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A
competitor may choose any speech that was once delivered in public. NCFL rules call for specific
introductory material and a ten-minute time limit. The NCFL is the largest league in the United
States that offers Declamation as a category for competition; most local and state leagues adhere to
NCFL rules or slight variations on them.
From the official NCFL critique sheet (see link below):
"The speaker should convey the message in a sincere, honest and realistic attempt to recreate
the spirit of the original presentation. Although the style of delivery chosen by the speaker
should be judged in light of the purpose of the speech, artificiality is to be discredited. The
message should conveyed credibly and convincingly as if the words were the speaker’s own.
This event is an interpretation, not an impersonation."
Therefore, the purpose of the category is not to give an impersonation of the original speaker; it is
to interpret their words in an interesting and convincing manner that fits the individual competitor.
The competitor is only required to recreate the general "feel" of the original delivery, not mimic it.
"The introduction must name the work and author, provide necessary background
information and establish the mood."
"The speaker should be physically open to the audience and use body language that
invites the audience into the world of the declaimer. The speaker should vary facial
expression to
accentuate the natural flow of thoughts and feelings. The speaker should make eye contact
with the
audience. The speaker’s stance should be erect and controlled, without distracting
movements. Movement,
if used, should be motivated by transitions in thought or mood. Gestures should be visible,
effectively
used for emphasis, and varied."
you’re a hell of a cow-man, you are! You, and your yaller shoes!
How would you look a-straddle of a Roman-nosed cayuse !
Where would you be in a round-up, or a mix with the
Greasers, say ?
Where is the boy I loved – the feller I sent away?
He had some style about him! He was a boy! All through !
But he went away to college – and the college has sent back you !
I should have brung you a go-cart, not a real hoss to ride !
I reckon you’re God’s rebuke for me totin’ too damn much pride.
For I was plumb proud of you- I grieved when you went away;
I couldn’t say half the things I had in my heart to say;
And-What is that thing you’re wearin’? A wrist watch! Holy cats!
And what are them white things on you? What is it you call ‘em, spats .
And why are your pants so tight? And why don’t they reach your shoes ?
Gee ! But you would play hell on the back of a wild cayuse !
And when your poor mother sees you-Climb onto your hoss and ride !
Don’t you see the town-folks lookin’ ? Come on an’ let’s get outside !
If we’d a-stayed there much longer someone would have
laughed, and then
I’d had to have started something I couldn’t undo again;
For you are my son-God help me! – and no one may laugh at you
And not have your father call him. This place we are comin’ to
Is where that there young school teacher was caught by that
Greaser band-
Oh, well, we won’t talk about that. I reckon you can’t understand
How a real he-man gets feelin’-Hold up! What is that ahead?
It’s the same band! Ridin’ for us! God! Look at ‘em ride and spread!
Your hoss hasn’t had no rider-he’s fresh as he started out!
Don’t ever take time to look when you get him turned about,
But ride him like hell to town, and get out the posse–quick.
Tell them to make the river and head off the band! I’ll stick.
My hoss couldn’t make the distance ahead of that rush no how-
And I never turned back on a Greaser! And I ain’t beginnin’ now!
When it’s safe and the fight is over, come back where I am, and by
The Greasers I’ve sent to hell you’ll see how a man can die.
Tell your mother I thought about her-And give him the spurs and ride!
Don’t you see them cut tin’ around us? Oh, God! With a he-man I’d
Go through ‘em like hell a-poppin’! Go on! Make your get-away!
What’s that you are sayin’ to me? Made up your mind to stay?
You have ? Shoot your hoss then! Shoot him! Here! Let me !
That’s the how!
That’s it, get down behind him! Now for my own hoss! Now!
What’s that you are handlin’ that way, and boldin’ so tight- my son?
That one of them automatics? I’ve beard of that kind of gun!
I wonder if you can use it-Hi-golly! You got that cuss !
I wish that your ma could see us! You bet she’d be proud of us!
I’m strong for the old six-gun, son-Sho! That went a little high!
I guess they have got your father-feels like a broken thigh-
You got that one’s hoss that time! And I got the rider – dead!
Say! We will go ridin’ bell-ward with half of that band ahead!
And if your poor ma could see us-You got ‘im! You got ‘im! She
When they have found us I reckon will be proud of her boy and me!
What’s that? We ain’t got ‘em running’? The posse! And just in time!
I reckon they’ll have to tote me; I ain’t in no shape to climb
On a hoss; but, son, ride by me, I’m proud of the way you done!
And your mother will be proud of you. The lord bas give us a son!
And if the spats you are wearin’ and the pants you have on suit you
I’m for ‘em! From bell to breakfast! And I’m for the wrist watch too !
And the boys that’s riding’ for us bas got to outfit like that,
With spats and skin-tight britches, and wrist-watch and dinky hat!
It is raining.
Where would you like to be in the rain?
Where would you like to be?
I’d like to be on a city street
Where the rain comes driving down
Trying to make things neat
As it washes the houses, roof and wall
The taxis, buses, cars, and all.
That’s where I’d like to be in the rain
That’s where I’d like to be.
It is raining.
Where would you like to be in the rain?
Where would you like to be?
I’d like to be in a tall tree top
Where the rain comes dripping drop, drop, drop, drop,
Around on every side –
where it wets the farmers, the barns, the pig.
the cows, the chickens, both little and big.
Where it batters and beats on a field of grain.
And makes the little birds hide from the rain.
That’s where I’d like to be in the rain.
That’s where I’d like to be.
It is raining.
Where would you like to be in the rain?
Where would you like to be?
I’d like to be on a ship at sea
Where everything’s wet as can be
And the waves are rolling high
Where sailors are pulling the ropes and singing
And winds in the rigging and salt’s sprays stinging
And round us sea gulls cry
On a dipping, skimming ship at sea.
That’s where I’d like to be in the rain.
That’s where I’d like to be.