Nor must you treat cavalierly the words you know already. You must study
them afresh; you must learn them over and learn them better; you must come
to understand them, not only for what they are, but for what they will do.
What, then, is your first task? Somebody has laid down the injunction--
and, as always when anything is enjoined, others have given it currency--
that each day you should learn two new words. So be it,--but which two?
The first two in the dictionary, or hitherto left untouched in your
systematic conquest of the dictionary? The first two you hear spoken? The
first two that stare at you from casual, everyday print? The first two you
can ferret from some technical jargon, some special department of human
interest or endeavor? In any of these ways you may obey the behest of
these mentors. But are not such ways arbitrary, haphazard? And suppose,
after doing your daily stint, you should encounter a word it behooves you
to know. What then? Are you to sulk, to withhold yourself from further
exertion on the plea of a vocabulary-builder's eight-hour day?
To adopt any of the methods designated would be like resolving to invest
in city lots and then buying properties as you encountered them, with no
regard for expenditure, for value in general, or for special
serviceability to you.
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