avoiding stiffness in bearing, and also levity, haughtiness, or superciliousness in look. (138.) Pause a moderate length, and take a quiet and respectful survey of your auditory before beginning. (139.) Avoid sidelong attitudes. (140.) Let the body rest on the left foot drawn back. (141.) Be easy, but avoid every tendency to sway to and fro. (142.) Fix the eyes gently and moderately on your audience seated at the furthest end of the hall, and regulate your tone (and, if possible, your ideas) as if speaking to one individual. Speaking, as it were, to the mass serves only to distract the speaker's thoughts. (143.) Avoid angularity. (144.) All motion must proceed from the shoulder, and every action must be changed on the principle of a curve. (145.) Let the arms be loose, the elbows inclining outwards in a state of repose, the wrist pliant, the hand and fingers gracefully bent, the middle finger lightly pressing the index or first finger, the other two gently inclining towards the palm. (146.) Strength of emotion will generally suggest the required posture. (147.) Use the left hand occasionally for variety; both hands when addressing or alluding to large assemblies. (148.) To give force, the action should precede the word and the expression should prepare for the gesture. (149.) Let the action also be sustained, changing it only withi change of subject. (150.) In conclusion, I would simply state that all theory with respect as to when and where the hands should be raised, dropped, extended, &c., is worse than useless. The gesture that may suit me in certain situations is no more likely to fit you than my garments Each orator has his own individuality, and, providing he has acquired by practice grace of action, his own feeling will be the most reliable prompter. The speaker should, however, bear in mind that redundancy of movement weakens force of utterance, and that one expressive look is better than a volume of action. are. (151.) Note.-No advance can possibly be made in gesture without committing the words to memory, and all attempts at an effective delivery are useless unless the reciter feels what he utters. SELECTIONS ARRANGED FOR PROGRESSIVE READING AND RECITING. (152.) NELLIE'S PRAYER. By the kind permission of the Editor of the Keferee, and Mr. G R. Sims. G. R. Sims, b. 1845, a dramatist and poet, contributor to The Theatre and The Referee under the nom de plume of "Dagonet." His dramas are now amongst the most popular of the present day. They show admirable construction, strong effects, and clear and incisive dialogue. It's a month to-day since they brought me The news of my darling's death; I knew what it meant when the neighbours And one good motherly creature, Stooped down, with her eyelids streaming, It was there in the evening paper, And the enemy, beaten, fled. Then they counted the dead and wounded, I couldn't believe the story- I had thought of him night and morning; It all came back like a vision; I could hear the band as it played When the regiment marched to the station, We walked by his side that morning, And Nellie was quite elate With the band and the crowd and the cheering My Nellie was only eight. She never thought of the danger; He had tried to make her gay, He held her up at the station, Lifted her up to kiss, And then, with her arms flung round him. Said to her, softly, this: "Nellie, my pet, at bed-time, When you kneel at your mother's knee To pray to the God who loves us, Say a wee prayer for me. "I shall think of you in the twilight, God loves the little children, And answers their prayers, they say: I'm sure that you'll come back safely, I'll ask in my prayers that you may." It's only a month since they started. We thought when the regiment went That long ere the troops were landed And looked on the bright side first, I was left alone with my sorrow— Where the evening shadows deepened I had heard the words they uttered, I sat like a sleeper doubting If she dreams or is wide awake, Till the truth came on me fiercely, And I thought that my heart would break. As I sat in the deepening gloaming The child came back again, And I picked her up and kissed her "Why are you crying, mammy?" "It's nothing, Nellie," I whispered; She prayed to the Lord to bring him, Back from the far-off country I hadn't the heart to tell her, Just as she promised her father And my heart was stabbed to bleeding So a weary month went over, She heard what I said; then, sobbing, She prayed in her childish fashion, But her words were choked with tears--- I had told her it wasn't always God the prayer of the children hears. She prayed that her absent father And, ere ever her prayer was finished, And my darling rushed towards me— I gave one cry and I fainted, And Nell ran down at the cry: "They said God wouldn't hear me," She told him by and by. When the shock of surprise was over And the news to the wrong wife sent. There were two of his name in the regiment, The other was killed, and when |