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Read the following excerpt from “The Voyage” by Katherine Ma…

Read the following excerpt from “The Voyage” by Katherine Mansfield. The Picton boat was due to leave at half-past eleven. It was a beautiful night, mild, starry, only when they got out of the cab and started to walk down the Old Wharf that jutted out into the harbour, a faint wind blowing off the water ruffled under Fenella’s hat, and she put up her hand to keep it on. It was dark on the Old Wharf, very dark; the wool sheds, the cattle trucks, the cranes standing up so high, the little squat railway engine, all seemed carved out of solid darkness. Here and there on a rounded wood-pile, that was like the stalk of a huge black mushroom, there hung a lantern, but it seemed afraid to unfurl its timid, quivering light in all that blackness; it burned softly, as if for itself. Fenella’s father pushed on with quick, nervous strides. Beside him her grandma bustled along in her crackling black ulster; they went so fast that she had now and again to give an undignified little skip to keep up with them. As well as her luggage strapped into a neat sausage, Fenella carried clasped to her her grandma’s umbrella, and the handle, which was a swan’s head, kept giving her shoulder a sharp little peck as if it too wanted her to hurry…. Men, their caps pulled down, their collars turned up, swung by; a few women all muffled scurried along; and one tiny boy, only his little black arms and legs showing out of a white woolly shawl, was jerked along angrily between his father and mother; he looked like a baby fly that had fallen into the cream. Then suddenly, so suddenly that Fenella and her grandma both leapt, there sounded from behind the largest wool shed, that had a trail of smoke hanging over it, “Mia-oo-oo-O-O!” “First whistle,” said her father briefly, and at that moment they came in sight of the Picton boat. Lying beside the dark wharf, all strung, all beaded with round golden lights, the Picton boat looked as if she was more ready to sail among stars than out into the cold sea. People pressed along the gangway. First went her grandma, then her father, then Fenella. There was a high step down on to the deck, and an old sailor in a jersey standing by gave her his dry, hard hand. They were there; they stepped out of the way of the hurrying people, and standing under a little iron stairway that led to the upper deck they began to say good-bye. “There, mother, there’s your luggage!” said Fenella’s father, giving grandma another strapped-up sausage. “Thank you, Frank.” “And you’ve got your cabin tickets safe?” “Yes, dear.” “And your other tickets?” Grandma felt for them inside her glove and showed him the tips. “That’s right.” He sounded stern, but Fenella, eagerly watching him, saw that he looked tired and sad. “Mia-oo-oo-O-O!” The second whistle blared just above their heads, and a voice like a cry shouted, “Any more for the gangway?” “You’ll give my love to father,” Fenella saw her father’s lips say. And her grandma, very agitated, answered, “Of course I will, dear. Go now. You’ll be left. Go now, Frank. Go now.” “It’s all right, mother. I’ve got another three minutes.” To her surprise Fenella saw her father take off his hat. He clasped grandma in his arms and pressed her to him. “God bless you, mother!” she heard him say. And grandma put her hand, with the black thread glove that was worn through on her ring finger, against his cheek, and she sobbed, “God bless you, my own brave son!” This was so awful that Fenella quickly turned her back on them, swallowed once, twice, and frowned terribly at a little green star on a mast head. But she had to turn round again; her father was going. “Good-bye, Fenella. Be a good girl.” His cold, wet moustache brushed her cheek. But Fenella caught hold of the lapels of his coat. “How long am I going to stay?” she whispered anxiously. He wouldn’t look at her. He shook her off gently, and gently said, “We’ll see about that. Here! Where’s your hand?” He pressed something into her palm. “Here’s a shilling in case you should need it.” Write one to two paragraphs analyzing the tone and word choice in the excerpt. Identify the tone of the excerpt, explain why Mansfield chose that tone, and analyze how word choice helps her achieve this impact. Be sure to include evidence from the text to support your ideas.

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