A Christmas Story

Christmas Eve, after the children had hung up their stockings and got all ready for St. Nic, they climbed up on the papa's lap to kiss him good-night, and when they both got their arms round his neck, they said they were not going to bed till he told them a Christmas story. Then he saw that he would have to mind, for they were awfully severe with him, and always made him do exactly what they told him; it was the way they had brought him up. He tried his best to get out of it for a while; but after they had shaken him first this side, and then that side, and pulled him backward and forward till he did not know where he was, he began to think perhaps he had better begin. The first thing he said, after he opened his eyes, and made believe he had been asleep, or something, was, "Well, what did I leave off at?" and that made them just perfectly boiling, for they understood his tricks, and they knew he was trying to pretend that he had told part of the story already; and they said he had not left off anywhere because he had not commenced, and he saw it was no use. So he commenced.
"Once there was a little Pony Engine that used to play round the Fitchburg Depot on the side tracks, and sleep in among the big locomotives in the car-house--"
The little girl lifted her head from the papa's shoulder, where she had dropped it. "Is it a sad story, papa?"
"How is it going to end?" asked the boy.
"Well, it's got a moral," said the papa.
"Oh, all right, if it's got a moral," said the children; they had a good deal of fun with the morals the papa put to his stories. The boy added, "Go on," and the little girl prompted, "Car-house."
The papa said, "Now every time you stop me I shall have to begin all over again." But he saw that this was not going to spite them any, so he went on: "One of the locomotives was its mother, and she had got hurt once in a big smash-up, so that she couldn't run long trips any more. She was so weak in the chest you could hear her wheeze as far as you could see her. But she could work round the depot, and pull empty cars in and out, and shunt them off on the side tracks; and she was so anxious to be useful that all the other engines respected her, and they were very kind to the little Pony Engine on her account, though it was always getting in the way, and under their wheels, and everything. They all knew it was an orphan, for before its mother got hurt its father went through a bridge one dark night into an arm of the sea, and was never heard of again; he was supposed to have been drowned. The old mother locomotive used to say that it would never have happened if she had been there; but poor dear No. 236 was always so venturesome, and she had warned him against that very bridge time and again. Then she would whistle so dolefully, and sigh with her air-brakes enough to make anybody cry. You see they used to be a very happy family when they were all together, before the papa locomotive got drowned. He was very fond of the little Pony Engine, and told it stories at night after they got into the car-house, at the end of some of his long runs. It would get up on his cow-catcher, and lean its chimney up against his, and listen till it fell asleep. Then he would put it softly down, and be off again in the morning before it was awake. I tell you, those were happy days for poor No. 236. The little Pony Engine could just remember him; it was awfully proud of its papa."
The boy lifted his head and looked at the little girl, who suddenly hid her face in the papa's other shoulder. "Well, I declare, papa, she was putting up her lip."
"I wasn't, any such thing!" said the little girl. "And I don't care! So!" and then she sobbed.
"Now, never you mind," said the papa to the boy. "You'll be putting up your lip before I'm through. Well, and then she used to caution the little Pony Engine against getting in the way of the big locomotives, and told it to keep close round after her, and try to do all it could to learn about shifting empty cars. You see, she knew how ambitious the little Pony Engine was, and how it wasn't contented a bit just to grow up in the pony-engine business, and be tied down to the depot all its days. Once she happened to tell it that if it was good and always did what it was bid, perhaps a cow-catcher would grow on it some day, and then it could be a passenger locomotive. Mammas have to promise all sorts of things, and she was almost distracted when she said that."
"I don't think she ought to have deceived it, papa," said the boy. "But it ought to have known that if it was a Pony Engine to begin with, it never could have a cow-catcher."
"Couldn't it?" asked the little girl, gently.
"No; they're kind of mooley."
The little girl asked the papa, "What makes Pony Engines mooley?" for she did not choose to be told by her brother; he was only two years older than she was, anyway.
"Well; it's pretty hard to say. You see, when a locomotive is first hatched--"
"Oh, are they hatched, papa?" asked the boy.
"Well, we'll call it hatched," said the papa; but they knew he was just funning. "They're about the size of tea-kettles at first; and it's a chance whether they will have cow-catchers or not. If they keep their spouts, they will; and if their spouts drop off, they won't."
"What makes the spout ever drop off?"
"Oh, sometimes the pip, or the gapes--"
The children both began to shake the papa, and he was glad enough to go on sensibly. "Well, anyway, the mother locomotive certainly oughtn't to have deceived it. Still she had to say something, and perhaps the little Pony Engine was better employed watching its buffers with its head-light, to see whether its cow-catcher had begun to grow, than it would have been in listening to the stories of the old locomotives, and sometimes their swearing."
"Do they swear, papa?" asked the little girl, somewhat shocked, and yet pleased.
"Well, I never heard them, near by. But it sounds a good deal like swearing when you hear them on the up-grade on our hill in the night. Where was I?"
"Swearing," said the boy. "And please don't go back, now, papa."
"Well, I won't. It'll be as much as I can do to get through this story, without going over any of it again. Well, the thing that the little Pony Engine wanted to be, the most in this world, was the locomotive of the Pacific Express, that starts out every afternoon at three, you know. It intended to apply for the place as soon as its cow-catcher was grown, and it was always trying to attract the locomotive's attention, backing and filling on the track alongside of the train; and once it raced it a little piece, and beat it, before the Express locomotive was under way, and almost got in front of it on a switch. My, but its mother was scared! She just yelled to it with her whistle; and that night she sent it to sleep without a particle of coal or water in its tender.
"But the little Pony Engine didn't care. It had beaten the Pacific Express in a hundred yards, and what was to hinder it from beating it as long as it chose? The little Pony Engine could not get it out of its head. It was just like a boy who thinks he can whip a man."
The boy lifted his head. "Well, a boy can, papa, if he goes to do it the right way. Just stoop down before the man knows it, and catch him by the legs and tip him right over."
"Ho! I guess you see yourself!" said the little girl, scornfully.
"Well, I could!" said the boy; "and some day I'll just show you."
"Now, little cock-sparrow, now!" said the papa; and he laughed. "Well, the little Pony Engine thought he could beat the Pacific Express, anyway; and so one dark, snowy, blowy afternoon, when his mother was off pushing some empty coal cars up past the Know-Nothing crossing beyond Charlestown, he got on the track in front of the Express, and when he heard the conductor say 'All aboard,' and the starting gong struck, and the brakemen leaned out and waved to the engineer, he darted off like lightning. He had his steam up, and he just scuttled.
"Well, he was so excited for a while that he couldn't tell whether the Express was gaining on him or not; but after twenty or thirty miles, he thought he heard it pretty near. Of course the Express locomotive was drawing a heavy train of cars, and it had to make a stop or two--at Charlestown, and at Concord Junction, and at Ayer--so the Pony Engine did really gain on it a little; and when it began to be scared it gained a good deal. But the first place where it began to feel sorry, and to want its mother, was in Hoosac Tunnel. It never was in a tunnel before, and it seemed as if it would never get out. It kept thinking, What if the Pacific Express was to run over it there in the dark, and its mother off there at the Fitchburg Depot, in Boston, looking for it among the side-tracks? It gave a perfect shriek; and just then it shot out of the tunnel. There were a lot of locomotives loafing around there at North Adams, and one of them shouted out to it as it flew by, 'What's your hurry, little one?' and it just screamed back, 'Pacific Express!' and never stopped to explain. They talked in locomotive language--"
"Oh, what did it sound like?" the boy asked.
"Well, pretty queer; I'll tell you some day. It knew it had no time to fool away, and all through the long, dark night, whenever, a locomotive hailed it, it just screamed, 'Pacific Express!' and kept on. And the Express kept gaining on it. Some of the locomotives wanted to stop it, but they decided they had better not get in its way, and so it whizzed along across New York State and Ohio and Indiana, till it got to Chicago. And the Express kept gaining on it. By that time it was so hoarse it could hardly whisper, but it kept saying, 'Pacific Express! Pacific Express!' and it kept right on till it reached the Mississippi River. There it found a long train of freight cars before it on the bridge. It couldn't wait, and so it slipped down from the track to the edge of the river and jumped across, and then scrambled up the embankment to the track again."
"Papa!" said the little girl, warningly.
"Truly it did," said the papa.
"Ho! that's nothing," said the boy. "A whole train of cars did it in that Jules Verne book."
"Well," the papa went on, "after that it had a little rest, for the Express had to wait for the freight train to get off the bridge, and the Pony Engine stopped at the first station for a drink of water and a mouthful of coal, and then it flew ahead. There was a kind old locomotive at Omaha that tried to find out where it belonged, and what its mother's name was, but the Pony Engine was so bewildered it couldn't tell. And the Express kept gaining on it. On the plains it was chased by a pack of prairie wolves, but it left them far behind; and the antelopes were scared half to death. But the worst of it was when the nightmare got after it."
"The nightmare? Goodness!" said the boy.
"I've had the nightmare," said the little girl.
"Oh yes, a mere human nightmare," said the papa. "But a locomotive nightmare is a very different thing."
"Why, what's it like?" asked the boy. The little girl was almost afraid to ask.
"Well, it has only one leg, to begin with."
"Pshaw!"
"Wheel, I mean. And it has four cow-catchers, and four head-lights, and two boilers, and eight whistles, and it just goes whirling and screeching along. Of course it wobbles awfully; and as it's only got one wheel, it has to keep skipping from one track to the other."
"I should think it would run on the cross-ties," said the boy.
"Oh, very well, then!" said the papa. "If you know so much more about it than I do! Who's telling this story, anyway? Now I shall have to go back to the beginning. Once there was a little Pony En--"
They both put their hands over his mouth, and just fairly begged him to go on, and at last he did. "Well, it got away from the nightmare about morning, but not till the nightmare had bitten a large piece out of its tender, and then it braced up for the home-stretch. It thought that if it could once beat the Express to the Sierras, it could keep the start the rest of the way, for it could get over the mountains quicker than the Express could, and it might be in San Francisco before the Express got to Sacramento. The Express kept gaining on it. But it just zipped along the upper edge of Kansas and the lower edge of Nebraska, and on through Colorado and Utah and Nevada, and when it got to the Sierras it just stooped a little, and went over them like a goat; it did, truly; just doubled up its fore wheels under it, and jumped. And the Express kept gaining on it. By this time it couldn't say 'Pacific Express' any more, and it didn't try. It just said 'Express! Express!' and then ''Press! 'Press!' and then ''Ess! 'Ess!' and pretty soon only ''Ss! 'Ss!' And the Express kept gaining on it. Before they reached San Francisco, the Express locomotive's cow-catcher was almost touching the Pony Engine's tender; it gave one howl of anguish as it felt the Express locomotive's hot breath on the place where the nightmare had bitten the piece out, and tore through the end of the San Francisco depot, and plunged into the Pacific Ocean, and was never seen again. There, now," said the papa, trying to make the children get down, "that's all. Go to bed." The little girl was crying, and so he tried to comfort her by keeping her in his lap.
The boy cleared his throat. "What is the moral, papa?" he asked, huskily.
"Children, obey your parents," said the papa.
"And what became of the mother locomotive?" pursued the boy.
"She had a brain-fever, and never quite recovered the use of her mind again."
The boy thought awhile. "Well, I don't see what it had to do with Christmas, anyway."
"Why, it was Christmas Eve when the Pony Engine started from Boston, and Christmas afternoon when it reached San Francisco."
"Ho!" said the boy. "No locomotive could get across the continent in a day and a night, let alone a little Pony Engine."
"But this Pony Engine had to. Did you never hear of the beaver that clomb the tree?"
"No! Tell--"
"Yes, some other time."
"But how could it get across so quick? Just one day!"
"Well, perhaps it was a year. Maybe it was the next Christmas after that when it got to San Francisco."
The papa set the little girl down, and started to run out of the room, and both of the children ran after him, to pound him.
When they were in bed the boy called down-stairs to the papa, "Well, anyway, I didn't put up my lip."

Discovery of America

THE DISCOVERY OF AMERICA

Next morning, being Friday the third day of August, in the year 1492, Columbus set sail, a little before sunrise, in presence of a vast crowd of spectators, who sent up their supplications to Heaven for the prosperous issue of the voyage, which they wished rather than expected. Columbus steered directly for the Canary Islands, and arrived there without any occurrence that would have deserved notice on any other occasion. But, in a voyage of such expectation and importance, every circumstance was the object of attention.

As they proceeded, the indications of approaching land seemed to be more certain, and excited hope in proportion. The birds began to appear in flocks, making towards the south-west. Columbus, in imitation of the Portuguese navigators, who had been guided in several of their discoveries by the motion of birds, altered his course from due west towards that quarter whither they pointed their flight. But, after holding on for several days in this new direction, without any better success than formerly, having seen no object during thirty days but the sea and the sky, the hopes of his companions subsided faster than they had risen; their fears revived with additional force; impatience, rage, and despair appeared in every countenance. All sense of subordination was lost. The officers, who had hitherto concurred with Columbus in opinion, and supported his authority, now took part with the private men; they assembled tumultuously on the deck, expostulated with their commander, mingled threats with their expostulations, and required him instantly to tack about and return to Europe. Columbus perceived that it would be of no avail to have recourse to any of his former arts, which, having been tried so often, had lost their effect; and that it was impossible to rekindle any zeal for the success of the expedition among men in whose breasts fear had extinguished every generous sentiment. He saw that it was no less vain to think of employing either gentle or severe measures to quell a mutiny so general and so violent. It was necessary, on all these accounts, to soothe passions which he could no longer command, and to give way to a torrent too impetuous to be checked. He promised solemnly to his men that he would comply with their request, provided they would accompany him and obey his command for three days longer, and if, during that time, land were not discovered, he would then abandon the enterprise, and direct his course towards Spain.

Enraged as the sailors were, and impatient to turn their faces again towards their native country, this proposition did not appear to them unreasonable; nor did Columbus hazard much in confining himself to a term so short. The presages of discovering land were now so numerous and promising that he deemed them infallible. For some days the sounding-line reached the bottom, and the soil which it brought up indicated land to be at no great distance. The flocks of birds increased, and were composed not only of sea-fowl, but of such land-birds as could not be supposed to fly far from the shore. The crew of the Pinta observed a cane floating, which seemed to have been newly cut, and likewise a piece of timber artificially carved. The sailors aboard the Nigna took up the branch of a tree with red berries perfectly fresh. The clouds around the setting sun assumed a new appearance; the air was more mild and warm, and during night the wind became unequal and variable. From all these symptoms, Columbus was so confident of being near land, that on the evening of the eleventh of October, after public prayers for success, he ordered the sails to be furled, and the ships to lie to, keeping strict watch lest they should be driven ashore in the night. During this interval of suspense and expectation, no man shut his eyes, all kept upon deck, gazing towards that quarter where they expected to discover the land, which had so long been the object of their wishes.

About two hours before midnight, Columbus, standing on the forecastle, observed a light in the distance, and privately pointed it out to Pedro Guttierez, a page of the Queen's wardrobe. Guttierez perceived it, and calling to Salcedo, comptroller of the fleet, all three saw it in motion, as if it were carried from place to place. A little after midnight, the joyful sound of "Land! Land!" was heard from the Pinta, which kept always ahead of the other ships. But, having been so often deceived by fallacious appearances, every man was now become slow of belief, and waited in all the anguish of uncertainty and impatience for the return of day. As soon as morning dawned, all doubts and fears were dispelled. From every ship an island was seen about two leagues to the north, whose flat and verdant fields, well stored with wood, and watered with many rivulets, presented the aspect of a delightful country.

The crew of the Pinta instantly began the Te Deum, as a hymn of thanksgiving to God, and were joined by those of the other ships with tears of joy and transports of congratulation. This office of gratitude to Heaven was followed by an act of justice to their commander. They threw themselves at the feet of Columbus, with feelings of self-condemnation, mingled with reverence. They implored him to pardon their ignorance, incredulity, and insolence, which had created him so much unnecessary disquiet, and had so often obstructed the prosecution of his well-concerted plan; and passing, in the warmth of their admiration, from one extreme to the other, they now pronounced the man whom they had so lately reviled and threatened, to be a person inspired by Heaven with sagacity and fortitude more than human, in order to accomplish a design so far beyond the ideas and conceptions of all former ages.

Lagoon

Two degrees north of the Equator, and midway between the Hawaiian Islands and fair, green Tahiti, is the largest and most important of the many equatorial isolated lagoon islands which, from 10 deg. N. to 10 deg. S., are dispersed over 40 deg. of longitude. The original native name of this island has long been lost, and by that given to it by Captain Cook one hundred and twenty years ago it is now known to Pacific navigators--Christmas Island. Cook was probably the first European to visit and examine the place, though it had very likely been sighted by the Spaniards long before his time, in the days of the voyages of the yearly galleons between the Philippines and Mexico and Peru.

On the afternoon of December 24, 1777, Cook (in the Resolution and Discovery) discovered to leeward of the former ship a long, low, sandy island, which proved to be about ninety miles in circumference. It appeared to be an exceedingly barren-looking land, save on the south-west side, where grew a luxuriant grove of coco-palms. Here he brought his ships to an anchor, and partly to recuperate his crews, who were in ill health, and partly to observe an eclipse of the sun, he remained at the island some weeks. He soon discovered that the lagoon in the centre was of noble proportions, and that its waters teemed with an immense variety of fish and countless 'droves' of sharks. To-day it remains the same.

Fifty years passed ere this lonely atoll was visited by another ship, and then American and English whalers, or, as they were called in those days, 'South Seamen,' began to touch at the island, give their crews a few days' spell amid the grateful shade of the palm grove and load their boats to the gunwales with fat green turtle, turtle eggs, robber crabs, and sea-birds' eggs. From that time the place became well known to the three or four hundred of sperm whalers engaged in the fishery, and, later on, to the shark-catching vessels from the Hawaiian Islands. Then, sixteen years ago, Christmas Island was taken up by a London firm engaged in the South Sea Island trade under a lease from the Colonial Office; this firm at once sent there a number of native labourers from Manhiki, an island in the South Pacific. These, under the charge of a white man, were set to work planting coco-nuts and diving for pearl shell in the lagoon. At the present time, despite one or two severe droughts, the coco-nut plantations are thriving, and the lessees should in another few years reap their reward, and hold one of the richest possessions in the South Seas.

The island is of considerable extent, and though on the windward or eastern side its appearance is uninviting in the extreme, and the fierce oceanic currents that for ever sweep in mighty eddies around its shores render approach to it difficult and sometimes dangerous, it has yet afforded succour to many an exhausted and sea-worn shipwrecked crew who have reached it in boats. And, on the other hand, several fine ships, sailing quietly along at night time, unaware of the great ocean currents that are focussed about the terrible reefs encompassing the island, have crashed upon the jagged coral barrier and been smashed to pieces by the violence of the surf.

Scarcely discernible, from its extreme lowness, at a distance of more than eight miles from the ship's deck, its presence is made known hours before it is sighted by vast clouds of amphibious birds, most of which all day long hover about the sea in its vicinity, and return to their rookeries on the island at sunset. On one occasion, when the vessel in which I was then serving was quite twenty miles from the land, we were unable to hear ourselves speak, when, just before it became dark, the air was filled with the clamour of countless thousands of birds of aquatic habits that flew in and about our schooner's rigging. Some of these were what whalemen call 'shoal birds,' 'wide-awakes,' 'molly-hawks,' 'whale birds' and 'mutton birds.' Among them were some hundreds of frigate birds, the katafa of the Ellice Islanders, and a few magnificently plum-aged fishers, called kanapu by the natives of Equatorial Polynesia.

Given a good breeze and plenty of daylight, the whale-ships of the olden days could stand round the western horn of the island, a projecting point rendered pleasingly conspicuous by the grove of graceful coco-palms which Cook was so glad to observe so many years before, and then enter a deep bay on the north-west coast, where they obtained good anchorage in from fifteen to twenty fathoms of water of the most wonderful transparency, and within a mile of the vast stretches of white sandy beach that trend away for miles on either hand. And then the sailors, overjoyed at the delightful prospect of running about in the few and widely-apart palm groves, and inhaling the sweet, earthy smell of the thin but fertile soil, covered with its soft, thick bed of fallen leaves, would lower away the boats, and pulling with their united strength through the sweeping eddies of the dangerous passage, effect a landing on a beach of dazzling whites and situated in the inner south-west border of the wide lagoon.

On our first visit to the island, in 1872, we had some glorious fishing; and when we returned on board, under the rays of a moon that shone with strange, uncanny brilliancy, and revealed the coral bottom ten fathoms below, the scene presented from our decks was one of the greatest imaginable beauty, though the loneliness of the place and the absence of human life was somewhat depressing. We remained at the island for three days, and during our stay our crew of South Sea Islanders literally filled our decks with fish, turtle and birds' eggs. Curiously enough, in our scant library on board the little trading vessel I came across portion of a narrative of a voyage in a South Seaman, written by her surgeon, a Mr Bennett, in 1838,{*} and our captain and myself were much interested in the accurate description he gave of Christmas Island and its huge rookeries of oceanic birds.

* Narrative of a Whaling Voyage round the Globe, from 1833 to 1836. By F. D. Bennett.

This is what he says: 'Here and there among the low thicket scrubs are vast rookeries of aquatic birds, whose clamour is deafening. They nest and incubate upon the ground, and show not the slightest fear of the approach of human visitors. Among the sooty terns, whose number it was impossible to estimate, were many hundreds of tropic birds and pure snow-white petrels.' (He no doubt imagined the pure snow-white petrels to be a distinct species--they were young tropic birds.) 'These latter, who flew with a gentle, flapping motion, would actually fly up to us and scan our countenances with an almost human expression of interest and curiosity.' (Darwin, in his account of another Christmas Island in the Indian Ocean, also describes these gentle creatures as being of ethereal beauty.) 'Some, indeed, permitted themselves to be caught, and although their delicate, fragile forms quivered with fear when they came in contact with our hands, they would, when released, return to us again and again, as if seeking to solve the mystery of what strange beings were these that had invaded their retreat. In one rookery there were many varieties of these oceanic birds, and a species of booby that seems to be peculiar to Christmas Island. In size and colour they much resemble the ordinary gannet of our cold northern seas. Their plumage is of a wondrously bright snow white, with the exception of the primary and secondary feathers of the wings, and the retrices or tail feathers, which are of a glossy black. The skin of the cheeks and chin is devoid of feathers, and of a jet black colour, the beak a delicate yellow blue, the legs bright blue. The solicitude of the female birds of this species for their offspring was most interesting to witness. Their nests were of the rudest description, being merely circular heaps of sand raised in the open plain and exposed to the fury of storms. As we approached the nests the mother birds settled themselves down upon their single egg and screamed loudly, but would permit themselves to be lifted off, yet struggled violently in our hands to get back again. Although there were thousands of these nests within a radius of an acre, a brooding hen might easily have been passed unnoticed, for her white plumage corresponded so well with the hue of the coral sands that one was apt to kick against the nest were it not for the agonised, barking note of the poor mother. The male birds, however, of this species did not show any marital concern for their partners. They were usually seated near the nests, but at once took to flight upon our approach. Further on, among a thicket of scrubby vegetation, we found a rookery of many thousands of the superb red-tailed tropic bird (Phaeton phoenicurus), also engaged in incubation. Their nests were mere circular excavations in the sand, under the shade of the bushes of the thicket. Each nest contained an egg of pure white, dotted with delicate lilac spots, and in size rather larger and rounder than that of the domestic hen. The females, as well as the males, made no attempt to escape from their nests on our approach, whether they had or had not the care of eggs, and consequently several of our crew, with innate Polynesian vanity, soon caught a number, and plucking out the two long scarlet tail feathers placed them in their hat bands.

'A hundred yards away from the rookery of the tropic birds was one of a colony of the snowy tern before mentioned. These gentle, black-eyed creatures do not even pretend to construct a nest, but simply deposit a solitary egg upon the bough of a tree (like the gogo, or whale bird). They select for this purpose a tree destitute of foliage, and a branch of horizontal growth. It is strange that, notwithstanding the exposed situation of these eggs, they are very difficult to find; and it was not until long after the solicitude of the parent birds informed us that their spot of incubation was near that we could solve the mystery which attended their nursery. Each egg is the size of a pigeon's, and marked with either blood or chocolate-coloured splashes and spots of irregular shape. Considering the slenderness of the branches on which they are deposited, it is remarkable that the eggs (which appear to be at the mercy of every passing breeze) should yet retain their extraordinary position during incubation.' (Any Pacific Islander could easily have explained this seeming mystery. The shell, when the egg is laid, is covered with a strong adhesive coating. I have often seen a single egg, laid upon a slender branch, swaying about in a strong trade wind, and yet remain firmly in its position.) 'What may be the habits of the newly-hatched birds we had no opportunity of learning, as none of the latter came within our observation.

'Small reef birds (tern) were present in prodigious numbers, skimming the waters of the coast with an erratic, rapid, but yet graceful flight, like that of the stormy petrel. At night they assembled in vast numbers on an islet in the lagoon, to roost on the trees. They are about the size of an Australian snipe, and their forms are models of elegance and beauty. Their plumage is in true slate colour, the secondary wings are white, and a narrow white zone surrounds each eye; their legs and feet are a pale blue, with white webs.

'Every now and then as we, during our visit, walked along the snow-white beaches, great crowds of golden-winged plover and tiny snipe sprang skyward, and swept in graceful gyrations over the broad expanse of water, till they settled upon some sandy spit or spot of projecting reef; and, indeed, the immense concourse or frigate birds, boobies, terns, petrels and other aquatic denizens of the island filled us with boundless astonishment.

'At night time there crept out from their lairs in the loose coral shingle that lined the scrub at high-water mark, incredible numbers of huge "land lobsters"--the "robber crab" of the Pacific Islands. They all crawled to within a few feet of the placid waters of the lagoon, where they remained motionless, as if awaiting some event--possibly to prey upon the smaller species of crustaceæ and turtle eggs.'

Christmas Island, in its structure and elevation, much resembles Palmerston Island, Arrecifos or Providence Island (the secret rendezvous of Captain 'Bully' Hayes), Brown's Range, and other low-lying atolls of the North and South Pacific. The greater part of the interior of the island is, however, despite the vast number of coco-nuts planted upon it during the past ten years, still sadly deficient in cheerful vegetation.

The waters of the lagoon vary greatly in depth, but generally are shallow and much broken up by sandy spits, reefs and huge coral boulders which protrude at low water, and the surface is much subject to the action of the trade wind, which, when blowing strong, lashes them into a wild surf; and the low shores of the encircling islets, that form a continuous reef-connected chain, are rendered invisible from the opposite side by the smoky haze and spume which ascends in clouds from the breaking surf that rolls and thunders on the outer barrier reefs.

In the interior no fresh water is obtainable, although in the rainy season some of a brackish quality can be had by sinking shallow wells. This water rises and falls in the wells in unison with the tides. Here and there are very extensive swamps of sea-water, evaporrated to a strong brine; the margins of these are clothed with a fair growth of the pandanus or screw-pine palm, the fruit of which, when ripe, forms a nutritious and palatable food for the natives of the Equatorial Pacific Islands.

The island where Captain Cook set up his observatory is but a small strip of sandy soil, clothed with a few coco-palms, some screw-palms (pandanus), and a thick-matted carpet of a vine called At At by the natives. The only quadrupeds are rats, and some huge land tortoises, similar to those of the Galapagos Islands. They are most hideous-looking creatures, and, being of nocturnal habits, like the great robber crab, are apt to produce a most terrifying impression upon the beholder, if met with in the loneliness of the night. The present human occupants of Christmas Island are, however, well supplied with pigs and poultry; and though this far-away dot of Britain's empire beyond the seas is scarcely known to the world, and visited but twice a year by a trading vessel from Sydney, they are happy and contented in their home in this lonely isle of the mid-Pacific.

Stories of Leasure

Eastward, from the coast of New Guinea, there lies a large island called, on the maps, New Britain, the native name of which is Berara. It is nearly three hundred miles in length and, in parts, almost sixty in width, and excepting the north-eastern portion, now settled by German colonists, is inhabited by a race of dangerous and treacherous cannibals, who are continually at war among themselves, for there are many hundred tribes living on the coast as well as in the interior. Although there have been white people living on the north-east coast for over thirty years--for there were adventurous American and English traders living in this wild island long before the natives ever saw a German--not one of them knew then, or knows now, much of the strange black tribes who dwell in the interior of the centre and western part of the island, save that they were then, as they are in this present year, always at enmity with the coast tribes, and are, like them, more or less addicted to cannibalism.

Sixty miles from the western end of the island is the mountainous land of German New Guinea; and sometimes, when the air is clear and the south-east trade wind blows, the savages on Berara can see across the deep, wide strait the grey loom of the great range that fringes the north-eastern coast of New Guinea for many hundred miles. Once, indeed, when the writer of this true story lived in New Britain, he saw this sight for a whole week, for there, in those beautiful islands, the air is very clear at certain seasons of the year.

From Matupi, where the principal settlement in New Britain is situated, to the deep bay at Kabaira, fifty miles away, the coast is very beautiful. And, indeed, no one who looks at the lovely grassy downs that here and there show through the groves of waving palm trees stretching from the beach away up to the rising land of the interior could think that such a fair country was the home of a deadly fever; and that in the waters of the bright limpid streams that ran gently down from the forest-clad hills to meet the blue waters of the Pacific there lurked disease and death to him who drank thereof.

At the time of my story (except for the adventurous American whalemen from Nantucket and New Bedford, and the sandal-wood cutters from New South Wales, who sometimes touched there) white men were unknown to the people of New Britain. Sometimes when the sperm-whaling fleet was cruising northwards and westward to the Moluccas, a ship would sail along the coast in the daytime, but always anchored at night, for it was dreaded for the many dangerous reefs that surround it. And once the anchor was down a strict watch was kept on board, for the natives were known to be fierce and treacherous.

Between where is now the German settlement and the great native town at Kabaira Bay there is an island called Mano, which stands five miles off from the mainland. Early one morning, when the wild people of the villages among the palm-groves which lined the long winding beach came out of their thatched huts for their morning bathe they gave a great cry, for a large full-rigged ship was standing in close under the lee of Mano, and clewing up her sails before she came to an anchor.

Now the natives who lived on the mainland of New Britain were the hereditary enemies of those who dwelt on Mano Island, and it was hateful for them to see a ship anchor there, for then the Mano Islanders would get axes and muskets and hoop-iron.

So, with Baringa, the chief, at their head, they all ran to the summit of a high, grassy hill (known, by reason of a terrible deed once done there in the olden times, as the Hill of Old Men's Groans), and sat down to watch if the ship would send her boats ashore.

'Look!' said Baringa, fiercely, striking the ground with his heavy jade-headed club, 'look, I see a boat putting out from the side. Who among ye will come with me to the ship, so that I may sell my turtle shell and pearl shell to the captain for muskets and powder and bullets? Are these dogs of Mano to get such things from the ship, and then come over here at night and slay and then cook us in their ovens? Hungry am I for revenge; for 'tis now twelve moons since they stole my son from me, and not one life have I had in return for his.'

But no one answered. Of what use was it, they thought, for Baringa to think of his little son? He was but a boy after all, and had long since gone down the throats of the men of Mano. Besides, the Mano people were very strong and already had many guns.

So for an hour Baringa sat and chafed and watched; and then suddenly he and those with him sprang up, for a sound like thunder came over to them, and a cloud of white smoke curled up from the ship's side; she had fired one of her big guns. Presently Baringa and his people saw that the boat which had gone ashore was pulling back fast, and that some of the crew who were sitting in the stern were firing their muskets at the Mano people, who were pursuing the boat in six canoes. Twice again the ship fired a big gun, and then the boat was safe, for the two twenty-four pounders, loaded with grape-shot, smashed two of them to pieces when they were less than a hundred yards from the ship.

Baringa shouted with savage joy. 'Come,' he cried, 'let us hasten to the beach, and get quickly to the ship in our canoes; for now that the white men have fought with these Mano dogs, the ship will come here to us and anchor; for I, Baringa, am known to many white men.'

                    *    *    *    *    *

The name of the ship was the Boadicea. She was of about seven hundred tons, and was bound to China from Port Jackson, but for four months had remained among the islands of the New Hebrides group, where the crew had been cutting sandal-wood, which in those days was very plentiful there. Her captain, who was a very skilful navigator, instead of going through Torres Straits, had sailed between New Ireland and New Britain, so that he might learn the truth of some tales he had heard about the richness of those islands in sandal-wood and pearl shell. So he had cruised slowly along till he sighted Mano Island, and here he decided to water the ship; for from the deck was visible a fine stream of water, running from the forest-clad mountains down to the white sands of the quiet beach.

As soon as possible a boat was lowered and manned and armed; for although he could not see a native anywhere on the beach, nor any signs of human occupation elsewhere on the island, the captain was a very cautious man. A little further back from the beach was a very dense grove of coco-nut trees laden with fruit, and at these the crew of the Boadicea looked with longing eyes.

'We must water the ship first, my lads,' said Captain Williams, 'and then we'll spend the rest of the day among the coco-nut trees, and fill our boats with them.'

Just then as the bronze-faced captain was ascending to the poop from his cabin; a small barefooted boy came aft, and, touching his hat, said,--

'Av ye plaze, sor, won't ye let me go in the boat, sor?'

'Why, Maurice, my boy, there's quite enough of us going in her as it is,' said the captain, kindly, for the dirty-faced but bright-eyed Maurice Kinane was a favourite with everyone on board.

'Ah, but shure, sor,' pleaded the boy, 'av yer honour would just let me go, av it was only to pluck a blade av the foine green grass, and lave me face in the swate clane wather I'll be beholden--'

'Well, well, my lad, jump in then,' said Captain Williams, with a smile, and buckling his cutlass belt around his waist he sent the lad down the ladder before him and the boat pushed off.

                    *    *    *    *    *

Ten months before, this poor Irish lad, who was but thirteen years of age, had lost both his parents through the upsetting of a boat in Sydney Harbour. His father was a sergeant in the 77th Regiment, and had only arrived in the colony a few months previous to the accident, and the boy was left without a relative in the world. But the captain of his father's company and the other officers of the regiment were very kind to him, and the colonel said he would get him enlisted as a drummer.

And so for a time Maurice lived in the barracks under the care of Sergeant MacDougall, a crusty old warrior, who proved a hard master and made the boy's life anything but a happy one. And Maurice, though he was proud of the colonel's kind words and of serving with the regiment, fretted greatly at the harsh manner of the old sergeant.

One morning he was reported as missing. Little did those who looked for him all the next day think that the boy was far out at sea, for he had stowed away on board the Boadicea; and although Captain Williams was very angry with him when he was discovered and led aft, the lad's genial temper and bright, honest face soon won him over, as, indeed, it did everyone else on board.

For nearly an hour after the boat had landed at the mouth of the little stream the seamen were busily-engaged in filling the water casks. Not a sign of a native could be seen, and then, regardful of the longing looks that the sailors cast at the grove of coco-nuts, the captain, taking with him Maurice and four hands, set out along the beach for the purpose of gathering a few score of the young nuts to give to his men to drink.

One of the four seamen was a Kanaka named 'Tommy Sandwich.' He was a native of Sandwich or Vaté Island in the New Hebrides. In a very short time this man had ascended a lofty palm-tree, and was throwing down the coco-nuts to the others, who for some minutes were busily engaged tying them together to carry them to the boat.

'That will do, Tommy,' cried the captain, presently. 'Come down now and help the others to carry.' He did not see that Maurice, boy-like and adventurous, had managed to ascend a less lofty tree some little distance away, out of sight of his shipmates, and at that moment was already ensconced in the leafy crown, gazing with rapture at the lovely scene that lay before him.

It took the men but another ten minutes to tie up the coco-nuts into bunches of ten, and then each of them drank copiously of the sweet milk of half a dozen which Tommy had husked for them.

'Come, lads,' said Captain Williams, 'back to the boat now. By-and-by--'

A dreadful chorus of savage yells interrupted him, and he and the men seized their muskets and sprang to their feet. The sounds seemed to come from where the boat was watering; in a few seconds more four musket shots rang out.

'Run, run for your lives,' cried the captain, drawing his pistol. 'The savages are attacking the boat.' And the seamen, throwing down the coco-nuts, rushed out of the palm grove to rescue their shipmates.

They were only just in time, for the banks of the little stream were covered with naked savages, who had sprung out of the thick undergrowth upon the watering party, and ere the boat could be pushed off two of the poor sailors had been savagely slaughtered. Fortunately for the captain and his party, they were nearer to the boat, when they made their appearance, than were the natives, and, plunging into the water, and holding their muskets over their heads, they reached her in safety, and at once opened fire, whilst the rest of the crew bent to the oars.

But the danger was not yet over, for as soon as the boat was out of reach of the showers of spears sent at her from the shore, a number of canoes appeared round a bend of the mountainous coast. They had evidently been sent to cut off the white men's retreat. And then began the race for life to the ship which had been witnessed by Baringa and his people from the mainland.

Maurice, from his tree, had heard the yells of the savages and the gunshots, and was about to descend and follow the captain and his shipmates, when he heard a rush of bodies through the palm grove, and saw beneath him forty or fifty natives, all armed with clubs and spears. They were a horrible-looking lot, for they were quite naked and the lips of all were stained a deep red from the juice of the betel-nut, and their dull reddish-brown bodies were daubed over with yellow and white stripes. This party had perhaps meant to surprise the captain and his men as they were getting the coco-nuts, for, finding them gone, they at once rushed out of the grove in pursuit. Fortunately for Maurice they were too excited to think of looking about them, else his end would have come very quickly.

For nearly ten minutes the lad remained quiet, listening to the sounds of the fighting, and in fearful doubt as to his best course of action--whether to make a bold dash and try to find his way to the boat, or remain in the tree till a rescue party was sent from the ship. Suddenly the thundering report of one of the ship's guns made him peer seaward through the branches of his retreat; and there, to his delight, he caught a brief view of the boat. Again the report of another gun pealed out, and a wild screaming cry from the natives told him that the shot had done some execution.

'I must get out of this,' he thought, 'and make a bolt along the beach in the other direction, till I get into the hills. I can see better from there, and perhaps make a signal to the ship.' Maurice got quietly down from the tree, and after looking cautiously about him, was about to set off at a run, when he found himself face to face with a young native boy, who, running quickly forward, grasped him by the hands, and began to talk volubly, at the same time trying to drag him towards the beach. The boy, save for a girdle of ti leaves, was naked, and Maurice, anxious and alarmed as he was for his own safety, could not but notice that the young savage seemed terribly excited.

'Let me go, ye black naygur,' said Maurice, freeing his hands and striking him in the chest.

In an instant the native boy fell upon his knees, and held up his hands, palms outward, in a supplicating gesture.

Puzzled at this, but still dreading treachery, Maurice turned away and again sought to make his way to the hills; but again the boy caught his hands, and with gentle force, and eyes filled with tears, tried to push or lead him to the beach. At last, apparently as if in despair of making the white lad understand him by words, he made signs of deadly combat, and ended by pointing over to where the boat had been attacked. Then, touching Maurice on the chest, and then himself, he pointed to the sea, and lying on the ground worked his arms and legs as if swimming.

'Sure, perhaps he's a friend,' thought Maurice, 'an' wants me to swim off to the ship. But perhaps he's a thraitor and only manes to entice me away to be murdered. Anyway, it's not much of a choice I've got at all. So come on, blackamoor, I'm wid ye.'

Although not understanding a word that Maurice said, the native boy smiled when he saw that the white lad was willing to come with him at last. Then, hand-in-hand, they ran quietly along till they reached the beach; and here the native, motioning Maurice to keep out of view, crept on his hands and knees till he reached a rock, and then slowly raised his head above it and peered cautiously ahead.

Whatever it was he saw evidently satisfied him, for he crawled back to Maurice, and again taking his hand broke into a run, but instead of going in the direction of the river, he led the way along the beach in the opposite direction. Feeling confident now that he had found a friend, Maurice's spirits began to rise, and he went along with the boy unhesitatingly.

At last they rounded a sandy point, covered with a dense growth of coco-nut trees and pandanus palms; this point formed the southern horn of a small deep bay, in the centre of which stood an island, warded by a snow-white beach, and on the nearmost shore Maurice saw a canoe drawn up.

The island beach was quite three hundred yards away, but Maurice was a good swimmer, and although he shuddered at the thought of sharks, he plunged in the water after his dark-skinned companion and soon reached the islet, which was but a tiny spot, containing some two or three score of coco-palms, and three untenanted native huts. It was used by the natives as a fishing station, and the canoe, which was a very small one, had evidently been in use that day. Close by were the marks in the sand where a larger one had been carried down. In one of the huts smoke was arising from a native ground-oven, which showed that the fishermen had not long gone; doubtless they would return when the food was cooked, for the native boy pointed out the oven to Maurice with a look of alarm.

The two boys soon launched the canoe, and each seizing a paddle, at once struck out in the direction of the ship. The native lad sat aft, Maurice for'ard, and clumsy as was the latter with the long and narrow canoe paddle, he yet managed to keep his seat and not capsize the frail little craft.

'Hurroo!' cried foolish Maurice, turning to his companion, 'we're all right now, I'm thinkin'. There's the ship!'

There she was sure enough, and there also were four canoes, paddling along close in-shore, returning from their chase of the captain's boat. They heard Maurice's loud shout of triumph, at once altered their course, and sped swiftly towards the two boys.

                    *    *    *    *    *

Scarcely had Captain Williams and his exhausted crew gained the ship when the mate reported that a fleet of canoes was coming across from the mainland of New Britain, and orders were at once given to load the ship's eight guns with grape and canister. (In those days of Chinese and Malay pirates and dangerous natives of the South Seas, all merchants ships, particularly those engaged in the sandal-wood trade, were well armed, and almost man-of-war discipline observed.)

'We'll give them something to remember us by, Hodgson,' said Captain Williams, grimly. 'That poor lad! To think I never noticed he was not in the boat till too late! I expect he's murdered by now; but I shall take a bloody vengeance for the poor boy's death. Serve out some grog to the hands, steward; and some of you fellows stand by with some shot to dump into the canoes if we should miss them with the guns and they get alongside.'

But just as he spoke the mate called out, 'The canoes have stopped paddling, sir, all except one, which is coming right on.'

'All right, I see it. Let them come and have a look at us. As soon as it gets close enough, I'll sink it.'

For some minutes the canoe, which contained seven men, continued to advance with great swiftness; then she ceased paddling, and the steersman stood up and called out something to the ship, just as she was well covered by two of the guns on the port side. In another minute she would have been blown out of the water, when Tommy Sandwich ran aft and said,--

'I think, cap'n, that fellow he no want fight ship; I think he want talk you.'

'Perhaps so, Tommy; so we'll let him come a bit closer.'

Again the native paddles sent the canoe inward till she was well within easy hailing distance of the ship, and the same native again stood up and called out,--

'Hi, cap'n. No you shoot me. Me Baringa. Me like come 'board.'

'All right,' answered Captain Williams, 'come alongside.'

The moment the canoe ranged alongside, Baringa clambered up the side, and advanced fearlessly toward the poop. 'Where cap'n?' he asked, pushing unceremoniously aside those who stood in his way; and mounting the ladder at the break of the poop he walked up to the master of the Boadicea and held out his hand.

In a very short time, by the aid of Tommy Sandwich, whose language was allied to that of the natives of New Britain, Captain Williams learnt how matters stood. His visitor was anxious to help him, and volunteered to join the white man in an attack on the treacherous people of Mano, though he gave but little hope of their finding Maurice alive. They had, he said, stolen his own son twelve months before, and eaten him, and he wanted his revenge. Presently, as a proof of his integrity, he produced from a dirty leather cartridge pouch, that was strapped around his waist, a soiled piece of paper, and handed it to the captain. It read as follows:--

'The bearer, Baringa, is the chief of Kabaira Coast. He is a thorough old cannibal, but, as far as I know, may be trusted by white men. He supplied my ship with fresh provisions, and seems a friendly old cut-throat.
'Matthew Wallis,
'Master, ship Algerine of New Bedford.
'October 2 st, 1839.'

'Well, that's satisfactory,' said Captain Williams, turning to Tommy. 'Tell him that I am going to land and try and find Maurice, and he can help me with his people. Mr Hodgson, man and arm the boats again.'

In a moment all was bustle and excitement, in the midst of which a loud 'hurrah' came from aloft from a sailor who was on the fore-yard watching the remaining canoes of Baringa's fleet. 'Hurrah! Here's Maurice, sir, coming off in a canoe with a nigger, an' a lot of other niggers in four canoes a-chasin' him.'

Springing to the taffrail, Captain Williams saw the canoe, which had just rounded the point and was now well in view. The two boys were paddling for their lives; behind them were the four canoes filled with yelling savages.

'Into the boats, men, for God's sake!' roared the captain. Had a greater distance separated Maurice from his pursuers the master of the Boadicea would have endeavoured to have sunk the four canoes with the ship's guns; but the risk was too great to attempt it as they were. However, the gunner and carpenter were sent into the fore-top to try and pick off some of the natives by firing over Maurice's canoe.

Five minutes later the ship's three boats were pulling swiftly to the rescue, and Baringa, jumping into his own canoe, beckoned to the rest of his flotilla to follow him, and six natives urged the light craft furiously along after the boats.

On, on, came the two poor boys, straining every nerve; but every moment their pursuers gained on them; and on, on dashed the heavy, cumbersome boats. Already the nearest canoe was within fifty feet of Maurice and his black friend, the savage paddlers undaunted by the fire from the muskets of the gunner and carpenter, when Captain Williams saw a native rise up and hurl a club at the two boys. Quick as lightning the captain picked up his musket and fired, and the savage fell forward with a bullet through his chest. But quick as he was he was too late, for the club whizzed through the air and struck the native boy on his right arm.

A savage yell of triumph came from the pursuing canoes as their occupants saw the boy go down and the canoe broach-to, and then the leading canoe dashed up alongside that of Maurice and his companion.

'Pull, men, pull, for God's sake!' cried the captain, frantically, as he saw the Irish lad, paddle in hand, standing up over the body of the fallen boy, and strike wildly at his murderous pursuers.

With heaving bosoms and set teeth the seamen urged the boats along, and they and the four canoes crashed together in deadly conflict. But as they met, a huge savage stood up and, poising a spear, darted it at the prone figure of the native boy; it did not reach him, for Maurice, wounded and bleeding as he was with a spear wound through his thigh, flung himself in front of the weapon to save his friend. It struck him in the shoulder and came out a full foot at his back.

'You dog,' said Williams, raising his pistol, and the native went down with a crash.

And then ensued a scene of slaughter, as the seamen of the Boadicea got to work with their cutlasses. It did not take long to end the fight, and not one of the Mano men escaped, for now Baringa's canoes had come up, and with their heavy jade clubs dashed out the brains of those of their enemies who sought to swim ashore. It was in truth a hideous sight, and even the hardy sailors shuddered when they saw the merciless manner in which wounded and dying men were massacred by their naked allies.

As quickly as possible, the two boys were lifted out of the little canoe and placed in the captain's boat, where their wounds were examined. The native boy's arm was broken, and his back badly hurt, but he was quite conscious. As for Maurice, he was in a bad state, and Captain Williams decided not to pull out the spear till the ship was reached.

Just as he had given orders to pull for the ship, Baringa's canoe returned from the slaughter of the remaining fugitives, and drew up alongside the captain's boat, and the moment the chief saw the native boy lying in the stern sheets of the boat he sprang out of the canoe and embraced him.

'It is my boy, my Lokolol--he whom I thought was dead.'

Little remains to be told. The two boys were carefully attended to as soon as they reached the ship, and to the joy of everyone the spear, when extracted from Maurice's body, was pronounced by Baringa not to be a poisoned one. As for Lokolol, the chief's son, his arm was put in splints, but during the time that was occupied in doing this his hand was clasped around that of the brave young sailor lad who had saved his life, and his big, black eyes never left Maurice's pallid face.

For three days the Boadicea remained at anchor opposite the village--she had sailed there the morning after the fight--and the chief showed his gratitude by every possible means. On the morning of the day on which the ship sailed he came on board, attended by thirty canoes, every one of which was laden deep down with pearl shell. It was passed up on deck, and stacked in a heap, and then Baringa asked for the captain and the white boy who had saved his son. Beside him stood Lokolol, his arm in a sling, and tears running down his cheeks, for he knew he would see Maurice no more.

Then Captain Williams came on deck and showed the chief the little cabin boy, lying in a hammock under the poop awning. The burly savage came over to him, and taking Maurice's hand in his, placed it tenderly upon his huge, hairy bosom in token of gratitude. Then he spoke to the captain through Tommy Sandwich.

'Tell this good captain that I, Baringa, am for ever the white man's friend. And tell him, too, that all this pearl shell here is my gift to him and the boy who helped my son to escape from captivity. Half is for the good captain; half is for the brave white boy.'

Then, after remaining on board till the ship was many miles away from the land, the chief and his son bade the wounded boy farewell and went back to the shore.

Maurice soon recovered, and when the Boadicea arrived at Hong Kong, and Captain Williams had sold the pearl shell, he said to his cabin boy,--

'Maurice, my lad, I've sold the pearl shell, and what do you think I've been paid for it? Well, just eight thousand dollars--£1600 in English money. You're quite a rich boy now, Maurice. It's not every lad that gets four thousand dollars for saving a nigger's life.'

Maurice's bright blue eyes filled with honest tears. 'Shure, sor, he was a naygur, thrue enough. But thin, yere honour, he had a foine bould heart to do what he did for Maurice Kinane.'

And, as I have said, this is a true story, and old Maurice Kinane, who is alive now, himself told it to me.

HOW TO PARSE VERBS AND VERBALS.

I. VERBS.

275. In parsing verbs, give the following points:—
(1) Class: (a) as to form,—strong or weak, giving principal parts; (b) as to use,—transitive or intransitive.
(2) Voice,—active or passive.
(3) Mood,—indicative, subjunctive, or imperative.
(4) Tense,—which of the tenses given in Sec. 234.
(5) Person and number, in determining which you must tell—
(6) What the subject is, for the form of the verb may not show the person and number.

Caution.

276. It has been intimated in Sec. 235, we must beware of the rule, "A verb agrees with its subject in person and number." Sometimes it does; usually it does not, if agrees means that the verb changes its form for the different persons and numbers. The verb be has more forms than other verbs, and may be said to agree with its subject in several of its forms. But unless the verb is present, and ends in -s, or is an old or poetic form ending in -st or -eth, it is best for the student not to state it as a general rule that "the verb agrees with its subject in person and number," but merely to tell what the subject of the verb is.

II. VERB PHRASES.

277. Verb phrases are made up of a principal verb followed by an infinitive, and should always be analyzed as phrases, and not taken as single verbs. Especially frequent are those made up of should, would, may, might, can, could, must, followed by a pure infinitive without to. Take these examples:—
1. Lee should of himself have replenished his stock.
2. The government might have been strong and prosperous.
In such sentences as 1, call should a weak verb, intransitive, therefore active; indicative, past tense; has for its subject Lee. Have replenished is a perfect active infinitive.
In 2, call might a weak verb, intransitive, active, indicative (as it means could), past tense; has the subject government. Have been is a perfect active infinitive.
For fuller parsing of the infinitive, see Sec. 278(2).

III. VERBALS.

278. (1) Participle. Tell (a) from what verb it is derived; (b) whether active or passive, imperfect, perfect, etc.; (c) to what word it belongs. If a participial adjective, give points (a) and (b), then parse it as an adjective.
(2) Infinitive. Tell (a) from what verb it is derived; (b) whether indefinite, perfect, definite, etc.
(3) Gerund. (a) From what verb derived; (b) its use (Sec. 273).

Exercise.

Parse the verbs, verbals, and verb phrases in the following sentences:—

1. Byron builds a structure that repeats certain elements in nature or humanity.
2. The birds were singing as if there were no aching hearts, no sin nor sorrow, in the world.
3. Let it rise! let it rise, till it meet the sun in his coming; let the earliest light of the morning gild it, and parting day linger and play on its summit.
4. You are gathered to your fathers, and live only to your country in her grateful remembrance.
5. Read this Declaration at the head of the army.
6.

Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled from wing to wing, Down all the line, a deafening shout, "God save our Lord the King!"

7. When he arose in the morning, he thought only of her, and wondered if she were yet awake.
8. He had lost the quiet of his thoughts, and his agitated soul reflected only broken and distorted images of things.
9.

So, lest I be inclined To render ill for ill, Henceforth in me instill, O God, a sweet good will.

10. The sun appears to beat in vain at the casements.
11. Margaret had come into the workshop with her sewing, as usual.
12.

Two things there are with memory will abide— Whatever else befall—while life flows by.

13. To the child it was not permitted to look beyond into the hazy lines that bounded his oasis of flowers.
14. With them, morning is not a new issuing of light, a new bursting forth of the sun; a new waking up of all that has life, from a sort of temporary death.
15. Whatever ground you sow or plant, see that it is in good condition.
16. However that be, it is certain that he had grown to delight in nothing else than this conversation.
17. The soul having been often born, or, as the Hindoos say, "traveling the path of existence through thousands of births," there is nothing of which she has not gained knowledge.
18. The ancients called it ecstasy or absence,—a getting-out of their bodies to think.
19. Such a boy could not whistle or dance.
20. He had rather stand charged with the imbecility of skepticism than with untruth.
21. He can behold with serenity the yawning gulf between the ambition of man and his power of performance.
22. He passed across the room to the washstand, leaving me upon the bed, where I afterward found he had replaced me on being awakened by hearing me leap frantically up and down on the floor.
23. In going for water, he seemed to be traveling over a desert plain to some far-off spring.
24. Hasheesh always brings an awakening of perception which magnifies the smallest sensation.
25. I have always talked to him as I would to a friend.
26. Over them multitudes of rosy children came leaping to throw garlands on my victorious road.
27. Oh, had we some bright little isle of our own!
28.

Better it were, thou sayest, to consent; Feast while we may, and live ere life be spent.

29. And now wend we to yonder fountain, for the hour of rest is at hand.

ADJECTIVES

Office of Adjectives.

139. Nouns are seldom used as names of objects without additional words joined to them to add to their meaning. For example, if we wish to speak of a friend's house, we cannot guide one to it by merely calling it a house. We need to add some words to tell its color, size, position, etc., if we are at a distance; and if we are near, we need some word to point out the house we speak of, so that no other will be mistaken for it. So with any object, or with persons.

As to the kind of words used, we may begin with the common adjectives telling the characteristics of an object. If a chemist discovers a new substance, he cannot describe it to others without telling its qualities: he will say it is solid, or liquid, or gaseous; heavy or light; brittle or tough; white or red; etc.

Again, in pointing out an object, adjectives are used; such as in the expressions "this man," "that house," "yonder hill," etc.

Instead of using nouns indefinitely, the number is limited by adjectives; as, "one hat," "some cities," "a hundred men."

The office of an adjective, then, is to narrow down or limit the application of a noun. It may have this office alone, or it may at the same time add to the meaning of the noun.

Substantives.

140. Nouns are not, however, the only words limited by adjectives: pronouns and other words and expressions also have adjectives joined to them. Any word or word group that performs the same office as a noun may be modified by adjectives.

To make this clear, notice the following sentences:—

Pronoun.

If he be thankful for small benefits, it shows that he weighs men's minds, and their trash.—Bacon.

Infinitives.

To err is human; to forgive, divine.—Pope.
With exception of the "and then," the "and there," and the still less significant "and so," they constitute all his connections.—Coleridge.

Definition.

141. An adjective is a word joined to a noun or other substantive word or expression, to describe it or to limit its application.

Classes of adjectives.

142. Adjectives are divided into four classes:—

(1) Descriptive adjectives, which describe by expressing qualities or attributes of a substantive.

(2) Adjectives of quantity, used to tell how many things are spoken of, or how much of a thing.

(3) Demonstrative adjectives, pointing out particular things.

(4) Pronominal adjectives, words primarily pronouns, but used adjectively sometimes in modifying nouns instead of standing for them. They include relative and interrogative words.

DESCRIPTIVE ADJECTIVES.

143. This large class includes several kinds of words:—

(1) SIMPLE ADJECTIVES expressing quality; such as safe, happy, deep, fair, rash, beautiful, remotest, terrible, etc.

(2) COMPOUND ADJECTIVES, made up of various words thrown together to make descriptive epithets. Examples are, "Heaven-derived power," "this life-giving book," "his spirit wrapt and wonder-struck," "ice-cold water," "half-dead traveler," "unlooked-for burden," "next-door neighbor," "ivory-handled pistols," "the cold-shudder-inspiring Woman in White."

(3) PROPER ADJECTIVES, derived from proper nouns; such as, "an old English manuscript," "the Christian pearl of charity," "the well-curb had a Chinese roof," "the Roman writer Palladius."

(4) PARTICIPIAL ADJECTIVES, which are either pure participles used to describe, or participles which have lost all verbal force and have no function except to express quality. Examples are,—

Pure participial adjectives: "The healing power of the Messiah," "The shattering sway of one strong arm," "trailing clouds," "The shattered squares have opened into line," "It came on like the rolling simoom," "God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb."

Faded participial adjectives: "Sleep is a blessed thing;" "One is hungry, and another is drunken;" "under the fitting drapery of the jagged and trailing clouds;" "The clearness and quickness are amazing;" "an aged man;" "a charming sight."

Caution.

144. Care is needed, in studying these last-named words, to distinguish between a participle that forms part of a verb, and a participle or participial adjective that belongs to a noun.

For instance: in the sentence, "The work was well and rapidly accomplished," was accomplished is a verb; in this, "No man of his day was more brilliant or more accomplished," was is the verb, and accomplished is an adjective.

Exercises.

1. Bring up sentences with twenty descriptive adjectives, having some of each subclass named in Sec. 143.
2. Is the italicized word an adjective in this?—

The old sources of intellectual excitement seem to be well-nigh exhausted.

ADJECTIVES OF QUANTITY.

145. Adjectives of quantity tell how much or how many. They have these three subdivisions:—

How much.

(1) QUANTITY IN BULK: such words as little, much, some, no, any, considerable, sometimes small, joined usually to singular nouns to express an indefinite measure of the thing spoken of.

The following examples are from Kingsley:—

So he parted with much weeping of the lady. Which we began to do with great labor and little profit. Because I had some knowledge of surgery and blood-letting. But ever she looked on Mr. Oxenham, and seemed to take no care as long as he was by.

Examples of small an adjective of quantity:—

"The deil's in it but I bude to anger him!" said the woman, and walked away with a laugh of small satisfaction.—Macdonald.
'Tis midnight, but small thoughts have I of sleep.—Coleridge.
It gives small idea of Coleridge's way of talking.—Carlyle.

When some, any, no, are used with plural nouns, they come under the next division of adjectives.

How many.

(2) QUANTITY IN NUMBER, which may be expressed exactly by numbers or remotely designated by words expressing indefinite amounts. Hence the natural division into—

(a) Definite numerals; as, "one blaze of musketry;" "He found in the pathway fourteen Spaniards;" "I have lost one brother, but I have gained fourscore;" "a dozen volunteers."

(b) Indefinite numerals, as the following from Kingsley: "We gave several thousand pounds for it;" "In came some five and twenty more, and with them a few negroes;" "Then we wandered for many days;" "Amyas had evidently more schemes in his head;" "He had lived by hunting for some months;" "That light is far too red to be the reflection of any beams of hers."

Single ones of any number of changes.

(3) DISTRIBUTIVE NUMERALS, which occupy a place midway between the last two subdivisions of numeral adjectives; for they are indefinite in telling how many objects are spoken of, but definite in referring to the objects one at a time. Thus,—

Every town had its fair; every village, its wake.—Thackeray.
An arrow was quivering in each body.—Kingsley.
Few on either side but had their shrewd scratch to show.—Id.

Before I taught my tongue to wound My conscience with a sinful sound, Or had the black art to dispense A several sin to every sense. —Vaughan.

Exercise.—Bring up sentences with ten adjectives of quantity.

DEMONSTRATIVE ADJECTIVES.

Not primarily pronouns.

146. The words of this list are placed here instead of among pronominal adjectives, for the reason that they are felt to be primarily adjectives; their pronominal use being evidently a shortening, by which the words point out but stand for words omitted, instead of modifying them. Their natural and original use is to be joined to a noun following or in close connection.

The list.

The demonstrative adjectives are this, that, (plural these, those), yonder (or yon), former, latter; also the pairs one (or the one)—the other, the former—the latter, used to refer to two things which have been already named in a sentence.

Examples.

The following sentences present some examples:—

The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love, The matron's glance that would those looks reprove.—Goldsmith.
These were thy charms...but all these charms are fled.—Id.
About this time I met with an odd volume of the "Spectator."—B. Franklin.
Yonder proud ships are not means of annoyance to you.—D. Webster.
Yon cloud with that long purple cleft.—Wordsworth.
I chose for the students of Kensington two characteristic examples of early art, of equal skill; but in the one case, skill which was progressive—in the other, skill which was at pause.—Ruskin.

Exercise.—Find sentences with five demonstrative adjectives.

Ordinal numerals classed under demonstratives.

147. The class of numerals known as ordinals must be placed here, as having the same function as demonstrative adjectives. They point out which thing is meant among a series of things mentioned. The following are examples:—

The first regular provincial newspapers appear to have been created in the last decade of the seventeenth century, and by the middle of the eighteenth century almost every important provincial town had its local organ.—Bancroft.

These do not, like the other numerals, tell how many things are meant. When we speak of the seventeenth century, we imply nothing as to how many centuries there may be.

PRONOMINAL ADJECTIVES.

Definition.

148. As has been said, pronominal adjectives are primarily pronouns; but, when they modify words instead of referring to them as antecedents, they are changed to adjectives. They are of two kinds,—RELATIVE and INTERROGATIVE,—and are used to join sentences or to ask questions, just as the corresponding pronouns do.

Modify names of persons or things.

149. The RELATIVE ADJECTIVES are which and what; for example,—

It matters not what rank he has, what revenues or garnitures. —Carlyle.
The silver and laughing Xenil, careless what lord should possess the banks that bloomed by its everlasting course.—Bulwer.
The taking of which bark. I verily believe, was the ruin of every mother's son of us.—Kingsley.
In which evil strait Mr. Oxenham fought desperately.—Id.

Indefinite relative adjectives.

150. The INDEFINITE RELATIVE adjectives are what, whatever, whatsoever, whichever, whichsoever. Examples of their use are,—

He in his turn tasted some of its flavor, which, make what sour mouths he would for pretense, proved not altogether displeasing to him.—Lamb.
Whatever correction of our popular views from insight, nature will be sure to bear us out in.—Emerson.
Whatsoever kind of man he is, you at least give him full authority over your son.—Ruskin.
Was there, as it rather seemed, a circle of ominous shadow moving along with his deformity, whichever way he turned himself?—Hawthorne.

New torments I behold, and new tormented Around me, whichsoever way I move, And whichsoever way I turn, and gaze. —Longfellow (From Dante).

151. The INTERROGATIVE ADJECTIVES are which and what. They may be used in direct and indirect questions. As in the pronouns, which is selective among what is known; what inquires about things or persons not known.

In direct questions.

Sentences with which and what in direct questions:—

Which debt must I pay first, the debt to the rich, or the debt to the poor?—Emerson.
But when the Trojan war comes, which side will you take? —Thackeray.
But what books in the circulating library circulate?—Lowell.

What beckoning ghost along the moonlight shade Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade? —Pope.

In indirect questions.

Sentences with which and what in indirect questions:—

His head...looked like a weathercock perched upon his spindle neck to tell which way the wind blew.—Irving.
A lady once remarked, he [Coleridge] could never fix which side of the garden walk would suit him best.—Carlyle.
He was turned before long into all the universe, where it was uncertain what game you would catch, or whether any.—Id.
At what rate these materials would be distributed and precipitated in regular strata, it is impossible to determine.—Agassiz.

Adjective what in exclamations.

152. In exclamatory expressions, what (or what a) has a force somewhat like a descriptive adjective. It is neither relative nor interrogative, but might be called an EXCLAMATORY ADJECTIVE; as,—

Oh, what a revolution! and what a heart must I have, to contemplate without emotion that elevation and that fall!—Burke.
What a piece of work is man!—Shakespeare.
And yet, alas, the making of it right, what a business for long time to come!—Carlyle
Through what hardships it may attain to bear a sweet fruit!—Thoreau.

Exercise.—Find ten sentences containing pronominal adjectives.

INFLECTIONS OF ADJECTIVES.

153 .Adjectives have two inflections,—number and comparison.

NUMBER.—This, That.

History of this—these and that—those.

154. The only adjectives having a plural form are this and that (plural these, those).

This is the old demonstrative; that being borrowed from the forms of the definite article, which was fully inflected in Old English. The article that was used with neuter nouns.

In Middle English the plural of this was this or thise, which changed its spelling to the modern form these.

Those borrowed from this.

But this had also another plural, thās (modern those). The old plural of that was tha (Middle English tho or thow): consequently tho (plural of that) and those (plural of this) became confused, and it was forgotten that those was really the plural of this; and in Modern English we speak of these as the plural of this, and those as the plural of that.

COMPARISON.

155. Comparison is an inflection not possessed by nouns and pronouns: it belongs to adjectives and adverbs.

Meaning of comparison.

When we place two objects side by side, we notice some differences between them as to size, weight, color, etc. Thus, it is said that a cow is larger than a sheep, gold is heavier than iron, a sapphire is bluer than the sky. All these have certain qualities; and when we compare the objects, we do so by means of their qualities,—cow and sheep by the quality of largeness, or size; gold and iron by the quality of heaviness, or weight, etc.,—but not the same degree, or amount, of the quality.

The degrees belong to any beings or ideas that may be known or conceived of as possessing quality; as, "untamed thought, great, giant-like, enormous;" "the commonest speech;" "It is a nobler valor;" "the largest soul."

Also words of quantity may be compared: for example, "more matter, with less wit;" "no fewer than a hundred."

Words that cannot be compared.

156. There are some descriptive words whose meaning is such as not to admit of comparison; for example,—

His company became very agreeable to the brave old professor of arms, whose favorite pupil he was.—Thackeray.
A main difference betwixt men is, whether they attend their own affair or not.—Emerson
It was his business to administer the law in its final and closest application to the offender—Hawthorne.
Freedom is a perpetual, organic, universal institution, in harmony with the Constitution of the United States.—Seward.

So with the words sole, sufficient, infinite, immemorial, indefatigable, indomitable, supreme, and many others.

It is true that words of comparison are sometimes prefixed to them, but, strictly considered, they are not compared.

Definition.

157. Comparison means the changes that words undergo to express degrees in quality, or amounts in quantity.

The two forms.

158. There are two forms for this inflection: the comparative, expressing a greater degree of quality; and the superlative, expressing the greatest degree of quality.

These are called degrees of comparison.

These are properly the only degrees, though the simple, uninflected form is usually called the positive degree.

159. The comparative is formed by adding -er, and the superlative by adding -est, to the simple form; as, red, redder, reddest; blue, bluer, bluest; easy, easier, easiest.

Substitute for inflection in comparison.

160. Side by side with these inflected forms are found comparative and superlative expressions making use of the adverbs more and most. These are often useful as alternative with the inflected forms, but in most cases are used before adjectives that are never inflected.

They came into use about the thirteenth century, but were not common until a century later.

Which rule,— -er and -est or more and most?

161. The English is somewhat capricious in choosing between the inflected forms and those with more and most, so that no inflexible rule can be given as to the formation of the comparative and the superlative.

The general rule is, that monosyllables and easily pronounced words of two syllables add -er and -est; and other words are preceded by more and most.

But room must be left in such a rule for pleasantness of sound and for variety of expression.

To see how literary English overrides any rule that could be given, examine the following taken at random:—

From Thackeray: "The handsomest wives;" "the immensest quantity of thrashing;" "the wonderfulest little shoes;" "more odd, strange, and yet familiar;" "more austere and holy."

From Ruskin: "The sharpest, finest chiseling, and patientest fusing;" "distantest relationships;" "sorrowfulest spectacles."

Carlyle uses beautifulest, mournfulest, honestest, admirablest, indisputablest, peaceablest, most small, etc.

These long, harsh forms are usually avoided, but more and most are frequently used with monosyllables.

162. Expressions are often met with in which a superlative form does not carry the superlative meaning. These are equivalent usually to very with the positive degree; as,—

To this the Count offers a most wordy declaration of the benefits conferred by Spain.—The Nation, No 1507
In all formulas that Johnson could stand by, there needed to be a most genuine substance.—Carlyle
A gentleman, who, though born in no very high degree, was most finished, polished, witty, easy, quiet.—Thackeray
He had actually nothing else save a rope around his neck, which hung behind in the queerest way.—Id.
"So help me God, madam, I will," said Henry Esmond, falling on his knees, and kissing the hand of his dearest mistress.—Id.

Adjectives irregularly compared.

163. Among the variously derived adjectives now in our language there are some which may always be recognized as native English. These are adjectives irregularly compared.

Most of them have worn down or become confused with similar words, but they are essentially the same forms that have lived for so many centuries.

The following lists include the majority of them:—

LIST I.
1.	Good or well	Better	Best
2.	Evil, bad, ill	Worse	Worst
3.	Little	Less, lesser	Least
4.	Much or many	More	Most
5.	Old	Elder, older	Eldest, oldest
6.	Nigh	Nigher	Nighest, next
7.	Near	Nearer	Nearest
8.	Far	Farther, further	Farthest, furthest
9.	Late	Later, latter	Latest, last
10.	Hind	Hinder	Hindmost, hindermost

LIST II.
These have no adjective positive:—
1.	[In]	Inner	Inmost, innermost
2.	[Out]	Outer, utter	Outmost, outermost Utmost, uttermost
3.	[Up]	Upper	Upmost, uppermost

LIST III.
A few of comparative form but not comparative meaning:—
After	Over	Under	Nether

Remarks on Irregular Adjectives.

List I.

164. (1) The word good has no comparative or superlative, but takes the place of a positive to better and best. There was an old comparative bet, which has gone out of use; as in the sentence (14th century), "Ich singe bet than thu dest" (I sing better than thou dost). The superlative I form was betst, which has softened to the modern best.

(2) In Old English, evil was the positive to worse, worst; but later bad and ill were borrowed from the Norse, and used as positives to the same comparative and superlative. Worser was once used, a double comparative; as in Shakespeare,—

O, throw away the worser part of it.—Hamlet.

(3) Little is used as positive to less, least, though from a different root. A double comparative, lesser, is often used; as,—

We have it in a much lesser degree.—Matthew Arnold.
Thrust the lesser half by main force into the fists of Ho-ti. —Lamb.

(4) The words much and many now express quantity; but in former times much was used in the sense of large, great, and was the same word that is found in the proverb, "Many a little makes a mickle." Its spelling has been micel, muchel, moche, much, the parallel form mickle being rarely used.

The meanings greater, greatest, are shown in such phrases as,—

The more part being of one mind, to England we sailed.—Kingsley.
The most part kept a stolid indifference.—Id.

The latter, meaning the largest part, is quite common.

(5) The forms elder, eldest, are earlier than older, oldest. A few other words with the vowel o had similar change in the comparative and superlative, as long, strong, etc.; but these have followed old by keeping the same vowel o in all the forms, instead of lenger, strenger, etc., the old forms.

(6) and (7) Both nigh and near seem regular in Modern English, except the form next; but originally the comparison was nigh, near, next. In the same way the word high had in Middle English the superlative hexte.

By and by the comparative near was regarded as a positive form, and on it were built a double comparative nearer, and the superlative nearest, which adds -est to what is really a comparative instead of a simple adjective.

(8) These words also show confusion and consequent modification, coming about as follows: further really belongs to another series,—forth, further, first. First became entirely detached from the series, and furthest began to be used to follow the comparative further; then these were used as comparative and superlative of far.

The word far had formerly the comparative and superlative farrer, farrest. In imitation of further, furthest, th came into the others, making the modern farther, farthest. Between the two sets as they now stand, there is scarcely any distinction, except perhaps further is more used than farther in the sense of additional; as, for example,—

When that evil principle was left with no further material to support it.—Hawthorne.

(9) Latter and last are the older forms. Since later, latest, came into use, a distinction has grown up between the two series. Later and latest have the true comparative and superlative force, and refer to time; latter and last are used in speaking of succession, or series, and are hardly thought of as connected in meaning with the word late.

(10) Hinder is comparative in form, but not in meaning. The form hindmost is really a double superlative, since the m is for -ma, an old superlative ending, to which is added -ost, doubling the inflection. Hind-er-m-ost presents the combination comparative + superlative + superlative.

List II.

165. In List II. (Sec. 163) the comparatives and superlatives are adjectives, but they have no adjective positives.

The comparatives are so in form, but not in their meaning.

The superlatives show examples again of double inflection, and of comparative added to double-superlative inflection.

Examples (from Carlyle) of the use of these adjectives: "revealing the inner splendor to him;" "a mind that has penetrated into the inmost heart of a thing;" "This of painting is one of the outermost developments of a man;" "The outer is of the day;" "far-seeing as the sun, the upper light of the world;" "the innermost moral soul;" "their utmost exertion."

-Most added to other words.

166. The ending -most is added to some words that are not usually adjectives, or have no comparative forms.

There, on the very topmost twig, sits that ridiculous but sweet-singing bobolink.—H. W. Beecher.
Decidedly handsome, having such a skin as became a young woman of family in northernmost Spain.—De Quincey.
Highest and midmost, was descried The royal banner floating wide.—Scott.

List III.

167. The adjectives in List III. are like the comparative forms in List II. in having no adjective positives. They have no superlatives, and have no comparative force, being merely descriptive.

Her bows were deep in the water, but her after deck was still dry.—Kingsley.
Her, by the by, in after years I vainly endeavored to trace.—De Quincey.
The upper and the under side of the medal of Jove.—Emerson.
Have you ever considered what a deep under meaning there lies in our custom of strewing flowers?—Ruskin.
Perhaps he rose out of some nether region.—Hawthorne.

Over is rarely used separately as an adjective.

CAUTION FOR ANALYZING OR PARSING.

Think what each adjective belongs to.

168. Some care must be taken to decide what word is modified by an adjective. In a series of adjectives in the same sentence, all may belong to the same noun, or each may modify a different word or group of words.

For example, in this sentence, "The young pastor's voice was tremulously sweet, rich, deep, and broken," it is clear that all four adjectives after was modify the noun voice. But in this sentence, "She showed her usual prudence and her usual incomparable decision," decision is modified by the adjective incomparable; usual modifies incomparable decision, not decision alone; and the pronoun her limits usual incomparable decision.

Adjectives modifying the same noun are said to be of the same rank; those modifying different words or word groups are said to be adjectives of different rank. This distinction is valuable in a study of punctuation.

Exercise.

In the following quotations, tell what each adjective modifies:—

1. Whenever that look appeared in her wild, bright, deeply black eyes, it invested them with a strange remoteness and intangibility.—Hawthorne.
2. It may still be argued, that in the present divided state of Christendom a college which is positively Christian must be controlled by some religious denomination.—Noah Porter.
3. Every quaking leaf and fluttering shadow sent the blood backward to her heart.—Mrs. Stowe.
4. This, our new government, is the first in the history of the world based upon this great physical, philosophical, and moral truth.—A. H. Stephens
5. May we not, therefore, look with confidence to the ultimate universal acknowledgment of the truths upon which our system rests?—Id.
6. A few improper jests and a volley of good, round, solid, satisfactory, and heaven-defying oaths.—Hawthorne.
7. It is well known that the announcement at any private rural entertainment that there is to be ice cream produces an immediate and profound impression.—Holmes.

ADVERBS USED AS ADJECTIVES.

169. By a convenient brevity, adverbs are sometimes used as adjectives; as, instead of saying, "the one who was then king," in which then is an adverb, we may say "the then king," making then an adjective. Other instances are,—

My then favorite, in prose, Richard Hooker.—Ruskin.
Our sometime sister, now our queen.—Shakespeare
Messrs. Bradbury and Evans, the then and still owners. —Trollope.
The seldom use of it.—Trench.
For thy stomach's sake, and thine often infirmities.—Bible.

HOW TO PARSE ADJECTIVES.

What to tell in parsing.

170. Since adjectives have no gender, person, or case, and very few have number, the method of parsing is simple.

In parsing an adjective, tell—

(1) The class and subclass to which it belongs.

(2) Its number, if it has number.

(3) Its degree of comparison, if it can be compared.

(4) What word or words it modifies.

MODEL FOR PARSING.

These truths are not unfamiliar to your thoughts.

These points out what truths, therefore demonstrative; plural number, having a singular, this; cannot be compared; modifies the word truths.

Unfamiliar describes truths, therefore descriptive; not inflected for number; compared by prefixing more and most; positive degree; modifies truths.

Exercise.

Parse in full each adjective in these sentences:—

1. A thousand lives seemed concentrated in that one moment to Eliza.
2. The huge green fragment of ice on which she alighted pitched and creaked.
3. I ask nothing of you, then, but that you proceed to your end by a direct, frank, manly way.
4. She made no reply, and I waited for none.
5. A herd of thirty or forty tall ungainly figures took their way, with awkward but rapid pace, across the plain.
6. Gallantly did the lion struggle in the folds of his terrible enemy, whose grasp each moment grew more fierce and secure, and most astounding were those frightful yells.
7. This gave the young people entire freedom, and they enjoyed it to the fullest extent.
8. I will be as harsh as truth and as uncompromising as justice.
9. To every Roman citizen he gives, To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.
10. Each member was permitted to entertain all the rest on his or her birthday, on which occasion the elders of the family were bound to be absent.
11. Instantly the mind inquires whether these fishes under the bridge, yonder oxen in the pasture, those dogs in the yard, are immutably fishes, oxen, and dogs.
12. I know not what course others may take.
13. With every third step, the tomahawk fell.
14. What a ruthless business this war of extermination is!
15. I was just emerging from that many-formed crystal country.
16. On what shore has not the prow of your ships dashed?
17. The laws and institutions of his country ought to have been more to him than all the men in his country.
18. Like most gifted men, he won affections with ease.
19. His letters aim to elicit the inmost experience and outward fortunes of those he loves, yet are remarkably self-forgetful.
20. Their name was the last word upon his lips.
21. The captain said it was the last stick he had seen.
22. Before sunrise the next morning they let us out again.
23. He was curious to know to what sect we belonged.
24. Two hours elapsed, during which time I waited.
25. In music especially, you will soon find what personal benefit there is in being serviceable.
26. To say what good of fashion we can, it rests on reality, and hates nothing so much as pretenders.
27. Here lay two great roads, not so much for travelers that were few, as for armies that were too many by half.
28. On whichever side of the border chance had thrown Joanna, the same love to France would have been nurtured.
29. What advantage was open to him above the English boy?
30. Nearer to our own times, and therefore more interesting to us, is the settlement of our own country.
31. Even the topmost branches spread out and drooped in all directions, and many poles supported the lower ones.
32. Most fruits depend entirely on our care.
33. Even the sourest and crabbedest apple, growing in the most unfavorable position, suggests such thoughts as these, it is so noble a fruit.
34. Let him live in what pomps and prosperities he like, he is no literary man.
35. Through what hardships it may bear a sweet fruit!
36. Whatsoever power exists will have itself organized.
37. A hard-struggling, weary-hearted man was he.

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