Mrs. Allen's career as a writer began at a very early age, with the publication of some verses. The enviable popularity to which she has attained, is due to a tenderness and grace of style, which loses none of its charm even in the treatment of homely subjects. Elocution. What is the feeling or sentiment expressed in this poem ? With what tone of voice should it be read? What time and force should be used? The articulation should be clear and crisp. Point out three or four cases in the poem where certain words receive emphasis through repetition. Show the changes in inflection due to contrasts in the fourth stanza. Language.-Explain the meaning of the following "The untried borders of life's mysterious land." "The mother's eyes are shrouded away from sight of men." Composition.-Make each stanza the basis of a paragraph, and treat the subject in prose form. Notice the changes that must be made in turning the poetry into prose:-(1.) In the words used. (2.) The arrangement of words in the sentences. 4.-MALIBRAN AND THE YOUNG MUSICIAN. publish er, one who sends a book or writing into the world. erown, a piece of money, in value a little more than $1.20. lux'u ry (luk' shu rỹ), anything delightful to the senses. riv'et ed, fixed. myr'i ad, a very great number. pounds, English money; each tǎl'ent ed, possessing great skill In a humble room, in one of the poorest streets of London, little Pierre, a fatherless French boy, sat humming by the bedside of his sick mother. There was no bread in the closet, and for the whole day he had not tasted food. Yet he sat humming to keep up his spirits. Still, at times, he thought of his loneliness and hunger, and he could scarcely keep the tears from his eyes; for he knew nothing would be so grateful to his poor, sick mother as a good, sweet orange-and yet he had not a penny in the world. The little song he was singing was his own,one he had composed with air and words; for the child was a genius. He went to the window, and looking out, saw a man putting up a great bill with yellow letters, announcing that Madame Malibran would sing that night in public. "If I could only go," thought little Pierre; and then, pausing a moment, he clasped his hands. His eyes lighted with a new hope. Running to the little stand, he smoothed down his yellow curls, and taking from a little box some old stained paper, gave one eager glance at his mother, who slept, and ran speedily from the house. "Who did you say is waiting for me?" said the lady to her servant. "I am already worn out with company.” 66 It is only a very pretty little boy with yellow curls, who says if he can see you he is sure you will not be sorry, and he will not keep you a moment." "Well, let him come," said the beautiful singer, with a smile; "I can never refuse children." Little Pierre came in, his hat under his arm, and in his hand a little roll of paper. With manliness unusual for a child, he walked straight to the lady, and bowing, said: "I come to see you because my mother is very sick, and we are too poor to get food and medicine. I thought that if you would only sing my little song at some of your grand concerts, perhaps some publisher would buy it for a small sum, and so I could get food and medicine for my mother." The beautiful woman rose from her seat,- very tall and stately she was,-took the little roll from his hand, and lightly hummed the air. "Did you compose it?" she asked,-"you, a child? And the words?-Would you like to come to my concert?" she asked, after a few moments of thought. "O yes!" and the boy's eyes grew bright with happiness,-"but I couldn't leave my mother.” "I will send somebody to take care of your mother for the evening; and here is a crown, with which you may go and get food and medicine. Here is also one of my tickets; come to-night; that will admit you to a seat near me.” Pierre could scarcely realize his good fortune. He bought some oranges, and many a little luxury besides, and carried them home to the poor invalid, telling her, not without tears, of what had happened. When evening came, and Pierre was admitted to the concert hall, he felt that never in his life had he been in so grand a place. The music, the myriad lights, the beauty, the flashing of diamonds and rustling of silks, bewildered his eyes and brain. At last she came, and the child sat with his eyes riveted upon her glorious face. Could he believe that the grand lady, all blazing with jewels, and whom everybody seemed to worship, would really sing his little song? Breathless he waited. The band-the whole band, struck up a little plaintive melody; he knew it, and clapped his hands for joy. And, O, how she sung it! It was so simple, so mournful, so soulsubduing-many a bright eye dimmed with tears; and naught could be heard but the touching words of that little song-O, so touching! Pierre walked home as if he were walking on the air. What cared he for money now? The greatest singer in all Europe had sung his little song, and thousands had wept at his grief. The next day, he was frightened at a visit from Madame Malibran. She laid her hand on his yellow curls, and turning to the sick woman, said: "Your little boy, madam, has brought you a fortune. I was offered, this morning, by the best publisher in London, three hundred pounds for his little song; and after he has realized а certain amount from the sale, little Pierre, here, is to share the profits. Madam, thank God that your son has a gift from Heaven." The noble-hearted singer and the poor woman wept together. As to Pierre-always mindful of Him who watches over the tried and tempted-he knelt down by his mother's bedside and uttered a simple but eloquent prayer, asking God's blessing on the kind lady who had deigned to notice their affliction. The memory of that prayer made the singer even more tender-hearted; and she who was the idol of England's nobility went about doing good. And in her early, happy death, he who stood by her bed, smoothed her pillow, and lightened her last moments by his undying affection, was the little Pierre of former days,-now rich, accomplished, and the most talented composer of the day. All honor to those great hearts, who, from their high station, send down bounty to the widow, and to the fatherless child. Biography.—Madame Malibran, the celebrated vocalist, was born in Paris, in 1808. While she was still very young, her reputation as a singer extended over Europe, and she was everywhere received with the greatest enthusiasm. The admiration which she won as a vocalist, was increased by the many kind acts done by her in private life. Her generosity was remarkable, and the large sums of money which she gained were expended in works of benevolence. Her early death, in 1836, was universally deplored. Notes. Pierre is a French name, corresponding to our name Peter. The term composer is applied only to authors of musical compositions. Elocution. In what manner should the descriptive parts of the lesson be read?-the conversational? How many different persons are introduced as speakers? The words of each person should be delivered in such a manner as to express the feelings with which they were uttered. What different feelings or sentiments receive expression in the lesson? Language. In the sentence-"Thousands had wept at his grief,” if the word thousands is thought to convey a meaning greater than the truth, we say that it is an example of hy per' bo le or exaggeration. "As if walking on the air" means that the happy feelings of Pierre made him forgetful of the effort of walking. The expression is both a comparison and hyperbole. Since the meaning we give to the words used in the above comparison is different from what would usually be given to them, the words are said to be employed in a figurative sense. Figures of comparison are of two kinds: 1. Sim'ile, when an introductory word such as like, as, or similar words, is employed; 2. Met'a phor, when the introductory word is omitted. Composition.-Select four points in the story, that are of special importance, and treat them in your own language. What constitutes a paragraph in writing prose? Does conversation come under the rules for paragraphing? |