and all the primary conditions for good
tone are established.

More songs float out from the broken windows of the negro cabins in the
South than from the palatial homes on Fifth Avenue. Henry Ward Beecher
said the happiest days of his life were not when he had become an
international character, but when he was an unknown minister out in
Lawrenceville, Ohio, sweeping his own church, and working as a carpenter
to help pay the grocer. Happiness is largely an attitude of mind, of
viewing life from the right angle. The optimistic attitude can be
cultivated, and it will express itself in voice charm. A telephone
company recently placarded this motto in their booths: "The Voice with
the Smile Wins." It does. Try it.

Reading joyous prose, or lyric poetry, will help put smile and joy of
soul into your voice. The following selections are excellent for
practise.

_REMEMBER_ that when you first practise these classics you are to give
sole attention to two things: a joyous attitude of heart and body, and
bright tones of voice. After these ends have been attained to your
satisfaction, carefully review the principles of public speaking laid
down in the preceding chapters and put them into practise as you read
these passages again and again. _It would be better to commit each
selection to memory._

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTISE

_FROM MILTON'S "L'ALLEGRO"_

Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee
Jest, and youthful Jollity,
Quips and Cranks and wanton Wiles,
Nods and Becks, and wreathed Smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek,--
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides.

Come, and trip it as ye go
On the light fantastic toe;
And in thy right hand lead with thee
The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty:
And, if I give thee honor due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crew,
To live with her, and live with thee,
In unreproved pleasures free;

To hear the lark begin his flight,
And singing, startle the dull Night
From his watch-tower in the skies,
Till the dappled Dawn doth rise;
Then to come in spite of sorrow,
And at my window bid good-morrow
Through the sweetbrier, or the vine,
Or the twisted eglantine;
While the cock with lively din
Scatters the rear of darkness thin,
And to the stack, or the barn-door,
Stoutly struts his dames before;

Oft listening