rule to stop.

An excellent example of a short story well told is "An Incident of the
French Camp," by Robert Browning. Only the absolutely necessary has
been introduced. The incidents flash before the reader. Nothing can be
said after the last line. "Herve Riel" is a vivid piece of narrative
too. Such an exhibition of manliness appeals to all. Was it necessary
to attach the last stanza? If this poem needed it, why not the other?
If the story has no moral in it, no man can tie it on; if there is
one, the reader should be accounted intelligent enough to find it
without any help.

Tedious Enumerations.

Making all the incidents converge to one main incident will avoid
tiresome enumerations of inconsequential events, which frequently fill
the compositions of young pupils. Such essays generally start with "a
bright, clear morning," and "a party of four of us." After recounting
a dozen events of no consequence whatever, "we came home to a late
supper, well repaid for our day's outing." These compositions may be
quite correct in the choice of words, sentences, and paragraphs, and
with it all be flat. There is nothing to them; they get the reader
nowhere. Pick out one of the many incidents. Work it up. Turn back to
the paragraph from Stevenson and notice how little there is to it when
reduced to bare outline. He has worked it up so that it is good.
Always remember that a short anecdote well told is worth pages of
aimless enumeration.

What to include.

The selection of the main incident will guide in determining what to
include; for every detail must be included that is necessary to make
the main incident possible. A young pupil wrote of a party in the
woods. The girls had found pleasant seats in a car and were chatting
about their friends, when they felt a sudden lurch, and soon one of
the party was besmeared by slippery, sticky whites of eggs. Now, if
eggs were in the habit of clinging to the roofs of cars and breaking
at unfortunate moments, there would be no need of any explanation; but
as the cook forgot to boil the eggs and the girl had put them up into
the rack herself, some of this should have been told. Enough at least
should be told to make the main incident a possibility. Stories are
full of surprises, but they can be understood easily from the
preceding incidents; or else the new element is one that happens
frequently, and of itself is nothing new. In the paragraph from
Stevenson, the entrance of the "p