It is easy to note the stages in the next description. The eye of the observer follows the road along the ridge to the church, where it dwells a moment; then it continues to the house, where it stops again; then it takes in the garden with the hollyhocks and asters; and finally rests upon the orchard. It is as if the writer unrolled a map before the reader, pausing at four places in order to permit a longer look; it is like the lifting of four curtains one after another in a theatre. The reader experiences the pleasure of an observer before whom a fog is rolling away, revealing at each stage, as the fog recedes, some new and interesting sight on which his eye may rest.

The setting for Miss Dunn's house.

The front door opens into the garden.

The garden leads to the orchard.

Details of the orchard.

The main road of the town traversed a long ridge from end to end; the old church stood at the very top, blown by all the winds of heaven, like a ship on the high seas, and on the southern slope, close at the roadside, was Miss Dunn's house.

The front of it faced the south, and the front door opened into a prim little garden, where some sheltered hollyhocks and china asters still lingered; beyond was an orchard, where many of the old trees had died or been blown down, and had been replaced by young ones. The leaves were falling fast now, but nothing held on better than the apple and lilac leaves, and these were growing browner, and rustling louder when the wind blew, day by day.

-SARAH ORNE JEWETT: A New Parish

ianer.

In the following, likewise, the order is from the near

to the remote.

The approach.
The driveway.
The house.

The orchard.
Stubble fields.
The river.

69.

Half a mile through the cool forest, the black dirt of the driveway flying from Vixen's hoofs, and there was the Colfax house on the edge of the gentle slope, and beyond it the orchard, and the blue grapes and fields of yellow stubble. The silver smoke of a steamboat hung in wisps above the water. CHURCHILL: The Crisis, p. 65.

Assignment in Sequence and Grouping.

In the following a large number of details are presented. On first reading there seems to be no designed order, yet at the end a whole series of clear pictures is impressed on the mind of the reader. Supply the summary in the margin so as to show the grouping of details.

There is nothing that burns so resolutely as a hayrick; nothing that catches fire so easily. Children are playing with matches; one holds the ignited match till it scorches the fingers, and then drops it. The expiring flame touches three blades of dry grass, of hay fallen from the rick, these flare immediately; the flame runs along like a train of gunpowder, rushes up the side of the rick, singeing it as a horse's coat is singed, takes the straw of the thatch which blackens into a hole, cuts its way through, the draught lifts it up the slope of the thatch, and in five minutes the rick is on fire irrecoverably.

Unless beaten out at the first start, it is certain to go on. A spark from a pipe, dropped from the mouth of a sleeping man, will do it. Once well alight, and the engines may come at full speed, one five miles, one eight, two ten; they may pump the pond dry, and lay hose to the distant brook it is in vain. The spread of the

flames may be arrested, but not all the water that can be thrown will put out the rick. The outside of the rick where the water strikes it turns black, and dense smoke arises, but the inside core continues to burn till the last piece is charred. All that can be done is to hastily cut away that side of the rick-if any remains - yet untouched, and carry it bodily away. A hayrick will burn for hours, one huge mass of concentrated, glowing, solid fire, not much flame, but glowing coals, so that the farmer may fully understand, may watch and study and fully comprehend the extent of his loss. It burns itself from a square to a dome, and the red dome grows gradually smaller till its lowest layer of ashes strews the ground. It burns itself as it were in blocks the rick was really homogeneous; it looks while aglow as if it had been constructed of large bricks or blocks of hay. These now blackened blocks dry and crumble one by one till the dome sinks. Under foot the earth is heated, so intense is the fire; no one can approach, even on the windward side, within a pole's length.

A widening stream of dense white smoke. flows away upwards, flecked with great sparks, blackening the elms, and carrying flakes of burning hay over outhouses, sheds, and farmsteads. Thus, from the clouds, as it seems, drops further destruction. Nothing in the line of the wind is safe. Fine impalpable ashes drift and fall like rain half a mile away. Sometimes they remain suspended in the air for hours, and come down presently when the fire is out, like volcanic dust drifting from the crater. This dust lies soft and silky on the hand. By the burning rick, the air rushing to the furnace roars aloud, coming so swiftly as to be cold; on one side intense heat, on the other cold wind. The pump, pump, swing, swing of the manual engines; the quick, short pant of the steam fire-engine; the stream and hiss of the water; shouts and answers; gleaming brass helmets; frightened birds, crowds of white faces, whose frames are in shadow; a red glow on the black, wet mud of the empty pond; rosy light on the walls of the homestead, crossed with vast magnified shadows; windows glistening; men dragging sail-like tarpaulins and rick cloths to cover the sheds; constables upright and quiet, but watchful, standing at intervals to keep order; if by day, the strangest mixture of perfect calm and heated anxiety, the smoke bluish, the floating flakes visible as black specks, the flames tawny, pigeons fluttering round,

70.

cows grazing in idol-like indifference to hu-
man fears. Ultimately, rows of flattened
and roughly circular layers of blackened
ashes whose traces remain for months.
- JEFFERIES: The Field-Play.

Miscellaneous Assignments.

A. Write from actual observation a description on one of the following topics, or on another of similar character chosen by yourself: (1) the river before six o'clock in the morning, (2) the lake at night, (3) by the seaside on a rainy day, (4) football practice at dusk, (5) the approach of fall in the park, (6) a blast-furnace at night.

B. Are things placed in the following description so that you can make a mental picture? Try a rough drawing or diagram to indicate the relative position of the things mentioned. Where is the describer standing?

Far, far below him, down the wooden steep, shot the crystal Meramec, chafing over the shallow gravel beds and tearing headlong at the deep passes. Beyond, the dimpled green hills rose and fell, and the stream ran indigo and silver. A hawk soared over the water, -the only living creature in all that wilderness.

C. Read Cowper's poem, John Gilpin's Ride, and compare with Stothard's picture (Figure 3). What moment of the ride does the picture represent? From imagination, describe the looks on the faces of John Gilpin's wife and children.

D. Try to convey briefly in writing to another your feelings at some critical moment. a time of great danger, terror, joy, a moment when you received momentous news.

E. Look at the picture of a landscape. Describe the part of the landscape not visible in the picture—as you know it must be or ought to be.