CHAPTER VII

SUCCESSION OF IDEAS

The next step is but a very short one in advance of the second, and yet one of exceeding importance. It deals with the succession of ideas. Every long sentence is made up of small phrases more or less intimately connected. The inflection denotes this connection. If several phrases point forward to a thought further on, the end of each of these will be marked by a rising inflection; if any one of the phrases be of sufficient importance to demand particular emphasis, its end will be marked by the falling inflection.

As was said in Chapter II, the reading of a long sentence presents great difficulties for the child. He loses himself in the maze of words, and his mental condition is clearly shown in his melody, which drifts about here and there, like a rudderless ship. It is the purpose of this step to train him in the development of his powers of continuous thinking; to enable him to keep in mind the main idea, no matter how numerous the details. This step and that dealing with subordinate ideas have much the same object in view.

The following excerpt from the _Introduction to The Song of Hiawatha_ is a good illustration of a sentence in which the sense is suspended through many lines:

Ye, who sometimes, in your rambles Through the green lanes of the country, Where the tangled barberry-bushes Hang their tufts of crimson berries Over stone walls gray with mosses, Pause by some neglected graveyard, For a while to muse, and ponder On a half-effaced inscription, Written with little skill of song-craft, Homely phrases, but each letter Full of hope and yet of heart-break, Full of all the tender pathos Of the Here and the Hereafter;-- Stay and read this rude inscription, Read this Song of Hiawatha!

It is in sentences like the following that the pupil is likely to fail. Speaking of rain, the poet says:

How it clatters along the roofs, Like the tramp of hoofs! How it gushes and struggles out From the throat of the overflowing spout!

There may be some justification for the falling inflection on “roofs”; there can be no doubt that the same inflection would be incorrect on “out.” And yet, the very structure of the verse would be likely to cause the careless reader to read it with that very inflection. This is a typical case, and, if this point has been made clear, one that should be very helpful to the teacher. The following passage, from the same poem, affords another exercise in succession of ideas:

In the country, on every side, Where far and wide, Like a leopard’s tawny and spotted hide, Stretches the plain, To the dry grass and the drier grain How welcome is the rain!

Let us observe that the plain does not stretch to the dry grass. There will be a falling inflection on “plain,” and a rising on “grain.”

The pause has nothing to do with succession of ideas. It would make little difference how long the pause after “plain” if it were read with a rising inflection. This principle must never be lost sight of.

Pupils who should know better frequently make mistakes of the kind we have been discussing, in reading the following passage:

In the furrowed land The toilsome and patient oxen stand; Lifting the yoke-encumbered head, With their dilated nostrils spread, They silently inhale The clover-scented gale, And the vapors that arise From the well-watered and smoking soil. For this rest in the furrow after toil Their large and lustrous eyes Seem to thank the Lord, More than man’s spoken word.

* * * * *

Near at hand, From under the sheltering trees, The farmer sees His pastures, and his fields of grain. As they bend their tops To the numberless beating drops Of the incessant rain.

The following extracts from _Gulliver’s Travels_ are within the comprehension of fairly young children, and will afford good practice:

1. The empire of Blefuscu is an island situated to the northeast of Lilliput, from which it is parted only by a channel eight hundred yards wide.

2. I had not yet seen it, and, upon this notice of a intended invasion, I avoided appearing on that side of the coast, for fear of being discovered by some of the enemy’s ships, who had received no intelligence of me; all intercourse between the two empires having been strictly forbidden during the war, upon pain of death, and an embargo laid by our emperor upon all vessels whatsoever.

3. I walked toward the northeast coast, over against Blefuscu, where, lying down behind a hillock, I took out my small perspective glass and viewed the enemy’s fleet at anchor, consisting of about fifty men-of-war and a great number of transports. I then came back to my house, and gave orders (for which I had a warrant) for a great quantity of the strongest cable and bars of iron. The cable was about as thick as pack-thread, and the bars of the length and size of a knitting-needle.

4. I trebled the cable to make it stronger, and for the same reason I twisted three of the iron bars together, bending the extremities into a hook. Having thus fixed fifty hooks to as many cables, I went back to the northeast coast, and putting off my coat, shoes and stockings, walked into the sea in my leathern jerkin, about half an hour before high water. I waded with what haste I could, and swam in the middle about thirty yards, till I felt ground.

5. When I had got out of danger, I stopped awhile to pick out the arrows that stuck in my hands and face, and rubbed on some of the same ointment that was given me at my first arrival, as I have formerly mentioned. I then took off my spectacles, and, waiting about an hour, till the tide was a little fallen, I waded through the middle with my cargo, and arrived safe at the royal port of Lilliput.

6. The emperor and his whole court stood on the shore, expecting the issue of this great adventure. They saw the ships move forward in a large half-moon, but could not discern me, who was up to my breast in water. When I advanced to the middle of the channel, they were yet more in pain, because I was under water to my neck. The emperor concluded me to be drowned, and that the enemy’s fleet was approaching in a hostile manner.

7. But he was soon eased of his fears; for, the channel growing shallower every step I made, I came in a short time within hearing, and, holding up the end of the cable by which the fleet was fastened, I cried in a loud voice, “Long live the most puissant King of Lilliput!” This great prince received me at my landing with all possible encomiums, and created me a _nardac_ upon the spot, which is the highest title of honor among them.

It need hardly be noted that there are many examples of momentary completeness in the preceding passages; as, for instance:

“Lilliput,” in paragraph one.

“Ships,” in paragraph two.

“Anchor,” in paragraph three.

“Arrival,” in paragraph five.

“Me,” “pain,” in paragraph six.

“Spot,” in paragraph seven.

It will be seen that the purpose of this step is to draw the pupil’s attention to two possibilities in every sentence: Does the phrase point forward, or is it momentarily complete? Great care must be observed not to confuse him with statements regarding inflections.

Momentary completeness has been so fully discussed in a preceding chapter that it need not be dwelt upon further.

The following lesson-talk may be helpful for the teacher:

Read to yourself this little sentence: “Robert has a slate.” Is that a complete picture? You see that it is. Now read this sentence: “Robert has a slate and a pencil.” Here you note that Robert has two things, so the sentence is not complete when we come to the word “slate.” Although we have a clear picture, yet we have not the whole picture. How do we know this? In the first sentence there was a period after “slate,” but in the second sentence there was none, and because there wasn’t, we kept on reading and found there was another group of words giving us the picture of something else Robert had. Now this teaches us that if we want to read just as we speak, we must be careful to get not only one picture or two, but all the pictures in the sentence.

Let me show you how we often make mistakes in our reading because we don’t pay attention to what I have just shown you. Suppose we have this sentence: “I saw a cat, and a mouse, and a rat.” Now, some pupils are careless and they read, “I saw a cat,” just as if that were the whole sentence. Then they look a little further and see the next group, “and a mouse,” and they read that. Then they see the rest of the sentence, “and a rat,” and they read that. But we know that is not the way to read. We must first read the whole sentence silently until we get the picture in each group, and then we shall be sure to read the sentence just as one of us would speak it if he really saw the cat, the rat, and the mouse, at the same time.

Here is a very good example for you to study. Read it through slowly and carefully, and do not try to read it aloud until you see clearly the picture in each group. If you do as I ask, you will get a complete picture of the way in which the young soldier prepares to go out to battle:

But when the gray dawn stole into his tent, He rose, and clad himself, and girt his sword, And took his horseman’s cloak, and left his tent.

Can you not see the young warrior rising from his couch, dressing himself, girding on his sword, and so forth? If you can, then I am sure you will be able to make others see it as a complete picture, without breaking it up into many little pieces, just as we used to do in the first book. You see, he did not rise and stop; and then dress himself and stop; and gird his sword and stop; but one action followed the other, just as each car in a long, moving train, follows another. Each car is like a group of words, and the whole train is like the complete sentence.