deals in superlatives. He views everything emotionally. He talks
feelingly of trifles, and ecstatically of friends. He gushes. He
flatters. To him everything is "wonderful," "prodigious," "superb,"
"gorgeous," "heavenly," "amazing," "indescribable," "overwhelming."
Extravagance and exaggeration permeate his most commonplace
observations. He is an incurable enthusiast.

The tantalizing talker is one who likes to contradict you. He divides
his attention between what you are saying and what he can summon to
oppose you. He dissents from your most ordinary observations. His
favorite phrases are, "I don't think so," "There is where you are
wrong," "I beg to differ," and "Not only that." Tell him it will be a
fine day, and he will declare that the signs indicate foul weather. Say
that the day is unpromising, and he will assure you it does not look
that way to him. He cavils at trifles. He disputes even when there is no
antagonist.

To listen to the tortuous talker is a supreme test of patience. He
slowly winds his way in and out of a subject. He traverses by-paths,
allowing nothing to escape his unwearied eye. He goes a long way about,
but never tires of his circuitous journey. Ploddingly and perseveringly
he zigzags from one point to another. He alters his course as often as
the crooked way of his subject changes. He twists, turns, and diverges
without the slightest inconvenience to himself. He likes nothing better
than to trace out details. His talking disease is discursiveness.

The tranquil talker never hurries. He has all the time there is. If you
are very busy he will wait. He is uniformly moderate and polite. He is
a rare combination of oil, milk, and rose-water. He would not harm a
syllable of the English language. His talking has a soporific effect. It