Came from the graves of the dead, nor the gloomier grave of the living.

Slowly at length she returned to the tenantless house of her father.

Smoldered the fire' on the hearth, on the board was the supper untasted,

Empty and drear was each room, and haunted with phantoms of terror.

Sadly echoed her step on the stair and the floor of her chamber.

In the dead of the night she heard the disconsolate rain fall

Loud on the withered leaves of the sycamore-tree by the window.

Keenly the lightning flashed; and the voice of the echoing thunder

Told her that God was in heaven, and governed the world he created!

Then she remembered the tale she had heard of the justice of Heaven;

Soothed was her troubled soul, and she peacefully slumbered till morning.

(LONGFELLOW: Evangeline)

A HOME

It was just a simple, unpretentious house, set about with great big trees, encircled in meadow and fields rich with the promise of harvest. The fragrance of pink and hollyhock in the front yard was mingled with the aroma of the orchard and the garden, and resonant with the cluck of poultry and the hum of bees. Inside was quiet, cleanliness, thrift, and comfort. Outside there stood my friend - master of his land and master

of himself. There was his old father, an aged, trembling man, happy in the heart and home of his son. And as they started to their home the hands of the old man went down on the young man's shoulders, laying there the unspeakable blessing of the honored and grateful father, and ennobling it with the Knighthood of the Fifth commandment. And I saw the night come down on that home, falling gently as from the wings of an unseen dove, and the old man, while a startled bird called from the forest, and the trees shrilled with the cricket's cry, and the stars were swarming in the sky, got the family around him and, taking the old Bible from the table, called them to their knees, while he closed the record of that simple day by calling down God's blessing on that family and that home. And while I gazed. . . . I said: “O, surely, here in the hearts of the people are lodged at last the strength and responsibilities of this government, the hope and promise of this Republic."

(GRADY: The Homes of the People)

GODFREY CASS CONFESSES

"Sit down, Nancy - there," he said, pointing to a chair opposite him. "I came back as soon as I could, to hinder anybody's telling you but me. I've had a great shock but I care most about the shock it'll be to you."

"It isn't father and Priscilla?" said Nancy with quivering lips, clasping her hands tightly together on her lap.

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'No, it's nobody living," said Godfrey, unequal to the considerate skill with which he would have wished to make his revelation. "It's Dunstan - my brother

Dunstan, that we lost sight of sixteen years ago. We've found him—found his body-his skeleton."

The deep dread Godfrey's look had created in Nancy made her feel these words a relief. She sat in comparative calmness to hear what else he had to tell. He went on:

“ The Stone-pit has gone dry suddenly - from the draining, I suppose; and there he lies - has lain for sixteen years, wedged between two great stones. There's his watch and seals, and there's my goldhandled hunting-whip, with my name on: he took it away, without my knowing, the day he went hunting on Wildfire, the last time he was seen."

Godfrey paused: it was not so easy to say what came next. "Do you think he drowned himself?" said Nancy, almost wondering that her husband should be so deeply shaken by what had happened all those years ago to an unloved brother, of whom worse things had been augured.

"No, he fell in," said Godfrey, in a low but distinct voice, as if he felt some deep meaning in the fact. Presently he added: Dunstan was the man that robbed

Silas Marner."

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The blood rushed to Nancy's face and neck at this surprise and shame, for she had been bred up to regard even a distant kinship with crime as a dishonor.

"O Godfrey!" she said with compassion in her tone, for she had immediately reflected that the dishonor must be felt still more keenly by her husband. Presently he lifted his eyes to her face, and kept them fixed on her, as he said

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Everything comes to light, Nancy, sooner or later. When God Almighty wills it, our secrets are found out.

I've lived with a secret on my mind, but I'll keep it from you no longer. I wouldn't have you know it by somebody else, and not by me- I wouldn't have you find it out after I'm dead. I'll tell you now. It's been 'I will' and 'I won't' with me all sure of myself now."

my life

I'll make

Nancy's utmost dread had returned. The eyes of the husband and wife met with awe in them, as at a crisis which suspended affection.

"Nancy," said Godfrey, slowly, "when I married you, I hid something from you— something I ought to have told you. That woman Marner found dead in the Eppie's mother that wretched woman

snow

my wife; Eppie is my child."

(ELIOT: Silas Marner)

was

CHAPTER XI

FORCE (STRESS)

A third property of voice-force- may be defined as its volume. The volume of any vocal tone depends upon the amount of breath expended, and the skill with which the breath is utilized in the voicebox and the resonance cavities. The more breath used, the stronger is the tone, provided the breath is not allowed to escape wastefully through the vocal bands and resonance cavities. If the reeds on an oboe are set too far apart, or if the tubing of the bell is diminished, it requires a tremendous amount of breath to get a tone of ordinary volume. Similarly, if the vocal bands are not properly set, or if the vocalized breath is driven directly to the front of the mouth without being reinforced in the pharynx and nasal cavities, a large amount of air may be expended without getting commensurate volume of voice. Probably the most practical test for economical breath utilization is vocal quality. If this is clear and resonant, the force, or volume of tone varies directly with the amount of breath used.

Syllabic Accent

As in the case of pitch, the force of the voice is constantly changing as we speak. On individual words, force and pitch ordinarily vary together on the prin

1 Every tone has quality, pitch, force, and duration, and though