the area (by -5.4% during the period 1991-1996) due to the further decline in the manufacturing sector and construction, while local economy is increasingly based on services. The major negative change is recorded for Middlesbrough (-10.3%), the decline is more contained in Stockton (-4.9%) while Redcar and Cleveland maintains practically unaltered its employment levels (0.2%) (table 4.2). Employment fell in the manufacturing sector and construction especially in Stockton and Redcar and Cleveland while it increased slightly in Middlesbrough.35 Almost 70% of employment on Teesside is in the service sector while manufacturing absorbs 23.5% (table 4.3.). Service industries dominate employment opportunities for both men and women, but through non-standard contracts (TVJSU, 1995).

35 The negative performance of the service sector and of total employment are explained by considering the re-organisation of the local governments' offices. In practice, there have been no huge job losses as figures would suggest; employees in the public sector have simply changed their employer, from the Cleveland County Council to the single boroughs.
Table 4.2. Employment change by sector and borough, 1991-1996

Sector
Middlesbrough
Redcar & Cleveland
Stockton on Tees
Teesside

Agriculture, fishing energy and water
170
-25
390
535

Manufacturing
570
-1840
-6090
-7360

Construction
-30
-50
-1560
-1640

Services
-6490
1990
3760
-740

Total
-5790
70
-3500
-9220

(-10.3%)
(0.2%)
(-4.9%)
(-5.4%)

Source: TVJSU

Table 4.3. Employees in employment by sector and borough, 1996

Sector
Middlesbrough
Redcar & Cleveland
Stockton on Tees
Teesside

Agriculture, fishing energy and water
1.3%
2.6%
1.8%
1.9%

Manufacturing
10.5%
33.6%
26.5%
23.5%

Construction
5.6%
5.5%
6.0%
5.7%

Services
82.6%
58.3%
65.7%
68.9%

Total
100.0%
100.0%
100.0%
100.0%

Source: TVJSU

Table 4.4. shows that the male full-time employment has decreased substantially in all the boroughs of Teesside, in favour of part-time occupations. Female full time employment instead has increased possibly due to employment opportunities in the public sector, in light manufacturing activities, and their association with lower costs of labour.
During recent years, the work culture of the area has lost its original specificity to become increasingly attuned to the transformation of employment relations at national level. Flexibility in and out of the workplace has become the main principle governing employment relationships on Teesside where, due to the limited job opportunities, workers are expected to adapt to market demands. According to the projections by the TVJSU (1999), the trends in employment highlighted above will characterise the local labour market until 2006. Accordingly, a net increase of jobs is likely to be recorded in the service sector (approximately 18,000), with a slight rise in employment in construction, while employment in manufacturing is expected to fall (-3,500 jobs). Part-time employment will characterise the new job creation (80% of new jobs will be on the basis of part-time or fixed contracts) while the number of people with two or more jobs is also likely to increase (+2000). Yet, the changing structure of the local economy and the persistence of deep pools of unemployed people seem to have delineated also other categories of workers. Indeed, during the 1990s besides people with two or more jobs and those in casual employment, the local labour market has progressively witnessed the increase in people working on fixed-term contracts (jobs are created for the duration of a specific project) and in the black economy, although no official statistics are available for the area (ibid.).

36 Essentially the ability to allocate labour to a wide range of tasks previously constrained by skill demarcations (functional flexibility).

37 The reference is to external or organisational flexibility whereby labour is utilised according to changing production needs.
4.5. Conclusions

In summary, the end of full male employment on Teesside has resulted from the interaction of market and non-market forces, and a major role has to be attributed to Teesside's specific industrial culture. The institutional configuration of the area was centred upon a few big companies. A culture of consensus characterised capital and labour relations whereby worker wage benefits were inextricably linked to company profitability gains. In addition, companies committed to the community through the production of profits in and through Teesside. Yet, the area's governing structures were attuned to the demand of capital. However, such a social pact could hardly be honoured when the convergence of economic events and policy interventions unfavourably affected local industrial performance. From the end of the 1970s, the local labour market saw a growing number of workers expelled from productive processes and, for those still at work, a re-configuration of employment practices. At the same time, the shift from standard forms of employment to non-standard contracts has affected the local culture of work which is now based, as at wider level, upon the principle of flexibility.

Part 2 – Explaining industrial unemployment in the chemicals sector

4.6. Introduction

The mid-1980s marked the onset of the latest phase of profound restructuring for the chemicals industry on Teesside which is still on-going. As previous comprehensive research work is dated around the mid-1980s (Hudson, 1983; Foord et al., 1985; Chapman, 1986), the information presented here, covering the 1990s, is quite original. Global changes in the industry had started to undermine ICI, the main company of the area and a major international player already by the end of the 1970s. Unable to maintain technological leadership in a market where the entry of new players soon led to saturation and an industry-wise decrease in profitability, ICI started a major process of industrial restructuring. This consisted of re-positioning its business and, at the same time, embarked upon a cost-cutting policy which impacted decisively on the cost of labour. The exit from the most cyclically vulnerable segments of the market, and a radical re-organisation of employment relations have become the driving imperatives of ICI during the 1990s.
The reading of the process of employment change in the chemical industry of Teesside presented below contrasts with the dominant academic view (Bruno and Sachs, 1985; CEPR, 1995; OECD, 1994; Layard et al., 1994) that attacks wages and labour rigidity. Whilst not denying that ICI was characterised by an ‘expensive’ model of employment relations that it reproduced over the years, I show that its re-organisation of the business and re-definition of employment relations must be considered in the light of the modified global sectoral environment of the company. Yet, in contrast with orthodox claims, the corporate restructuring path has been centred upon the downward adjustment of the employment relation.

Section 4.7. reviews the historical development of the chemical industry on Teesside, by providing also an account of the sectoral industrial culture. Section 4.8. analyses the


RICAL GENERAL NOTES FOR 2019 CBC (continued)

10) Screw anchors shall be Powers Screw-Bolt+/Hangermate+, Mason Ind. N.Y. SAST, or Hilti Kwik HUS-EZ/HUS-EZ I for minimum 3000 psi concrete slabs, beams, or walls and concrete filled decks (sand light or normal weight) installed in accordance with ICC Reports ICC ESR 3889, 2713 or 3027, respectively. Testing shall be done in the presence of the special inspector and a report of the test results shall be submitted to the enforcement agency. If any anchors fail, test all previously untested anchors installed by the same trade until 20 consecutive anchors pass. Then resume the original test frequency. Screw anchors shall not be tested using a torque wrench. Screw anchors may be loosened a maximum of one full turn to facilitate the positioning of a tension test collar. Following the tension test, the anchor shall be re-torqued in accordance with the manufacturer's installation instructions. Refer to page A0.5 for test loads.

Notes on Suspended Raceways:

1) Per 2019 CBC Sections 1601.1.4 & 1617A.1.18 applicable only to OSHPD-1, 2, 4, 5 and 1R designated projects, distributed conduit, cable trays and raceways weighing 5 lbs/ft or less are exempt from design for the seismic forces of ASCE 7-16 Section 13.3. For remaining electrical distribution systems, per 2019 CBC Section 1617A1.26, cable trays and raceways shall be designed for seismic forces and seismic relative displacements. In addition, conduit equal to or greater than 2.5" trade size and attached to panels, cabinets, or other equipment subject to seismic relative displacements shall be provided with flexible connections or designed for seismic forces and seismic relative displacements. Design for the seismic forces and relative displacements shall not be required for raceway and associated components to accommodate the relative displacement between component and piping, where the cable tray or raceway is positively attached to the structure, and where one of the following apply:
   a) Trapeze assemblies with 3/8" or 1/2" diameter rod hangers not exceeding 12" in length from the conduit, cable tray, or raceway support point to the connection at the supporting structure are used to support the cable tray or raceway, and the total weight supported by any single trapeze is 100 lbs or less; or
   b) The conduit, cable tray, or raceway is supported by individual rod hangers 3/8" or 1/2" in diameter, and each hanger in the raceway run is 12" or less in length from the conduit, cable tray, or raceway support point connection to the supporting structure, and the total weight supported by any single rod is 50 lbs or less.

2) Design for the seismic forces and relative displacements shall not be required for conduit, regardless of the value of Ip, where the conduit size is less than 2.5" trade size.

3) Cable tray transverse and longitudinal brace spacing shall not exceed those specified by the manufacturer. Rigid Metal Conduit (RMC, Schedule 40 pipe), Intermediate Metal Conduit (IMC), and Electrical Metallic Tubing (EMT), shall be braced at spacings tabulated in Section S. Longitudinal brace spacings shall not exceed 3 times the tabulated transverse brace spacings. For cases where multiple conduits with varying brace spacings are supported on a trapeze, the smallest brace spacing shall govern. The seismic design engineer may design brace spacings for trapezed conduits based on combined conduits sections and/or by adding steel strengthening sections on a job by job basis subject to approval by the enforcement agency.

4) Transverse restraints for cable trays shall be installed at general support locations. Cable trays must be positively fastened to the support as detailed in Section E.
ELECTRICAL GENERAL NOTES (continued)

7) If a 2 piece rod is used to support raceways, minimum engagement of the rod in the coupling nut shall be equal to the rod diameter. Rods shall be run up tight in the coupling nut.

8) For vertical support methods at seismic brace locations other than what are detailed in this manual, the seismic design engineer must provide calculations and/or testing of any additional components or materials (e.g. hangers, clamps, etc.) to comply with the 2013 CBC on a job by job basis subject to review and approval by the enforcement agency.

9) Electrical pull boxes installed directly in-line with the conduit systems (no flexes) may be supported and laterally braced as part of the conduit bracing system. Where necessary, consider the ability of the conduit(s) to transfer gravity and seismic loads to adjacent vertical supports and braces.

Notes on Vertical Risers:

1) Vertical raceways supported at each floor shall be considered seismically braced if the penetration through each floor is tightly packed and the floor to floor spacing does not exceed the maximum brace spacing tabulated in Section S. Tops of risers exceeding 3 feet shall be provided with a 4-way brace. Where the 4-way brace is attached to the horizontal raceway, it shall be installed within 2 feet of the centerline of the riser.

2) Vertical raceways in an open shaft must be attached to steel supports with both steel supports and connections sized to accept the combined gravity and seismic loads. Thermal loads shall be considered, where applicable. Lateral seismic restraint spacings for conduit shall not exceed the spacings tabulated in Section S. Supports and connections must be engineered on a job by job basis subject to approval by the enforcement agency. Seismic relative displacement between floors shall be considered in the design.

3) A conduit penetrating a floor with the annular space packed with firestop may act as an all-directional brace at the end of a horizontal conduit run as described in Note 1 above and depicted on Page A24.0 if the distance from the centerline of the floor to the top of the horizontal conduit is less than 'A', where 'A' is a function of the maximum transverse brace spacing, 'S', as defined on Page A22.1.
ELECTRICAL GENERAL NOTES FOR 2019 CBC (continued)

5) Seismic restraints for trapeze supported conduit shall be attached to the trapeze member at the hanger locations as detailed in Section F. Conduits supported by trapezes at seismic brace locations shall utilize Mason West, Inc. Type SSC, strut steel clamp (Refer to Page X8.0) for Rigid Metal Conduit (RMC, Schedule 40 pipe) and 2½" to 4" diameter EMT or IMC or Type SSCE, strut steel clamp for up to 2" diameter EMT or IMC (Refer to Page X8.0) utilizing details in Section F.

6) The conduit weights tabulated in the appendix for RMC, IMC, and EMT materials consider the conduit full of conductors to approximate the maximum operating weight. Similarly, the cable tray weight tabulated in the same section consider the cable trays full of cable as allowed by the National Electrical Code (NEC).

7) If a 2 piece rod is used to support raceways, minimum engagement of the rod in the coupling nut shall be equal to the rod diameter. Rods shall be run up tight in the coupling nut.

8) For vertical support methods at seismic brace locations other than what are detailed in this manual, the seismic design engineer must provide calculations and/or testing of any additional components or materials (e.g. hangers, clamps, etc.) to comply with the 2013 CBC on a job by job basis subject to review and approval by the enforcement agency.

9) Electrical pull boxes installed directly in-line with the conduit systems (no flexes) may be supported and laterally braced as part of the conduit bracing system. Where necessary, consider the ability of the conduit(s) to transfer gravity and seismic loads to adjacent vertical supports and braces.

Notes on Vertical Risers:

1) Vertical raceways supported at each floor shall be considered seismically braced if the penetration through each floor is tightly packed and the floor to floor spacing does not exceed the maximum brace spacing tabulated in Section S. Tops of risers exceeding 3 feet shall be provided with a 4-way brace. Where the 4-way brace is attached to the horizontal raceway, it shall be installed within 2 feet of the centerline of the riser.

2) Vertical raceways in an open shaft must be attached to steel supports with both steel supports and connections sized to accept the combined gravity and seismic loads. Thermal loads shall be considered, where applicable. Lateral seismic restraint spacings for conduit shall not exceed the spacings tabulated in Section S. Supports and connections must be engineered on a job by job basis subject to approval by the enforcement agency. Seismic relative displacement between floors shall be considered in the design.

3) A conduit penetrating a floor with the annular space packed with firestop may act as an all-directional brace at the end of a horizontal conduit run as described in Note 1 above and depicted on Page A24.0 if the distance from the centerline of the floor to the top of the horizontal conduit is less than 'A', where 'A' is a function of the maximum transverse brace spacing, 'S', as defined on Page A22.1.
ELECTRICAL DESIGN PROCEDURE

Follow the five steps below to determine the seismic kit


 the aqueous additive compositions are free of color-imparting and effect-imparting pigments and they are also preferably free of curing agents.

The amount of layered silicate in the layered silicate containing aqueous additive compositions and/or the amount of the layered silicate containing aqueous additive composition in the water-based coating composition can preferably be chosen such that a content of layered silicate (solid) of 0.05 to 0.5, preferably of 0.05 to 0.3 percent by weight, based on the total amount of the water-based coating composition, i.e. based on the total amount of the ready-to-spray water-based coating composition, is obtained.

The aqueous additive compositions containing layered silicate according to the invention are stable in storage and may be stored without thickening and gelling, for example over a period of approx. 2 years without any problems. Prior art aqueous additive compositions containing layered silicate do not exhibit this long-term storage stability. They gel prematurely. While prior art compositions may indeed be re-liquefied by appropriate stirring, their rheological activity is then lost.

The aqueous additive compositions containing layered silicate are used for the production of color-imparting and/or special effect-imparting water-based coating compositions, in particular for the production of color-imparting and/or special effect-imparting water-based base coat coating compositions or water-based color-imparting and/or special effect-imparting one-layer top coat coating compositions in the context of single layer or multilayer coating. Color-imparting and/or special effect-imparting should here be taken to mean that the corresponding coating compositions contain only color-imparting pigments, only special effect-imparting pigments or color-imparting and special effect-imparting pigments. The coatings produced with these color-imparting and/or special effect-imparting coating compositions are here intended to impart a
desired color, a desired special effect or a desired color in combination with a special effect to the substrate to be coated. The present invention thus also relates to the use of the aqueous additive compositions for production of water-based coating compositions, in particular for production of color-imparting and/or special effect-imparting water-based base coat coating compositions.

The present invention is also directed to a process for the production of water-based coating compositions containing layered silicate, in particular water-based base coat coating compositions, wherein the layered silicates are incorporated into the water-based coating composition in the form of the above-defined aqueous additive compositions containing layered silicate. The aqueous additive compositions containing layered silicate may here be incorporated into a finished water-based coating composition or into constituents thereof.

The aqueous additive compositions containing layered silicate are preferably added to an already completely formulated pigmented water-based coating composition, in particular a water-based base coat coating composition or water-based one-layer top coat coating composition. This may proceed, for example, by manual stirring or by shaking. The aqueous additive composition containing layered silicate is preferably incorporated into the pigmented water-based coating composition immediately before application. Due to its very good storage stability, the aqueous additive composition containing layered silicate may be produced as a semifinished product and stored until use. It may thus also be used, for example, as a component of a "paint mixing system", as is in particular used in vehicle repair coating for the production of color-imparting and/or special effect-imparting base coat coating compositions. As is known, such a paint mixing system is based on a defined number of individual mixing components containing coloring and/or special effect pigments and optionally further for example binder components, which can be mixed as required to yield a coating with the desired color/special effect.

It is, of course, also possible to incorporate the aqueous additive compositions containing layered silicate according to the invention during
the production of an water-based coating composition produced from scratch. In principle, the water-based coating compositions containing the aqueous additive compositions also exhibit excellent storage stability of for example up to six months.

The water-based coating compositions containing the aqueous additive compositions contain the conventional constituents of a water-based pigmented base coat coating composition or one-layer top coat coating composition: color-imparting and/or special effect-imparting pigments, one or more binders and water and optionally at least one of the following constituents: crosslinking agents, fillers, conventional coating additives and organic solvents.

Examples of binders are conventional film-forming, water-dilutable binders familiar to the person skilled in the art, such as water-dilutable polyester resins, water-dilutable (meth)acrylic copolymer resins or water-dilutable polyester/(meth)acrylic copolymer hybrids and water-dilutable polyurethane resins or polyurethane/(meth)acrylic copolymer hybrids. These may be reactive or non-functional resins.

The water-based coating compositions may be self drying (physically drying), self crosslinking or externally crosslinking. Accordingly, the water-based coating compositions may contain crosslinking agents, such as, for example, free or blocked polyisocyanates or amino resins, for example, melamine resins. Selection of the optionally used crosslinking agents depends on the type of crosslinkable groups in the binders and is familiar to the person skilled in the art. The crosslinking agents may be used individually or in combination. The mixing ratio of crosslinking agent solids to binder solids amounts, for example, to 10:90 to 40:60, preferably 20:80 to 30:70.

The water-based coating compositions contain conventional coating pigments, for example, special effect pigments (effect-imparting pigments) and/or color-imparting pigments selected from among white, colored and black pigments.
Examples of special effect pigments are conventional pigments which impart to a coating a special effect, e.g. a color and/or lightness flop dependent on the angle of observation, are metal pigments. Example of metal pigments are those made from aluminum, copper or other metals, interference pigments such as, for example, metal oxide coated metal pigments, for example, iron oxide coated aluminum, coated mica such as, for example, titanium dioxide coated mica, pigments which produce a graphite effect, iron oxide in flake form, liquid crystal pigments, coated aluminum oxide pigments, coated silicon dioxide pigments. Examples of white, colored and black pigments are the conventional inorganic or organic pigments known to the person skilled in the art, such as, for example, titanium dioxide, iron oxide pigments, carbon black, azo pigments, phthalocyanine pigments, quinacridone pigments, pyrrolopyrrole pigments, perylene pigments.

The water-based coating compositions may contain conventional coating additives in conventional quantities, for example, of 0.1 to 5 wt.%, relative to the solids content thereof. Examples are neutralizing agents, antifoaming agents, wetting agents, adhesion promoters, catalysts, levelling agents, anticratering agents, thickeners and light stabilizers.

The water-based coating compositions may contain conventional coating solvents, for example, in a proportion of preferably less than 20 wt.%, particularly preferably of less than 15 wt.%. These are conventional coating solvents, which may originate, for example, from the production of the binders or are added separately. Examples of such solvents are those mentioned already above in the description of the layered silicate containing compositions.

Water-based coating compositions have solids contents of, for example, 10 to 45 wt.%, preferably of 15 to 35 wt.%. The ratio by weight of pigment content to the resin solids content is, for example, from 0.05:1 to 2:1. For special-effect water-based base coat coating compositions it is preferably 0.06:1 to 0.6:1 and for solid color (single-tone) water-based base coat coating compositions it is preferably higher, for example, 0.06:1.
to 2:1, in each case relative to the weight of solids.

The water-based coating compositions have for example viscosities in the range of 50 to 300 mPas (measured at a shear rate of 235 s\(^{-1}\) with HAAKE viscosimeter Typ RS1). These low viscous coating compositions can easier be filtered and applied compared to high viscous coating compositions.

The water-based coating compositions may be used for the production of a color- and/or special effect-imparting single-stage top coating layer within a one- or multilayer coating or preferably for the production of the color- and/or special effect-imparting coating layer within a base coat/clear coat two-layer coating. The water-borne base coating compositions or single-stage top coating compositions may be applied by conventional methods. They are preferably applied by spraying to a dry film thickness of, for example, 8 to 40 µm; for special-effect water-borne base coats the dry film thickness is, for example, 8 to 25 µm, while for solid color water-borne base coats it is preferably greater, for example, 10 to 40 µm. In case of basecoat/clear coat two-layer coating application preferably proceeds by the wet-on-wet process, i.e. after a flash-off phase, for example, at 20 to 80°C, the water-based base coat layers are overcoated with a clear coat to a dry film thickness of preferably 30 to 60 µm and dried or crosslinked together with the latter at temperatures of, for example, 20 to


 from 1907 with the commotion around Synge's *The Playboy of the Western World*. The second confrontation follows only two years later and involves George Bernard Shaw's *The Shewing-Up of Blanco Posnet*. Shaw had written the play for Her Majesty's Theatre, but was refused a license from the Lord Chamberlain on the grounds of blasphemy. Thereupon Shaw offers the play to the Abbey, which is located in an other jurisdiction and can therefore not be convicted. In August of that year the play is performed and becomes a huge success. Yeats has made a stand that artistic integrity should
come before political influence, and his persistence restores much of the popularity the Abbey had lost in 1907. The third and final upheaval takes place in 1926. After several years of struggling – mainly financially – the Abbey greets a new playwright, Séan O'Casey. His first two plays are welcomed with great enthusiasm, but his third play, *The Plough and the Stars*, causes a storm of protest reminiscent of the riots that had accompanied Synge's play. Even some of the actors object to the sexual and religious content of particular scenes. The Directors hold firm, however, and partly due to the commotion the play is performed to full houses. Up to this day O'Casey's controversial piece is a very well-known and well-liked play.

The Abbey Theatre is symptomatic for Yeats' passion and conviction in accomplishing his scheme to educate the people. His choice of plays that tell a genuine Irish story has at times been controversial, but his perseverance eventually earns him the respect of friends and foes. In 1925 he is responsible for making the Abbey the first state-supported theatre in the British Isles, and even after his withdrawal it remains primarily a theatre of the writers and the people.

3.2.3 Literature

3.2.3.1 The Wanderings of Oisin

*The Wanderings of Oisin* is an epic poem in the style of Homer's *Odyssey* that tells the story of Oisin, a great Irish hero. After he falls in love with the faery princess Niamh, she and Oisin exchange the mortal realm for three immortal faery isles where they live and feast for three hundred years. After this time, Oisin regrets leaving his friends behind and he wishes to return to his old world to visit them. He lends Niamh's faery horse but is told he cannot touch the ground or he will instantly become mortal again. Upon his return Oisin notices that the world he left behind has changed dramatically. His fellow warriors are dead and Christianity has replaced the religion and traditions of pagan Ireland. When he tries to help two men lift a
sack full of sand from the ground, his saddle girth breaks and he falls onto the ground where
the three hundred years he spent in faery land catch up with him in a single moment. The
entire poem consists of three parts and is constructed as a dialogue between Oisin and St.
Patrick after Oisin's return to the mortal world.

Yeats writes the main part of his great epic poem in Sligo during the summer and
autumn of 1889. It is the first in what has to become a Légende des Siècles, narrating and
glorifying the Irish history. The story of this poem is largely taken from legends in the Fenian
or Ossianic Cycle. The Fenian Cycle or Fiannaídheacht centres around the mythical hero
Fionn mac Cumhaill. He is the leader of a band of warriors called the Fianna Éireann, who
roam the country looking for adventure and warfare. He is also Oisin's father and that is the
reason why the Fenian Cycle is known as the Ossianic Cycle too. Yeats puts a number of the
original stories together to create his own adaptation of the legend. Apart from the Fenian
Cycle, Yeats mentions two other sources for this poem. The first is “a most beautiful old poem
by one of the numerous half-forgotten Gaelic poets who lived in Ireland in the last century.”
(Wade 132) This poem, left unnamed by Yeats, has been identified by Alspach as Michael
Comyn's “The Lay of Oisin on the Land of Youth” (850). This poem deals with the same topic
as Yeats' and especially in the opening lines Yeats stays very close to the original (851). The
second source Yeats mentions is rooted in his own tradition and concerns the islands Oisin
visits. According to Yeats these stem from the “three phantom islands” (Wade 132) of Tír na
nÓg, also known as the Land of the Young or the Land of Promise. As the most popular of the

La Légende des Siècles (1859, 1877, 1883) is a collection of poems by Victor Hugo (1802 – 1885), depicting
the history and evolution of humanity by a series of epic poems. Yeats plans a similar attempt for Irish history
and this is his first contribution. Although he writes several more stories on the same topic – including his Cú
Chulainn series – he will later admit that he had not been able to fully realise his ambitions.

The Fenian Cycle is one of four major cycles of Irish mythology. The others are the Mythological Cycle, the
Ulster Cycle – featuring Cú Chulainn – and the Historical Cycle.
mythological Otherworlds, Tír na nÓg is a place of eternal life and therefore resembles the Valhalla of Scandinavian mythology or the Christian representation of Heaven. Since all these sources are well-known among the people as a popular part of their heritage, Yeats successfully constructs the basis for a revival of ancient Ireland.

There are a few parallels that can be drawn between the story and real-life in Yeats' time that allow us to understand the intended effect of the poem better. First of all, there is the main character Oisin. Being a legendary hero, he possesses fearsome strength and relentless courage. With Hutchinson's theory in mind, he is clearly used as a role model for the Irish people here, and his admirable characteristics should be pursued by everyone. Furthermore, he belongs to a notorious group of warriors who are renowned all over the world and into the next. When Oisin finds out his comrades have died during his absence, he praises their bravery that transcends even the Realm of Death:

> “Put the staff in my hands; for I go to the Fenians, O cleric, to chant
> The war-songs that roused them of old; they will rise, making clouds with their breath,
> Innumerable, singing, exultant; the clay underneath them shall pant,
> And demons be broken in pieces, and trampled beneath them in death.
> And demons afraid in their darkness; deep horror of eyes and of wings,
> Afraid, their ears on the earth laid, shall listen and rise up and weep;
> Hearing the shaking of shields and the quiver of stretched bowstrings,
> Hearing Hell loud with a murmur, as shouting and mocking we sweep.”

(“The Poems of W. B. Yeats” 61-2)

What makes these lines and this poem so effective, is the cadence of the rhythm and the repetition of sounds that make these images palpable. Through these lines the Fenians are
resurrected and once again ready to fight. Considering the centuries of domination Ireland has undergone by the time Yeats writes this poem, this is intended as a reminder to the Irish people that their situation has not always been like this and that it can be changed again if they can find the courage and strength to stand up to their oppressor.

The second parallel supports the notion that Ireland's situation has deteriorated under English rule. When Oisin returns to the old world he has left behind, he finds it has completely changed. He mourns the loss of his companions in arms and sees how St. Patrick's Christianity has replaced the old pagan beliefs. This blaming of Christianity for the disappearance of paganism is in Yeats' time not without danger. Religion is a key aspect of the nationalist struggle and the tension between Catholics and Protestants is tangible. However, it is very unlikely that Yeats meant to directly target any of the two Christian divisions. Although he is a Protestant himself, he never meddles in religious quarrels nor does he take a clear stand in the discussion. It is more likely that Yeats stages St. Patrick merely to stay true to the original material. Rather than wanting to invoke a religious debate, he contrasts both worlds in the story to emphasise their differences. In the same way that Oisin compares his original life to the new one, Yeats compares modern to ancient Ireland. He thus effectively links the deplorable state of the story's world to contemporary Ireland, turning Oisin's lament for the loss of his homeland into a nineteenth century elegy.

3.2.3.2 Cathleen ni Houlihan

*Cathleen ni Houlihan* tells the story of an Irish peasant family on the eve of their oldest son Michael's marriage. The family is in good spirits, showing the wedding clothes and discussing how to spend the dowry. When they hear a commotion coming from the town, Patrick, the youngest son, is sent out to find out what is going on. During his absence an old woman approaches the house and is warmly welcomed by the family. She later announces that
she goes by the names of Poor Old Woman, or Cathleen, daughter of Houlihan. She begins to
tell a sad story about how her


;
But it is past:
Come day, come night, day comes at last.

We loosed hand from hand,
We parted face from face;
Each went his way to his own land.
At his own pace,
Each went to fill his separate place.

If we should meet one day,
If both should not forget,
We shall clasp hands the accustomed way,
As when we met
So long ago, as I remember yet.

II

Where my heart is (wherever that may be)
Might I but follow!
If you fly thither over heath and lea,
O honey-seeking bee,
O careless swallow,
Bid some for whom I watch keep watch for me.

Alas! that we must dwell, my heart and I,
So far asunder.
Hours wax to days, and days and days creep by;
I watch with wistful eye,
I wait and wonder:
When will that day draw nigh—that hour draw nigh?

Not yesterday, and not, I think, to-day;
Perhaps to-morrow.
Day after day 'to-morrow' thus I say:
I watched so yesterday
In hope and sorrow,
Again to-day I watch the accustomed way.

Christina Georgina Rossetti
Twist me a crown of wind-flowers;
That I may fly away
To hear the singers at their song,
And players at their play.
Put on your crown of wind-flowers:
But whither would you go?
Beyond the surging of the sea
And the storms that blow.
Alas! your crown of wind-flowers
Can never make you fly:
I twist them in a crown to-day,
And to-night they die.

Christina Georgina Rossetti
Under The Ivy Bush

Under the ivy bush
One sits sighing,
And under the willow tree
One sits crying:
Under the ivy bush
Cease from your sighing,
But under the willow-tree
Lie down a-dying.

Christina Georgina Rossetti
'The iniquity of the fathers upon the children.'

Oh the rose of keenest thorn!
One hidden summer morn
Under the rose I was born.

I do not guess his name
Who wrought my Mother's shame,
And gave me life forlorn,
But my Mother, Mother, Mother,
I know her from all other.
My Mother pale and mild,
Fair as ever was seen,
She was but scarce sixteen,
Little more than a child,
When I was born
To work her scorn.
With secret bitter throes,
In a passion of secret woes,
She bore me under the rose.

One who my Mother nursed
Took me from the first:—
'O nurse, let me look upon
This babe that costs so dear;
To-morrow she will be gone:
Other mothers may keep
Their babes awake and asleep,
But I must not keep her here.'—
Whether I know or guess,
I know this not the less.

So I was sent away
That none might spy the truth:
And my childhood waxed to youth
And I left off childish play.
I never cared to play
With the village boys and girls;
And I think they thought me proud,
I found so little to say
And kept so from the crowd:
But I had the longest curls
And I had the largest eyes
And my teeth were small like pearls;
The girls might flout and scout me,
But the boys would hang about me
In sheepish mooning wise.

Our one-street village stood
A long mile from the town,
A mile of windy down
And bleak one-sided wood,
With not a single house.
Our town itself was small,
With just the common shops,
And throve in its small way.
Our neighbouring gentry reared
The good old-fashioned crops,
And made old-fashioned boasts
Of what John Bull would do
If Frenchman Frog appeared,
And drank old-fashioned toasts,
And made old-fashioned bows
To my Lady at the Hall.

My Lady at the Hall
Is grander than they all:
Hers is the oldest name
In all the neighbourhood;
But the race must die with her
Though she's a lofty dame,
For she's unmarried still.
Poor people say she's good
And has an open hand
As any in the land,
And she's the comforter
Of many sick and sad;
My nurse once said to me
That everything she had
Came of my Lady's bounty:
'Though she's greatest in the county
She's humble to the poor,
No beggar seeks her door
But finds help presently.
I pray both night and day
For her, and you must pray:
But she'll never feel distress
If needy folk can bless.'

I was a little maid
When here we came to live
From somewhere by the sea.
Men spoke a foreign tongue
There where we used to be
When I was merry and young,
Too young to feel afraid;
The fisher folk would give
A kind strange word to me,
There by the foreign sea:
I don't know where it was,
But I remember still
Our cottage on a hill,
And fields of flowering grass
On that fair foreign shore.

I liked my old home best,
But this was pleasant too:
So here we made our nest
And here I grew.
And now and then my Lady
In riding past our door
Would nod to Nurse and speak,
Or stoop and pat my cheek;
And I was always ready
To hold the field-gate wide
For my Lady to go through;
My Lady in her veil
So seldom put aside,
My Lady grave and pale.

I often sat to wonder
Who might my parents be,
For I knew of something under
My simple-seeming state.
Nurse never talked to me
Of mother or of father,
But watched me early and late
With kind suspicious cares:
Or not suspicious, rather
Anxious, as if she knew
Some secret I might gather
And smart for unawares.
Thus I grew.

But Nurse waxed old and grey,
Bent and weak with years.
There came a certain day
That she lay upon her bed
Shaking her palsied head,
With words she gasped to say
Which had to stay unsaid.
Then with a jerking hand
Held out so piteously
She gave a ring to me
Of gold wrought curiously,
A ring which she had worn
Since the day I was born,
She once had said to me:
I slipped it on my finger;
Her eyes were keen to linger
On my hand that slipped it on;
Then she sighed one rattling sigh
And stared on with sightless eye:—
The one who loved me was gone.

How long I stayed alone
With the corpse I never knew,
For I fainted dead as stone:
When I came to life once more
I was down upon the floor,
With neighbours making ado
To bring me back to life.
I heard the sexton's wife
Say: 'Up, my lad, and run
To tell it at the Hall;
She was my Lady's nurse,
And done can't be undone.
I'll watch by this poor lamb.
I guess my Lady's purse
Is always open to such:
I'd run up on my crutch
A cripple as I am,'
(For cramps had vexed her much)
'Rather than this dear heart
Lack one to take her part.'

For days day after day
On my weary bed I lay
Wishing the time would pass;
Oh, so wishing that I was
Likely to pass away:
For the one friend whom I knew
Was dead, I knew no other,
Neither father nor mother;
And I, what should I do?

One day the sexton's wife
Said: 'Rouse yourself, my dear:
My Lady has driven down
From the Hall into the town,
And we think she's coming here.
Cheer up, for life is life.'

But I would not look or speak,
Would not cheer up at all.
My tears were like to fall,
So I turned round to the wall
And hid my hollow cheek
Making as if I slept,
As silent as a stone,
And no one knew I wept.
What was my Lady to me,
The grand lady from the Hall?
She might come, or stay away,
I was sick at heart that day:
The whole world seemed to be
Nothing, just nothing to me,
For aught that I could see.

Yet I listened where I lay:
A bustle came below,
A clear voice said: 'I know;
I will see her first alone,
It may be less of a shock
If she's so weak to-day:'—
A light hand turned the lock,
A light step crossed the floor,
One sat beside my bed:
But never a word she said.

For me, my shyness grew
Each moment more and more:
So I said never a word
And neither looked nor stirred;
I think she must have heard
My heart go pit-a-pat:
Thus I lay, my Lady sat,
More than a mortal hour—
(I counted one and two
By the house-clock while I lay):
I seemed to have no power
To think of a thing to say,
Or do what I ought to do,
Or rouse myself to a choice.

At last she said: 'Margaret,
Won't you even look at me?'
A something in her voice
Forced my tears to fall at last,
Forced sobs from me thick and fast;
Something not of the past,
Yet stirring memory;
A something new, and yet
Not new, too sweet to last,
Which I never can forget.

I turned and stared at her:
Her cheek showed hollow-pale;
Her hair


609, nabob, rupee 1612, gurn, pariah, tyre/tyer 1613, sabib 1627, cot 1634, pundit 1672, bungalow 1676, dungaree 1696, tom-tom 1693, maharaja, pukka, mongoose 1698, jute 1746, shampoo (vb) 1762 and jungle 1776.

The languages of Indo-China, mostly Malay, are the immediate source of a few Early Modern English loans, including bamboo 1598, paddy 1623, cockatoo 1634, orangoutang 1699 and kapok 1750. There are also some words borrowed from Chinese, such as Japan 1577, litchi 1588, ginseng 1654 and ketchup 1711. Japanese loan words include shogun 1615, sake 1687, soy 1696 and mikado 1727.

With the first English colonies in Virginia and New England, direct contacts were established with North America in the early seventeenth century. Besides the rich inheritance of place names, there are a number of words relating to wildlife and the local ways of life that were borrowed from North-American Indian languages, for instance, racoon 1608, opossum 1610, moccasin, persimmon 1612, moose 1613, wigwam 1628, papoose, skunk, tomahawk 1634, hickory 1676, totem 1760 and totem 1760. Direct South-American loans are, by contrast, rare – Inca 1594, jaguar 1604 and jacaranda 1753 are among the few recorded. Much of the lexical influence of South-American Indian languages was mediated through Spanish (see above, 5.4.3.3.3).

5.5 Word-formation

5.5.1 Introduction

Word-formation is concerned with the patterns of language on which new lexemes are formed. It accounts for composites which are analysable both
formally and semantically. Basically they consist of a sequence of a modifying element (determinant) and the element modified (determinatum). Using this distinction, the main EModE word-formation processes can be described in terms of free lexemes or bases and bound affixes as follows (Marchand 1969: 2; Lyons 1977: 521; Quirk et al. 1985: 1520):

1. derivations consisting of an affix and a base:
   a. prefixation adding a prefix (determinant) to the base (determinatum) without a change of word class (hero → anthero (1714); see 5.5.2)
   b. suffixation adding a suffix (determinatum) to the base (determinant), usually with a change of word class (modernize → modernizer (1739); see 5.5.3)

2. compounding adding a base to another (bread + basket → bread-basket (1522), determinant + determinatum; see 5.5.4)

3. conversion (or zero-derivation) assigning the base to a different word class without changing its form (pioneer n. (1523) → pioneer vb (1780); see 5.5.5)

This classification reflects the important typological change in English from stem-formation in Old English to word-formation as we know it today. In the course of the Middle English period invariant free lexemes came to be established as bases for word-formation, and the rich stem allomorphy of OE was largely lost in derivational morphology (see Kastovsky 1985, 1992a). In this respect Early Modern English is already Modern. As far as productive means of affixation are concerned, however, it is expanding. At the end of the period, the set of productive prefixes and suffixes closely resembles the present-day one.

Word-formation processes are best classified in structural terms, i.e. in terms of the word-classes that they apply to and those that they produce. So terms such as denominal and deverbal are used below to refer to lexemes formed from nouns and verbs, respectively. Moderniser is an instance of a deverbal noun, a noun derived from the verb modernise by means of the suffix -er. Prefixes also apply to specific word classes but no word-class change is effected as a result of prefixation. Since prefixes constitute a closed class, the options available at any given time are accounted for by a semantic classification of the productive elements (see 5.5.2).

Foreign influence is reflected in Early Modern English word-formation in a sharp increase of non-native elements as productive affixes. New affixes arise as a sufficient number of borrowed complex lexemes are interpreted as morphologically transparent. This happened to a wealth of Middle English loans, which were integrated into English and analysed as consisting of a base and a separate meaningful affix. The new adoptive affixes had
a profound effect on the composition of the Early Modern English lexicon in that, as the number of affixes multiplied, non-native elements clearly outnumbered the native in terms of both type and token frequency.

As most of these newly adopted affixes were practically limited to foreign – Romance and classical – bases, the effects of their naturalisation can be seen in a quantitative shift towards a non-native basis of coining new words in Early Modern English. This development finally establishes two lexical strata in the English lexicon, with some far-reaching consequences for the phonological and morphological makeup of the language (see Lass, this volume).

According to the information contained in the CED, the share of Germanic bases in new coinages falls from about thirty-two per cent at the beginning of the Early Modern English period to some thirteen per cent at the end. They are outnumbered by French and, since the end of the sixteenth century, Latin bases. It is in fact Latin that is the single most frequent source of new derivations from the mid-seventeenth century onwards. An even more dramatic change is observed in the etymological distributions of affixes. At the beginning of our period, the proportion of native affixes was some eighty per cent of all new derivations, but at the end, a mere thirty per cent (Wermser 1976: 64, 67).

5.5.2 Prefixation

While prefixation was poorly represented in Middle English word-formation, proportionately more new prefixes were introduced into Early Modern English than suffixes. This multiplication of prefixes increased synonymous means of derivation, especially in literary and other technical registers.

We may turn to hybrid forms in order to see how well the new affixes were integrated. The use of Latinate affixes with native bases spread in Early Modern English. This suggests that they were analysable to native speakers and becoming assimilated into the Early Modern English lexicon. It is, however, interesting to note that very few new hybrids of this kind occur in the writings of Elyot, Ascham, Mulcaster, Jonson and other scholars of the time. Most classicists were conservative and preferred homogeneous morphemes. They may be contrasted with more liberal neologisers, who did not hesitate to combine heterogeneous elements.

Garner (1983) compared Shakespeare’s use of twelve Latinate and five native prefixes in hybrid forms with their use in the 1611 Authorised Version of the Bible. The Latin prefixes included were con-, contra-, de-, dis-,
in- (negative), inter-, post-, pre-, pro-, re-, super- and trans-; the native forms were be-, fore-, out-, over- and under-. Garner found that Shakespeare used 101 different hybrid words 178 times altogether. If hybrids with un- are included, the number of hybrid lexemes rises to 400. The Authorised Version contains only seven hybrids used twenty-four times in all; with the prefix un-, the number amounts to forty-one, approximately one tenth of the number found in Shakespeare. None of those appearing in the Bible are new formations, but most of them go back to Middle English, whereas Shakespeare can here be credited with as many as 137 neologisms. The rest of his hybrids are mostly renaissance formations. If un- is excluded from the account, only the following hybrids occur in the Bible: recall, renew, fore-ordain, overcharge, overpast, overplus and overturn; of them, only the forms with re involve a borrowed prefix. By contrast, the sole prefixes with no hybrid forms in Shakespeare are de- and pro-, both still of limited use in Early Modern English. It appears that, even in the Renaissance, hybrids were often controlled by etymological considerations. Hence learned borrowing did not promote maximal integration of the borrowed elements.

Unlike many borrowed suffixes, prefixes do not affect the sound structure of the base, but they may themselves carry either a secondary or primary stress (see further Lass, this volume). As they do not change the word-class of the base, and (some two thirds of the productive prefixes in Early Modern English) are not limited to any one


 fictions of the 1750s’ (Lupton, 2011, p. 292), features the opposite approach to authorial narration, increasing the self-reflexive tendency of the technique to the point of excess. This is done, for one thing, by playfully emphasizing the family resemblances to Fielding’s work. In the introduction, the narrative voice is explicitly marked as imitating Fielding’s style. The narrator

12 The novel has been attributed to Sarah Fielding (who is still listed as the author, for example, in the catalogue of the digital library of the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek), but the critical consensus seems to be that this is a misattribution (see Foster, 2004, p. 62; Moore, 2013, p. 759).
introduces himself as an illegitimate child, ‘the first begotten, of the poetical issue, of the much celebrated Biographer of Joseph Andrews, and Tom Jones’ (CS I, p. 3). The homage to Fielding is furthermore evident both in the highly intrusive authorial commentary and in the novel’s plot: the protagonist, the orphaned Charlotte Summers, is taken in by the benevolent, Allworthy-like Lady Bountiful. Like Tom Jones, Charlotte is forced to leave and to go on an adventurous journey that eventually brings her to London and unsavoury places like a brothel and a debtor’s jail. In the end, both her lost parents reappear, so that (again like Tom Jones) she turns out not to be an orphan after all, and she is allowed to marry the man she loved all along, Lady Bountiful’s son Thomas.

Like the authorial narrator in Fielding’s novels, the narrator of Charlotte Summers throughout the novel comments extensively not only on the characters and events but particularly conspicuously on his narrative technique, which is frequently compared with Fielding’s. He resolves to imitate, for instance, the division into chapters and books, which are prefaced by digressive introductory chapters:

> These were Mr. F—g’s nodding Places for his Readers; for he it seems could not take a Nap, but he was obliged to pump and sweat for laborious Dullness to please them […]; but it was his Misfortune to be a Wit, and consequently out of his natural Element when endeavouring to be really stupid; but for me whose Wit is borrowed and the Effect of Art, and to whom Dullness is natural, there is nothing in Nature more easy to me than to take a sound Nap with my Readers for twenty pages together (CS I, p. 33).

Such playful disparagements of his own abilities are typical of this narrator, who is preoccupied with the question of how the reader will experience and react to the narrative. One main means of exploring this question is to take the trope of the author-reader relationship as face-to-face interaction to an extreme: the narrator not only envisages himself, like Fielding in Tom Jones, as an inn-keeper who provides for his guests (CS I, p. 4) and as the arbitrator of social relationships who brings his readers ‘into the Company’ (CS I, p. 12) of the characters. He also offers a whole scenario in which the READING IS TRAVELLING and the READING IS SOCIAL INTERACTION metaphors are combined and extended:

13 Citations are to the Corbett edition from 1750 (available on ECCO).
Before I introduce my Readers to the Company of Miss Charlotte Summers, I must make them acquainted with some of her Friends [...], for which Purpose, I must beg their Company as far as Carmarthenshire, in Wales. [...] We Authors are always provided with an easy flying Carriage, which can waft our Readers in an Instant [...]: We are Masters of a Kind of Magic, that we have only to speak the Word, and

presto, you are transported [...] to the Place where we would have you attend us. Don’t you find already the magical Effect? The Journey is over, and we are just alighted at the Gate of a stately old Building [...]. You may enter freely, I’ll conduct you to the Parlour, where you may have the Honour to salute the hospitable Owner of this venerable Mansion (CS I, p. 13).

‘Author’ and ‘reader’ are both imagined as acting participants in the fictional world rather than as the producer and recipient of a book. Of course, by explicitly evoking the process of readerly immersion into the fictional world, the narrator disrupts rather than enhances it. Similarly, by insisting on the supernatural powers of the author, the narrator draws attention to the *differences* between actual travel and the reader’s mental travel, the magical use of words to affect time and space, and the writer’s use of words to describe time and space. The outlandish image of the author’s superior power raises the question of his or her actual influence: what kind of impact do narratives actually have on their readers?

In fact, the specific image of the magician is itself already ambivalent with regard to the question of power. He could either be a wizard performing real magic, or an illusionist with a bag of tricks – the word ‘presto’, in particular, suggests a commercial performance rather than a supernatural action. Like the innkeeper who needs to advertise his services and keep his customers happy in order to make a living, the magician could then also be read as a figure representing the dependence of the author on the reader. The reader is somebody to be manipulated, but also to be enticed and convinced (in the rhetorical manoeuvre performed in the passage) – and also somebody who may prove to be beyond the author’s control, and even in turn exerting control on the author. Rather than just asserting a sense of authorial power (however playfully), this passage – like many of the other metadiscursive comments – raises the question of its extent and limits.

This ambivalence with regard to author-reader relations is also evident in a particularly noticeable feature of the novel: its projection of possible reader reactions as concrete situations or interjections (a technique that was subsequently also used, among others, by Laurence Sterne in *Tristram*
Shandy and, a century later, by William Makepeace Thackeray in Vanity Fair):\textsuperscript{14}

I fancy by this Time, my Readers are pretty well acquainted with the Lady Bountiful, and ready to thank me for the Pains I have taken, to introduce them into such valuable company, but I can hear Beau Thoughtless and pretty Miss Pert, whispering to one another, ‘Hang the old Woman, I wish we were done with her, we have seen enough of her, I wish to see the young Wench, there has been so much talk about, whereabout can she be? Sure she’s locked up in the old Lady’s Closet. The Devil take our Conductor, after leading us such a Dance, from London to Carmarthenshire, to keep us so long from what we want to see;’ but I must inform the pretty Triflers, that I am determined my Readers shall learn something in every Chapter, and in this, amongst other Things, they much learn and practice Patience [...]. But that you may not be altogether discourag’d, I must tell you, that I am now going to speak of her [Lady Bountiful’s] Faults; a Subject I am sure you cannot be so soon weary of, as it borders so much on your dearly beloved scandal (CS I, pp. 24-25).

Further reader figures whose reactions are described in detail include Miss Censorious, who is shocked (though also fascinated) by any hints of sexual misconduct, Arabella Dimple, who reads Charlotte Summers in bed and has taken the already-cited commentary about the nap seriously, so that she has to turn back a few pages to understand what is going on in the narrative, and the Widow Lackit, who insists that the novel’s ending include the protagonist’s marriage.

Wayne Booth points out the ridiculous character of ‘this multifarious “reader”, who is always, underneath his various disguises, the same stupid person introduced for the real and unspecified reader to laugh at’ (Booth, 1952, p. 181). Clearly, these reader figures represent expectations towards the novel that are not altogether admirable (though not, I would argue, identical): Thoughtless and Pert want racy entertainment, Miss Censorious wants an affirmation of her hypocritical sense of moral superiority, and the Widow Lackit wants vicarious gratification. The actual reader is certainly not invited to identify with these satirically drawn figures, and by evoking concrete circumstances and even dialogue, the novel makes them appear as a special type of fictional character rather than a stand-in for myself as

\textsuperscript{14} Booth, in fact, sees Charlotte Summers as a missing link between Tom Jones and the more radically self-reflexive Tristram Shandy (see Booth, 1952, p. 181).
I am perusing the text. However, it should be noted that the novel, while making fun of these readers’ attitudes and demands, at the same time caters to them. The way Thoughtless, Pert and Censorious talk about Charlotte, for example, highlights the sexual interest that can be taken in the descriptions of the ‘young wench’, who is, like Richardson’s Pamela and Clarissa, continually exposed to unwanted sexual attention in the novel (and, for example, nearly raped by a man who adopts the same trick as Mr. B. in *Pamela* when he switches places with the heroine’s maid and bedfellow one night). Similarly


 a list of contributors, see page 59.
THE MORAL WARRIOR
Ethics and Service in the U.S. Military
MARTIN L. COOK

For the first time in history, the capabilities of the U.S. military far outstrip those of any potential rival, either singly or collectively, and this reality raises fundamental questions about its role, nature, and conduct. The Moral Warrior explores a wide range of ethical issues regarding the nature and purpose of voluntary military service, the moral meaning of the unique military power of the United States in the contemporary world, and the moral challenges posed by the “war” on terrorism.

“The Moral Warrior is a thoughtful, subtle, and penetrating study of the ethical challenges that military leaders need to meet as they respond to demanding new missions from Kosovo to Iraq. Martin L. Cook is a fine teacher: clear, undogmatic, and compassionate. I hope his views find a wide audience.”
— Michael Ignatieff, Carr Professor of Human Rights Policy at the Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University

“The book reflects the author’s unique personal and academic background: trained in the study of ethics, he chose to teach at one of the nation’s war colleges, where he became deeply familiar with contemporary military issues in a way unavailable to most. This is throughout a highly intelligent, engaging, and accessible book. It adds the important perspective of what it means in moral terms to be a soldier and sets a new standard for what needs to be included in thinking seriously about the United States’ use of military force.”
— James Turner Johnson, author of Morality and Contemporary Warfare

“Martin Cook reflects on the difficult moral choices facing American military and policy planners as they employ the latest technologies to fight a new global war. Cook brings to that reflection not only expertise in philosophy, law, and history, but also a deep appreciation of ground-level, operational detail. He has produced an indispensable resource.”
— Joel H. Rosenthal, President of the Carnegie Council on Ethics and International Affairs

Currently Professor of Philosophy at the United States Air Force Academy, Martin L. Cook spent five years as Professor of Ethics at the United States Army War College.
SUSTAINABILITY AND SPIRITUALITY

JOHN E. CARROLL

FOREWORD BY BILL MCKIBBEN

This groundbreaking book explores the inherent interconnectedness of sustainability and spirituality, acknowledging the dependency of one upon the other. John E. Carroll contends that true ecological sustainability, in contrast to the cosmetic attempts at sustainability we see around us, questions our society's fundamental values and is so countercultural that it is resisted by anyone without a spiritual belief in something deeper than efficiency, technology, or economics. Carroll draws on the work of cultural historian and “geologian” Thomas Berry, whose eco-spiritual thought underlies many of the sustainability efforts of communities described in this book, including particular branches of Catholic religious orders and the loosely organized Sisters of the Earth. The writings of Native Americans on spirituality and ecology are also highlighted. These models for sustainability not only represent the tangible link between ecology and spirituality, but also, more importantly, a vision of what could be.

“Carroll begins his journey looking for examples of environmental sustainability, and I think he has found them—more convincing examples than people who have looked in more obvious and secular places. But along the way he has found something related, and just as important: examples of human sustainability, hints about ways that we might reshape our attitudes as compellingly as our kitchens and gardens and boilers.” — from the Foreword by Bill McKibben

“Carroll clearly addresses a key topic for those interested in the relationship between ecology and ethics, and makes clear that sustainability is not possible without a deep change of values and commitment to a lifestyle. It cannot be achieved simply as an expression of economic functionality nor as an expression of ideology alone.”
— Rosemary Radford Ruether, coeditor of Christianity and Ecology: Seeking the Well-Being of Earth and Humans

John E. Carroll is Professor of Environmental Conservation at the University of New Hampshire. He is the author and editor of many books, including (with coeditor Keith Warner) Ecology and Religion: Scientists Speak.
Interviews with prominent filmmakers, actors, and others on the art, craft, and business of moviemaking.

A volume in the SUNY series, Cultural Studies in Cinema/Video

Wheeler Winston Dixon, editor

320 pp.
Illustrated: 17 b/w photographs
$29.95 pb ISBN 0-7914-6156-4
$86.50 hc ISBN 0-7914-6155-6

July

FILM STUDIES

For a list of contributors, see page 59.

FILM VOICES

Interviews from Post Script
GERALD DUCHOVNAY, EDITOR

This collection of interviews brings together major Hollywood directors and actors, independent filmmakers, screenwriters, and others to discuss the art, craft, and business of making movies. Whether it be Clint Eastwood or Francis Ford Coppola, Vittorio Storaro or Dede Allen, these filmmakers detail how they strive for quality, the price they pay to do so, and how new technologies and the business aspects of filmmaking impact all aspects of their creativity. Taken together, the interviews reveal much about filmmaking practices in and out of Hollywood.

“Instead of adhering to the usual tendencies to valorize prominent Hollywood figures, this book balances ‘mainstream’ directors with ‘independent’ and international voices. And, most innovatively, the book extends the notion of filmmaker beyond directors to include editors, actors, screenwriters, and cinematographers. The interviews provide fascinating insights into each filmmaker’s work and his or her views on filmmaking, and they contain a wealth of information about conditions of production, styles of filmmaking, the selection and use of actors, the filmmakers’ conceptions of editing, the uses of lighting and color, cinematography, and cultural, political, and aesthetic points of view.” — Marcia Landy, author of Italian Film and coeditor of Stars: The Film Reader

The interviewees include Dede Allen, Robert Altman, Jamie Babbit, Don Bluth, Francis Ford Coppola, Robert Downey Sr., Clint Eastwood, Atom Egoyan, Horton Foote, Stephen Frears, Barbara Hammer, Louis Malle, Sydney Pollack, Oliver Stone, Vittorio Storaro, Paul Verhoeven, and James Woods.

Gerald Duchovnay is Professor of English and Head of the Department of Literature and Languages at Texas A&M University at Commerce. He is general editor of the international film journal Post Script: Essays in Film and the Humanities and author of Humphrey Bogart: A Bio-Bibliography.
BASHŌ’S HAIKU
Selected Poems of Matsuo Bashō
MATSUO BASHŌ
Translated and with an Introduction by DAVID LANDIS BARNHILL

Bashō’s Haiku offers the most comprehensive translation yet of the poetry of Japanese writer Matsuo Bashō (1644–1694), who is credited with perfecting and popularizing the haiku form of poetry. One of the most widely read Japanese writers, both within his own country and worldwide, Bashō is especially beloved by those who appreciate nature and those who practice Zen Buddhism. Born into the samurai class, Bashō rejected that world after the death of his master and became a wandering poet and teacher. During his travels across Japan, he became a lay Zen monk and studied history and classical poetry. His poems contained a mystical quality and expressed universal themes through simple images from the natural world.

David Landis Barnhill’s brilliant book strives for literal translations of Bashō’s work, arranged chronologically in order to show Bashō’s development as a writer. Avoiding wordy and explanatory translations, Barnhill captures the brevity and vitality of the original Japanese, letting the images suggest the depth of meaning involved. Barnhill also presents an overview of haiku poetry and analyzes the significance of nature in this literary form, while suggesting the importance of Bashō to contemporary American literature and environmental thought.

“This is a very well-researched translation of Bashō’s poetry that does an outstanding job of presenting this valuable material for those interested in Japanese culture, especially literature and religion. It is a first-rate work that clearly reflects the author’s long and intense devotion and commitment to the topic. It will stand out as unique because of the range of poetry that it covers.”
— Steven Heine, coeditor of Japan in Traditional and Postmodern Perspectives

David Landis Barnhill is Director of Environmental Studies and Professor of English at the University of Wisconsin at Oshkosh. He is the coeditor (with Roger S. Gottlieb) of Deep Ecology and World Religions: New Essays on Sacred Ground, also published by SUNY Press, and the editor of At Home on the Earth: Becoming Native to Our Place: A Multicultural Anthology.
Psychoanalysts have traditionally been expert at uncovering what afflicts and damages people, argues Jeffrey B. Rubin, but by focusing on narcissism and perversions, depression and sadism, psychoanalysis has all too often disregarded what nourishes and sustains us. In *The Good Life*, he demonstrates how psychoanalysis can make a profound contribution to the well-lived life by drawing on a neglected but potent aspect of psychoanalysis—its capacity to illuminate a psychology of health as well as illness. Rubin shows that, at its best, psychoanalysis can highlight both the ingredients of love, ethics, creativity, and spirituality, as well as the obstacles to experiencing them. Exploring the good life from this dual perspective provides an indispensable resource for helping us live with greater meaning and vitality.

“The author has picked areas of basic importance to thread through psychoanalysis and spirituality: love, ethics, and creativity. He discusses important research in each


 makes a being human or inhuman. These two texts rely upon something “other” in order to analyze the fears of humanity, along with their tendencies toward godlessness and loss of humanity. In both cases, the “other” often exhibits more human characteristics than the other characters within the works, thus challenging the reader’s perceptions and expectations regarding what is considered human and what disturbs the title of “monster”.

Shelley’s *Frankenstein* is a classic horror novel, celebrated by some as the first science fiction novel ever written. The idea of a being having been created in a laboratory environment is frightening to the Victorian reader as it is unheard of and considered playing God. Creation is supposed to remain the privilege of an all-powerful Being, not a mere fiddling with chemicals and materials. The idea of a mad scientist mentality is frightening in its simplicity and relatability, for curiosity is a universal human emotion, and the consequences of such are often not as horrible as in this particular instance. In
Victorian society, doubting religion in the favor of science was considered commonplace and yet strictly cerebral. In practice, it was frowned upon and even demonized, thus ensuring a negative reaction to this particular novel (O’Malley 178), for disgust and concern were considered common emotions in relation to the creation of the entity within *Frankenstein*, inciting pity and fear simultaneously and complicating the perception of all characters within the novel. Indeed, the typical Victorian reader would be likely to hold the same opinion as the novel itself in regards to experimentation with such creation: “How dangerous is the acquirement of knowledge and how much happier that man is who believes his native town to be the world, than he who aspires to be greater than his nature will allow” (Shelley 37). This statement in regards to the experiments of the doctor and the subsequent consequences is most poignant, for it looks backward instead of forward within the confines of the novel itself, although it does warn others who may desire to tinker with creation. This warning also improves the reliability of the narrator since hindsight is better informed than anyone within the situation itself, and his experiences throughout his life definitively point to his regret at his scientific experimentation and its consequences.

Additionally, the personality of the created itself varies throughout the novel, thus calling into question the very definition of what makes a being monstrous or human. It is considered a monster by both its creator and the average reader, yet there is quite a bit of ambivalence surrounding whether or not that is due to nature or nurture, for it appears that it is the rejection by Dr. Frankenstein that inspires such violence and terror-inducing actions, instead of a blatantly primal desire to inspire fear and loathing. Indeed, this novel is a testament to the effects of reacting negatively to an individual’s appearance, for over
time it wears down the ability to perceive oneself as anything but a monster. Indeed, the
creature itself appears to be fully aware of this fact: “I do know that for the sympathy of
one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you
can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot
satisfy the one, I will indulge the other” (Shelley 101). This statement of emotion
illustrates this creature’s desire for love and affection, just as any other being desires the
same. It is also incredibly important to witness the self-awareness and sentience of this
created being, an awareness so strong that it could be considered far better than that of its
creator, who knew little enough of himself to cause him to create a creature he was
unable to love and protect after the fact.

This novel has perhaps the most complicated approach to godlessness of the texts
under consideration, for it does include a monstrous creature who wreaks havoc and does
many horrible things, yet the true godlessness lies not in the created, but in the creator. It
is through playing God that humanity loses its morality and descends into godlessness,
thus plunging Dr. Frankenstein into that state. Through playing God and attempting to
create a creature in his own image, Dr. Frankenstein does the exact opposite:

‘Hateful day when I received life!' I exclaimed in agony. 'Accursed creator! Why
did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust? God,
in pity, made man beautiful and alluring, after his own image; but my form is a
filthy type of yours, more horrid even from the very resemblance. Satan had his
companions, fellow-devils, to admire and encourage him; but I am solitary and
abhorred.’ (Shelley 88)
It is an entirely new type of madness to create that which does not wish to be created, for it is clear that the monster wishes he had never been born, as his life has been one rejection after another, spiraling into violence and seclusion. To create merely from a scientific curiosity is utterly inadequate and ultimately harmful to everyone and everything involved. The doctor destroys his life and the life of many others – including the life of his created – by mere curiosity and the hunger for power and knowledge. This is what true godlessness is: dabbling in that which man was never intended to.

The idea of the creature as a monster due to perception instead of complete accuracy is furthered by his ability to appreciate the world into which he came. Indeed, he is far more capable than most of humanity, becoming easily fascinated by the surrounding nature. This is perhaps because the creature considers itself damned and unredeemable, yet perhaps he is merely misunderstood and not given a chance by anyone who encounters him. Its appreciation of the simple joys of life is certainly not matched by the doctor, instead far surpassing him:

Even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he does the beauties of nature. The starry sky, the sea, and every sight afforded by these wonderful regions, seems still to have the power of elevating his soul from earth. Such a man has a double existence: he may suffer misery, and be overwhelmed by disappointments; yet, when he has retired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit that has a halo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures.

(Shelley 192)

This passage in and of itself may be enough to redeem him in a reader’s eye, drawing on pity as opposed to disgust and fear. This detailed account of the thoughts and desires of
this creature touches a chord, for its humanity is apparent and its appreciation of its surroundings obvious. In this manner, it is in conjunction with the finer feelings of humanity and religion, challenging the novel to provide a valid argument for this creature being a monster. Thus, the most terrifying thing within this novel becomes the thought of creating a living thing from that which was merely chemicals or, worse, that which was dead and never intended to live again. The morbidity of the scientific experiments is thrilling, yet utterly godless and therefore unforgiveable, especially due to the consequences, unforeseen or otherwise. Scientific experimentation, although fascinating and encouraged from a medical point of view, would never have been considered a gateway to creation, but instead to prolonging life already given. Dr. Frankenstein’s cursed attempts at creating something other would be shunned in civilized society, thus agreeing with his own fears and attempts at concealment (O’Malley 79). It is therefore Frankenstein himself who ensures that his creature is a monster merely by creating it; he furthers this impression as he himself considers it damned due to its unnatural appearance.

Meyer’s *The Host* deals with a detailed alien species much calmer and more induced to peaceful society than our own, thus bringing the very ethics of the existence of our own species into question and enabling exploration of the depths of human emotion. The fear of loss of humanity is incredibly complex within this novel, for humanity is irrevocably entwined with an alien entity, making the two nearly one and the same. This allows exploration of two different types of psyche, as well as looking at the consequences of complete loss of humanity in such unusual circumstances.
This novel is unique in that it possesses two heroines residing in the same body: an alien dubbed Wanda and the physical host body of Melanie. These two characters have completely different personalities, making characterization complex and complicating the reactions other characters have toward them. Additionally, as Wanda is an alien species attempting to take over and inhabit the planet, there is a great deal of animosity toward her. This anger and fear is indicative of what loss of humanity truly means, and this unfolds throughout the novel. There are times when Wanda, being alien, acts in a far gentler, more humane way than any other character present or aware of the situation. For example, in desperation to understand the ways in which the aliens inhabit the physical bodies of humans, the group with which Wanda and Melanie live often experiments on the bodies of captured alien-infested humans in an attempt to understand the connection. Through their ignorance about the connection between the two species, they wreak havoc instead of acquiring helpful knowledge:

Brighter than these were other silver things. Shimmering segments of silver stretched in twisted, tortured pieces across the table…tiny silver strands plucked and naked and scattered…splatters of silver liquid smeared on the table, the blankets, the walls… The quiet in the room was shattered by my scream. The whole room was shattered. It spun and shook to the sound, whirled around me so that I couldn’t find the way out. The walls, the silver-stained walls, rose up to block my escape no matter which way I turned. (Meyer 547)

This passage is the clearest and rawest instance of Wanda’s humanity, or her sense of morality and


ed neither north nor south,
Neither east nor west,
But sat him down at Megan's feet
As love-bird on his nest,
And wooed her with a silent awe,
With trouble not expressed;
She sang the tears into his eyes,
The heart out of his breast:
So he loved her, listening so.

She sang the heart out of his breast,
The words out of his tongue;
Hand and foot and pulse he paused
Till her song was sung.
Then he spoke up from his place
Simple words and true:
'Scantly goods have I to give,
Scantly skill to woo;

But I have a will to work,
And a heart for you:
Bid me stay or bid me go.'

Then Megan mused within herself:
'Better be first with him,
Than dwell where fairer Margaret sits,
Who shines my brightness dim,
For ever second where she sits,
However fair I be:
I will be lady of his love,
And he shall worship me;
I will be lady of his herds
And stoop to his degree,
At home where kids and fatlings grow.'

Sped a shepherd from the height
Headlong down to look,
(White lambs followed, lured by love
Of their shepherd's crook):
He turned neither east nor west,
Neither north nor south,
But knelt right down to May, for love
Of her sweet-singing mouth;
Forgot his flocks, his panting flocks
In parching hill-side drouth;
Forgot himself for weal or woe.

Trilled her song and swelled her song
With maiden coy caprice
In a labyrinth of throbs,
Pauses, cadences;
Clear-noted as a dropping brook,
Soft-noted like the bees,
Wild-noted as the shivering wind
Forlorn through forest trees:
Love-noted like the wood-pigeon
Who hides herself for love,
Yet cannot keep her secret safe,
But coos and coos thereof:
Thus the notes rang loud or low.

He hung breathless on her breath;
Speechless, who listened well;
Could not speak or think or wish
Till silence broke the spell.
Then he spoke, and spread his hands,
Pointing here and there:
'See my sheep and see the lambs,
Twin lambs which they bare.
All myself I offer you,
All my flocks and care,
Your sweet song hath moved me so.'

In her fluttered heart young May
Mused a dubious while:
'If he loves me as he says'--
Her lips curved with a smile:
'Where Margaret shines like the sun
I shine but like a moon;
If sister Megan makes her choice
I can make mine as soon;
At cockcrow we were sister-maids,
We may be brides at noon.'
Said Megan, 'Yes;' May said not 'No.'

Fair Margaret stayed alone at home,
Awhile she sang her song,
Awhile sat silent, then she thought:
'My sisters loiter long.'

That sultry noon had waned away,
Shadows had waxen great:
'Surely,' she thought within herself,
'My sisters loiter late.'

She rose, and peered out at the door,
With patient heart to wait,
And heard a distant nightingale
Complaining of its mate;

Then down the garden slope she walked,
Down to the garden gate,
Leaned on the rail and waited so.

The slope was lightened by her eyes
Like summer lightning fair,
Like rising of the haloed moon
Lightened her glimmering hair,

While her face lightened like the sun
Whose dawn is rosy white.
Thus crowned with maiden majesty
She peered into the night,

Looked up the hill and down the hill,
To left hand and to right,
Flashing like fire-flies to and fro.

Waiting thus in weariness
She marked the nightingale
Telling, if any one would heed,
Its old complaining tale.

Then lifted she her voice and sang,
Answering the bird:
Then lifted she her voice and sang,
Such notes were never heard

From any bird when Spring's in blow.

The king of all that country
Coursing far, coursing near,
Curbed his amber-bitted steed,
Coursed amain to hear;
All his princes in his train,
Squire, and knight, and peer,
With his crown upon his head,
His sceptre in his hand,
Down he fell at Margaret's knees
Lord king of all that land,
To her highness bending low.

Every beast and bird and fish
Came mustering to the sound,
Every man and every maid
From miles of country round:
Megan on her herdsman's arm,
With her shepherd May,
Flocks and herds trooped at their heels
Along the hill-side way;
No foot too feeble for the ascent,
Not any head too grey;
Some were swift and none were slow.

So Margaret sang her sisters home
In their marriage mirth;
Sang free birds out of the sky,
Beasts along the earth,
Sang up fishes of the deep--
All breathing things that move
Sang from far and sang from near
To her lovely love;
Sang together friend and foe;

Sang a golden-bearded king
Straightway to her feet,
Sang him silent where he knelt
In eager anguish sweet.
But when the clear voice died away,
When longest echoes died,
He stood up like a royal man
And claimed her for his bride.
So three maids were wooed and won
In a brief May-tide,
Long ago and long ago.

Christina Georgina Rossetti
Margaret Has A Milking-Pail

Margaret has a milking-pail,
And she rises early;
Thomas has a threshing-flail,
And he’s up betimes.
Sometimes crossing through the grass
Where the dew lies pearly,
They say ‘Good morrow’ as they pass
By the leafy limes.

Christina Georgina Rossetti
MARVEL of marvels, if I myself shall behold
With mine own eyes my King in His city of gold;
Where the least of lambs is spotless white in the fold,
Where the least and last of saints in spotless white is stoled,
Where the dimmest head beyond a moon is aureoled.
O saints, my beloved, now mouldering to mould in the mould,
Shall I see you lift your heads, see your cerements unroll'd,
See with these very eyes? who now in darkness and cold
Tremble for the midnight cry, the rapture, the tale untold,—
The Bridegroom cometh, cometh, His Bride to enfold!

Cold it is, my beloved, since your funeral bell was toll'd:
Cold it is, O my King, how cold alone on the wold!

Christina Georgina Rossetti
Maude Clare

Out of the church she followed them
With a lofty step and mien:
His bride was like a village maid,
Maude Clare was like a queen.

“Son Thomas, ” his lady mother said,
With smiles, almost with tears:
“May Nell and you but live as true
As we have done for years;

“Your father thirty years ago
Had just your tale to tell;
But he was not so pale as you,
Nor I so pale as Nell.”

My lord was pale with inward strife,
And Nell was pale with pride;
My lord gazed long on pale Maude Clare
Or ever he kissed the bride.

“Lo, I have brought my gift, my lord,
Have brought my gift, ” she said:
To bless the hearth, to bless the board,
To bless the marriage-bed.

“Here’s my half of the golden chain
You wore about your neck,
That day we waded ankle-deep
For lilies in the beck:

“Here’s my half of the faded leaves
We plucked from the budding bough,
With feet amongst the lily leaves, -
The lilies are budding now.”

He strove to match her scorn with scorn,
He faltered in his place:
“Lady, ” he said, - “Maude Clare, ” he said, -
“Maude Clare, ” – and hid his face.
She turn’d to Nell: “My Lady Nell,
I have a gift for you;
Though, were it fruit, the blooms were gone,
Or, were it flowers, the dew.

“Take my share of a fickle heart,
Mine of a paltry love:
Take it or leave it as you will,
I wash my hands thereof.”

“And what you leave, ” said Nell, “I’ll take,
And what you spurn, I’ll wear;
For he’s my lord for better and worse,
And him I love Maude Clare.

“Yea, though you’re taller by the head,
More wise and much more fair:
I’ll love him till he loves me best,
Me best of all Maude Clare.

Christina Georgina Rossetti
May

I cannot tell you how it was,
But this I know: it came to pass
Upon a bright and sunny day
When May was young; ah, pleasant May!
As yet the poppies were not born
Between the blades of tender corn;
The last egg had not hatched as yet,
Nor any bird foregone its mate.

I cannot tell you what it was,
But this I know: it did but pass.
It passed away with sunny May,
Like all sweet things it passed away,
And left me old, and cold, and gray.

Christina Georgina Rossetti
Memory

I

I nursed it in my bos


 in our memories. It was one of his odd habits at the family table. If there was something that Tom wanted which happened to be out of his reach he never bothered to ask for it. He would simply stand up in his place at the table, reach across the table and spear it with his fork. If it happened to be fat meat, it might
drip all the way across to his plate. But it did not seem so bad in those days, for most women used oil-cloth instead of table cloths.

Tom would do the same thing at anybody's house when he would be there helping to thrash or raise a barn. We thought it was funny and we children used to mock him when the old folks were away and nobody was looking. "Tommin'" we called it. And I never to this day see anybody make a long reach at the table without thinking of Old "By Goll" Tom Darbyshire.

Then there was John Conklin, bellwether of the Baptist church. John always raised all the money to pay the preacher and served as Sunday School superintendent for forty years. He always talked very proper, and always ate with napkins, glass goblets and pearl-handled knives and forks on the table. When his boys grew older they persuaded him to change the spelling to Conkling because they thought it looked more impressive that way.

One thing gave John a strange appearance, and came from his habit of always wiping his mustache the same way, from left to right. In time it got to growing that way. Generally a mustache parts in the middle and sprangles off evenly both ways. But John's mustache all headed toward his right ear. We got used to it of course, and John would have looked queer to us any other way. They were fine folks, of course, but there was a general feeling that maybe they thought themselves a little above common folks.

John Tucker was our neighborhood mystery man.
Mystery surrounded his whole family, for nobody was ever able to get acquainted with any of them. The Tuckers never mixed with the rest of us to any great extent. Neighborhood gossips whispered that Tucker was a bootlegger and the Funk boys, his immediate neighbors on the west, always claimed he acted like a detective. A good many people were afraid that some day Tucker would break loose and harm someone.

Once our folks saw him digging a hole in his field along a line fence. This started the rumor that he might have murdered someone and was disposing of the body. Late that night several neighbors gathered, went to the spot and dug into the fresh dirt, but they couldn’t find a trace of anything suspicious. That only deepened the mystery!

Pete Funk was another mysterious figure. As far back as I can remember he had been kept locked up in his bedroom, because of insanity. All of us youngsters were afraid Pete might get loose and catch us. Whenever we saw a man walking alone through the fields we ran for home, fearing that it was Funk.

Pete had three boys, Pete, Henry and Lou. They were good, honest and hard working German boys, but they had an odd manner of using their breath as they talked. Ordinarily people talk with just the breath that is going out, but the Funk boys used it both ways — perhaps to save it, maybe.

Henry once told of a hunting exploit when he fired a shot that killed a brant and two or three ducks. "The other boys shot and shot," he said, "but they didn’t
kill anything. I shot and killed a brant and two ducks.” Up to the word brant he spoke normally, using the outgoing breath, but he finished the sentence from there on while inhaling. Try that yourself and see how funny it sounds. One of our steady sources of amusement was to engage the Funk boys in conversation to watch them do double duty with their breath.

We had two men in our school district by the name of Oberman. Both were John Oberman and heads of families. True to country form we invented means of telling them apart. One we called “High John” Oberman because he claimed to be high German and the other we called “Dried-Up Johnny” Oberman because he was so little and skinny. High John was an educated German who had escaped from the Fatherland in disguise and we confidently waited for the time when he would be hauled back for service in the German army. His sober countenance and his fine manners put him pretty high. He could have been elected to any office up to Justice of the Peace, I imagine. But he never seemed to have any hankering for public office.

Dried-Up Johnny raised his family on a rough and hilly farm at the edge of the tall timber. They were pretty poor and their children sometimes came to school with pretty slim lunches. But Dried-Up Johnny had a way of curing meat that made it taste wonderful. I can recall to this day the smell of that dried meat the kids sometimes brought to school. Then sometimes we would trade our common fodder for a bite of that dried meat. Oh, but it was good! We could taste it for hours
and we learned not to take a drink of water for the rest of the day, just so we could keep that good taste.

Over behind our fields in a clapboard shanty lived an interesting family by the name of Perkins. We never heard the old man's Christian name, he was just called Perkins. He had a fat, soft and shabby appearing wife and several scarecrow-like children. They were a shiftless lot with too great a fondness for hunting and fishing ever to amount to much. They always had three or four dogs, a couple of old guns, an old grey mare, a one-horse democrat and several stands of bees— that was about all. The old man used to hire out for wages at harvest and corn picking time for a few dollars to live on. Just how they managed to get along nobody knew.

Old man Perkins had a habit of disappearing for sometimes as long as ten days or two weeks, but his family seemed to get used to it and never worried about it. His children never seemed to care very much for him, maybe because he was always bearded, ragged, lazy and shiftless.

Once he tried to find out from his son Jeff how he stood in comparison with a dog they owned.

"Jeff," he asked, "If I should take Watch and go away off, and be gone for a considerable spell, which would you be lonesomest for, me or Watch?"

"I'd druther see Watch," said Jeff.

One winter night there was a loud knocking at our front door. Pap, who was always a light sleeper, jumped out of bed to see who was there at that time of night.
We heard him say, "Why hello, Jeff, what in blazes you doin' here this time of night?" Jeff replied that he had come to borrow a saw.

"Borrow a saw!" said Pap in great surprise. "What in the world do you need of a saw in the middle of the night?" Jeff stammered that they wanted it to cut the hatchway bigger, that the old man was caught tight in it and they couldn't get him down.

By this time we boys had our duds on and were ready for an adventure. Pap got the saw and we hurried across the field to the Perkins shanty. A dim tallow candle shone through the front window as we approached.

"What's up?" Pap asked of Mrs. Perkins when she opened the rickety door.

"We found Pa dead in the loft," the old lady replied, "and we been tryin' to get him down. He's been gone ten days I reckon, but we didn't think nothing of that, he bein' gone that way a lot. But yisteday I snifted something not jest right in the house, and tonight it got so bad I sent Jeff up into the loft to see what he could find out. And there lay Pa as dead as a mackerel."

"Well, well, well," Pap said, and then the old lady went on: "So the boys commenced right away to git him down, and did git him part way through the hatchhole, but he was puffed up some, you see, and one arm kinder ketched back someway, and he stuck tight right where he is now."

It was a mess. Pap climbed up on a stool and sawed several boards off, and we all got hold and hefted
the old man to the floor. There was no such thing as an undertaker in those days, so Pap laid out the corpse on some boards laid across a couple of chairs. Then he offered to take the old lady and the children home with him for the night. It was arranged that two of us boys were to stay at the Perkins’ cabin to watch the corpse. So the old lady washed out a pair of woolen socks and hung them before the fireplace to dry and asked us to slip them on Pa when they got dry.

It was kinda creepy sitting away over there back of the fields, off the main road, in the flicker of a tallow candle in the middle of the night and with a dead man for company. But we never blinked and sleep was the farthest from our minds. We kept pretty still somehow – stiller than you would think boys could be. After quite a spell of that we got an idea. Frank suggested that we might as well put the old man’s socks on now. Being dead he wouldn’t catch cold and what was the difference. I agreed that I could see no difference so we got the wet socks and commenced to put them on.

Now anybody who has tried to put wet socks on knows that they go on hard. We pulled and tugged and finally upset the contraption he was laid on and his body plumped right down on the floor. After