CLASS-LIBRARY READINGS

SENDING MESSAGES.

1. "The Story in a Newspaper," Wonder Book of Knowledge, 172–180. 2. "The Story in a Telephone," ibid., 217-229.

3. "The Story of the Wireless," ibid., 263-267.

4.

"Alexander Graham Bell," in Makers of Our History, 365-377.

5. "Horace Greeley, Journalist," ibid., 266-277.

6. "Samuel F. B. Morse," ibid., 185-200.

7. "The Message," Stories of Useful Inventions, 246–265.

8. "The Book," ibid., 227-245.

9. "The Wonder of the Telephone," Book of Knowledge, 2:349–352. 10. "The Wonder of a Book," ibid., 3:887-898.

II. "How Our Letters Come to Us," ibid., 11:3321-3326.

12. "How to Send a Telegram," ibid., 11:3519-3531.

13. "Men Who Gave Us Printing," ibid., 12:3567-3674.

14. "How Animals Talk to Each Other," ibid., 17:5325-5330.

15. "The Man Who First Mastered Wireless," Compton's Pictured Encyclopedia, 5:2145-2146.

16. "The World's History Delivered At Your Door," ibid., 6: 2472-2475. 17. "Travels and Adventures of a Letter," ibid., 7:2893–2898. 18. "Flashing Words Through Space," ibid., 9:3758-3767.

19. "How Mankind Learned to Write," World Book, 7:3816-3817. 20. "How Paper is Made; Its Priceless Value,” ibid., 5:2666-2673.

1

1. AN AMERICAN STAGE-COACH JOURNEY

CHARLES DICKENS

Dickens wrote the following account of a journey from Baltimore, Maryland, to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, which he made while on a lecture tour in the United States.

Read to discover what pictures you would need to make, if you were an artist trying to illustrate the funny parts of this story. What would you put in each picture?

After remaining in Baltimore for two days I resolved to set forward on my western journey without more delay. Accordingly, having reduced the luggage within the smallest possible compass and having procured the necessary credentials to banking-houses on the way, and having, moreover, looked for two evenings at the setting sun, with as well-defined an idea of the country before us as if we had been going to travel to the very center of that planet, we left Baltimore by another railway at half-past eight in the morning. We reached the town of York, some sixty miles off, by the early dinner-time of the hotel, which was the startingplace of the four-horse coach wherein we were to proceed to Harrisburg.

This conveyance, the box of which I was fortunate enough to secure, had come down to meet us at the railroad station, and was as muddy and cumbersome as usual. As more passengers were waiting for us at the inn door, the coachman observed under his breath, in the usual self-communicative voice, looking the

while at his mouldy harness as if it were to that he was addressing himself:

"I expect that we shall want the big coach."

I could not help wondering within myself what the size of this big coach might be, and how many persons it might be designed to hold, for the vehicle which was too small for our purpose was something larger than two English heavy night coaches. My speculations were speedily set at rest, however, for as soon as we had dined there came rumbling up the street, shaking its sides like a corpulent giant, a kind of barge on wheels. After much blundering and backing, it stopped at the door, rolling heavily from side to side when its other motion had ceased, as if it had taken cold; and between that and the having been required in its dropsical old age to move at any faster pace than a walk, the coach seemed as if it were distressed by shortness of wind.

"If here isn't the Harrisburg mail at last, and dreadful bright and smart to look at, too," cried an elderly gentleman, in some excitement.

They packed twelve people inside, and the luggage (including such trifles as a large rocking-horse and a good-sized diningtable) being at last made fast upon the roof, we started off in great state.

At the door of another hotel there was another passenger to be taken up.

'Any room, sir?" cries the new passenger to the coachman. "Well, there's room enough," replies the coachman, without getting down, or even looking at him.

"There's no room at all, sir," bawls a gentleman inside. Which another gentleman (also inside) confirms, by predicting that the attempt to introduce any more passengers "won't fit nohow."

The new passenger, without any expression of anxiety, looks into the coach, and then looks up at the coachman. "Now, how do you mean to fix it?" says he, after a pause, "for I must go."

The coachman employs himself in twisting the lash of the whip into a knot, and takes no notice whatever of the question, clearly signifying that it is anybody's business but his, and that the passengers would seem to be approximating to a fix of another

kind, when another inside passenger in a corner, who is nearly suffocated, cries faintly, "I'll get out."

This is no matter of relief to the driver, for he is perfectly undisturbed by anything that happens in the coach. Of all things in the world, the coach would seem to be the very last upon his mind. The exchange is made, however, and then the passenger who has given up his seat makes a third upon the box, seating himself in what he calls the middle: that is, with half his person on my legs and the other half on the driver's.

"Go ahead, cap'en," cries the colonel, who directs.

"Go lang," cries the cap'en to his company, the horses, and away we go.

After we had gone a few miles an intoxicated gentleman who climbed upon the roof among the luggage and subsequently slipped off without hurting himself, was seen in the distance, reeling back to the grogshop where we had found him. We also parted with more of our freight at different times, so that, when we came to change horses, I was again alone outside.

The coachmen always change with the horses, and are usually as dirty as the coach. The first was dressed like a very shabby English baker; the second like a Russian peasant, for he wore a loose purple robe with a fur collar, tied around his waist with a parti-colored worsted sash; gray trousers, light-blue gloves, and a cap of bearskin. By this time it had begun to rain very heavily, and there was a cold, damp mist besides, which penetrated to the skin. I was very glad to take advantage of a stoppage and get down to stretch my legs, and shake the water off my greatcoat.

When I mounted to my seat again, I observed a new parcel lying on the coach roof, which I took to be a rather large fiddle in a brown bag. In the course of a few miles, however, I discovered that it had a glazed cap at one end and a pair of muddy shoes at the other; and farther observation showed it to be a small boy in a snuff-colored coat, with his arms quite pinioned to his sides by deep forcing into his pockets. He was, I presume, a relative or friend of the coachman's. He lay a-top of the luggage with his face towards the rain; and, except when a change of position brought his shoes in contact with my hat, he appeared to be asleep. At last, on some occasion of our stopping, this creature

slowly upreared itself to the height of three feet six, and, fixing its eyes on me, observed, in piping accents, with a complacent yawn half quenched in an obliging air of friendly patronage: "Well, now, stranger, I guess you find this a'most like an English afternoon, hey?"

The scenery, which had been tame enough at first, was, for the last ten or twelve miles, beautiful. Our road wound through the pleasant valley of the Susquehanna; the river, dotted with innumerable green islands, lay upon our right; and on the left, a steep ascent, craggy with broken rock and dark with pine-trees. We crossed this river by a wooden bridge, roofed and covered in on all sides, and nearly a mile in length. It was profoundly dark; with great beams, crossing and recrossing it at every possible angle; and through the broad chinks and crevices in the floor the rapid river gleamed, far down below, like a legion of eyes. We had no lamps; and as the horses stumbled and floundered through this place toward the distant speck of dying light, the bridge seemed interminable. As we rumbled heavily on, filling the bridge with the hollow noises, I held down my head to save it from the rafters above; I really could not at first persuade myself that I was not in a painful dream; for I have often dreamed of toiling through such places, and, as often argued, even at the time, "this cannot be reality.'

CLASS ACTIVITIES

1. Describe three pictures which might be made to illustrate the humor of this story.

2. What trait of the driver made him so irritating to his passengers? Tell of acts of courtesy you have seen on the part of railway and street-car workers.

3. Tell the class about the hardest journey you ever made; the funniest; the easiest; the longest.

4. Read carefully the sentence in the first paragraph which contains the words procured and credentials. What must these words mean to make the sentences have good meaning? Do the same with conveyance and cumbersome in the second paragraph. Guess the meaning of other unfamiliar words by studying the way they are used in the sentences. Tell why it is a good plan to do your best to guess the meaning of words, before you look them up in the glossary.