falls from his hand."

 

The same brilliant Frenchman sent this sound advice to his pupil, Guy de

Maupassant: "Whatever may be the thing which one wishes to say, there is but one

word for expressing it, only one verb to animate it, only one adjective to

qualify it. It is essential to search for this word, for this verb, for this

adjective, until they are discovered, and to be satisfied with nothing else."

 

Walter Savage Landor once wrote: "I hate false words, and seek with care,

difficulty, and moroseness those that fit the thing." So did Sentimental Tommy,

as related by James M. Barrie in his novel bearing his hero's name as a title.

No wonder T. Sandys became an author and a lion!

 

Tommy, with another lad, is writing an essay on "A Day in Church," in

competition for a university scholarship. He gets on finely until he pauses for

lack of a word. For nearly an hour he searches for this elusive thing, until

suddenly he is told that the allotted time is up, and he has lost! Barrie may

tell the rest:

 

Essay! It was no more an essay than a twig is a tree, for the gowk had stuck in

the middle of his second page. Yes, stuck is the right expression, as his

chagrined teacher had to admit when the boy was cross-examined. He had not been

"up to some of his tricks;" he had stuck, and his explanations, as you will

admit, merely emphasized his incapacity.