Tips and ideas for the Hong Kong Speech Festival

9. At the Railway Station, Upway by Thomas Hardy ‘ There is not much that I can do, For I’ve no money that’s quite my own!’ Spoke up the pitying child – A little boy with a violin At the station before the train came in – ‘ But I can play my fiddle to you, And a nice one ‘tis, and good in tone!’ The man in the handcuffs smiled; The constable looked, and he smiled, too, As the fiddle began to twang; And the man in the handcuffs suddenly sang With grimful glee: ‘ This life so free Is the thing for me!’ And the constable smiled, and said no word, As if unconscious of what he heard; And so they went on till the train came in – The convict, and boy with the violin.

11. 1) Pronunciation, tone, meaning. At the Railway Station, Upway by Thomas Hardy ‘ There is not much that I can do, For I’ve no money that’s quite my own!’ Spoke up the pitying child – A little boy with a violin At the station before the train came in – ‘ But I can play my fiddle to you, And a nice one ‘tis, and good in tone!’ The man in the handcuffs smiled; The constable looked, and he smiled, too, As the fiddle began to twang; And the man in the handcuffs suddenly sang With grimful glee: ‘ This life so free Is the thing for me!’ And the constable smiled, and said no word, As if unconscious of what he heard; And so they went on till the train came in – The convict, and boy with the violin.

16. 3) Rhythm and rhyme From a Railway Carriage by Robert Louis Stevenson Faster than fairies, faster than witches, Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches; And charging along like the troops in a battle, All through the meadows the horses and cattle: All of the sights of the hill and the plain Fly as thick as driving rain; And ever again, in the wink of an eye, Painted stations whistle by. Here is a child who clambers and scrambles, All by himself and gathering brambles; Here is a tramp who stands and gazes; And there is the green for stringing the daisies! Here is a cart run away in the road Lumping along with man and load; And here is a mill, and there is a river: Each a glimpse and gone for ever!

17. 4) Capturing sounds Silver by Walter De La Mere Slowly, silently, now the moon Walks the night in her silver shoon; This way, and that, she peers, and sees Silver fruit upon silver trees; One by one the casements catch Her beams beneath the silvery thatch; Couched in his kennel, like a log, With paws of silver sleeps the dog; From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep; A harvest mouse goes scampering by, With silver claws, and silver eye; And moveless fish in the water gleam, By silver reeds in a silver stream.

18. Silver by Walter De La Mere Slowly, silently , now the moon Walks the night in her silver shoon; This way, and that, she peers , and sees Silver fruit upon silver trees ; One by one the casements catch Her beams beneath the silvery thatch; Couched in his kennel, like a log, With paws of silver sleeps the dog; From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep ; A harvest mouse goes scampering by, With silver claws , and silver eye; And moveless fish in the water gleam, By silver reeds in a silver stream .

20. 5) Body language and facial expressions From HKSMSA rules and regulations Competitors could decide whether or not their use of gestures, movements, music, costumes, props, etc. would enhance the quality of their performance . However, they should always bear in mind that the adjudicators will make a decision with reference to the judging criteria and the overall performances. The decision of the adjudicators shall be final.

24. 6) ‘Ambiguous’ poems – seeking the ‘right’ interpretation. The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth. Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same. And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

28. Mr Wonka rushed on down the corridor. THE NUT ROOM, it said on the next door they came to. ‘All right,’ said Mr Wonka, ‘stop here for a moment and catch your breath, and take a peek through the glass panel of this door. But don’t go in! Whatever you do, don’t go into THE NUT ROOM! If you go in, you’ll disturb the squirrels!’ Everyone crowded around the door. ‘ Oh look, Grandpa, look!’ cried Charlie. ‘Squirrels!’ shouted Veruca Salt. ‘ Crikey!’ said Mike Teavee. It was an amazing sight. One hundred squirrels were seated upon high stools around a large table. On the table, there were mounds and mounds of walnuts, and the squirrels were all working away like mad, shelling the walnuts at a tremendous speed.

30. “ And now,” said Lucy, “do please tell us what’s happened to Mr Tumnus.” “ Ah, that’s bad,” said Mr Beaver, shaking his head. “That’s a very, very bad business. There’s no doubt he was taken off by the police. I got that from a bird who saw it done.” “ But where’s he been taken to?” asked Lucy. “ Well, they were heading northward when they were last seen and we all know what that means.” “ No, we don’t,” said Susan. Mr Beaver shook his head in a very gloomy fashion. “I’m afraid it means they were taking him to her House,” he said. “ But what’ll they do to him, Mr Beaver?” gasped Lucy.

31. “ Well,” said Mr Beaver, “you can’t exactly say for sure. But there’s not many taken in there that ever comes out again. Statues. All full of statues they say it is – in the courtyard and up the stairs and in the hall. People she’s turned” – (he paused and shuddered) “turned into stone.” “ But, Mr Beaver,” said Lucy, “can’t we – I mean we must do something to save him. It’s too dreadful and it’s all on my account.” “ I don’t doubt you’d save him if you could, dearie,” said Mrs Beaver, “but you’ve no chance of getting into that House against her will and ever coming out alive.” “ Couldn’t we have some stratagem?” said Peter. “I mean couldn’t we dress up as something – or watch till she has gone out –or – oh, hang it all, there must be some way. This Faun saved my sister at his own risk, Mr Beaver. We can’t just leave him to be – to be – to have that done to him.”