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CONTENTS Page Chapter I Foreword 4 Stylistic Differentiation of the English Vocabulary.

6 Guide to Stylistic Differentiation of the English Vocabulary . .6 I. Literary Stratum of Words..6 II. Colloquial Stratum of Words7 Exercises.8 Chapter II Stylistic Devices..23 Guide to Stylistic Devices ...23 I. Guide to Lexical Stylistic Devices ..24 A. Stylistic Devices Based on the Interaction Between the Logical and Nominal Meanings of a Word. Antonomasia ..24 B. Stylistic Devices Based on the Interaction Between Two Logical Meanings of a Word.24 C. Stylistic Devices Based on the Interaction Between the Logical and Emotive Meanings of a Word ..25 D. Stylistic Devices Based on the Interaction Between the Free and Phraseological Meanings of a Word (or Between the Meanings of Two Homonyms).26 Exercises...27 II. Guide to Syntactical Stylistic Devices 63 Exercises...66 III. Guide to Lexico-Syntactical Stylistic Devices...85 Exercises...87 IV. Guide to Graphical and Phonetic Expressive Means...106 Exercises.107 Chapter III Functional Styles113 Chapter IV Excerpts for Complex Stylistic Analysis..127 Supplement.157 List of Authors Whose Works Were Used in Compiling the Manual 183 List of Newspapers Quoted in the Manual184

In conclusion the author wants to express her sincerest thanks to the stylistic section of the Chair of English Lexicology and Stylistics of the Maurice Thorez Moscow State Pedagogical Institute of Foreign Languages, headed by Assistant-professor E. G. Soshalskaya; to Professor N. S. Chemodanov, Head of the Chair of German Philology of Moscow State University; to Assistant-professor of the Chair of English Philology of Moscow State University A. I. Poltoratsky; and to Y. M. Skrebnev, Head of the Chair of English Philology of Gorky State Pedagogical Institute of Foreign Languages for their critical remarks and valid help in reviewing the present manual. 4

FOREWORD The theoretical foundation of the present manual is Prof. I. R. Galperin's well-known book (., 1958). Seminar in Style is an attempt to supply the student of English stylistics with materials illustrating the theoretical course of lectures and enabling him to start his independent stylistic analysis. Proceeding from Prof. Galperin's statement about the aims and concerns of stylistics,* the author believes that the aim of seminars is to teach the student to recognize the sources of expressiveness of poetic discourse, to describe and specify the whole range of stylistic devices found in the language, establish their relevant characteristics and functions and indicate the interdependence between the latter and the context; also to describe functional styles of the language and state the hierarchy of system-forming features within each of them. Correspondingly the manual falls into four chapters: I. Stylistic differentiation of the English vocabulary. II. Stylistic devices. Functional styles. Excerpts for complex stylistic analysis. Exercises of each chapter form two groups: those intended for the identification of the discussed phenomenon; those offered for the general functional analysis of it.The textbook concludes with a supplement presenting samples of stylistic analysis, and the list of authors whose works were used in the Exercises. Due to certain detalization and modification introduced into Prof. Galperin's classification and elaboration of stylistic entities the author found it advisable to supply each chapter with a guide where particularities concerning concrete facts under discussion are briefly explained and summarized. * /. R. Galperin. Javlajetza li stilistika urovnem jazika? In: "Problemi jazikoznanija", Mosc., 1967, p. 198203. 5

CHAPTER 1 STYLISTIC DIFFERENTIATION OF THE ENGLISH VOCABULARY GUIDE TO STYLISTIC DIFFERENTIATION OF THE ENGLISH VOCABULARY Proceeding from the heterogeneity of the vocabulary it is divided in the present manual into neutral the bulkiest literary and colloquial strata. I. L I T E R A R Y STRATUM OF WORDS I. The first subdivision of literary words to come under discussion are archaisms. Their main types illustrated by the given examples are: archaisms proper, i. ., antiquated or obsolete words replaced by new ones (e. g., anonat once; haplyperhaps; befallhappen, etc.); historical words, i. ., words denoting such concepts and phenomena that have gone out of use in modern times (i. ., knight, spear, lance, etc.); poetic words, i. ., archaic words with the fixed sphere of usage in poetry and elevated prose and with the function of imbuing the work of art with a lofty poetic colouring (e. g., woe sorrow; haplessunlucky; staunchfirm, harkenhear, etc.); morphological (or partial) archaisms, i. ., archaic forms of otherwise non-archaic words (e. g., speaketh, cometh, wrougth, brethren, etc.). The main stylistic function of archaisms, besides the indicated poetic function, is to re-create the atmosphere of antiquity. Not seldom though archaisms occurring in otherwise inappropriate surroundings are intentionally used by the writer to cause humorous effect. II. The second subdivision of literary words is presented by barbarisms and foreign words which are used mainly to supply the narrated events with the proper local colouring and to convey the idea of the foreign origin or cultural and educational status of the personage.

The third group is made of terms. As it is well known their main stylistic function is to create the true-to-life atmosphere of the narration, but terms can also be used with a parodying function, thus creating humorous effect. Neologisms comprising the fourth item offered for the students' investigation are represented only by the group of stylistically coloured individual neologisms (or nonce-words, or occasional words), which are created on the basis of the existing wordbuilding patterns but have validity only in and for the given context. Usually they are heavily stylistically loaded, their major stylistic functions being the creation either of the effect of laconism, terseness and implication or that of witty humour and satire. II. COLLOQUIAL STRATUM OF WORDS I. Slang is the most extended and vastly developed subgroup of non-standard colloquial layer of the vocabu lary. Besides separate words it includes also highly figu rative phraseology. Occurring mainly in dialogue, slang serves to create speech characteristics of personages. II. Among vulgarisms, the second subdivision to iden tify and analyse, we should differentiate those, which, through long usage, have lost their abusive character and became mere signals of ruffled emotions, and those which preserved their initial characteristics and serve to insult and humiliate the addressee of the remark or to convey the speaker's highly negative evaluation of the object in question. The first have lost much (or all) of their shock ing power, became hackneyed and moved close to standard colloquial words (of Russ. '', or Engl, 'devil') while the latter, which may be called vulgarisms proper comprise the main bulk of this vocabulary group. III. Both subgroups of jargonisms are functioning in limited spheres of society. The difference lies in the charac ter and causes of limitation: professional jargonisms, or professionalisms, circulate within communities joined by professional interests and are emotive synonyms to terms; social jargonisms arc to be found within groups charac terized by social integrity, they are emotive synonyms to 7

neutral words of the general word-stock and purposefully conceal or disguise the meaning of the expressed concept. IV. Dialectal words, as it is well known, are introduced into the speech of personages to indicate their origin. The number of dialectal words and their frequency also indicate the educational and cultural level of the speaker, EXERCISES I. Literary Stratum of Words I. State the type and the functions of archaisms. 1. I was surprised to see Heathcliff there also. He stood by the fire, his back towards me, just finishing a stormy scene to poor Zillah, who ever and anon interrupted her labour to pluck up the corner of her apron, and heave an indignant groan... "Thou art the Man!" cried Jabes, after a solemn pause, leaning over his cushion. "Seventy times seven times didst thou gapingly contort thy visageseventy times seven did I take council with my soulLo! this is human weakness: this also may be absolved! The first of the seventy-first is come. Brethrenexecute upon him the judgement written. Such honour have all His saints!" (E. Br.) 2. Anon she murmured, "Guido"and bewhiles a deep sigh rent her breast... She was begirt with a flowing kirtle of deep blue, bebound with a belt, bebuckled with a silvern clasp, while about her waist a stomacher of point lace ended in a ruffled farthingale at her throat. On her head she bore a sugar-loaf hat shaped like an extinguisher and pointing backward at an angle of 45 degrees. "Guido," she murmured, "Guido." And erstwhile she would wring her hands as one distraught and mutter, "He cometh not." (L.) 3. "Odd Bodikins!" he roared, "but the tale is as rare as it is new! and so the waggoner said to the Pilgrim that sith he had asked him to pull him off the wagon at that town, put him off he must, albeit it was but the small of the night by St. Pancras! whence hath the fellow so novel a tale?nay, tell it me but once more, haply I may remem-

ber it"-and the Baron fell back in a perfect paroxysm of merriment. (L.) 4. He kept looking at the fantastic green of the jungle and then at the orange-brown earth, febrile and pulsing as though the rain were cutting wounds into it. Ridges flinched before the power of it. The Lord giveth and He taketh away, Ridges thought solemnly. (N. M.) 5. If manners maketh man, then manner and grooming maketh poodle. (St.) Anthony . . . clapped him affectionately on the back. -"You're a real knight-errant, Jimmy," he said. (Ch.) "He of the iron garment," said Daigety, entering, "is bounden unto you, MacEagh, and this noble lord shall be bounden also." (W. Sc.) 8. "He had at his back a satchel, which seemed to con tain a few necessaries, a hawking gauntlet on his left hand, though he carried no bird, and in his right hand a stout hunter's pole." (W. Sc.) II. Give the English equivalents, state the origin and stylistic purpose of barbarisms and foreign words. Pay attention to their interrelation with the context. She caught herself criticizing his belief that, since his joke about trying to keep her out of the poorhouse had once been accepted as admirable humor, it should continue to be his daily bon mot. (S. L.) Nevertheless, despite her experience, she hadn't yet reached the stage of thinking all men beastly; though she could readily sympathize with the state of mind of any woman driven to utter that particular cri de coeur. (St. B.) Then, of course, there ought to be one or two outsidersjust to give the thing a bona fide appearance. I and Eileen could see to thatyoung people, uncritical, and with no idea of politics. (Ch.) 4. "Tyree, you got half of the profits!" Dr. Bruce shouted. "You're my de facto partner." "What that de facto mean, Doc?.." "Papa, it means you a partner in fact and in law," Fishbelly told him. (Wr.) 5. Yates remained serious. "We have time, Herr Zippmann, to try your schnapps. Are there any German troops in Neustadt?" 9

"No, Herr Offizier, that's just what I've to tell you. This morning, four gentlemen in all, we went out of Neu-stadt to meet the Herren Amerikaner." (St. H.) 6. And now the roof had fallen in on him. The first shock was over, the dust had settled and he could now see that his whole life was kaput. (J. Br.) 7. "I never sent any telegram. What did it say?" "I beieve it is still on the table la-bas." Elise retired, pounced upon it, and brought it to her mistress in triumph. "Voila, madame!" (Ch.) 8. When Danny came home from the army he learned that he was an heir and owner of property. The viejo, that is the grandfather, had died leaving Danny the two small houses on the Tortilla Flat. (St.) III. State the nature and role of the terms. I. " . . . don't you go to him for anything more serious than a pendectomy of the left ear or a strabismus of the cardiograph." No one save Kennicott knew exactly what this meant, but they laughed . . . (S. L.) 2. "Good," Abbey said suddenly. He took up a specimenit was an aneurism of the ascending aortaand began in a friendly manner to question Andrew... "Do you know anything of the history of aneurism?" "Ambroise Pare," Andrew answered, and Abbey had already begun his approving nod, "is presumed to have first discovered the condition." (A. C.) 3. Philip Heatherhead,whom we designate Physiological Philip as he strolled down the lane in the glory of early June, presented a splendid picture of young manhood. By this we mean that his bony framework was longer than the average and that instead of walking like an ape he stood erect with his skull balanced on his spinal column in a way rarely excelled even in a museum. The young man appeared in the full glory of perfect health: or shall we say, to be more exact, that his temperature was 98, his respiration normal, his skin entirely free from mange, ery-sipelas and prickly heat... At a turn of path Philip suddenly became aware of a young girl advancing to meet him. Her spinal column though shorter than his, was elongated and erect, and 10 10

Philip saw at once that she was not a chimpanzee. She wore no hat and the thick capillary growth that covered her cranium waved in the sunlight and fell low over her eyesockets. The elasticity of her step revealed not the slightest trace of apendicitis or locomotor ataxia, while all thought of eczema, measles or spotty discoloration was precluded by the smoothness and homogeneity of her skin. At the sight of Philip the subcutaneous pigmentation of the girl's face underwent an intensification. At the same time the beating of the young man's heart produced in his countenance also a temporary inflammation due to an un-deroxydization of the tissues of his face. They met, and their hands instinctively clasped by an interadjustment of the bones known only in mankind and the higher apes but not seen in the dog... Philip drew the girl's form towards him till he had it close to his own form, and parallel to it, both remaining . perpendicular, and then bending the upper verterbrae of his spinal column forwards and' sideways he introduced his face into a close proximity with hers. In this attitude, difficult to sustain for a prolonged period, he brought his upper and lower lips together, protruded them forward, and placed them softly against hers in a movement seen also in the orang-outang but never in the hippopotamus. (L.) At noon the hooter and everything died. First, the pulley driving the punch and shears and emery wheels stopped its lick and slap. Simultaneously the compressor providing the blast for a dozen smith-fires went dead. Finally old Peter was left standing dead struckas if it had never happened to him before, as if he wasn't an old miser for workspecifically, piece-work, always trying to knock the extra piece before the power went. (S. Ch.) . . .he rode up to the campus, arranged for a room in the graduate dormitory and went at once to the empty Physics building. (M. W.) "They're real!" he murmured. "My God, they are absolutely real!" Erik turned. "Didn't you believe that the neutron existed?" "Oh, I believed," Fabermacher shrugged away the phrase. "To me neutrons were symbols, n with a mass of mn =1.008. But until now I never saw them." (M.W.) 11

IV. Define the pattern of creation and the function of the following individual neologisms. She was a young and unbeautiful woman. (I. Sh.) I'll disown you, I'll disinherit you, I'll unget you! and damn me, if ever I call you back again! (Sh.) (She was) . . . waiting for something to happen. Or for everything to un-happen. (. .) She was . . . doing duty of her waitresshood. (..) Every man in his hours of success, tasted godhood. (M. W.) . . .tiny balls of fluff (chickens) passed on into semi-naked pullethood and from that into dead henhood. (Sh. A.) His youngness and singlemindedness were obvious enough. (S.) But Miss Golightly, a fragile eyeful, . . . appeared relatively unconcerned. (T. C.) For a headful of reasons I refuse. (T. C.) It is the middle of a weekday morning with a state-ful of sand and mountains around him. (A.M.) His father . . . installed justly to make little boys feel littler and stupid boys aware of their stupidity. (St.) You are becoming tireder and tireder. (H.) 13. "I love you mucher." "Plenty mucher? Me tooer." (J. Br.) Oh, it was the killingest thing you ever saw. (K.A.) "Mr. Hamilton, you haven't any children, have you?" "Well, no. And I'm sorry about that, I guess. I'm sorriest about that." (St.) Sometimes we are sleepy and fall asleep together in a corner, sometimes we are very hungry, sometimes we are a little frightened, but what is oftenest hard upon us is the cold. (D.) You're goddamndest boy. (I. Sh.) She's the goddamest woman I ever saw. (St.) I've been asked to appear in Rostand's wonderful fairy play. Wouldn't it be nice if you Englished it for us? (K.) So: I'm not just talented. I'm geniused. (Sh. D.) There were ladies too . . . some of whom knew

Trilby, and thee'd and thou'd with familiar and friendly affection while others mademoiselle'd her with distant politeness and were mademoiselle'd and madame'd back again. (G. du M.) Mrs. Tribute "my deared" everybody, even things inanimate, such as the pump in the dairy. (W. D.) A luxury hotel for dogs is to be opened at Lima, Peru, a city of 30,000 dogs. The furry guests will have separate hygienic kennels, top medical care and high standard cuisine, including the best bones. Also on hand at the "dogotel"trees. (M. N.) . . .the country became his Stepfatherland. (E.) A college education is all too often merely sheep-skindeep. (E.) V. Compare the neutral and the literary modes of expression. "My children, my defrauded, swindled infants!" cried Mrs. Renwigs. (D.) He turned round and . . . encountered . . the joyous face of Mr. Lipman, the serene countenance of Mr. Winkle, and the intellectual lineaments of Mr. Shodgrass. (D) "I am Alpha and Omega,the first and the last," the solemn voice would announce. (D. du M.) Twenty miles west of Tueson the "Sunset Express" stopped at a tank to take on water. Besides the aqueous addition the engine of that famous flyer acquired some other things that were not good for it. (. .) . . .the famous Alderman who objected to the phrase in Canning's inscription for a Pitt Memorial "He died poor" and wished to substitute "He expired in indigent circumstances." (Luc.) He is always in extremes; perpetually in the superlative degree. (D.) II. Colloquial Stratum of Words I. State the function of slang in the following examples, also paying attention to the morphological and syntactical characteristics of slang units and semantic and

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structural changes some of them underwent to become a slang expression. 1. "I'm the first one saw her. Out at Santa Anita she's hanging around the track every day. I'm interested: pro- i fessionally. I find out she's some jock's regular, she's living with the shrimp, I get the jock told Drop it if he don't want conversation with the vice boys: see, the kid's fifteen. But stylish: she's okay, she comes across. Even when she's wearing glasses this thick; even when she opens her mouth and you don't know if she's a hillbilly or an Okie or what, I still don't. My guess, nobody'll ever know where she came from. (T. C.) Bejees, if you think you can play me for an easy mark, you've come to the wrong house. No one ever played Harry Hope for a sucker! (O'N.) A cove couldn't be too careful. (D. C.) I've often thought you'd make a corking good actress. (Dr.) "When he told me his name was Herbert I nearly burst out laughing. Fancy calling anyone Herbert. A scream, I call it." (S. M.) I steered him into a side street where it was dark and propped him against a wall and gave him a frisk. (O'N.) "I live upstairs." The answer seemed to explain enough to relax him. "You got the same layout?" "Much smaller." He tapped ash on the floor. "This is a dump. This is unbelievable. But the kid don't know how to live even when she's got the dough." (T. C.) It is. But not so much the hope of booze, if you can believe that. I've got the blues and Hickey's a great one to . make a joke of everything and cheer you up. (O'N.) "George," she said, "you're a rotten liar. . . The part about the peace of Europe is all bosh." (Ch.) She came in one night, plastered, with a sun-burned man, also plastered ... (J. O'H.) "Your friend got stinko and Fane had to send out for a bouncer." (J. O'H.) "That guy just aint hep," Mazzi said decisively. "He's as unhep as a box, I can't stand people who aint hep." (J.)

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II. Specify hackneyed vulgarisms and vulgarisms proper; determine the kind of emotion which had caused their usage. 1. . . .a hyena crossed the open on his way around the hill. "That bastard crosses there every night," the man said. (H.) Suddenly Percy snatched the letter . . . "Give it back to me, you rotten devil," Peter shouted. "You know damn well it doesn't say that. I'll kick your big fat belly. I swear I will." (J. Br.) "Look at the son of a bitch down there: pretending he's one of the boys today." (J.) "How are you, Cartwright? This is the very devil of a business, you know. The very devil of a business." (Ch.) "Poor son of a bitch," he said. "I feel for him, and I'm sorry I was bastardly." (J.) I'm no damned fool! I couldn't go on believing forever that gang was going to change the world by shooting off their loud traps on soapboxes and sneaking around blowing up a lousy building or a bridge! I got wise, it was all a crazy pipe dream! (O'N.) III. Differentiate professional and social jargonisms; classify them according to the narrow sphere of usage, suggest a terminological equivalent where possible: She came out of her sleep in a nightmare struggle for breath, her eyes distended in horror, the strangling cough tearing her again and again . . . Bart gave her the needle. (D. C.) I'm here quite oftentaking patients to hospitals for majors, and so on. (S. L.) "I didn't know you knew each other," I said. "A long time ago it was," Jean said. "We did History Final together at Coll." (K. A.) They have graduated from Ohio State together, himself with an engineering degree. (J.) The arrangement was to keep in touch by runners and by walkietalkie. (St. H.)

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"Okay Top," he said. "You know I never argue with the First Sergeant." (J.) Stark bought each one of them the traditional beer a new noncom always buys. (J.) "All the men say I'm a good noncom ... for I'm fair and I take my job seriously." (N. M.) "We stopped the attack on Paragon White and . . . Personally I think it was a feeler, and they're going to try again to-night." (N. M.) Dave: Karach . . . That's where I met Libby Dod-son . . . Me and him were going to do everything together when we got back to Civvy Street. . . I'll work as a chippy on the Colonel's farm. (A. W.) "So you'll both come to dinner? Eight fifteen. Dinny, we must be back to lunch. Swallows!" added Lady Mont round the brim of her hat and passed out through the porch. "There's a house-party," said Dinny to the young man's elevated eyebrows. "She means tails and a white tie." "Oh! Oh! Best bib and tucker, Jean." (G.) "I think we've had enough of the metrop for the time being and require a change." (P. G. W.) He learned his English as a waiter in Gib. (H). They can't dun you for bills after seven years, can they? (Ch.) "How long did they cook you!" Dongere's stopped short and looked at him. "How long did they cook you?" "Since eight this morning. Over twelve hours . . ." . . ."You didn't unbutton then? After twelve hours of it?" "Me? . . . They got a lot of dancing to do before they'll get anything out of me." (. .) 16. But, after all, he knows I'm preggers. (T. C.) IV. Observe the dialectal peculiarities of dialogue in the following examples; pay attention to changes in spelling caused by specific pronunciation.* 1. "By the way, Inspector, did you check up that story of Ferguson's?" "Ferguson?" said the Inspector, in the resentful accents of a schoolboy burdened with too much homework. "Oo, ay, we havena forgot Ferguson. I went tae Sparkes of them * More on this particular subject see in Exercises on graphon on p. 109112. 16

remembered him weel enough. The lad doonstairs in the showroom couldna speak with cairtainty tae the time, but he recognized Ferguson from his photograph, as havin' brocht in a magneto on the Monday afternoon. He said Mr. Saunders wad be the man tae that, and pit a ca' through on the house telephone tae Mr. Sparkes, an' he had the young fellow in. Saunders is one o' they bright lads. He picked the photograph at once oot o' the six I showed him an' tirned up the entry o' the magneto in the day-book." "Could he swear to the time Ferguson came in?" "He wadna charge his memory wi' the precise minute, but he had juist come in fra' his lunch an' found Ferguson waitin' for him. His lunchtime is fra' 1.30 tae 2.30, but he was a bit late that day, an' Ferguson had been waitin' on him a wee while. He thinks it wad be aboot ten minutes tae three." "That's just about what Ferguson made it." "Near enough." "H'm. That sounds all right. Was that all Saunders had to say?" "Ay. Forbye that he said he couldna weel understand whit had happened tae the magneto. He said it looked as though some yin had been daein' it a wilfu' damage." (D. S.) "That's so, my Lord. I remember having tae du much the same thing, mony years since, in an inquest upon a sailing-vessel ran aground in the estuary and got broken up by bumping herself to bits in a gale. The insurance folk thocht that the accident wasna a'togither straightforwards. We tuk it upon oorselz tae demonstrate that wi' the wind and tide setti' as they did, the boat should ha' been well-away fra' the shore if they started at the hour they claimed tae ha' done. We lost the case, but I've never altered my opeenion." (D. S.) "We'll show Levenford what my clever lass can do. I'm looking ahead, and I can see it. When we've made ye the head scholar of Academy, then you'll see what your father means to do wi' you. But ye must stick in to your lessons, stick in hard." (A. C.) 4. I wad na been surpris'd to spy You on an auld wife' flainen toy: Or aiblins some bit duddie boy, On's wyliecoat (R.B.) 2 53 17

V. Comment on the structure and function of the standard colloquial words and expressions. "Can we have some money to go to the show this aft, Daddy?" (H.) "We Woosters'are, all for that good old medieval hosp. and all that, but when it comes to finding chappies collaring your bed, the thing becomes a trifle too mouldy." (P. G. W.) 3. "Officers' dance last night, Sir," this tech said . . . "Congrats." (J. H.) Winter garments surpassed even personal gossip as the topic at parties. It was good form to ask, "Put on your heavies yet?" (S. L.) I was feeling about as cheerio as was possible under the circs when a muffled voice hailed me from the north-east. . . (P.G.W.) 6. "What did Blake say about the pictures of Godfrey?" "About what I expected. He's pretty sure the man he tailed was Godfrey, but refuses to positively identify him from the pix." (Br. H.) 7. "I was snooping round for news of you, when I connected with this dame. She wasn't at all what I thought she'd besome swell naughty Society lady that'd scare the life out of me." (Ch.) His expenses didn't go down . . . washing cost a packet and you'd be surprised the amount of linen he need- ed. (S.M.) I was. the biggest draw in London. At the old Aquarium, that was. All the swells came to see me ... I was the talk of the town. (S. M.) 10. "Say, what do you two think you're doing? Telling fortunes or making love? Let me warn you that the dog is a frisky bacheldore, Carol. Come on, now, folks, shake a leg. Let's have some stunts or a dance or something." (S. L.) A heart man told me I was going to die in six months. (I. Sh.) "Hello, kid! Gee, you look cute, all right." (Dr.) Mr. Marbury captured her with a loud,. "Oh, quit fussing now. Come over here and sit down and tell us how's tricks." (S. L.) 14.. "Say! You cut out o'this now before I do something

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to you, do you hear? I'm not the one to let you pull this stuff on me . . . Beat if before I do something to you, do you hear?" (Dr.) VI. Compare the neutral and colloquial (standard or with a limited range of application) modes of expression. "Get on a little faster, put a little more steam on, Ma'am, pray." (D.) "I gave him your story in the magazine. He was quite impressed . . . But he says you're on the wrong track. Negroes and children: who cares?" "Not Mr. Berman, I gather. Well, I agree with him. I read that story twice: Brats and niggers." (T. C.) 3. "I do think the Scandinavian are the heartiest and best people" "Oh, do you think so?" protested Mrs. Jackson Elder. "My husband says the Svenskas that work in the planing-mill are perfectly terrible" (S. L.) He tried these engineers, but no soap. No answer. (J.O'H.) H: I'd have been elected easy. M: You would, Harry, it was a sure thing. A dead cinch, Harry, everyone knows that. (O'N.) "Big-Hearted Harry. You want to know what I think? I think you're nuts. Pure plain crazy. Goofy as a loon. That's what I think." (J.) There were . . . with a corner of the bar to themselves what I recognized at once to be a Regular Gang, a Bunch, a Set. (P.) "I met a cousin of yours, Mr. Muskham." "Jack?""Yes." "Last of the dandies. All the difference in the world, Dinny, between the 'buck', the 'dandy', the 'swell', the 'masher', the 'blood', the 'knut', and what's the last variety calledI never know. There's been a steady decrescendo. By his age Jack belongs to the masher' period, but his cut was always pure dandy." (G.) VII. Compare the literary and colloquial modes of expression. 1. "The scheme I would suggest cannot fail of success, but it has what may seem to you a drawback, sir, in that it requires a certain financial outlay." 19

"He means," I translated to Corky, "that he has got a pippin of an idea but it's going to cost a bit." (P. G. W.) "I say old boy, where do you hang out?" Mr. Pickwick responded that he was at present suspended at the George and Vulture. (D.) "Prithee, give me some ham, piping hot, fragrant with the flavour of cloves, brown sugar and tasty sauce. Serve it between fresh slices of nourishing brown and buttered bread. And draw for your faithful servant a cup of aromatic coffee with cream that is rich and pure." The girl gave him a frigid glance and cried to the kitchen. "Pig on rye and java with." (Ev.) 4. "Obviously an emissary of Mr. Bunyan had obtained clandestine access to her apartment in her absence and purloined the communications in question." It took Lord Uffenham some moments to work this out, but eventually he unravelled it and was able to translate it from the butlerese. What the man was trying to say that some low blister, bought with Bunyan's gold, had sneaked into the girl's flat and pinched the bally things. (P. G. W.) "Here she is," said Quilp . . . "there is the woman I ought to have marriedthere is the beautiful Sarah there is the female who has all the charms of her sex and none of their weakness. Oh, Sally, Sally." (D.) I need the stimulation of good company. He terms this riff-raff. The plain fact is, I am misunderstood. (D. du M.) VIII. Analyse the vocabulary of the following; indicate the type and function of stylistically coloured units. 1. "What the hell made you take on a job like that?" "A regrettable necessity for cash. I can assure you it doesn't suit my temperament." Jimmy grinned. "Never a hog for regular work, were you?" (Ch.) 2. "You'll probably see me at a loss for one to-night." "I bet. But you'll stick to me, won't you?" "Like a bloody leech, man." (K.A.) 3. At the counter of the Greek Confectionery Parlour, while they ate dreadful messes of decayed bananas, acid cherries, whipped cream, and gelatinous ice-cream, they screamed to one another: "Hey, lemme' lone," "Quit doggone you, looka what you went and done, you almost 20

spilled my glass swater," "Like hell I did," "Heygol darn your hide, don't you go sticking your coffinh nail in my i-scream," "Oh you Batty, how juh like dancing with Tilly McGuire last night? Some squeezing, heh,kid?" (S. L.) "Listen, you son of a bitch," he said feeling an icy calm that was a flaming rapture of abandon. "Keep your big yap away from me, or I'll sow it shut for you." (J.) "Now that the g. d. war is over and you probably have a lot of time over there, how about sending the kids a couple of bayonets or Swastikas . . ." (S.) Roma abandoned herself to the fascinations of the scene, and her gaiety infected everybody. "Camillo, you must tell me who they all are. There now those men who come first in black and red?" "Laymen," said the young Roman. "They're called the Apostolis Cursori. When a Cardinal is nominated they take him the news, and get two or three thousand francs for their trouble." "Good for them! And those fine fellows in tight black vestment like Spanish bullfighters?" "The Mazzieri! They carry the mace to clear the way." "Go on, Camillo mio." "Those men in the long black robes are lawyers of the Apostolis palace." "And this dear old friar with the mittens and rosary . and the comfortable linsey-woolsey sort of face?" "That's Father Pifferi of San Lorenzo, confessor to the Pope. He knows all the Pope's sins ... He is a Capucin and those Frati in different colours coming behind him ..." "I know them: see if I don't," she cried, as there passed under the balcony a double file of friars and monks nearly all alike fat, ungainly, flabby, puffy specimens of humanity, carrying torches of triple candles, and telling their beads as they walked." (H. C.) 7. "Nicholas, my dear, recollect yourself," remonstrated Mrs. Nickleby. "Dear Nicholas, pray," urged the young lady. "Hold your tongue, Sir," said Ralph. (D.). 8. When Mr. and Mrs. Sunbury went to bed on the night of Herbert's twenty-first birthday, and in passing I may say that Mrs. Sunbury never went to bed, she retired, . but Mr. Sunbury who was not quite so refined as his wife always said: "Me for Bedford". . . (S. M.) 21

9. There are many ways to do this and you learn most of them. But the jerks and twerps, the creeps and the squares and the strips flourish and seem, with the new antibiotics, to have attained a sort of creeping immortality, while people that you care for die publicly or anonymously each month. (H.) 10. "Now take fried, crocked, squiffed, loaded, plastered, blotto, tiddled, soaked, boiled, stinko, oiled, polluted." "Yes," I said. "That's the next set of words I am decreasing my vocabulary by," said Atherton. "Tossing them all out in favor of" "Intoxicated," I supplied. "I favor drunk," said Atherton. "It's shorter and monosyllabic, even though it may sound a little harsher to the squeamishminded." "But there are degrees of difference," I objected. "Just being tiddled isn't the same as being blotto, or" "When you get into the vocabulary-decreasing busi-ness," he interrupted, "you don't bother with technicalities. You throw out the whole kit and caboodleI mean the whole bunch," he hastily corrected himself. (P. G. W.) 11. I repented having tried this second entrance, and was almost inclined to slip away before he finished cursing, but ere I could execute this intention, he ordered me in, and shut and refastened the door. There was a great fire, and that was all the light in the huge apartment, whose floor had grown a uniform grey; and the once brilliant pewter dishes, which used to attract my gaze when I was a girl, partook of a similar obscurity, created by tarnish and dust. I inquired whether I might call the maid, and be conducted to a bedroom. Mr. Earnshaw vouchsafed no answer. (E. Br.)

CHAPTER II STYLISTIC DEVICES GUIDE TO STYLISTIC DEVICES The main constituting feature of a stylistic device (SD)* is the binary opposition of two meanings of the employed unit, one of which is normatively fixed in the language and does not depend upon the context, while the other one originates within certain context and is contextual. It is possible to single out the following main groups of SD:** I. SD based on the binary opposition of lexical meanings regardless of the syntactical organization of the utterancelexical stylistic devices. II. SD based on the binary opposition of syntactical meanings regardless of their semanticssyntactical sty listic devices. SD based on the binary opposition of lexical meanings accompanied by fixed syntactical organization of employed lexical unitslexico-syntactical stylistic devices. SD based on the opposition of meanings of phonological and/or graphical elements of the language graphical and phonetical stylistic means. When the opposition is clearly perceived and both indicated meanings are simultaneously realized within the same short context we speak of fresh, original, genuine SD. When one of the meanings is suppressed by the other we speak of trite, or hackneyed SD. When the second, contextual, meaning is completely blended with the first, initial one, we speak of the disappear* /. R. Galperin. Javlajetza li stilistika urovnem jazika? In: "Problemi jazikoznanija", Mosc., 1967, p. 198203. M. Riffaterre. Criteria for style analysis."Word", No. 1. N. Y., 959. ** Complete elaboration of the subject see in Prof. Galperin's book "Ocherki po stilistike anglijskogo jazika" (Mosc, 1958).

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ance of SD and its replacement by polysemy or phraseology. I. GUIDE TO LEXICAL STYLISTIC DEVICES Lexical SD are further classified according to the nature of lexical meanings participating in their formation. A. Stylistic Devices Based on the Interaction* Between the Logical and Nominal Meanings of a Word. Antonomasia Antonomasia is always trite when its contextual meaning is logical, because, to be employed as a common noun, the proper name must have fixed logical associations between the name itself and the qualities of its bearer which may occur only as a result of long and frequent usage. The second type of antonomasia, as a rule, is original, for the variety of common nouns becoming contextual proper names is unlimited, and thus each case is a unique creation. The main function of this type of antonomasiato characterize the person simultaneously with naming him is vastly used in the so-called "speaking names" (cf. Lady Teasle; Miss Sharp; Mr. Credulous, etc.). B. Stylistic Devices Based on the Interaction Between Two Logical Meanings of a Word (1) Various objects, phenomena, actions, etc., may possess similar features, which fact provides the possibility of transference of meaning on the basis of similarity and association, i. e. metaphor. When likeness is observed between inanimate objects and human qualities, .we speak of personification. When a group of metaphors is clustered around the same image to make it more vivid and comp* Binary opposition" applied to SD means first and foremost the opposition of "that which had been"initial meaning and "that which appeared contextual meaning. Since it is important in each concrete case not only to state the origination of the new contextual meaning, but also to indicate peculiarities of the latter, we shall employ the term "interaction" which embraces both stages the origination and the ensuing activities of the new meaning.

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lete we speak of a developed (sustained, prolonged) metaphor. Metaphor can be expressed by all notional parts of speech. The most complete identification of the associated phenomena is achieved in verb-metaphors. (2) Metonymy reflects the actually existing relations between two objects and is thus based on their contiguity. Since the types of relations between two objects can be finally limited, they are observed again and again, and metonymy in most cases is trite (cf. to earn one's bread; to live by the pen; to keep one's mouth shut, etc.). Most cases of original metonymy present relations between a part and the whole and are known as synecdoche. Metonymy is expressed by nouns or substantivized numerals. ('. . . She was a pale and fresh eighteen.') (3) Irony is the clash of two diametrically opposite meanings within the same context, which is sustained in oral speech by intonation. Irony can be realized also through the medium of the situation, which, in written speech, may extend as far as a paragraph, chapter or even the whole book. Bitter, socially or politically aimed irony is referred to as sarcasm. C. Stylictic Devices Based on the Interaction Between the Logical and Emotive Meanings of a Word (1) Hyperbole is a deliberate exaggeration of some quantity, quality, size, etc., big though it might be even without exaggeration. If it is smallness that is being hyperbolized ("a woman of pocket size'), we speak of understatement, which works on identical principles but in opposite directions with hyperbole proper. (2) Epithet, the most explicitly subjective SD, structu rally falls into: (a) word-epithets, i. ., epithets expressed by any notional part of speech in the attributive or adver bial function; (b) two-step epithets, i. ., epithets supplied by intensifiers ('marvellously radiant smile'); (c) syn tactical epithets based on illogical syntactical relations between the modifier and the modified ('the brute of a boy'); (d) phrase-epithets, including into one epithet an extended phrase or a completed sentence ('a you-knowhow-dirty-men-are look'); (e) sentence-epithets, expressed 25

by a one-member (or one-word) sentence, which fulfils the function of emotive nomination ('Fool!'). In the sentence epithets are distributed: (a) singly ('a dry look'); (b) in pairs ('a wondeful and happy summer') (c) in strings ('a ribald, thundering, insolent, magnificent laugh'). Semantic classification of epithets allows to differen-tiate among them metaphorical epithets, which are based on metaphor ('the iron hate') and transferred ones, which transfer the quality of one object upon its nearest neigh-bour ('a tobaccostained smile') thus characterizing both of them. (3) Oxymoron joins two antonymous words into one] syntagm, most frequently attributive ('adoring hatred') or adverbial ('shouted silently'), less frequently of other patterns ('doomed to liberty'), etc. Trite oxymorons ('pretty lousily', 'awfully nice' and others) have lost their semantic discrepancy and are used in oral speech and fiction dialogue as indicators of roused emotions. In the treatment of both above-discussed groups and' the attention must be focused on the context and its role in the conversion of genuine SD into trite and dead ones as well as on the structural and semantic peculiarities and types of them. D. Stylistic Devices Based on the Interaction, Between the Free and Phraseological Meanings of a Word (or Between the Meanings of Two Homonyms) The main stylistic function of the indicated SD is to create humorous effect. Proceeding from the quality of the context and the structure of the SD we shall differentiate: Zeugmathe context allows to realize two meanings of the same polysemantic word (or a pair of homonyms) without the repetition of the word itself. Punthe role of the context is similar to that of zeugma, while the structure is changed, for the central word is repeated. Semantically false chainextended context prepares the reader for the realization of a word in one contextual meaning when unexpectedly appears a semantically alien element forcing the second contextual meaning upon

the central word. As it is seen from the denomination of the SD, structurally it presents a chain of homogeneous members,* belonging to non-relating semantic fields but linked to the same kernel, which due to them is realized in two of its meanings simultaneously. (4) Violation of phraseological unitsoccurs when the bound phraseological meanings of the components of the unit are disregarded and intentionally replaced by their original literal meanings. EXERCISES A. Stylistic Devices Based on the Interaction Between the Logical and Nominal Meanings of a Word. Antonomasia I. Discuss the interaction between the nominal and the contextual logical meanings and the associations caused by the latter in the following examples of antonomasia. 1. Kate kept him because she knew he would do anything in the world if he were paid to do it or was afraid not to do it. She had no illusions about him. In her business Joes were necessary. (St.) 2. In the dining-room stood a sideboard laden with glistening decanters and other utilities and ornaments in glass, the arrangement of which could not be questioned. Here was something Hurstwood knew about ... He took no little satisfaction in telling each Mary, shortly after she arrived, something of what the art of the thing required. (Dr.) 3. (The actress is all in tears). Her manager: "Now what's all this Tosca stuff about?" (S.M.) "Christ, it's so funny I could cut my throat. Madame Bovary at Columbia Extension School!" (S.) "You'll be helping the police, I expect," said Miss Cochran. "I was forgetting that you had such a reputation as Sherlock." (D. S.) * R. A. Budagov. Nabludenija nad jazikom i stilem I. Ilfa i E. Petrova. Uchenije zapiski LGU. Seria philol. nauk. Vip. 10. 1946. 27

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Duncan was a rather short, broad, dark-skinned taciturn Hamlet of a fellow with straight black hair. (D. H. L.) Every Caesar has his Brutus. (. .) II. State the role of the context in the realization of the logical meaning of a word (or a word combination) in the following examples of antonomasia, commenting also on their structure. Lady Teazle: Oh! I am quite undone! What will become of me? Now, Mr. LogicOh! mercy, sir, he's on the, stairs(Sh.) Her mother said angrily, "Stop making jokes. I don't know what you're thinking of. What does Miss Fancy think she's going to do?" "I don't know yet," said Cathy. (St.) Lucy: So, my dear Simplicity, let me give you a little respite . , . (Sh.) . . .we sat down at a table with two girls in yellow and three men, each one introduced to us as Mr. Mumble. (Sc. F.) The next speaker was a tall gloomy man, Sir Some-thing Somebody. (P.) . . .she'd been in a bedroom with one of the young Italians, Count Something ... (I. Sh.) Then there's that appointment with Mrs. What's-her-name for her bloody awful wardrobe. (A. W.) That What's-his- namethe rodeo rider was working the Stinson rodeo with you last year. (A. M.) Hey, pack it in, ole Son, Mister What's-his-name'll be here soon to have a look at this squatting chair of his. (A. W.) "A bit of village gossip. Mrs. Somebody or other's Ernie . . . had to go with his mother to the police station, (Ch.) . . .He's a big chap. Well, you've never heard so many well-bred commonplaces come from beneath the same bowler hat. The Platitude from Outer Spacethat's brother Nigel. He'll end up in the Cabinet one day make no mis-take. (O.) The average man, Mr. Average Man, Mr. Taxpayer, as drawn by Rollin Kirby looks the average New York man making more than 5000 dollars a year, (J. O'H.). This was Washingmachine Charley, or Louie the Louse as he was also called with less wit. All of them had

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heard about him of course: the single plane who nightly made his single nuisance raid, and who had been nicknamed by the stouthearted American troops. This information was in all news communiques. And in fact, because of the great height, the sound did resemble the noise made by an antiquated, onelung Maytag washer. But the nickname proved to be generic. (J.) 14. "Rest, my dear,rest. That's one of the most important things. There are three doctors in an illness like yours," he laughed in anticipation of his own joke. "I don't mean only myself, my partner and the radio-logist who does your X-rays, the three I'm referring to are Dr. Rest, Dr. Diet and Dr.' Fresh Air." (D. C.) III. Indicate the leading feature of the personages charac-terized by the following "speaking names".* Mr. Gradgrind (D.); Mr.Goldfinger (Fl.); Becky Sharp (Th.); Bosinney the Bucanneer (G.); Lady Teazle, Joseph Surface, Mr. Carefree, Miss Languish, Mr. Backbite, Mr. Snake, Mr. Credulous (Sh.); Holiday Golightly (T.C.); Mr. Butt, Mrs. Newrich, Mr. Beanhead (L.) B. Stylistic Devices Based on the Interaction Between Two Logical Meanings of a Word (1) Metaphor I. Discuss the structure, grammatical category and syntactical functions of metaphors in the following examples. The clock had struck, time was bleeding away. Dance music was bellowing from the open door of the Cadogan's cottage. (Bark.) There had been rain in the night, and now all the trees were curtseying to a fresh wind ... (A. H.) * Moscow News once suggested a likewise explanation of the nicknames: "...a man with red hair may be called Carrots, Ginger, or Rusty; the last name hints that he was left out in the rain as a baby. At school a fat boy may be called Fatty, Tubby, or Football, while a thin one may be called Skinny, Lanky, or Spindly. A tall one may. be Lofty, Lamp Post, or in ironical spirit Tiny or Shorty."

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4. She took a Bible from the shelf, and read; then, laying it down, thought of the summer days and the bright springtime that would come, of the sweet air that would steal in . . . (D.) "Will he ever come down those stairs again?" This thought lanced Constance's heart. (A. B.) Another night, deep in the summer, the heat of my room sent me out into the streets. (. .) 7. . . .every hour in every day she could wound his pride. (D.) 8. Money burns a hole in my pocket. (T. C.) 9. . . .The world was tipsy with its own perfections. (A.H.) II. Differentiate between genuine and trite metaphors. In the spaces between houses the wind caught her. It stung, it gnawed at nose and ears and aching cheeks, and she hastened from shelter to shelter . . . (S. L.)" Swan had taught him much. The great kindly Swede had taken him under his wing. (E. F.) It being his habit not to jump or leap, or make an upward spring, at anything in life, but to crawl at everything. (D.) Then would come six or seven good years when there might be 20 to 25 inches of rain, and the land would shout with grass. (St.) The laugh in her eyes died out and was replaced by something else. (M. S.) 6. Death is at the end of that devious, winding maze of paths . . . (Fr. N.) 7. Neither Mr. Povey nor Constance introduced the del icate subject to her again, and she had determined not to be the first to speak of it. . . .So the matter hung, as i were, suspended in the ether between the opposing force of pride and passion. (A. B.) 8. . . .her expression, an unrealized yawn, put, by example, a damper on the excitement I felt over dinin at so swanky a place. (T. C.) 9. Battle found his way to the Blue morning-room with out difficulty. He was already familiar with the geography of the house. (Ch.) 10. It was a ladylike yawn, a closed-mouth yawn, but you couldn't miss it; her nostril-wings gave her away. (S.) 30

III. State the number and quality of simple metaphors comprizing the following sustained metaphors. The stethoscope crept over her back. "Cough . . . Breathe . . ." Tap, tap. What was he hearing? What chan-ges were going on in her body? What was her lung telling him through the thick envelope of her flesh, through the wall of her ribs and her shoulders? (D. C.) The artistic centre of Galloway is Kirkcudbright, where the painters form a scattered constellation, whose nucleus is in the High Street, and whose outer stars twinkle in remote hillside cottages, radiating brightness as far as gatehouse of Fleet. (D. S.) The slash of sun on the wall above him slowly knifes down, cuts across his chest, becomes a coin on the floor and vanishes. (U) His countenance beamed with the most sunny smiles; laughter played around his lips, and good-humoured merriment twinkled in his eye. (D.) The music came to him across the now bright, now dull, slowly burning cigarette of each man's life, telling him its ancient secret of all men, intangible, unfathomable defying longwinded description . . . (J.) She had tripped into the meadow to teach the lambs a pretty educational dance and found that the lambs were wolves. There was no way out between their pressing gray shoulders. She was surrounded by fangs and sneering eyes. She could not go on enduring the hidden derision. She wanted to flee. She wanted to hide in the generous indifference of cities. (S. L.) As he walks along Potter Avenue the wires at their silent height strike into and through the crowns of the breathing maples. At the next corner, where the water from the ice-plant used to come down, sob into a drain, and reappear on the other side of the street. Rabbitt Crosses over and walks beside the gutter where the water used to run coating the shallow side of its course with ribbons of green slime waving and waiting to slip under your feet and dunk you if you dared walk on them. (U.) I have been waiting to talk to youto have you to myself, no lessuntil I could chase my new book out of the house. I thought it never would go. Its last moments lingered on and on. It got up, turned, again, took off its 31

gloves, again sat down, reached the door, came back until finally M. marked it down, lassoed it with a stout string, and hurled it at Pinker. Since then there's been an omin-ous silence. (. .) 9. His dinner arrived, a plenteous platter of foodbut no plate. He glanced at his neighbors. Evidently plates were an affectation frowned upon in the Oasis. Taking up a tarnished knife and fork, he pushed aside the underbrush of onions and came face to face with his steak. First impressions are important, and Bob Eden knew at once that this was no meek, complacent opponent that confronted him. The steak looked back at him with an air of defiance that was amply justified by what followed. Af-ter a few moments of unsuccessful battling, he summoned the sheik. "How about a steel knife?" he inquired. "Only got three and they're all in use," the waiter re-plied. Bob Eden resumed the battle, his elbows held close, his muscles swelling. With set teeth and grim face he bore down and cut deep. There was a terrific screech as his knife skidded along the platter, and to his horror he saw the steak rise from its bed of gravy and onions and fly from him. It traveled the grimy counter for a second, then dropped on to the knees of the. girl and thence to the floor. Eden turned to meet her blue eyes filled with laughter. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "I thought it was a steak, and it seems to be a lap dog." (E. D. B.) 10. Directly he saw those rolling chalk hills he was conscious of a difference in himself and in them. The steam-ing stew-pan that was London was left to simmer under its smoky sky, while these great rolling spaces sunned themselves as they had sunned themselves in the days of the Barrow men. (W. D.) IV. Speak about the role of the context in the creation of the image through a metaphor. There, at the very core of London, in the heart of its business and animation, in the midst of a whirl of noise and notion . . . stands Newgate. (D.) England has two eyes, Oxford and Cambridge. They are the two eyes of England, and two intellectual eyes, (Ch.T.)

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' 3. Beauty is but a flower Which wrinkles will devour. (O. N.) It appears to her that I am for the passing time the cat of the house, the friend of the family. (D.) Sunshine, the old clown, rims the door. (U.) The waters have closed above your head, and the world has closed upon your miseries and misfortunes for ever. (D.) V. Analyse the following cases of personification. On this dawn of October, 1885, she stood by her kitchen window . . . watching another dismal and rainy day emerge from the womb of the expiring night. And such an ugly, sickly-looking baby she thought it was that, so far as she was concerned, it could go straight back where it came from. (P. M.) He was fainting from sea-sickness, and a roll of the ship tilted him over the rail on to the smooth lip of the deck. Then a low, gray mother-wave swung out of the fog, tucked Harvey under one arm, so to speak, and pulled him off and away to lee-ward; the great green closed over him, and he went quietly to sleep. (R. K-) A dead leaf fell in Soapy's lap. That was Jack Frost's card. Jack is kind to the regular denizens of Madison Square, and gives fair warning of his annual call. At the corners of four streets he hands his pasteboard to the North Wind, footman of the mansion of All Outdoors, so that the inhabitants thereof may make ready. (. .) Dexter watched from the veranda of the Golf Club, watched the even overlap of the waters in the little wind, silver molasses under the harvest moon. Then the moon held a finger to her lips and the lake became a clear pool, pale and quiet. (Sc. F.) Here and there a Joshua tree stretched out hungry black arms as though to seize these travelers by night, and over that gray waste a dismal wind moaned constantly, chill and keen and biting. (E. D. B.) The Face of London was' now strangely altered . . . the voice of Mourning was heard in every street. (D. D.). Mother Nature always blushes before disrobing. (E.) The rainy night had ushered in a misty morning, half frost, half drizzle, and temporary brooks crossed our path, gurgling from the uplands. (E. Br.) 3 53 33

9. Chan shrugged. "All the time the big Pacific Ocean suffered sharp pains down below, and tossed about to prove it. May be from sympathy I was in the same fix.'' (E. D. B.) 10. Break, break, break On the cold gray stones, Sea! Break, break, break At the foot of thy chags, Sea! (T.) .(2) Metonymy I. State the type of relations existing between the object named and the object implied in the following examples of metonymy. She saw around her, clustered about the white tables, multitudes of violently red lips, powdered cheeks, cold, hard eyes, self-possessed arrogant faces, and insolent bosoms. (A. B.) The trenchful of dead Japanese made him feel even worse but he felt he must not show this, so he had joined in with the others; but his heart wasn't in it. (J.) It must not be supposed that stout women of a certain age never seek to seduce the eye and trouble the meditations of man by other than moral charms (A.B.) Daniel was a good fellow, honorable, brilliant, a figure in the world. But what of his licentious tongue? What of his frequenting of bars? (A. B.) If you knew how to dispose of the information, you could do the Axis quite a bit of good by keeping your eyes and ears open in Gretley. (P.) 6. "You've got nobody to blame but yourself." "The saddest words of tongue or pen." (I. Sh.) The syntax and idiom of the voice, in common con-versation, are not the syntax and idiom of the pen. (V.) For several days he took an hour after his work to make inquiry taking with him some examples of his pen and inks. (Dr.) The praise . . . was enthusiastic enough to have delighted any common writer who earns his living by his pen . . . (S. M.) 10. . . .there would follow splendid years of great works carried out together, the old head backing the young fire. (K.)

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11. Sceptre and crown must tumble down. And in the dust be equal made. With the poor crooked scythe and spade. (Shel.) He was interested in everybody. His mind was alert, and people asked him to dinner not for old times' sake, but because he was worth his salt. (S. M.) It was in those placid latitudes ... in the Pacific, where weeks, aye months, often pass without the margin-less blue level being ruffled by any wandering keel. (Fr. B.) II. Differentiate between trite and original metonymies. . . .for every look that passed between them, and word they spoke, and every card they played, the dwarf had eyes and ears. (D.) ". . .he had a stinking childhood." "If it was so stinking why does he cling to it?" "Use your head. Can't you see it's just that Rusty feels safer in diapers than he would in skirts?" (T. C.) "Some remarkable pictures in this room, gentlemen. A Holbein, two Van Dycks, and, if I am not mistaken, a Velasquez. I am interested in pictures!" (Ch.) Mrs. Amelia Bloomer invented bloomers in 1849 for the very daring sport of cycling. (D. W.) 5. "I shall enjoy a bit of a walk." "It's raining, you know." "I know. I'v got a Burberry." (Ch.) Two men in uniforms were running heavily to the Administration building. As they ran, Christian saw them throw away their rifles. They were portly men who looked like advertisements for Munich beer, and running came hard to them . . . The first prisoner stopped and picked up one. of the discarded rifles. He did not fire it, but carried it, as he chased the guards ... He swung the rifle like a club, and one of the beer advertisements went down. (I. Sh.) I get my living by the sweat of my brow. (D.) I crossed a high toll bridge and negotiated a no man's land and came to the place where the Stars and Stripes stood shoulder to shoulder with the Union Jack. (St.) Tom and Roger came back to eat an enormous tea and then played tennis till light failed. (S. M.) 10.I hope you will be able to send your mother some35

thing from time to time, as we can give her a roof over her head, a place to sleep and eat but nothing else. (J. O'H.) 11. Being tired and dirty for days at a time and then having to give up because flesh and blood just couldn't stand it. (S.M.) 12. . . .the watchful Mrs. Snagsby is there toobone of his bone, flesh of his flesh, shadow of his shadow. (D.) Joe Bell's is a quiet place compared to most Lexing-ton Avenue bars. It boasts neither neon nor television. (T.C.) I She was a sunny, happy sort of creature. Too fond of the bottle. (Ch.) To hell with Science! I have to laugh when I read some tripe these journalists write about it . . . What has Science done for Modern Man? (P.) It's the inside of the man, the warm heart of the man, the passion of the man, the fresh blood of the man . . that I speak of. (D) The streets were bedded with ... six inches of cold, soft carpet, churned to a dirty brown by the crush of teams and the feet of men. Along Broadway men picked their way in ulsters and umbrellas. (Dr.) Up the Square, from the corner of King Street, passed a woman in a new bonnet with pink strings, and a new blue dress that sloped at the shoulders and grew to a vast circumference at the hem. Through the silent sunlit solitude of the Square . . . this bonnet and this dress float-ed northwards in search of romance. (A. B.) "I never saw a Phi Beta Kappa wear a wrist watch." (J. O'H.) HI. Give the morphological and syntactical characteristics of metonymies. Many of the hearts that throbbed so gaily then, have ceased to beat; many of the looks that shone so brightly then, have ceased to glow. (D.) There had to be a survey. It cost me a few hundred pounds for the right pockets. (Fl.) He . . . took a taxi, one of those small, low Phila-delphia-made un-American-looking Yellows of that period. (J. O'H.) She goes on fainter and fainter before my eyes. (D.) 36

I have only one good qualityoverwhelming belief in the brains and hearts of our nation, our state, our town. (S.L.) Dinah, a slim, fresh, pale eighteen, was pliant and yet fragile. (. .) The man looked a rather old forty-five, for he was already going grey. (P.) The delicatessen owner was a spry and jolly fifty. (T. R.) He made his way through the perfume and conversa-tion. (I. Sh.) 10. The man carrying the black Gladstone refused the help of the red Caps. . . Didn't he look strong enough to carry a little bag, a little Gladstone like this? . . They were young and looked pretty strong, most of these Red Caps ... (J. O'H.) (3) Irony I. Analyse the following cases of irony, paying attention to the length of the context necessary to realize it: 1. Contentedly Sam Clark drove off, in the heavy traffic of three Fords and the Minniemashie House Free Bus. (S.L.) Stoney smiled the sweet smile of an alligator. (St.) Henry could get gloriously tipsy on tea and conversation. (A. H.) She had so painfully reared three sons to be Christian gentlemen that one of them had become an Omaha bartender, one a professor of Greek, and one, Cyrus N. Bogart, a boy of fourteen who was still at home, the most brazen member of the toughest gang in Boytown. (S. L.) Even at this affair, which brought out the young smart set, the hunting squire set, the respectable intellec-tual set, they sat up with gaiety as with a corpse. (S.L.) "If there's a war, what are you going to be in?" Lip-hook asked. "The Government, I hope," Tom said, "Touring the lines in an armored car, my great belly shaking like a jelly. Hey did you hear that? That's poetry" (J. Br.). 7. He could walk and run, was full of exact knowledge about God, and entertained no doubt concerning the

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special partiality of a minor deity called Jesus towards himself. (A. B.) . . . Try this one, "The Eye of Osiris." Great stuff. All about a mummy. Or Kennedy's "Corpse on the Mat" that's nice and light and cheerful, like its title. (D. S.) Blodgett College is on the edge of Minneapolis. It is a bulwark of sound religion. It is still combating ithe recent heresies of Voltaire, Darwin and Robert Ingersoll. Pious families in Minnesota, Iowa, Wisconsin, the Dakotas send their children thither, and Blodgett protects 'them from the wickedness of the universities. (S. L.) 10. ... the old lady . .. ventured to approach Mr. Benjamin Allen with a few comforting reflections of which the chief were, that after all, it was well it was no worse; the least said the soonest mended, and upon her word she did not know that it was so very bad after all; that what was over couldn't be begun and what couldn't be cured must be endured, with various other assurances of the like novel and strengthening description. (D.) 11. Poetry deals with primal and conventional things the hunger for bread, the love of woman, the love of child-ren, the desire for immortal life. If men really had new sentiments, poetry could not deal with them. If, let us say, a man did not feel a bitter craving to eat bread; but did, by way of substitute, feel a fresh, original craving to eat fenders or mahogany tables, poetry could not express him If a man, instead of falling in love with a woman, fell in love with a fossil or a sea anemone poetry could not ex-press him. Poetry can only express what is original in one sensethe sense in which we speak of original sin. It is original not in the paltry sense of being new, but in the deeper sense of being old; it is original in the sense that it deals with origins. (G. K. Ch.) 12. But every Englishman is born with a certain miraculous power that makes him master of the world. . . .As. the great champion of freedom and national independence he conquers and annexes half the world and calls it Colonization. (B. Sh.) All this blood and fire business tonight was pro-bably part of the graft to get the Socialists chucked out and leave honest business men safe to make their fortunes out of murder. (L. Ch.) England has been in a dreadful state for some 38

weeks. Lord Goodie would go out, Sir Thomas Doodle wouldn't come in, and there being nobody in Great Britain (to speak of) except Coodle and Doodle, there has been no Government. (D.) 15. It was at their beautiful country place in W. that we had the pleasure of interviewing the Afterthought. At their own cordial invitation, we had walked over from the nearest railway station, a distance of some fourteen miles. Indeed, as soon as they heard of our intention they invited us to walk. "We are so sorry not to bring you in the motor," they wrote, "but the roads are so frightfully dusty that we might get dust on our chauffeur." That little touch of thoughtfulness is the keynote of their character. (L.) 16. But George only lasted his mother as a source of posthumous excitement for about two months. Just as the quarrel with Elizabeth reached stupendous heights of vulgar invective (on her side), old Winterbourne got himself run over. So there was the excitement of the inquest and a real funeral, and widow's weed and more tear-blotched letters. She even sent a tear-blotched letter to Elizabeth, which I saw, saying that 'twenty years'it was really almost thirty 'of happy married life were over, both father and son were now happily united, and, whatever Mr. Winterbourne's faults, he was a gentleman! (Heavily underlined and followed by several exclamation marks, the insinuation being apparently that Elizabeth was no lady.) A month later Mrs. Winterbourne married the sheik alas! no sheik nowat a London registry office, whence they departed to Australia to live a clean sportin' life. Peace be with them boththey were too clean and sportin' for a corrupt and unclean Europe. (A.) C. Stylistic Devices Based on the Interaction Between the Logical and Emotive Meanings of a Word (1) Hyperbole 1. Differentiate between the traditional and the genuine hyperboles in the following examples. God, I cried buckets. I saw it ten times. (T. A.) "Her family is one aunt about a thousand years old." (Sc. F.) There were about twenty people at the party, most

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of whom I'hadn't met before. The girls were dressed to kill. (J. Br.) She was very much upset by the catastrophe that had befallen the Bishops, but it was exciting, and she was tickled to death to have someone fresh to whom she could tell all about it (S. M.) When she dropped her pose and smiled down she discovered Kennicott apoplectic with domestic pride . . (S.L.) Tom was conducted through a maze of rooms and labyrinths of passages. (D.) A worn tweed coat on her looked, he always thought, worth ten. times the painful finery of the village girls. (St.B.) One night some twenty years ago, during a siege of mumps in our enormous family my younger sister Fran-ny was moved, crib and all, into the ostensibly germ-free room I shared with my eldest brother Seymour. (S.) I hope, Cecily, I shall not offend you if I state quite frankly and openly that you seem to me to be in every way the visible personification of absolute perfection (O.W.) Across my every path, at every turn, go where I will, do what I may, he comes. (D.) ...he assured me that they had some (asparagus) so large, so splendid, so tender, that it was a wonder. (S. M.) II. State the nature of the exaggerated phenomenon (size, quantity, emotion, etc.). .. .he'll go to sleep, my God he should, eight martinis before dinner and enough wine to wash an elephant. (T. C.) You know how it is: you're 21 or 22 and you make some decisions: then whissh; you're seventy: you've been a lawyer for fifty years, and that white-haired lady at your side has eaten over fifty thousand meals with you. (Th. W.) All the other attractions, with organs out of num-ber and bands innumerable, emerged from the holes and corners in which they had passed the night. (D.) George Lomax, his eyes always protuberant, but now goggling almost out of his head, stared at the closed door (Ch.) The afternoon-bridge . . . was held at Juanita Hay

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dock's new concrete bungalow. Carol stepped into a sirocco of furnace heat. They were already playing. (S. L.) 6. A: Try and be a lady. G: Aijah! That's been said a hundred billion times. (Th. W.) .. .it is and will be for several hours the topic of the age, the feature of the century. (D.) This is Rome. Nobody has kept a secret in Rome for three thousand years. (I. Sh.) .. .said Bundle, after executing a fanfare upon the klaxon which must temporarily have deafened the neighbourhood. (Ch.) It's not a joke, darling. I want you to call him up and tell him what a genius Fred is. He's written barrels of the most marvellous stories. (T. C.) A team of horses couldn't draw her back now; the bolts and bars of the old Bastille couldn't keep her. (D.) And as he was capable of giant joy, so did he harbor huge sorrow, so that when his dog died, the world ended. (St.) .. .she has a nose that's at least three inches too long. (A. H.) III. Compare hyperbole and understatement. 1. (John Bidlake feels an oppression in the stomach after supper): "It must have been that caviar," he was thinking. "That beastly caviar." He violently hated caviar. Every sturgeon in the Black Sea was his personal enemy. (A.H.) .. .he was all sparkle and glitter in the box at the Opera (D.) "You remember that awful dinner dress we saw in Bonwit's window . . . She had it on. And all hips. She kept asking me. . ." (S.) Calpurnia was all angles and bones; her hand was as wide as a bed slat and twice as hard. (H. L.) This boy, headstrong, wilful, and disorderly as he is, should not have one penny of my money, or one crust of my bread, or one grasp of my hand, to save him from the loftiest gallows in all Europe. (D.) They were under a great shadowy train shed . . . with passenger cars all about and the train moving at a snail pace. (Dr.)

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She would recollect and for a fraction of a fractioin of a second she would think "Oh, yes, I remember," and build up an explanation on the recollection . . . (J. 0'H.) Her eyes were open, but only just. "Don't move the tiniest part of an inch." (S.) The little woman, for she was of pocket size, crossed her hands solemnly on her middle. (G.) IV. Analyse the following examples of developed hyperbole. 1. The fact is that while in the county they were also in the district; and no person who lives in the district, even if he should be old and have nothing to do but re-fleet upon things in general, ever thinks about the county. So far as the county goes, the district might as well be in the middle of the Sahara. It ignores the county, save that it uses it nonchalantly sometimes as leg-stretcher on holiday afternoons, as a man may use his back garden. It has nothing in common with the county; is richly suffi-cient in itself. (A. B.) In the intervening forty years Saul Pengarth had often been moved to anger; but what was in him now had room for thirty thousand such angers and all the thunder that had ever crackled across the sky. (M. W.) George, Sixth Viscount Uffenham, was a man built on generous lines. It was as though Nature had originally intended to make two Viscounts but had decided halfway through to use all the material at one go, and get the thing over with. In shape he resembled a pear, being reasonably narrow at the top but getting wider all the way down and culminating in a pair of boots of the outsize or violin-case type. Above his great spreading steppes of body there was poised a large and egglike head, the bald dome of which rose like some proud mountain peak from a foothill fringe of straggling hair. His upper lip was very long and straight, his chin pointed. (P. G. W.) Those three words 'Dombey and Son' conveyed the one idea of Mr. Dombey's life. The earth was made for Dombey and Son to trade in, and the sun and moon were made to give them light. Rivers and seas were formed to float their ships; rainbows gave them promise of fair weath- er; winds blew for or against their enterprises; stars and planets circled in their orbits to preserve a system of which they were the centre. Common abbreviations took new 42

meanings in his eyes and had sole reference to them: A. D. had no concern with Anno Domini, but stood for Anno Dombey and Son. (D.) 5. That was Lulamae and Fred. Well, you never saw a more pitiful something. Ribs sticking out everywhere, legs so puny they can't hardly stand, teeth wobbling so bad they can't chew much. (T. C.) (2) Epithet J. Discuss the structure of epithets. "Can you tell me what time that game starts today?" The girl gave him a lipsticky smile. (S.) The day was windless, unnaturally mild; since morning the sun had tried to penetrate the cloud, and now above the Mall, the sky was still faintly luminous, coloured like water over sand. (Hut.) Silent early morning dogs parade majestically pecking and choosing judiciously whereon to pee. (St.) The hard, chairs were the newlywed-suit kind often on show in the windows of shops. (K. A.) ... whispered the spinster aunt with true spinster-aunt-like envy . .. (D.) I closed my eyes, smelling the goodness of her sweat and the sunshine-in-the-breakfast-room smell of her lavender-water. (J. Br.) Stark stared at him reflectively, that peculiar about to laugh, about to cry, about to sneer expression on his face. (J.) Eden was an adept at bargaining, but somehow all his cunning left him as he faced this Gibraltar of a man. (E.D. B.) At his full height he was only up to her shoulder, a little driedup pippin of a man. (G.) 10. "Thief," Pilon shouted. "Dirty pig of an untrue friend." (St.) An ugly gingerbread brute of a boy with a revolting grin and as far as I was able to ascertain, no redeeming qualities of any sort. (P. G. W.) A breeze . . . blew curtains in and out like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding-cake of the ceiling. (Sc. F.)

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He wore proud boxing gloves of bandages for weeks after that. (St. B.) "I'd rather not know who did it. I'd rather not even think about it." "Ostrich," said her husband. (Ch.) "Fool! Idiot! Lunatic!" she protested vehemently. (P. G.W.) You shall pay me for the plague of having you eternally in my sight. Do you hear, damnable jade? (E. Br.) "Why, goddam you," Bloom screamed. "You dirty, yellow, sneaking, twofaced, lying, rotten Wop you," he said, "yellow little Wop." (J.) II. Classify the following into phrase-epithets and phraselogical attributes. . . .a lock of hair fell over her eye and she pushed it back with a tired, end-of-the-day gesture. (J. Br.) .. .he was harmless, only just twenty, with a snub nose and curly hair and an air of morning baths and early to bed and plenty of exercise. (J. Br.) You don't seem to have any trouble controlling yourself, do you?.. Not like poor old slobbery, heart-on-his-tongue Buster here, at all. (I. Sh.) He was an old resident of Seabourne, who looked after the penny-in-the-slot machines on the pier. (B. N.) The shot sent the herd off bounding wildly and leaping over one another's backs in long, leg-drawn-up leaps . . . (H.) She stopped at the door as if she'd been hit or as if a hundredmile-an-hour gale had sprung up and she were bracing herself against it. (J. Br.) His view is that a sermon nowadays should be a bright, brisk, straight-from-the-shoulder address, never lasting more than ten or twelve minutes. (P. G. W.) . . .the extravagant devil-may-care creatures he portrayed on the stage. (S. M.) "Uncle Wills looks at me all the time with a resigned 'I told you so' expression in his eyes, "he said impatiently. (D. du M.). So think first of her, but not in the "I love you so that nothing will induce me to marry you" fashion. (G.) Dave does a there-I-told-you-so look. (A. W.)

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45 She gave Mrs. Silsburn a you-know-how-men-are look. (S.) And one on either side of me the dogs crouched down with a move-if-you-dare expression in their eyes. (G,r.) .. They (wives) really got only a sense of self-preservation . . . everything else will be a foreign language to her. You know. Those innocent I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about eyes? (A. W.) III. Analyse the following string-epithets as to the length of the string and the quality of its components. She was hopefully, sadly, vaguely, madly longing for something better. (Dr.) The money she had accepted was two soft, green, handsome ten-dollar bills. (Dr.) "You're a scolding, unjust, abusive, aggravating, bad old creature!" cried Bella. (D.) Jack would have liked to go over and kiss her pure, polite, earnest, beautiful American forehead. (I. Sh.) "Now my soul, my gentle, captivating, bewitching, and most damnably enslaving chick-a-biddy, be calm, said Mr. Mantalini. (D.) It was an old, musty, fusty, narrow-minded, clean and bitter room. (R. Ch.) "You nasty, idle, vicious, good-for-nothing brute," cried the woman, stamping on the ground, "why don't you turn the mangle?" (D.) And he watched her eagerly, sadly, bitterly, ecstatically, as she walked lightly from him. . . (Dr.) ... There was no intellectual pose in the laugh that followed, ribald, riotous, cockney, straight from the belly. (D. du M.) Mrs. Bogart was not the acid type of Good Influence. She was the soft, damp, fat, sighing, indigestive, clinging, melancholy, depressingly hopeful kind. (S. L.) "A nasty, ungrateful, pig-headed, brutish, obstinate, sneaking dog," exclaimed Mrs. Squeers. (D.) .. .they thought themselves superior. And so did Eugenethe wretched creature!. The cheap, mean, nasty, selfish upstarts! Why, the majority of them had nothing.

IV. Pick out metaphorical epithets. The iron hate in Saul pushed him on again. He heard the man crashing off to his right through some bushes. The stems and twigs waved frantically with the frightened movement of the wind. (M. W.) She had received from her aunt a neat, precise, and circumstantial letter. (W. D.) There was an adenoidal giggle from Audrey. (St. B.) Liza Hamilton was a very different kettle of Irish. Her head was small and round and it held small and round convictions. (St.) He would sit on the railless porch with the men when the long, tired, dirty-faced evening rolled down the narrow valley, thankfully blotting out the streets of shacks, and listen to the talk. (J.) There was his little scanty travelling clothes upon him. There was his little scanty box outside in the shivering wind. (D.) His dry tailored voice was capable of more light and shade than Catherine had supposed (Hut.) All at once there is a goal, a path through the shapeless day. (A.M.) With his hand he shielded his eye against the harsh watty glare from the naked bulb over the table. (S.) V. Speak about morphological, syntactical and semantic characteristics of epithets. 1. "It ain't o' no use, Sir," said Sam, again and again. . "He's a malicious, bad-disposed, vordly-minded, spiteful, windictive creetur, with a hard heart as there ain't no soft' nin'." (D.) I pressed half a crown into his ready palm and left. (W. Q.) Maycomb was an old town, but it was a tired old town when I first knew it. (H. L.) He viewed with swift horror the pit into which he had tumbled, the degraded days, unworthy desires, wrecked faculties and base motives that made up his existence. (O.H.) Cecily, ever since I first looked at your wonderful

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and incomparable beauty, I have dared to love you wildly, passionately, devotedly, hopelessly. (O. W.) The noon sun is lighting up red woundlike stains on their surfaces ... (A. M.) He was young and small and almost as dark as a Negro, and there was a quick monkey-like roguishness to his face as he grabbed the letter, winked at Bibi and shut the door. (T. C.) . . . the open-windowed, warm spring nights were lurid with the party sounds, the loud-playing phonograph and martini laughter that emanated from Apartment 2. (T. C.) A spasm of high-voltage nervousness ran through him. (..) "Fool," said the old man bitingly. (Ch.) He had been called many thingsloan-shark, skinflint, tightwad pussyfootbut he had never before been called a flirt. (S. L.) VI. Suggest the object the quality of which was used in the following transferred epithets. He was a thin wiry man with a tobacco-stained smile. (. .) He sat with Daisy in his arms for a long silent time. (Sc. F.) There was a waiting silence as the minutes of the previous hearing were read. (M. W.) He drank his orange-juice in long cold gulps. (I.Sh.). The only place left was the deck strewn with nervous cigarette butts and sprawled legs. (J.) Leaving indignant suburbs behind them they finally emerged into Oxford Street. (Ch.) Nick smiled sweatily. (H.) She watched his tall quick step through the radiance of the corner streetlight. (St.) Lottie . . . retreated at once with her fat little steps to the safety of her own room. (Hut.) 10. . . .boys and young men . . . talking loudly in the concrete accents of the N. Y. streets. (I. Sh.) 11. In imagination he heard his father's rich and fleshy laugh. (A. H.)

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(3) Oxymoron 1. Discuss the structure of the following oxymorons. 1. They looked courteous curses at me. (St.) 2. He . . . caught a ride home to the crowded loneliness of the barracks.' (I. Sh.) 3. . . .he was certain the whites could easily detect his adoring hatred of them. (Wr.) It was an unanswerable reply and silence prevailed again. (D.) Her lips . . . were . . . livid scarlet. (S. M.) 6. The boy was short and squat with the broad ugly pleasant face of a Temne. (Gr. Gr.) 7. A very likeable young man, Bill Eversleigh. Age at a guess, twenty-five, big and rather ungainly in his movements, a pleasantly ugly face, a splendid set of white teeth and a pair of honest blue eyes. (Ch.) 8. From the bedroom beside the sleeping-porch, his wife's detestably cheerful "Time to get up, Georgie boy," . . . (S. L.) 9. The little girl who had done this was elevenbeautifully ugly as little girls are apt to be who are destined after a few years to be inexpressibly lovely . . . (Sc. F.) 10. Huck Finn and Holden Caulfield are Good Bad Boys of American literature. (V.) 11. . . .a neon sign which reads, "Welcome to Reno, the biggest little town in the world." (A. M.) 12. "Tastes like rotten apples," said Adam. "Yes, but remember, Jam Hamilton said like good rotten apples." (St.) 13. "It was you who made me a liar," she cried silently. (M.W.) 14. The silence as the two men stared at one another was louder than thunder. (U.) 15. I got down off that stool and walked to the door in a silence that was as loud as a ton of coal going down a chute. (R. Ch.) 16. I've made up my mind. If you're wrong, you're wrong-in the right way. (P.) 17. Heaven must be the hell of a place. Nothing but repentant sinners up there, isn't it? (Sh. D.) 18. Soapy walked eastward through a street damaged by improvements ... He seemed doomed to liberty! (. .) 48

II. Find original and trite oxymorons among the follow-ing. For an eternity of seconds, it seemed, the din was all but incredible. (S.) Of course, it was probably an open secret locally. (Ch.) She was a damned nice woman, too. (H.) He'd behaved pretty lousily to Jan. (D. C.) 5. . . .It's very tender, it's sweet as hell, the way the women wear their prettiest every thing. (. .) 6. Doc has the hands of a brain surgeon and a cool warm mind ... He was concupiscent as a rabbit and gentle as hell. (St.) D. Stylistic Devices Based on the Interaction Between the Free and Phraseological Meanings of a Word (Or Between the Meanings of Two Homonyms) (1) Zeugma I. State in which cases zeugma is created through the simultaneous realization of different meanings of a polysemantic word and in which through homonyms. His looks were starched, but his white neckerchief was not; and its long limp ends struggled over his closely-buttoned waistcoat in a very uncouth and unpicturesque manner. (D.) Gertrude found her aunt in a syncope from which she passed into an apostrophe and never recovered. (L.) There comes a period in every man's life, but she's just a semicolon in his. (Ev.) "Have you been seeing any spirits?" inquired the old gentleman. "Or taking any?" added Bob Allen. (D.) "Sally," said Mr. Bentley in a voice almost as low as his intentions, "let's go out to the kitchen." (Th. S.) 6. "Where did you pick up Dinny, Lawrence?" "In the street." "That sounds improper." (G.) 7. Jo: I'm going to unpack my bulbs. I wonder where I can put them. 4 53

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Helen: I could tell you. Jo: They're supposed to be left in a cool, dark place. Helen: That's where we all end up sooner or later. Still, it's no use worrying, is it? (Sh.D.) II. Classify the following into zeugmas and semantically false chains. Mr. Stiggins . . . took his hat and his leave. (D.) Disco" was working in all his shore dignity and a pair of beautiful carpet slippers. (R. K.) Mr. Trundle was in high feather and spirits ... All the girls were in tears and white muslin. (D.) She put on a white frock that suited the sunny riv-erside and her. (S. M.) The fat boy went into the next room; and having been absent about a minute, returned with the snuff-box and the palest face that ever a fat boy wore. (D.) She had her breakfast and her bath. (S. M.) Miss Bolo rose from the table considerably agitated, and went straight home in a flood of tears and a sedan chair. (D.) A young girl who had a yellow smock and a cold in the head that did not go on too well together, was helping an old lady . . . (P.) . . .the outside passengers . . . remain where they are, and stamp their feet against the coach to warm them looking with longing eyes and red noses at the bright fire in the inn bar. (D.) Cyrus Trask mourned for his wife with a keg of whisky and three old army friends. (St.) Its atmosphere and crockery were thick, its napery and soup were thin. (. .) Mr. Smangle was still engaged in relating a long story, the chief point of which appeared to be that, on some occasion particularly stated and set forth, he had "done" a bill and a gentleman at the same time. (D.) He struck off his pension and his head together. (D.) Sophia lay between blankets in the room overhead with a feverish cold. This cold and her new dress were Mrs. Baine's sole consolation at the moment. (A. B.) From her earliest infancy Gertrude had been] brought up by her aunt. Her aunt had carefully instructed 50

her to Christian principles. She had also taught her Mohammedanism to make sure. (L.) 16. . . .he's a hard man to talk to. Impossible if you don't share his fixations, of which Holly is one. Some others are: ice hockey, Weimaraner dogs, 'Our Gal Sunday' (a soap serial he has listened to for fifteen years), and Gilbert and Sullivanhe claims to be related to one or the other, I can't remember which. (T. C.) But she heard and remembered discussions of Freud, Romain Rolland, syndicalism, the Confederation Generale du Travail, feminism vs. haremism, Chinese lyrics, natural-ization of mines, Christian Science, and fishing in Onta-rio. (S. L.) Only at the annual balls of the Firemen . . . was there such prodigality of chiffon scarfs and tangoing and heart-burnings . . . (S. L.) Mrs. Dave Dyer, a sallow woman with a thin pret-tiness, devoted to experiments in religious cults, illnesses, and scandalbearing, shook her finger at Carol . . . (S. L.) His disease consisted of spots, bed, honey in spoons, tangerine oranges and high temperature. (G.) A Governess wanted. Must possess knowledge of Rumanian, Russian, Italian, Spanish, German, Music and Mining Engineering. (L.) (2) Pun I. Indicate cases when a pun is created through homonyms and when through different meanings of a polyseman-tic word. 1.. Lord G.:I am going to give you some good advice. Mrs. Ch.:.Oh! Pray don't. One should never give a wom-an anything that she can't wear in the evening. (O. W.) For a time she put a Red Cross uniform and met other ladies similarly dressed in the armory, where ban-dages were rolled and reputations unrolled. (St.) "Are you going to give me away?" she whispered. I looked surprised, though" I didn't feel surprised. "What is there to give away?" . "There's plenty, and you know it ... It worried me all last night." 4*

51

"I can't see that it matters," I said. "And as for giving you away, I wouldn't know what to give away or who ought to have it when it's given away. So let's drop the subject." (P.) 4. J.: . . .I'm starting work on Saturday. H.: Oh, yes, she's been called to the bar. P.: What sort of a bar? J.: The sort you're always propping up. I'm carrying on the family traditions. (Sh. D.) 5. Did you hit a woman with a child? No, Sir, I hit her with a brick. (Th. S.) It rained during the USUSSR match at summit level in Moscow. But it not only rained rain, it rained records. (D. W.) "I was such a lonesome girl until you came," she said. "There's not a single man in all this hotel that's half alive." "But I'm not a single man," Mr. Topper replied cautiously. "Oh, I don't mean that," she laughed. "And anyway I hate single men. They always propose marriage." (Th. S.) She always glances up, and glances down, and doesn't know where to look, but looks all the prettier. (D.) Alg.: . . .Besides, your name isn't Jack at all; it is Ernest. Jack.: It isn't Ernest; it's Jack. Alg.: You have always told me it was Ernest. I have introduced you to every one as Ernest. You look as if your name was Ernest. You are the most earnest-looking per-son I ever saw in my life. It is perfectly absurd your say ing that your name isn't Ernest. (O. W.) (3) Violation of Phraseological Units I. Discuss the manner in which a phraseological unit (or a compound word) is violated (prolongation, change of one of the components, etc.). "They're coming-the Antrobuses. Your hope. Your despair. Your selves." (Th. W.) Furthermore, the white man knows his history, knows himself to be a devil, and knows that his time is running out, and all his technology, psychology, science and "trick-

52

nology" are being expended in the effort to prevent black men from hearing the truth. (J. B.) 3. They got television, telephone, telegram, tell-a-woman, and tell-a-friend. (Wr.) . . You're incurable, Jimmy. A thousand pounds in the hand is worth a lot of mythical gold. (Ch.) . . .gorgeous Holly Golightly, twenty-year-old Hol-lywood starlet and highly publicized girl-about-New York. (T.C.) He finds time to have a finger or a foot in most things that happen round here. (J. L.) He remained sound to his monarchial principles, though he was reported to have his finger in all the back-stairs pies that went on in the Balkans. (Ch.) Little Jon was born with a silver spoon in his mouth which was rather curly and large. (G.) "Dear Adam: Forget not thy servants in the days of thy prosperity. Charles never spent a dime. He pinched a dollar until the eagle screamed." (St.) It was toward evening, and I saw him on my way out to dinner. He was arriving in a taxi; the driver helped him totter into the house with a load of suitcases. That gave me something to chew on: by Sunday my jaws were quite tired. (T. C.) Another person who makes both ends meet is the infant who sucks his toes. (E.) The young lady who burst into tears has been put together again. (D.) The only exercise some women get is running up bills. (E.) EXERCISES FOR GENERAL STYLISTIC ANALYSIS* She bought a budget-plan account book and made her budgets as exact as budgets are likely to be when they lack budgets. (S. L.) Chancing to look from an upper window Ruth saw a suggestive thing happen. The Union Jack went fluttering * In exercises for general stylistic analysis the main task is not so much to recognize and identify corresponding lexical SD, as to-mate aim. 53

up the flagstaff of the Imperial Hotel, and undulated lan-guidly under the cap of gold. (W. D.) 3. Main Street is the climax of civilization. That this Ford car might stand in front of the Bon Ton Store, Hannibal invaded Rome and Erasmus wrote in Oxford cloisters. What Ole Johnson the grocer says to Ezra Stowbody the banker is the new law for London, Prague, and the unprofitable isles of the sea; whatsoever Ezra does not know and sanction, that thing is heresy, worthless for knowing and wicked to consider. Our railway station is the final aspiration of architec-ture. Sam Clark's annual hardware turn-over is the envy of the four counties which constitute God's Country. (S. L.) Everybody knew and admitted that nothing save the scorpions of absolute necessity, or a tremendous occasion such as that particular morning's would drive Cyril from his bed until the smell of bacon rose to him from the kit-chen. (A. B.) That fellow is, and his father was, and his grand-father was, the most stiff-necked, arrogant, imbecile, pig-headed numskull ever . . . born! (D.) About this time Hazzard's scheme of life became a circle instead of a figure with jagged edges, the globe instead of the jigsaw puzzle, satisfying and shapely. (W. D.) Mrs. Nupkins was a majestic female in a pink gauze turban and a light brown wig. Miss Nupkins possessed all her mamma's haughtiness without the turban, and all her ill-nature without the wig; and whenever the exercise of these two amiable qualities involved mother and daughter in some unpleasant dilemma . . . (D.) "We can hear him coming. He's got a tread like a rhinoceros ...".. .Before I reached the bottom (of the stairs) I heard footsteps adequately rhinoceros-like some-where close at hand . . . And punctually there sounded, from round a corner of the passage, the tread of a rhinoce-ros coming to answer the petition. (K. A.) "Mrs. Squeers, Sir," replied the proprietor of Dothe... boys, "is as she always isa mother to them lads, and a blessing, and a comfortand a joy to all them as knows her. She dotes on poetry, sir; she adores itI may say that her whole soul and mind are wound up and entwined with it." (D.) 54

The Matron of Honor nodded, and once again brought the megaphone of her mouth up close to the old man's ear. (S.) My mind ... is full of indignation to-night, after undergoing the ordeal of consigning to the tomb the remains of a faithful, a zealous, a devoted adherent. (D.) "It's a gathering," said Bill, looking round. "One French detective by window, one English ditto by fireplace. Strong foreign element. The Stars and Stripes don't seem to be represented?" (Ch.) All the ashtrays in sight were in full blossom with crumpled facial tissues and lipsticked cigarette ends. (S.) But, quick as she is, a certain stilled inwardness lies coiled in her gaze. (A. M.) Slowly, inch by inch, with the pain shouting mutely from his livid face, he raised himself... (I. Sh.) . . .he actually could see stars, pale and small, in the thin corridor of heaven visible over the street. (I. Sh.) Calgary's first impression of Leo Argyle was that he was so attenuated, so transparent, as hardly to be there at all. A wraith of a man! (Ch.) She was a widow, and a Prominent Baptist, and a Good Influence. (S. L.) Raincoats, of two kindsthe rubberized kind that absorbs the water like a blotter, and the slicker kind that shed both air and water until the wearer was so bathed in sweat he might as well have worn the other kind, appeared from out of hiding in the combat packs hung on each bedfoot. (J.) Sometime in February, Holly had gone on a winter trip . . . Our altercation happened soon after she returned. She was brown as iodine, her hair was sun-bleached to a ghost-color, she'd had a wonderful time . . . (T. C.) This is the most vital, amazing stirring, goofy, thrilling country in the world, and I care about it in a Big Way. (E.F.) If you can wade through a few sentences of malice, meanness, falsehood, perjury, treachery, and cant . . . you will, perhaps, be somewhat repaid by a laugh at the style of this ungrammatical twaddler. (D.) 23. For nowadays whenever she pulled out from the station and got her train fairly started on one of those 55

horizonless transcontinental sentences of hers, it was borne in upon me that I was standing in the awful presence of the Mother of the Germanic language. (M. T.) 24. "What part of Brooklyn you come from;" Prew grinned. The dark intent eyes under the hairy brows flared up as if Prew had lighted candles in a dim cathedral. "Atlantic Avenue. You know Brooklyn?" "No. I was never there. But I had a buddy at Myer was from Brooklyn."The candles were snuffed out. "Oh," Maggio said. (J.)It was a faithless, treasonable door. It was ready to betray you and your secrets. (W. D.) With every kindly sympathy and affection blasted in its birth, with every young and healthy feeling flogged and starved down with every revengeful passion that can fester in swollen hearts, eating its evil way-to their core in silence, what an incipient Hell was bleeding there! (D.) . . .he would have to wait at the bar in a forest of mudsplattered trouserlegs until all the rank brawling, mouths of grown-ups had been stopped with beers and whis-keys. (J. D. P.) He wasn't without an eye for a picture and an ear for music; he had an acquaintance with some of the fa-mous old stuff in both these arts. (P.) Shining serenely as some immeasuarable mirror be-neath the smiling face of heaven, the solitary ocean lay in unrippled silence. (Fr. B.) Breshananyou knowthe famous auto manufac-turerhe comes from Gopher Prairie. Born and brought up there! And it's a darn pretty town. Lots of fine maples and box-elders, and there's two of the dandiest lakes you ever saw, right near town. (S. L.) Things were harder than ever for a working man, and as for Jimmy Thomas, he had sold himself, lock, stock, and barrel, to the capitalists. (D. S.) "No message," said the waitress brusquely. Then with a cynical smile of her black raisin eyes: "Out of sight, out of mindn'est ce pas!" With a sly backward glance she walked off. (. .) "Well, idiot," she said, and playfully slapped me with her purse. "I'm in too much of a hurry to make up now. We'll smoke the pipe tomorrow, okay!" (. .) Excuse me, Sir; the tongue breaks no bone, Sir. All 56

Governments are bad, and the worst Government is the best. . C.) Walt was grizzled, fiftyish, with the prideful face of railroad engineers. It was sterner than the faces of pa-per-mill workers seamed, hardbitten, tough and gentle . . . His eyes, behind the steel-rimmed specs, were keen as a seaman's, but without the cold remote look of the sailor's eye. His long-visored cap, his striped overalls, he wore with an air that strangely dignified these nondescript gar-ments. (E. F.) Damages, gentlemenheavy damages is the only punishment with which you can visit him . . . And for those damages she now appeals to an enlightened, a high-minded, a right-feeling, a conscientious, a dispassionate, a sympathising, a contemplative jury of her civilized count-rymen. (D.) 37. Sleep navigates the tides of time: The dry Sargasso of the tomb Gives up its dead to such a working sea; And sleep rolls mute above the beds Where fishes' food is fed the shades Who periscope through flowers to the sky. (D. Th.) In the succeeding weeks George's death was the source of other, almost unclouded, joys to Mrs. Winter-bourne. She pardonedtemporarilythe most offending of her enemies to increase the number of artistically tear-blotched letters of bereavement she composed. Quite a few of the near:gentry, who usually avoided Mrs. Winterbourne as a particularly virulent specimen of the human scorpion, paid callsvery brief callsof condolence. Even the Vicar appeared and was treated with effusive sweetness . . .(A.) It was a hot July afternoon, the world laid out open to the sun to admit its penetration. All nature seemed swollen to its fullest. The very air was half asleep, and the distant sounds carried so slowly that they died away be-fore they could reach their destination; or perhaps the ear forgot to listen. The house, too, had indulged itself, and had lost a little its melancholy air. The summer decked it with garlands, for the still newly-green creepers crept up the walls and on to the roof, almost high enough to gain the chimney-pots. But the house held them like hats, carefully out of reach, and the creepers, snubbed, pried into the open windows. 57

The smooth lawns lay tantalizingly about, just out of the way of the blundering clumsy house kept prisoner by the chain of gravel. The lawn, a green-clad monster, arched its back against the yew hedge, and put out emerald feelers all through the garden and turfed alley-ways. (B.D.) Of course, it had to occur on a Thursday afternoon. The season was summer, suitable for pale and fragile toi-lettes. And theeight children who sat around Aunt Har-riet's great table glittered like the sun. Not Constance's specially provided napkins could hide that wealth and pro-fusion of white lace and stitchery. Never in after-life are the genteel children of the Five Towns so richly clad as at the age of four or five years. Weeks of labour, thousands of cubic feet of gas, whole nights stolen from repose, eye-sight, and general health will disappear into the manufac-ture of a single frock that accidental jam may ruin in ten seconds. Thus it was in those old days, and thus it is today. (A. B.) . . .Isolde the Slender had suitors in plenty to do her slightest hest. Feats of arms were done daily for her sake. To win her, love suitors were willing to vow themselves to perdition. For Isolde's sake Otto the Otter had cast himself into the sea. Conrad the Cocoanut had hurled himself from the high-est battlement of the castle head first into the mud. Hugo the Hopeless had hanged himself by the wristband to a hickory tree and had refused all efforts to dislodge him. For her sake Siegfried the Susceptible had swallowed sulphuric acid. But Isolde the Slender was heedless of the court thus paid to her. (L.) 42. I am always drawn back to places where I have lived, the houses and their neighbourhoods. For instance, there is a brownstone in the East Seventies where, during the early years of the war, I had my first New York apartment. It was one room crowded with attic furniture, a sofa and fat chairs upholstered in that itchy, particular red velvet.that one associates with hot days on a train. The walls were stucco, and a color rather like tobacco-spit. Everywhere, in the bathroom too, there were prints of Roman ruins freckled brown with age. The single window looked out on the fire escape. Even so, my spirits heightened whenever I felt in my pocket the key to this apart58

ment; despite all its gloom, it was still a place of my own, the first, and my books were there, and jars of pencils to sharpen, everything I needed, so I felt, to become the writer I wanted to be. (T. C.) 43. He leaned his elbows on the porch ledge and stood looking down through the screens at the familiar scene of the barracks square laid out below with the tiers of porches dark in the faces of the three-story concrete barracks fronting on the square. He was feeling, a half-sheepish affection for his vantage point that he was leaving. Below him under the blows of the February Hawaiian sun the quadrangle gasped defencelessly, like an exhausted fighter. Through the heat haze and the thin midmorning film of the parched red dust came up a muted orchestra of sounds: the clanking of steel-wheeled carts bouncing over brick, the slappings of oiled leather sling-straps, the shuf-fling beat of scorched shoesoles, the hoarse expletive of irritated noncoms. (J.) He might almost have been some other man dream-ing recurrently that he was an electrical engineer. On the other side of the edge, waiting for him to peer into it late at night or whenever he was alone and the show of work had stopped, was illimitable unpopulated darkness, a green-land night; and only his continuing heart beats kept him from disappearing into it. Moving along this edge, doing whatever the day demanded, or the night offered, grimly observant (for he was not without fortitude), he noticed much that has escaped him before. He found he was attending a comedy, a show that would have been very funny indeed if there had been life outside the theatre instead of darkness and dissolution. (P.) From that day on, thundering trains loomed in his dreams, hurtling, sleek, black monsters whose stack pipes belched gobs of serpentine smoke, whose seething fireboxes coughed out clouds of pink sparks, whose pushing pistons sprayed jets of hissing steam, panting trains that roared yammeringly over farflung, gleaming rails only to come to limp and convulsive haltslong, fearful trains that were hauled brutally forward by red-eyed locomotives that you loved watching as they (and you trembling) crashed past (and you longing to run but finding your feet strangely glued to the ground . . .) (Wr.) This constant succession of glasses produced consid59

erable effect upon Mr. Pickwick; his countenance beamed with the most sunny smiles, laughter played around his lips, and good-humorous merriment twinkled in his . Yielding by degrees to the influence of the exciting liquid rendered more so by the heat, Mr. Pickwick expressed a strong desire to recollect a song which he had heard in his infancy, and the attempt proving abortive, sought to stimu-late his memory with more glasses of punch, which ap-peared to have quite a contrary effect; for, from forgetting the words of the song, he began to forget how to articulate any words at all; and finally, after rising to his legs to address the company in an eloquent speech, he fell into the barrow, and fast asleep, simultaneously. (D.) 47. The high grey-flannel fog of winter closed off the Salinas Valley from the sky and from all the rest of the world. On every side it sat like a lid on the mountains and made of the great valley a closed pot. On the broad, level land floor the gang plows bit deep and left the black earth shining like metal where the shares had cut. On the foothill ranches across the Salinas River, the yellow stub-ble fields seemed to be bathed in pale cold sunshine, but there was no sunshine in the valley now in December. The thick willow scrub along the river flamed with sharp and positive yellow leaves. It was a time of quiet and of waiting. The air was cold and tender. A light wind blew up from the southwest so that the farmers were mildly hopeful of a good rain before long; but fog and rain do not go together. (St.) 48. I spent the next three days there, in Margaret's house, oscillating between a temperature and a temper. When my temperature came down, my temper rose. This was partly due to the fact that I objected to staying in bed. But the nurse they installed had something to do with it. She may have been a good nurse, but as a companion she was poison. She was a large redhaired woman with a lot of teeth and freckles, and she treated me as if I was a spoilt darling about ten years old. With the least encourage ment she'd have read some jolly tale for the bairns to me. She tried to stop me smoking but I won the Battle. But with the help of Margaret, she did prevent anybody getting in there to see me and offer me a little adult conversation. Then, again, Margaret was now just the doc tor in charge of the case. So when the temperature came 60

down, I thrashed about and growled, and was told not to be naughty by that red-headed monster. (P.) 49. Gopher Prairie was digging in for the winter. Through late November and all December it snowed daily; the thermometer was at a zero and might drop to twenty below, or thirty. Winter is not a season in North Middlewest; it is an industry. Storm sheds were erected at every door. In every block the householders, Sam Clark, the wealthy Mr. Dawson, all save asthmatic Ezra Stowbody, who extravagantly hired a boy, were seen perilously staggering up ladders, carrying storm windows and screwing them to second-story jambs. While Kennicott put up his windows Carol danced inside the bedrooms and begged him not to swallow the screws, which he held in his mouth like an extraordinary set of false teeth. The universal sign of winter was the town handyman- -Miles Bjornstam, a tall, thick, red-moustached bachelor, opinionated atheist, general-store arguer, cynical Santa Claus. Children loved him, and he sneaked away from work to tell them improbable stories of sea-faring and horse-trading and bears. The children's parents either laughed at him or hated him. He was the one democrat- in town. (S.L.) The hands of all four thousand electric clocks in all the Bloomsbury Centre's four thousand rooms marked twenty-seven minutes past two. "This hive of industry," as the Director was fond of calling it, was in the full buzz of work. Everyone was busy, everything in ordered motion. Under the microscopes, their long tails furiously lashing, spermatozoa were burrowing head first into eggs; and, fertilized, the eggs were expanding, dividing, or if boka-novskified, budding and breaking up into whole populations of separate embryos. From the Social Predestination Room the escalators went rumbling down into the basement, and there, in the crimson darkness, stewingly warm on their cushion of peritoneum and gorged with blood-surro-gate and hormones, the foetuses grew and grew or, poi-soned languished into a stunted Epsilonhood. With a faint hum and rattle the moving racks crawled imperceptibly through the weeks and the recapitulated aeons to where, in the Decanting Room, the newly unbottled babes uttered their first yell of horror and amazement. (A. H.) It was a marvellous day in late August, and Wim61

sey's soul purred within him as he pushed the car along. The road from Kirkcud bright to Newton-Stuart is of a varied loveliness hard to surpass, and with the sky full of bright sun and rolling cloud-banks, hedges filled with flowers, a well-made road, a lively engine and a prospect of a good corpse at the end of it, Lord Peter's cup of happiness was full. He was a man who loved simple pleasures. He passed through Gatehouse, waving a cheerful hand to the proprietor of Antwoth Hotel, climbed up beneath the grim blackness of Cardoness Castle, drank in for the thousandth time the strange, Japanese beauty of Mossyard Farm, set like a red jewel under its tufted trees on the blue sea's rim, and the Italian loveliness of Kirkdale, with its fringe of thin and twisted trees and the blue coast gleam-ing across the way. (D. S.) 52. The two transports had sneaked up from the South in the first graying flush of dawn, their cumbersome mass cutting smoothly through the water whose still greater mass bore them silently, themselves as gray as the dawn which camouflaged them.'

Now, in the fresh early morning of a lovely tropic day they lay quietly at anchor in the channel, nearer to the one island than to the other which was only a cloud on the horizon. To their crews, this was a routine mission and one they knew well: that of deliver-ing fresh reinforcement troops. But to the men who com-prised the cargo of infantry this trip was neither routine nor known and was composed of a mixture of dense anxiety and tense excitement. (J.) 53. Around noon the last shivering wedding guest arrived at the farmhouse; then for all the miles around nothing moved on the galehaunted moorsneither carriage, wagon, nor human figure. The road wound emptily over the low hills. The gray day turned still colder, and invisible clouds of air began to stir slowly in great icy swaths, as if signalling some convulsive change beyond the sky. From across the downs came the boom of surf against the island cliffs. Within an hour the sea wind rose to a steady moan, and then within the next hour rose still more to become a screaming ocean of

air. Ribbons of shouted laughter and musicwild waltzes and reelsstreamed thinly from the house, but all the wedding sounds were engulfed, drowned and then lost in

the steady roar of the gale. Finally, at three o'clock, spits of snow became a steady swirl of white that obscured the landscape more thoroughly than any fog that had ever rolled in from the sea. (MW.) 54. There is no month in the whole year, in which nature wears a more beautiful appearance than in the month of August; Spring has many beauties, and May is a fresh and blooming month, but the charms of this time of year are enhanced by their contrast with the winter season. August has no such advantage. It comes when we remem-ber nothing but clear skies, green fields, and sweetsmelling flowerswhen the recollection of snow, and ice, and bleak winds, has faded from our minds as completely as they have disappeared from the earthand yet what a pleasant time it is. Orchards and cornfields ring with the hum of labour; trees bend beneath the thick clusters of rich fruit which bow their branches to the ground; and the corn, piled in graceful sheaves, or waving in every light breath that sweeps above it, as if it wooed the sickle, tinges the land-scape with a golden hue. A mellow softness appears to hang over the whole earth; the influence of the season seems to extend

itself to the very wagon, whose slow mo-tion across the well-reaped field is perceptible only to the eye, but strikes with no harsh sound upon the ear. (D.) II. guide TO SYNTACTICAL STYLISTIC DEVICES Syntactical SD deal with the syntactical arrangement of the utterance which creates the emphasis of the latter irrespective of the lexical meanings of the employed units. It should be observed here that oral speech is normatively more emphatic than the written type of speech. Various syntactical structures 6

deliberately employed by- the author as SD for the creation of the proper effect, in oral speech are used automatically as a norm of oral intercourse and are not to be considered SD. But when these syntactical oral norms are intentionally imitated by the writer to produce the effect of authenticity and naturalness of dia-logue we may speak of his preliminary deliberate choice of the most suitable structures and of their preconceived usage, i. e. syntactical norms of oral speech, interpreted and arranged by the writer, become SD in belles-lettres 6

style. Though, while analysing them we should always keep in mind that their employment as SD is secondary to their normative usage in oral speech and that their pri-mar function as SD is to convey the effect of ease and naturalness of the characters' speech. Depending upon the part of the syntactical structure that is endowed with contextual meaning to create the emphasis of the whole structure we differentiate the following syntactical SD: (1) Inversion deals with the displacement of the predicate (which is the case complete inversion) or with the displacement of secondary members of the sentence (which is the case of partial inversion) and their shift into the front, opening position in the sentence. The structure of questions as we know, is character-ized by -the grammatically inverted word order. If direct word order is re-established in questions, we can speal of secondary inversion (i. e. inversion of inversion). Thus inverted questions (i. e. questions with direct word order) beyond conveying the tone and manner of the speaker also due to the changed structure, acquire the connotationai meaning of the questioner's awareness of the possible nature of the expected answer. Rhetorical question, which is the statement in the form of a question, also presupposes the possible (though not demanded) answer: the positive form of the rhetorical question predicts the negative answer, the negative form-the positive answer. Apokoinu construction, characteristic of irregulars oral speech, presents a blend of two clauses into one, which is achieved at the expense of the omission of the connecting word and the double syntactical function acquired by the unit occupying the linking position between both former clauses: thus, "I'm the first one saw her," presents the blend of the complex sentence "I'm the first one who saw her." Due to its contraction into the apokoinu construction syntactical functions of "the first one"predicative of the first clause, and "who"subject of the second oneare both attributed to "the first one" which becomes the syn-tactical centre of the newly coined sentence. The main stylistic function of apokoinu constructions is to emphasize the irregular, careless or uneducated charac-ter of the speech of personages. 64

In ellipsis-, which is the omission of one of the main members of a sentence, we must differentiate the one used in the author's narration to change its tempo and condense its structure from the one used in personages' speech to reflect the oral norms and create the effect of naturalness and authenticity of the dialogue. Through detachment secondary members of the sentence acquire independent stress and intonation which leads to their emphatic intensification. The effect is the strongest if detached members are isolated from the rest of the sentence by full stops. Sudden break in the narration, or aposiopesis, is a norm of excited oral speech. As a SD it is used to indi-cate strong emotions paralyzing the character's speech or his deliberate stop in the utterance to conceal its meaning. Certain phrases, often repeated with the intonation of the nonfinished sentence, become trite aposiopeses. They indi-cate that the speaker's idea of the possible continuation of the utterance exists in a very general, non-detailed, vague form. (Cf. "Well, I never!" reads approximately "Well, I never expected it"; "I never thought of it"; "I never imag-ined it", etc.) Suspense, holding the reader or the listener in tense anticipation, is often realized through the separation of predicate from subject or from predicative, by the delib-erate introduction between them of a phrase, clause or sen-tence (frequently parenthetic). The function and impact of repetition depends upon the position occupied by the repeated unit. Thus, ordinary repetition offers no fixed place for the re-peated unit aa . . ., . .a. . ., a. a., .aaa. ., . . .a., etc. anaphora models differently: a. . ., a. . . ., a , a. , . epiphora: . . .a, a, . .a, ... .a. framing: a. . .a, b b. anadiplosis (catch repetition) . . .a, a. . . . chain repetition . . .a, a. . ,b, b. . . ., . . .d, d. . . . We should not forget also morphological repetition when (mainly to achieve humorous effect) a morpheme is repeated. (9) Repetition, involving the whole structure of the sentence is called parallelism and is differentiated into com5 53 65

plete parallelism, presenting identical structures of two or more successive clauses or sentences, and partial paralle-lism, in which the repeated sentence-pattern may vary. Chiasmus is also called reversed parallelism, for into its pattern two sentences are included, of which the second necessarily repeats the structure of the first, only in reversed manner, so that the general formula of chias-mus may be fixed as follows: SPO, OPS. Polysyndeton is also a kind of repetitionhere conjunctions or connecting words are repeated. The repeti-tion of "and", e. g., mainly creates the atmosphere of bustl-ing activity; therepetition of "or" serves either to stress equal importance of enumerated factors or to emphasize the validity of the indicated phenomenon regardless of its varying denominations by various parties concerned, etc. (12) Asyndeton, like polysyndeton, is a type of syn- tactical connection but unlike polysyndeton, offers no con-junctions or connecting words for this purpose. Hence the difference in functions: asyndeton is used mostly to in-dicate tense, energetic, organized activities or to show a succession of minute, immediately following each other ac-tions. Opening the story (the passage, the chapter), asyn-deton helps to give a laconic and at the same time a detailed introduction into the action proper. EXERCISES (1) Inversion I. Analyse the following cases of complete and partial inversion. State the difference between inversion in interro-gative and affirmative sentences. Out came the chaisein went the horseson sprung the boys in got the travellers. (D.) Up came the file and down sat the editor, witll Mr. Pickwick at his side. (D.) Women are not made for attack. Wait they must. (J.C.) And she saw that Gopher Prairie was merely an en-largement of all the hamlets which they had been passing. Only to the eyes of a Kennicott was it exceptional. (S. L.) . . .Calm and quiet below me in the sun and shade lay the old house . , . (D.)

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6. "Benny Gollan, a respected guy, Benny Gollan wants to marry her." "An agent could ask for more?" (T. C.) Then he said: "You think it's so? She was mixed up in this lousy business?" (J. H.) "Her sickness is only grief?" he asked, his difficult English lending the question an unintended irony. "She is grieving only?" . . . "She is only grieving?" insisted Jose. (. .) How have I implored and begged that man to in-quire into Captain's family connections; how have I urged and entreated him to take some decisive step. (D.) 10. Gay and merry was the time; and right gay and merry were at least four of the numerous hearts that were gladdened by its coming. (D.) (2) Rhetorical Question I. Discuss the nature and functions of the following rhetori-cal questions. Gentleness in passion! What could have been more seductive to the scared, starved heart of that girl? (J. C.) Why do we need refreshment, my friends? Because we are but mortal, because we are but sinful, because we are but of the earth, because we are not of the air? Can we fly, my friends? We cannot. Why can we not fly? Is it be-cause we are calculated to walk? (D.) What courage can withstand the everduring and all besetting terrors of a woman's tongue? (W. I.) But what words shall describe the Mississippi, great father of rivers, who (praise be to Heaven), has no young children like him? (D.) 5. Dark Sappho! could not verse immortal save That breast imbued with such immortal fire? Could she not live who life eternal gave? (B.) 6. How should a highborn lady be known from a sunburnt milk-maid, save that spears are broken for the one, and only hazelpoles shattered for the other? (W. Sc.) 7. . . .but who would scorn the month of June, Because December, with his breath so hoary,. Must come? (B.) 8. Who will be open where there is no sympathy, or has call to speak to those who never can understand? (Th.) 67

9. Wouldn't we all do better not trying to understand, accepting the fact that no human being will ever under-stand another, not a wife a husband, a lover a mistress, nor a parent a child? (Gr. Gr.) (3) Apokoinu Construction I. Indicate the type of complex sentences contracted into the following apokoinu constructions. Suggest conjunc-tions and connecting words which might have joined for-mer clauses. I'm the first one saw her. (. .) It was I was a father to you. (S. B.) He's the one makes the noise at night. (H.) He would show these bums who it was kept them fed. (J.) It was Sponge told Bruce who was in the car. (Sh.A.) I didn't transfer. I was transferred. It was Houston did it because I spoke my piece. (J.) There's no one enjoys good food more than he does. (S. M.) You'd be surprised at the times we do get our man-sometimes after several years. It's patience does itpa-tience and never letting up. (Ch.) It was then he took the plunge. (S. B.) I love Nevada. Why, they don't even have mealtimes here. I never met so many people didn't own a watch. (A. M.) There was a door led into the kitchen. (Sh.A.) There was no breeze came through the door. (H.) Everyone found him attractive. It was his temper let him down. (Ch.) It was then he met Stella. (S. M.) There was a whisper in my family that it was love drove him out, and not love of the wife he married. (St.) (4) Ellipsis and One-M ember Sentence I. Discuss the nature of the following elliptical and ona-member sentences. 1. Fast asleepno passion in the face, no avarice, no anxiety, no wild desire; all gentle, tranquil, and at peace. (D.)

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2. "I'll go, Doll! I'll go!" This from Bead, large eyes larger than usual behind his horn-rimmed glasses. (J.) 3. . . .the girl was washing the glasses. The establishment boasted four; we do not record the circumstance as at all derogatory to Mrs. Raddle . . . (D.) 4. There was only a little round window at the Bitter Orange Company. No waiting-roomnobody at all except a girl, who came to the window when Miss Moss knocked, and said: "Well?" (. .) 5. Pain and discomfortthat was all the future held. And meanwhile ugliness, sickness, fatigue. (A. H.) 6. A poor boy ... No father, no mother, no any one. (D.) 7. I'm afraid you think I'm conservative. I am. So much to conserve. All this treasure of American ideals. Sturdiness and democracy and opportunity. Maybe not at Palm Beach. But, thank heaven, we're free from such social distinctions in Gopher Prairie. (S. L.) 8. Not that I give a hoot about jewelry. Diamonds, yes. But it's tacky to wear diamonds before you're forty; and even that's risky. They only look right on the really old girls. Maria Ouspenskaya. Wrinkles and bones, white hair and diamonds. (T. C.) 9. Inspector Badgworthy in his office. Time, 8.30 a.m. A tall portly man, Inspector Badgworthy, with a heavy regulation tread. Inclined to breathe hard in moments of professional strain. In attendance Constable Johnson, very new to the Force, with a downy unfledged look about him, like a human chicken. (Ch.) 10. We have never been readers in our family. It don't pay. Stuff. Idleness. Folly. No, no! (D.) 11. A black February day. Clouds hewn of ponderous timber weighing down on the earth; an irresolute dropping of snow specks upon the trampled wastes. Gloom but no veiling of angularity. The lines of roofs and sidewalks sharp and inescapable. The second day of Kennicott's absence . . . (S. L.) 12. A dark gentleman ... A very bad manner. In the last degree constrained, reserved, diffident, troubled. (D.) 13. And we got down at the bridge. White cloudy sky, with mother-of-pearl veins. Pearl rays shooting through, green and bluu-white. River roughed by a breeze. White as 69

a new file in the distance. Fishwhite streak on the smooth pin-silver upstream. Shooting new pins. (J. C.) 14. "What sort of a place is Dufton exactly?" "A lot oimills. And a chemical factory. And a Grammar school and a memorial and a river that runs different col-ours each day. And a cinema and fourteen pubs. That's really all one can say about it." (J. Br.) 15. "Good-night. Mr. Povey. I hope you'll be able to sleep." Constance's voice! "It will probably come on again." Mr. Povey's voice pessimistic! Then the shutting of doors. It was almost dark, (A. B.) 16. "Them big-assed folks is dumb!" Emphatic judgement. "Dumb ain't no word for 'em! They just like us, but they too damned mean to admit it!" Hilarious agreement. "They scared to death of us. They know if they give us half a chance, we'd beat 'em!" Uttered with sage confi-dence . . . "Fish, you so quiet and wise." A memorized smile. "I didn't want to mess up my plans with no trouble with white folks." A

spontaneous lie . "Gee, Fish, you lucky." Crooned admiration. "Aw, that's nothing." Hinting at undisclosed marvels. (Wr.) II. State the functions of the following ellipses. Indicate most frequently omitted members of the sentence. And if his feelings about the war got known, he'd be nicely in the soup. Arrested, perhapsgot rid of, somehow. (A.) He is understood to be in want of witnesses, for the Inquest tomorrow ... Is immediately referred to innu-merable people who can tell nothing whatever. Is made more imbecile by being constantly informed that Mrs. Green's son "was a law-writer hisself. . ." (D.) What happiness was'ours that day, what joy, what rest, what hope, what gratitude, what bliss! (D.) "I have noticed something about it in the papers. Heard you mention it once or twice, now I. come to think of it." (B. S.h.) "Very windy, isn't it?" said Strachan, when the si-lence had lasted some time.

"Very," said Wimsey. "But it's not raining," pursued Strachan "Not yet," said Wimsey. "Better than yesterday," said Strachan . "Tons better. Really you know, you'd think they'd turned on the water-works yesterday on purpose to spoil my sketching party." "Oh, well," said Strachan. "How long have you been on that?" "About an hour," said Strachan. (D. S.) 6. "Where mama?" "She home," his father breathed. (Wr.) 7. "What you think, Fish?" Zeke asked with an aloof smile.. "Zeke, you a dog and I kind of believe you," Fishbelly said. (Wr.) 8. "She one of you family or something?" "Who, the one downstairs? No, she's called Mrs. Davies." (K. A.) 9. "Our father is dead." "I know." 70

"How the hell do you know?" "Station agent told me. How long ago did he die?" '"Bout a month." "What of?" "Pneumonia." "Buried here?" "No. In Washington. . ." (St.) (5) Detachment I.Classify the following isolated members according to their syntactical function. Discuss the punctuation used to isolate the detached members and their distribution in the sentence. Each of them carried a notebook, in which whenever the great man spoke, he desperately scribbled. Straight from the horse's mouth. (A. H.) She narrowed her eyes a trifle at me and said I looked exactly like Celia Briganza's boy. Around the mouth. (S.)

And life would move slowly and excitingly. With much laughter and much shouting and talking and much drinking and much fighting. (P. A.) "How do you like the Army?" Mrs. Silsburn asked. Abruptly, conversationally. (S.) He is alert to his fingertips. Little muffs, silver gar-ters, fringed gloves draw his attention; he observes with a keen quick glance, not unkindly, and full rather of amu-sement than of censure. (V. W.) Despiere had been nearly killed, ingloriously, in a jeep accident. (I. Sh.) A hawk, serene, flows in the narrowing circles above. (A.M.) The people are awful this year. You should see what sits next to us in the dining room. At the next table. They look as if they drove down in a truck. (S.) I have to beg you for money. Daily! (S. L.) And he stirred it with his penin vain. (. .) And Fleurcharming in her jade-green wrapper-tucked a corner of her lip behind a tooth, and went' back to her room to finish dressing. (G.) (6) Aposiopesis I. Comment on the syntactical distribution of

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the follow-ing cases of aposiopesis and on the causes which ne-cessitated them. Suggest the implied meaning of trite aposiopeses. He would have to stay. Whatever might happen, that was the only possible way to salvationto stay, to trust Emily, to make himself believe that with the help of the children. . . (P. Q.) Paritt: Well, they'll get a chance now to show(Hastily) I don't meanBut let's forget that. (O.'N.) "She must leaveoror, better yetmaybe drown herselfmake away with herself in some wayor " (Dr.) "Shuttleworth, II want to speak to you inin strictest confidenceto ask your advice. Yetyet it is upon such a serious matter that I hesitatefearing" (W. Q.) Paritt: I told her, "You've always acted the free woman, you've never let any thing stop you from" (He 72

checks himselfgoes on hurriedly.) That made her sore. (O'N.) And it was so unlikely that any one would trouble to look thereuntiluntil well. (Dr.) "It is the moment one opens one's eyes that is hor-rible at sea. These days! Oh, these days! I wonder how anybody can . . ." (J. C.) What about the gold bracelet she'd been wearing that afternoon, the bracelet he'd never seen before and which she'd slipped off her wrist the moment she realized he was in the room? Had Steve given her that? And if he had. . . (P. Q.) 9. Oh, that's what you are doing. Well, I never. (K.A.) 10. "But, John, you know I'm not going to a doctor. I've told you." "You're goingor else." (P. Q.) 11. . . .shouting out that he'd come back that his mother had better have the money ready for him. Or else! That is what he said: "Or else!" It was a threat. (Ch.) "I still don't quite like the face, it's just a trifle too full,

but" I swung myself on the stool. (L.) "So you won't come at all?!" "I don't yet know. It all depends." (P.) 14. "Will you ever change your mind?" "It depends, you know." (T. C.) (7) Suspense I. Analyse the manner in which the following cases of suspense are organized. All this Mrs. Snagsby, as an injured woman and the friend of Mrs. Chadband, and the follower of Mr. Chad-band, and the mourner of the late Mr. Tulkinghorn, is here to certify. (D.) I have been accused of bad taste. This has disturbed me, not so much for my own sake (since I am used to the slights and arrows of outrageous fortune) as for the sake of criticism in general.' (S. M.) No one seemed to take proper pride in his work: from plumbers who were simply thieves to, say, newspa-permen (he seemed to think them a specially intellectual 73

class) who never by any chance gave a correct version of the simplest affair. (J. C.) ". . .The day on which I take the happiest and best step of my life the day on which I shall be a man more exulting and more enviable than any other man in the worldthe day on which I give Bleak House its little mis-tressshall be next month, then," said my guardian. (D.) "If you had any partI don't say whatin this at-tack," pursued the boy, "or if you know anything about itI don't say how much or if you know who did itI go no closeryou did an injury to me that's never to be forgiven." (D.) Corruption could not spread with so much success, though reduced into a system, and though some minis-ters, with equal impudence and folly, avowed it by them-selves and their advocates, to be the principal expedient by which they governed; if a long and almost unobserved progression of causes and effects did not prepare the con-juncture. (Bol.) (8) Repetition I. Classify the following cases of repetition according to the position occupied by the repeated unit. State their functions. 1. Heroes all. Natural leaders. Morrows always been leaders, always been gentlmen. Oh, take a drink once in a while but always like Morrows. Always know how to make heroic gesturesexcept mehow to knock their wifesup with good Morrow sonshow to make money without looking like they even give a damn. Oh the Morrows and the Morrows and the Morrows and the Morrows, to the last syllable of recorded time (..) 2. "This is a rotten country," said Cyril. "Oh, I don't know, you know, don't you know!" I said. (P. G.W.) ... the photograph of Lotta Lindbeck he tore into small bits across and across and across. (E. F.) I wanted to knock over the table and hit him until my arm had no more strength in it, then give him the boot, give him the boot, give him the bootI drew a deep breath ... (J. Br.) 74

There followed six months in Chicago, in which he painted not one picture that was satisfactory to him, that was not messed into nothingness by changes and changes and changes. (Dr.) There seemed to be no escape, no prospect of freedom. "If I had a thousand pounds," thought Miss Fulkes, "a thousand pounds. A thousand pounds." The words were magical. "A thousand pounds." (A. H.) One may see by their footprints that they have not walked arm in arm; and that they have not walked in a straight track, and that they have walked in a moody humour. (D.) It were better that he knew nothing. Better for com-mon sense, better for him, better for me. (D.) 9. He sat, still and silent, until his future landlord accepted his proposals and brought writing materials to complete the business. He sat, still and silent, while the landlord wrote. (D.) 10. Supposing his head had been held under water for a while. Supposing the first blow had been truer. Supposing he had been shot. Supposing he had been strangled. Supposing this way, that way, the other way. Suppos-ing anything but getting unchained from the one idea for that was inexorably impossible. (D.) The whitewashed room was pure white as of old, the methodical book-keeping was in peaceful progress as of old, and some distant howler was hanging against a cell door as of old. (D.) I wake up and I'm alone, and I walk round Warley and I'm alone, and I talk with people and I'm alone and I look at his face when I'm home and it's dead. . . (J. Br.) He ran away from the battle. He was an ordinary human being that didn't want to kill or be killed, so he ran away from the battle. (St. H.) . . .they took coach and drove westward. Not only drove westward, but drove into that particular westward division, which Bella had seen last when she turned her face from Mr. Boffin's door. Not only drove into that par-ticular division, but drove at last into that very street. Not only drove into that very street, but stopped at last at that very house. (D.) Failure meant poverty, poverty meant squalor, 75

great work of singeing, sealing, stamping, inking, and 76 squalor led, in the final stages, to the smells and stagnation of B. Inn Alley. (D.duM.) 16. If he had acted guilty . . . they would have had him. But he had carried it off. He had carried it off, and it was the private who had come out as the guilty party. (J.) 17. Mr. Winkle is gone. He must be found, Samfound and brought back to me. (D.) 18. . . .all was old and yellow with decay. And decay was the smell and being of that room. (B. D.) You knowhow brilliant he is, what he should be doing. And it hurts me. It hurts me every day of my life. (W. D.) If you have anything to say, say it, say it. (D.) II. Classify the following cases of morphological repeti-tion according to the place of the repeated morpheme and the function of repetition. 1. She unchained, unbolted, and unlocked the door. (A.B.) 2. "You, Sir," said Snawley, addressing the terrified Smike, "are an unnatural, ungrateful, unloveable boy." (D.) 3. Young Blight made a great show of fetching from his desk a long thin manuscript volume with a brown paper cover, and running his finger down the day's appointments, murmuring, "Mr. Aggs, Mr. Baggs, Mr. Daggs, Mr. Faggs, Mr. Gaggs, Mr. Boffin. Yes, Sir, quite right. You are a little before your time, sir. . ." Young Blight made another great show of changing the volume, taking up a pen, sucking it, dipping it, and running over previous entries before he wrote. As, "Mr. Alley, Mr. Bailey, Mr. Calley, Mr. Dalley, Mr. Falley, Mr. Galley, Mr. Halley, Mr. Kalley, Mr. Malley. And Mr. Boffin." (D.) 4. . . .it's all the chatting and the feeding and the old squiring and the toing and froing that runs away with the time. (K.A.) 5. Laughing, crying, cheering, chaffing, singing, David Rossi's people brought him home in triumph. (H.C.) 6. There was then ... a calling over of names, and

sanding, with exceedingly blurred, gritty and undecipherable results. (D.) The precious twinsuntried, unnoticed, undirected and I say it quiet with my hands downundiscovered. (S.) I'm an undersecretary in an underbureau. (I. Sh.) All colours and blends of Americans have some-what the same tendencies. It's a breed selected out by acci-dent. And so we are overbrave and overfearfulwe're kind and cruel as children. We're overfriendly and at the same time frightened of strangers . . . We're oversenti-mental and realistic. (St.) The procession then re-formed; the chairmen resu-med their stations; and the march was re-commenced. (D.) Force of police arriving, he recognized in them the conspirators, and laid about him hoarsely, fiercely, star-ingly, convulsively, foamingly. (D.) The doctor's friend was in the positive degree of hoarsness, redfacedness, all-fours, tobacco, dirt and bran-dy; the doctor in the comparativehoarser, puffier, more red-faced, more all-foury, tobaccoer, dirtier and brandier. (D.) 13. "She saysyou know her wayshe says, 'You're the chickenest-hearted, feeblest, faintest man I ever see." (D.) He had always been looked up to as a high autho-rity on all matters of amusement and dexterity, whether offensive, defensive or inoffensive. (D.) The guides called to the mules, the mules pricked up their drooping heads, the travellers' tongues were loos-ened, and in a sudden burst of slipping, climbing, jingl-ing, clinking and talking, they arrived at the convent door. (D.) 16. . . .the gloomy Cathedral of Our Lady . . . without the walls, encompassing Paris with dancing, love-making, wine-drinking, tobacco-smoking, tomb-visiting, billiard card- and domino-playing, quack-doctoring ... (D.) (9) P a r a 11 e 1 i s m I. Classify the following parallel constructions into com-plete and partial parallelism: 1. It was Mr. Squeers's custom to . . . make a sort of report . . . regarding the relations and friends he had seen, 77

the news he had heard, the letters he had brought down, the bills which had been paid, the accounts which had been unpaid, and so forth. (D.) It is the fate of most men who mingle with the world and attain even in the prime of life, to make many real friends, and lose them in the course of nature. It is the fate of all authors or chroniclers to create imaginary friends, and lose them in the course of art. (D.) You know I am very grateful to him; don't you? You know I feel a true respect for him . . . don't you? (D.) 4. . . .their anxiety is so keen, their vigilance is so great, their excited joy grows so intense as the signs of life strengthen, that how can she resist it! . . (D.) "If you are sorrowful, let me know why, and be sor-rowful too; if you waste away and are paler and weaker every day, let me be your nurse and try to comfort you. If you are poor, let us be poor together; but let me be with you." (D.) What is it? Who is it? When was it? Where was it? How was it? (D.) The coach was waiting, the horses were fresh, the roads were good, and the driver was willing. (D.) The Reverend Frank Milvey's abode was a very mod-est abode, because his income was a very modest income. (D.) . . .they all stood, high and dry, safe and sound, hale and hearty, upon the steps of the Blue Lion. (D.) The expression of his face, the movement of his shoulders, the turn of his spine, the gesture of his hands, probably even the twiddle of his toes, all indicated a half-humorous apology. (S. M.) The one was all the other failed to be. Protective, not demanding; dependable, not weak; low-voiced, never strident . . . (D. duM.) The sky was dark and gloomy, the air damp and raw, the streets wet and sloppy. (D.) Oh! be that ideal still! That great inheritance throw not away that tower of ivory do not destroy! (O. W.) Nostrils wide, scenting the morning air for the taint of game, his senses picked up something alien in the atmosphere. Naked body, taut and alert, his dark eyes searched the distance. (K. P.) 78

II. State what other syntactical stylistic means are used alongside with the following cases of parallelism. He was a sallow manall cobblers are; and had a strong bristly beardall cobblers have. (D.) You missed a friend, you know; or you missed a foe, you know; or you wouldn't come here, you know. (D.) Through all the misery that followed this union; through all the cold neglect and undeserved reproach; through all the poverty he brought upon her; through all the struggles of their daily life . . . she toiled on. (D.) It's only an adopted child. One I have told her of. One I'm going to give the name to. (D.) Secretly, after nightfall, he visited the home of the Prime Minister. He examined it from top to bottom. He measured all the doors and windows. He took up the flooring. He inspected the plumbing. He examined the furniture. He found nothing. (L.) "Aha!" he cried. "Where now, Brass? Where now? Sally with you, too? Sweet Sally! And Dick? Pleasant Dick! And Kit? Honest Kit!" (D.) Passage after passage did he explore; room after room did he peep into . . . (D.) Talent Mr. Micawber has. Capital Mr. Micawber has not, (D.) (10) Chiasmus I. Discuss the following cases of chiasmus. I know the world and the world knows me. (D.) Mr. Boffin looked full at the man, and the man looked full at Mr. Boffin. (D.) There are so many sons who won't have anything to do with their fathers, and so many fathers who won't speak to their sons. (O. W.) I looked at the gun, and the gun looked at me. (R.Ch.) His dislike of her grew because he was ashamed of it . . . Resentment bred shame, and shame in its turn bred more resentment. (A. H.) For the former her adoration was ecstatic and there-

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fore blind; her admiration for the latter, although equally devoted, was less uncritical. (V.) 7. Well! Richard said that he would work his fingers to the bone for Ada, and Ada said that she would work her fingers to the bone for Richard. (D.) (11) Polysyndeton I. State the functions of the following examples of polysyndeton. Pay attention to the repeated conjunction and the number of repetitions. And the coach, and the coachman, and the horses, rattled, and jangled, and whipped, and cursed, and swore, and tumbled on together, till they came to Golden Square. (D.) And they wore their best and more colourful clothes. Red shirts and green shirts and yellow shirts and pink shirts. (P. A.) Bella soaped his face and rubbed his face, and soaped his hands and rubbed his hands, and splashed him, and rinsed him and towelled him, until he was as red as beet-root. (D.) 4. . . .Then from the town pour Wops and Chinamen , and Polaks, men and women in trousers and rubber coats and oilcloth aprons. They come running to clean and cut and plack and cook and can the fish. The whole street rumbles and groans and screams and rattles while the silver rivers of fish pour in out of the boats and the boats rise higher and higher in the water until they are empty. The canneries rumble and rattle and squeak until the last fish is cleaned and cut and cooked and canned and then the whistles scream again and the dripping smelly tired Wops and Chinamen and Polaks, men and women- straggle out and droop their ways up the hill into the town and Cannery Row becomes itself againquiet and magical. (St.) Mr. Richard, or his beautiful cousin, or both, could sign something, or make over something, or give some sort of undertaking, or pledge, or bond? (D.) First the front, then the back, then the sides, then the superscription, then the seal, were objects of Newman's admiration. (D.)

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(12) Asyndeton I. Analyse the following cases of asyndeton, indicating their functions and paying, attention to the quality of units, connected asyndetically. 1. The pulsating motion of Malay Camp at night was everywhere. People sang. People cried. People fought. people loved. People hated. Others were sad. Others gay. Others with friends. Others lonely. Some died. Some were born. (P. A.) The mail coach doors were on their hinges, the lin-ing was replaced, the iron-work was as good as new, the paint was restored, the lamps were alight; cushions and great coats were on every coach box, porters were thrust-ing parcels into every boot, guards were stowing away letter bags, hostlers were dashing pails of water against the renovated wheels; numbers of men were rushing about . . ., portmanteaus were handed up, horses were put to, and in short it was perfectly clear that every mail there was to be off directly. (D.) Double on their steps, though they may, weave in and out of the myriad corners of the city's streets, return, go forward, back, from side to side, here, there, anywhere, dodge, twist, wind, the central chamber where Death sits is reached inexorably at the end. (Fr. N.) "Well, guess it's about time to turn in." He yawned, went out to look at the thermometer, slammed the door, patted her head, unbuttoned his waistcoat, yawned, wound the clock, went to look at the furnace, yawned, and clumped upstairs to bed, casually scratching his thick woolen undershirt. (S. L.) Through his brain, slowly, sifted the things they had done together. Walking together. Dancing together. Sitting silent together. Watching people together. (P. A.) With these hurried words, Mr. Bob Sawyer pushed 6 53 81

the postboy on one side, jerked his friend into the vehicle, slammed the door, put up the steps, wafered the bill on the street-door, locked it, put the key in his pocket, jumped into the dickey, gave the word for starting . . . (D.) EXCERPTS FOR DETAILED ANALYSIS OF SYNTACTICAL STYLISTIC DEVICES I may live five years or five minutes. Arteries wrong, heart wrong, kidneys wrong. Exactly. (W. D.) What with the dust and the oil, and the darkness, and the clanking of the rails and the spitting of the sparks and the muffled screams above, it was enough to drive a man crazy. (B. N.) 3. . . .their owners went away, after . . . many remarks how they had never spent such a delightful evening, and how they marvelled to find it so late . . . and how they wished that Mr. and Mrs. Kenwigs had a wedding-day once a week, and how they,wondered by what hidden agency Mrs. Kenwigs could possibly have managed so well. (D.) Badgworthy was in seventh heaven. A murder! At

Chimneys! Inspector Badgworthy in charge of the case. The police have a clue. Sensational arrest. Promotion and Ku-dos for the aforementioned Inspector. (Ch.) ". . .to have the opportunity of speaking to one so well informed about it as yourself, is an immense relief to me. Quite a boon. Quite a blessing, I am sure." (D.)Daily she determined, "But I must have a stated amountbe business-like. System. I must do somethings about it." And daily she didn't do anything about it. (S. L.)"Give me an example," I said quietly. "Of something that means something. In your opinion." (T. C.) The crow I gave her went wild and flew away. All summer you could hear him. In the yard. In the garden. In the woods. All summer that damned bird was calling: "Lulamae, Lulamae." (T. C.)I see what you mean. And I want the money. Must have it. (P.)10. "Sit down, you dancing, prancing, shambling, scrambling fool parrot! Sit down!" (D).

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His forehead was narrow, his face wide, his head large, and his nose all on one side. (D.) He came to us, you see, about three months ago. A skilled and experienced waiter. Has given complete satisfaction. He has been in England about five years. (Ch.) She merely looked at him weakly. The wonder of him! The beauty of love! Her desire toward him! (Dr.) 14. "Honestly. I don't feel anything. Except ashamed." "Please. Are you sure? Tell me the truth. You might have been killed." "But I wasn't. And thank you. For saving my life. You're wonderful. Unique. I love you." (T. C.) A solemn silence: Mr. Pickwick humorous, the old lady serious, the fat gentleman cautious and Mr. Miller timorous. (D.) She stopped, and seemed to catch the distant sound of knocking. Abandoning the traveller, she hurried towards the parlour, in the passage she assuredly did hear knocking, angry and impatient knocking, the knocking of some-one who thinks he has knocked too long. (A. B.) From the offers of marriage that fell to her, Dona Clara deliberately chose the one that required her removal to Spain. So to Spain she went. (Th. W.)

When he blinks, a parrot-like look appears, the look of some heavily blinking tropicalbird. (A.M.) I am proud of this free and happy country. My form dilates, my eye glistens, my breast heaves, my heart swells, my bosom burns, when I call to mind her greatness and her glory. (D.) He, and the falling light and the dying fire, the time-worn room, the solitude, the wasted life, and gloom, were all in fellowship. Ashes, and dust, and ruin! (D.) "Call Elizabeth Cluppins," said Sergeant Buzfuz... The nearest usher called for Elizabeth Tuppins, another

one, at a little distance off, demanded Elizabeth Juppins; and a third rushed in a breathless state into Ring Street and screamed for Elizabeth Muffins till he was hoarse. (D.) "I really can't say," replied Eugene ... "At times I have thought yes; at other times I have thought no; how I have been inclined to pursue such a subject, now I have felt it was absurd, and it tired and embarrassed me. Abso83

lutely, I can't say. Frankly and faithfully, I would if I could." (D.) Homeless, he is always home inside his shoes and jeans and shirt, and interested. (A. M.) The crooks and four-flushers and smart operators everywhere. On the docks. In the offices. Right up in bat-talion and company, right up next to you on the front line. (I. Sh.) In manner, close and dry. In voice, husky and low, In face, watchful behind a blind. (D.) .. like people. Not just empty streets and dead buildings. People. People. (P. A.) Passage after passage did he explore; room after room did he peep into; at length ... he opened the door of the identical room in which he had spent the evening .. (D.) .. .it was not the monotonous days uncheckered by variety and uncheered by pleasant companionship, it was not the dark dreary evenings ox the long solitary nights, it was not the absence of every slight and easy pleasure for which young hearts beat high or the knowing nothing of childhood but its weakness and its easily wounded spir-it, that had wrung such tears from Nell. (D.) If it had not been for these things, I might have lived out my life, talking at street corners to scorning men. I might have died, unmarked, unknown, a failure. Now we are not a failure. This is our career and our triumph. Never in our full can we hope to do such work for tolerance, for justice, for man's understanding of man, as now we do by an accident. Our wordsour livesour painsnothing! The taking of our liveslives of a good shoemaker and a poor fish-peddlerall! That last moment belongs to us that agony is our triumph! (H. R.) However, there was no time to think more about the matter, for the fiddles and harp began in real earnest. Away went Mr. Pickwickhands across, down the middle to the very end of the room, and halfway up the chimney, back again to the door poussette everywhereloud stamp on the groundready for the next coupleoff againall the figure over once more another stamp to beat out the timenext couple, and the next, and the next againnev-er was such going! (D.) An Englishman, needing a pair of striped trousers 84

in a hurry for the New Year festivities, goes to his tailor who takes his measurements. "That's the lot. Come back in four days, I'll have it ready." Good. Four days later. "So sorry, come back in a week, I've made a mess of the seat." Good. That's all right, a neat seat can be very ticklish. A week later. "Frightfully sorry, come back in ten days, I've made a hash of the crutch." Good, can't be helped, a snug crutch is always a teaser. Ten days later. "Dreadfully sorry, come back in a fortnight. I've made a balls of the fly." Good, at a pinch, a smart fly is a good proposition.. . Well, to make it short, the bluebells are blowing and he ballockses the buttonholes. "God damn you to hell, Sir, it's indecent, there are limits! In six days do you hear me, six days, God made the world. Yes, Sir, no less, Sir, the world! And you are not bloody well capable of making me a pair of trousers in three months!" "But my dear Sir, my dear Sir, look(disgustedly)at the world (pause)and look(loving gesture, proudly) at my trousers!" (S. B.) 32. Colonel Bulder, in full military uniform, on horse-back, galloping first to one place and then to another, and backing his horse among the people, and prancing, and curvetting, and shouting in a most alarming manner, and making himself very hoarse in the voice, and very red in the face, without any assignable cause or reason whatever. (D.) III. GUIDE TO LEXICO-SYNTACTICAL STYLISTIC DEVICES While in lexical SD the desired effect is achieved through the interaction of lexical meanings of words and in syntactical SD through the syntactical arrangement of elements, the third group of SD is based on the employ-ment of both fixed structure and determined scope of lexicalmeanings. So, in (1) Climax we observe parallelism consisting of three or more steps, presenting a row of relative (or contextual relative) synonyms placed in the ascending validity of their denotational (which results in logical and quantita-tive climax) or connotational meanings. The latter type of climax is called emotive and is realized through still another pattern of a twostep structure, based on repetition

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of the semantic centre, usually expressed by an adjective or adverb, and the introduction of an intensifier between two repeated units, e.g., 'I am sorry, terribly sorry'. If each step of climax is supplied with a negative partide, that necessitates the reverseddescendingscale of its components: to emphasize absence of a certain fact quality, phenomenon, etc., the row of relative synonyms' begins with the one showing the highest degree of this quality, importance, etc. Thus the affirmative and the negative constructions of climax demand diametrically opposite order of the same lexical units, while stylistic func-tions of both structural types remain identical. Sudden reversal of expectations roused by climax (mainly non-completed), causes anticlimax. The main bulk of paradoxes is based on anticlimax. Antithesis is a structure consisting of two steps, the lexical meanings of which are opposite to each other. The steps may be presented by morphemes, which brings forth morphological antithesis, e. g., 'underpaid and overworked'; by antonyms (or contextual antonyms) and antonymous expressions which is the case of antithesis proper; and by completed

statements or pictures semantically opposite to one another which brings forth developed antithesis. Litotes presupposes double negation; onethrough the negative particle no or not; the otherthrough () a word with a negative affix ('not hopeless'); (b) a word with a negative or derogatory meaning ('not a coward'); (c) a negative construction ('not without love'); (d) an adjective or adverb preceded by too ('not too awful'). The stylistic function of all these types is identical: to convey the doubts of the speaker concerning the exact characteristics of the object in question. The lexical meaning of the second component of litotes is of extreme importance, for similar structures may lead to opposite effects: cf. 'looking not too bad' expresses a weakened positive evaluation, while 'looking not too happy' expresses a weakened negative evaluation of the phenomenon. (4) Simile is also a structure of two components joined by a fixed range of linkadverbs like, as, as ...as, as though, etc. If there is no formal indicator of simile while semantic relations of both parts of the structure remain those of

resemblance and similarity, we simile which preserves only may speak of a disguised one side of the SDlexical, 86 modifying its other side structural. True enough, instead of the accepted simileformants, in disguised similes there are often used verbs, lexical meanings of which emphasize the type of semantic relations between the elements of the utterance, such as 'to remind', 'to resemble', 'to recollect', 'to seem' and others. If the basis of similarity appears to the author vague, he supplies the simile with a key, immediately following the structure and revealing those common features of two compared phenomena which led to the origination of the SD. (5) The structure of periphrasis is modelled with difficulty, for it is exceedingly variable. Very generally and not quite precisely it can be defined as a phrase or sentence, substituting a one-word denomination of an object, phenomenon, etc. Proceeding from the semantic basis for the substitu-tion, periphrases fall into logical, euphemistic and figu-rative. The main stylistic function of all these types is to convey the author's subjective perception, thus illumina-ting the described entity with the new, added light and understanding.

(6) Represented speech, which combines lexical and syntactical peculiarities of colloquial and literary speech, has gained widespread popularity especially in the 20th century, allowing the writer in a condensed and seemingly objective manner to lead the. reader into "the inner workings of human mind. EXERCISES (1) Climax I. Discuss the nature and distribution of the components of logical climax in the following examples.

It was a mistake... a blunder... lunacy... (W.D.) What I have always said, and what I always shall say, is, that this ante-post betting is a mistake, an error, and a mug's game. (P. G. W.) And you went down the old steep way... the well-known toboggan run... insane pride... lies... treachery .. Murder... (P.)

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Poor Ferse! Talk about trouble, Dinnyillness, pov-erty, vice, crimenone of them can touch mental deran-gement for sheer tragedy of all concerned. (G.) He was numbed. He wanted to weep, to vomit, to die, to sink away. (A. B.) It is donepastfinished! (D.) "It must be a warm pursuit in such a climate," ob-served Mr. Pickwick. "Warm!red hot!scorching!glowing!" (D.) A storm's coming up. A hurricane. A deluge (Th. W.) I was well inclined to him before I saw him. I liked him when I did see him; I admire him now. (Ch. Br.) There are drinkers. There are drunkards. There are alcoholics. But these are only steps down the ladder. Right down at the bottom is the meths drinkerand man can't sink any lower than that. (W. D.) "Say yes. If you don't, I'll break into tears. I'll sob. I'll moan. I'll growl." (Th. S.) "I swear to God. I never saw the beat of this winter. More snow, more cold, more sickness, more death." (M.W.) "My nephew, I introduce to you a lady of strong force of character, like myself; a resolved lady, a stern lady, a lady who has a will that can break the weak to powder: a lady without pity, without love, implacable..." (D.) "I designed them for each other; they were made for each other, sent into the world for each other, born for each other, Winkle", said Mr. Ben Allen. (D.) I don't attach any value to money. I don't care about it, I don't know about it, I don't want it, I don't keep itit goes away from me directly. (D.) II. State the nature of the increasing entities in the follow-ing examples of quantitative climax. "You have heard of Jefferson Brick I see, Sir," quoth the Colonel with a smile. "England has heard of JeffersB Brick. Europe has heard of Jefferson Brick..." (D.) R: "I never told you about that letter Jane Crofut got from her minister when she was sick. He wrote Janel letter and on the envelope the address was like this. It said: Jane Crofut; The Crofut Farm; Grover's Corners; 88

Sutton County; New Hampshire; United States of America." G: "What's funny about it?" R: "But listen, it's not finished: the United States of America; Continent of North America; Western Hemi-sphere; the Earth; the Solar System; the Universe; the Mind of Godthat's what it said on the envelope." (Th.W.) How many sympathetic souls can you reckon on in the world? One in tenone in a hundredone in a thous-andin ten thousand? Ah! (J. C.) You knowafter so many kisses and promises, the lie given to her dreams, her words ... the lie given to kisseshours, days, weeks, months of unspeakable bliss... (Dr.) III. Classify the following examples of emotive climax according to their structure and the number of the components. Of course it's important. Incredibly, urgently, despe-rately important. (D. S.) "I have been so unhappy here, dear brother," sobbed poor Kate; "so very, very miserable." (D.) The mother was a rather remarkable woman, quite remarkable in her way. (W. D.) That's a nice girl; that's a very nice girl; a promising girl! (D.) She felt better, immensely better, standing beside this big old man. (W. D.) He who only five months before had sought her so eagerly with his eyes and intriguing smile. The liar! The brute! The monster! (Dr.) I am a bad man, a wicked man, but she is worse. She is really bad. She is bad, she is badness. She is Evil. She not only is evil, but she is Evil. (J. O'H.) "An unprincipled adventurera dishonourable char-actera man who preys upon society, and makes easily-deceived people his dupes, sir, his absurd, his foolish, his wretched dupes, sir," said the excited Mr. P. (D.) "I abhor the subject. It is an odious subject, an of-fensive subject, a subject that makes me sick." (D.) 10. "I'll smash you. I'll crumble you, I'll powder you. Go to the devil!" (D.)

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"Upon my word and honour, upon my life, upon my soul, Miss Summerson, as I am a living man, I'll act according to your wish!" (D.) .. .to them boys she is a mother. But she is more than a mother to them, ten times more. (D.) Mr. Tulkinghorn ... should have communicated to him nothing of this painful, this distressing, this unlooked-for, this overwhelming, this incredible intelligence." (D.) IV. Comment on the influence of the negative particle upon the structure of climax and the meaning of its components. No tree, no shrub, no blade of grass, not a bird or beast, not even a fish that was not owned! (G.) "Not a word, Samnot a syllable!" (D.) Not a word, not a look, not a glance, did he bestow upon his heart's pride of the evening before. (D.) "Fledgeby has not heard of anything." "No, there's not a word of news," says Lammle. "Not a particle," adds Boots. "Not an atom," chimes in Brewer. (D.) 5. "Be careful," said Mr. Jingle"not a look." "Not a wink," said Mr. Tupman. "Not a syllable.Not a whisper." (D.) V. Speak on the modes of organization of anticlimax. Pay attention to punctuation. "In moments of utter crises my nerves act in the most extraordinary way. When utter disaster seems immi-nent, my whole being is simultaneously braced to avoid it. I size up the situation in a flash, set my teeth, contract my muscles, take a firm grip of myself, and without a tremor, always do the wrong thing." (B. Sh.) This was appallingand soon forgotten. (G.) Women have a wonderful instinct about things. They can discover everythingexcept the obvious. (O. W.) ...they ... were absolutely quiet; eating no apples, cutting no names, inflicting no pinches, and making no grimaces, for full two minutes afterwards. (D.) (2) Antithesis I. Give morphological and syntactical characteristics of the following cases of antithesis. 90

1. .. .something significant may come out at last, which may be criminal or heroic, may be madness or wisdom (J.C.) 2. Three bold and experienced mencool, confident and dry when they began; white, quivering and wet when they finished... (R. K.) Don't use big words. They mean so little. (O. W.) Mrs. Nork had a large home and a small husband. (S.L.) 5. He ... ordered a bottle of the worst possible port wine, at the highest possible price. (D.) It is safer to be married to the man you can be happy with than to the man you cannot be happy without. (E.) The mechanics are underpaid, and underfed, and over-worked. (J. A.) 8.. There was something eerie about the apartment house, an unearthly quiet that was a combination of over-carpeting and under-occupancy. (R. Ch.) 9. In marriage the upkeep of woman is often the down-tall of man. (E.) II. Analyse the following examples of developed antithesis.

Cannery Row in Monterey in California is a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream. Cannery Row is the gathered and scattered, tin and iron, and rust and splintered wood, chipped pavement and weedy lots and junk heaps, sardine canneries of corrugated iron, honky tonks, restaurants and whore houses, and little crowded groceries, and labo-ratories and flophouses. Its inhabitants are, as the man once said, "whores, pimps, gamblers and sons of bitches," by which he meant Everybody. Had the man looked through" another peephole he might have said, "saints and angels and martyrs and holy men," and he would have meant the same thing. (St.) Men's talk was better than women's. Never food, nev-er babies, never sickness, or boots needing mending, but people, what happened, the reason. Not the state of the house, but the state of the Army. Not the children next door, but the rebels in France. Never what broke the china, but who broke the treaty. Not what spoilt the washing, but 91

who spilled the beans... Some of it was puzzling and some of it was tripe, but all of it was better than darning Char-ley's socks. (D. du M.) .. .as we passed it seemed that two worlds were meeting. The world of worry about rent and rates and groceries, of the smell of soda and blacklead and "No Smoking" and "No Spitting" and "Please Have the Cor-rect Change Ready" and the world of the Rolls and the Black Market clothes and the Coty perfume and the career ahead of one running on well-oiled grooves to a knight-hood... (J. Br.) It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other wayin short the period was so far like the pres-ent period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only. (D.) They went down to the camp in black, but they came back to the town in white; they went down to the camp in ropes, they came back in chains of gold; they went down to the camp in fetters, but came back with their steps en-larged under them; they went also to the camp looking for death, but they came back from thence with assurance of life; they went down to the camp with heavy hearts, but came back with pipes and tabor playing before them. (J. Bun.) A special contrast Mr. George makes to Smallweed family ... It is a broadsword to an oyster knife. His de-veloped figure, and their stunned forms; his large manner, filling any amount of room; and their little narrow pinched ways; his sounding voice and their sharp spare tones are in the strongest and the strangest opposition. (D.) (3) Litotes I. Classify the following cases of litotes according to their structure.

His sister was in favor of this obvious enthusiasm on the part of her brother, although she was not unaware that her brother more and more gave to her the status of a priv-iledged governess. (J. O'H.) "I am not unmindful of the fact that I owe you ten dollars." (J. O'H.) "How slippery it is, Sam." "Not an uncommon thing upon ice, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. (D.) In a sharp, determined way her face was not un-handsome. (A. H.) Powell's sentiment of amused surprise was not un-mingled with indignation. (J. C.) He was laughing at Lottie but not unkindly. (Hut.) .. .there was something bayonetlike about her, some-thing not altogether unadmirable. (S.) She had a snouty kind of face which was not com-pletely unpretty. (K. A.) The idea was not totally erroneous. The thought did not displease me. (I. M.) She was not without realisation already that this thing was impossible, so far as she was concerned. (Dr.) It was not without satisfaction that Mrs. Sunbury perceived that Betty was offended. (S.M.) Bell understood, not without sympathy, that Queen had publicly committed himself. (J.) Kirsten said not without dignity: "Too much talk-ing is unwise." (Ch.) She couldn't help remembering those last terrible days in India. Not that she isn't very happy now, of course... (P.) Well, I couldn't say no: it was too romantic. (T.C.) I felt I wouldn't say no to a cup of tea. (K.A.) I don't think I'm the type that doesn't even lift a finger to prevent a wedding from flatting. (S.) ...I am a vagabond of the harum-scarum order, and not ofthemean sort... (D.) Not altogether by accident he was on the train that brought her back to New York at the end of school. (J. O'H.) 20.- He was almost the same height standing up as sitting down (a not all that rare type of physique in Wales). (K. A.) 93

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II. Comment on the nature and function of litotes. Joe Clegg also looked surprised and possibly not too pleased. (Ch.) He was not over-pleased to find Wimsey palpita-ting on his door-step. (D. S.) "How are you feeling, John?" "Not too bad." (K.A.) He wasn't too awful. (E. W.) The place wasn't too tidy. (S.Ch.) I turned to Margaret who wasn't looking too happy. (P.) 7. "It's not too bad," Jack said, vaguely defending the last ten years. (I. Sh.) (7) Simile I. Classify the following into traditional and original similes. 1. "The man is a public nuisance and ought to be put down by the police," said the little Princess beating her foot on the floor. "He has a tongue like a sword and a pen like a dag-ger," said the young Roman. (H. C.) She went on to say that she wanted all her children absorb the meaning of the words they sang, not just mouth them, like sillybilly parrots. (S.) She was obstinate as a mule, always had been, from a child. (G.) "When my missus gets sore she is as hot as an oven." (D.S.) The air was warm and felt like a kiss as we stepped off the plane. (D. W.) Like a sigh, the breath of a living thing, the smoke rose. (K.P.) She has always been as live as a bird. (R. Ch.) As they sang they took turns spin-dancing a girl over the cobbles under the El; and the girl ... floated round in their arms light as a scarf. (. ) "That's the place where we are to lunch; and by Jove, there's the boy with the basket, punctual as clock-work." (D.)

He stood immovable like a rock in a torrent. (J. R.) He wore a grey double-breasted waistcoat, and his eyes gleamed like raisins. (Gr. Gr.) His speech had a jerky, metallic rhythm, like a tele-type. (T.C.) The lamp made an ellipse 'of yellow light on the ceiling, and on the mantel the little alabaster clock dripped time like a leaking faucet. (P.M.) I left her laughing. The sound was like a hen having hiccups. (R. Ch.) II. State the semantic field, to which the second components of the similes belong. Children! Breakfast is just as good as any other meal and I won't have you gobbling like wolves. (Th.W.) The eyes were watery and veined with red, like the eyes of a hound who lies too often too close to the fire. (Fl.) His mind went round and round like a squirrel in a cage, going over the past. (Ch.) "We can hear him coming. He's got a tread like a rhinoceros." (K-A.) "I'm as sharp," said Quilp to him at parting, "as sharp as a ferret." (D.) And then in a moment she would come to life and be as quick and restless as a monkey. (G.) It was a young woman and she entered like a wind-rush, a squall of scarves and jangling gold. (T.C.) "Funny how ideas come," he said afterwards, "Like a flash of lightning." (S.M.) The sidewalks ran like spring ice going out, grind-ing and hurried and packed close from bank to bank. (J.R.) 10. She perceived that even personalities were failing to hold the party. The room filled with hesitancy as with a fog. (S. L.) III. Analyse the causes, due to which a developed image is created (key to a simile, explicitness of the second component, etc.). 1. He felt like an old book: spine defective, covers dull, slight foxing, fly missing, rather shaken copy. (K.A.) 95

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"You're like the East. One loves it at first sight, or not at all, and one never knows it any better." (G.) He ached from head to foot, all zones of pain seem-ingly interdependent. He was rather like a Christmas tree whose lights, wired in series, must all go out if even one bulb is defective. (S.) London seems to me like some hoary massive under-world, a hoary ponderous inferno. The traffic flows through the rigid grey streets like the rivers of hell through their banks of dry, rocky ash. (D. H. L.) It (the district) lies on the face of the county like an insignificant stain, like a dark Pleiades in a green and empty sky. And Handbridge has the shape of a horse and its rider, Bursley of half a donkey, Knype a pair of trousers, Longshaw of an octopus, and little Turnhill of a beetle. The Five Towns seem to cling together for safety. (A.B.) For a long whilefor many years in facthe had not thought of how it was before he came to the farm. His memory of those times was like a house where no one lives and where the furniture has rotted away. But tonight it was as if lamps had been lighted through all the gloomy dead rooms. (T. C.) Mag Wildwood couldn't understand it, the abrupt absence of warmth on her return; the conversation she began behaved like green logs, they fumed but would not fire. (T.C.) IV. Analyse the following disguised similes. Indicate Verbs and phrases organizing them. H.G.Wells ... reminded her of the rice paddies in her native California. Acres and acres of shiny water but never more than two inches deep. (A. H.) There are in every large chicken-yard a number of old and indignant hens who resemble Mrs. Bogart and when they are served at Sunday noon dinner, as fricasseed chicken with thick dumplings, they keep up the resem-blance. (S. L.) .. .grinning a strangely taut, full-width grin which made his large teeth resemble a dazzling miniature piano: keyboard in the green light. (J.) Her startled glance descended like a beam of light, and settled for a moment on the man's face. He was forty96

ish and rather fat, with a moustache that made her think of the yolk of an egg, and a nose that spread itself. {W. D.) Scobie turned up James Street past the Secretariat. With its long balconies it has always reminded him of a hospital. For fifteen years he had watched the arrival of a succession of patients: periodically at the end of eighteen months certain patients were sent home, yellow and nervy, and others took their place Colonial Secretaries, Secre-taries of Agriculture, Treasurers and Directors of Public Works. He watched their temperature charts every one the first outbreak of unreasonable temper, the drink too many, the sudden attack for principle after a year of acquies-cence. The black clerks carried their bedside manner like doctors down the corridors: cheerful and respectful, they put up with any insult. The patient was always right. (Gr. Gr.) I'm not nearly hot enough to draw a word-picture that would do justice to that extraordinarily hefty crash. Try to imagine the Albert Hall falling on the Crystal Pal-ace, and you will have got the rough idea. (P.G.W.) (5) Periphrasis I. Distribute the following periphrases into original and traditional. "Did you ever see anything in Mr. Pickwick's man-ner and conduct towards the opposite sex to induce you to believe... (D.) Within the next quarter-hour a stag-party had taken over the apartment, several of them in uniform. I counted two Naval officers and an Air Force colonel: but they were outnumbered by graying arrivals beyond draft sta-tus. (T.C.) His arm about her, he led her in and bawled, "La-dies and worser halves, the bride!" (S. L.) I was earning barely enough money to keep body and soul together. (S.M.) Bill went with him and they returned with a tray of glasses, siphons and other necessaries of life. (Ch.) ...I participated in that delayed Teutonic migration known as the Great War. (Sc. F.) "The way I look at it is this," he told his wife. "We've all of us got a little of the Old Nick in us... The way I see it, that's just a kind of energy". (St.) 7 53

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8. The nose was anything but Grecianthat was a cer-tainty, for it pointed to heaven. (D. du M.) II. Discuss the following euphemistic periphrases. Everything was conducted on the most liberal and delightful scale. Excisable articles were remarkably cheap at all the public houses; and spring vans paraded the streets for the accommodation of voters who were seized with any temporary dizziness in the headan epidemic which prevailed among the electors during the contest, to a most alarming extent, and under the influence of which they might frequently be seen lying on the pavements in a state of utter insensibility. (D.) "I expect you'd like a wash," Mrs. Thompson said. "The bathroom's to the right and the usual offices next to it." (J.Br.) In the left corner, built out into the room, is the toilet with the sign "This is it" on the door. (O'N) I am thinking an unmentionable thing about your mother. (I. Sh.) Jean nodded without turning and slid between two vermilioncoloured buses so that two drivers simulta-neously used the same qualitative word. (G) The late Mr. Bardell, after enjoying for many years the esteem and confidence of his sovereign, as one of guar-dians of his royal revenues, glided almost imperceptibly from the world, to seek elsewhere for that repose and peace which a custom-house can never afford. (D.) James Porter, aged 25, was bound over last week after pleading guilty to interfering with a small cabbage and two tins of beans on his way home... (0.) III. Classify the following figurative periphrases into metaphorical and metonymical. The hospital was crowded with the surgically in-teresting products of the fighting in Africa. (I.Sh.) The beach, strewn with the steel overflow of the factories at home, looked like a rummaged basement in some store for giants. (I. Sh.) He would make some money and then he would come back and marry his dream from Blackwood. (Dr.) "Well! Here's the Police Court. I'm sorry I can't spare time to come in. But everybody will be nice to you. It's a very human place, if somewhat indelicate... Come 98

back to tea, if you can." She was gone. The exchange and mart of human indelicacy was crowded... (G.) For a single instant, Birch was helpless, his blood curdling in his veins at the imminence of the danger, and his legs refusing their natural and necessary office. (F. C.) ...I contracted pneumonia, in that day a killing disease. I went down and down, until the wing tips of the angels brushed my eyes. (St.) 7 His face was red, the back of his neck overflowed his collar, and there had recently been published a second edition of his chin. (P. G. W.) IV. State the nature and functions of the following periphrases. 1. "That elegant connection of oursthat dear lady who was here yesterday". "I understand," said Arthur. "Even that affable and condescending ornament of society," pursued Mr. Meagles, "may misrepresent us, we are afraid." (D.) She was still fat; the destroyer of her figure sat at the head of the table. (A. B.) When he saw that I was looking at him, he closed his eyes, sleepily, angelically, then stuck out his tongue an appendage of startling lengthand gave out what in my country would have been a glorious tribute to a myopic umpire. It fairly shook the tearoom. (S.) And then we take a soldier and put murder in his hands and we say to him... "Go out and kill as many of a certain kind of classification of your brothers as you can." (St.) Also, my draft board was displaying an uncomfor-table interest; and, having so recently escaped the regi-mentation of a small town, the idea of entering another form of disciplined life made me desperate. (T. C.) I wanted something that would depict my face as Heaven gave it to me, humble though the gift may have been. (L.) In the inns Utopians were shouting the universe into order over beer, and in the halls and parks the dignity of England was being preserved in a fitting manner. The villages were full of women who did nothing but fight against dirt and hunger,, and repair the effects of friction on clothes. (. .). 7* 99

(6) Represented Speech I. Classify the following examples of represented speech into represented inner and represented uttered speech. He looked at the distant green wall. It would be a long walk in this rain, and a muddy one. He was tired and he was depressed. His toes squelched in his shoes. Any-way, what would they find? Lot of trees. (J.) I shook her as hard as I could. I'd done it in play before, when she'd asked me to hurt her, please hurt her; but this time I was in brutal earnest... (J.Br.) ".. .You ought to make a good mural decorator some day, if you have the inclination," Boyle went on, "You've got the sense of beauty." The roots of Eugene's hair tin-gled. So art was coming to him. This man saw his capacity. He really had art in him. (Dr.) Ottilie should have been the happiest girl in Port-au-Prince. As Baby said to her, look at all the things that can be put to your credit: you have a lovely light color, even almost blue eyes, and such a pretty, sweet facethere is no girl on the road with steadier customers, every one of them ready to buy you all the beer you can drink. (T. C.) He held the cigarette in his mouth, tasting it, feeling its roundness, for a long time before he lit it. Then with a sigh, feeling, well, I've earned it, he lit the cigarette. (I.Sh.) She hadn't wanted to marry him or anyone else, for that matter, unless it was someone like her father. But there was no one like her father. No one she had ever seen. So, oh, well, what's the diff! You have to get married some time. (E. F.) For once Wilson's hand (of cards) was poor, and after staying a round because he was the heavy winner, he dropped out. When the campaign was over, he told him-self, he was going to drum up some way of making liquor. There was a mess sergeant over in Charley Company who must have made two thousand of them pounds, the way he sold a quart for five pounds. All a man needed was sugar and yeast and some of them cans of peaches or apri-cots. In anticipation he felt a warm mellow glow in his chest. Why, you could even make it with less. Cousin Ed, he remembered, had used molasses and raisins, and his stuff had been passing decent. 100

For a moment, though, Wilson was dejected. If he was going to fix himself any, he would have to steal all the makings from the mess tent some night, and he'd have to, find a place to hide it for a couple of days. And then he'd need a good little nook where he could leave the mash. It couldn't be too near the bivouac or anybody might be stumbling onto it and yet it shouldn't be too far if a man wanted to siphon off a little in a hurry. There was just gonna be a lot of problems to it, unless lie waited till the campaign was over and they were in per-manent bivouac. But that was gonna take too long. It might be even three or four months. Wilson began to feel restless. There was just too much figgering a man had to do if he wanted to get anything for himself in the Army. (J.H.) II. Discuss lexical and grammatical phenomena characterizing represented inner speech. Then he would bring her back with him to New-Yorkhe, Eugene Witla, already famous in the East. Al-ready the lure of the big eastern city was in his mind, its palaces, its wealth, its fame. It was the great world he knew, this side of Paris and London. He would go to it now, shortly. What would he be there? How great? How soon? So he dreamed. (Dr.) Angela looked at him with, swimming eyes. He was really different from anything she had ever known, young, artistic, imaginative, ambitious. He was going out into a world which she had longed for but never hoped to see that of art. Here one was telling her of his prospective art studies, and talking of Paris. What a wonderful thing! (Dr.) 3. Oh, love, love! Edward! Edward! Oh, he would not, could not remain away. She must see himgive him a chance to explain. She must make him understand that it was not want of love but fear of lifeher father, every-thing, everybodythat kept her so sensitive, aloof, remote. (D.) 4. And then he laughed at himself. He was getting nervy and het up like everybody else in the house. (Ch.) III. Indicate characteristic features of represented uttered speech.

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I then found a couple of stale letters to reread, one from my wife ... and one from my mother-in-law, asking me to please send her some cashmere yarn. (S.) The Mayor of Maycomb asked us to please help the garbage collector by dumping our own trees and trash. (H.L.) Angela, who was taking in every detail of Eugene's old friend, replied in what seemed an affected tone that no, she wasn't used to studio life: she was just from the country, you knowa regular farmer girlBlackwood, Wisconsin, no less!.. (Dr.) Rosita sniffed and... in her well-bottom voice de-clared that yes, it was better that they stay out of the sun, as it seemed to be affecting Ottilie's head. (. .) Certainly he had seen nobody remotely resembling the photograph of Gowan. Was there anybody at all like what Gowan would be if clean-shaven? Well, there now, that was asking something that was. Had the Inspector any idea what a 'edge-'og would look like without its spikes? (D.S.) .. .the servants summoned ,by the passing maid with-out a bell being rung, and quick, quick, let all this luggage be taken down into the hall and let one of you call a cab. (J. C.) He kept thinking he would write to herhe had no other girl acquaintance now; and just before he entered art school he did this, penning a little note saying that he remembered so pleasantly their ride; and when was she coming? (Dr.) 8. "... So I've come to be servant to you." "How much do you want?" "I don't know. My keep, I suppose." Yes, she could cook. Yes, she could wash. Yes, she could mend, she could darn. She knew how to shop a market. (D. du M.) EXCERPTS FOR DETAILED LEXICO-SYNTACTICAL STYLISTIC ANALYSIS* 1. The stablesI believe they have been replaced by television studioswere on West Sixty-sixth street. Holly * In these exercises major attention is to be paid to functional analysis of the discussed SD with the aim of establishing their role in the expressiveness of the given excerpts.

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selected for me an old sway-back biack-and-white mare: "Don't wory, she's safer than a cradle." Which, in my case, was a necessary guarantee, for ten-cent pony rides at childhood carnivals were the limit of my equestrian expe-rience. (T. C.) But you never did look at Vida Shermin in detail. You couldn't. Her electric activity veiled her. She was as energetic as a chipmunk. Her fingers fluttered; her sym-pathy came out in spurts; she sat on the edge of a chair in eagerness to be near her auditor, to send her enthusiasm and optimism across. (S.L.) Death suddenly slipped into the big room dartingly like a boxer on silent resigned feet moving pantherishly in to punch. (J.) As Prew listened the mobile face before him melted to a battleblackened skull as though a flamethrower had passed over it, kissed it lightly, and moved on. The skull talked on to him about his health. (J.) The sun seemed hotter than ever, and sweat crept down my chest with a faint verminous tickling. A large brown dog ran up to me, his whole bearing demonstrating a mistaken certainty that I'd been waiting all day for just such a one as him. On my recommendation his imme-diate departure, he gave an abrupt, crashing bark, like a rifleshot on the sound-track of a film about British India, and, with the demeanour of one making a lightning change of plans, ran off with all his strength after an invalid-car that was just popping its way round a distant corner. His bark came fairly back to me through the humidity. I en-vied him his committed air. (K. A.) He refused a taxi... Exercise, he thought, and no drinking at least a month. That's what does it. The drinking. Beer, martinis, have another. And the way your head felt in the morning. (I. Sh.) He was a tall thin man, with a face rather like Mark Twain's, black eye-brows which bristled and shot up, a bitten drooping grey moustache, and fuzzy grey hair; but his eyes were like owl's eyes, piercing, melancholy, dark brown, and gave to his rugged face an extraordinary expression of spirit remote from the flesh which had cap-tured it. (G.) The carriage appeared to her to be swimming amid waves over great depths. Then she was aware of a heavy 103

weight against her shoulder; she slipped down Chiras, unconscious,..Later, Sophia seemed to be revisiting the sea on whose waves the cab had swum; but now she was under the sea, in a watery gulf, terribly deep; and the sounds of the world came to her through the water, sudden and strange. Hands seized her and forced her from the subaqueous grotto where she had hidden into new alarms. And she briefly perceived that there was a large bath by the side of the bed, and that she was being pushed into it. (A. B.) 9.As brisk as bees, if not altogether as light as fairies, did the four Pickwickians assemble on the morning of the twenty-second day of December, in the year of grace in which these, their faithfully-recorded adventures, were undertaken and accomplished. Christmas was close at hand, in all his bluff and hearty honesty; it was the season of hospitality, merriment and open-heartedness; the old year was preparing, like an ancient philosopher, to call his friends around him, and amid the sound of feasting and revelry to pass gently and calmly away. Gay and merry was the time; and right gay and merry were at least four of the numerous hearts that were gladdened by its coming. (D.) 10. This print represented fifteen sisters, all of the same height and slimness of figure, all of the same ageabout twenty-five or so, and all with exactly the same haughty and bored beauty. That they were in truth sisters was clear from the facial resemblance between them; their demeanour indicated that they were princesses, offspring of some impossibly prolific king and queen. Those hands had never toiled, nor had those features ever relaxed from the smile of courts. The princesses moved in a landscape of marble steps and verandahs, with a bandstand and strange trees in the distance. One was in a riding-habit, another in evening attire, another dressed for tea, another for .the theatre; another seemed to be ready to go to bed. One held a little girl by the hand; it could not be her own little girl, for these princesses were far beyond human passions. Where had she obtained the little girl? Why was one sister going to the theatre, another to tea, another to the stable, and another to bed? Why was one in a heavy mantle, ana another sheltering from the sun's rays under a parasole? The picture was drenched in mystery, and the strangest 104

thing about it was that all these highnesses were apparently content with the most ridiculous and outmoded fashions. Absurd hats, with veils flying behind; absurd bonnets, fitting close to the head, and spotted; absurd coiffures that nearly lay on the nape; absurd clumsy sleeves; absurd waists, almost above the elbow's level; absurd scalloped jackets! (A.B.) 11. We came to the chapel. I have passed it really in my walks, twice or thrice; it lies in a hollow, between two hills; an elevated hollow, near a swamp, whose peaty moisture is said to answer all the purposes of embalming on the few corpses deposited there. The roof has been kept whole hitherto; but as the clergyman's stipend is only twenty pounds per annum, and a house with two rooms, threaten-ing speedily to determine into one, no clergyman will un-dertake the duties of pastor: especially as it is currently reported that his flock would rather let him starve than increase the living by one penny from their own pockets. However, in my dream, Jabes had a full and attentive congregation; and he preachedgood God! what a sermon: divided into four hundred and ninety parts, each fully equal to an ordinary address from the pulpit, and each discussing a separate sin! Where he searched for them, I cannot tell. He had his private manner of interpreting the phrase, and it seemed necessary the brother should sin different sins on every occasion. They were of the most curious charac-ter: odd transgressions that I never imagined previously. Oh! how weary I grew! How I writhed, and yawned, and nodded, and revived! How I pinched and pricked my-self, and rubbed my eyes, and stood up, and sat down again, and nudged Joseph to inform me if he would ever have done. I was condemned to hear all out: finally he reached the First of the Seventy-first. At that crisis a sudden inspiration descended on me; I was moved to rise and denounce Jabes Branderham as the sinner of the sin no Christian should pardon. "Sir!" I exclaimed, "sitting here within these four walls, at one stretch, I have endured and forgiven the four hundred and ninety heads of your discourse. Seventy times seven times have I plucked my hat and been about to de-partSeventy times seven times have you preposterously forced me to resume my seat. The four hundred and ninety-first is too much. Fellowmartyrs, have at him! Drag him 105

down, and crush him to atoms that the place which knows him may know him no more!" (E. Br.) "The old gentleman again!" he would exclaim, "a very prepossessing old gentleman, Mr. Richard,charming countenance, sirextremely calmbenevolence in every feature, sir. He quite realizes my idea of King Lear, as he appears when in possession of his kingdom, Mr. Richard-the same good humour, the same white hair and partial baldness, the same liability to be imposed upon. Ah! A sweet subject for contemplation, sir, very sweet!" (D.) You look out of the window, twilight is falling, agony; you are shut in. The air is cool, smells sweet. You are shut in. You are shut in and your heart is shut in and it tries to get out and it stifles you and grows, it grows, and your being is dissolved, it dissolves in longing, you do not know what is happening to your life, you think of the others around you, the man who walks to and fro in his cell from the time he is shut in at night till the door is opened again in the morning, whose silence you have never heard, who cannot bear it: of the men in the trenches, and you want to be free with them, for air, sweet air and the sky overhead; you hear tapping in the walls, it is the men who are talking to each other, who have to talk to each other, to tell each other their names, their age, who have learned this complicated code to communicate non-sense to each other because the silence is unbearable to them; then you think of the men on bread and water and in darkness because somehow they are always in trouble, because they cannot help fighting, questioning every authority, and suddenly your misery, your utter frustration fades, the vibration ceases, you are calm. (J. Rod.) IV. GUIDE TO GRAPHICAL AND. PHONETIC EXPRESSIVE MEANS (1) Graphical expressive means serve to convey in the written form those emotions which in the oral type of speech are expressed by intonation and stress. We refer here to emphatic use of punctuation and deliberate change of the spelling of a word. All types of punctuation can be used to reflect the emphatic intonation of the speaker. Emphatic punctuation is used in many syntactical SDaposiopesis, rhetorical 106

question, suspense, and may be not connected with any other SD: 'And there, drinking at the bar wasFinney!' (R.Ch.) The changed type (italics, bold type, etc.) or spelling (multiplication'laaarge', 'rrruin'; hyphenation'des-pise', 'girl', etc.) are used to indicate the additional stress on the emphasized word or part of the word. There is no correlation,between the type of graphical means and the type of intonation they reflect, for their choice is too inadequate for the variety and quality of emotions inherent in intonation. (2) Phonetic expressive meansalliteration, onomato-poeia and othersdeal with the sound instrumenting of the utterance and are mainly found in poerty. Graphical fixation of phonetic peculiarities of pronuncia-tion with the ensuing violation of the accepted spelling-graphonis characteristic of prose only and is used to indicate blurred, incoherent or careless pronunciation, caused by temporary (tender age, intoxication, ignorance of the discussed theme, etc.) or by permanent factors (social, territorial, educational, etc. status). Permanent graphon is vastly used by some modern writers in England (A. Sillitoe, S. Chaplin, D. Sto-rey, and others) and by Negro and military-novel writers in America (R. Wright, J. Baldwin, J. Jones, J. Hersey, and others). EXERCISES I, Indicate what graphical expressive means are used in the following extracts:* ".. .I ref-use his money altogezzer." (D.) .. .on pain of being called a g-irl, I spent most of the remaining twilights that summer with Miss Maudie At-kinson on her front porch. (H.L.) "...Adieu you, old man, grey. I pity you, and I de-spise you." (D.) He misses our father very much. He was s-1-a-i-n in North Africa. (S.) * For the use of emphatic punctuation turn to corresponding syntactical stylistic means (rhetorical question, aposiopesis, suspense, etc.). 107

We'll teach the children to look at things... I shall make it into a sort of game for them. Teach them to take notice. Don't let the world pass you by, I shall tell them.., For the sun, I shall say, open your eyes for that laaaarge sun... (A.W.) ".. .I r-r-r-ruin my character by remaining with a Ladyship so infame!" (D.) You have no conception no conception of what we are fighting over here. (H. L.) 8. "Oh, what's the difference, Mother?" "Muriel, I want to know." (S.) 9. "And it's my bounden duty as a producer to resist every attack on the integrity of American industry to the last ditch. YesSIR!" (S. L.) "Now listen, Ed, stop that, now! I'm desperate. / am desperate, Ed, do you hear? Can't you see?" (Dr.) It was almost three o'clock when Mary Jane finally found Eloise's house. She explained to Eloise, who came out to the drive-way to meet her, that everything had been absolutely perfect, that she had remembered the way exactly, until she had turned off the Merrick Parkway. Eloise said, "Merritt Parkway, baby"... Eloise asked Mary Jane how it happened that she had the day off. Mary Jane said she didn't have the whole day off; it was just that Mr. Weynburg had a hernia and was home in Larchmont, and she had to bring him his mail... She asked Eloise, "Just what exactly is hernia, anyway?" Eloise, dropping her cig-arette on the soiled snow underfoot, said she didn't actually know but that Mary Jane didn't have to worry much about getting one... "No," Eloise was saying, "It was actually red" . . .. "I heard it was blond," Mary Jane repeated... "Uh-uh. Definitely." Eloise yawned. "I was almost in the room with her when she dyed it" . . . (S.) 12. ...When Will's ma was down here keeping house for himshe used to run in to see me, real oftenl (S. L.) II.-Indicate the causes and effects of the following cases of alliteration: Both were flushed, fluttered and rumpled, by the late scuffle. (D.) The moan of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees... (T.) 108

3. His wife was shrill, languid, handsome and horrible. (Sc.F.) 4. .. .he swallowed the hint with a gulp and a gasp and a grin. (R. K.) 5. You lean, long, lanky lath of a lousey bastard... (O'C.) 6. "Luscious, languid and lustful, isn't she?" "Those are not the correct epithets. She isor rather wassurly, lustrous and sadistic." (E.W.) 7. The wicky, wacky, wocky bird, He sings a song that can't be heard. He sings a song that can't be heard. The wicky, wacky, wocky bird. The wicky, wacky, wocky mouse, He built himself a little house... But snug he lived inside his house, -. . The wicky, wacky, wocky mouse. (M. N.) III. State the part of speech, through which onomatopoeia is expressed, and its function. Then with an enormous, shattering rumble, sludge-puff sludge... puff, the train came into the station. (A. S.) "I hope it comes and zzzzzz everything before it." (Th.W.) 3. I had only this one year of working without shhh! (D.C.) Cecil was immediately shushed. (H.L.) Streaked by a quarter moon, the Mediterranean shushed gently into the beach. (I. Sh.) "Shsh." "But I am whispering." This continual shushing an-noyed him. (A. H.) 7. The Italian trio... tut-tutted their tongues at me. (T.C.) IV. Analyse the following cases of occasional graphon and indicate the causes which produced the mispronunciation (or misinterpretation) of a word, reflected in graphon (age, lack of education, intoxication, stutter, etc.): 1. "What is that?" "A ninsek," the girl said. (H.L.) 2. My daddy's coming tomorrow on a nairplane. (S.) 109

3. "Why doesn't he have his shirt on?" the child asks distinctly. "I don't know," her mother says. "I suppose he thinks he has a nice chest." "Is that his boo-zim?" Joyce asks. "No, darling: only ladies have bosom." (U.) After a hum a beautiful Negress sings "Without a song, the dahay would nehever end..." (U.) He ducks into the Ford and in that dusty hot interior starts to murmur: "Ev, reebody loves the, cha cha cha." (U.) He spoke with the flat ugly "a" and withered "r" o) Boston Irish, and Levy looked up at him and mimicked "All right, I'll give the caaads a break and staaat play-ing." (N.M.) "...Ford automobile ... operates on a rev-rev-a-lu-shun-ary principle." (St.).. .she returned to Mexico City at noon. Next morning the children made a celebration and spent their time writing on the blackboard, "We lov ar ticher." (K.A.P.) 9. She mimicked a lisp. "I don't weally know wevver I'm a good girl." (J. Br.) 10. "Who are they going to hang for it?" he asked Tom. "Probably the Vicar. They know that the last thing he'd do would be to be mixed up with a howwid woman." (J. Br.) V. Proceeding from your reading experience classify the following examples of permanent graphon according to patterns of their formation and frequency of usage. "I got to meet a fella," said Joe. Alf pretended not to hear him... He saw with satisfaction that the fella Joe was going to meet would wait a long time. (St.) He's the only one of your friends who's worth tup-pence, anyway. (O.) Now pour us another cuppa. (A. W.) How are you, dullin? (O.) Come on, I'll show you summat. (St. B.) Well, I dunno. I was kinda threatening him. (St. B.) "...I declare I don't know how you spend it all." "Aw, Ma,I gotta lotta things to buy." (Th.W.) "That's my nickname, Cat. Had it all my life. They 110

say my old lady must of been scared by a cat when she was having me." (St.) 9."Ifope you fellers don't mind. Gladys, I told you we oughtn't.to of eaten them onions, not before comin' on the boat.""Gimme a kiss an' I'll tell ye if I mind or not." said Ike. (J.D.P.) Say, Ike, what do you think we oughta do? I think we oughta go down on the boat to Seattle, Wash., like a coupla dude passengers. (J.D.P.)Wilson was a little hurt. "Listen, boy," he told him, "Ah may not be able to read eve'thin' so good, but they ain't a thing Ah can't do if Ah set mah mind to it." (N.M.) VI. Substitute the given graphons by their normative graphical interpretation: 1."You remember him at all?" "Just, sort of. Little ole private? Terribly unattrac-tive." (S.) "You're one that ruint it." (J.) "You ast me a question. I answered it for you."(J.) "You'll probly be sick as a dog tomorra, Tills." (J.) Marrow said: "Chawming climate out heah in the tropics, old chap." (J.H.) What this place needs is a woman's touch, as they say in the pitchers. (I. Sh.) 7. "You ain't invited," Doll drawled. "Whada you mean I ain't invited?" (J.) "I've never seen you around much with the rest of the girls. Too bad! Otherwise we rnighta met. I've met all the rest of 'em so far." (Dr.) You're French Canadian aintcha? I bet all the girls go for you, I bet you're gonna be a great success. (J. K.) 10. "You look awfulwhatsamatter with your face?" (J.K.) 11. "Veronica," he thought. "Why isn't she here? Godamnit, why isn't she here?" (I. Sh.) 111 "Wuddaya think she's doing out there?" (S.) ". . . for a helluva intelligent guy you're about as tactless as it's humanly possible to be." (S.) "Ah you guys whattaya doin?" (J. K.)

How many cupsacoffee you have in Choy's this morning? (J.) You been in the army what now? Five years? Fivenahalf? It's about time for you to get ovef bein a punk ree-croot. (J.) "What you gonna do, Mouse?" (J. K.) "Do me a favor. Go out in the kitchen and tell whosis to give her her dinner early. Willya?" (S.) "Dont'cha remember me?" he laughed. (T. R.) ...looking him straight in the eye, suggested. "Meetcha at the corner?" (S.) "Whatch'yu want? This is Rome." (I.Sh.) "Whereja get all these pictures?" he said. (S.)

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CHAPTER III FUNCTIONAL STYLES The forthcoming samples of English functional styles, among which, after Prof. I. R. Galperin,* we,differentiate official, scientific, publicist, newspaper and belles-lettres style, present examples only of the first four, for the last one is duly represented in the preceding and following chapters of the manual. I. Analyse the following, indicating basic styleforming characteristics of each discussed style and tne overlap-ping features. (1) Supplement to Tank Steamer Voyage Charter Party War Risk Clauses The Master shall not be required or bound to sign Bills of Lading for any blocaded port or for any port which the Master or Owners in his or their discretion consider dangerous or impossible to enter or reach. A. If any port of discharge named in this charter party or to which the vessel may properly be ordered pursuant to the terms of the Bill of Lading be blocaded, or B. If owing to any war, hostilities, warlike operations, civil war, civil commotions, revolutions, or the opera-tion of the

international law (a) entry to discretion dangerous or imany such port of discharge of possible for the vessel to cargo intended for any such reach such discharging portport be considered by the the cargo or such part of it as Master or Owners in his or may be affected shall be distheir discretion danger-ous charged at any other safe or prohibited or (b) it be port in the vicinity of the considered by the Master or said Owners in his or their * /. R. Galperin. Ocherki po stilistike anglijskogo jazika. Mosc., 1958, p. 342344. 8 53 113

port of discharge as may be ordered by the Charterers (provided such other port is not blocaded or that entry thereto or discharge of cargo thereat is not in Master's or Owners' discretion dangerous or prohibited). If no such orders be received from the Charterers within 48 hours af-ter they or their agents have received from the Owners a request for the nomination of a substitute discharging port, the Owners shall be at liberty to discharge the cargo at any safe port which they or the Master may in their dis-cretion decide on and such discharge shall be deemed to be due fulfillment of the contract or contracts of affreight-ment so far as the cargo so discharged is concerned... (2) Letter of the Cargo Receivers in Reply to Their Request for Fractional Layer Discharging of Oil: Liverpool, 17th July 19. . . Messrs. M. Worthington & Co., Ltd., Oil Importers, c/o Messrs. Williams & Co.; Ship Agents, 17 Fenchurch Street, London, E., C, England Dear Sirs, Re: 9500 tons of Edible Oil under B/L Nos.: -2732, 3734, 4657 m/t Gorky ar'd 16.07. In connection with your request to start discharging the above cargo first by pumping out bottom layer 1'2' deep into barges and then to go on with pumping the rest of the cargo into shore tanks I wish to point out the follow-ing. As per clause of the Bill of Lading "Weight, quantity and quality unknown to me" the carrier is not responsible for the quantity and quality of the goods, but it is our duty to deliver the cargo in the same good order and conditions as loaded, it means that we are to deliver the cargo in accordance with the measurements taken after loading and in conformity with the samples taken from each tank on completion of loading. Therefore if you insist upon such a fractional layer discharging of this cargo, I would kindly ask you to send

your representative to take joint samples and measure-ments of each tank, on the understanding that duplicate samples, jointly taken and sealed, will be kept aboard our ship for further reference. The figures, obtained from these measurements and analyses will enable you to give us clean receipts for the cargo in question, after which we shall immediately start discharging the cargo in full compliance with your instructions. It is, of course, understood, that, inasmuch as such discharging is not in strict compliance with established practice, you will bear all the responsibility, as well as the expenses and/or consequences arising therefrom, which please confirm. Yours faithfully C. I. Shilov Master of the m/t Gorky. 2.38 p.m. (3) Speech of Viscount Swinton at the House of Lords: Customs and Excise Bill 2.38 p.m. Order of the day for the second reading read. THE CHANCELLOR of the DUCHY OF LANCASTER (Viscount Swinton): My Lords, I think that if ever consolidation was justified of her children and came as a boon and a blessing to men, it is so with this Bill. Until the year 1909 Customs and Excise were administered in two separate departments, with a completely separate admin-istration. But there was not only that complication to face. The law of Customs and Excise was scattered over 200 Acts of Parliament which had grown up in the course of 150 years. How anyone could find their way through that forest of ancient timber and dead wood is a mystery to me. It must have involved an appalling waste of time on the part of the staffs in any trade of business, in spite of the help given to them by the Customs and Excise, who I think kept almost a corps of guides to help the ordinary waylarer through the intricacies of the subject... (July 21st, 1952) 8*

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(4) Speech of Viscount Simon of the House of Lords: Defamation Bill 3.12. p.m. ...Viscount SIMON: The noble and learned Earl, Lord Jowitt, made a speech of much persuasiveness on the second reading raising this point, and today as is natural and proper, he has again presented with his usual skill, and I am sure with the greatest sincerity, many of the same considerations. I certainly do not take the view that the argument in this matter is all on the side. One could not possibly say that when one considers that there is con-siderable academic opinion at the present time in favour of this change, and in view of the fact that there are other countries under the British Flag where, I understand, there was a change in the law, to a greater or less degree, in the direction which the noble and learned Earl so earnestly recommends to the House. But just as I am very willing to accept the view that the case for resisting the noble Earl's Amendment is not overwhelming, so I do not think it reasonable that the view should be taken that the argu-ment is practically and considerably the other way. The real truth is that, in framing statuary provisions about the law of defamation, we have to choose the sensible way between two principles, each of which is greatly to be admired but both of which run into some conflict. (July 28, 1952) (5) Letter to Lord Chesterfield February 7th, 1755 My Lord, I have been lately informed, by the proprietor of The World, that two papers, in which my "Dictionary" is re-commended to the public, were written by your Lordship. To be so distinguished is an honour, which, being very little accustomed to favours from the great, I know not well how to receive or in what terms to acknowledge. When, with some slight encouragement, I first visited your Lordship, I was overpowered, like the rest of mankind,

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by the enchantment of your address, and could not forbear to wish that I might boast myself "Le vainqueur du vain-queur de la terre", that I might obtain that regard for which I saw the world contending; but I found my atten-dance so little encouraged that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to continue it. When I had once addressed your Lordship in public, I had exhausted all the art of pleas-ing which a retired and uncourtly scholar can possess. I had done all that I could; and no man is well pleased to have his all neglected, be it ever so little. Seven years, My Lord, have now passed since I waited in your outward rooms or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been pushing on my work through difficulties, of which it is useless to complain, and have brought it at last to the verge of publication, without' one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile of favour. Such treatment I did not expect, for I nev-er had a patron before. The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with love, and found him a native of the rocks. Is not a patron, My Lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and when he has reached ground, encumbers him with help? The notice you have been pleased to take of my labours, had it been early, had been kind; but it has been delayed till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it; till I am solitary and cannot impart it; till I am known and do not want it. I hope it is no very cynical asperity, not to confess obliga-tions when no benefit has been received; or to be unwilling that the public should consider me as owing that to a pat-ron, which Providence has enabled me to do for myself. Having carried on my work thus far with so little obli-gation to any favourer of learning, I shall now be disap-pointed though I should conclude it, if less be possible, with less; for I have been long wakened from that dream of hope in which I once boasted myself with so much exultation, My Lord, Your Lordship's most humble, most obedient Servant Sam Jonson (6) A Popular Account of Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa (by D. Livingstone) 117

We had come through another tsetse district by night... This insect, Glossina morsitants of the naturalist, is not much larger than the common house-fly, and is nearly of the same brown colour as the honey-bee. The after part of the body has three or four yellow bars across it. It is remarkably alert, and evades dexterously all attempts to capture it with the hand at common temperatures. In the cool of the mornings and evenings it is less agile. Its pe. culiar buzz when once heard can never be forgotten by the traveller whose means of locomotions are domestic animals; for its bite is death, to the ox, horse and dog. In this journey, though we watched the animals carefully, and believe that not a score of flies were ever upon them, they destroyed forty-three fine oxen. A most remarkable feature is the perfect harmlessness of the bite in man and wild animals, and even calves so long as they continue to suck, the cows, though it is no protection to the dog, to feed him on milk. The poison does not seem to be injected by a sting, or by ova placed beneath the skin, for when the insect is allowed to feed freely on the

hand, it inserts the middle prong of three portions, into which the proboscis divides, some-what deeply into the true skin. It then draws the prong out a little way, and it assumes a crimson colour as the mandibles come into brisk operation. The previously shrun-ken belly swells out, and if undisturbed, the fly quietly de-parts when it is full. A slight itching irritation follows the bite. In the ox the immediate effects are no greater than in man; but a lew days afterwards the eye and nose begin to run, the cough starts, a swelling appears under the jaw, and sometimes at the navel; and though the poor creature con-tinues to graze, emaciation commences, accompanied with a peculiar flaccidity of the muscles. This proceeds unchecked until, perhaps months afterwards, purging comes on, and the victim dies in a state of extreme exhaustion. The animals which are in good condition often perish soon after the bite is inflicted, with staggering and blindness, as if the brain were affected. Sudden changes of tempera-tuie produced by falls of rain seem to hasten the progress of the complaint; but in general the

wasting goes on for months.

(7) Turbine Characteristics With Respect to Form of Blade Passages Impulse Turbine.It may be defined as a system in which all steam expansion takes place in fixed nozzles and none occurs in passages among moving blades. A Single-State or SimpleImpulse Turbine. Here the steam expands from its initial to its final pressure in one nozzle (or one set of nozzles, all working at the same pressure), resulting in a steam jet of high velocity which enters the blade passages and, by exerting a force on them due to being deflected in direction, turns the rotor. Energy of all forms remaining in the steam after it leaves the single row of blading is lost. The steam volume increases whenever the pressure decreases, but the resulting velocity changes depend on the type of turbine. As a matter of fact, these velocity changes are distinguishing characteristics of the different types. A Velocity-Stage Impulse Turbine has one set of nozzles, with several rows of blades following it. In passing from the nozzle exit through one set of blades, the velocity of the steam is lowered by

virtue of the work done on the blades but is still high. It then passes through a row of fixed guide blades which change the direction of the steam until it flows approximately parallel to the original nozzle direction, discharging it into a second row of blading fixed to the same wheel. The second row again lowers the steam velocity by virtue of the work delivered to the wheel. A second set of guide blades and a third row of moving blades are sometimes used. The steam enters through a steam strainer and governor valve into a steam chest supplying the various nozzles 1

spaced around a portion of the periphery. Individual nozzles may be opened or closed by a hand-wheel on the stem of the nozzle-control valve. The turbine wheel is mounted on a shaft which passes through the casing to bearings outside, carbon packing being used in the shaft glands of this turbine to maintain steam tightness. The governor is mounted on the right-hand end of the shaft and operates the balanced piston governor valve through a lever and link. On the left end of the shaft goes the coupling for attaching the driven machinery. (E.M.) 1

(8) Some Notes on Poetry Taking English Poetry in the common sense of the word as a peculiar form of the language, we find that it differs from prose mainly in having a regular succession of accen-ted syllables. In short it possesses metre as its chief char-acteristic feature. Every line is divided into so many feet, composed of short and long syllables arranged accord-ing to certain laws of prosody. With a regular foot-fall the voice steps or matches along the line, keeping time like the soldier on drill, or the musician among his bars. In many languages syllables have a quantity, which makes them intrinsically long or short; but in English poetry that syllable alone is long on which an accent falls. Poets, there-fore, in the use of that license which they have, or take, sometimes shift an accent to suit their measure. The inversion of the order of words, within certain limits, is a necessary consequence of throwing language into a metri-cal form. Poetry, then, differs from prose, in the first place, in having metre; and as a consequence of this, in adopting an unusual arrangement of words and phrases... We must have, in addition to the metrical form, the use of uncommon words and turns of expressions, to lift the language above the level of written prose. Shakespeare, instead of saying, as he would, no doubt, have done in telling a ghost story to his wife, "The clock then striking one", puts into the mouth of the sentinel, Bernardo, "The bell then beating one". When Thomson describes the spring-ploughing, the ox becomes a steer, the plough is the shining share, and the upturned earth appears in this verse as the globe. The use of periphrasis here comes largely to the poet's aid. Birds are children of the sky, songsters of the grove, tuneful choirs etc.; ice is a chrystal floor, or a sheet of polished steel. These are almost all figurative forms, and it is partly by the abundant use of figures that the higher level of speech is gained. (M. S.) (9) Of Studies Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their chief use for delight, is in privateness and retiring; for ornament, is in discourse; and for ability, is in the judgment and disposition of business; for expert men can 120

execute, and perhaps judge of particulars, one by one: but the general counsels, and the plots and marshalling of affairs come best from those that are learned. To spend too much time in studies, is sloth; to use them too much for ornament, is affectation, to make judgment wholly by their rules, is the humour of a scholar: they perfect nature, and are perfected by experience: for natural abilities are like natural plants, that need pruning by study; and studies themselves do give forth directions too much at large, except they be bounded in by experience. Crafty men con-demn studies; simple men admire them and wise men use them; for they teach not their own use; but what is a wis-dom without them and above them, won by observation. Read not to contradict and confute, nor to believe and take for granted, nor to find talk and discourse, but to weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read but not curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention. Some books also may be read by deputy, and extracts made of them by others; but that would be only in the less important arguments and the meaner sort of books; else distilled books are, like common distilled waters, flashy things. Reading maketh a full man; conference a ready man; and writing an exact man; and, therefore, if a man write little, he had need have a great memory; if he confer little, he had need have a present wit; and if he read little, he need have much cunning, to seem to know that he doth not. Histories make men wise; poets, witty; the mathematics, subtle; natural philosophy, deep; moral, grave; logic and rhetoric, able to contend: "Abeunt studia in mores";* there is no stand or impediment in the wit, but may be wrought out by fit studies: like as diseases of the body may have appropriate exercises: bowling is good for the tone and veins, shoot-ing for the lungs and breast, gentle walking for the stom-ach, riding for the head and the like; so if a man's wit be wandering, let him study the mathematics; for in demonstrations, if his wit be called away ever so little, he must begin again; if his wit be not apt to distinguish or find difference, let him study schoolmen; for they are * "Studies become habits."

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"Cymini sectors".* If he be not apt to beat over matters and so call up one thing to prove and illustrate another, let him study the lawyer's cases; so every defect of the mind may have a special receipt. (Fr. .) (10) London in 1689 He who then rambled to what is now the gayest and most crowded part of Regent Street found himself in a solitude, and was sometimes so fortunate as to have a shot at a woodcock. On the north the Oxford road ran between hedges. Three of four hundred yards to the south were the garden walls of a few great houses, which were considered as quite out of town. On the west was a meadow renowned for a spring from which, long afterwards, Conduit Street was named. On the east was a field not to be passed with-out a shudder by any Londoner of that age. There, as in a place far from the haunts of men, had been dug, twenty years before, when the great plague was raging, a pit into which the dead carts had nightly shot corpses by scores. It was popularly believed that the earth was deeply tainted with infection, and could not be disturbed without immi-nent risk to human life. No foundations were laid there till two generations have passed without any return of the pestilence, and till the ghastly spot had long been surround-ed by buildings. We should greatly err if we were to suppose that any of the streets and squares then bore the same aspect as at present. The great majority of the houses, indeed, have, since that time, been wholly, or in great part, rebuilt. If the most fashionable parts of the capital could be placed before us, such as they then were, we should be disgusted by their squalid appearance, and poisoned by their noisome atmosphere. When such was the state of the region inhabited by the most luxurious portion of society, we may easily believe that the great body of the population suffered what would now be considered as insupportable grievances. The pave-ment was detestable; all foreigners cried shame upon it. The drainage was so bad that in rainy weather the gutters * hair-splitters

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soon became torrents. This flood was profusely thrown to eight and left by coaches and carts. To keep as far from the carriage road as possible was therefore the wish of every pedestrian. The mild and the timid gave the wall. The bold and athletic took it. The houses were not numbered. There would indeed have been little advantage in numbering them; for of the coachmen, chairmen, porters, and errand boys of London, a very small proportion could read. It was necessary to use marks which the most ignorant could understand. The shops were therefore distinguished by painted or sculptured signs, which gave a gay and grotesque aspect to the streets. The walk from Charing Cross to Whitechapel lay through an endless succession of Saracens' Heads, Royal Oaks, Blue Bears, and Golden Lambs, which disappeared when they were no longer required for the direction of the common people. When the evening closed in, the difficulty and danger of walking about London became serious indeed. The garret windows were opened and pails were emptied, with little regard to those who were passing below. Falls, bruises, and broken bones were of constant occurrence. For, till the last year of the reign of Charles the Second, most of the streets were left in profound darkness. Thieves and robbers plied their trade with impunity: yet they were hardly so terrible to peaceable citizens as another class of ruffians. It was a favourite amusement of dissolute young gentlemen to swagger by night about the town, breaking windows, upsetting sedans, beating quiet men, and offering rude caresses to pretty women. The machinery for keeping the peace was utterly contemptible. There was an Act of Common Council which provided that more than a thousand watchmen should be constantly on the alert in the city, from sunset to sunrise, and that every inhabitant should take his turn of duty. But this Act was negligently executed. Few of those who were summoned left their homes: and those few generally found it more agreeable to drink in alehouses than to pace the streets. In the last year of the reign of Charles the Second, an ingenious Londoner, named Edward Heming, obtained letters patent conveying to him, for a term of years, the exclusive right of lighting up London. He undertook, for a moderate consideration to place a light before every tenth

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door, on moonless nights, from Michaelmas* to Lady Day,** and from six to twelve o'clock. Those who now see the capital all the year round, from dusk to dawn, blazing with light, may perhaps smile to think of Heming's lanterns which glimmered feebly before one house in ten during a small part of one night in three. (Th. M.) (11) Dependent STUDENTS who want a bigger say in the running of universities will be reinforced in their view by the latest effort of the vice-chancellor of Liverpool University and some other academics. Today these allegedly wise and learned individuals issue, under the patronage of the Right-Wing Institute of Economic Affairs a statement of the "urgency of establish-ing an independent university". By "independent" they mean one which is dependent on finance from rich private individuals and Big Business, instead of from the Government. It is a monstrous misuse of the English language to claim that such a university would be independent. It would depend entirely on the good will of the rich, and would find its finances cut off immediately if it displeased them. Universities already have to rely too much on Big Business sources of finance, including from US and other firms engaged in war preparations. Whatever criticisms there may be about the Govern-ment's part in their finance at any rate there is some possi-bility of democratic control over the public money allocated to the universities. There would be none if it all came as a result of board-room decisions. (M.S. 3.1.1969) (12) No to NED SCOTTISH miners know from their own experience what Tory planning means. In the Scottish coalfield Gov-ernment planning aims to close pits employing 5,000 men. * 29th September ** 25th March

This is a plan for poverty and the Scottish area of the Rational Union of Mineworkers is resisting it. It ought to he able to count on the Trades Union Congress for help. But the T.U.C. leaders by a majority have decided to join Mr. Selwyn Lloyd's National Economic Development Council. They are thus to take part in the work of an organisation set up by the Tories to carry out Tory eco-nomic policy. The T.U.C. chiefs say they will be able to criticize the Government's proposals. They can do so more effectively if they refrain from wedding NED. By joining NED, the T.U.C. weakens the fight against Tory pay-pause policies and the Tory Government. Mr. Gaitskell will have a convenient excuse to soft-pedal La-bour's attack. He will be able to trot out arguments against embar-rassing "our T.U.C. friends who are engaged in compli-cated and delicate discussions" and so forth. The T.U.C. should be told to keep out of NED and help to smash the pay-pause instead. (D. W. 30.1.1962) (13) American Rocket Launched Cape Canaveral, Friday. A 100-FOOT high Atlas-Agena rocket streaked into the sky here today carrying robot spacecraft which it was hoped would photograph the moon at close range and crashland instruments on it. The rocket soared like a silver streak into the cloudless sky, its rocket engines thundering back and the almost white light of the spewing flames becoming a pin-point. The rocket was still in view three minutes after launch as it streaked into the upper atmosphere. National Aeronautics and Space Administration an-nounced the Atlas booster had burned out on time five minutes after launch at an altitude of about 150 miles. The rocket and its space capsule was then coasting for about half a minute before explosive charges were due to release the Agena second-stage rocket from the Atlas.

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The condensation trail, several thousand feet above the launching paid, shifted into a giant question mark as the wind caught itan apt sign of the question that will re-main unanswered until some time on Monday whether the capsule has made contact with the moon.Reuter. (D.W. 27.1.1962) CHAPTER IV EXCERPTS FOR COMPLEX STYLISTIC ANALYSIS In Arthur Calgary's fatigued brain the word seemed to dance on the wall. Money! Money! Money! Like a motif in an opera, he thought. Mrs. Argyle's money! Money put into trust! Money put into an annuity! Residual estate left to her husband! Money got from the bank! Money in the bureau drawer! Hester rushing out to her car with no mon-ey in her purse... Money found on Jacko, money that he swore his mother had given him. (Ch.) In her father's desk at the store was a revolvera large, firm, squarish mechanism which as she had heard him say, fired eight shots. It was so heavy, so blue, so cold. She had seen it, touched it, lifted it oncebut with a kind of terror really. It was always so identified with death, angernot lifebut nowsupposing, if she desired to punish Edward and herselfor just herself alone. But no, that was not the way. What was the way, anyhow? What was the way? (Dr.) Hail, Nickel. Mother of Murder! Blessed destroyer of human flesh! Balm of twenty-six million corpses in six years! Hail, sav-iour of our way of life, sublime bestower of wages and dividends! Holy Nickel, have mercy on us, we who are about to begin once again greater and greater production, for higher wages, to pile up millions upon millions more dead! (D. C.) 4. Presently one of these became prominent. He was a middle-aged child who had never shed its baby-fat, though some gifted tailor had almost succeeded in camouflaging his plump and spankable bottom. There wasn't a suspicion of bone in his body; his face, a zero filled in with pretty miniature features, had an unused, a virginal quality: it was as if he'd been born, then expanded, his skin remaining unlined as a blown up balloon, and his mouth, though ready for squalls and tantrums, a spoiled sweet puckering. But it was not appearance that singled him out; preserved infants aren't all that rare. It was, rather, his conduct; 127

for he was behaving as though the party were his: like an energetic octopus, he was shaking martinis, making introductions, manipulating the phonograph. (T. C.) 5. If any dispassionate spectator could have beheld the countenance of the illustrious man, whose name forms the leading feature of the title of this work, during the latter part of this conversation, he would have been almost induced to wonder that the indignant fire that flashed from his eyes, did not melt the glasses of his spectaclesso majestic was his wrath. His nostrils dilated, and his fists clenched involuntarily, as he heard himself addressed by the villain. But he restrained himself againhe did not pulverize him. "Here," continued the hardened traitor, tossing the li-cence at Mr. Pickwick's feet; "get the name alteredtake home the lady do for Tuppy." (D.) 6. That meeting! Goebbels could have put it straight on the air. If the war efforts could survive meetings like that all over the country, it ought to be able to defeat Hitler. The Hall looked like a cheap coffin on a very large scale. It showed a lot of flags, proving definitely that it was on our side... It was comfortably filled with members of the employing, shop-keeping, suburban classes, the work-ing folk having their meetings in the factory canteens. The Mayor of Gretley was in the chair and read his open-ing remarks so slowly that even words like "which" and "where" began to take on a strange and rather sinister significance, as if there was black magic about. After telling us that the local member of Parliament needed no introduction, he introduced us to the local important little man, who looked like an angry wedding guest. His trick was to shout platitudes at us in a furious voice, as if we'd all been arguing for hours and his patience was exhausted. Apparently some very minor government appointment, but he tried to give us the idea that he and Churchill split the war work between them. He wasn't very consistent. He blamed us because, he said, we didn't realize this was our war, but at the same time he gave us to understand that the war really belonged to him and a few friends of his in Westminster. He was angry because there was too much criticism, too many of us were "sitting about and critici-zing", but he was also annoyed becaifse we were all far too complacent, and he said that complacency was really 128

the great danger. I got the idea from him that hardly any- body was playing the game, though he didn't tell us what game. In the end it turned out that he and the Empire were fighting for freedom, that they'd always stood for it, and that now they refused to let it die. For which we all gave him a good round. (P.) 7. The mid-summer Louisiana sun was a red blotch in the hazy sky. To, the three men in the open touring car it felt like a blowtorch, suspended a foot above them. Two of the men lay sprawled out on the back seat with their coats off, with soggy handkerchiefs wrapped about their necks, and with their mouths sagging open as though they were a pair of strangled fish. (Al.M.) 8. But about the paper-mill there was a peculiar quality. Perhaps he sensed it. The paper-makerthe actual worker in a paper-millhad a craft pride. The thing he made was clean, essential and intricate. Its process required more than mere mechanical skill. It went back and back and back to the dim past when the Chinese had made paper in A. D. 105. The Arabs in Mecca. The moors in Spain. It was a heritage from the days of papirus. The crusades were in its story. In it you saw monks bent over handillumined parchment, you saw Egyptian emperors perusing the scroll held by the upraised arms of Nubian slaves. For two thousand years all the important events of the world had been inscribed on pieces of paper. Nations had risen and fallen by pieces of paper; millions of lives had been lost or gained by them; queens had been made; slaves freed; billions manipulated; religion spread; education made universal. Paper was just white stock to Barney Glasgow. (E. F.) 9. A shot fell. Then shouts, some angry, some desperate. The quick crackling of dry wood aflame cut through the night. Troy grabbed his pistol and rushed out. One of the huts was burning, the fire shooting up steeply in the quiet air. Its flames outlined the hut sharply; and faces and struggling arms showed behind the glowing windows. Shrill, screams rose over the roar of the fire. Outside, the glow lighted the milling, swirling, shout-ing crowd... They're armed, damn it! Troy thought. (St.H.) 10. "Why, in the name of all the infernal powers, 129

Mrs. Merdle, who does more for Society than I do? Do u see these premises, Mrs. Merdle? Do you see-this furniture, Mrs. Merdle? Do you look in the glass and see yourself Mrs. Merdle? Do you know the cost of all this, and who it's provided for? And yet will you tell me that I oughtn't to go into Society? I, who shower money upon it in this way? I, who might be almost saidtototo harness myself to a watering-cart full of money, and go about, sat-urating Society, every day of my life?" (D.) 11. She had no fearshe had no distrustshe had no suspicion, all was confidence and reliance. "Mr. Bardell," said the widow. "Mr. Bardell was a man of honourMr. Bardell was a man of his wordMr. Bar-dell was no deceiverMr. Bardell was once a single gen-tleman himself; to single gentlemen I look for protection, for assistance, for comfort, and for consolationin single gentlemen I shall perpetually see something to remind me of what Mr. Bardell was, when he first won my young and untried affections; to a single genleman, then, shall my lodgings be let." (D.) 12. Bing picked up the microphone. A little black bug, disturbed by the sudden move, hastily scampered down a blade of grass and hid behind a crumb of earth. "Very sensible little bug,"thought Bing. He began to speak."Achtung! Achtung!" His voice came surprisingly strong over the amplifiers. "Achtung! Deutsche Soldaten!" . It wasn't his voice at all. It sounded strangely sure and confident, almost cocky. He smiled. The tension had gone from his body. He felt more comfortable and slightly shift-ed his position to give better support to the elbow of the arm holding the microphone. His mind was clear. (St. H.) 13. The last faculty reception before commencement. In five days they would be in cyclone of final examinations. The house of the president has been massed with palms suggestive of polite undertaking parlours, and in the lib-rary, the ten-foot room with a globe and a portrait of Whit-tier and Martha Washington, the student orchestra was playing "Carmen" and "Madame Butterfly". Carol was dizzy with music and the emotions of parting. She saw the palms as a jungle, the pink-shaded electric globes as 130

an opaline haze, and the eye-glassed faculty as Olympians. She was melancholy at the sight of the mousey girls with whom she had "always intended to get acquainted," and the half dozen young men who were ready to fall in love with her. (S.L.) Before I try to tell all that happened that last day, Saturday, when, because of some mounting impatience I'd never felt before while working for the department, I bus-tled the whole job into the bag, I ought to give you a sketch of the background, so that you can keep it in mind all the lime. A cold wet Saturday in late January, 1942, with the Japanese swarming nearer and nearer Singapore, and pushing down towards Australia, temporary stalemate in Lybia, no bombing of Germany because of the weather, and the general feeling of uneasiness and disillusion. A cold wet Saturday in Gretley, with a half hearted sort of market in the square, dripping queues here and there outside the shops and, later the picturetheatres, and everywhere the stream and reek of wet clothes. Never quite full daylight, and with the blackout waiting just round the corner. (P.) Sophia alone, in the corner next to the wall, with her beautiful stern face pressed convulsively against her hands, was truly busy with immortal things. Turbulent heart, the violence of her spiritual life had made her older! Never was a passionate, proud girl in a harder case than Sophia! In the splendour of her remorse for a fatal forget-fulness she had renounced that which she loved and thrown herself into that which she loathed. It was her nature to do so. She had done it haughtily, and not with kindness, but she had done it with the whole force of her will. Constance had been compelled to yield up to her the millinery depart-ment, for Sophia's fingers had a gift of manipulating ribbons and feathers that was beyond Constance. Sophia had accomplished miracles in the millinery. Yes, and she would be utterly polite to customers; but afterwards, when the customers were gone, let mothers, sisters, and Mr. Povey beware of her fiery darts! (A. B.) Fur coats, fur caps, fur mittens, overshoes buckling almost to the knees, gray knitted scarfs ten feet long, thick woolen socks, canvas jackets lined with fluffy yellow wool like the plumage of ducklings, moccasins, red flannel wristlets for the blazing chapped wrists of boysthese protections against winter were busily dug out of moth9* 131

ball-sprinkled drawers and tar-bags in closets, and all over town small boys were squealing, "Oh, there's my mittens!" or "Look at my shoe-packs!" There is so sharp a division between the panting summer and the stinging winter of the Northern plains that they rediscovered with surprise and a feeling of heroism this armour of an Arctic explorer. (S.L.) Joe: Me neider. If dere's one ting more'n anudder I cares nuttin' about, it's de sucker game you and Hugo call de Movement. Reminds me of damn fool argument me and Mose Porter has de udder night. He's drunk and I'm drunk-er. He says, 'Socialist and Anarchist, we ought to shoot dem dead. Dey's all nogood sons of bitches.' I says, 'Hold on, you talk's if Anarchists and Socialists was de same' "Dey is," he says, "Dey's both no-good bastards." "No, dey ain't," I say. "I'll explain the difference. De Anarchist he never works. He drinks but he never buys, and if he do ever get a nickel, he blows it in on bombs, and he wouldn't give you nothin'. So go ahead and shoot him. But de Socialist, sometimes, he's got a job, and if he gets ten bucks, he's bound by his religion to split fiftyfifty

wid you. You sayhow about my cut, comrade? And you gets de five. So you don't shoot no Socialists while I'm around: Dat is, not if dey got anything. Of course, if dey's broke, den dey's no-good bastards, too." (O'N.) Under the rolling clouds of the prairie a moving mass of steel. An irritable clank and rattle beneath a pro-longed roar. The sharp scent of oranges cutting the soggy smell of unbathed people and ancient baggage. Towns as planless as a scattering of pasteboard boxes on an attic floor. The, stretch of faded gold stubble broken only by clumps of willows encircling white houses and red barns. No. 7, the way train, grumbling through Minnesota, imperceptibly climbing the giant tableland that slopes in a thousandmile rise from hot Mississippi bottoms to the Rockies. It is September, hot, very dusty. (S. L.) 19. He looked at his watch and as the second hand touched the top stepped up and raised the bugle to the megaphone, and the nervousness dropped from him like a discarded blouse, and he was suddenly alone, gone away

from the rest of them. The first note was clear and abso-

lutely certain. There was no question of stumbling in this bugle. It swept across the quadrangle positively, held just a fraction longer than most buglers hold it. Held long like the length of time, stretching away from weary day to weary day. Held long like thirty years. The second note was short, almost too short, abrupt... Cut short and too soon gone, like the minutes with a whore. Short like a ten minute break is short. And then the last note of the first phrase rose triumphantly from the slightly broken rhythm, triumphantly high on an untouchable level of pride above the humiliations, the degradations. He played it all that way with a paused, then hurried rhythm that no metronome could follow. There was no placid regimental tempo to this Taps. The notes rose high in the air and hung above the quadrangle. They vibrated there, caressingly, filled with an infinite sadness, an endless patience, a pointless pride, the requiem and epitaph of the common soldier, who smelled like a common soldier, as a woman once had told him. They hovered like halos over the heads of the sleeping men in the darkened bar-racks, turning all grossness to the

beauty that is the beauty of sympathy and understanding. Here we are, they said, you made us, now see us, don't close your eyes and shudder at it, this beauty, and this sorrow, of things as they are. This is the true song, the song of the muck, not of battle heroes; the song of the Stockade prisoners itchily stinking, sweating under coats of grey rock dust; the song of the mucky KP's, of the men without women... This is the song of the scum; the Aqua-Velva drinkers, the shameless ones who greedily drain the half filled glasses, some of them lipsticksmeared, that the party-ers can afford to leave unfinished. (J.) 20. "But I want to do 1

something with life." "What's better than making a comfy home and bringing up some cute kids and knowing nice homely people?" It was the immemorial male reply to the restless woman. Thus to the young Sappho spake the melon-venders; thus the captains to Zenobia; and in the damp cave over gnawed bones the hairy suitor thus protested to the woman advo-cate of matriarchy. In the dialect of Blodgett College but with the voice of Sappho was Carol's answer: "Of course. I know. I suppose that's so. Honestly, I do love children. But there's lots of women that can do house1

work, but Iwell, if you have got a college education, you ought to use it for the world." (S. L.) 21. "Of course, Mr. Antrobus is a very fine man, an excellent husband and father, a pillar of the church, and has all the best interests of the community at heart. Of course, every muscle goes tight every time he passes a policeman; but what I think that there are certain charges that ought not to be made, and I think I may add, ought not to be allowed to be made; we're all human; who isn't? Mrs. Antrobus is as fine a woman as you could hope to see. She lives only for her children; and if it would be any benefit to her children she'd see the rest of us stretched out dead at her feet without turning a hair,that's the truth. If you want to know anything else about Mrs. Antrobus, just go and look at a tigress, and look hard. As to the children Well, Henry Antrobus is a real, clean-cut American boy. He'll graduate from High School one of these days, if they make the alphabet any easier.Henry when he has a stone in his hand, has a perfect aim; he can hit anything from a bird to an older brother,Oh! I didn't mean to say that! but it certainly was an unfortunate accident, and it was very hard getting the police out of the house. Mr. and Mrs. Antrobus' daughter is named Gladys. She'll make sorne good man a good wife some day, if he'll just come down off the movie screen and ask her. So, here we are! We've managed to survive for some time now, catch as catch can, the fat and the lean, and if the dinosaurs don't trample us to death, and if the grasshoppers don't eat up our garden, we'll all live to see, better days, knock on wood. Each new child that's born to the Antrobuses seems to them to be sufficient reason for the whole universe's being set in motion; and each new child that dies seems to them to have been spared a whole world of sorrow, and what the end of it will be is still very much an open question. We've rattled along, hot and cold for some time now and my advice to you is not to inquire into why or whither, but just enjoy your ice cream while it's on your plate, that's my philosophy. , Don't forget that a few years ago we came through the 134

depression by the skin of our teeth! One more tight squeeze like that and where will we be?" (Th.W.) 22. A squat grey building of only thirty-four stories. Over the main entrance the words, CENTRAL LONDON HATCHERY AND CONDITIONING CENTRE, and, in a field, the World's State's motto, COMMUNITY, IDENTITY STABILITY. The enormous room on the ground floor faced towards the north. Cold for all the summer beyond the panes, for all the tropical heat of the room itself, a harsh thin light glared through the windows, hungrily seeking some draped lay figure, some pallid shape of academic goose-flesh, but finding only the glass and nickel and bleakly shining porcelain of the laboratory. Wintriness responded to wintri-ness. The overalls of the workers were white, their hands gloved with a pale corpsecoloured rubber. The light was frozen, dead, a ghost. Only from the yellow barrels of the microscopes did it borrow a certain rich and living sub-stance, lying along the polished tubes like butter, streak after luscious streak in long recession down the work tables. (A.H.) 23. Lieutenant David Yates stood on the drawbridge, his back against the railing, his feet nervously crushing and breaking the fine splinters which formed the top layer of the wood. The sun beat down on him from the sky; under his helmet his head felt like a piece of dough shoved into the oven and about to rise. From the moat, a second, reflected wave of heat was coming at him, carrying with it the foul smell of decaying water plants. Yates wiped away a drop of sweat that was trickling from behind his ear and making its itching way down the side of his neck. He felt sticky and dirty and uncomfortable. Added to everything else was the acute misery of being unable to make up his mind. The dark, cavernous shade of the Chateau's interior... lured him; but he didn't dare leave the bridge for fear of missing Bing and having to delay the start of his mission. It was the same as standing at a street corner, back home, to hail a taxi. No chance. The few that came by would be filled up. But step off the curb to walk or catch the streetcar, and not only would the long-awaited taxi arrive, but somebody else would take it. (St.H.) 24. Abruptly, at five in the afternoon, the station was 135

silenced. Even the carwave, that breath in the ether, was dead. The men charged with the dismantling of the transmitter's vital equipment American soldier technicians and Luxemburg civilian engineersworked with blind haste. They were the same men who had been ready to stick it out until the Nazis were at the master switch; but now their courage was deprived of its meaning and turned into the fallow feeling of What's the sense? The civilians resented the soldiers and those in their own ranks fortunate enough to be on the list of evacuees; the soldiers resented the civilians because they were civilians. Even Labord selected by Loomis to command this rear guard activity, fluttered about like a disturbed sparrow, cluttering up the techni-cians's progress with his constant goading to hurry, hurry! Then the trucks with the transmitter's metal, plastic, and glass cuts came lumbering into the yard of the studio building. Willoughby had arranged for the personnel to leave in two convoysLoomis would take the first one carrying the radio equipment... (St. H.) In a room as dishevelled and filthy as the bedroom, Mrs.

Daniel Povey lay stretched awkwardly on a worn horsehair sofa, her head thrown back, her face discoloured, her eyes bulging, her mouth wet and yawning: a sight horribly offensive. Samuel was frightened; he was struck with fear and with disgust. The singing gas beat down ruthlessly on that dreadful figure. A wife and mother! The lady of a house! The centre of order! The fount of healing! The balm for worry and the refuge of distress! She was vile. Her scanty yellowgrey hair was dirty, her hollowed neck all grime, her hands abominable, her black dress in decay. She was the dishonour of her sex, her situation and her years. She was a fouler obscenity than the inexperi-enced Samuel had ever conceived. And by the door stood her husband, neat, spotless, almost stately, the man who for thirty years had marshalled all his immense pride to suffer this woman, the jolly man who had laughed through thick and thin! Samuel remembered when they were married. And he remembered when, years after their marriage, she was still as pretty, artificial, coquettish, and adamantine in her caprices as a young harlot with a fool at her feet. Time and the slow wrath of God had changed her. (A. B.)

If you're in the field long enough, you develop a

sense for the sudden changes that may come upon you. It's the instinct of a boxer who ducks before he actually sees his adversary's blow. When the road became audible, when the tanks were on them in a matter of minutes or possibly seconds, nobody told themand there was nobody to tell themthat a German column was coming down this east-west road they just had crossed with such care; that German tanks were racing not only along the road proper, but spread out over the field like a dragnet; that the tanks would be between them and the other platoons of their company; that they were cut off, thirty or forty men with infantry weapons, against perhaps as many armoured, heavily armed tanks. But they knew it. It was of these mobile columns with which the Germans had punctured and gashed the front and with which they were pushing the great bulge westward. Fulbright's platoon was no more than a pebble in their way; he had dared ahead too fast, led on by the quiet of the night, and five minutes sooner or five minutes later, his path and that of the tanks would never have crossed. The mind of Lieutenant Fulbright, safely lodged behind his low, sturdy

forehead, chewed on this and on other things. (St.H.) 27. And Mrs: Baines said: 'My life is over." It was, though she was scarcely fifty. She felt old, old and beaten. She had fought and been vanquished. The everlasting pur-pose had been too much for her. Virtue had gone out of herthe virtue to hold up her head and look the Square in the face. She, the wife of John Baines! She, a Syme of Axe! Old houses, in the course of their history, see sad sights, and never forget them! And ever since, in the solemn phys-iognomy of the triple house of John Baines at the corner of St. Luke's 1

Square and King Street, have remained the traces of the sight it saw on the morning of the afternoon when Mr. and Mrs. Povey returned from their honeymoon-the sight of Mrs. Baines, encumbered with trunks and par-cels, leaving the scene of her struggles and her defeat, whither she had once come as slim as a wand, to return stout and heavy, and heavyhearted, to her childhood; con-tent to live with her grandiose sister until such time as she should be ready for burial! The grimy and impassive old house perhaps heard her heart saying: "Only yesterday 1

they were little girls, ever so tiny, and now" The driving off of a waggonette can be a dreadful thing. (A. B.) His eyes went on to Hester. A pretty child. No, not pretty, beautiful really. Beautiful in a rather strange and uncomfortable way. He'd like to know who her parents had been. Something lawless and wild about her. Yes, one could almost use the word desperate in connection with her What had she had to be desperate about? She'd run away in a silly way to go on the stage and had had a silly affair with an undesirable man; then she had seen reason, came home with Mrs. Argybe and settled down again. (Ch.) Many of the hearts that throbbed so gaily then have ceased to beat; many of the looks that shone so brightly then, have ceased to glow; the hands we grasped have grown cold; the eyes we sought have hid their lustre in the grave; and yet the old house, the room, the merry voices and smiling faces, the jest, the laugh, the most minute and trivial circumstances connected with those happy meetings, crowd upon our mind at each recurrence of the season, as if the last assemblage had been but yesterday! (D.) Certainly he'd written to her a few times from Japan, sent her the usual souvenirs. He'd written to tell her he was coming home on leave. A casual letter after months of silence. He'd committed himself to nothing. Made the usual vague promises about seeing her some time. Maybe they'd do a few shows together. But nothing def-inite. A cove couldn't be too careful. He'd known other fel-lows who'd built up for themselves romances on paper, compounded more of loneliness and distance and long ab-sence than fact. The combination of all these was dan-gerous. When you added to them the unreality and boredom of life in the fieldand in Japan, once the novelty had worn off!where familiarity brought you only a deepening sense of impermanence, you were lucky if you weren't on the skids the moment you hit the shore. He'd seen a lot of coves who'd worked up a great romance in the months of absence from Australia. Loneliness and isolation worked like a ferment, dramatizing the commonplace things of home that, bored you to death before you'd been back a week: glamorising the girl next door whose face gleamed like a beacon, promising a peaceful harbour for your rest-lessness, solution to your bewilderment. He'd seen a lot of home-comings where coves had been swept off half138

troppo, in a whirlwind of confetti and wedding breakfast, and honeymoon, and only come up for air when it was too late. (B.C.) She bursts into tears, declaring herself the wret-chedest, the most deceived, the worst-used of women. Then she says that if she had the courage to kill herself, she would do it. Then she calls him vile impostor. Then she asks him, why, in the disappointment of his base specula-tion, he does not take her life with his own hand, under the present favourable circumstances. Then she cries again. Then she is enraged again, and makes some mention of swindlers. Finally, she sits down crying on a block of stone. (D.) A public furore fanned by the newspapers... Their editorials: "Beautiful girl of seventeen shoots lover, twenty-one. Fires two bullets into body of man she charges with refusing to keep faith. About to become a mother. Youth likely to die.' Girl admits crime. Pleads to be left alone in misery. Parents of both in despair." (Dr.) As when two doves, or two woodpigeons, or as when Strephon and Phyllis (for that comes nearest to the mark) are retired into some pleasant solitary grove, to enjoy the delightful conversation of Love, that bashful boy, who cannot speak in public, and is never a good companion to more than two at a time, here, while every object is serene, should hoarse thunder burst suddenly through the shat-tered clouds, and rumbling roll along the sky, the frightened maid starts from the mossy bank or verdant turf, the pale livery of death succeeds the red regimentals in which Love had before dressed her cheeks, fear shakes her whole frame, and her lover scarcely supports her trembling tottering limbs. Or as when two gentlemen, strangers to the wond-rous wit of the place, are cracking a bottle together at some inn or tavern at Salisbury, if the great Dowdy, who acts the part of a madman as well as some of his setters-on do that of a fool, should rattle his chains, and dreadfully hum forth the grumbling catch along the gallery; the frightened strangers stand aghast; scared at the horrid sound, they seek some place of shelter from the approaching danger; and if the well-barred windows did admit their exit, would venture their necks to escape the threatening fury now coming upon them. So trembled poor Sophia, so turned she pale at the noise 139

of her father, who, in a voice most dreadful to hear, came on swearing, cursing and vowing the destruction of Jones (F.) 34. "Is there much drinking in Grover's Corners?" "Well, ma'am, I wouldn't know what you'd call much. Satiddy nights the farmhands meet down in Ellery Gre-enough's stables and holler some. We've got one or two town drunks, but they're always having remorses every time an evangelist comes to town. No, ma'am, I'd say likker ain't a regular thing in the home here, except in the medi-cine chest. Right good for snake bite, y' knowalways was." (Th.W.) To describe the confusion that ensued would be im-possible. To tell how Mr. Pickwick, in the first transports of his emotion, called Mr. Winkle "Wretch!"; how Mr. Tup-man lay prostrate on the ground; and how Mr. Winkle knelt horror-stricken beside him; how Mr. Tupman called distractedly upon some feminine Christian name, and then opened first one eye, and then the other, and then fell back and shut them both; all this would be different... to describe in detail. (D.) Bulging in all directions under full field equipment, they found the narrow steel stairs difficult to navigate; and other three nervous flights of them each man was winded. And as they emerged into the now hot, midmorn-ing sunshine and fresh sea air on deck, Captain Bugger Stein their commander, standing by the hatch in musette bag, map case, glasses, carbine, pistol and canteens, stared into each of their helmet-shadowed, intense faces and felt tears rising up in him, tears which of course as an officer and commander he must hold back and never show above a stiff upper lip. His sense of responsibility was monumen-tal, a near holy thing. He treasured it. Not only that, he was very pleased with himself that he felt it. If the old man could only see him now! (J.) .. .the Landlord had just come in rubbing his hands hard together... I thought it would be nice to exchange the pleasures of meditation for those of communion with my fellow-creatures, and addressed him. After a brisk left-right-left of platitude ("Good evening""Lovely drop of weather, what?""Marvellous, isn't it?"), I at once went to rehearse the nice-room-this gambit, the it-must-be-a-tie-running-a-pub gambit, the hut-I-suppose-it's-an-interest140

ing-job gambit, the tax-on-beer gambit, and, finally, si-lence. The landlord offered the what-do-you-do gambit, the I-drew-upthe-plan-of-this-place-myself gambit, the of-course-television'sruining-this-business gambit, the still-I-always-say-withcustomers-you-can't-have-quantity-and -quality gambit, the how-do-you-like-these-titchy-bottles-I-only-got-them-just-forsilly gambit, and, finally, silence. His smiles, however, grew more and more intimate as the talk petered out. (K. A.) 38. The butler replied loftily: "Mr. Gowan is h'out... Mr. Gowan took the h'eight forty-five train from Dumf-ries...". The Inspector opened his notebook. "Your name is Halcock, is it not?" he began. The butler corrected him. "H'alcock," he said, reprovingly. "H, a, double-1?" suggested the Inspector. "There is no h'aitch in the name, young man. H'ay is the first letter, and there is h'only one h'ell." "I beg your pardon," said the Inspector. "Granted," said Mr. Alcock. "Weel, noo, Mr. Alcock, just as a pure formality, ye understand, whit time did Mr. Gowan leave Kirkcudbright on Monday nicht?" "It would be shortly after h'eight." "Whae drove him?" "Hammond, the chauffeur." "Ammond?" said the Inspector. "Hammond," said the butler with dignity. "H'albert Hammond is his namewith a h'aitch." "I beg your pardon," said the Inspector. "Granted," said Mr. Alcock. (D. S.) 39. Right now he had another problem. Another obliga-tion imposed by his reputation was that he must never seem to be scared. Thus he found himself in a position where he was forced to clump ahead through this damned undergrowth with an impassive face for the benefit of the others, while at the same time his imagination was cram-ming every footfall with all sorts of horrible results. Having an important reputation was sometimes harder than people thought. Terrible things. Snakes, for instance. They had been told there weren't any poisonous snakes on Guadalcanal. But Queen had 141

acquired a more than healthy respect for rattlesnakes during his two years out in Northwest Texas. His snakefear if anything was more unhealthy than healthy, carrying with it an almost uncontrollable tendency to freeze into a panic-stricken target. And in the jungle his imagination kept presenting him over and over with a picture of his own shod leggin'd foot falling heavily on a coiled mass of muscular life which would erupt into a writhing, clattering, jawpopping viciousness squirming under his boot, capable of striking completely through the canvas leggin or through the shoe leather itself for that matter. (J.) 40. There would have been no silly row that night at all if it hadn't been for Farren. That disgusting scene before dinner! That was what had driven him, Campbell, to the McClellan Arms. His hand hesitated on the wheel. Why not go back straight away and have the thing out with Farren? After all, what did it matter? He stopped the car and lit a cigarette, smoking fast and savagely. If the whole place was against him, he hated the place anyhow. There was

only one decent person in it, and she was tied up to that brute Farren. The worst of it was, she was devoted to Farren. She didn't care twopence for anybody else, if Farren would only see it. And he, Campbell, knew it as well as anybody. He wanted nothing wrong. He only wanted, when he was tired and fretted, and sick of his own lonely, un-comfortable shack of a place, to go and sit among the cool greens and blues of Gilda Farren's sitting-room and be soothed by her slim beauty and comforting voice. And Farren, with no more sense of imagination than a bull, must come blundering in, breaking the spell, putting his own foul interpretation on the thing, tramping the lilies in Campbell's garden of refuge. No wonder Farren's landscapes looked as if they were painted with an axe. The man had no delicacy. His reds and blues hurt your eyes, and he saw life in reds and blues. If Farren were to die, now if one could take his bullneck in one's hands and squeeze it till his great staring blue eyes popped out likehe laughed like bull's eyesthat was a damned funny joke. He'd like to tell Farren that and see how he took it.

Farren was a devil, a beast, a bully, with his artistic temperament, which was nothing but inartistic temper. There was no peace with Farren about. There was no peace anywhere. (D. S.)

And there, too, is the everfaithful Barbara's mother ... there she is, Heaven bless her, crying her eyes out, and sobbing as never woman sobbed before; and there is little Barbara, poor little Barbara, so much thinner and so much paler, and yet so very prettytrembling like a leaf, and supporting herself against the wall; and there is Mrs. Garland, neater and nicer than ever, fainting away stone dead with nobody to helo her; and there is Mr. Abel violently blowing his nose, and wanting to embrace everybody; and there is the single gentleman hovering round them all; and there is that good, dear, thoughtful little Jacob, sitting all alone by himself on the bottom stair... (D.) Here she burst into uncontrollable grief, and the remainder of her words were inarticulate. Hindley lavished on her a torrent of scornful abuse, and bade her get to her room immediately, or she shouldn't cry for nothing! I obliged her to obey; and I shall never forget what a scene she acted when we reached her chamber: it terrified me ... Old Mrs. Linton paid us several

vis-its, to be sure, and set things to rights, and scolded and ordered us all; and when Catherine was convalescent, she insisted on conveying her to Thrushcross Grange: for which deliverance we were very grateful. But the poor dame had reason to repent of her kindness: she and her husband both took the fever, and died within a few days of each other. Our young lady returned to us, saucier and more passionate, and haughtier than ever. Heathcliff had never been heard of since the evening of the thunder-storm; and one day I had the misfortune, when she had provoked me ex-ceedingly, to lay the blame of his disappearance on her: where 1

indeed it belonged, as she well knew. From that period, for several months, she ceased to hold any communication with me, save in the relation of a mere servant. Joseph fell under a ban also: he would speak his mind and lecture her all the same as if she were a little girl; and she esteemed herself a woman, and our mistress, and thought that her recent illness gave her a claim to be treated with consideration. Then the doctor had said that she would not bear crossing much; she ought to have her own way; and it was nothing less than murder in her eyes for anyone to presume to stand up and contradict her. From Mr. Earnshaw and his companions she kept aloof; 1

and tutored by Kenneth, and serious threats of a fit that often attended her rages, her brother allowed her whatever she pleased to demand, and generally avoided aggravating her fiery temper. He was rather too indulgent in humouring her caprices; not from affection, but from pride; he wished earnestly to see her bring honour to the family by an alli-ance with the Lintons, and as long as she let him alone she might trample on us like slaves, for aught he cared! Edgar Linton, as multitudes have been before and will be after him, was infatuated; and believed himself the happiest man alive on the day he led her to Cimmerton Chapel, three years subsequent to his father's death. (E. Br.) 43. 44. Then there is my Lord Boodle ... who ... perceives with A short direction Never eat toffy. astonishment, that supposing the present Government to be overthrown, To avoid dejection, Eat bread with butter. the limited choice of the Crown, in the formation of a new Ministry, By variations Once more, don't stutter. would lie between Lord Coodle and Sir Thomas. Doodle,supposing In occupations, Don't waste your money, it to be impossible for the Duke of Foodie to act with Goodie, which And prolongation Abstain from honey. may be assumed to be the case in consequence of the breach aris-ing Of relaxation, Shut doors behind you, out of that affair with Hoodie. Then, giving the Home Department and And combinations (Don't slam them, mind you). the leadership of the House of Commons to Joodle, the Exchequer to Of recreations, Drink beer, not porter. Koodle, the Colonies to Loodle, and the Foreign Office to Moodle, And disputation Don't enter the water what are you to do with Noodle? You can't offer him the Presidency of On the state of the nation Till to swim you are able. the Council; that is reserved for Poodle. You can't put him in the In adaptation Sit close to the table. Woods and Forests; that is hardly good enough for Quoodle. What To your station, Take care of a candle. follows? That the country is shipwrecked, lost and gone to pieces ... By invitations, Shut a door by the handle. because you can't provide for Noodle! On the other hand, the Right To friends and relations, Don't push with your shoulder Honourable William Buffy, M. P., contends across the table with some By evitation Until you are older. one.else that the shipwreck of the country ... is attributable to Cuffy. If Of amputation, Lose not a button. you had done with Cuffy what you ought to have done when he first By permutation Refuse cold mutton. came into Parliament, and had prevent-ed him from going over to In conversation, And deep Starve your Canaries. Duffy, you would have got him into alliance with Fuffy, you would reflection You'll avoid Believe in fairies. have had with you the weight attaching as a smart debater to Guffy, dejection. Learn well your If you are able, you would have brought to bear upon the elections the wealth of Huffy, grammar, And never stammer, Don't have a stable you would have got in for three counties Juffy, Kuffy and Luffy; and And sing most sweetly, Be With any mangers. you would have strengthened your administration by the official enterprising, Love early rising, Be rude to strangers. Moral: knowledge and the business habits of Muffy. All this, instead of Go walk of six miles, Have Behave. (E.L.) being, as you now are, dependent on the mere caprice of Puffy! (D.) ready quick smiles, With 45. The various sensations of the morning began to fall into place, and lightsome laughter, Soft flowing created one total sensation, deeply disturb-ing to Bing: he was meeting after. Drink tea, not coffee; his lost childhood. He knew whyRollingen, though in the French province of Lorraine, was the first town he had, reached which bore the visible imprint of the Germans: not of the Germans as conquerors, not of the Nazi boot, but of the Germans who had lived here and dominated the province for generations. He could see it and hear it and feel it and almost smell it; the sys-tematic cleanliness; the iron fences, wellpainted; the titles before the names on store and house signs; the beer mugs in the Goldene Lamm, name-plated for the man who al-ways drank from them, the cobblestones laid out like 145 144

mosaic on the streets; thoroughness and solidity; pettiness and limitations, clearly defined; and the curve with which a man doffed his hat calculated exactly to fit the station in life of the man being greeted. In such surroundings he had had a more or less happy childhood until the Nazis came to power. He understood these people all too well; he had to have only one look at men like Reuther, the owner of the Goldene Lamm, to know how to deal with them. Did he have this instinctive under-standing because there was, in him, the residue of them.? And if so, what was to become of him since he hated them for what they were, for what they had caused, and for what they had allowed to happen? Did he have to hate himself? He could find no answer. But he knew that the question must be answered sometime, that it would follow him and become more urgent as the armies crossed the border into Germany proper, and as they pushed deeper into it. He must decide then that, if the armies got that far, he must make it possible to go to the small city of Neustadt. There he had been born, there had been his childhood. He had been wondering without destination. And then he heard music and saw flags coming up the road. The Marseillaise, at first a few disjointed sounds, took form and swelled and became powerful. Involuntarily, Bing fell into step. The French gendarmes, flags, drums, and dignitaries, leading the Liberation Parade, were now only a few yards from Bing. The colourfully dressed young ladies of the Rollingen Societe des Jeunes Femmes, their laces and ribbons softly ruffling in the wind, eyed Bing with not a little curiosity. And there marched Yates, and McGuire, and Abramovici! Bing shouldered his rifle and snapped to attention. But Yates looked past him and failed to return his sa-lute. (St.H.) 46. She trailed down the street on one side, back on the other, glancing into the cross streets. It was a private Seeing Main Street tour. She was within ten minutes beholding not only the heart of a place called Gopher Prairie, but ten thousand towns from Albany to San Diego. Dyer's Drug Store, a corner building of regular and unreal blocks of artificial stone. Inside the store the greasy

146

marble soda-fountain with an electric lamp of red and green and curdled-yellow mosaic shade. Pawed over heaps of toothbrushes and combs and packages of shaving-soap. Shelves of soap-cartons, teething-rings, garden-seeds, and patent medicines in yellow packagesnostrums for con-sumption, for "women's diseases"notorious mixtures of opium and alcohol, in the very shop to which her husband sent patients for the filling of prescriptions. From a second-story window the sign "W. P. Kennicott, phis. & Surgeon", gilt on black sand. A small wooden motion-picture theatre called "The Rosebud Movie Palace". Lithographs announcing a film piled "Fatty In Love". Howland & Gould's Grocery. In the display window, black, overripe bananas and lettuce on which a cat was sleeping. Shelves lined with red crepe paper which was now faded and torn and concentrically spotted. Flat against the wall of the second story the signs of lodgesthe Knights of Pithias, the Maccabees, the Woodmen, the Ma-sons. Dahl & Gleson's Meat Marketa reek of blood. A jewelry shop with tinny-looking watches for women. In front of, at the curb, a huge wooden clock which would not go. A fly-buzzing saloon with a brilliant gold and enamel whisky sign across the front. Other saloons down the block. From them a stink of stale beer, the thick voices bellowing pidgin German or trolling out dirty songsvice gone feeble and unentertaining and dullthe delicacy of a mining-camp minus its vigour. In front of the saloons, farmwives sitting on the seats of wagons waiting for their husbands to become drunk .and ready to start, home. A tobacco shop called "The Smoke House", filled with young men shaking dice for cigarettes. Racks of maga-zines, and pictures of coy fat prostitutes in striped bathing-suits. A clothing store with a display of "ox-blood-shade Oxfords with bull-dog toes". Suits which looked worn and glossless while they were still new, flabbily draped on dummies like corpses with painted cheeks. The Bon Ton StoreHaydock & Simons the largest shop in town. The first-story front of clear glass, the plates I cleverly bound at the edges with brass. The second story 10* 147

of pleasant tapestry brick. One window of excellent clothes for men, interspersed with collars of floral pique which showed mauve daisies on a saffron ground. Newness and an obvious notion of neatness and service. Haydock & Simons. Haydock. She had met a Haydock at the station; Harry Haydock; an active person of thirty-five. He seemed great to her, now, and very like a saint. His shop was clean! (S.L.) 47. Need it be said? George Augustus was defeated by Isabel and the Hartlys, as he would have been defeated by any one with half an ounce of spunk and half a gram of real character. He capitulated. Without the honours of war. He apologized to Isabel. And to Ma Hartly. And to 'the Captain'. An Armistice was arranged, the terms of which were: George Augustus surrendered unconditionally, and all the honours of war went to Isabel. Isabel was not to return to dear Mamma or to Sheffield, not ever again. They were to take a cottage in rural Kent, not far from the Hartlys. George Augustus was to return to Sheffield and bring to rural Kent his precious aesthetes and as much furniture as he could cadge. He was to sell his 'practice' in Sheffield, and to start to 'practice' in rural Kent. As a concession to George Augustus, he was to be al-lowed to writefor a time. But if the Writing proved unre-munerative within a reasonable periodsuch period to be determined by Isabel and the Other High Contracting Powershe was to 'practice' with more assiduityand profit. Failing which, George Augustus would hear about it, and Isabel would apply for a maintenance order for her-self and child. Signed, sealed, and delivered over a quart bottle of East Kent Pale Ale. Poor old George Augustus! the shadows of the prison were rapidly closing round him, though he didn't know it. He had a hell of a time with dear Mamma when he 148

went home with his tail between his legs and without Isabel, and announced that they had determined to take a cottage in rural Kent andwrite. At the word 'write' dear Mamma sniffed. "And who, pray, will pay your washing-bills?" In a spirit of loving kindness and forbearance, George Augustus ignored this taunt, which was just as well, since he could think of nothing to say in reply. Well, dear Papa came to the rescue again. He gave George Augustus as much of the furniture as he dared, and another gift of 50 he hadn't got... In addition, Bulburry gave him an introduction to one of those enter-prising young publishers who are always arising in Lon-don to witch the world with noble publishings, and then, after two or three years, always disappear in the bank-ruptcy court, leaving behind a sad trail of unpaid bills and disappointed authors and wrecked reputations... So George Augustus set up in rural Kent as a writer, in a pleasant little cottage which Isabel had found for them. (A.) 48. They had all read about it for months now in the papers, this jungle. Now they were seeing it at first hand. At first they only skirted it, cautiously. From a distance they made a funny sight: groups of wet men in the rain, moving skittishly up and down along the jungle edge, bending and looking and peering here and there. It really was a wall; a wall of leaves; meaty green leaves jostling and elbowing each other, with hardly a minute opening anywhere between them. Peering at them Big Queen felt you might almost expect one of them to bite back at you if you shoved it. Spreading thesefinallyand stepping through, taking the plunge as it were, they found themselves immediately enveloped in a deep gloom. Here the rain did not fall. It was. stopped high above by that roof of green shingles. From there it dripped down slowly, leaf to leaf, or ran down the stems and branches. Despite the heaviness of the downpour which now purred loudly in their ears from just outside, here there was only a low rustle of slow occasional dripping. Everything else was supremely quiet. As their eyes adjusted, they began also to see huge vines and creepers hanging in great festooning arcs, many f them larger than young trees at home. Giant tree trunks 149

towered straight up, far above their heads to the roof their thin bladelike roots often higher than a man's head' Everywhere, everything, was wet. The ground itself was either bare dirt, slippery, slick, with wet; or else impene-trable tangles of deadfall. Here and there a few stunted straggly bushes struggled to maintain an almost lightless life. And saplings, totally branchless with only a few leaves at the top and hardly bigger around than the width of a pocketknife, strained to stretch themselves up, up, always up, to that closed roof and closed corporation a hundred feet above, where they could at least compete, before they strangled here below. Some of them that were no bigger around than the base of a whisky shotglass had already attained a height equal to twice that of a tall man. And in all of this, nothing moved. And there was no sound save the rustle of the dripping moisture. The men who had slipped through the protecting wall and come in here to see, stood rooted before the enormity their adjusting eyes disclosed. This was more than they had bargained for. Whatever else you could call this teem-ing verdure you certainly could not call it civilized. And as civilized men, it made them fearful. The toughest bar-room brawler among them was fearful. Gradually, as they continued to stand without moving, vague, faint sounds began to be heard again. High up in the foliage leaves rustled or a branch vibrated and there would be a twitter or a mad, raucous shout as some invisible bird moved. On the ground a bush would shake furtively as some minute animal moved away. And yet they saw noth-ing. By entering the jungle they had been as suddenly and completely cut off from the bivouac and the company as if they had closed a door between the rooms. The sudden-ness and completeness of the shutting off dismayed them all. But by peering out between the leaves they could see the tall brown tents still standing among the white shafts of the cocoa palms in the rain: see the distant green-clad figures still moving casually and securely about among them. They decided to go on. Big Corporal Queen moved along with them saying nothing, or at least very little. Queen was aware of a strong reluctance to be separated from the others. This jungle wasn't his meat. Back at the bivouac in the pouring rain 150

Queen had been in his element and exultant. He had snorted and grinned and rubbed the rain into himself and his chest and clothes, and laughed loudly at the more reluctant ones who looked like drowned cats. Rain was something he knew about. Back home he had worked for a while as a hand on a ranch; he had been caught out in many a rainstorm, been forced to ride all day in them. He hadn't liked it then; but when he remembered it now, he remembered it as though he had liked it, that it was manly, that it showed great endurance and strength. But this jungle was something else again. The indignant thought kept coming back to him that no American would let his woodlot get into any such condition as this. (J.) 49. My Dungeon Shook Letter to My Nephew on the One Hundredth Anniversary of the Emancipation. .. .The innocent country set you down in a ghetto in which, in fact, it intended that you should perish. Let me spell out precisely what I mean by that, for the heart of the matter is here, and the root of my dispute with my country. You were born where you were born and faced the future that you faced because you were black and for no other reason. The limits of your ambition were, thus, expected to be set forever. You were born into a society which spelled out with brutal clarity, and in as many ways as possible, that you were a worthless human being. You were not expected to aspire to excellence: you were expect-ed to make peace with mediocrity. Wherever you have turned, James, in your short time on this earth, you have been told where you could go and what you could do (and how you could do it) and where you could live and whom you could marry. I know your countrymen do not agree with me about this, and I hear them saying, "You exagge-rate". They do not know Harlem, and I do. So do you. Take no one's word for anything, including minebut trust your experience. Know whence you came. If you know whence you came, there is really no limit to where you can go. The details and symbols of your life have been deliberately constructed to make you believe what white people say about you. Please try to remember that what they try to believe, as well as what they do and cause you to endure, 151

does not testify to your inferiority but to their inhumanity and fear... Please try to be clear, dear James, through the storm which rages about your youthful head today, about the reality which lies behind the words acceptance and integration. There is no reason for you to try to become like white people and there is no basis whatever for their impertinent assumption that they must accept you. The really terrible thing, old buddy, is that you must accept them. And I mean that very seriously. You must accept them and accept them with love. For these innocent people have no other hope. They are, in effect, still trapped in a history which they do not understand, and until they understand it, they cannot be released from it. They have had to believe for many years and for innumerable reasons, that black men are inferior to white men. Many of them, indeed, know better, but, as you will discover, people find it very difficult to act on what they know. To act is to be committed, and to be committed is to be in danger. In this case, the danger, in the minds of most white meri-cans, is the loss of their identity. Try to imagine how you would feel if you woke up one morning to find the sun shining and all the stars aflame. You would be frightened because it is out of the order of nature. Any upheaval in the universe is terrifying because it so profoundly attacks one's sense of one's own reality. Well, the black man has functioned in the white man's world as a fixed star, as an immovable pillar; and as he moves out of his place, heaven and earth are shaken to their foundations. You, don't be afraid. I said that it was intended that you should perish in the ghetto, perish by never being allowed to go behind the man's definitions, by never being allowed to spell your proper name. You have, and many of us have, defeated this intention; and by a terrible law, a terrible paradox, those innocents who believed that your imprison-ment made them safe are losing their grasp of reality. But these men are your brothers. And if the word integration means anything, this is what it means: that we, with love, shall force our brothers to see themselves as they are, to cease freeing from reality and begin to change it. For this is your home, my friend, do not be driven from it; great men have done great things here, and will again, and we can make America what America must become. It will be hard, James, but you come from sturdy, peasant 152

stock, men who picked cotton and dammed rivers and built railroads, and, in the teeth of most terrifying odds, achieved an unassailable and monumental dignity. You come from a long line of great poets, some of the greatest poets since Homer. One of them said, The very time I thought I was lost My dungeon shook and my chains fell off. You know, and I know, that the country is celebrating one hundred years of freedom one hundred years too soon. We cannot be free until they are free. God bless you, James, and Godspeed. Your uncle, James. (J.B.) 50. Boys are playing basketball around a telephone pole with a backboard bolted to it. Legs, shouts. The scrape and snap of Keds on loose alley pebbles seems to catapult their voices high into the moist March air blue above the wires. Rabbit Angstrom, coming up the alley in a business suit, stops and watches, though he's twenty-six and six-three. So tall, he seems an unlikely rabbit, but the breadth of white face, the pallor of his blue irises, and a nervous flutter under his brief nose as he stabs a cigarette into his mouth partially explain the nickname, which was given 1o him when he too was a boy. He stands there thinking, the kids keep coming, they keep crowding you up. His standing there makes the real boys feel strange, lyeballs slide. They're doing this for their own pleasure, not as a demonstration for some adult walking around town in a doublebreasted cocoa suit. It seems funny to them, an adult walking up the alley at all. Where's his car? The cigarette makes it more sinister still. Is this one of those going to offer them cigarettes or money to go out in back of the ice plant with him? They've heard of such things but are not too frightened; there are six of them and one of him. The ball, rocketing off the crotch of the rim, leaps over the heads of the six and lands at the feet of the one. He catches it on the short bounce with a quickness that startles them. As they stare hushed he sights squinting through blue clouds of weed smoke, a suddenly dark sil-houette like a smoke-stack in the afternoon spring sky, 153

setting his feet with care, wiggling the ball with nervous-ness in you can tell. The way he waits before he moves. With luck he'll front of his chest, one widespread pale hand on top of the ball and become in time a crack athlete in the high school; Rabbit the other underneath, jiggling it pa-tiently to get some adjustment knows the way. You climb up through the little grades and then in air itself. The moons on his fingernails are big. Then the ball get to the top and everybody cheers; with the sweat in your seems to ride up the right lapel of his coat and comes off his eyebrows you can't see very well and the noise swirls around shoulder as his knees dip down, and it appears the ball will miss you and lifts you up, and then you're out, not forgotten at first, because though he shot from an angle the ball is not going toward just out, and it feels good and cool and free. You're out, and sort the backboard. It was not aimed there. It drops into the circle of of melt, and keep lift-ing, until you become like these kids just the rim, whipping the net with a ladylike whisper. "Hey!" he one more piece of the sky of adults that hangs over them in the shouts in pride. "Luck," one of the kids says. town, a piece that for some queer reason has clouded and "Skill," he answers, and asks, "Hey. . K. if I play?" There is no visited them. They've not forgotten him; worse, they never response, just puzzled silly looks swapped. Rabbit takes off his heard of him. Yet in his time Rabbit was famous through the coat, folds it nicely, and rests it on a clean ash can lid. Behind country; in basketball in his junior year he set a B-league him the dungarees begin to scuffle again. He goes into the scoring record that was not broken until four years later, that is, scrimmaging thick of them for the ball, flips it from two weak four years ago. white hands, has it in his own. That old stretched-leather feeling He sinks shots one-handed, two-handed, underhanded, flatmakes his whole body go taut, gives his arms wings. It feels footed, and out of the pivot, jump, and set. Flat and soft the ball like he's reaching down through years to touch this tautness. His lifts. That his touch still lives in his hands elates him. He feels arms lift of their own and the rubber ball floats toward the basket liberated from long gloom. But his body is weighty and his from the top of his head. It feels so right he blinks when the ball breath grows short. It annoys him, that he gets winded. When drops short, and for a second wonders if it went through the hoop the five kids not on his side begin to groan and act lazy, and a without riffling the net. He asks, "Hey, whose side am I on?" kid he accidentally knocks down gets up with a blurred face and In a wordless shuffle two boys are delegated to be his. They stand walks away, Rabbit quits readily. ". .," he says. "The old the other four. Though from the start Rab-bit handicaps himself by man's going." staying ten feet out from the basket, it is still unfair. Nobody To the boy on his side, the pompom, he adds, "So long, ace." bothers to keep score. The surly silence bothers him. The kids call He feels grateful to the boy, who continued to watch him with monosyllables to each other but to him they don't dare a word. As disinterested admiration after the others grew sullen, and who the game goes on he can feel them at his legs, getting hot and cheered him on with exclamations: "God. Great. Gee." mad, trying to trip him, but their tongues are still held. He doesn't Rabbit picks up his folded coat and carries it in one hand like a want this respect, he wants to tell .them there's nothing to getting letter as he runs. Up the alley. Past the deserted ice plant with old, it takes nothing. In ten minutes another boy goes to the other its rotting wooden skids on the fallen loading porch. Ash cans, side, so it's just Rabbit Ang-strom and one kid standing five. This garage doors, fences of chickenwire caging crisscrossing stalks boy, still midget but already diffident with a kind of rangy ease, is of dead flowers. The month is March. Love makes the air light. the best of the six; he wears a knitted cap with a green pompom Things start anew; Rabbit tastes through sour aftersmoke the well down over his ears and level with his eyebrows, giving his fresh change in the air, plucks the pack of cigarettes from his head a cretinous look. He's a natural. The way he moves sideways bobbling shirt packet, and without breaking stride cans it in without taking any steps, gliding on a blessing: somebody's open barrel. His upper lip nibbles back from his teeth in self-pleasure. His big suede shoes skim in thumps above the skittering litter of alley gravel. 154 155

Running. At the end of this block of the alley he turns up a street, Wilbur Street in the town of Mt. Judge, suburb of the city of Brewer, fifth largest city in Pennsylvania. Running uphill. Past a block of big homes, fortresses of cement and brick inset with doorways of stained and be-velled glass and windows of potted plants, and then half-way up another block, which holds a development built all at once in the Thirties. The frame homes climb the hill like a single staircase. The space of six feet or so that each double house rises above its neighbor contains two wan windows, wide-spaced like the eyes of an animal, and is covered with composition shingling varying in color from bruise to dung. The fronts are clapboards, weathered and white except for those gaps which individual owners have painted green and barn-red and wheat-color. There are a dozen threestory homes, and each has two doors. The seventh door is his. The wood steps up to it are worn; un-der them there is a cubbyhole of dirt where a lost toy molders. A plastic clown. He's seen it there all winter but he always thought some kid would be coming back for it. He pauses in the sunless vestibule, panting. Overhead, a daytime bulb burns dustily. Three tin mailboxes hang empty above a brown radiator. His downstairs neighbor's door across the hall is shut like an angry face. There is that smell which is always the same but that he can never identify; sometimes it seems cabbage cooking, sometimes the furnace's rusty breath, sometimes something soft decaying in the walls. He climbs the stairs to his home, the top floor. (U.)

SUPPLEMENT SAMPLES OF STYLISTIC ANALYSIS* I The forthcoming extract presents two opening paragraphs of Th. Dreiser's short story Typhoon, written at the end of the 20ies and published in 1927 in his collection The Chains. The paragraphs stand in sharp semantic contrast to each other: the first one describing the world of the Zobels, with their steady stability, conservatism and adherence to the old days, the second onethe violent, shifting, changeable world of modern tendencies, demands and attitudes. The contrast is reflected in the language, especially in the syntactical organization of the paragraphs: the un-hurried, even archaic ('took unto himself) structures, completed developed sentences are replaced by one-member sentences, rhetorical questions, detachment and other enti-ties of emphatic syntax. Into a singularly restrictThe narration begins ed and indifferent environwith partial inversion, proment Ida Zobel was born. moting the adverbial modifier of place into the most conspicuous position, thus adding relevance and im-portance to the indication of the place of action.

* Samples of stylistic analysis are given with the view of the growing complexity of analysis and its dependence on extended contexts: from a short extract via a longer passage to a complete story, in which the purport of the author is realized within the bounds of the functional style but in which the author's individuality is clearly revealed through his particular adherence to certain stylistic means and their prevailing distribution and arrangement.

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Her mother, a severe, prim German woman, died when she was only three, leaving her to the care of her father and his sister, both extremely reserved and orderly persons. Later, after Ida had reached the age of ten, William Zobel took unto himself a second wife, who resembled Zobel and his first wife in their respect for labour and order. Both were at odds with the brash gayety and loose-ness of the American world in which they found themselves. Being narrow, sober, workaday Germans, they were annoyed by the groups of restless, seeking,

There are two epithets in it, one of which is a two-step epithet, i.e., epithet and intensifier ("singular-ly restricted"). All four epithets of the second sentence appear in apposition, which fact provides them with additional emphasis, produced by independent stress and intonation. One of the epithets, as. in the preceding sentence, is also modified by an intensifier, thus becoming a two-step epithet. The sentence, also parti-ally inverted, begins with two detachments, separat-ing both adverbial modi-fiers of time by commas. Opening sentences with adverbial modifiers, Drei-ser draws the reader's at-tention to the time, place and manner of action, which suggest a touch of authenticity to the narrated events: plausible circum-stances of the action force plausibility upon the action itself, making the reader believe that the narrated events had actually taken place in real life. 'Brash'an epithet, offering the first indication of the Zobels' world-out-look. The logical attribute 'American' serves to stress the foreign (German) orig-in of the personages and

eager, and as Zobel saw it rather scandalous men and women who paraded the neighbourhood streets of an evening without a single thought apparently other than pleasure. And these young scamps and their girl friends who sped about in automobiles. The loose indifferent parents. What was to become of such a nation? Were not the daily newspapers, which he would scarcely tolerate in his home longer, full of these wretched doings? The pictures of almost naked women, that filled them all! Jazz! Petting parties! High school boys with flasks on their hips! Girls with skirts to their knees, rolled-down stockings, rolled-down neckbands, bare arms, bobbed hair, no decent, concealing underwear!

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the alien, forbidden atmosphere of their relations with the outer world. Two contrasting strings of epithets (three in each string) characterize the two opposing partiesthe Zobels and the young so-ciety. The subjectivity of Zo-bel's evaluations is stressed by two parentheses ('as Zobel saw it' and 'ap-parently'). They lessen the finality and disappro-bation of otherwise nega-tive qualifications and pre-pare the ground for the next sentence. 'As Zobel saw it' is used in the function of the author's re-mark, introducing the opin-ion of the character in the form of his represented speech, which, once intro-duced, is carried to the end of the paragraph. Pay attention to syntac-tical and lexical, changes which indicate this shift of planes of narration: two elliptical sentences are followed by several rhetor-ical questions addressed to nobody in particular and mentally answered by the questioner himself. And then again a series of highly-emphatic exclama-tory sentences, mainly one-member and even one-word. The emotional state of 159

the character is revealed not only through the syntax but also through the abundance of most subjective stylistic means epi-thets, and qualitative words ("paraded", "Sped about" and others*). Besides them there are also repetitions (The loose ... rolleddown'), hyperboles ('without, a single thought,' 'filled them all', etc.) another token of fluttered emotions. "Whata daughter of his grow up like this! Be

permitted to join in this prancing route to perdi-tion! Never!" The represented inner speech of Mr. Zobel very naturally culminates in direct orders, which open up the next paragraph and are placed in inverted commas. But we perceive here that the author's presentation of Zobel's words does not occur simultaneously with their utterance, and the pronoun 'his' used instead of 'mine' indicates the fact.

Thus we may state that the paragraph of represented inner speech is followed by represented uttered * Qualitative word an evaluating word: not participatin g in any stylistic device, it still creates a definite emphatic colouring of the utterance at the expense of the additional information carried by its connotative meaning: 'parade' here 'to walk insolently', 'sped about'-'drov e fast about', etc. Qualitative

words may be considered condensed attributive or adverbial phrases because they always express a modified concept.

speech, which enables the writer to convey the feelings and emotions of his character but as if from within, through the character himself. II This extract taken from Sherwood Anderson's short story The Egg* is on the whole highly ironical. Mocking at 'the American passion for getting up in the world' the writer hyperbolize s the situation and employs various expressive means to achieve his

aim of exposing the abnormality of behaviour of people obsessed by the idea of making a fortune. Let us proceed to the text and see how the author's intention is realized in the language of the story. 'It was in the spring of his thirty-fifth year that father married my mother, then a country school teacher, and in the following spring I came wriggling and crying into the world. Something happened to the two

people. They became ambitious. The American passion for getting up in the world took possession of them. It may have been that mother was responsible. Being a school teacher she had no doubt read books and magazines. She had, I presume, read of how Garfield, Lincoln, and other Americans rose from poverty to fame and greatness and as I lay beside her in the days of her lying-in she may have dreamed that I would

some day rule men and cities. At any rate she induced father to give up his place as a farm-hand, sell his horse and embark on an independent enterprise of his own. She was a tall silent woman with a long nose and troubled gray eyes. For herself she wanted nothing. For father and myself she was incurably ambitious. The first venture into which the two people went turned out badly. They rented ten acres of poor stony land on Griggs's Road, eight

miles from Bidwell, and launched into chicken raising. I grew into boyhood on the place

* Published in 1921 in his collection of short stories The Triumph of the Egg.

and got my first impression s of life there. From the beginning they were impression s of disaster and if, in my turn, I am a gloomy man inclined to see the darker side of life, I attribute it to the fact that what should have been for me the happy joyous days of childhood were spent on a chicken farm. One unversed in such matters can have no notion of the many and tragic things that

can happen to a chicken. It is born out of an egg. Lives for a few weeks as a tiny fluffy thing such as you will see pictured on Easter cards, then becomes hideously naked, eats quantities of corn and meal bought by the sweat of your father's brow, gets diseases called pip, cholera, and other names, stands looking with stupid eyes at the sun, becomes sick and dies. A few hens and now and

then a rooster, intended to serve God's mysterious ends, struggle through to maturity. The hens lay eggs out of which come other chickens and the dreadful cycle is thus made complete. It is all unbelievably complex. Most philosopher s must have been raised on chicken farms. One hopes for so much from a chicken and is so dreadfully disillusione d. Small chickens, just setting out on the journey of life, look so

bright and alert and they are in fact so dreadfully stupid. They are so much like people they mix one up in one's judgement s of life. If disease does not kill them, they wait until your expectations are thoroughly aroused and then walk under the wheels of a wagon to go squashed and dead back to their maker. Vermin infest their youth, and fortunes must be spent for curative powders. In later life I have seen

how a literature has been built up on the subject of fortunes to be made out of the raising of chickens. It is intended to be read by the gods who have just eaten of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. It is a hopeful literature and declares that much may be done by simple ambitious people who own a few hens. Do not be led astray by it. It was not written for you. Go hunt for gold on the frozen hills of Alaska, put your faith in the

honesty of a politician, believe if you will that the world is daily growing better and that good will triumph over evil, but do not read and believe the literature that is written concerning the hen. It was not written for you.' To stress the fact that the father of the young hero had

had quite a long period of peaceful, nonambitious life before marriage, the writer chooses the emphatic construction 'It was ... that' in which the middle part acquires additional stress and peculiar intonation. 'I came wriggling and crying into the world' is a euphemistic periphrasis for 'I was born', which creates a humorous effect due to two factors: (1) 'to come into the world' is a solemn high-flown expression which is

suitable for grand occasions like royal births but becomes out of place when applied to a baby born to a poor struggl-ing family. The incongruit y between the expression and the expressed always creates a humoristic effect. (2) The highflown periphrasti c synonym 'to come into the world' is violated by the writer, for he introduces into this metaphoric set phrase new lexical units (wriggling and crying)

used not in the transferred but in their direct meanings, thus reviving the literal sense of each component, which fact also always serves to create or enhance the comic effect of the utterance. The following three sentences of the first paragraph are of simple structure, which distinguish es them from the preceding and the following ones and changes the rhythm of the narration from

unhurried and slow into energetic, throbbing and excited. 'American' is an ironic epithet to 'passion' and 'took possession' is a trite metaphor. 'She had ... read' is anadiplosi s. This type of repetition helps to concretize the concept only mentioned at the end of the preceding sentence and now developed in the second, which is opened by the repeated unit. 'From poverty to fame and

greatness' is metonymy in which the result is mentioned while state and process are implied. Simultaneo usly we find here antithesis, expressed not by permanent (which would be 'povertyrichness') but by contextual antonyms; 'in the days of her lying-in' is a detachment , in which, due to two separating dashes, the adverbial modifier of time acquires an intonation 1

and stress of its own, thus emphasizing the fact expressed by the phrase that the period of indulgence (lying in bed) was very short and caused by the physical condition of mother; 'rule men and cities' is another periphrasis which in a humorousl y exaggerate d manner expresses the idea, which had been once already suggested at the end of the first para1

graph in a more colloquial form 'to get up in the world'; 'embark on an enterprise' is still another metaphoric periphrasis, which has a high-flown character. This abundance of periphrases which makes prose elevated and solemn, creates disparagement between the subject matter and the manner of the narration which finally serves the initial purpose of the writerto create ironic and humorous effect; 'independent' and 'of his own' are synonymous expres-sions of the same idea, which like so many other types of repetition serve to emphasize the repeated concept. Two last sentences, as in the preceding paragraph, are simple in structure and differ from the neighbouring const-ructions, which fact sets them apart. This structural, rhyth-mical and intonational isolation is carried further by their parallelismboth are identically inverted; 'incurably' is an epithet to 'ambitious': 'venture' is a qualitative word, in which the concept is not only named, but also characterized, it is a risky, doubt-ful enterprise. The additional information ('risky') is furth-er enhanced by 'launched'a verb-metaphor. The repetition of the word 'impressions' in the same structural pattern (impressions of ...) makes both phrases 'impressions of life' and 'impressions of disaster' synonymic. The atmosphere of drama is thickened by the choice of further expressive means: 'gloomy'epithet to 'man'; the metaphoric traditional periphrasis 'the darker side of life', the feeling of unreality created by the tense of the verb, to which epithets 'happy' and 'joyous' tend through the noun 'days', etc. The construction of the last sentence on the whole is complicated and highly literarywith such highflown lexical and structural elements as 'I attribute it to the fact ...', the extended object-clause parenthesis, periph-rasis, etc. This tendency of deliberate employment of strictly lit-erary vocabulary and syntax to depict most trivial facts (thus to achieve the desired comic effect produced by the incongruity of the expression and the expressed) is sustained in the main part of the extract, presented by one long paragraph: 'One unversed...', 'have no notion', 'many' syntactically homogeneous to tragic'*are apt examples to prove the above-stated idea. * where 'tragic' is an ironic epithet to 'things'

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The second sentence is an extended ironic hyperbole, the effect of which is created by a number of masterfully used means: contrasting (antithetic) epithets 'tiny' and 'fluffy' on the one hand and 'hideously' and 'stupid' on the other; a simile between reality and Easter postcards; colloquial hyperbole'quantities'; biblical periphrasis 'the sweat of your father's brow'; slight violation of the set phrase 'to call names' which enables the author to simultaneously realize two meanings: 'names' '' and 'names'''. We should also observe the gram-matical tense chosen by the writer for,the verbs of the 'chicken cycle'the Present Indefinite makes it not a one-time story of a one-time episode but suggests permanence, eternity, inevitability. '.. .intended to serve God's mysterious ends'a euphe-mistic periphrasis; 'struggle through'a metaphorhave the same function of creating the effect of irony, as the above-mentioned group and the means discussed below. The next sentence begins with the repetition of the word 'dreadful' (and its structural variant 'dreadfully') which thus becomes the main intensifier. An example of still another intensifier can be observed in the next simple sentence 'It is all unbelievably complex'. This sentence serves as a kind of resulting remark, summing up the pre-ceding narrationhence its simple,

lucid structure. But the statement, expressed by it, contradicts the hyperbolized brevity of the cycle of chicken life, presented in several preceding sentences, i. ., this is another case of in-congruity, the function of which is to create a humorous effect. The incongruity is further developed by a series of hyperboles'most philosophers', 'one hopes for so much...', '.. .disillusioned', and antithesis somewhat resembling the one which was already mentioned: 'so bright and alert' is opposed to 'so ... stupid'. The next sentence introduces a simile'they are so much like people...' which, due to its contents, results in still another hyperbole 'mix one up in one's judgement of life'. Besides this hyperbole, we find metaphors 'kill, wait, infest', euphemistic periphrasis 'go back to their ma-ker'. The last hyperbole of this cycle'fortunes must be spent' becomes also the first one of the next cycle where from concrete observations and parallels the author passes

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over to generalizations and recommendations on chicken-raising. 'Fortunes' introduces 'literature ... on the subject of fortunes' and the end of the paragraph deals with liter-ature as the central image of a series of hyperboles, euphemisms, periphrases, etc., such as: 'by the gods.. .' a euphemistic periphrasis, including a biblical allusion 'the tree of the knowledge of good and evil'. 'Hopeful', simple', 'ambitious'ironic epithets. The last long sentence consists of five richly developed hyperboles and the par-agraph ends by the repetition of the sentence 'It was not written for you', which thus, becomes the expression of the main thought, advanced by the writer in the final part of this long paragraph. The whole analysed extract is a wonderful example of the author's consistency in the realization of his creative scheme: the main function of all the numerous and various stylistic means, utilized in the passage is the sameto achieve a humorous effect. Thus those functions which are ascribed to separately taken stylistic devices become mod-ified and suppressed in the context, in accordance with the author's intention and plan, which fact proves exten-sive functional variability of stylistic means of the lan-guage when they are employed in. concrete context in speech. III Indian Camp is one of Hemingway's early short sto-ries. It was published together with thirteen others in his first collection of short stories In Our Time in 1924. It bears all the marks of Hemingway's individual style: skilful use of detail, implication, dialogue. Let us turn to the text and analyse the causes of its great expressive power.* At the lake shore there was another row boat drawn up. The two Indians stood waiting. Nick and his father got in the stern of the boat and the Indians shoved it off and one of them got in to row. * For the convenience of students all paragraphs of the text are numbered, and the analysis' of each paragraph bears the same number. 166

Uncle George sat in the stern of the camp rowboat. The young Indian shoved the camp boat off and got in to row Uncle George. The two boats started off in the dark. Nick heard the oar-locks of the other boat quite a way ahead of them in the mist. The Indians rowed with quick choppy strokes. Nick lay back with his father's arm around him. It was cold on the water. The Indian who was rowing them was work-ing very hard, but the other boat moved further ahead in the mist all the time. "Where are we going, Dad?" Nick asked. "Over to the Indian camp. There is an Indian lady very sick." "Oh," said Nick. Across the bay they found the other boat beached. Uncle George was smoking a cigar in the dark. The young Indian pulled the boat way up on the beach. Uncle George gave both the Indians cigars. They walked up from the beach through a meadow that was soaking wet with dew, following the young In-dian who carried a lantern. Then they went into the woods and followed a trail that led to the logging road that ran back into the hills. It was much lighter'on the logging road as the timber was cut away on both sides. The young In-dian stopped and blew out his lantern and they all walked on along the road. They came around a bend and a dog came out bark-ing. Ahead were the lights of the shanties where the Indian bark peelers lived. More dogs rushed out at them. The two Indians sent them back to the shanties. In the shanty nearest the road there was a light in the window. An old woman stood in the doorway holding a lamp. Inside on a wooden bunk lay a young Indian woman. She had been trying to have her baby for two days. All the old women in the camp had been helping her. The men had moved off up the road to sit in the dark and smoke out of range of the noise she made. She screamed just as Nick and the two Indians followed his father and Uncle George into the shanty. She lay in the lower bunk, very big under a quilt. Her head was turned tc one side. In the upper bunk was her husband. He had cut his foot very badly with an axe three days before. He was smoking a pipe. The room smelled very bad.

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9. Nick's father ordered some water to be put on the stove, and while it was heating he spoke to Nick. "This lady is going to have a baby, Nick," he said. "I know," said Nick. "You don't know," said his father. "Listen to me. What she is going through is called being in labor. The baby wants to be born and she wants it to be born. All her muscles are trying to get the baby born. That is what is happening when she screams." "I see," Nick said. 10. Just then the woman cried out. "Oh, Daddy, can't you give her something to make her stop screaming?" asked Nick. "No, I haven't any anaesthetic," his father said. "But her screams are not impoitant. I don't hear them because they are not important." 11. The husband in the upper bunk rolled over against the wall. The woman in the kitchen motioned to the doctor that the water was hot." Nick's father went into the kitchen and poured about half of the water out of the big kettle into a basin. Into the water left in the kettle he put several things he unwrapped from a handkerchief. "Those must boil," he said, and began to scrub his hands in the basin of hot water with a cake of soap he had brought from the camp. Nick watched his father's hands scrubbing each other with the soap. While his father washed his hands very carefully and thoroughly, he talked. 12. "You see, Nick, babies are supposed to be born head first but sometimes they're not. When they're not they make a lot of trouble for everybody. Maybe I'll have to operate on this lady. We'll know in a little while." When he was satisfied with his hands he went in and went to work. "Pull back that quilt, will you, George?" he said. "I'd rather not touch it." 13. Later when he started to operate Uncle George and three Indian men held the woman still. She bit Uncle George on the arm and Uncle George said, "Damn squaw bitch," and the young Indian who had rowed Uncle George over laughed at him. Nick held the basin for his father. It all took a long time. 168

14. His father picked the baby up and slapped it to make it breathe and handed it to the old woman. "See, it's a boy, Nick," he said. "How do you like being an interne?" Nick said, "All right." He was looking away so as not to see what his father was doing. "There. That gets it," said his father and put something into the basin. Nick didn't look at it. 15. "Now," his father said, "there's some stitches to put in. You can watch this or not, Nick, just as you like. I'm going to sew up the incision I made." Nick did not watch. His curiosity had been gone for a long time. 16. His father finished and stood up. Uncle George and the three Indian men stood up. Nick put the basin out in the kitchen. Uncle George looked at his arm. The young Indian smiled reminiscently. "I'll put some peroxide on that, George," the doctor said. He bent over the Indian woman. She was quiet now and her eyes were closed. She looked very pale. She did not know what had become of the baby or anything. "I'll be back in the morning," the doctor said, stand-ing up. "The nurse should be here from St. Ignace by noon and she'll bring everything we need." He was feeling exalted and talkative as football players are in the dressing room after a game. "That's one for the medical journal, George," he said. "Doing a Cesarian with a jack-knife and sewing it up with nine-foot, tapered gut leaders," Uncle George was standing against the wall, looking at his arm. "Oh, you're a great man, all right," he said. 20. "Ought to have a look at the proud father. They're usually the worst sufferers in these little affairs," the doctor said. "I must say he took it all pretty quietly." He pulled back the blanket from the Indian's head. His hand came away wet. He mounted on the edge of the lower bunk with the lamp in one hand and looked in. The Indian lay with his face toward the wall. His throat had been cut from ear to ear. The blood had flowed down into a pool 169

Where his body sagged the bunk. His head rested on his . left arm. The open razor lay, edge up, in the blankets. 21. "Take Nick out of the shanty, George," the doctor said. There was no need of that. Nick, standing in the door of the kitchen, had a good view of the upper bunk when his father, the lamp in one hand, tipped the Indian's head back. 22. It was just beginning to be daylight when they walked along the logging road back toward the lake. "I'm terribly sorry I brought you along, Nickie," said his father, all his post-operative exhilaration gone. "It was an awful mess to put you through." 23. "Do ladies always have such a hard time having babies?" Nick asked. "No, that was very, very exceptional." 23. "Why did he kill himself, Daddy?" "I don't know, Nick. He couldn't stand things, I guess." "Do many men kill themselves, Daddy?" "Not very many, Nick." "Do many women?" "Hardly ever." "Don't, they ever?" "Oh, yes. They do sometimes." "Daddy?" "Yes." "Where did Uncle George go?" "He'll turn up all right." "Is dying hard, Daddy?" "No, I think it's pretty easy, Nick. It all depends." 24. They were seated in the boat, Nick in the stern, his father rowing. The sun was coming up over the hills. A bass jumped, making a circle in the water. Nick trailed his hand in the water. It felt warm in the sharp chill of the morning. In the early morning on the lake sitting in the stern of the boat with his father rowing, he felt quite sure that he would never die. To make his narration laconic and terse Hemingway makes a practice of "beginning from the middle", i.e., he begins a chapter (a story, a novel) so, as if something had already been said about the described events. In our text the very first line demonstrates this method: 'another boat' 170

could appear only if 'the first' had been mentioned. Its single appearance does not exclude the necessity of having 'the first boat' mentioned but leaves this first boat in implication; thus receiving 'another boat' we take it for granted that the first one had already been spoken about. The same concerns the definite article at the beginning of the second sentence. It could appear in this position also only if the same two Indians had at least once been referred to before. This direct reference in the text is absent, but we very naturally take it into consideration, for all our previous experience has taught us this simple rule: if the subject group is supplied with the definite article, it is not the first time it is mentioned in the narration. So the first small paragraph consisting of two simple sentences proves to carry much more information than is outwardly expressed. Each sentence is loaded with addition-al, implied significance. In the second paragraph we are given two more details burdened with implication: 'the camp rowboat' shows that the first, unmentioned boat of the beginning belonged to this side of the lake. Its permanent presence on the lake shore is so familiar to the narrator that he is concerned only with 'another boat', which is 'the camp boat'. 'Uncle George' as the name of a personage can be accounted by the extreme youth of the narrator. This is the first indication of the age of the narrator. We learn the name of the narrator from the third par-agraph. Nick's age is never mentioned. We may guess it from indirect hints: 'Nick lay back with his father's arm around him' is not enough yet an indication to the age of the son, because this gesture may signify comradeship, intimacy, etc. But the very next sentence gives an explana-tion: 'It was cold on the water', and father was shielding his little boy from cold. So Nick is a little boy, hence the vocabulary his father uses in his effort to explain the facts of life to his son. Hencethe interest of the boy in the outward details of their journeywhich boat was the first and which the second, his inability to evaluate the distance between the two and a rather vague indication that the first boat was 'quite a way ahead of them'. It is necessary to note here that the impression of considerable distance is created by the word 'quite' which, without concretizing the absolutely indefinite 'a way ahead', at least suggests the

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general characteristics of the distance. (Compare it with such colloquial phrases as 'quite some time,' 'quite a grown up', 'quite a show', where 'quite' shows not the completion, but a higher degree of quality, evaluation, emotion, etc.). In the middle of the same third paragraph there are two attributes, generally rare in Hemingway's early prose. Pay attention to their character: 'quick choppy strokes' do not so much convey the author's attitude to the described phenomenon, which is the main characteristic feature of epithets, but rather manage to create a picture through a very economically used vivid detail. Not often does Hemingway resort to Past Continuous, preferring Past Indefinite even in cases when grammar textbooks rigorously demand Past Continuous. But when he employs the tense he fully utilizes its grammatical meaning of a lengthy action in process: 'The Indian who was rowing them was working very hard' emphasizes the fact of unabating efforts of the Indian and enhances the atmosphere of tenseness and hurry, hinted at by several preceding details: 'started off in the dark', 'quick strokes', etc. From the next, fourth paragraph, we gather further information about Nick's age and his relations with father. The boy addresses his father in a colloquially-intimate way 'dad'; the latter explains the aim of the journey in a manner used with chidren: without terms, specifications, etc. More than that, the very choice of the word 'lady' to designate the sick Indian woman is also indicative of the extreme youth of the boy, because it is by little children (and adults in conversation with them) that all females are called 'ladies' regardless of their age, social and pro-fessional standing, etc. The fifth paragraph consists of 4 simple sentences, each one presenting a successive step in a series of actions. Every sentence expresses one action of one person. Mark the word 'beached', finishing the first sentence; whenever Hemingway has the alternative between a prep-ositional phrase ('on the beach') and a verbal one he gives a marked preference to the latter, again employing the implication of action suggested by verbal forms: 'beached' is definitely a result of action and implies certain effort to achieve it, while the prepositional phrase merely in-dicates the place without that concealed allusion to the 172

work preceding it. The appearance of a prepositional phrase in the third sentence is explained by the fact that here the action is expressed by the predicate while in the first case the predicate was already linked with another action, and the syntactical scheme, chosen by the writer for this particular paragraph, did not allow two verbs. In the same paragraph we again see the colloquial vague, reference to the distance ('way up') of which we spoke in the commentary to paragraph three. The sixth and seventh paragraphs continue meticulous registration of every step in the outward development of events. The author's desire to present them as a single picture, to collect them in one elaborated unity is syn-tactically expressed in the choice of one verbal tense for all the predicates: even in those cases when grammar rules demand Past Perfect ('the timber was cut away') or Past Continuous ('an old woman stood', 'who carried a lantern', etc.). Such a preference for a grammatical form or category is generally characteristic of Hemingway and is always employed to sustain the effect of oneness, of unity of the described events. In addition to the effect of unity, repeated usage of the same form creates a definite rhythmic effect, thus enhancing the expressive force of the narration. When the indication at the duration of the action be-comes as important as the indication at the fact of the action itself, Hemingway, not to destroy the syntactical structure of the paragraph, resorts to participial construc-tions: 'came out barking'; 'stood holding', 'walked follow-ing', etc., where the 'ing'-form of the second element implies that the first one also expresses a process. The sixth paragraph again demonstrates Hemingway's skilful usage of detail. We remember that the boats 'start-ed off in the dark'. The only suggestion as to the possible time of night was given by the reference to the mist, which is known to appear on the lake close to dawn. In the second line of the sixth paragraph we are sure that dawn is near, because 'a meadow was soaking wet with dew'. And still further on 'the Indian blew out his lantern' shows that dawn has come, but only just, because in the next, the sev-enth paragraph, lights are still burning in the shanties: it is always darker inside than outside, especially with inadequate windows of Indian cabins. 173

This (the sixth) paragraph also reveals another characteristic feature of Hemingway's writing: abundance of prepositions and adverbs to show the exact direction of the action: 'walked up from the beach through a meadow', 'ran back into the woods', etc. All in all in this paragraph we find 14 of them, with the total number of words 80, which makes 17.5 per cent of the paragraph and is quite impressive. The seventh paragraph closes the first part of the story. We are briefly acquainted with the place and time of action and characters (not through the author's introduction, but indirectly, through hints and implication) and we know very vaguely the purpose of their journey which brought them to the doorway of an Indian shantie. The second part also begins as if it were not "the very beginning", because we left the characters outside and now "the inside" part is given without any link between the two (e. g., the writer did not tell us that they had gone in, we understand it ourselves from the very first word 'inside', from the change of the rhythm, grammatical tense, etc.). Paragraph eight masterfully presents the atmosphere of the shanty and the history of the sick woman. Again mainly short simple sentences, each carrying one concrete observation of Nick constitute the paragraph. Here it is also necessary to mark the time of definite actions and their duration, because the indication at the length and duration of the woman's sufferings and the help of other women of the camp is as important as the mere denomina-tion of both processes. Hencethe Past Perfect Continuous of 'to try to have a baby' and 'to help'. It is also important for a better explanation of the future outcome to make a point of the fact that the husband had cut his foot still before his wife began her painful delivery, so that he could not shut out her screams and was practically forced to go through his wife's tortures. Hencethe Past Perfect of "to cut" and meticulous count of days: 'he had cut his foot three days ago', 'she had been trying ... for two days'. Pay attention to the unemotional tone of the narration. There are exceptionally few attributes and adverbial mod-ifiers of manner and none of them express the author's attitude to the events described: it is 'a young woman', 'old woman', 'lower bunk', 'upper bunk'. When some evaluation of the proceedings is required the writer selects 174

the least original, the most hackneyed and, consequently, almost, devoid of emotive meaning intensifier "very" and uses it thrice 'very big', 'very badly' and 'very bad'. "Bad", very much like "very", through constant usage, practically lost its individual emotive character and became merely a very general and vague negative characteristic. This last fact of using words of extended, general semantics to be specified only in some definite context characterizes collo-quial speech and may be considered one of its norms. Compare, how often in informal speech we use "thing", "matter", "to fix", "to get", etc., not bothering to find a more exact word to convey our idea, because we are sure that the context, the situation, the tone will help to add the missing characteristics and to complete the necessary effect. Hemingway's prose is always close to colloquial norms, hence"very" and "bad" used to denote various shades of feeling and meaning. Still another feature of colloquial style favoured by Hemingway, is represented in this paragraph by a some-what loose word-order, when the sentence begins with a secondary member which is thus emphasized, and prolongs its inversion into the subject-predicate group: '...lay a young woman', '.. .was her husband'. Paragraph nine explains to us the reason for Nick's accompanying his father to the Indian camp: the doctor wants to initiate his son into the realities of life. Look, how carefully and simply he tries to explain to the boy the complexities of the process of childbirth. He explains first the facts which might have been noticed by the boy and misunderstood: the screams, the necessity of an operation. In his conversation with Nick he uses a medical term once (paragraph 10), when, as the answer to the boy's question the meaning of the word 'anaesthetic' can be understood correctly due to the context, and the second time, later, in paragraph 15 when again, the word 'incision' immediately follows 'to sew up' as its direct object, so that the meaning of the verb clarifies the meaning of the term quite suffi-ciently. On the other hand, when the doctor talks to Uncle George, his vocabulary and syntax change markedly: while his wish to be understood by the boy makes him avoid terms and "difficult" words, and adhere to lucid complete structures, in the conversation with a grown up person 175

he is not a lecturer but a mere interlocutor. Hencefree usage of terms ('peroxide'paragraph 16, 'Cesarian', 'nine-foot, tapered gut leaders'paragraph 19), colloquial ellipses (paragraphs 19, 20), emotionally coloured words (paragraphs 19, 20), etc. In the central part of the storythe operation and events immediately preceding and following itthe iden-tity of the narrator is most clearly indicated. Nick's unsophistication and ignorance make him a keen though a non-understanding observer, who is fully aware of all the proceedings without grasping their meaning or purpose. And again such words as 'he put several things' (paragraph 11) or 'he put something...' (paragraph 14) register facts without analysing them. In paragraph ten we notice one more indirect hint at the tenderness and understanding between father and son: it is the diminutive form of 'Daddy', used by Nick, and the seeming lack of logic in his father's answer 'But they are unimportant'. The boy did not ask about the meaning of the screams but he was excited when he mentioned the word: the sentence in which Nick used the word 'screams', begins with an interjection which is always a signal of accumulating emotion. And his father, receiving this sig-nal, abates the boy's natural sympathy with suffering by his explanation. Paragraph 12 is mainly continuing the explanations of Nick's father and it concludes the second step in the de-velopment of the story, which began in paragraph 8 with the world 'inside'. The place of action is complete, the char-acters are introduced, and we are taken into part three the culmination of the story very much- in the manner we were transferred from part one to part twoas if jumping over a gap and landing right in the middle of events of part three, i. e. the process of medical examination and the decision to operate are left in implication and are easily reconstructed from the very first words of paragraph 13 'when he started to operate'. It is interesting to note how the attention and interest of Nick waver and disappear: all the preceding paragraphs, paragraph 13 included, demonstrated his acute observation of and minute attention to the stages and details of this adventure. But as soon as all the characters stop their outward activities and the action drifts into the deeper 176

spheres, where mere observation is neither sufficient nor interesting, where it is absolutely necessary to put meaning into fact, Nick's mood and attitude change. Hemingway indicates this change at the very end of paragraph 13: 'It all took a long time'it is an observation of a bored and tired person and it ushers us into paragraphs 14 and 15 which are devoted to the operation itself. Hemingway persistently stresses the fact that Nick is no more interestedhe is too small to understand and appreciate the proceedings of his father. So, the same idea is repeated several times: 'He was looking away ... didn't look ... did not watch', the tense of the last predicate of paragraph 15 also is encumbered with the same idea of time 'had been gone', and at last the finishing words of the paragraph repeat the introduction: '.. .a long time'. Thus this episode is put into framing, formed by the re-peated syntagma which marks the beginning and the end of the unique operation that affected all the participants so differently. Throughout the operation (paragraphs 14, 15) we meet only father and son, where father proceeds with his task of instructor while son proves to be a yet inade-quate disciple. Though the positive results of the opera-tion will be stated much later (paragraphs 18, 19), now from the remarks of the doctor we may grasp that everything is going much to his satisfaction: compare his volubility, his colloquial formulas 'See', 'There', 'As you like', his jocular address to Nick'How do you like...', the satisfied comment on his own word 'That gets it' with the word of wide semantics*, and Nick's only remark, his laconic answer to father's direct question. Thus merely through unequal distribution of dialogue Hemingway creates additional information which concerns both the logical and the emotive sides of the narration. Paragraphs 14 and 15, when compared to the preced- ing and following ones, look like film-stills stopped for minute observation. But in paragraph 16 everything once again comes to life, everybody is again moving, doing something, and Nick revives from his stupour. It is imme-diately reflected in the syntax of the text: paragraph 16 consists of 5 sentences, each of which marks one stage of action, all of them embracing the characters' reaction * See the same commented in the analysis of paragraph 8. 12 53 177

and behaviour immediately after the tenseness is gone. Pay attention to the only epithet of the paragraph. Hemingway's epithets seldom merely indicate the author's (or character's) evaluation of the phenomenon, but as a rule offer some additional information, which is demonstrated in this particular case: 'reminiscently', reviving the epi-sode of his injury, serves as a link between Uncle George's look at his arm and the ensuing words of the doctor. In paragraph 17 once more should be noted the use of Past Perfect Tense in which its grammatical meaning of precedence before another action is not only fully employed, but also made the leading characteristic of the verb, thus participating in the formation of its contextual lexical meaning. Another point worth mentioning is one of Hemingway's favouritesword of extremely wide semantics'any-thing'. The word embraces the whole situation, its reali-zation completely depends upon the context, and this contextual concreteness of an otherwise semantically vaguely outlined word, which enables the speaker to use it in unlimited number of situations and makes it a charac-teristic lexical unit of oral speech, creates or enhances the colloquial character of Hemingway's narration. Though the narration is not conducted in the first person singular, we realize from various hints (mentioned above) that it is Nick through whose eyes we are observing events. This type of presenting a picture of life as if perceived by a t aracter creates the so-called effect of immediate presence, which in classical Latin rhetorical books was called the ad oculos effect. In paragraphs 18, ' 19 we obtain further implied characteristics of the doctor and Uncle George: though the operation is over and the nurse is expected, Nick's father still feels responsible for his patient; hence, the all-embrac-ing pronoun: 'we need'. Uncle George, on the other hand, is concerned only about his bitten arm, and the writer again mentions the fact: 'was ... standing, looking at his arm'. (Compare with paragraph 16). This time, as in sev-eral previously discussed instances the grammatical meaning of the Past Continuous Tense is used to stress the continuity of the process without any specially employed extra lexical units, which creates additional information

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and becomes one of the sources of laconism and terseness, so characteristic of Hemingway's individual style. Uncle George is so preoccupied with his own person, that he can't appreciate the medical exploit to which he was a witness and he is ironic about the natural exultation of his brother-inlaw: the conversational and condescend-ing 'all right' warns the reader against attaching an un-due importance to 'a great man', and 'great' acquires a contextual meaning if not completely opposite to its logical meaning, then, at least, much differing from it. At the beginning of paragraph 19 we find not an implied but a directly given description of the state of his character. Such an explicit evaluation of actions or feelings of characters can be found in Hemingway's fiction but rarely: in our story we have it just this once. To make it more vivid and concrete the author resorts to a simile. Simile is one of those stylistic devices which can be, though not often, observed in Hemingway's creative prose. As a rule, compared objects do not belong to greatly varying classes, most often comparison involves natural phenomena-sounds, shapes, colours of animals, trees, running water, etc. In this case compared objects stand so close to one another that the effect of a simile is sustained not merely by the fact of one object being likened to another, but.by the fact that the other is presented in a developed manner: 'football players' are mentioned in special circumstances in a definite place, they make a picture, and it is the com-pleted picture that brings forth associations, indispensable for the creation of a vivi'd simile. Paragraph 20 begins in the same light conversational elliptical manner in which the short dialogue of para-graph 19 was rendered. 'Doing a Cesarian', 'That's one for the', and 'Ought to have a look' do not differ from one another in structure or colouring. The effect of casualness, lightheartedness is carried on further by the jocular periphrasis 'these little affairs' or the sympathetically-ironical epithets 'the worst sufferers' and 'the proud father'. And when after the tenseness of the operation, the reader is soothed by the tone and ordinariness of the conversation, and is in no way prepared for any dramatic events, the blow comes, much stronger for its unexpectedness. The tragic culmination of the story is the more striking for the almost casual way of the presentation of the event: 12* 179

the narrator with his reactions and emotions is completely eliminated and a dispassionate observer and registrar takes his placesentences are neat and rounded, no ellip-sis, no complex structures, every subject is duly followed by predicate and one or two adverbial modifiers or objects, no attributes, for this is no description, but enumeration of a series of successive minute actions. All emphasis has been consciously removed both from the structure and from the semantics of the employed units strictly neutral layer of words, without any transference of meaning or special contextual effects, is employed. And it is this incongruity between the fact and its presentation (between content and meaning, by the terminology of L. Antal*) that brings forth the main impressionthe impression of incongruity of cause and result, of the absurdity of this death, of the minuteness of the demarkation line separating life from death. The event is ugly, brutal, and totally unexpected (para-graph 21). Hencethe absence of comment on the part of its participants, who have been dumbfounded into speech-lessness. So it is no chance distribution of material that the only remark offered in place of all comment is that of the doctor, which is not referred to the accident proper but to its possible aftereffects. Again, implicitly we are given another touch to add to his general positive characteristics: his first impulse is to shield the child from the unnecessary experiencechildbirth, though painful, is natural and so is not to be shunned or misunderstood, while this death is unnatural and is likely to produce the unwanted impression on the immature mind. The same tenderness and care is once more stressed by the writer in paragraph 22, in the diminutive form of the boy's name. 'Nickie' compared with 'Nick' shows that besides the nominal meaning the derived word has acquired emotive meaning too. The diminutive suffix conveys the emotive attitude of the speaker towards the object he names. We have already seen the doctor excited, but his excitement was caused by his own success, it bore, as it were, professional character, while here, in paragraph 22, * L. Antal. Content, meaning and understanding. The Hague. Mouton and Co., 1964. 180