Talks on Talking | Page 4

but he simply cannot. He has something
more to say. He keeps you standing half an hour. He talks a while
longer. He assures you he really must go. You tell him not to hurry. He
takes you at your word and sits down again. He talks some more. He
rises again. He does not know even now how to conclude. He has no
mental compass. He is a rudderless talker.
Probably the most obnoxious type is the tattling talker. He always has
something startlingly personal to impart. It is a sacred secret for your
ear. He is a wholesale dealer in gossip. He fairly smacks his lips as he
relates the latest scandal. He is an expert embellisher. He adroitly
supplies missing details. He has nothing of interest in his own life,
since he lives wholly in the lives of others. He is a frightful bore, but
you cannot offend him. He is adamant.
There is the tautological talker, or the human self-repeater. He goes
over the ground again and again lest you have missed something. He is
very fond of himself. He tells the same story not twice, but a dozen
times. "You may have heard this before," says he, "but it is so good that
it will bear repetition." He tries to disguise his poverty of thought in a
masquerade of ornate language. If he must repeat his words, he adds a
little emphasis, a flourishing gesture, or a spirit of nonchalance.
Again, there is the tenacious talker, who refuses to release you though
you concede his arguments. When all others tacitly drop a subject, he
eagerly picks it up. He is reluctant to leave it. He would put you in
possession of his special knowledge. You may successfully refute him,
but he holds firmly to his own ideas. He is positive he is right. He will
prove it, too, if you will only listen. He knows that he knows. You
cannot convince him to the contrary, no indeed. He will talk you so
blind that at last you are unable to see any viewpoint clearly.

A recognized type is the tactless talker. He says the wrong thing in the
right way, and the right thing in the wrong way. He is impulsive and
unguarded. He reaches hasty conclusions. He confuses his tactlessness
with cleverness. He is awkward and blundering. His indifference to the
rights and feelings of others is his greatest enemy. He is a stranger to
discretion. He speaks first, and thinks afterwards. He may have regrets,
but not resolutions. He is often tolerated, but seldom esteemed.
The temperamental talker is one of the greatest of nerve-destroyers. He
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

acts as a lullaby. His speech is low and gentle. He never speaks an
ill-considered word. He chooses his words with measured caution. He
is what is known as a smooth talker.
The torpedo talker is of the rapid fire explosive variety. He bursts into a
conversation. He scatters labials, dentals, and gutturals in all directions.
He is a war-time talker,--boom,