(57)

The Caterpillar, my dear little boy, (58) Is an emblem of life and a vision of joy!

(59) It bursts from its shell on a bright green leaf,

(60) It knows no care and it feels no grief."

(61) Then he turned to the Rector and whispered low,

(62) "Mr. Rector, how many? You surely must know."

(63) But the Rector gravely shook his head,

(64) He hadn't the faintest idea, he said. (65) So the Bishop turned to the class again,

(66) And in tones paternal took up the strain:

(67) "The Caterpillar, dear children, see, (68) On its bright green leaf from care lives free,

(69) And it eats, and eats, and grows bigger and bigger,

(70) (Perhaps the Curates can state the figure?)"

(71) But the Curates couldn't; the Bishop went on,

(72) Though he felt that another chance was gone.

(73) "So it eats, and eats, and it grows and grows,

(74) (Just ask the Schoolmaster if he knows)."

(75) But the Schoolmaster said that that kind of knowledge

(76) Was not the sort he had learned at college.

(77) "And when it has eaten enough, then

soon

(78) It spins for itself a soft cocoon, (79) And then it becomes a chrysalis(80) I wonder which child can spell me this?

(81) 'Tis rather a difficult word to spell(82) (Just ask the Schoolmistress if she can tell)."

(83) But the Schoolmistress said, as she shook her gray curls,

(84) "She considered such things were not proper for girls."

(85) The word was spelled, and spelled quite right,

(86) Those nice little boys were so awfully bright!

(87) And the Bishop began to get into a fright,

(88) His face grew red-it was formerly white

(89) And the hair on his head stood nearly upright;

(90) He was almost inclined to take refuge in flight,

(91) But he thought that would be too shocking a sight;

(92) He was at his wits' end—nearly—not quite,

(93) For the Pupil Teachers caught his eye.

(94) He thought they might know-at least he would try

(95) Then he anxiously waited for their reply;

(96) But the Pupil Teachers enjoyed the fun,

(97) And they wouldn't have told if they could have done.

(119) Your utmost efforts would surely fail

(120) To distinguish the creature's head from its tail.

(121) "But one morning in spring, (122) When the birds loudly sing,

(123) And the earth is gay with blossoming;

(124) When the violets blue

(125) Are wet with dew,

(126) And the sky wears the sweetest cerulean hue!

(127) When on all is seen
(128) The brightest sheen-

(129) When the daisies are white, and the grass is green;

(130) Then the chrysalis breaks,
(131) The insect awakes,-

(132) To the realms of air its way it takes; (133) It did not die,

(134) It soars on high,

(135) A bright and a beauteous butterfly!”

(136) Here he paused and wiped a tear from his eye;

(137) The Beadle was quietly standing by,

(138) And perceiving the lecture had reached its close,

(139) Whispered, softly and sadly, "Nobody knows!"

(140) The Bishop saw his last hope was

vain,

(141) But to make the best of it he was fain;

(142) So he added, "Dear children, we ever should be

(143) Prepared to learn from all we see, (144) And beautiful thoughts of hope and joy

(145) Fill the heart, I know, of each girl and boy!

(146) Oh, ponder on these, and you will

not care

(147) To know the exact allotted share (148) Of legs the creature possessed at

its birth,

(149) When it crawled, a mean worm, on this lowly earth.

(150) Yet, if you know it, you now may tell,

(151) Your answers so far have pleased me well."

(152) Then he looked around with benignant eye,

(153) Nor long did he wait for the reply, (154) For the bright little boy, with a countenance gay,

(155) Said, “Six, for I counted 'em yesterday!"

LESSON TALK.

(1) Impersonate "the Bishop." He is large, complacent, self-satisfied. He folds his hands over his stomach, touching the tips of the fingers together lightly; his head and chest are erect, and the weight of his body inclines to settle on his heels. His voice is round and full. He smiles slightly and benignly.

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(2) Indicate "the Rector,"-a mildmannered little gentleman-by a gesture to the right.

(3) Impersonate "the Doctor," a merry middle-aged man with a twinkle in his eye. "The Squire," a jolly, hearty, gruff country gentleman.

(4) Proud of their importance.

(5) A general comprehensive gesture with both arms.

(6) Speak directly to the audience. (7) Explanatory.

(8) Brightly; with animation. (9) Praise them.

(10) More praise.

(II) Clasp hands and speak patronizingly. Beam down upon the children.

(12) Confidentially.

(13) Impersonate the Bishop. The introduction of "Ah!" at the beginning of the line is effective. Whenever the Bishop speaks he uses the broad English accent. (14) Slow, grand gesture.

(15) Impersonate a child; tremble slightly and look very scared.

(16) Advance to front of stage. (17) Gesture; slowly open imaginary book.

(18) and (19) Look around solemnly from left to right.

(20) Impressively. Raise right hand and emphasize with first finger.

(21) More impressively and with an accent of wonder.

(22) and (23) With admiration. (24) "Secular" is the important word. (25), (26) and (27) Explanatory. (28) Pause after dears; beam; rub hands together; go on in a patronizing tone. (29) The same.

(30) Cough slightly; incline body for

(41) Raise hand and whisper behind it. (42) Step forward and speak in a bright, clear tone.

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(43) Condescending" is the important word.

(44), (45), (46), (47) and (48) Work to a climax. Fire the question at the Bishop as though it were shot out of a gun. Speak in a high, shrill voice, and very clearly. Put intense eagerness into the question; do not ask it in a saucy way, but rather as though you wished to obtain information.

(49) There is a long pause between lines 48 and 49. In it express utter amazement and dense ignorance. Gradually gather yourself together, and, beginning slowly, speak hesitatingly.

(50) An aside to the audience.

(51) and (52) Suggest " he knew nothing whatever about it."

(53) and (54) Mournfully.
(55) Straighten up.
(56) Calmly.

(57), (58), (59) and (60) From now on, there must be no apparent break in the Bishop's discourse. He must use a preaching tone, and the more fervor and eloquence thrown into his remarks, the funnier they will be. Gesture frequently; large spreading gestures; and be intensely earnest and calm when addressing the children, but very much perturbed when making the side remarks.

(61) and (62) Maintain a quiet poise and look down, but speak anxiously.

(63) and (64) Impersonate the Rector. Pronounce the word "idea" as though it were spelled "i-dee-ah."

(65) and (66) Explanatory.

(67) and (68) Motion as though showing a leaf with a caterpillar crawling on it.

(69) Long pauses, in which the Bishop is evidently racking his brain for something to say. Adopt a forced smile here.

(70) Turn from the audience with a little gesture of apology, and with a motion of the head say this to the right side in a whisper. (71) and (72) Explanatory.

(73) Same as 69.

(74) Same as 70.

(75) and (76) With keen enjoyment of

the situation.

(77) With a sort of gasp of relief.
(78) and (79) Go on smoothly.
(80) A flash of inspiration.

(81) Brighten up considerably; linger over the word "difficult," and end with a suggestion that a great deal of time would now be consumed.

(82) Quite pleasantly.

(83) and (84) Impersonate. Shake the head stiffly; close lips tightly; fold hands primly on chest.

(85) and (86) Mournfully.

(87) and (88) Get excited. Speak more quickly.

(89) Run hands through hair.

(90) Look from side to side distractedly. (91) Draw a long breath and calm down. (92) Utterly dejected.

(93) With the air of "Now, at last."

(136) Sadly.

(137)-(139) “Softly and sadly." (140)-(149) The Bishop is his serene self again.

(150)-(151) Condescendingly, but with a new tone of respect and interest.

(152) and (153) Explanatory. (154) and (155) Raise hand and speak gaily, impetuously and emphatically.

[The strongly humorous points of the selection are the impersonations and the contrast between the churchly manner of the Bishop and the absurd subject upon which he is speaking.]

Er-se "-Oh, shoo fly,-I never can learn such gibberish!

Ich

"Ich haba- Ich - Ich "- Christopher Columbus, how it does twist my tongue, but I must learn it- of course I must learn it-if it puts every muscle in my face out of joint. "Du hast gahabt." Jehosaphat, I believe I've got the lockjaw now. haba, Ich haba, Ich haba "-when I learn to speak_this_beloved language fluently, I am going to Europe, to visit Germany, to sit beside the Emperor like Consuela did, and to charm him with my "Ich haba gahabt." I shall be able by that time to pronounce it very much better than I do now. Dear me, I am beginning to think that I am getting on very slowly-quite discouraged at times -looks as if there was no Dutch in me.

"Du hast gahabt-Du has-Du "-Oh, the poor old Professor, how he does scowl and how earnestly he will say, "Oh, my dear mees, you nefar study much, I fears you should apply your mind-you me so fery much worried."-Worried! ried? I'd like to know what about me? you old goose-"Ich haba gahabt," not much, old fellow, I no love you-but I really do believe-to give him his dues

wor

he does try his level best to bang the stuff into my head. Ha! ha! ha! He fairly shivers with a chill at my blunders-ha! ha! ha!-I really believe that I will be the microbe that will develop nervous prostration in his anatomy-ha! ha! ha ha! It is too absolutely funny to see him start and stretch out that long bony hand, with his waving head keeping time with his spreading "diggits diggits "-and an awful agonizing look on his face as he listens to my

Ich haba gahabt, gahabt, gahabt-Du, Du -es es gahabt, gahabt-Du hast gahabtHa ha! It's enough to make a monkey laugh. He is ready to expire with disgust, but he don't. He simply gulps down his wrath, pockets his profane ammunition, and will say quite amiably, with a prophetic shake of his head: "Oh, vell, vell, you vill some time learn."

But this isn't trying to learn some time"Ich haba gahabt-Du hast gahabt "—yes, I think everybody has loved some time in their lives-now I do wonder if that old Prof. ever felt the sting of Cupid's dartha! ha!" Ich, Ich "-ha! ha! I've just thought of a bright idea-a startling announcement. I'll just marry the old Prof.'

and that will end all further bother and worriment, for he can furnish Dutch enough for the family-I'll have to do all the courting-" Ich haba "-he wouldn't know how, ha ha! ha! wouldn't he think that a whole Fourth of July had exploded at his feet, if I was to say-well-I hardly know just how I should pop the question. I would have to wait for the occasion to give me the inspiration.

But I must get my lesson without any more shilly-shallying-" Ich, Ich "-oh, this old grammar is the plague of my life. I think I'll give up modern classics, but what Icould I do with Greek? No, I must stick to this:

THE TRIAL OF REBECCA.

BY SIR WALTER SCOTT.

[In "Werner's Readings and Recitations," No. 19.]

HERE need be no

TH

"

complaint in schools and colleges as to the impossibility of obtaining good classic selections so long as recitations can be arranged from the books of the "Wizard of the North." The "Trial of Rebecca,' from "Ivanhoe," is intensely dramatic, and at the same time it is fine English. No boy or girl could fail to be interested and educated by learning it. It brings out clearly the fact that "ever the right comes uppermost and ever is justice done."

The description of the scene should be made very definite. The teacher should give the pupil a general knowledge of tournaments and combats of this period, and the pupil should read the whole of "Ivanhoe in order to get the best insight into the characters.

The

In giving the challenge, work to obtain a full, round, clear tone, which will ring out over the imaginary field. Rebecca should be dignified and composed, but impassioned. Impart to her speeches an earnestness of purpose and surety of rectitude. Suggest her beauty and her love for Ivanhoe. voice of the Templar should be hoarse, strained, and unnatural. Suggest that his eyes glitter feverishly, and his hands tremble. Ivanhoe will speak in a fatigued voice, but with conscious pride. The climax is reached in the words, "Slay him not, Sir Knight!"

HAGAR.

BY ELIZA POITEVENT NICHOLSON.

[In "Werner's Readings and Recitations," No. 16.]

HO has not been touched by her story? Who has not wondered

WHO

as to the thoughts that surged in the heart and brain of this rejected woman? Mrs. Nicholson has written a monologue for a woman full of yearning love and hatred. It could be costumed, and without doubt a costume would add to its popularity with the average audience, but it seems almost a pity to weave scenic effects about it. It already throbs and thrills with Oriental pain and beauty. The swift transitions from bitter, biting scorn to tender pleadings, from eagerness to despair, from jealousy to pride render this an almost impossible piece for one who is not a finished artist, but such an artist could make of it something as touching as any modern realistic play. The story of Hagar is as new to-day as it was in the days of Abraham. The heart of humanity never changes. One can see her inspired, glowing with the maternal love which is now stronger than her love for Abraham, as she ends,

THIS

ANALYSIS OF THE POEM.

HIS poem is the work of the American poet, N. P. Willis. In selecting his theme, a Scriptural incident, the author has selected that period of Jewish history which is signalized by the rebellion against King David, incited by his son Absalom. In elegant verse the poet represents the grief of David over this gifted

quietly gave way And leaned in graceful attitudes to rest."

Could words better portray the peace and quiet of the night? This pacific picture was not painted idly, but as a contrast to the "vexed eddies of the human heart," to be disclosed as the poem proceeds. The closing words of this division,

"How strikingly the course of nature tells By its light heed of human suffering That it was fashioned for a happier world." suggest this dark picture of grief and crime.

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In the second part night has given place to early morn, and King David, wearied by his flight from far Jerusalem," pauses "with his faint people for a little rest upon the shores of Jordan." The mourner's covering mentioned in the lines following the above quotation, must have reference to the penitential garb in which the King left Jerusalem. From Second Kings we learn that, having been informed of the conspiracy, "David went up by the ascent of Mount Olives, and wept as he went up, and had his head covered, and he went up barefoot." That he was possessed by this penitential spirit during his flight is shown in his reply to his nephew, who desired to slay a descendant of Saul for cursing David as they neared the city of Bahurim: "Let him alone and let him curse, for the Lord hath bid him curse David,

and who is he shall dare say why hath he done so?'' That this covering could have reference to mourning worn for Absalom is scarcely possible, as the battle between Juda and Israel, the names under which the followers of the King and Absalom were known, had not been fought, the forces not having reached the scene of conflict.

The people, encouraged by the removal of the mourner's covering, gather round and speak "kindly words.' Then follows the King's prayer, through which the poet would reveal the depth and generosity of David's soul. He prayed for Israel, followers of Absalom; he prayed for those who had remained faithful to him, "whose love had been his shield; " but his great heart is poured out in his prayer for Absalom:

"And forgave him there Before his God for his deep sinfulness."

In part third the poet frees himself from the trammels of history and paints the scene to suit his fancy. He leads us to the bier of Absalom and would show us what remains of all that made the pride and joy of life to this bright being. He first draws our attention to that peerless beauty, the record of which comes down to us through the sacred Book: "And in all Judea there was not a man so comely and exceedingly beautiful as Absalom."

"As the folds

Sank to the still proportions they betrayed The matchless symmetry of Absalom."

Next the poet hints at the valor that supported him in the minds of those whom he had "enticed" from allegiance to the King. "His helm was at his feet; his banner, soiled

With trailing through Jerusalem, was laid

Reversed beside him; and the jeweled hilt,

Whose diamonds lit the passage of his blade,

Rested like a mockery upon his covered brow,

Joab and his soldiers guard the slumberer,"

and David's entrance, followed by the withdrawal of the soldiers, closes this division.

The fourth and last division represents David buried in deep grief over the bier, and closes with that prayer which is truly

"The resistless eloquence of woe."