration does not merely copy life, but it simplifies life by selecting from the mass of events the essential ones and by arranging these in the order of time and causation. But events do not happen by themselves. Events happen to people, and occur in places. Action, charac ters, and setting are the elements, then, which must be woven together to form the pattern of our narrative. Kipling's little rhyme will help us to fix these elements in mind: I keep six honest serving-men Their names are What and Why and When And How and Where and Who. SIMPLE NARRATION The most interesting way to learn the qualities of good narration is to contrast the following examples. The first selection comes from a typical dime-novel. It was all very well to talk about flying, but the question which bothered the Bradys was which way to go. They did not debate long. The whizzing arrows kept on coming. As the Yaquis are well known to be deadshots with their bows and arrows, Old King Brady felt that this was merely a warning for them to go no further. "We take the back track, Harry," he cried. They wheeled about and were just starting when they saw a dozen or more half-dressed Indians scrambling down from the cliff on ahead. "They are after our horses!" gasped Harry. "Not a doubt of it," replied Old King Brady. "If we can save ourselves, we shall do well. Dismount, Harry. We take to the rocks." They slipped from their saddles and sent the horses forward on the run. The cliff on the left was just a mass of broken rock. The situation had become very serious. The Yaquis are well known to be absolutely merciless. But it must have been as Old King Brady said. The horses were what was wanted. For some unfathomable reason the Indians did not desire to kill their riders. Peering out from behind the rocks, the Bradys saw them halt the bronchos. Three mounted and went dashing madly down the canyon. The rest scrambled back up the cliff and disappeared. The position of the detectives was now a terrible one. To be stranded in the Antunez range without horses or provisions was almost equivalent to their death warrant. For a long time they waited, but nothing more was seen or heard of the Indians. Let us turn immediately from this abominably bad narrative to Froude's account of the martyrdom of St. Thomas à Becket in Canterbury Cathedral. From the middle of the transept in which the archbishop [Thomas à Becket] was standing a single pillar rose into the roof. On the eastern side of it opened a chapel of St. Benedict, in which were the tombs of several of the old primates. On the west, running parallel to the nave, was a lady chapel. Behind the pillar, steps led up into the choir, where voices were already singing vespers. A faint light may have been reflected into the transept from the choir tapers, and candles may perhaps have been burning before the altars in the two chapels of light from without through the windows at that hour there could have been scarcely any. Seeing the knights coming on, the clergy who had entered with the archbishop closed the door and barred it. "What do you fear?" he cried in a clear, loud voice. "Out of the way, you cowards! The Church of God must not be made a fortress." He stepped back and reopened the door with his |