CHAPTER VII : PLANNING THE SPEECH
Selecting Material. It can be assumed, by the time you have reached
this point in the study and practice of making speeches, that you have
words to express your thoughts and some fair skill of delivery, that
you know something about preparing various kinds of introductions and
conclusions, that you know how your own mind operates in retaining new
information, and that you know how to secure material for various
purposes. Either clearly assimilated in your brain or accurately noted
upon paper you have all the ideas that are to appear in your speech.
The Length of the Speech. Look over this material again. Consider it
carefully in your thoughts, mentally deciding how long a time or how
many words you will devote to each topic or entry. Can you from such a
practical consideration determine how long in time your speech will
be? Are you limited by requirements to a short time as were the Four
Minute Speakers? Have you been allotted a half hour? Will you hold
your audience longer?
These may appear simple things, but they cover the first essential of
planning any speech. It should be just the correct length--neither too
long nor too short. Many beginners--timid, hesitant, untrained--will
frequently fill too short a time, so that they must drill themselves
into planning longer productions. On the other hand, it may be stated,
as a general criticism, that many speakers talk too long.
A United States Senator, in order to block the vote on a bill he was
opposing, decided to speak until Congress had to adjourn, so he
deliberately planned to cover a long time. He spoke for some
twenty-two hours. Of course he did not say much, nor did he talk
continuously; to get rests, he requested the clerk to call the roll,
and while the list was being marked, he ate and drank enough to
sustain him. Technically his speech was uninterrupted, for he still
had the floor. Though we may not approve of such methods of
legislative procedure we must see that for this speech the first
element of its plan was its length.
Keep this consideration of time always in mind. Speakers always ask
how long they are to speak, or they stipulate how much time they
require. Legislative bodies frequently have limiting rules. Courts
sometimes allow lawyers so much time. A minister must fit his sermon
to the length of the service. A business man must not waste his
hearers' time. A lecturer must not tire his audience. In Congress
members must be given chances to eat. In Parliament, which meets in
the evening, men grow anxious for bed.
Making the Speech too Long. The rule is fundamental, yet it is
violated continually. I have known of instances when four men, asked
to present material in a meeting announced months in advance as
lasting two hours, have totally disregarded this fact, and prepared
enough material to consume over an hour each. In such cases the
presiding officer should state to each that he will be allowed exactly
thirty minutes and no more. He may tap on the table after twenty-five
have elapsed to warn the speaker to pass to his conclusion, and at the
expiration of the time make him bring his remarks to a close and give
way to the next speaker. There is no unfairness in this. The real
offense is committed by the speaker who proves himself so
inconsiderate, so discourteous of the conditions that he places
himself in such an embarrassing circumstance. He deserves only justice
tempered by no mercy. I have heard the first of two speakers who were
to fill an hour of a commemorative service in a church talk on for an
hour and ten minutes, boring the congregation to fidgety restlessness
and completely preventing the second speaker--the more important--from
delivering a single word.
Mark Twain tells how he went to church one hot night to hear a city
mission worker describe his experiences among the poor people of the
crowded districts who, though they needed help, were too modest or
proud to ask for it. The speaker told of the suffering and bravery he
found. Then he pointed out that the best gifts to charity are not the
advertised bounties of the wealthy but the small donations of the less
fortunate. His appeals worked Mark Twain up to great enthusiasm and
generosity. He was ready to give all he had with him--four hundred
dollars--and borrow more. The entire congregation wanted to offer all
it had. But the missionary kept on talking. The audience began to
notice the heat. It became hotter and hotter. They grew more and more
uncomfortable. Mark's generosity began to shrink. It dwindled to less
and less as the speech lengthened until when the plate did finally
reach him, he stole ten cents from it. He adds that this simply proves
how a little thing like a long-winded speech can induce crime.
Plan your speech so that it will be the proper length.
Discarding Material. This first consideration very likely indicates to
you that you have much more material than you can use in the time
allowed or assigned you. You must discard some. Strange as it may
seem, this is one of the must difficult directions to carry out. It
seems such a waste of time and material to select for actual
presentation so small a part of all you have carefully gathered. There
is always the temptation to "get it all in somehow." Yet the direction
must remain inflexible. You can use only part of it. You must
carefully select what will serve your purpose. What is the purpose of
your speech? What is the character of your audience? These two things
will determine to a large extent, what and how much you must
relinquish. Your finished speech will be all the better for the
weeding-out process. Better still, in all your preliminary steps for
subsequent speeches you will become skilful in selecting while you are
gathering the material itself. Finally you will become so practised
that you will not burden yourself with waste, although you will always
secure enough to supply you with a reserve supply for assurance and
emergency.
Relation of Material to the Purpose of the Speech. A few examples will
show the wide application of this principle. A boy who has explained
to his father the scholarship rules of his school concerning athletes
will discard a great deal of that material when he addresses a student
gathering. A speaker on child labor in a state where women have voted
for a long time will discard much of the material presented in a
neighboring state where general franchise has just been granted. If in
a series of remarks you want to emphasize the thrilling experience you
have had with a large fish which jerked you out of a boat, you would
not include such material as the trip on the train to the lake where
you had your adventure. Why not?
These are humble instances, but the principle of selection is the same
for all speeches.
A man who was asked to lecture on Mark Twain knew the contents of the
thirty published volumes written by him, all the biographies,
practically every article written about him; he had conversed with
people who had known him; he had visited scenes of his life; yet when
he planned to talk for an hour he had to reject everything except two
striking periods of his life with their effects upon his writing.
Burke, in one great effort, declared he had no intention of dealing
with the _right_ of taxation; he confined himself merely to the
_expediency_ of Great Britain's revenue laws for America. Other great
speakers have--in their finished speeches--just as clearly indicated
the plans they have decided to follow. Such definite announcements
determine the material of many introductions.
My task will be divided under three different heads: first,
The Crime Against Kansas, in its origin and extent; secondly,
The Apologies for the Crime; and, thirdly, The True Remedy.
CHARLES SUMNER: _The Crime against Kansas_, 1856
Mr. President and Fellow Citizens of New York:
The facts with which I shall deal this evening are mainly old
and familiar; nor is there anything new in the general use I
shall make of them. If there shall be any novelty, it will be
in the mode of presenting the facts, and the inferences and
observations following that presentation. In his speech last
autumn at Columbus, Ohio, as reported in the _New York
Times_, Senator Douglas said: "Our fathers, when they framed
the government under which we live, understood this question
just as well, and even better, than we do now."
I fully indorse this, and I adopt it as a text for this
discourse. I so adopt it because it furnishes a precise and
an agreed starting-point for a discussion between Republicans
and that wing of the Democracy headed by Senator Douglas. It
simply leaves the inquiry: What was the understanding those
fathers had of the question mentioned?
ABRAHAM LINCOLN: _Cooper Union Speech_, 1860
Indicating the Plan in the Speech. In some finished and long speeches
parts of the plan are distributed to mark the divisions in the
progress of the development. The next quotation shows such an
insertion.
And now sir, against all these theories and opinions, I
maintain--
1. That the Constitution of the United States is not a
league, confederacy, or compact between the people of the
several States in their sovereign capacities; but a
government proper, founded on the adoption of the people, and
creating direct relations between itself and individuals.
2. That no State authority has power to dissolve these
relations; that nothing can dissolve them but revolution; and
that, consequently, there can be no such thing as secession
without revolution.
3. That there is a supreme law, consisting of the
Constitution of the United States, and acts of Congress
passed in pursuance of it, and treaties; and that, in cases
not capable of assuming the character of a suit in law or
equity, Congress must judge of, and finally interpret, this
supreme law so often as it has occasion to pass acts of
legislation; and in cases capable of assuming, and actually
assuming, the character of a suit, the Supreme Court of the
United States is the final interpreter.
4. That an attempt by a State to abrogate, annul, or nullify
an act of Congress, or to arrest its operation within her
limits, on the ground that, in her opinion, such law is
unconstitutional, is a direct usurpation on the just powers
of the general Government, and on the equal rights of other
States; a plain violation of the Constitution, a proceeding
essentially revolutionary in its character and tendency.
DANIEL WEBSTER: _The Constitution Not a Compact
between Sovereign States_, 1833
Such a statement to the audience is especially helpful when the
speaker is dealing with technical subjects, or material with which
most people are not usually and widely conversant. Scientific
considerations always become clearer when such plans are simply
constructed, clearly announced, and plainly followed.
So far as I know, there are only three hypotheses which ever
have been entertained, or which well can be entertained,
respecting the past history of Nature. I will, in the first
place, state the hypotheses, and then I will consider what
evidence bearing upon them is in our possession, and by what
light of criticism that evidence is to be interpreted. Upon
the first hypothesis, the assumption is, that phenomena of
Nature similar to those exhibited by the present world have
always existed; in other words, that the universe has existed
from all eternity in what may be broadly termed its present
condition.
The second hypothesis is, that the present state of things
has had only a limited duration; and that, at some period in
the past, a condition of the world, essentially similar to
that which we now know, came into existence, without any
precedent condition from which it could have naturally
proceeded. The assumption that successive states of Nature
have arisen, each without any relation of natural causation
to an antecedent state, is a mere modification of this second
hypothesis.
The third hypothesis also assumes that the present state of
things has had but a limited duration; but it supposes that
this state has been evolved by a natural process from an
antecedent state, and that from another, and so on; and, on
this hypothesis, the attempt to assign any limit to the
series of past changes is, usually, given up.
THOMAS H. HUXLEY: _Lectures on Evolution_, 1876
EXERCISES
1. According to what methods are the foregoing plans arranged? Which
division in Sumner's speech was the most important? Was he trying to
get his listeners to do anything? What do you think that object was?
2. In Lincoln's speech do you think he planned the material
chronologically? Historically? What reasons have you for your answer?
3. Which of Webster's four parts is the most important? Give reasons
for your answer.
4. Which hypothesis (what does the word mean?) did Huxley himself
support? What induces you to think thus? Is this plan in any respect
like Sumner's? Explain your answer.
5. Make a list of the ways in which material of speeches may be
arranged.
Arrangement. Importance. If you have several topics to cover in a
single speech where would you put the most important? First or last?
Write upon a piece of paper the position you choose. You have given
this plan some thought so you doubtlessly put down the correct
position. What did you write? First? That is usually the answer of
nine pupils out of every ten. Are you with the majority? If you wrote
that the most important topic should be treated first, you are wrong.
The speech would be badly planned. Think for a moment. Which should be
the most important part of a story or a play? The beginning or the
ending? If it is the early part, why should any one read on to the end
or stay for the curtain to come down the last time? So in speeches the
importance of topics should always increase as the speech proceeds.
This, then, is a principle of planning. Arrange your topics in an
ascending order of importance. Work up to what is called the climax.
The list you made in response to direction 5 given above should now be
presented to the class and its contents discussed. What kind of
material is likely to be arranged according to each of your
principles? You have put down the chronological order, or the order of
time, or some similar phrase. Just what do you mean by that? Do you
mean, begin with the earliest material and follow in chronological
order down to the latest? Could the reverse order ever be used? Can
you cite some instance? Is contrast a good order to follow in
planning? Cite material which could be so arranged. Would an
arrangement from cause to effect be somewhat like one based on time?
Explain your answer. Under what circumstances do you think the
opposite might be used--from effect to cause?
While there are almost countless methods of arrangements--for any one
used in one part of a speech may be combined with any other in some
different portion--the plan should always be determined by three
fundamental matters; the material itself, the audience to which it is
to be presented, and the effect the speaker wants to produce.
Even during this preliminary planning of the speech the author must be
careful that when his arrangement is decided upon it possesses the
three qualities necessary to every good composition. These three are
unity, coherence, and emphasis.
Unity. Unity explains itself. A speech must be about one single thing.
A good speech produces one result. It induces action upon one single
point. It allows no turning aside from its main theme. It does not
stray from the straight and narrow road to pick flowers in the
adjacent fields, no matter how enticing the temptation to loiter may
be. In plain terms it does not admit as part of its material anything
not closely and plainly connected with it. It does not step aside for
everything that crops into the speaker's mind. It advances steadily,
even when not rapidly. It does not "back water." It goes somewhere.
To preserve unity of impression a speaker must ruthlessly discard all
material except that which is closely associated with his central
intention. He must use only that which contributes to his purpose. The
same temptation to keep unrelated material--if it be good in
itself--will be felt now as when the other unsuitable material was set
aside.
This does not prevent variety and relief. Illustrative and interesting
minor sections may be, at times must be, introduced. But even by their
vividness and attractiveness they must help the speech, not hinder it.
The decorations and ornaments must never be allowed to detract from
the utility of the composition.
Unity may be damaged by admitting parts not in the direct line of the
theme. It may be violated by letting minor portions become too long.
The illustration may grow so large by the introduction of needless
details that it makes the listeners forget the point it was designed
to enforce. Or it may be so far-fetched as to bear no real relation to
the thread of development. Here lies the pitfall of the overworked
"funny," story, introduced by "that reminds me." Too often it is not
humorous enough to justify repetition; or--what is worse--it does not
fit into the circumstances. Another fault of many speakers is
over-elaboration of expression, not only for non-essentials, but in
the important passages as well. Involved language demands explanation.
The attempts to clear up what should have been simply said at first
may lead a speaker to devote too many words to a single point.
This matter of unity must not be misunderstood as prohibiting the
inclusion of more than one topic in a speech. A legislator in urging
the repeal of a law might have several topics, such as how the law was
passed, its first operations, its increasing burdens upon people, the
disappearance of the necessity for it, better methods of securing the
same or better results, etc., yet all grouped about the motivating
theme of securing the repeal of the law. To emphasize the greatness of
a man's career a speaker might introduce such topics as his obscure
origin, his unmarked youth, the spur that stimulated his ambition, his
early reverses, provided that they contribute to the impression
intended, to make vivid his real achievements.
In early attempts at delivering speeches don't be afraid to pause at
certain places to consider whether what you are about to say really
contributes to the unity or destroys it. Aside from helping you to
think upon your feet, this mental exercise will help your speech by
making you pause at times--a feature of speaking often entirely
disregarded by many persons.
Coherence. The second quality a finished composition should have is
coherence. If you know what _cohere_ and _cohesion_ mean (perhaps you
have met these words in science study) you have the germ of the term's
meaning. It means "stick-together-itive-ness." The parts of a speech
should be so interrelated that every part leads up to all that
follows. Likewise every part develops naturally from all that goes
before, as well as what immediately precedes. There must be a
continuity running straight through the material from start to finish.
Parts should be placed where they fit best. Each portion should be so
placed--at least, in thought--that all before leads naturally and
consistently up to it, and it carries on the thread to whatever
follows. This prevents rude breaks in the development of thought.
Skilfully done, it aids the hearer to remember, because so easily did
the thought in the speech move from one point to another, that he can
carry the line of its progression with him long after. So the
attainment of coherence in a speech contributes directly to that
desired end--a deep impression.
Incoherent speeches are so mainly because of absence of plan, whether
they be short or long, conversational or formal.
Emphasis. The third quality a speech should have is emphasis. Applied
to a connected sequence of words this means that what is of most
importance shall stand out most forcefully; that what is not so
important shall show its subordinate relation by its position, its
connection with what goes before and after; that what is least
important shall receive no emphasis beyond its just due. Such
manipulation requires planning and rearranging, careful weighing of
the relative importance of all portions. Recall what was said of the
place of the most important part.
Throughout the speech there must also be variety of emphasis. It would
not be fitting to have everything with a forceful emphasis upon it. To
secure variation in emphasis you must remember that in speeches the
best effects will be made upon audiences by offering them slight
relief from too close attention or too impressive effects. If you
observe the plans finally followed by good speakers you will be able
to see that they have obeyed this suggestion. They have the power to
do what is described as "swaying the audience." In its simplest form
this depends upon varying the emphasis.
In making an appeal for funds for destitute portions of Europe a
telling topic would surely be the sufferings of the needy. Would it be
wise to dwell upon such horrors only? Would a humorous anecdote of the
happy gratitude of a child for a cast-off toy be good to produce
emphasis? Which would make the most emphatic ending--the absolute
destitution, the amount to be supplied, the relief afforded, or the
happiness to donors for sharing in such a worthy charity? You can see
how a mere mental planning, or a shuffling of notes, or a temporary
numbering of topics will help in clearing up this problem of how to
secure proper and effective emphasis.
Making the First Plan. It would be a helpful thing at this point in
the planning to make a pencil list of the topics to be included. This
is not a final outline but a mere series of jottings to be changed,
discarded, and replaced as the author considers his material and his
speech. It is hardly more than an informal list, a scrap of paper. In
working with it, don't be too careful of appearances. Erase, cross
out, interline, write in margins, draw lines and arrows to carry
portions from one place to another, crowd in at one place, remove from
another, cut the paper sheets, paste in new parts, or pin slips
together. Manipulate your material. Mold it to suit your purposes.
Make it follow your plan. By this you will secure a good plan. If
this seems a great deal to do, compare it with the time and energy
required to learn how to swim, how to play a musical instrument, how
to "shoot" in basketball, how to act a part in a play.
Knowing how to speak well is worth the effort. Every time you plan a
speech these steps will merge into a continuous process while you are
gathering the material. In informal discussion upon topics you are
familiar with, you will become able to arrange a plan while you are
rising to your feet.
Transitions. As this preliminary plan takes its form under your
careful consideration of the material you will decide that there are
places between topics or sections which will require bridging over in
order to attain coherence and emphasis. These places of division
should be filled by transitions. A transition is a passage which
carries over the meaning from what precedes to what follows. It serves
as a connecting link. It prevents the material from falling apart. It
preserves the continuity of ideas. A transition may be as short as a
single word, such as _however_, _consequently_, _nevertheless_. It may
be a sentence. It may grow into a paragraph.
The purpose of transitions--to link parts together--may induce
beginners to consider them as of little importance since they
manifestly add no new ideas to the theme. This opinion is entirely
erroneous. Even in material for reading, transitions are necessary. In
material to be received through the ear they are the most valuable
helps that can be supplied to have the listener follow the
development. They mark the divisions for him. They show that a
certain section is completed and a new one is about to begin. They
show the relation in meaning of two portions.
The shorter forms of transitions--words and phrases--belong rather to
the expression, the language, of the speech than to this preliminary
planning.
A speaker should never fail to use such phrases as _on the other
hand_, _continuing the same line of reasoning_, _passing to the next
point_, _from a different point of view_, because they so clearly
indicate the relation of two succeeding passages of a speech.
In planning, the speaker frequently has to consider the insertion of
longer transitions--paragraphs or even more extended passages. Just
how such links appear in finished speeches the following extracts
show. In the first selection Washington when he planned his material
realized he had reached a place where he could conclude. He wanted to
add more. What reason should he offer his audience for violating the
principle discussed in the chapter on conclusions? How could he make
clear to them his desire to continue? We cannot assert that he
actually did this, but he might have jotted down upon the paper
bearing a first scheme of his remarks the phrase, "my solicitude for
the people." That, then, was the germ of his transition paragraph.
Notice how clearly the meaning is expressed. Could any hearer fail to
comprehend? The transition also announces plainly the topic of the
rest of the speech.
Here, perhaps, I ought to stop. But a solicitude for your
welfare, which cannot end but with my life, and the
apprehension of danger, natural to that solicitude, urge me
on an occasion like the present, to offer to your solemn
contemplation, and to recommend to your frequent review, some
sentiments which are the result of much reflection, of no
inconsiderable observation, and which appear to me
all-important to the permanency of your felicity as a people.
These will be offered to you with the more freedom, as you
can only see in them the disinterested warnings of a parting
friend, who can possibly have no personal motive to bias his
counsels. Nor can I forget, as an encouragement to it, your
indulgent reception of my sentiment on a former and not
dissimilar occasion.
GEORGE WASHINGTON: _Farewell Address_, 1796
The next selection answers to a part of the plan announced in a
passage already quoted in this chapter. Notice how this transition
looks both backward and forward: it is both retrospective and
anticipatory. If you recall that repetition helps to emphasize facts,
you will readily understand why a transition is especially valuable if
it adheres to the same language as the first statement of the plan. In
a written scheme this might have appeared under the entry, "pass from
1 to 2; list 4 apologies for crime." This suggests fully the material
of the passage.
And with this exposure I take my leave of the Crime against
Kansas. Emerging from all the blackness of this Crime, where
we seem to have been lost, as in a savage wood, and turning
our backs upon it, as upon desolation and death, from which,
while others have suffered, we have escaped, I come now to
the Apologies which the Crime has found....
They are four in number, and fourfold in character. The first
is the Apology tyrannical; the second, the Apology imbecile;
the third, the Apology absurd; and the fourth, the Apology
infamous. That is all. Tyranny, imbecility, absurdity, and
infamy all unite to dance, like the weird sisters, about this
Crime.
The Apology tyrannical is founded on the mistaken act of
Governor Reeder, in authenticating the Usurping Legislature,
etc.
CHARLES SUMNER: _The Crime against Kansas_, 1856
The beginning speaker should not hesitate to make his transitions
perfectly clear to his audience. When they add to the merely bridging
use the additional value of serving as short summaries of what has
gone before and as sign posts of what is to follow, they are trebly
serviceable. The attempt to be clear will seldom be waste of time or
effort. The obvious statements of the preceding selections, the use of
figures, are excellent models for speakers to imitate. With practice
will come skill in making transitions of different kinds, in which the
same purposes will be served in various other ways, in what may be
considered more finished style. The next extracts represent this kind
of transition.
Sir, like most questions of civil prudence, this is neither
black nor white, but gray. The system of copyright has great
advantages and great disadvantages; and it is our business to
ascertain what these are, and then to make an arrangement
under which the advantages may be as far as possible secured,
and the disadvantages as far as possible excluded. The charge
which I bring against my honorable and learned friend's bill
is this, that it leaves the advantages nearly what they are
at present, and increases the disadvantages at least
fourfold.
THOMAS B. MACAULAY: _Copyright Bill_, 1841
One-third of the population of the South is of the Negro
race. No enterprise seeking the material, civil, or moral
welfare of this section can disregard this element of our
population and reach the highest success. I but convey to
you, Mr. President and Directors, the sentiment of the masses
of my race when I say that in no way have the value and
manhood of the American Negro been more fittingly and
generously recognized than by the managers of this
magnificent Exposition at every stage of its progress. It is
a recognition that will do more to cement the friendship of
the two races than any occurrence since the dawn of our
freedom.
BOOKER T. WASHINGTON in a speech at the Atlanta
Exposition, 1895
Thinking before You Speak. While students may feel that the steps
outlined here demand a great deal of preparation before the final
speech is delivered, the explanation may be given that after all, this
careful preparation merely carries out the homely adage--think before
you speak. If there were more thinking there would be at once better
speaking. Anybody can talk. The purpose of studying is to make one a
better speaker. The anticipation of some relief may be entertained,
for it is comforting to know that after one has followed the processes
here explained, they move more rapidly, so that after a time they may
become almost simultaneous up to the completion of the one just
discussed--planning the speech. It is also worth knowing that none of
this preliminary work is actually lost. Nor is it unseen. It appears
in the speech itself. The reward for all its apparent slowness and
exacting deliberation is in the clearness, the significance of the
speech, its reception by the audience, its effect upon them, and the
knowledge by the speaker himself that his efforts are producing
results in his accomplishments.
All speakers plan carefully for speeches long in advance.
A famous alumnus of Yale was invited to attend a banquet of Harvard
graduates. Warned that he must "speak for his dinner" he prepared more
than a dozen possible beginnings not knowing of course, in what manner
the toastmaster would call upon him. The remainder of his speech was
as carefully planned, although not with so many possible choices. Note
that from each possible opening to the body of the speech he had to
evolve a graceful transition.
Edmund Burke, in his great speech on conciliation with the American
colonies, related that some time before, a friend had urged him to
speak upon this matter, but he had hesitated. True, he had gone so far
as to throw "my thoughts into a sort of parliamentary form"--that is,
he made a plan or an outline, but the passage of a certain bill by the
House of Commons seemed to have taken away forever the chance of his
using the material. The bill, however, was returned from the House of
Lords with an amendment and in the resulting debate he delivered the
speech he had already planned.
Daniel Webster said that his reply to Hayne had been lying in his desk
for months already planned, merely waiting the opportunity or need for
its delivery.
Henry Ward Beecher, whose need for preliminary preparation was reduced
to its lowest terms, and who himself was almost an instantaneous
extemporizer, recognized the need for careful planning by young
speakers and warned them against "the temptation to slovenliness in
workmanship, to careless and inaccurate statement, to repetition, to
violation of good taste."
Slovenliness in planning is as bad as slovenliness in expression.
EXERCISES
Choose any topic suggested in this book. Make a short preliminary plan
of a speech upon it. Present it to the class. Consider it from the
following requirements:
1. Does it show clearly its intention?
2. How long will the speech be?
3. Too long? Too short?
4. For what kind of audience is it intended?
5. Has it unity?
6. Has it coherence?
7. Where are transitions most clearly needed?
8. What suggestions would you make for rearranging any parts?
9. What reasons have you for these changes?
10. Is proper emphasis secured?
CHAPTER VIII : MAKING THE OUTLINE OR BRIEF
PUBLIC SPEAKING By CLARENCE STRATTON
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