Equally clear have been some happy instances where I have found audiences
responding to a story I myself greatly liked, but which common
appreciation usually ignored. This is an experience even more persuasive
than the other, certainly more to be desired.

Every story-teller has lines of limitation; certain types of story will
always remain his or her best effort. There is no reason why any type of
story should be told really ill, and of course the number of kinds one
tells well increases with the growth of the appreciative capacity. But
none the less, it is wise to recognise the limits at each stage, and not
try to tell any story to which the honest inner consciousness says, "I do
not like you."

Let us then set down as a prerequisite for good story-telling, _a genuine
appreciation of the story_.

Now, we may suppose this genuine appreciation to be your portion. You have
chosen a story, have felt its charm, and identified the quality of its
appeal.

You are now to tell it in such wise that your hearers will get the same
kind of impression you yourself received from it. How?

I believe the inner secret of success is the measure of force with which
the teller wills the conveyance of his impression to the hearer.

Anyone who has watched, or has himself been, the teller of a story which
held an audience, knows that there is something approaching hypnotic
suggestion in the close connection of effort and effect, and in the
elimination of self-consciousness from speaker and listeners alike.