Now, which shall I begin with?
I think I'll try The Raven.

But first it may be well to practise an appropriate little speech.

Something like this:"-- Fletcher made a low bow to the assembled trees, cleared his throat, and commenced,-- "Ladies and Gentlemen: It gives me great pleasure to appear before you this evening, in compliance with the request of the committee, who have thought that my humble efforts would give _eclat_ to the fair.

I am not a professional reader, but I have ever found pleasure in reciting the noble productions of our best authors, and I hope to give you pleasure." "That'll do, I think," said Fletcher, complacently.

"Now I'll try The Raven." In a deep, sepulchral tone, Fletcher read the first verse, which is quoted below:-- "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
''Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door-- Only this and nothing more.'" Was it fancy, or did Fletcher really hear a slow, measured tapping near him--upon one of the trees, as it seemed?
He started, and looked nervously; but the noise stopped, and he decided that he had been deceived, since no one was visible.
The boys within the tree made no other demonstration till Fletcher had read the following verse:-- "Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before.
'Surely,' said I, 'surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see then what thereat is, and this mystery explore-- Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore; 'Tis the wind, and nothing more.'" Here an indescribable, unearthly noise was heard from the interior of the tree, like the wailing of some discontented ghost.
"Good heavens! what's that ?" ejaculated Fletcher, turning pale, and looking nervously around him.
It was growing late, and the branches above him, partially stripped of their leaves, rustled in the wind.