Helps in Teaching Reading: By Martha S. Hussey ...D. Lothrop Company, 1891 - 126 pages |
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Common terms and phrases
ancholy arms articulation ascer ask the pupil Awày battle of Gettysburg bloody men breath bring called Celia Thaxter Charles Kingsley Charley chest firm circumflex consonant correct critical cry of battle diphthong drill emotion emphasized exercise exhale expression extracts eyes falling fault feeling flash foot forward gentleman at heart give given hands are raised Hark head hour Hurrah important words Inhale key-phrase key-word lesson lifeless lips loud manner Mendon minor inflections Miss H movement o'er ōld Phil Adams picture picture-making pitch Place practice pronounce prose pupil read quality of voice Ready Ring rising Sandpiper sàve saw a dog schools selection shoulders shout silence simple sitting position slide speaker's position standing position strong inflections sweet taught teaching thought tion Tis green tōll tone of voice tongue utterance vowel sounds wailing winds whisper wind Words of command younger pupils
Popular passages
Page 90 - The mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel, And the former called the latter 'Little Prig; Bun replied, 'You are doubtless very big; But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in together, To make up a year And a sphere. And I think it no disgrace To occupy my place. If I'm not so large as you, You are not so small as I, And not half so spry. I'll not deny you make A very pretty squirrel track; Talents differ; all is well and wisely put; If I cannot carry forests on my back, Neither can you...
Page 112 - This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream: — There spread a cloud of dust along a plain; And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords Shocked upon swords and shields. A prince's banner Wavered, then staggered backward, hemmed by foes. A craven hung along the battle's edge, And thought, "Had I a sword of keener steel — That blue blade that the king's son bears, — but this Blunt thing — !" he snapt and flung it from his hand, And lowering crept away and...
Page 38 - The melancholy days are come, The saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, And meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, The autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust, And to the rabbit's tread. The robin and the wren are flown, And from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow, Through all the gloomy day.
Page 91 - True worth is in being, not seeming; In doing each day that goes by. Some little good — not in dreaming Of great things to do by and by. For whatever men say in their blindness. And spite of the fancies of youth. There's nothing so kingly as kindness. And nothing so royal as truth.
Page 73 - How beautiful is the rain ! After the dust and heat, In the broad and fiery street, In the narrow lane, How beautiful is the rain ! How it clatters along the roofs, Like the tramp of hoofs ! How it gushes and struggles out From the throat of the overflowing spout! Across the window pane It pours and pours ; And swift and wide, With a muddy tide. Like a river down the gutter roars The rain, the welcome rain!
Page 26 - The house-dog on his paws outspread Laid to the fire his drowsy head, The cat's dark silhouette on the wall A couchant tiger's seemed to fall; And, for the winter fireside meet, Between the andirons...
Page 103 - FLOWER in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is.
Page 102 - He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns, But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight A second lamp in the belfry burns!
Page 48 - Strike — till the last armed foe expires; Strike — for your altars and your fires; Strike — for the green graves of your sires; God — and your native land!
Page 54 - The ocean old, Centuries old, Strong as youth, and as uncontrolled. Paces restless to and fro, Up and down the sands of gold. His beating heart is not at rest; And far and wide, With ceaseless flow, His beard of snow Heaves with the heaving of his breast.