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diff --git a/old/10811-h/10811-h.htm b/old/10811-h/10811-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8054793 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10811-h/10811-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10913 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of DE LA SALLE SERIES FIFTH +READER, by THE BROTHERS OF THE CHRISTIAN SCHOOLS.</title> +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Garamond;} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 14pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H5 { text-align: center; } + H3,H4,H6 { text-align: left; } + HR { width: 33%; } + // --> + </style> +<style type="text/css"> + span.c11 {layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 3em;} + span.c10 {layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 1.75em;} + span.c9 {layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 1.5em;} + span.c8 {layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 2.5em;} + hr.c7 {text-align: left} + span.c6 {layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 5.25em;} + span.c5 {layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 1em;} + span.c4 {layout-flow: horizontal; margin-left: 0.5em;} + hr.c3 {width: 45%;} + div.c2 {text-align: center} + hr.c1 {width: 65%;} +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of De La Salle Fifth Reader +by Brothers of the Christian Schools + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: De La Salle Fifth Reader + +Author: Brothers of the Christian Schools + +Release Date: January 23, 2004 [EBook #10811] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DE LA SALLE FIFTH READER *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David Gundry and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + + +</pre> + +<table width="80%" summary="Bookspace" align="center"> +<tr> +<td><br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h2><i>DE LA SALLE SERIES</i></h2> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>FIFTH READER</h2> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/001.gif" alt= +"WILLIAM McKINLEY PRESIDENT 1897-1901" border="0"></div> +<h5>WILLIAM McKINLEY PRESIDENT 1897-1901</h5> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>(REVISED EDITION, 1922)</h2> +<h5>BY THE BROTHERS OF THE CHRISTIAN SCHOOLS,<br> + ST. JOSEPH'S NORMAL INSTITUTE, POCANTICO HILLS, N.Y.<br> + LA SALLE INSTITUTE, GLENCOE, MO.</h5> +<br> +<br> + + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="CONTENTS_1"></a> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h4><a href="#_2_">_2_ PREFACE</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_3_">_3_ INTRODUCTION</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_4_">_4_ SUGGESTIONS</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_5_">_5_ GUIDE TO PRONUNCIATION</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_6_">_6_ DEFINITIONS</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_7_">_7_ HYMN TO ST. LA SALLE. +<i>Mercedes</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_8_">_8_ COLUMBUS AT THE CONVENT. <i>J.T. +Trowbridge</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_9_">_9_ THE LITTLE FERN. <i>Mara L. +Pratt</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_10_">_10_ HELPING MOTHER.</a></h4> +<a name="CONTENTS_2"></a> +<h4><a href="#_11_">_11_ A CONTENTED WORKMAN.</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_12_">_12_ TWO LABORERS. <i>Thomas +Carlyle</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_13_">_13_ THE GRUMBLING PUSS.</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_14_">_14_ THE BROOK SONG. <i>James Whitcomb +Riley</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_15_">_15_ THE STORY OF THE SEED-DOWN. +<i>Rydingsvard</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_16_">_16_ THE USE OF FLOWERS. <i>Mary +Howitt</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_17_">_17_ PIERRE'S LITTLE SONG.</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_18_">_18_ SEPTEMBER. <i>Helen Hunt +Jackson</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_19_">_19_ "MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME." <i>Mrs. T.A. +Sherrard</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_20_">_20_ THE FIRST MIRACLE OF JESUS.</a></h4> +<a name="CONTENTS_3"></a> +<h4><a href="#_21_">_21_ MY BEADS. <i>Father Ryan</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_22_">_22_ THE HARP THAT ONCE THROUGH TARA'S HALLS. +<i>Thomas Moore</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_23_">_23_ A LITTLE LADY. <i>Louisa M. +Alcott</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_24_">_24_ WHAT HOUSE TO LIKE. +<i>Anon.</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_25_">_25_ A SONG OF DUTY. <i>Denis A. +McCarthy</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_26_">_26_ AN EVENING WITH THE ANGELS.</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_27_">_27_ MY GUARDIAN ANGEL. <i>Cardinal +Newman</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_28_">_28_ LITTLE BELL. <i>Thomas +Westwood</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_29_">_28_ A MODEST WIT. <i>Selleck +Osborne</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_30_">_30_ WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE. <i>George P. +Morris</i></a></h4> +<a name="CONTENTS_4"></a> +<h4><a href="#_31_">_31_ THE BOSTON TEA PARTY.</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_32_">_32_ THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. <i>Samuel +Woodworth</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_33_">_33_ THE BOY AND THE CRICKETS. <i>Pierre J. +Hetzel</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_34_">_34_ OUR HEROES. <i>Phoebe Cary</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_35_">_35_ THE MINNOWS WITH SILVER TAILS. <i>Jean +Ingelow</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_36_">_36_ THE BROOK. <i>Tennyson</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_37_">_37_ LEARNING TO THINK.</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_38_">_38_ ONE BY ONE. <i>Adelaide A. +Procter</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_39_">_39_ THE BIRCH CANOE. +<i>Longfellow</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_40_">_40_ PETER OF CORTONA.</a></h4> +<a name="CONTENTS_5"></a> +<h4><a href="#_41_">_41_ To MY DOG BLANCO. <i>J.G. +Holland</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_42_">_42_ A STORY OF A MONK.</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_43_">_43_ THE SERMON OF ST. FRANCIS. +<i>Longfellow</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_44_">_44_ GLORIA IN EXCELSIS. <i>Father +Ryan</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_45_">_45_ THE FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE. <i>Eugene +Field</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_46_">_46_ THE HOLY CITY.</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_47_">_47_ THE FEAST OF TONGUES. +<i>Aesop</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_48_">_48_ THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE GLOWWORM. +<i>William Cowper</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_49_">_49_ JACK FROST. <i>Hannah F. +Gould</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_50_">_50_ "GOING! GOING! GONE!" <i>Helen Hunt +Jackson</i></a></h4> +<a name="CONTENTS_6"></a> +<h4><a href="#_51_">_51_ SEVEN TIMES TWO. <i>Jean +Ingelow</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_52_">_52_ MY MOTHER'S GRAVE.</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_53_">_53_ THE OLD ARM-CHAIR. <i>Eliza +Cook</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_54_">_54_ BREAK, BREAK, BREAK! +<i>Tennyson</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_55_">_55_ GOD IS OUR FATHER.</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_56_">_56_ HAPPY OLD AGE. <i>Robert +Southey</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_57_">_57_ KIND WORDS. <i>Father Faber</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_58_">_58_ KINDNESS IS THE WORD. <i>John Boyle +O'Reilly</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_59_">_59_ DAFFODILS. <i>William +Wordsworth</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_60_">_60_ THE STORY OF TARCISIUS. <i>Cardinal +Wiseman</i></a></h4> +<a name="CONTENTS_7"></a> +<h4><a href="#_61_">_61_ LEGEND OF THE WAXEN CIBORIUM. <i>Eleanor +C. Donnelly</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_62_">_62_ LITTLE DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY. <i>Nathaniel +Hawthorne</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_63_">_63_ IN SCHOOL DAYS <i>Whittier</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_64_">_64_ THE SUN'S FAMILY</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_65_">_65_ WILL AND I <i>Paul H. Hayne</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_66_">_66_ CHRISTMAS DINNER AT THE CRATCHITS'. +<i>Charles Dickens</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_67_">_67_ WHICH SHALL IT BE? <i>Anon</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_68_">_68_ ST. DOROTHY, MARTYR.</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_69_">_69_ TO A BUTTERFLY. <i>William +Wordsworth</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_70_">_70_ THE PEN AND THE INKSTAND. <i>Hans +Christian Andersen</i></a></h4> +<a name="CONTENTS_8"></a> +<h4><a href="#_71_">_71_ THE WIND AND THE MOON. <i>George +MacDonald</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_72_">_72_ ST. PHILIP NERI AND THE YOUTH.</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_73_">_73_ THE WATER LILY. <i>Jean +Ingelow</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_74_">_74_ A BUILDER'S LESSON. <i>John Boyle +O'Reilly</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_75_">_75_ WASHINGTON AND HIS MOTHER.</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_76_">_76_ WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY. <i>Margaret E. +Sangster</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_77_">_77_ THE SWORD OF BUNKER HILL. <i>William R. +Wallace</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_78_">_78_ THE MARTYR'S BOY. <i>Cardinal +Wiseman</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_79_">_79_ THE ANGEL'S STORY. <i>Adelaide A. +Procter</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_80_">_80_ GLUCK'S VISITOR. <i>John +Ruskin</i></a></h4> +<a name="CONTENTS_9"></a> +<h4><a href="#_81_">_81_ A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS. <i>Clement C. +Moore</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_82_">_82_ COMMODORE JOHN BARRY.</a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_83_">_83_ THE BOY OF THE HOUSE. <i>Jean +Blewett</i></a></h4> +<h4><a href="#_84_">_84_ BIOGRAPHIES</a></h4> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>(Transcriber's Note: Although "ABOU BEN ADHEM AND THE ANGEL. <i>Leigh +Hunt</i>" and "A SIMPLE RECIPE. <i>James Whitcomb Riley</i>" were +originally shown in the list above, neither work appears in the +text.)</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_2_"></a> +<h1>_2_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_1">PREFACE</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>The object of the Christian Brothers in issuing a new series +of Readers is to place in the hands of the teachers and pupils of +our Catholic schools a set of books embodying the matter and +methods best suited to their needs. The matter has been written +or chosen with a view to interest and instruct, to cultivate a +taste for the best literature, to build up a strong moral +character and to imbue our children with an intelligent love of +Faith and Country. The methods are those approved by the most +experienced and progressive teachers of reading in Europe and +America.</p> +<p>These Readers have also been specially designed to elicit +thought and facilitate literary composition. In furtherance of +this idea, class talks, word study, the structure of sentences, +drills on certain correct forms of expression, the proper +arrangement of ideas, explanation of phrases and literary +expressions, oral and written reproductions of narrations and +descriptions, and exercises in original composition, all receive +the attention which their importance demands. Thus will the +pupils, while learning to read and from their earliest years, +acquire that readiness in grasping the thoughts of others and +that fluency in expressing their own, which are so essential to a +good English education.</p> +<p>In teaching the art of Reading as well as that of Composition, +the principle of order should in a great measure determine the +value of the methods to be employed. In the acquisition of +knowledge, the child instinctively follows the order of nature. +This order is first, <i>observation</i>; second, <i>thought</i>; +third, <i>expression</i>. It becomes the duty of the teacher, +consequently, to lead the child to observe <i>accurately</i>, to +think <i>clearly</i>, and to express his thoughts +<i>correctly</i>. And text-books are useful only in so far as +they supply the teacher with the material and the system best +calculated to accomplish such results.</p> +<p>It is therefore hoped that the present new series of Readers, +having been planned in accordance with the principle just +enunciated, will prove a valuable adjunct in our Catholic +schools.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_3_"></a> +<h1>_3_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_1">INTRODUCTION</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>In this Fifth Reader of the De La Salle Series the plan of the +preceding numbers has been continued. The pupil has now mastered +the mechanical difficulties of learning to read, and has acquired +a fairly good working vocabulary. Hence he is prepared to read +intelligently and with some degree of fluency and pleasure. Now +is the time to lead him to acquire a taste for good reading. The +selections have been drawn mainly from authors whose writings are +distinguished for their moral and literary value, and whose style +is sure to excite a lasting interest.</p> +<p>In addition to giving the pupil practice in reading and +forming a basis for oral and written composition work, these +selections will raise his ideas of right living, will quicken his +imagination, will give him his first knowledge of many things, +stimulate his powers of observation, enlarge his vocabulary, and +correct and refine his mode of expression. A wholesome reading +habit, so important to-day, will thus be easily, pleasantly and +unconsciously formed.</p> +<p>The following are some of the features of the book:</p> +<p>GUIDE TO PRONUNCIATION.-This Guide is to be referred to again +and again, and the diacritical marks carefully taught. +Instruction in the vowel sounds is an excellent drill in +articulation, while a knowledge of the diacritical marks enables +the pupil to master these sounds for himself when consulting the +dictionary.</p> +<p>VARIETY OF MATTER.-In the volume will be found the best +sentiments of the best writers. The pupil will find fables, +nature studies, tales of travel and adventure, brave deeds from +history and fiction, stories of loyalty and heroism, examples of +sublime Christian self-sacrifice, and selections that teach +industry, contentment, respect for authority, reverence for all +things sacred, attachment to home, and fidelity to faith and +Country.</p> +<p>LANGUAGE STUDY.-If reading is to hold its proper place in the +class room, the teaching of it must not be confined to the mere +reading of the text. In its truest sense, reading is far more +comprehensive. The teacher will question the pupil on what he has +read, point out to him the beauties of thought and language, find +out what hold the reading has taken upon his memory, how it has +aroused his imagination, assisted his judgment, directed his +will, and contributed to his fund of general information. To +assist in this most important work is the object aimed at in the +matter given for Language Study. Such study will also give fuller +powers of interpretation and corresponding appreciation of the +selection considered simply as literature.</p> +<p>RECITATIONS.-There are some selections marked for recitation. +The public recitation of these extracts will banish awkwardness +of manner, beget self-confidence, and lay the foundation for +subsequent elocutionary work. Besides, experience teaches that a +single poem or address based upon some heroic or historic event, +recited before a class or a school, will often do more to build +up a noble character and foster a love of history, than a full +term of instruction by question and answer.</p> +<p>POETRY.-The numerous poetic selections, some of which are +partly analyzed by way of suggestion, will create a love for the +highest and purest forms of literature, will broaden the field of +knowledge, and emphasize the teachings of some of the prose +selections. Many of them have been written by American authors. +Every American boy and girl should be acquainted with the works +of poets who have done so much for the development of American +literature and nationality.</p> +<p>MEMORY GEMS.-"The memorizing of choice bits of prose and +poetry enriches the vocabulary of the pupils, adorns their +memory, suggests delicate and noble thoughts, and puts them in +possession of sentences of the best construction. The recitation +of these expressive texts accustoms the children to speak with +ease, grace and elegance." ("Elements of Practical +Pedagogy.")</p> +<p>BIOGRAPHIES.-Young children enjoy literature for its own sake, +and take little interest in the personality of the writer; but as +they grow older, pleasure in the work of an author arouses an +interest in the writer himself. Brief biographical sketches are +given at the close of the volume as helps in the study of the +authors from whom selections are drawn, and to induce the pupils +to read further.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_4_"></a> +<h1>_4_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_1">SUGGESTIONS</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>WORD STUDY.-The pupil should know how to spell and pronounce +correctly all the words of the selection he is preparing to read. +He should know their ordinary meanings and the special meanings +they may have in the text. He should be able to write them +correctly from dictation and to use them in sentences of his own. +He should examine if they are primitive, derivative, or compound; +he should be able to name the prefixes and suffixes and show how +the meanings of the original words are modified by their use. He +should cultivate the habit of word mastery. What is read will not +otherwise be understood. Without it there can be no good reading, +speaking or writing.</p> +<p>EXPRESSIVE READING.-There should be constant drill to secure +correct pronunciation, distinct articulation, proper emphasis, +and an agreeable tone of voice, without which there can be no +expressive reading. This is a difficult task, and will take much +time, trouble and practice; but it has far-reaching results. It +enlarges the sympathy of the pupil and lays the foundation for a +genuine love of literature. Do not, then, let the reading lesson +drift into a dull and monotonous calling of words. On the +contrary, let it be intelligent, spirited, enthusiastic. Emotion +comes largely from the imagination. The pupil himself must be +taught not only to feel what he reads, but to make its meaning +clear to others. It is important that children be taught to +acquire thought through the ear.</p> +<p>CONCERT READING.-Reading in concert is generally of little +value, and the time given to it ill-spent. It does not aid the +children in getting thought, or in expressing it fluently. As an +exercise in teaching reading it is ineffective and often +positively harmful. A concert recitation to which special +training has been given partakes of the nature of a hymn or a +song, and then becomes an element of value. If occasionally there +must be concert reading in the class room, it should always be +preceded by individual mastery of the selection.</p> +<p>POEMS.-In the first lesson, a poem, like a picture, should be +presented as a whole, and never dissected. The teacher should +first read it through, not stopping for note or comment. He +should then read it again, part by part, stopping, for question, +explanation and discussion. Lastly, the whole poem, should be +read with suitable emotion, so that the final impression may be +made by the author's own words. It is important that the pupil +get the message which the author intended to give. In teaching a +descriptive poem, make the pictures as vivid as possible, and +thus awaken the imagination. In dealing with a narrative poem, +the sequence of events must first be made clear. When this is +done, the aim should be to give fuller meaning to the story by +bringing out clearly the causes, motives and results of acts. All +this will take time. Be it so. One poem well read, well studied, +is worth more than a volume carelessly read over. In reading +poetry, be careful that the pupils, while giving the rhythm of +the lines, do not fall into the singsong tone so common and so +disagreeable.</p> +<p>EXPLANATIONS.-Explanations should accompany every reading +lesson, without which there can be no serious teaching of the +vernacular. By their means the teacher enters into communication +with his pupils; he gets them to speak, he corrects their errors, +trains their reason, and forms their taste. It has been said that +a teacher able to explain selections in prose and poetry "holds +his class in the hollow of his hand." The teacher should insist +that the pupil express himself clearly and correctly, not only +during the reading lesson, but on every subject he has occasion +to deal with, either orally or in writing, throughout the day's +recitations.</p> +<p>REVIEWS.-As the memory of children, though prompt, is weak, +frequent reviews should be held. They are necessary for the +backward pupils and advantageous for the others. Have an informal +talk with the children on what they have read, what they have +learned, what they have liked, and what has interested them. Some +important parts of the prose and poetry previously studied might, +during this exercise, be re-read with profit.</p> +<p>COMPOSITION.-Continue oral and written composition. The +correct use of written language is best taught by selecting for +compositions subject-matter that deeply interests the children. +If persevered in, this will secure a good, strong, idiomatic use +of English. If the words of a selection that has been studied +appear now and then in the children's conversation or writing, it +should be a matter for praise; for this means that new words have +been added to their vocabulary, and that the children have a new +conception of beauty of thought and speech.</p> +<p>See that all written work be done neatly and legibly. Slovenly +or careless habits should never be allowed in any written +work.</p> +<p>MEMORY GEMS.-Do not lose sight of the memory gems. Familiarize +the pupil with them. Their value to the child lies more in future +good resulting from them than in present good. These treasures of +thought will live in the memory and influence the daily lives of +the children who learn them by heart.</p> +<p>THE DICTIONARY.-The use of the dictionary is a necessary part +of education. It is a powerful aid in self-education. Its use +will double the value of study in connection with reading and +language. Every Grammar School, High School and College should be +supplied with several copies of a good unabridged dictionary, and +every pupil taught how to consult it, and encouraged to do so. +The dictionary should be the book of first and last and constant +resort.</p> +<p>USE OF THE LIBRARY.-The teacher should endeavor to create an +interest in those books from which the selections in the Reader +are taken, and in others of equal grade and quality. Encourage +the children to take books from the library. Direct them in their +choice. Encourage home reading. The reading of good books should +be a part of regular school work; otherwise little or no true +progress can be made in speaking and writing. The best way to +learn to speak and write good English is to read good +English.</p> +<p>For additional suggestions as to the best means of teaching +Reading and Language, teachers are referred to Chapters II and +IV, Part IV, of "Elements of Practical Pedagogy," by the +Christian Brothers, and published by the La Salle Bureau of +Supplies, 50 Second Street, New York.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Acknowledgments are gratefully made to the following authors, +publishers, and owners of copyright, who have courteously granted +permission to use the selections which bear their names:</p> +<p>"Mercedes," Miss Eleanor C. Donnelly, Miss Mary Boyle +O'Reilly, Miss Kate Putnam Osgood, Miss P.C. Donnelly, Mrs. +Margaret E. Sangster, Mr. Denis A. McCarthy, Mr. James Whitcomb +Riley, Mr. George Cooper, Mr. J.T. Trowbridge, "Rev. Richard W. +Alexander;" University of Notre Dame; The Ladies' Home Journal; +Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.; The Educational Publishing Co.; +Little, Brown & Co.; The Bobbs-Merrill Co.; P.J. Kenedy & +Sons; The Hinds & Noble Co.; Charles Scribner's Sons.</p> +<p>The selections from Longfellow, Whittier, Holmes, Hawthorne, +Fields, Trowbridge, Phoebe Cary, Charles Dudley Warner, are used +by permission of, and by special arrangement with, Houghton, +Mifflin & Co., publishers of the works of these authors, and +to these gentlemen are tendered expressions of sincere +thanks.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_5_"></a> +<h1>_5_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_1">GUIDE TO PRONUNCIATION</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>NOTE.-This Guide is given to aid the pupil in the use of the +dictionary, and will be found to cover all ordinary cases. In the +diacritical marking, as in accentuation and syllabication, +Webster's International Dictionary has been taken as +authority.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3>VOWELS</h3> +<br> + +<p>(Transcriber's Note: Equivalent sound shown within round brackets.)</p> +[=a] as in gate--g[=a]te<br> +<br> + [^a] as in care--c[^a]re<br> +<br> + [)a] as in cat--c[)a]t<br> +<br> + [.a] as in ask--[.a]sk<br> +<br> + [a.] ([)o]) as in what--wh[a.]t<br> +<br> + [:a] as in car--c[:a]r<br> +<br> + [a:] as in all--[a:]ll<br> +<br> + ai ([^a]) as in air--[^a]ir<br> +<br> + ai ([=a]) as in aim--[=a]im<br> +<br> + au ([:a]) as in aunt--[:a]unt<br> +<br> + [=e] as in eve--[=e]ve<br> +<br> + [)e] as in end--[)e]nd<br> +<br> + [~e] as in her--h[~e]r<br> +<br> + [^e] as in there--th[^e]re<br> +<br> + [e=] ([=a]) as in they--th[e=]y<br> +<br> + ea ([=e]) as in ear--[=e]ar<br> +<br> + ei ([=e]) as in receive--rec[=e]ive<br> +<br> + [=i] as in ice--[=i]ce<br> +<br> + [)i] as in pin--p[)i]n<br> +<br> + [~i] ([~e]) as in bird--b[~i]rd<br> +<br> + [:i] ([=e]) as in police--pol[:i]ce<br> +<br> + i[e=] ([=e]) as in chief--chi[=e]f<br> +<br> + [=o] as in old--[=o]ld<br> +<br> + [^o] as in lord--l[^o]rd<br> +<br> + [)o] as in not--n[)o]t<br> +<br> + [.o] ([)u]) as in son--s[.o]n<br> +<br> + [o.] ([u.]) as in wolf--w[o.]lf<br> +<br> + [o:] ([=oo]) as in do--d[o:]<br> +<br> + oa ([=o]) as in boat--b[=o]at<br> +<br> + [=oo] ([o:]) as in moon--m[=oo]n<br> +<br> + [)oo] ([o.]) as in foot--f[)oo]t<br> +<br> + [=u] as in pure--p[=u]re<br> +<br> + [)u] as in cup--c[)u]p<br> +<br> + [^u] as in burn--b[^u]rn<br> +<br> + [u.] ([o.]) as in full--f[u.]ll<br> +<br> + [u:] as in rude--r[u:]de<br> +<br> + ew ([=u]) as in new<br> +<br> + [=y] ([=i] as in fly--fl[=y]<br> +<br> + [)y] ([)i]) as in hymn--h[)y]mn<br> +<br> + [~y] ([~e]) as in myrrh--m[~y]rrh<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h3>CONSONANTS</h3> +<br> +<br> + c (s) as in cent<br> +<br> + c (k) as in cat<br> +<br> + ce (sh) as in ocean<br> +<br> + ch (k) as in school<br> +<br> + ch (sh) as in machine<br> +<br> + ci (sh) as in gracious<br> +<br> + dg (j) as in edge<br> +<br> + ed (d) as in burned<br> +<br> + ed (t) as in baked<br> +<br> + f (v) as in of<br> +<br> + g (hard) as in get<br> +<br> + g (j) as in gem<br> +<br> + gh (f) as in laugh<br> +<br> + n (ng) as in ink<br> +<br> + ph (f) as in sulphur<br> +<br> + qu (kw) as in queen<br> +<br> + s (z) as in has<br> +<br> + s (sh) as in sure<br> +<br> + s (zh) as in pleasure<br> +<br> + ssi (sh) as in passion<br> +<br> + si (zh) as in occasion<br> +<br> + ti (sh) as in nation<br> +<br> + wh (hw) as in when<br> +<br> + x (z) as in Xavier<br> +<br> + x (ks) as in tax<br> +<br> + x (gz) as in exist<br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_6_"></a> +<h1>_6_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_1">DEFINITIONS</a></h3> +<br> + +<p><b>Language</b> is the expression of thought by means of +words.</p> +<p><b>Words</b>, with respect to their <i>origin</i>, are divided +into <i>primitive</i> and <i>derivative</i>; and with respect to +their <i>composition</i>, into <i>simple</i> and +<i>compound</i>.</p> +<p>A <b>primitive</b> word is one that is not derived from +another word.</p> +<p>A <b>derivative</b> word is one that is formed from another +word by means of prefixes or suffixes, or by some other +change.</p> +<p>A <b>simple</b> word is one that consists of a single +significant term.</p> +<p>A <b>compound</b> word is one made up of two or more simple +words.</p> +<p>A <b>sentence</b> is a combination of words which make +complete sense.</p> +<p>A <b>syllable</b> is a word or a part of a word pronounced by +one effort of the voice.</p> +<br> + +<p>The <b>diaeresis</b> is the mark (<sup><b>..</b></sup>) placed +over the second of two adjacent vowels, to denote that they are +to be pronounced as distinct letters; as +<i>re<b>ë</b>cho</i>.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3>RULES FOR THE USE OF CAPITAL LETTERS</h3> +<br> + +<p>The first word of every <b>sentence</b> should begin with a +capital.</p> +<p><b>Proper names,</b> and words derived from them, should begin +with capitals.</p> +<p>The first word of every <b>line of poetry</b> should begin +with a capital.</p> +<p>All names of God and all titles of the <b>Deity</b>, as well +as all pronouns referring to the Deity, should begin with +capitals.</p> +<p>The words <b>I</b> and <b>O</b> should always be capitals.</p> +<p>The first word of a <b>direct quotation</b> should begin with +a capital.</p> +<p>The names of the <b>days</b> and of the <b>months</b> should +begin with capitals; but not the names of the seasons.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_7_"></a> +<h1>_7_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_1">HYMN TO ST. LA SALLE.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Glorious Patron! low before thee<br> + <span class="c4">Kneel thy sons, with hearts a-flame!</span><br> + And our voices blend in music,<br> + <span class="c4">Singing praises to thy name.</span><br> + <span class="c5">Saint John Baptist! glorious Patron!</span><br> + <span class="c5">Saint La Salle! we sound thy fame.</span><br> +<br> + Lover of our Queen and Mother,<br> + <span class="c4">At her feet didst vow thy heart,</span><br> + Earth, and all its joys, forsaking,<br> + <span class="c4">Thou didst choose the better part.</span><br> + <span class="c5">Saint La Salle, our glorious Father,</span><br> + <span class="c5">Pierce our souls with love's own +dart.</span><br> +<br> + Model of the Christian Teacher!<br> + <span class="c4">Patron of the Christian youth!</span><br> + Lead us all to heights of glory,<br> + <span class="c4">As we strive in earnest ruth.</span><br> + <span class="c5">Saint La Salle! oh, guard and guide +us,</span><br> + <span class="c5">As we spread afar the Truth!</span><br> +<br> + In this life of sin and sorrow,<br> + <span class="c4">Saint La Salle, oh, guide our way,</span><br> + In the hour of dark temptation,<br> + <span class="c4">Father! be our spirit's stay!</span><br> + <span class="c5">Take our hand and lead us homeward,</span><br> + <span class="c5">Saint La Salle, to Heaven's bright +Day!</span><br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p><i>Mercedes.</i></p> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/018.gif" width="321" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<p>ST. JOHN BAPTIST DE LA SALLE. Founder of the Brothers of the +Christian Schools, pointing out the way of salvation to the +children of all nations.</p> +<p>"Christian Teachers are the sculptors of living angels, +moulding and shaping the souls of youth for heaven." <i>Most +Reverend Archbishop Keane, of Dubuque.</i></p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_8_"></a> +<h1>_8_</h1> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>due</td> +<td>mien</td> +<td>fri'ar</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>pri'or</td> +<td>Pa'los</td> +<td>por'ter</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>con'vent</td> +<td>pre'cious</td> +<td> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_1">COLUMBUS AT THE CONVENT.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Dreary and brown the night comes down,<br> + <span class="c4">Gloomy, without a star.</span><br> + On Palos town the night comes down;<br> + The day departs with stormy frown;<br> + <span class="c4">The sad sea moans afar.</span><br> +<br> + A convent gate is near; 'tis late;<br> + <span class="c4">Tin-gling! the bell they ring.</span><br> + They ring the bell, they ask for bread-<br> + "Just for my child," the father said.<br> + <span class="c4">Kind hands the bread will bring.</span><br> +<br> + White was his hair, his mien was fair,<br> + <span class="c4">His look was calm and great.</span><br> + The porter ran and called a friar;<br> + The friar made haste and told the prior;<br> + <span class="c4">The prior came to the gate.</span><br> +<br> + He took them in, he gave them food;<br> + <span class="c4">The traveler's dreams he heard;</span><br> + And fast the midnight moments flew.<br> + And fast the good man's wonder grew,<br> + <span class="c4">And all his heart was stirred.</span><br> +<br> + The child the while, with soft, sweet smile,<br> + <span class="c4">Forgetful of all sorrow,</span><br> + Lay soundly sleeping in his bed.<br> + The good man kissed him there, and said:<br> + <span class="c4">"You leave us not to-morrow!</span><br> +<br> + "I pray you, rest the convent's guest;<br> + <span class="c4">This child shall be our own-</span><br> + A precious care, while you prepare<br> + Your business with the court, and bear<br> + <span class="c4">Your message to the throne."</span><br> +<br> + And so his guest he comforted.<br> + <span class="c4">O wise, good prior! to you,</span><br> + Who cheered the stranger's darkest days,<br> + And helped him on his way, what praise<br> + <span class="c4">And gratitude are due!</span><br> + +<p><i>J.T. Trowbridge.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>By permission of the author.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Where is Palos? What is it noted for?</p> +<p>Who was the "good man" spoken of in the poem?</p> +<p>In the line "The traveler's dreams he heard," who was the +traveler? Relate the story of his dreams. Why are they called +dreams? Did the dreams become facts? In what way?</p> +<p>How did the monks of this convent assist Columbus?</p> +<p>How did the Queen of Spain assist him?</p> +<p>Why is it that in the geography of our country we meet with so +many Catholic names?</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gem:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Press on! There's no such word as fail!<br> + Push nobly on! The goal is near!<br> + Ascend the mountain! Breast the gale!<br> + Look upward, onward,-never fear!<br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/020.gif" width="297" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_9_"></a> +<h1>_9_</h1> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_1">THE LITTLE FERN.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>A great many centuries ago, when the earth was even more +beautiful than it is now, there grew in one of the many valleys a +dainty little fern leaf. All around the tiny plant were many +others, but none of them so graceful and delicate as this one I +tell you of. Every day the cheery breezes sought out their +playmate, and the merry sunbeams darted in and out, playing +hide-and-seek among reeds and rushes; and when the twilight +shadows deepened, and the sunbeams had all gone away, the little +fern curled itself up for the night with only the dewdrops for +company.</p> +<p>So day after day went by: and no one knew of, or found the +sweet wild fern, or the beautiful valley it grew in. But-for this +was a very long time ago-a great change took place in the earth; +and rocks and soil were upturned, and the rivers found new +channels to flow in.</p> +<p>Now, when all this happened, the little fern was quite covered +up with the soft moist clay, and perhaps you think it might as +well never have lived as to have been hidden away where none +could see it.</p> +<p>But after all, it was not really lost; for hundreds of years +afterwards, when all that clay had become stone, and had broken +into many fragments, a very wise and learned man found the bit of +rock upon which was all the delicate tracery of the little fern +leaf, with outline just as perfect and lovely as when, long, long +ago it had swayed to the breezes in its own beautiful valley.</p> +<p>And so wonderful did it seem to the wise man, that he took the +fern leaf home with him and placed it in his cabinet where all +could admire it; and where, if they were thoughtful and clever +enough, they could think out the story for themselves and find +the lesson which was hidden away with the fern in the bit of +rock.</p> +<p>Lesson! did I say? Well, let's not call it a lesson, but only +a truth which it will do every one of us good to remember; and +that is, that none of the beauty in this fair world around us, +nor anything that is sweet and lovely in our own hearts, and +lives, will ever be useless and lost. For, as the little fern +leaf lay hidden away for years and years, and yet finally was +found by the wise man and given a place with his other rare and +precious possessions where it could still, though silently, aid +those who looked upon it; so we, as boys and girls, men and women +who are to be, can now, day by day, cultivate all lovely traits +of character, making ourselves ready to take our place in the +world's work. And when that time comes we shall not only be able +to aid others silently, as did the little fern, but may also, by +word and deed, lend a hand to each and every one around us.</p> +<p><i>Mara L. Pratt.</i></p> +<p>From "Fairyland of Flowers." The Educational Publishing +Co.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Break up the following words into their syllables, and place +the accent mark where it belongs in each:</p> +<p>outline, tracery, cabinet, delicate, finally, character, +hundreds, centuries, remember, beautiful, possessions. Show the +correct use of the words in original sentences. The dictionary +will help you in the work.</p> +<p>Name some of the traits of character that will help a boy or a +girl to be truly successful in life.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gems:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>The child is father of the man;<br> + And I could wish my days to be<br> + Bound each to each by natural piety.<br> + +<p><i>Wordsworth</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<p>Truth alone makes life rich and great.</p> +<p><i>Emerson</i>.</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>There is a tongue in every leaf-<br> + <span class="c4">A voice in every rill-</span><br> + A voice that speaketh everywhere-<br> + In flood and fire, through earth and air,<br> + <span class="c4">A tongue that's never still.</span><br> + +<p><i>Anon</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_10_"></a> +<h1>_10_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>blithe</td> +<td>whistler</td> +<td>mellow</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>replied</td> +<td>cheery</td> +<td>skylark</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_1">HELPING MOTHER.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>As I went down the street to-day,<br> + <span class="c4">I saw a little lad</span><br> + Whose face was just the kind of face<br> + <span class="c4">To make a person glad.</span><br> + It was so plump and rosy-cheeked,<br> + <span class="c4">So cheerful and so bright,</span><br> + It made me think of apple-time.<br> + <span class="c4">And filled me with delight.</span><br> +<br> + I saw him busy at his work,<br> + <span class="c4">While blithe as skylark's song</span><br> + His merry, mellow whistle rang<br> + <span class="c4">The pleasant street along.</span><br> + "Oh, that's the kind of lad I like!"<br> + <span class="c4">I thought as I passed by;</span><br> + "These busy, cheery, whistling boys<br> + <span class="c4">Make grand men by and by."</span><br> +<br> + Just then a playmate came along,<br> + <span class="c4">And leaned across the gate-</span><br> + A plan that promised lots of fun<br> + <span class="c4">And frolic to relate.</span><br> + "The boys are waiting for us now,<br> + <span class="c4">So hurry up!" he cried;</span><br> + My little whistler shook his head,<br> + <span class="c4">And "Can't come," he replied.</span><br> +<br> + "Can't come? Why not, I'd like to know?<br> + <span class="c4">What hinders?" asked the other.</span><br> + "Why, don't you see," came the reply,<br> + <span class="c4">"I'm busy helping mother?</span><br> + She's lots to do, and so I like<br> + <span class="c4">To help her all I can;</span><br> + So I've no time for fun just now,"<br> + <span class="c4">Said this dear little man.</span><br> +<br> + "I like to hear you talk like that,"<br> + <span class="c4">I told the little lad;</span><br> + "Help mother all you can, and make<br> + <span class="c4">Her kind heart light and glad."</span><br> + It does me good to think of him,<br> + <span class="c4">And know that there are others</span><br> + Who, like this manly little boy,<br> + <span class="c4">Take hold and help their mothers.</span><br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<p>LANGUAGE WORK:</p> +<br> + +<p>Describe the little lad spoken of in the poem. Do you know any +boy like him?</p> +<p>Tell what this "little man" said to his playmate.</p> +<p>When night came, was the boy sorry that he had missed so much +fun? What kind of man did he very likely grow up to be?</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_11_"></a> +<h1>_11_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>rid' dle</td> +<td>brand'-new</td> +<td>mys' ter y</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>un rav' el</td> +<td>like' ness es</td> +<td> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_2">A CONTENTED WORKMAN.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>Once upon a time, Frederick, King of Prussia, surnamed "Old +Fritz," took a ride, and saw an old laborer plowing his land by +the wayside cheerily singing his song.</p> +<p>"You must be well off, old man," said the king. "Does this +land on which you are working so hard belong to you?"</p> +<p>"No, sir," replied the laborer, who knew not that it was the +king; "I am not so rich as that; I plow for wages."</p> +<p>"How much do you get a day?" asked the king.</p> +<p>"Two dollars," said the laborer.</p> +<p>"That is not much," replied the king; "can you get along with +that?"</p> +<p>"Yes; and have something left."</p> +<p>"How is that?"</p> +<p>The laborer smiled, and said, "Well, if I must tell you, fifty +cents are for myself and wife; with fifty I pay my old debts, +fifty I lend, and fifty I give away for the Lord's sake."</p> +<p>"That is a mystery which I cannot solve," replied the +king.</p> +<p>"Then I will solve it for you," said the laborer. "I have two +old parents at home, who kept me when I was weak and needed help; +and now, that they are weak and need help, I keep them. This is +my debt, towards which I pay fifty cents a day. The third fifty +cents, which I lend, I spend for my children, that they may +receive Christian instruction. This will come handy to me and my +wife when we get old. With the last fifty I maintain two sick +sisters. This I give for the Lord's sake."</p> +<p>The king, well pleased with his answer, said, "Bravely spoken, +old man. Now I will also give you something to guess. Have you +ever seen me before?"</p> +<p>"Never," said the laborer.</p> +<p>"In less than five minutes you shall see me fifty times, and +carry in your pocket fifty of my likenesses."</p> +<p>"That is a riddle which I cannot unravel," said the +laborer.</p> +<p>"Then I will do it for you," replied the king. Thrusting his +hand into his pocket, and counting fifty brand-new gold pieces +into his hand, stamped with his royal likeness, he said to the +astonished laborer, who knew not what was coming, "The coin is +good, for it also comes from our Lord God, and I am his +paymaster. I bid you good-day."</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gems:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>The working men, whatever their task,<br> + <span class="c4">Who carve the stone, or bear the +hod,</span><br> + They wear upon their honest brows<br> + <span class="c4">The royal stamp and seal of God;</span><br> + And worthier are their drops of sweat<br> + <span class="c4">Than diamonds in a coronet.</span><br> +<br> + Give fools their gold, and knaves their power;<br> + <span class="c4">Let fortune's bubbles rise and fall;</span><br> + Who sows a field, or trains a flower,<br> + <span class="c4">Or plants a tree, is more than all.</span><br> + +<p><i>Whittier</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/028.gif" width="530" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> + +<p>LABOR <i>Millet</i>.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_12_"></a> +<h1>_12_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>con' script</td> +<td>in dis pen' sa ble</td> +<td>im' ple ment</td> +<td>in de fea' si bly</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_2">TWO LABORERS.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>Two men I honor, and no third. First, the toil worn craftsman, +that with earth-made implement laboriously conquers the earth, +and makes her man's. Venerable to me is the hard hand, crooked, +coarse, wherein, notwithstanding, lies a cunning virtue, +indefeasibly royal, as of the scepter of this planet. Venerable, +too, is the rugged face, all weather tanned, besoiled, with its +rude intelligence; for it is the face of a man living +manlike.</p> +<p>Oh, but the more venerable for thy rudeness, and even because +I must pity as well as love thee! Hardly entreated brother! For +us was thy back so bent, for us were thy straight limbs and +fingers so deformed. Thou wert our conscript on whom the lot fell +and, fighting our battles, wert so marred. Yet toil on, toil on; +... thou toilest for the altogether indispensable,-for daily +bread.</p> +<p>A second man I honor, and still more highly; him who is seen +toiling for the spiritually indispensable; not daily bread, but +the bread of life. Is not he, too, in his duty; endeavoring +towards inward harmony; revealing this, by act or word, through +all his outward endeavors, be they high or low? Highest of all, +when his outward and his inward endeavor are one; when we can +name him artist; not earthly craftsman only, but inspired +thinker, that with heaven-made implement conquers heaven for +us!</p> +<p>If the poor and humble toil that we may have food, must not +the high and glorious toil for him, in return, that he may have +light and guidance, freedom, immortality?-these two, in all their +degrees, I honor; all else is chaff and dust, which let the wind +blow whither it listeth.</p> +<p>Unspeakably touching it is, however, when I find both +dignities united; and he, that must toil outwardly for the lowest +of man's wants, is also toiling inwardly for the highest. +Sublimer in this world know I nothing than a peasant saint. Such +a one will take thee back to Nazareth itself; thou wilt see the +splendor of heaven spring forth from the humblest depths of earth +like a light shining in great darkness.</p> +<p><i>Thomas Carlyle.</i></p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Laws are like cobwebs, where the small flies are caught, and +the great break through.</p> +<p><i>Bacon</i>.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_13_"></a> +<h1>_13_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>gust</td> +<td>thief</td> +<td>mop' ing</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>awk' ward</td> +<td>pet' tish ly</td> +<td>in dig' nant</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>un bear' a ble</td> +<td>med' dle some</td> +<td>en light' ened</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> </td> +<td>in quis' i tive</td> +<td> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_2">THE GRUMBLING PUSS.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>"What's the matter?" said Growler to the gray cat, as she sat +moping on the top of the garden wall.</p> +<p>"Matter enough," said the cat, turning her head another way, +"Our cook is very fond of talking of hanging me. I wish heartily +some one would hang <i>her</i>."</p> +<p>"Why, what <i>is</i> the matter?" repeated Growler.</p> +<p>"Hasn't she beaten me, and called me a thief, and threatened +to be the death of me?"</p> +<p>"Dear, dear!" said Growler; "pray what has brought it +about?"</p> +<p>"Oh, nothing at all; it is her temper. All the servants +complain of it. I wonder they haven't hanged her long ago."</p> +<p>"Well, you see," said Growler, "cooks are awkward things to +hang; you and I might be managed much more easily."</p> +<p>"Not a drop of milk have I had this day!" said the gray cat; +"and such a pain in my side!"</p> +<p>"But what," said Growler, "what is the cause?"</p> +<p>"Haven't I told you?" said the gray cat, pettishly; "it's her +temper:-oh, what I have had to suffer from it! Everything she +breaks she lays to me; everything that is stolen she lays to me. +Really, it is quite unbearable!"</p> +<p>Growler was quite indignant; but, being of a reflective turn, +after the first gust of wrath had passed, he asked: "But was +there no particular cause this morning?"</p> +<p>"She chose to be very angry because I-I offended her," said +the cat.</p> +<p>"How, may I ask?" gently inquired Growler.</p> +<p>"Oh, nothing worth telling,-a mere mistake of mine."</p> +<p>Growler looked at her with such a questioning expression, that +she was compelled to say, "I took the wrong thing for my +breakfast."</p> +<p>"Oh!" said Growler, much enlightened.</p> +<p>"Why, the fact is," said the gray cat, "I was springing at a +mouse, and knocked down a dish, and, not knowing exactly what it +was, I smelt it, and it was rather nice, and-"</p> +<p>"You finished it," hinted Growler.</p> +<p>"Well, I believe I should have done so, if that meddlesome +cook hadn't come in. As it was, I left the head."</p> +<p>"The head of what?" said Growler.</p> +<p>"How inquisitive you are!" said the gray cat.</p> +<p>"Nay, but I should like to know," said Growler.</p> +<p>"Well, then, of a certain fine fish that was meant for +dinner."</p> +<p>"Then," said Growler, "say what you please; but, now that I've +heard the whole story, I only wonder she did <i>not</i> hang +you."</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Fill the following blanks with words that will make complete +sentences:</p> +<p>Mary - here, and Susan and Agnes - coming. They - delayed on +the road. Mother - to come with them, but she and father - +obliged to wait till to-morrow.</p> +<p>Puss said to Growler, "I - not - a drop of milk to-day, and - +not - any yesterday."</p> +<p>I - my work well now. Yesterday I - it fairly well. To-morrow +I shall - it perfectly.</p> +<p>The boys - their best, though they - the game.</p> +<p>John-now the boys he - last week. He - not - them before.</p> +<br> + +<p>NOTE.-Let two pupils read or recite the conversational parts +of this selection, omitting the explanatory matter, while the +other pupils simply listen. If done with expressive feeling and +in a perfectly natural tone, it will prove quite an interesting +exercise. To play or act the story of a selection helps to +develop the imagination.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_14_"></a> +<h1>_14_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>scared</td> +<td>swerve</td> +<td>gur' gle</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>rip' ples</td> +<td>cur' rent</td> +<td>mum' bling ly</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_2">THE BROOK SONG.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Little brook! Little brook!<br> + You have such a happy look-<br> + Such a very merry manner, as you swerve and curve and crook-<br> + And your ripples, one and one,<br> + Reach each other's hands and run<br> + Like laughing little children in the sun!<br> +<br> + Little brook, sing to me;<br> + Sing about the bumblebee<br> + That tumbled from a lily bell and grumbled mumblingly,<br> + Because he wet the film<br> + Of his wings, and had to swim,<br> + While the water bugs raced round and laughed at him.<br> +<br> + Little brook-sing a song<br> + Of a leaf that sailed along<br> + Down the golden-hearted center of your current swift and +strong,<br> + And a dragon fly that lit<br> + On the tilting rim of it,<br> + And rode away and wasn't scared a bit.<br> +<br> + And sing-how oft in glee<br> + Came a truant boy like me,<br> + Who loved to lean and listen to your lilting melody,<br> + Till the gurgle and refrain<br> + Of your music in his brain<br> + Wrought a happiness as keen to him as pain.<br> +<br> + Little brook-laugh and leap!<br> + Do not let the dreamer weep:<br> + Sing him all the songs of summer till he sink in softest +sleep;<br> + And then sing soft and low<br> + Through his dreams of long ago-<br> + Sing back to him the rest he used to know!<br> + +<p><i>James Whitcomb Riley</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>From "Rhymes of Childhood." Used by special permission of the +publishers, The Bobbs-Merrill Co. Copyright, 1900.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/036.gif" width="310" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> + +<p>BY THE BROOK</p> +<br> + +<p><b>ripples</b>, little curling waves <b>film</b>, a thin skin +or slight covering.</p> +<p><b>current</b>, the swiftest part of a stream; also applied to +<i>air, electricity</i>, etc.</p> +<p>What do the following expressions mean: tilting rim, lilting +melody, softest sleep, gurgle and refrain, a happiness as keen to +him as pain?</p> +<p>What is a lullaby? Recite a stanza of one.</p> +<p>Insert <i>may</i> or <i>can</i> properly where you see a dash +in the following: The boy said, "-I leave the room?" "Mother, +I-climb the ladder;-I?"-a dog climb a tree?-I ask a favor?</p> +<p>Copy the following words-they are often misspelled: loving, +using, till, until, queer, fulfil, speech, muscle, quite, scheme, +success, barely, college, villain, salary, visitor, remedy, +hurried, forty-four, enemies, twelfth, marriage, immense, +exhaust.</p> +<p>By means of the suffixes, <i>er, est, ness</i>, form three new +words from each of the following words: happy, sleepy, lively, +greedy, steady, lovely, gloomy.</p> +<p>Example: From happy,-happier, happiest, happiness. Note the +change of <i>y</i> to <i>i</i>.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_15_"></a> +<h1>_15_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>rag'ged</td> +<td>crin'kly</td> +<td>rub'bish</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>fil'tered</td> +<td>protect'ed</td> +<td>disor'derly</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>disturbed'</td> +<td>imme'diately</td> +<td> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_2">THE STORY OF THE SEED-DOWN.</a></h3> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>I.</h2> +<br> + +<p>High above the earth, over land and sea, floated the +seed-down, borne on the autumn wind's strong arms.</p> +<p>"Here shall you lie, little seed-down," said he at last, and +put it down on the ground, and laid a fallen leaf over it. Then +he flew away immediately, because he had much to look after.</p> +<p>That was in the dark evening, and the seed could not see where +it was placed, and besides, the leaf covered it.</p> +<p>Something heavy came now, and pressed so hard that the seed +came near being destroyed; but the leaf, weak though it was, +protected it.</p> +<p>It was a human foot which walked along over the ground, and +pressed the downy seed into the earth. When the foot was +withdrawn, the earth fell, and filled the little pit it had +made.</p> +<p>The cold came, and the snow fell several feet deep; but the +seed lay quietly down there, waiting for warmth and light. When +the spring came, and the snow melted away, the plant shot up out +of the earth.</p> +<p>There was a little gray cottage beside which it grew up. The +tiny plant could not see very far around, because rubbish and +brush-heaps lay near it, and the little window was so gray and +dusty that it could not peep into the cottage either.</p> +<p>"Who lives here?" asked the little thing.</p> +<p>"Don't you know that?" asked the ragged shoe, which lay near. +"Why, the smith who drinks so much lives here, and his wife who +wore me out."</p> +<p>And then she told how it looked inside, how life went on +there, and it was not cheering; no, but fearfully sad. The shoe +knew it all well, and told a whole lot in a few minutes, because +she had such a well-hung tongue.</p> +<p>Now there came a pair of ragged children, running-the smith's +boy and girl; he was six years old and the girl eight, so the +shoe said, after they were gone.</p> +<p>"Oh, see, what a pretty little plant!" said the girl. "So now, +I shall pull it up," said the boy, and the plant trembled to the +root's heart.</p> +<p>"No, do not do it!" said the girl. "We must let it grow. Do +you not see what pretty crinkly leaves it has? It will have +lovely flowers, I know, when it grows bigger."</p> +<p>And it was allowed to stay there. The children took a stick +and dug up the earth round about, so it looked like a plowed +field. Then they threw the shoe and the sweepings a little way +off, because they thought to make the place look better.</p> +<p>"You cannot think," said the shoe, after the children had +gone, "you cannot think how in the way folks are!"</p> +<p>"The children have to give themselves airs, and pretend to be +very orderly," said the half of a coffee-cup; and she broke in +another place she was so disturbed.</p> +<p>But the sun shone warmly and the rain filtered down in the +upturned earth. Then leaf after leaf unfolded, and in a few days +the plant was several inches high.</p> +<p>"Oh, see!" said the children, who came again; "see how +beautiful it is getting!"</p> +<p>"Come, father, come! brother and I have discovered such a +pretty plant! Come and see it!" begged the girl.</p> +<p>The father glanced at it. The plant looked so lovely on the +little rough bit of soil which lay between the piles of +sweepings.</p> +<p>The smith nodded to the children.</p> +<p>"It looks very disorderly here," he said to himself, and +stopped an instant. "Yes, indeed, it does!" He went along, but +thought of the little green spot, with the lovely plant in the +midst of it.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>II.</h2> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>pet' als</td> +<td>in' mates</td> +<td>scrubbed</td> +<td>fra' grant</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<p>The children ran into the house.</p> +<p>"Mother," said they, "there is such a rare plant growing right +by the window!"</p> +<p>The mother wished to glance out, but the window was so thick +with dust that she could not do so. She wiped off a little +spot.</p> +<p>"My! My!" said she, when she noticed how dirty the window +looked beside the cleaned spot; so she wiped the whole +window.</p> +<p>"That is an odd plant," said she, looking at it. "But how +dreadfully dirty it is out in the yard!"</p> +<p>Now that the sun shone in through the window it became very +light in the cottage. The mother looked at the ragged children +and at the rubbish in the room, and the blood rushed over her +pale cheeks.</p> +<p>"It is a perfect shame!" she murmured. "I have never noticed +that it was so untidy here."</p> +<p>She hurried around, and set the room to rights, and, when that +was done, she washed the dirty floor. She scrubbed it so hard +that her hands smarted as if she had burned them in the fire; she +did not stop until every spot was white.</p> +<p>It was evening; the husband came home from work. The wife sat +mending the girl's ragged dress. The man stopped in the door. It +looked so strange to him within, and the look his wife gave him +was brighter than ever before, he thought.</p> +<p>"Go-God's peace!" he stammered. It was a long time since such +a greeting had been heard in here.</p> +<p>"God's peace!" answered she; "wel-welcome home!" She had not +said this for many years.</p> +<p>The smith stepped forward to the window; on the bed beside it +the two children lay sleeping. He looked at them, then he looked +out on the mound where the little plant stood. After a few +minutes he went out.</p> +<p>A deep sigh rose from the woman's breast. She had hoped that +he would stay home that evening. Two great tears fell on the +little dress.</p> +<p>In a few minutes she heard a noise outside. She went to the +window to see what it could be. Her husband had not gone away! He +was out in the yard clearing up the brush-heaps and rubbish.</p> +<p>She became more happy than she had been for a long time. He +glanced in through the window and saw her. Then she nodded, he +nodded back, and they both smiled.</p> +<p>"Be careful, above all, of the little plant!" said she.</p> +<p>Warm and sunny days came. The smith stayed at home now every +evening. It was green and lovely round the little cottage, and +outside the window there was a whole flower-bed, with many +blossoms; but in the midst stood the little plant the autumn wind +had brought thither.</p> +<p>The smith's family stood around the flower-bed, and talked +about the flowers.</p> +<p>"But the plant that brother and I found is the most beautiful +of all," said the girl.</p> +<p>"Yes, indeed it is," said the parents.</p> +<p>The smith bent down and took one of the leaves in his hand, +but very carefully, because he was afraid he might hurt it with +his thick, coarse fingers.</p> +<p>Then a bell was heard ringing in the distance. The sound +floated out over field and lake, and rang so peacefully in the +eventide, just as the sun sank behind the tree-tops in the +forest. And every one bowed the head, because it was Saturday +evening, and it was a sacred voice that sounded.</p> +<p>In a little while all was silent in the cottage; the inmates +slumbered, more tired, perhaps, than before, after the week's +toils, but also much, much happier. And round about, all was calm +and peaceful.</p> +<p>But when Sunday's sun came up, the plant opened its bud,-and +it bore but a single one. When the cottage folks passed the +little flower-garden, they all stopped and looked at the +beautiful, fragrant blossom.</p> +<p>"It shall go with us to the house of God," said the wife, +turning to her husband. He nodded, and then she broke off the +flower. The wife looked at the husband, and he looked at her, and +then their eyes rested on both children; then their eyes grew +dim, but became immediately bright again, for the tears were not +of sorrow, but of happiness.</p> +<p>When the organ's tones swelled and the people sang in the +temple, the flower folded its petals, for it had fulfilled its +mission; but on the waves of song its perfume floated upwards. +And in the sweet fragrance lay a warm thanksgiving from the +little seed-down.</p> +<br> + +<p>From "My Lady Legend," translated from the Swedish by Miss +Rydingsvärd.</p> +<p>Used by the special permission of the publishers, Lothrop, Lee +& Shepard Co.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gem:</p> +<p>I want it to be said of me by those who know me best that I +have always plucked a thistle and planted a flower in its place +wherever a flower would grow.</p> +<p><i>Abraham Lincoln.</i></p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_16_"></a> +<h1>_16_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>lux'u ry</td> +<td>med'i cine</td> +<td>a bun'dant</td> +<td>wil'der ness</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_2">THE USE OF FLOWERS.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>God might have bade the earth bring forth<br> + <span class="c4">Enough for great and small,</span><br> + The oak tree, and the cedar tree,<br> + <span class="c4">Without a flower at all.</span><br> +<br> + He might have made enough, enough,<br> + <span class="c4">For every want of ours;</span><br> + For luxury, medicine, and toil,<br> + <span class="c4">And yet have made no flowers.</span><br> +<br> + The ore within the mountain mine<br> + <span class="c4">Requireth none to grow,</span><br> + Nor doth it need the lotus flower<br> + <span class="c4">To make the river flow.</span><br> +<br> + The clouds might give abundant rain,<br> + <span class="c4">The nightly dews might fall,</span><br> + And the herb that keepeth life in man<br> + <span class="c4">Might yet have drunk them all.</span><br> +<br> + Then wherefore, wherefore were they made<br> + <span class="c4">All dyed with rainbow light,</span><br> + All fashioned with supremest grace,<br> + <span class="c4">Upspringing day and night-</span><br> +<br> + Springing in valleys green and low,<br> + <span class="c4">And on the mountains high,</span><br> + And in the silent wilderness,<br> + <span class="c4">Where no man passeth by?</span><br> +<br> + Our outward life requires them not,<br> + <span class="c4">Then wherefore had they birth?</span><br> + To minister delight to man,<br> + <span class="c4">To beautify the earth;</span><br> +<br> + To whisper hope-to comfort man<br> + <span class="c4">Whene'er his faith is dim;</span><br> + For whoso careth for the flowers<br> + <span class="c4">Will care much more for Him!</span><br> + +<p><i>Mary Howitt.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Give the plural forms of the following name-words: tree, leaf, +copy, foot, shoe, calf, life, child, tooth, valley.</p> +<p>Insert the proper punctuation marks in the following +stanza:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>In the country on every side<br> + <span class="c4">Where far and wide</span><br> + Like a leopard's tawny hide<br> + <span class="c4">Stretches the plain</span><br> + To the dry grass and drier grain<br> + How welcome is the rain.<br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>Memory Gem:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Full many a gem of purest ray serene<br> + <span class="c4">The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean +bear;</span><br> + Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,<br> + <span class="c4">And waste its sweetness on the desert +air.</span><br> + +<p><i>Stanza from Gray's "Elegy."</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_17_"></a> +<h1>_17_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>deigned</td> +<td>in' va lid</td> +<td>lone' li ness</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>smoothed</td> +<td>med'i cine</td> +<td>be wil'dered</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>gen' ius</td> +<td>riv' et ed</td> +<td>soul-sub du' ing</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_2">PIERRE'S LITTLE SONG.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>In a humble room, in one of the poorer streets of London, +little Pierre, a fatherless French boy, sat humming by the +bedside of his sick mother. There was no bread in the house; and +he had not tasted food all day. Yet he sat humming to keep up his +spirits.</p> +<p>Still, at times, he thought of his loneliness and hunger, and +he could scarcely keep the tears from his eyes; for he knew that +nothing would be so welcome to his poor invalid mother as a good +sweet orange; and yet he had not a penny in the world.</p> +<p>The little song he was singing was his own,-one he had +composed, both air and words; for the child was a genius. He went +to the window, and, looking out, saw a man putting up a great +poster with yellow letters, announcing that Madame Malibran would +sing that night in public.</p> +<p>"Oh, if I could only go!" thought little Pierre; and then, +pausing a moment, he clasped his hands; his eyes sparkled with a +new hope. Running to the looking-glass, he smoothed his yellow +curls, and, taking from a little box an old, stained paper, he +gave one eager glance at his mother, who slept, and ran speedily +from the house.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> + +<p>"Who, do you say, is waiting for me?" said the lady to her +servant. "I am already worn out with company."</p> +<p>"Only a very pretty little boy, with yellow curls, who says +that if he can just see you, he is sure you will not be sorry, +and he will not keep you a moment."</p> +<p>"Oh, well, let him come!" said the beautiful singer, with a +smile; "I can never refuse children."</p> +<p>Little Pierre came in, his hat under his arm; and in his hand +a little roll of paper. With a manliness unusual in a child, he +walked straight up to the lady, and, bowing, said: "I have come +to see you, because my mother is very sick, and we are too poor +to get food and medicine. I thought that, perhaps, if you would +only sing my little song at one of your grand concerts, some +publisher might buy it, for a small sum; and so I could get food +and medicine for my mother."</p> +<p>The beautiful woman rose from her seat; very tall and stately +she was;-she took the little roll from his hand, and lightly +hummed the air.</p> +<p>"Did you compose it?" she asked,-"you, a child! And the +words?-Would you like to come to my concert?" she asked, after a +few moments of thought.</p> +<p>"Oh, yes!" and the boy's eyes grew bright with happiness; "but +I couldn't leave my mother."</p> +<p>"I will send somebody to take care of your mother for the +evening; and here is a crown, with which you may go and get food +and medicine. Here is also one of my tickets; come to-night; and +that will admit you to a seat near me."</p> +<p>Almost beside himself with joy, Pierre bought some oranges, +and many a little luxury besides, and carried them home to the +poor invalid, telling her, not without tears, of his good +fortune.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> + +<p>When evening came, and Pierre was admitted to the concert +hall, he felt that never in his life had he been in so grand a +place. The music, the glare of lights, the beauty, the flashing +of diamonds and the rustling of silks, completely bewildered him. +At last <i>she</i> came; and the child sat with his eyes riveted +on her face. Could it be that the grand lady, glittering with +jewels, and whom everybody seemed to worship, would really sing +his little song?</p> +<p>Breathless he waited:-the band, the whole band, struck up a +little plaintive melody: he knew it, and clapped his hands for +joy! And oh, how she sang it! It was so simple, so mournful, so +soul-subduing. Many a bright eye was dimmed with tears, many a +heart was moved, by the touching words of that little song.</p> +<p>Pierre walked home as if he were moving on the air. What cared +he for money now? The greatest singer in Europe had sung his +little song, and thousands had wept at his grief.</p> +<p>The next day he was frightened by a visit from Madame +Malibran. She laid her hand on his yellow curls, and, turning to +the sick woman, said: "Your little boy, madam, has brought you a +fortune. I was offered, this morning, by the first publisher in +London, a large sum for his little song. Madam, thank God that +your son has a gift from heaven."</p> +<p>The noble-hearted singer and the poor woman wept together. As +for Pierre, always mindful of Him who watches over the tried and +the tempted, he knelt down by his mother's bedside and uttered a +simple prayer, asking God's blessing on the kind lady who had +deigned to notice their affliction.</p> +<p>The memory of that prayer made the singer even more +tender-hearted; and she now went about doing good. And on her +early death, he who stood by her bed, and smoothed her pillow, +and lightened her last moments by his affection, was the little +Pierre of former days,-now rich, accomplished, and one of the +most talented composers of the day.</p> +<p>All honor to those great hearts who, from their high stations, +send down bounty to the widow and the fatherless!</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>Pierre</b> (pe [^a]r'), Peter.</p> +<p><b>Malibran</b>, a French singer and actress. She died in +1836, when only 28 years old.</p> +<p>What does "he walked as if moving on air" mean?</p> +<p><b>breathless</b> = <i>breath</i>+<i>less</i>, without breath, +out of breath; holding the breath on account of great +interest.</p> +<p><b>breathlessly</b>, in a breathless manner. Use <i>breath, +breathless, breathlessly,</i> in sentences of your own.</p> +<p>Pronounce separately the two similar consonant sounds coming +together in the following words and phrases:</p> +<p>humming; meanness; is sure; his spirit; send down; this shows; +eyes sparkled; wept together; frequent trials.</p> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gems:</p> +<p>A single sunbeam is enough to drive away many shadows.</p> +<p><i>St. Francis of Assisi.</i></p> +<br> + +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Howe'er it be, it seems to me,<br> + <span class="c4">'Tis only noble to be good.</span><br> + Kind hearts are more than coronets,<br> + <span class="c4">And simple faith than Norman blood.</span><br> + +<p><i>Tennyson</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_18_"></a> +<h1>_18_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_2">SEPTEMBER.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>The golden-rod is yellow;<br> + <span class="c4">The corn is turning brown;</span><br> + The trees in apple orchards<br> + <span class="c4">With fruit are bending down.</span><br> +<br> + The gentian's bluest fringes<br> + <span class="c4">Are curling in the sun;</span><br> + In dusty pods the milkweed<br> + <span class="c4">Its hidden silk has spun.</span><br> +<br> + The sedges flaunt their harvest<br> + <span class="c4">In every meadow nook;</span><br> + And asters by the brookside<br> + <span class="c4">Make asters in the brook.</span><br> +<br> + From dewy lanes at morning<br> + <span class="c4">The grapes' sweet odors rise;</span><br> + At noon the roads all flutter<br> + <span class="c4">With yellow butterflies.</span><br> +<br> + By all these lovely tokens<br> + <span class="c4">September days are here,</span><br> + With summer's best of weather,<br> + <span class="c4">And autumn's best of cheer.</span><br> + +<p><i>Helen Hunt Jackson.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<p>[Footnote: Copyright, Little, Brown & Co., +Publishers.]</p> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/053.gif" width="383" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> + +<p>sedges, coarse grasses which grow in marshy places.</p> +<p>Tell what the following expressions mean: dewy lanes; best of +cheer; sedges flaunt their harvest.</p> +<p>How do "Asters by the brookside make asters in the brook"?</p> +<p>Give in your own words the tokens of September mentioned in +the poem. Can you name any others?</p> +<p>Memorize the poem. What do you know of the author?</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_19_"></a> +<h1>_19_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>tat'ter</td> +<td>wreathed</td> +<td>Ken tuck' y</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>de scend'ed</td> +<td>re cess'</td> +<td>home' stead</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>en rap' tured</td> +<td>Penn syl va' ni a</td> +<td> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_2">"MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME."</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>"My Old Kentucky Home" was written by Stephen Collins Foster, +a resident of Pittsburg, Pa., while he and his sister were on a +visit to his relative, Judge John Rowan, a short distance east of +Bardstown, Ky. One beautiful morning while the slaves were at +work in the cornfield and the sun was shining with a mighty +splendor on the waving grass, first giving it a light red, then +changing it to a golden hue, there were seated upon a bench in +front of the Rowan homestead two young people, a brother and a +sister.</p> +<p>High up in the top of a tree was a mocking bird warbling its +sweet notes. Over in a hidden recess of a small brush, the +thrush's mellow song could be heard. A number of small negro +children were playing not far away. When Foster had finished the +first verse of the song his sister took it from his hand and sang +in a sweet, mellow voice:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>The sun shines bright on the old Kentucky home;<br> + <span class="c4">'Tis summer, the darkies are gay;</span><br> + The corn top's ripe and the meadows in the bloom,<br> + <span class="c4">While the birds make music all the +day.</span><br> +<br> + The young folks roll on the little cabin floor,<br> + <span class="c4">All merry, all happy, all bright;</span><br> + By'n by hard times comes a-knockin' at the door-<br> + <span class="c4">Then, my old Kentucky home, good +night.</span><br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<p>On her finishing the first verse the mocking bird descended to +a lower branch. The feathery songster drew his head to one side +and appeared to be completely enraptured at the wonderful voice +of the young singer. When the last note died away upon the air, +her fond brother sang in deep bass voice:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Weep no more, my lady; oh, weep no more to-day,<br> + <span class="c4">Well sing one song for the old Kentucky +home,</span><br> + For our old Kentucky home far away.<br> +<br> + A few more days for to tote the weary load,<br> + <span class="c4">No matter, 'twill never be light;</span><br> + A few more days till we totter on the road-<br> + <span class="c4">Then, my old Kentucky home, good +night.</span><br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>The negroes had laid down their hoes and rakes; the little +tots had placed themselves behind the large, sheltering trees, +while the old black women were peeping around the corner of the +house. The faithful old house dog never took his eyes off the +young singers. Everything was still; not even the stirring of the +leaves seemed to break the wonderful silence.</p> +<p>Again the brother and sister took hold of the remaining notes, +and sang in sweet accents:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>They hunt no more for the 'possum and the coon<br> + <span class="c4">On the meadow, the hill and the +shore;</span><br> + They sing no more by the glimmer of the moon,<br> + <span class="c4">On the bench by the old cabin door.</span><br> +<br> + The day goes by like a shadow o'er the heart,<br> + <span class="c4">With sorrow where all was delight:</span><br> + The time has come when the darkies have to part-<br> + <span class="c4">Then, my old Kentucky home, good +night.</span><br> +<br> + The head must bow and the back will have to bend<br> + <span class="c4">Wherever the darkies may go;</span><br> + A few more days and the trouble all will end<br> + <span class="c4">In the fields where the sugar cane +grow.</span><br> +<br> + Then weep no more, my lady; oh, weep no more to-day,<br> + <span class="c4">We'll sing one song for the old Kentucky +home,</span><br> + For our old Kentucky home far away.<br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>As the song was finished tears flowed down the old people's +cheeks; the children crept from their hiding place behind the +trees, their faces wreathed in smiles. The mocking bird and the +thrush sought their home in the thicket, while the old house dog +still lay basking in the sun.</p> +<br> + +<p><i>Mrs. T.A. Sherrard</i></p> +<br> + +<p>Louisville <i>Courier-Journal.</i></p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_20_"></a> +<h1>_20_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>stew' ard</td> +<td>se'quel</td> +<td>Gal'i lee</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>ab lu' tions</td> +<td>in ter ces' sion</td> +<td> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_2">THE FIRST MIRACLE OF JESUS.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>In the first year of our Lord's public life, St. John tells us +in his gospel that "there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee, and +the Mother of Jesus was there. And Jesus also was invited to the +marriage." Mary was invited to be one of the honored guests +because she was, no doubt, an intimate friend of the family. She +preceded her Son to the wedding in order to lend her aid in the +necessary preparations.</p> +<p>Jesus also was asked, and He did not refuse the invitation. He +went as freely to this house of feasting as He afterwards went +pityingly to so many houses of mourning. Though worn and weary +with his long fast and struggle in the desert, He was pleased to +attend this merry wedding feast, and by this loving and kindly +act to sanctify the bond of Marriage, which was to become in His +Church one of the seven Sacraments.</p> +<p>The feast went gayly onward until an incident occurred that +greatly disturbed the host. The wine failed. The host had not +calculated rightly, or perhaps he had not counted on so many +guests.</p> +<p>Mary, with her motherly heart, was the first to notice the +confusion of the servants when they discovered that the wine +vessels had become empty; and leaning towards her Son, whispered, +"They have no wine." "My hour is not yet come," He answered her, +meaning that His time for working miracles had not yet arrived. +He knew on the instant what the gentle heart of His Mother +desired. His words sounded like a refusal of the request which +Mary made rather with her eyes than with her tongue; but the +sequel shows that the Blessed Mother fully believed that her +prayer would be granted.</p> +<p>She quietly said to the servants, "Whatsoever He shall say to +you, do ye." They had not long to wait. There were standing close +at hand six great urns of stone, covered with branches, as is the +custom in the East, in order to keep the water cool and fresh. +These vessels "containing two or three measures apiece," were +kept in readiness for the guests, who were required not only to +wash their feet before touching the linen and drapery of the +couches, but even during the meal frequently to purify their +hands. Already there had been many of these ablutions performed, +and the urns were being rapidly emptied.</p> +<p>"Fill the waterpots with water," said Jesus to the +servants.</p> +<p>They filled them up to the brim with clear, fresh water.</p> +<p>"Draw out now, and carry to the chief steward of the +feast."</p> +<p>And they carried it.</p> +<p>When the chief steward had tasted the water made wine, and +knew not whence it was, he called the bridegroom and said to him: +"Every man at first setteth forth good wine, and when men have +well drunk then that which is worse; but thou hast kept the good +wine until now."</p> +<p>The steward had supposed at first that the host had wished to +give an agreeable surprise to the company assembled at his table; +but the latter, to his amazement, was at once made aware that a +wondrous deed had been accomplished-that water had been changed +into wine!</p> +<p>Jesus had performed His first Miracle.</p> +<p>From this beautiful story of the first miracle of Jesus, we +learn that Jesus Christ is God, and that Mary, the Mother of God, +whose intercession is all-powerful with her Divine Son, has a +loving and motherly care over the smallest of our life's +concerns.</p> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/058.gif" width="600" height= +"270" alt="" border="0"></div> +<p>THE FEAST <i>Veronese</i>.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>preceded</b>, went before in order of time. The prefix +<i>pre</i>- means <i>before</i>. Tell what the following words +mean:</p> +<p>prefix, predict, prepare, prejudge, prescribe, predestine, +precaution, precursor, prefigure, prearrange.</p> +<p>Read the sentences of the Lesson that express commands.</p> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gems:</p> +<br> + +<p>The conscious water saw its God and blushed.</p> +<p><i>Richard Crashaw.</i></p> +<p>But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the +Christ, the Son of God; and that believing you may have life in +His Name.</p> +<br> + +<p><i>Gospel of St. John.</i></p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_21_"></a> +<h1>_21_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>dec' ades (dek' ads)</td> +<td>di' a dem</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_3">MY BEADS.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Sweet blessèd beads! I would not part<br> + <span class="c5">With one of you for richest gem</span><br> + <span class="c5">That gleams in kingly diadem:</span><br> + Ye know the history of my heart.<br> +<br> + For I have told you every grief<br> + <span class="c5">In all the days of twenty years,</span><br> + <span class="c5">And I have moistened you with tears,</span><br> + And in your decades found relief.<br> +<br> + Ah! time has fled, and friends have failed,<br> + <span class="c4">And joys have died; but in my needs</span><br> + <span class="c4">Ye were my friends, my blessed +beads!</span><br> + And ye consoled me when I wailed.<br> +<br> + For many and many a time, in grief,<br> + <span class="c4">My weary fingers wandered round</span><br> + <span class="c4">Thy circled chain, and always found</span><br> + In some Hail Mary sweet relief.<br> +<br> + How many a story you might tell<br> + <span class="c4">Of inner life, to all unknown;</span><br> + <span class="c4">I trusted you and you alone,</span><br> + But ah! ye keep my secrets well.<br> +<br> + Ye are the only chain I wear-<br> + <span class="c4">A sign that I am but the slave,</span><br> + <span class="c4">In life, in death, beyond the grave,</span><br> + Of Jesus and His Mother fair.<br> + +<p><i>Father Ryan.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>"Father Ryan's Poems."<br> + Published by P. J. Kenedy & Sons, New York.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>From the following words make new words by means of the +suffix <b><i>-ous</i></b>: joy, grace, grief, glory, desire, +virtue, beauty, courage, disaster, harmony.</p> +<p>(Consult the dictionary.)</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gem:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Mary,-our comfort and our hope,-<br> + <span class="c4">O, may that name be given</span><br> + To be the last we sigh on earth,-<br> + <span class="c4">The first we breathe in heaven.</span><br> + +<p><i>Adelaide A. Procter.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_22_"></a> +<h1>_22_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_3">THE HARP THAT ONCE THROUGH TARA'S +HALLS.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>The harp that once through Tara's halls<br> + <span class="c4">The soul of music shed,</span><br> + Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls,<br> + <span class="c4">As if that soul were fled.</span><br> + So sleeps the pride of former days,<br> + <span class="c4">So glory's thrill is o'er,</span><br> + And hearts, that once beat high for praise,<br> + <span class="c4">Now feel that pulse no more.</span><br> +<br> + No more to chiefs and ladies bright<br> + <span class="c4">The harp of Tara swells;</span><br> + The chord alone that breaks at night<br> + <span class="c4">Its tale of ruin tells.</span><br> + Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes,<br> + <span class="c4">The only throb she gives</span><br> + Is when some heart indignant breaks,<br> + <span class="c4">To show that still She lives.</span><br> + +<p><i>Thomas Moore.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<img src="images/063.gif" width="335" height="430" alt="" border= +"0"> +<p>TOM MOORE</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_23_"></a> +<h1>_23_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>ma'am</td> +<td>dis suade'</td> +<td>re spect'a ble</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>shuf' fled</td> +<td>dan' ger ous</td> +<td>grate' ful</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>wist' ful ly</td> +<td>mit' tens</td> +<td>outstretched'</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>res' cue</td> +<td>un daunt' ed</td> +<td>an' ti qua ted</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a name="FNanchor001"></a><a href="#CONTENTS_3">A LITTLE +LADY.</a><a href="#Footnote_001"><sup>[001]</sup></a></h3> +<br> + +<p>Going down a very steep street, where the pavement was covered +with ice, I saw before me an old woman, slowly and timidly +picking her way. She was one of the poor but respectable old +ladies who dress in rusty black, wear old-fashioned bonnets, and +carry big bags.</p> +<p>Some young folks laugh at these antiquated figures; but those +who are better bred treat them with respect. They find something +touching in the faded suits, the withered faces, and the +knowledge that these lonely old ladies have lost youth, friends, +and often fortune, and are patiently waiting to be called away +from a world that seems to have passed by and forgotten them.</p> +<p>Well, as I slipped and shuffled along, I watched the little +black bonnet in front, expecting every minute to see it go down, +and trying to hurry, that I might offer my help.</p> +<p>At the corner, I passed three little school-girls, and heard +one say to another, "O, I wouldn't; she will do well enough, and +we shall lose our coasting, unless we hurry."</p> +<p>"But if she should tumble and break her poor old bones, I +should feel so bad," returned the second, a pleasant-faced child, +whose eyes, full of a sweet, pitiful expression, followed the old +lady.</p> +<p>"She's such a funny-looking woman, I shouldn't like to be seen +walking with her," said the third, as if she thought it a kind +thing to do, but had not the courage to try it.</p> +<p>"Well, I don't care; she's old, and ought to be helped, and +I'm going to do it," cried the pleasant-faced girl; and, running +by me, I saw her overtake the old lady, who stood at a crossing, +looking wistfully over the dangerous sheet of ice before her.</p> +<p>"Please, ma'am, may I help you, it's so bad here?" said the +kind little voice, as the hands in the red mittens were helpfully +out-stretched.</p> +<p>"O, thank you, dear. I'd no idea the walking was so bad; but I +must get home." And the old face lighted up with a grateful +smile, which was worth a dozen of the best coasts in Boston.</p> +<p>"Take my arm then; I'll help you down the street, for I'm +afraid you might fall," said the child, offering her arm.</p> +<p>"Yes, dear, so I will. Now we shall get on beautifully. I've +been having a dreadful time, for my over-socks are all holes, and +I slip at every step."</p> +<p>"Keep hold, ma'am, I won't fall. I have rubber boots, and +can't tumble."</p> +<p>So chatting, the two went safely across, leaving me and the +other girls to look after them and wish that we had done the +little act of kindness, which now looked so lovely in +another.</p> +<p>"I think Katy is a very good girl, don't you?" said one child +to the other.</p> +<p>"Yes, I do; let's wait till she comes back. No matter if we do +lose some coasts," answered the child who had tried to dissuade +her playmate from going to the rescue.</p> +<p>Then I left them; but I think they learned a lesson that day +in real politeness; for, as they watched little Katy dutifully +supporting the old lady, undaunted by the rusty dress, the big +bag, the old socks, and the queer bonnet, both their faces +lighted up with new respect and affection for their playmate.</p> +<p><i>Louisa M. Alcott.</i></p> +<p>From "Little Women." Little, Brown & Co., Publishers.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>dissuade</b>, to advise against; to turn from a purpose by +reasons given.</p> +<p><b>antiquated</b>, grown old; old-fashioned.</p> +<p>Tell what each contraction met with in the selection stands +for.</p> +<p><br> + Use <i>their</i> or <i>there</i> properly in place of the blanks +in<br> + the following sentences: The girls were on - way<br> + to the Park. - was an old lady at the crossing.<br> + Our home is -. Katy and Mary said -<br> + mother lived -.</p> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gems:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Count that day lost<br> + <span class="c4">Whose low descending sun,</span><br> + Views from thy hands<br> + <span class="c4">No worthy action done.</span><br> + +<p><i>Author unknown.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>What I must do concerns me, not what people will think.</p> +<p><i>Emerson</i>.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><a name="Footnote_001"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor001">[001]</a></p> +<p>Copyrighted by Little, Brown & Company.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_24_"></a> +<h1>_24_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_3">WHAT HOUSE TO LIKE.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>For Recitation:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Some love the glow of outward show,<br> + <span class="c4">Some love mere wealth and try to win +it;</span><br> + The house to me may lowly be<br> + <span class="c4">If I but like the people in it.</span><br> +<br> + What's all the gold that glitters cold,<br> + <span class="c4">When linked to hard or haughty +feeling?</span><br> + Whate'er we're told, the noble gold<br> + <span class="c4">Is truth of heart and manly dealing.</span><br> +<br> + A lowly roof may give us proof<br> + <span class="c4">That lowly flowers are often +fairest;</span><br> + And trees whose bark is hard and dark<br> + <span class="c4">May yield us fruit and bloom the +rarest.</span><br> +<br> + There's worth as sure 'neath garments poor<br> + <span class="c4">As e'er adorned a loftier station;</span><br> + And minds as just as those, we trust,<br> + <span class="c4">Whose claim is but of wealth's +creation.</span><br> +<br> + Then let them seek, whose minds are weak,<br> + <span class="c4">Mere fashion's smile, and try to win +it;</span><br> + The house to me may lowly be<br> + <span class="c4">If I but like the people in it.</span><br> + +<p><i>Anon</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>What is meant by "haughty feeling"?</p> +<p>What does the author say "the noble gold" is?</p> +<p>Is "bloom" in the third stanza an action-word or a name-word? +Why?</p> +<p>Give in your own words the thought of the fourth stanza.</p> +<p>Use <i>to, too, two,</i> properly before each of the following +words:</p> +<p>hard, win, people, minds, dark, yield.</p> +<p>What virtues does the poem recommend?</p> +<p>What "lowly flowers are often fairest"?</p> +<p>What "lowly" virtue does the following stanza suggest?</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>The bird that sings on highest wing,<br> + <span class="c4">Builds on the ground her lowly nest;</span><br> + And she that doth most sweetly sing,<br> + <span class="c4">Sings in the shade when all things +rest.</span><br> + +<p><i>Montgomery</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>Name the two birds referred to.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_25_"></a> +<h1>_25_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>sears</td> +<td>flecked</td> +<td>de signed'</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>strait'ened</td> +<td>il lu'mined</td> +<td> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_3">A SONG OF DUTY.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Sorrow comes and sorrow goes;<br> + <span class="c4">Life is flecked with shine and +shower;</span><br> + Now the tear of grieving flows,<br> + <span class="c4">Now we smile in happy hour;</span><br> + Death awaits us, every one-<br> + <span class="c4">Toiler, dreamer, preacher, writer-</span><br> + Let us then, ere life be done,<br> + <span class="c4">Make the world a little brighter!</span><br> +<br> + Burdens that our neighbors bear,<br> + <span class="c4">Easier let us try to make them;</span><br> + Chains perhaps our neighbors wear,<br> + <span class="c4">Let us do our best to break them.</span><br> + From the straitened hand and mind,<br> + <span class="c4">Let us loose the binding fetter,</span><br> + Let us, as the Lord designed,<br> + <span class="c4">Make the world a little better!</span><br> +<br> + Selfish brooding sears the soul,<br> + <span class="c4">Fills the mind with clouds of +sorrow,</span><br> + Darkens all the shining goal<br> + <span class="c4">Of the sun-illumined morrow;</span><br> + Wherefore should our lives be spent<br> + <span class="c4">Daily growing blind and blinder-</span><br> + Let us, as the Master meant,<br> + <span class="c4">Make the world a little kinder!</span><br> + +<p><i>Denis A. McCarthy.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>From "Voices from Erin."</p> +<p>Angel Guardian Press, Boston, Mass.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_26_"></a> +<h1>_26_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>the o lo' gi an</td> +<td>his' to ry</td> +<td>To bi' as</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>cre at' ed</td> +<td>pro ceed' ed</td> +<td>sep' a ra ted</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>min' is ter</td> +<td>Au gus' tine</td> +<td>crit' i cise</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>cat' e ehism</td> +<td>de ter' mined</td> +<td>As cen' sion</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> </td> +<td>Res ur rec' tion</td> +<td> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_3">AN EVENING WITH THE ANGELS.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>"Well, James," said a kind-voiced mother, "you promised to +tell Maggie all about the Catechism you heard this afternoon at +school."</p> +<p>"All right, mother," answered sprightly James, "anything at +all to make Maggie happy. Let's begin right away."</p> +<p>"Maggie, you said," continued James, "that you never could +find out <i>when</i> the angels were created. Neither could our +teacher tell me. And I'm told St. Augustine could only make a +guess when they were created.</p> +<p>"He thought the angels were created when God separated the +light from the darkness. But that's no matter, anyhow. We're sure +there are angels; that's the chief point."</p> +<p>"Are you quite certain?" asked Maggie.</p> +<p>"To be sure I am," said James. "If I met a man in the street I +would know he must have a father and a mother, although I had +never heard when he was born."</p> +<p>"That's so," chimed in the proud mother.</p> +<p>"Well, then, mother, many angels have been seen on earth, and +they must have been created some time. Let me tell you some of +the places where it is said in the Bible that angels have been +seen, and where they spoke, too."</p> +<p>"Now, James," said the father, "let Maggie see if <i>she</i> +can find out some of those places herself. Here is the +Bible."</p> +<p>With the help of mother and James, Maggie soon found the +history of Adam and Eve, where it is recorded that an angel with +a flaming sword was placed at the gate of Paradise.</p> +<p>"Poor Adam and Eve," said Maggie, "they must have felt very +sad."</p> +<p>"Yes," answered Father Kennedy, who dropped in just then, and +beheld his young theologians with the holy Book before them. +"They felt very sorry, indeed, but they were consoled when told +that a Savior would come to redeem them."</p> +<p>"So you told us last Sunday," chimed in James. "Then you spoke +about the angels at Bethlehem who sang glory to God in the +highest."</p> +<p>"And there was an angel in the desert when our Lord was +tempted," proceeded the father.</p> +<p>"Oh! did you hear papa say the devil was an angel?" exclaimed +James.</p> +<p>"Of course the devil is an angel," said Maggie, glad to trip +up her big brother, "but he is a bad one."</p> +<p>"I say yet that there were angels with our Lord after His +forty days' fast," insisted James.</p> +<p>"So I say, too," retorted Maggie; "but while only one <i>bad +angel</i> tempted our Lord, many good angels came to minister +unto Him."</p> +<p>"Very well, indeed," said Father Kennedy. "But let's hurry +over some other points about the angels. Your turn; Master James, +and give only the place and person in each case."</p> +<p>"Well, let me see; there were Abraham and the three angels who +went to Sodom, and the angels who beat the man that wanted to +steal money from the temple, and the angel who took Tobias on a +long journey."</p> +<p>"Please, Father Kennedy, wasn't it an <i>Archangel?</i>" +inquired Maggie, still determined to surpass her brother.</p> +<p>"Never mind that," said the priest. "Go on, James; 'twill be +Maggie's turn soon."</p> +<p>"Well, there was an angel in the Garden of Olives, and angels +at the Resurrection of our Lord, and angels at His +Ascension."</p> +<p>Here Maggie exclaimed, "Please, Father Kennedy, may I have +till next Sunday to search out some angels? James has taken all +mine."</p> +<p>"No," mildly said the delighted clergyman, "<i>your</i> angel +is always with you, and James has his, too."</p> +<p>"Father Kennedy, there's a man dying in the block behind the +church," said the servant from the half-open parlor door. "Excuse +my coming in without knocking. They're in a great hurry."</p> +<p>"Good night, children," said the devoted priest, "till next +Sunday. May your angels watch over you in the meantime."</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>archangel</b> ([:a]rk [=a]n' j[)e]l), a chief angel.</p> +<p><b>archbishop</b> ([:a]rch bish' [)u]p), a chief bishop.</p> +<p><b>arch</b>, as a prefix, means <i>chief</i>, and in nearly +every case the <i>ch</i> is soft, as in archbishop. In archangel, +architect, and in one or two other words, the <i>ch = k.</i></p> +<p><b>arch</b>, as a suffix, is pronounced <i>[:a]rk</i>, and +means <i>ruler;</i> as monarch, a <i>sole ruler;</i> one who +<i>rules alone.</i></p> +<p>Make a list of all the words of the Lesson that are +contractions. Write after each what it is a contraction of.</p> +<p><b>earthward</b> = earth + ward (w[~e]rd). <i>ward</i> is here +a suffix meaning <i>course, direction to, motion towards.</i> Add +this <b>suffix</b> to the end of each of the following words, and +tell the meaning of each new word formed:</p> +<p>up, sea, back, down, east, west, land, earth.</p> +<p><b>What</b> word is the opposite in meaning of each of these +new words?</p> +<p>Memory Gem:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td><span class="c6">The generous heart</span><br> + Should scorn a pleasure which gives others pain.<br> + +<p><i>Tennyson</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_27_"></a> +<h1>_27_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>ebb' ing</td> +<td>spon' sor</td> +<td>judg' ments</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>el' e ments</td> +<td>tu' te lage</td> +<td> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_3">MY GUARDIAN ANGEL.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>My oldest friend, mine from the hour<br> + <span class="c4">When first I drew my breath;</span><br> + My faithful friend, that shall be mine,<br> + <span class="c4">Unfailing, till my death.</span><br> +<br> + Thou hast been ever at my side;<br> + <span class="c4">My Maker to thy trust</span><br> + Consign'd my soul, what time He framed<br> + <span class="c4">The infant child of dust.</span><br> +<br> + No beating heart in holy prayer,<br> + <span class="c4">No faith, inform'd aright,</span><br> + Gave me to Joseph's tutelage,<br> + <span class="c4">Or Michael's conquering might.</span><br> +<br> + Nor patron saint, nor Mary's love,-<br> + <span class="c4">The dearest and the best,-</span><br> + Has known my being as thou hast known,<br> + <span class="c4">And blest as thou hast blest.</span><br> +<br> + Thou wast my sponsor at the font;<br> + <span class="c4">And thou, each budding year,</span><br> + Didst whisper elements of truth<br> + <span class="c4">Into my childish ear.</span><br> +<br> + And when, ere boyhood yet was gone,<br> + <span class="c4">My rebel spirit fell,</span><br> + Ah! thou didst see, and shudder too,<br> + <span class="c4">Yet bear each deed of Hell.</span><br> +<br> + And then in turn, when judgments came.<br> + <span class="c4">And scared me back again,</span><br> + Thy quick soft breath was near to soothe<br> + <span class="c4">And hallow every pain.</span><br> +<br> + Oh! who of all thy toils and cares<br> + <span class="c4">Can tell the tale complete,</span><br> + To place me under Mary's smile,<br> + <span class="c4">And Peter's royal feet!</span><br> +<br> + And thou wilt hang above my bed,<br> + <span class="c4">When life is ebbing low;</span><br> + Of doubt, impatience, and of gloom,<br> + <span class="c4">The jealous, sleepless foe.</span><br> +<br> + Mine, when I stand before my Judge;<br> + <span class="c4">And mine, if spared to stay</span><br> + Within the golden furnace till<br> + <span class="c4">My sin is burn'd away.</span><br> +<br> + And mine, O Brother of my soul,<br> + <span class="c4">When my release shall come;</span><br> + Thy gentle arms shall lift me then,<br> + <span class="c4">Thy wings shall waft me home.</span><br> + +<p><i>Cardinal Newman.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/074.gif" width="330" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<p>THE GUARDIAN ANGEL</p> +<br> + +<p>Explain the following expressions:</p> +<p>Joseph's tutelage; Michael's conquering might; my sponsor at +the font; each budding year; my rebel spirit fell; Peter's royal +feet. Describe the picture.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_28_"></a> +<h1>_28_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>quoth</td> +<td>crooned</td> +<td>frisked</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>beech'-wood</td> +<td>twain</td> +<td>se'rene</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>frol'icked</td> +<td>wan'dering</td> +<td> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_3">LITTLE BELL.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td><br> + Piped the blackbird on the beech-wood spray:<br> + "Pretty maid, slow wandering this way,<br> + <span class="c5">What's your name?" quoth he,-</span><br> + "What's your name? Oh, stop, and straight unfold,<br> + Pretty maid, with showery curls of gold!"<br> + <span class="c5">"Little Bell," said she.</span><br> +<br> + Little Bell sat down beneath the rocks,<br> + Tossed aside her gleaming, golden locks.<br> + <span class="c5">"Bonny bird," quoth she,</span><br> + "Sing me your best song before I go,"<br> + "Here's the very finest song I know,<br> + <span class="c5">Little Bell," said he.</span><br> +<br> + And the blackbird piped: you never heard<br> + Half so gay a song from any bird,-<br> + <span class="c5">Full of quips and wiles,</span><br> + Now so round and rich, now soft and slow,<br> + All for love of that sweet face below,<br> + <span class="c5">Dimpled o'er with smiles.</span><br> +<br> + And the while the bonny bird did pour<br> + His full heart out freely, o'er and o'er,<br> + <span class="c5">'Neath the morning skies,</span><br> + In the little childish heart below<br> + All the sweetness seemed to grow and grow,<br> + And shine forth in happy overflow<br> + <span class="c5">From the blue, bright eyes.</span><br> +<br> + Down the dell she tripped; and through the glade<br> + Peeped the squirrel from the hazel shade,<br> + <span class="c5">And from out the tree</span><br> + Swung, and leaped, and frolicked, void of fear,<br> + While bold blackbird piped, that all might hear:<br> + <span class="c5">"Little Bell!" piped he.</span><br> +<br> + Little Bell sat down amid the fern:<br> + "Squirrel, squirrel, to your task return;<br> + <span class="c5">Bring me nuts," quoth she.</span><br> + Up, away, the frisky squirrel hies,-<br> + Golden woodlights glancing in his eyes,-<br> + <span class="c5">And adown the tree</span><br> + Great ripe nuts, kissed brown by July sun,<br> + In the little lap dropped, one by one.<br> + Hark! how blackbird pipes to see the fun!<br> + <span class="c5">"Happy Bell!" pipes he.</span><br> +<br> + Little Bell looked up and down the glade:<br> + "Squirrel, squirrel, if you're not afraid,<br> + <span class="c5">Come and share with me!"</span><br> + Down came squirrel, eager for his fare,<br> + Down came bonny blackbird, I declare!<br> + Little Bell gave each his honest share;<br> + <span class="c5">Ah! the merry three!</span><br> +<br> + And the while these woodland playmates twain<br> + Piped and frisked from bough to bough again,<br> + <span class="c5">'Neath the morning skies,</span><br> + In the little childish heart below<br> + All the sweetness seemed to grow and grow,<br> + And shine out in happy overflow<br> + <span class="c5">From her blue, bright eyes.</span><br> +<br> + By her snow-white cot at close of day<br> + Knelt sweet Bell, with folded palms, to pray:<br> + <span class="c5">Very calm and clear</span><br> + Rose the praying voice to where, unseen,<br> + In blue heaven, an angel shape serene<br> + <span class="c5">Paused awhile to hear.</span><br> +<br> + "What good child is this," the angel said,<br> + "That, with happy heart, beside her bed<br> + <span class="c5">Prays so lovingly?"</span><br> + Low and soft, oh! very low and soft,<br> + Crooned the blackbird in the orchard croft,<br> + <span class="c5">"Bell, <i>dear</i> Bell!" crooned +he.</span><br> +<br> + "Whom God's creatures love," the angel fair<br> + Whispered, "God doth bless with angels' care;<br> + <span class="c5">Child, thy bed shall be</span><br> + Folded safe from harm. Love, deep and kind,<br> + Shall watch around, and leave good gifts behind,<br> + <span class="c5">Little Bell, for thee."</span><br> + +<p><i>Thomas Westwood</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<div class="c2"><img src="images/079.gif" width="433" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> + +<p>A STUDY OF LITTLE BELL</p> +<p>croft, a small inclosed field, near a house.</p> +<p>croon, to sing in a low tone.</p> +<p>quips, quick, smart turns.</p> +<p>piping, making a shrill sound like that of a pipe or +flute.</p> +<p>In the first stanza what are the marks called that enclose +<i>Little Bell?</i> Why are these marks used here?</p> +<p>Name the words of the poem in which the apostrophe is used. +Tell what it denotes in each case.</p> +<p>Where does the poem first take us? What do we see there?</p> +<p>In what words does the blackbird address the "pretty maid, +slowly wandering" his way? Who is she?</p> +<p>Seated beneath the rocks, what does Little Bell ask the +blackbird to do?</p> +<p>Read the lines that describe the blackbird's song. Why did the +bird sing so sweetly? What were the effects of his song on "the +little childish heart below?"</p> +<p>Seated amid the fern, what did Little Bell ask the squirrel to +do? Read the lines that tell what the squirrel did. What +invitation did the squirrel receive from Little Bell?</p> +<p>Where does the poem bring us "at the close of day?" Tell what +you see there.</p> +<p>Read the lines that tell what the angel asked.</p> +<p>Read the angel's words in the first two lines of the last +stanza. What is their meaning?</p> +<p>What promises did the angel make to this good child? Why did +he make such beautiful promises?</p> +<p>Tell what the following words and expressions of the poem +mean: quoth he; straight unfold; dell; glade; hies; showery curls +of gold; bonny bird; hazel shade; void of fear; golden +woodlights; adown the tree; playmates twain; with folded palms; +an angel shape; with angels' care; the bird did pour his full +heart out freely; the sweetness did shine forth in happy +overflow.</p> +<p>Select a stanza of the poem, and express in your own words the +thought it contains.</p> +<p>Describe some of the pictures the poem brings to mind.</p> +<p>What is the lesson the poet wishes us to learn from this +poem?</p> +<p>Show how the couplet of the English poet, Coleridge,- "He +prayeth best who loveth best,<br> + All things both great and small,"- is illustrated in the story +of Little Bell.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Write a composition on the story from the following hints: +Where did Little Bell go? In what season of the year? At what +time of day? How old was she? How did she look? What companions +did she meet? What did the three friends do? How did the little +girl close the day?</p> +<p>In your composition, use as many words and phrases of the poem +as you can.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Memorize:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Prayer is the dew of faith,<br> + <span class="c4">Its raindrop, night and day,</span><br> + That guards its vital power from death<br> + <span class="c4">When cherished hopes decay,</span><br> + And keeps it mid this changeful scene,<br> + A bright, perennial evergreen.<br> +<br> + Good works, of faith the fruit,<br> + <span class="c4">Should ripen year by year,</span><br> + Of health and soundness at the root<br> + <span class="c4">And evidence sincere.</span><br> + Dear Savior, grant thy blessing free<br> + And make our faith no barren tree.<br> + +<p><i>Lydia H. Sigourney.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_29_"></a> +<h1>_29_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>na'bob</td> +<td>ap plaud'ed</td> +<td>un as sum'ing</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>sad' dler</td> +<td>dif' fi dence</td> +<td>sec' re ta ry</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>ob scured'</td> +<td>live' li hood</td> +<td>su per cil' i ous</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_3">A MODEST WIT.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>For Recitation:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>A supercilious nabob of the East-<br> + <span class="c4">Haughty, being great-purse-proud, being +rich-</span><br> + A governor, or general, at the least,<br> + <span class="c4">I have forgotten which---</span><br> + Had in his family a humble youth,<br> + <span class="c4">Who went from England in his patron's +suit,</span><br> + An unassuming boy, in truth<br> + <span class="c4">A lad of decent parts, and good +repute.</span><br> +<br> + This youth had sense and spirit;<br> + <span class="c4">But yet with all his sense,</span><br> + <span class="c4">Excessive diffidence</span><br> + Obscured his merit.<br> +<br> + One day, at table, flushed with pride and wine,<br> + <span class="c4">His honor, proudly free, severely +merry,</span><br> + Conceived it would be vastly fine<br> + <span class="c4">To crack a joke upon his secretary.</span><br> +<br> + "Young man," said he, "by what art, craft, or trade,<br> + <span class="c4">Did your good father gain a +livelihood?"-</span><br> + "He was a saddler, sir," Modestus said,<br> + <span class="c4">"And in his line was reckoned good."</span><br> +<br> + "A saddler, eh? and taught you Greek,<br> + <span class="c4">Instead of teaching you to sew!</span><br> + Pray, why did not your father make<br> + <span class="c4">A saddler, sir, of you?"</span><br> +<br> + Each flatterer, then, as in duty bound,<br> + The joke applauded, and the laugh went round.<br> + <span class="c4">At length, Modestus, bowing low,</span><br> + Said (craving pardon, if too free he made),<br> + <span class="c4">"Sir, by your leave, I fain would +know</span><br> + <i>Your</i> father's trade!"<br> +<br> + "<i>My</i> father's <i>trade?</i> Heavens! that's too bad!<br> + My father's trade! Why, blockhead, are you mad?<br> + My father, sir, did never stoop so low.<br> + He was a gentleman, I'd have you know."<br> +<br> + "Excuse the liberty I take,"<br> + <span class="c4">Modestus said, with archness on his +brow,</span><br> + "Pray, why did not your father make<br> + <span class="c4">A gentleman of you?"</span><br> + +<p><i>Selleck Osborne.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>fain, gladly.</p> +<p>archness, sly humor free from malice.</p> +<p>suit (s[=u]t), the people who attend upon a person of +distinction; often written <i>suite</i> (<i>sw[=e]t</i>).</p> +<p>Write the plural forms of <i>boy, man, duty, youth, family, +secretary.</i></p> +<p>Copy these sentences, using other words instead of those in +italics:</p> +<p>He was an <i>unassuming</i> boy, of decent <i>parts</i> and +good <i>repute</i>. His <i>diffidence obscured</i> his merit. +<i>Excuse</i> the <i>liberty</i> I take.</p> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gems:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>The rank is but the guinea's stamp,-<br> + The man's the gold for a' that!<br> + +<p><i>Burns.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<p>One cannot always be a hero, but one can always be a man.</p> +<p><i>Goethe</i> (g[^u]' t[=e]).</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_30_"></a> +<h1>_30_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="FNanchor002"></a> +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_3">WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE.</a><a href= +"#Footnote_002"><sup>[002]</sup></a></h3> +<br> + +<p>For Recitation:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Woodman, spare that tree!<br> + <span class="c4">Touch not a single bough!</span><br> + In youth it sheltered me,<br> + <span class="c4">And I'll protect it now.</span><br> + 'Twas my forefather's hand<br> + <span class="c4">That placed it near his cot;</span><br> + There, woodman, let it stand,<br> + <span class="c4">Thy ax shall harm it not!</span><br> +<br> + That old familiar tree,<br> + <span class="c4">Whose glory and renown</span><br> + Are spread o'er land and sea---<br> + <span class="c4">And wouldst thou hew it down?</span><br> + Woodman, forbear thy stroke!<br> + <span class="c4">Cut not its earth-bound ties;</span><br> + Oh! spare that aged oak,<br> + <span class="c4">Now towering to the skies.</span><br> +<br> + When but an idle boy,<br> + <span class="c4">I sought its grateful shade;</span><br> + In all their gushing joy<br> + <span class="c4">Here, too, my sisters played.</span><br> + My mother kissed me here;<br> + <span class="c4">My father pressed my hand;-</span><br> + Forgive this foolish tear,<br> + <span class="c4">But let that old oak stand.</span><br> +<br> + My heartstrings round thee cling,<br> + <span class="c4">Close as thy bark, old friend!</span><br> + Here shall the wild bird sing,<br> + <span class="c4">And still thy branches bend.</span><br> + Old tree! the storm still brave!<br> + <span class="c4">And, Woodman, leave the spot!</span><br> + While I've a hand to save,<br> + <span class="c4">Thy ax shall harm it not.</span><br> + +<p><i>George P. Morris,</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + <a name="Footnote_002"></a><a href="#FNanchor002">[002]</a> +<blockquote>NOTE.-Many trees in our country are landmarks, and +are valued highly. The early settlers were accustomed to plant +trees and dedicate them to liberty. One of these was planted at +Cambridge, Mass., and it was under the shade of this venerable +Elm that George Washington took command of the Continental army, +July 3rd, 1775.<br> +<br> + There are other trees around whose trunks and under whose boughs +whole families of children passed much of their childhood. When +one of these falls or is destroyed, it is like the death of some +honored citizen.<br> +<br> + Judge Harris of Georgia, a scholar, and a gentleman of extensive +literary culture, regarded "Woodman, Spare that Tree" as one of +the truest lyrics of the age. He never heard it sung or recited +without being deeply moved.</blockquote> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_31_"></a> +<h1>_31_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>car' goes</td> +<td>em bar' go</td> +<td>im mor' tal ized</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>prin' ci ple</td> +<td>col' o nists</td> +<td>rep re sen ta' tion</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>de ri' sion</td> +<td>pa' tri ot ism</td> +<td>Phil a del' phi a</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_4">THE BOSTON TEA PARTY.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>Shortly before the War of the Revolution broke out, George +III, King of England, claimed the right to tax the people of this +country, though he did not permit them to take any part in +framing the laws under which they lived.</p> +<p>He placed a light tax on tea, just to teach Americans that +they could not escape taxation altogether. But the colonists were +fighting for a principle,-that of no taxation without +representation, and would not buy the tea. In New York and +Philadelphia the people would not allow the vessels to land their +cargoes.</p> +<p>The women of America held meetings in many towns, and declared +they would drink no tea until the hated tax was removed. The +ladies had a hard time of it without their consoling cup of tea, +but they stood out nobly.</p> +<p>Three shiploads of tea were sent to Boston. On the night of +December 16, 1773, a party of young Americans, painted and +dressed like Indians, boarded the three vessels lying in the +harbor, opened the chests, and emptied all the tea into the +water. They then slipped away to their homes, and were never +found out by the British. One of the leaders of these daring +young men was Paul Revere, whose famous midnight ride has been +immortalized by Longfellow.</p> +<p>When the news of the Boston Tea Party was carried across the +ocean, the anger of the King was aroused, and he sent a strong +force of soldiers to Boston to bring the rebels to terms. This +act only increased the spirit of patriotism that burned in the +breasts of all Americans.</p> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/088.gif" width="298" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> + +<p>George P. Morris, the poet, describes this Tea Party, and the +origin of the tune "Yankee Doodle," in the following verses, +which our American boys and girls of to-day will gladly read and +sing:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Once on a time old Johnny Bull flew in a raging fury,<br> + And swore that Jonathan should have no trials, sir, by jury;<br> + That no elections should be held, across the briny waters;<br> + "And now," said he, "I'll tax the tea of all his sons and +daughters."<br> + Then down he sate in burly state, and blustered like a +grandee,<br> + And in derision made a tune called "Yankee doodle dandy."<br> + "Yankee doodle"-these are facts-"Yankee doodle dandy;"<br> + My son of wax, your tea I'll tax; you Yankee doodle dandy!"<br> +<br> + John sent the tea from o'er the sea, with heavy duties +rated;<br> + But whether hyson or bohea, I never heard it stated.<br> + Then Jonathan to pout began-he laid a strong embargo-<br> + "I'll drink no tea, by Jove!" so he threw overboard the +cargo.<br> + Then Johnny sent a regiment, big words and looks to bandy,<br> + Whose martial band, when near the land, played "Yankee doodle +dandy."<br> + "Yankee doodle-keep it up-Yankee doodle dandy-<br> + I'll poison with a tax your cup, you Yankee doodle dandy."<br> +<br> + A long war then they had, in which John was at last +defeated,<br> + And "Yankee Doodle" was the march to which his troops +retreated.<br> + Cute Jonathan, to see them fly, could not restrain his +laughter;<br> + "That tune," said he, "suits to a T-I'll sing it ever +after!"<br> + Old Johnny's face, to his disgrace, was flushed with beer and +brandy,<br> + E'en while he swore to sing no more this Yankee doodle +dandy.<br> + Yankee doodle,-ho-ha-he-Yankee doodle dandy,<br> + We kept the tune, but not the tea-Yankee doodle dandy.<br> +<br> + I've told you now the origin of this most lively ditty,<br> + Which Johnny Bull dislikes as "dull and stupid"-what a pity!<br> + With "Hail Columbia" it is sung, in chorus full and hearty-<br> + On land and main we breathe the strain John made for his tea +party,<br> + No matter how we rhyme the words, the music speaks them +handy,<br> + And where's the fair can't sing the air of Yankee doodle +dandy?<br> + Yankee doodle, firm and true-Yankee doodle dandy-<br> + Yankee doodle, doodle do, Yankee doodle dandy!<br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>The people of the thirteen original colonies adopted as a +principle, "No taxation without representation." What did they +mean by this? Name the thirteen original colonies.</p> +<p>Are the last syllables of the words <i>principle</i> and +<i>principal</i>pronounced alike? Use the two words in sentences +of your own.</p> +<p>What does "with heavy duties rated" mean?</p> +<p>Pronounce distinctly the final consonants in the words +<i>colonists, insects, friend, friends, nests, priests, lifts, +tempts.</i></p> +<p>Write the plural forms of the following words: solo, echo, +negro, cargo, piano, calico, potato, embargo.</p> +<p>How should a word be broken or divided when there is not room +for all of it at the end of a line? Illustrate by means of +examples found in your Reader.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_32_"></a> +<h1>_32_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>scenes</td> +<td>source</td> +<td>seized</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>re ceive'</td> +<td>poised</td> +<td>nec' tar</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>re verts'</td> +<td>Ju' pi ter</td> +<td>cat' a ract</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>ex' qui site</td> +<td>in tru' sive ly</td> +<td> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_4">THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood,<br> + <span class="c4">When fond recollection presents them to +view!</span><br> + The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild-wood,<br> + <span class="c4">And every loved spot that my infancy +knew;-</span><br> + The wide-spreading pond,and the mill that stood by it;<br> + <span class="c4">The bridge, and the rock where the cataract +fell;</span><br> +<br> + The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it,<br> + <span class="c4">And e'en the rude bucket which hung in the +well:</span><br> + The old oaken bucket, the ironbound bucket,<br> + <span class="c4">The moss-covered bucket, which hung in the +well.</span><br> +<br> + That moss-covered vessel I hailed as a treasure;<br> + <span class="c4">For often, at noon, when returned from the +field,</span><br> + I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure,<br> + <span class="c4">The purest and sweetest that nature can +yield.</span><br> + How ardent I seized it with hands that were glowing,<br> + <span class="c4">And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it +fell;</span><br> + Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing,<br> + <span class="c4">And dripping with coolness, it rose from the +well:</span><br> + The old oaken bucket, the ironbound bucket,<br> + <span class="c4">The moss-covered bucket arose from the +well.</span><br> +<br> + How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it,<br> + <span class="c4">As, poised on the curb, it inclined to my +lips!</span><br> + Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it,<br> + <span class="c4">Though filled with the nectar that Jupiter +sips.</span><br> +<br> + And now, far removed from that loved habitation,<br> + <span class="c4">The tear of regret will intrusively +swell,</span><br> + As fancy reverts to my father's plantation,<br> + <span class="c4">And sighs for the bucket which hangs in the +well:</span><br> + The old oaken bucket, the ironbound bucket,<br> + <span class="c4">The moss-covered bucket, which hangs in the +well!</span><br> + +<p><i>Samuel Woodworth.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/092.gif" width="336" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Make a list of the describing-words of the poem, and tell what +each describes. Use each to describe something else.</p> +<p>Make a list of the words of the poem that you never use, and +tell what word you would have used in the place of each had you +tried to express its meaning. Which word is better, yours or the +author's? Why?</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_33_"></a> +<h1>_33_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>blouse</td> +<td>receipt'ed</td> +<td>coun' te nance</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>ab sorbed'</td> +<td>con trast' ed</td> +<td>for' tu nate ly</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>mir' a cle</td> +<td>stock'-still</td> +<td>good-hu' mored ly</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_4">THE BOY AND THE CRICKETS.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>My friend Jacques went into a baker's shop one day to buy a +little cake which he had fancied in passing. He intended it for a +child whose appetite was gone, and who could be coaxed to eat +only by amusing him. He thought that such a pretty loaf might +tempt even the sick. While he waited for his change, a little boy +six or eight years old, in poor but perfectly clean clothes, +entered the baker's shop. "Ma'am," said he to the baker's wife, +"mother sent me for a loaf of bread." The woman climbed upon the +counter (this happened in a country town), took from the shelf of +four-pound loaves the best one she could find, and put it into +the arms of the little boy.</p> +<p>My friend Jacques then first observed the thin and thoughtful +face of the little fellow. It contrasted strongly with the round, +open countenance of the great loaf, of which he was taking the +greatest care.</p> +<p>"Have you any money?" said the baker's wife.</p> +<p>The little boy's eyes grew sad.</p> +<p>"No, ma'am," said he, hugging the loaf closer to his thin +blouse; "but mother told me to say that she would come and speak +to you about it to-morrow."</p> +<p>"Run along," said the good woman; "carry your bread home, +child."</p> +<p>"Thank you, ma'am," said the poor little fellow.</p> +<p>My friend Jacques came forward for his money. He had put his +purchase into his pocket, and was about to go, when he found the +child with the big loaf, whom he had supposed to be halfway home, +standing stock-still behind him.</p> +<p>"What are you doing there?" said the baker's wife to the +child, whom she also had thought to be fairly off. "Don't you +like the bread?"</p> +<p>"Oh yes, ma'am!" said the child.</p> +<p>"Well, then, carry it to your mother, my little friend. If you +wait any longer, she will think you are playing by the way, and +you will get a scolding."</p> +<p>The child did not seem to hear. Something else absorbed his +attention.</p> +<p>The baker's wife went up to him, and gave him a friendly tap +on the shoulder, "What <i>are</i> you thinking about?" said +she.</p> +<p>"Ma'am," said the little boy, "what is it that sings?"</p> +<p>"There is no singing," said she.</p> +<p>"Yes!" cried the little fellow. "Hear it! Queek, queek, queek, +queek!"</p> +<p>My friend and the woman both listened, but they could hear +nothing, unless it was the song of the crickets, frequent guests +in bakers' houses.</p> +<p>"It is a little bird," said the dear little fellow; "or +perhaps the bread sings when it bakes, as apples do?"</p> +<p>"No, indeed, little goosey!" said the baker's wife; "those are +crickets. They sing in the bakehouse because we are lighting the +oven, and they like to see the fire."</p> +<p>"Crickets!" said the child; "are they really crickets?"</p> +<p>"Yes, to be sure," said she good-humoredly. The child's face +lighted up.</p> +<p>"Ma'am," said he, blushing at the boldness of his request, "I +would like it very much if you would give me a cricket."</p> +<p>"A cricket!" said the baker's wife, smiling; "what in the +world would you do with a cricket, my little friend? I would +gladly give you all there are in the house, to get rid of them, +they run about so."</p> +<p>"O ma'am, give me one, only one, if you please!" said the +child, clasping his little thin hands under the big loaf. "They +say that crickets bring good luck into houses; and perhaps if we +had one at home, mother, who has so much trouble, wouldn't cry +any more."</p> +<p>"Why does your poor mamma cry?" said my friend, who could no +longer help joining in the conversation.</p> +<p>"On account of her bills, sir," said the little fellow. +"Father is dead, and mother works very hard, but she cannot pay +them all."</p> +<p>My friend took the child, and with him the great loaf, into +his arms, and I really believe he kissed them both. Meanwhile the +baker's wife, who did not dare to touch a cricket herself, had +gone into the bakehouse. She made her husband catch four, and put +them into a box with holes in the cover, so that they might +breathe. She gave the box to the child, who went away perfectly +happy.</p> +<p>When he had gone, the baker's wife and my friend gave each +other a good squeeze of the hand. "Poor little fellow!" said they +both together. Then she took down her account book, and, finding +the page where the mother's charges were written, made a great +dash all down the page, and then wrote at the bottom, "Paid."</p> +<p>Meanwhile my friend, to lose no time, had put up in paper all +the money in his pockets, where fortunately he had quite a sum +that day, and had begged the good wife to send it at once to the +mother of the little cricket-boy, with her bill receipted, and a +note, in which he told her she had a son who would one day be her +joy and pride.</p> +<p>They gave it to a baker's boy with long legs, and told him to +make haste. The child, with his big loaf, his four crickets, and +his little short legs, could not run very fast, so that, when he +reached home, he found his mother, for the first time in many +weeks, with her eyes raised from her work, and a smile of peace +and happiness upon her lips.</p> +<p>The boy believed that it was the arrival of his four little +black things which had worked this miracle, and I do not think he +was mistaken. Without the crickets, and his good little heart, +would this happy change have taken place in his mother's +fortunes?</p> +<p><i>From the French of Pierre J. Hetzel.</i></p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> + +<p>Jacques (zh[:a]k), James.</p> +<p>In the selection, find ten sentences that ask questions, and +five that express commands or requests.</p> +<p>What mark of punctuation always follows the first kind? The +second?</p> +<br> + +<p>Memorize:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>In the evening I sit near my poker and tongs,<br> + <span class="c4">And I dream in the firelight's glow,</span><br> + And sometimes I quaver forgotten old songs<br> + <span class="c4">That I listened to long ago.</span><br> + Then out of the cinders there cometh a chirp<br> + <span class="c4">Like an echoing, answering cry,-</span><br> + Little we care for the outside world,<br> + <span class="c4">My friend the cricket, and I.</span><br> +<br> + For my cricket has learnt, I am sure of it quite,<br> + <span class="c4">That this earth is a silly, strange +place,</span><br> + And perhaps he's been beaten and hurt in the fight,<br> + <span class="c4">And perhaps he's been passed in the +race.</span><br> + But I know he has found it far better to sing<br> + <span class="c4">Than to talk of ill luck and to +sigh,-</span><br> + Little we care for the outside world,<br> + <span class="c4">My friend the cricket, and I.</span><br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_34_"></a> +<h1>_34_</h1> +<br> + +<p>For Recitation:</p> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_4">OUR HEROES.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Here's a hand to the boy who has courage<br> + <span class="c4">To do what he knows to be right;</span><br> + When he falls in the way of temptation<br> + <span class="c4">He has a hard battle to fight.</span><br> + Who strives against self and his comrades<br> + <span class="c4">Will find a most powerful foe:</span><br> + All honor to him if he conquers;<br> + <span class="c4">A cheer for the boy who says "No!"</span><br> +<br> + There's many a battle fought daily<br> + <span class="c4">The world knows nothing about;</span><br> + There's many a brave little soldier<br> + <span class="c4">Whose strength puts a legion to +rout.</span><br> + And he who fights sin single-handed<br> + <span class="c4">Is more of a hero, I say,</span><br> + Than he who leads soldiers to battle,<br> + <span class="c4">And conquers by arms in the fray.</span><br> +<br> + Be steadfast, my boy, when you're tempted,<br> + <span class="c4">And do what you know to be right;</span><br> + Stand firm by the colors of manhood,<br> + <span class="c4">And you will o'ercome in the fight.</span><br> + "The right!" be your battle cry ever<br> + <span class="c4">In waging the warfare of life;</span><br> + And God, who knows who are the heroes,<br> + <span class="c4">Will give you the strength for the +strife.</span><br> + +<p><i>Phoebe Cary.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>From "Poems for the Study of Language." Houghton, Mifflin +& Co., Publishers.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Write sentences each containing one of the following +words:</p> +<p>I, me; he, him; she, her; they, them.</p> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gems:</p> +<p>For raising the spirits, for brightening the eyes, for +bringing back vanished smiles, for making one brave and +courageous, light-hearted and happy, there is nothing like a good +Confession.</p> +<p><i>Father Bearne, S.J.</i></p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Heroes must be more than driftwood<br> + Floating on a waveless tide.<br> +<br> + For right is right, since God is God;<br> + <span class="c4">And right the day must win;</span><br> + To doubt would be disloyalty,<br> + <span class="c4">To falter would be sin.</span><br> + +<p><i>Father Faber.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<p>I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have +kept the Faith.</p> +<p><i>St. Paul.</i></p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_35_"></a> +<h1>_35_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>troll</td> +<td>cel' er y</td> +<td>new' fan gled</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>thatch</td> +<td>chink' ing</td> +<td>as par' a gus<</td></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>im mense'</td> +<td>sauce' pan</td> +<td>de mol' ish ing</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>sa' vor y</td> +<td>pat' terns</td> +<td>ag' gra va ting</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_4">THE MINNOWS WITH SILVER TAILS.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>There was a cuckoo clock hanging in Tom Turner's cottage. When +it struck one, Tom's wife laid the baby in the cradle, and took a +saucepan off the fire, from which came a very savory smell.</p> +<p>"If father doesn't come soon," she observed, "the apple +dumplings will be too much done."</p> +<p>"There he is!" cried the little boy; "he is coming around by +the wood; and now he's going over the bridge. O father! make +haste, and have some apple dumpling."</p> +<p>"Tom," said his wife, as he came near, "art tired to-day?"</p> +<p>"Uncommon tired," said Tom, as he threw himself on the bench, +in the shadow of the thatch.</p> +<p>"Has anything gone wrong?" asked his wife; "what's the +matter?"</p> +<p>"Matter!" repeated Tom; "is anything the matter? The matter is +this, mother, that I'm a miserable, hard-worked slave;" and he +clapped his hands upon his knees and uttered in a deep voice, +which frightened the children-"a miserable slave!"</p> +<p>"Bless us!" said the wife, but could not make out what he +meant.</p> +<p>"A miserable, ill-used slave," continued Tom, "and always have +been."</p> +<p>"Always have been?" said his wife: "why, father, I thought +thou used to say, at the election time, that thou wast a +free-born Briton."</p> +<p>"Women have no business with politics," said Tom, getting up +rather sulkily. Whether it was the force of habit, or the smell +of the dinner, that made him do it, has not been ascertained; but +it is certain that he walked into the house, ate plenty of pork +and greens, and then took a tolerable share in demolishing the +apple dumpling.</p> +<p>When the little children were gone out to play, Tom's wife +said to him, "I hope thou and thy master haven't had words +to-day."</p> +<p>"We've had no words," said Tom, impatiently; "but I'm sick of +being at another man's beck and call. It's, 'Tom, do this,' and +'Tom do that,' and nothing but work, work, work, from Monday +morning till Saturday night. I was thinking as I walked over to +Squire Morton's to ask for the turnip seed for master,-I was +thinking, Sally, that I am nothing but a poor workingman after +all. In short, I'm a slave; and my spirit won't stand it."</p> +<p>So saying, Tom flung himself out at the cottage door, and his +wife thought he was going back to his work as usual; but she was +mistaken. He walked to the wood, and there, when he came to the +border of a little tinkling stream, he sat down and began to +brood over his grievances.</p> +<p>"Now, I'll tell you what," said Tom to himself, "it's much +pleasanter sitting here in the shade, than broiling over celery +trenches, and thinning wall fruit, with a baking sun at one's +back, and a hot wall before one's eyes. But I'm a miserable +slave. I must either work or see my family starve; a very hard +lot it is to be a workingman."</p> +<p>"Ahem," said a voice close to him. Tom started, and, to his +great surprise, saw a small man about the size of his own baby, +sitting composedly at his elbow. He was dressed in green,-green +hat, green coat, and green shoes. He had very bright black eyes, +and they twinkled very much as he looked at Tom and smiled.</p> +<p>"Servant, sir!" said Tom, edging himself a little farther +off.</p> +<p>"Miserable slave," said the small man, "art thou so far lost +to the noble sense of freedom that thy very salutation +acknowledges a mere stranger as thy master?'</p> +<p>"Who are you," said Tom, "and how dare you call me a +slave?"</p> +<p>"Tom," said the small man, with a knowing look, "don't speak +roughly. Keep your rough words for your wife, my man; she is +bound to bear them."</p> +<p>"I'll thank you to let my affairs alone," interrupted Tom, +shortly.</p> +<p>"Tom, I'm your friend; I think I can help you out of your +difficulty. Every minnow in this stream--they are very scarce, +mind you-has a silver tail."</p> +<p>"You don't say so," exclaimed Tom, opening his eyes very wide; +"fishing for minnows and being one's own master would be much +pleasanter than the sort of life I've been leading this many a +day."</p> +<p>"Well, keep the secret as to where you get them, and much good +may it do you," said the man in green. "Farewell; I wish you joy +in your freedom." So saying, he walked away, leaving Tom on the +brink of the stream, full of joy and pride.</p> +<p>He went to his master and told him that he had an opportunity +for bettering himself, and should not work for him any +longer.</p> +<p>The next day, he arose with the dawn, and went in search of +minnows. But of all the minnows in the world, never were any so +nimble as those with silver tails. They were very shy, too, and +had as many turns and doubles as a hare; what a life they led +him!</p> +<p>They made him troll up the stream for miles; then, just as he +thought his chase was at an end and he was sure of them, they +would leap quite out of the water, and dart down the stream again +like little silver arrows. Miles and miles he went, tired, wet, +and hungry. He came home late in the evening, wearied and +footsore, with only three minnows in his pocket, each with a +silver tail.</p> +<p>"But, at any rate," he said to himself, as he lay down in his +bed, "though they lead me a pretty life, and I have to work +harder than ever, yet I certainly am free; no man can now order +me about."</p> +<p>This went on for a whole week; he worked very hard; but, up to +Saturday afternoon, he had caught only fourteen minnows.</p> +<p>After all, however, his fish were really great curiosities; +and when he had exhibited them all over the town, set them out in +all lights, praised their perfections, and taken immense pains to +conceal his impatience and ill temper, he, at length, contrived +to sell them all, and get exactly fourteen shillings for them, +and no more.</p> +<p>"Now, I'll tell you what, Tom Turner," said he to himself, +"I've found out this afternoon, and I don't mind your knowing +it,-that every one of those customers of yours was your master. +Why! you were at the beck of every man, woman, and child that +came near you;-obliged to be in a good temper, too, which was +very aggravating."</p> +<p>"True, Tom," said the man in green, starting up in his path. +"I knew you were a man of sense; look you, you are all +workingmen; and you must all please your customers. Your master +was your customer; what he bought of you was your work. Well, you +must let the work be such as will please the customer."</p> +<p>"All workingmen? How do you make that out?" said Tom, chinking +the fourteen shillings in his hand. "Is my master a workingman; +and has he a master of his own? Nonsense!"</p> +<p>"No nonsense at all; he works with his head, keeps his books, +and manages his great mills. He has many masters; else why was he +nearly ruined last year?"</p> +<p>"He was nearly ruined because he made some newfangled kinds of +patterns at his works, and people would not buy them," said Tom. +"Well, in a way of speaking, then, he works to please his +masters, poor fellow! He is, as one may say, a fellow-servant, +and plagued with very awkward masters. So I should not mind his +being my master, and I think I'll go and tell him so."</p> +<p>"I would, Tom," said the man in green. "Tell him you have not +been able to better yourself, and you have no objection now to +dig up the asparagus bed."</p> +<p>So Tom trudged home to his wife, gave her the money he had +earned, got his old master to take him back, and kept a profound +secret his adventures with the man in green.</p> +<p><i>Jean Ingelow.</i></p> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/105.gif" width="357" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> + +<p>"Every minnow in the stream (they are very scarce, mind you) +has a silver tail." Here we have a group of words in parenthesis. +Read the sentence aloud several times, <i>omitting</i> the group +in parenthesis. Now read the <i>whole</i> sentence, keeping in +mind the fact that the words in parenthesis are not at all +important,-that they are merely thrown in by way of explanation. +You notice that you have read the words in parenthesis in a +<i>lower tone</i> and <i>faster time.</i> Groups of words like +the above are not always enclosed by marks of parenthesis; but +that makes no difference in the reading of them.</p> +<p>The following examples are taken from "The Martyr's Boy," page +243. Practice on them till you believe you have mastered the +method.</p> +<p>I never heard anything so cold and insipid (I hope it is not +wrong to say so) as the compositions read by my companions.</p> +<p>Only, I know not why, he seems ever to have a grudge against +me.</p> +<p>I felt that I was strong enough-my rising anger made me so-to +seize my unjust assailant by the throat, and cast him gasping to +the ground.</p> +<br> + +<p>Memorize:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>"Work! and the clouds of care will fly;<br> + <span class="c4">Pale want will pass away.</span><br> + Work! and the leprosy of crime<br> + <span class="c4">And tyrants must decay.</span><br> + Leave the dead ages in their urns:<br> + <span class="c4">The present time be ours,</span><br> + To grapple bravely with our lot,<br> + <span class="c4">And strew our path with flowers."</span><br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_36_"></a> +<h1>_36_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_4">THE BROOK.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>I come from haunts of coot and hern,<br> + <span class="c4">I make a sudden sally,</span><br> + And sparkle out among the fern,<br> + <span class="c4">To bicker down a valley.</span><br> + By thirty hills I hurry down,<br> + <span class="c4">Or slip between the ridges,</span><br> + By twenty thorps, a little town,<br> + <span class="c4">And half a hundred bridges.</span><br> + Till last by Philip's farm I flow<br> + <span class="c4">To join the brimming river;</span><br> + For men may come, and men may go,<br> + <span class="c4">But I go on forever.</span><br> +<br> + I chatter over stony ways<br> + <span class="c4">In little sharps and trebles;</span><br> + I bubble into eddying bays;<br> + <span class="c4">I babble on the pebbles.</span><br> + With many a curve my banks I fret<br> + <span class="c4">By many a field and fallow.</span><br> + And many a fairy foreland set<br> + <span class="c4">With willow-weed and mallow.</span><br> + I chatter, chatter, as I flow<br> + <span class="c4">To join the brimming river;</span><br> + For men may come, and men may go,<br> + <span class="c4">But I go on forever.</span><br> +<br> + I steal by lawns and grassy plots,<br> + <span class="c4">I slide by hazel covers,</span><br> + I move the sweet forget-me-nots<br> + <span class="c4">That grow for happy lovers.</span><br> + I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,<br> + <span class="c4">Among my skimming swallows;</span><br> + I make the netted sunbeams dance<br> + <span class="c4">Against my sandy shallows.</span><br> +<br> + I murmur under moon and stars<br> + <span class="c4">In brambly wildernesses;</span><br> + I linger by my shingly bars;<br> + <span class="c4">I loiter round my cresses.</span><br> + And out again I curve and flow<br> + <span class="c4">To join the brimming river;</span><br> + For men may come, and men may go,<br> + <span class="c4">But I go on forever.</span><br> + +<p><i>Tennyson</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/110.gif" width="353" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>haunts</b>, places of frequent resort.</p> +<p><b>coot</b> and <b>hern</b>, water fowls that frequent lakes +and other still waters.</p> +<p><b>bicker</b>, to move quickly and unsteadily, like flame or +water.</p> +<p><b>thorp</b>, a cluster of houses; a hamlet.</p> +<p><b>sharps</b> and <b>trebles</b>, terms in music. They are +here used to describe the sound of the brook.</p> +<p><b>eddying</b>, moving in circles. Why are "eddying bays" +dangerous to the swimmer?</p> +<p><b>fretted banks</b>, banks worn away by the action of the +water.</p> +<p><b>fallow</b>, plowed land, foreland, a point of land running +into the sea or other water.</p> +<p><b>mallow</b>, a kind of plant.</p> +<p><b>gloom</b>, to shine obscurely.</p> +<p><b>shingly</b>, abounding with shingle or loose gravel.</p> +<p><b>bars</b>, banks of sand or gravel or rock forming a shoal +in a river or harbor.</p> +<p><b>cresses</b>, certain plants which grow near the water. They +are sometimes used as a salad.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_37_"></a> +<h1>_37_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>wits</td> +<td>hale</td> +<td>borne</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>suit' ed</td> +<td>prop' er ly</td> +<td>sit u a' tion</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_4">LEARNING TO THINK.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>Grandpa Dennis is one of the kindest and gentlest, as well as +one of the wisest men I know; and although his step is somewhat +feeble, and the few locks that are left him are gray, he is still +more hale and hearty than many a younger man.</p> +<p>Like all old people whose hearts are in the right place, he is +fond of children, whom he likes to amuse and instruct by his +pleasant talk, as they gather round his fireside or sit upon his +knee.</p> +<p>Sometimes he puts questions to the young folks, not only to +find out what they know, but also to sharpen their wits and lead +them to think.</p> +<p>"Tell me, Norman," he said one day, as they sat together, "if +I have a cake to divide among three persons, how ought I to +proceed?"</p> +<p>"Why, cut it into three parts, and give one to each, to be +sure," said Norman.</p> +<p>"Let us try that plan, and see how it will succeed. Suppose +the cake has to be divided among you, Arthur and Winnie. If I cut +off a very thin slice for you, and divide what is left between +your brother and sister, will that be fair?"</p> +<p>"No, that would not be at all fair, Grandpa."</p> +<p>"Why not? Did I not divide the cake according to your advice? +Did I not cut it into three parts?"</p> +<p>"But one was larger than the other, and they ought to have +been exactly the same size."</p> +<p>"Then you think, that if I had divided the cake into three +equal parts, it would have been quite fair?"</p> +<p>"Yes; if you had done so, I should have no cause to +complain."</p> +<p>"Now, Norman, let us suppose that I have three baskets to send +to a distance by three persons; shall I act fairly if I give each +a basket to carry?"</p> +<p>"Stop a minute, Grandpa, I must think a little. No, it might +not be fair, for one of the baskets might be a great deal larger +than the others."</p> +<p>"Come, Norman, I see that you are really beginning to think. +But we will take care that the baskets are all of the same +size."</p> +<p>"Then it would be quite fair for each one to take a +basket."</p> +<p>"What! if one was full of lead, and the other two were filled +with feathers?"</p> +<p>"Oh, no! I never thought of that. Let the baskets be of the +same weight, and all will be right."</p> +<p>"Are you quite sure of that? Suppose one of the three persons +is a strong man, another a weak woman, and the third a little +child?"</p> +<p>"Grandpa! Grandpa! Why, I am altogether wrong. How many things +there are to think about."</p> +<p>"Well, Norman, I hope you see that if burdens have to be +equally borne, they must be suited to the strength of those who +have to bear them."</p> +<p>"Yes, I see that clearly now. Put one more question to me, +Grandpa, and I will try to answer it properly this time."</p> +<p>"Well, then, my next question is this: If I want a man to dig +for me, and three persons apply for the situation, will it not be +fair if I set them to work to try them, and choose the one who +does his task in the quickest time?"</p> +<p>"Are they all to begin their work at the same time?"</p> +<p>"A very proper question, Norman: yes, they shall all start +together."</p> +<p>"Has one just as much ground to dig as another?"</p> +<p>"Exactly the same."</p> +<p>"And will each man have a good spade?"</p> +<p>"Yes, their spades shall be exactly alike."</p> +<p>"But one part of the field may be soft earth, and the other +hard and stony."</p> +<p>"I will take care of that. All shall be fairly dealt with. The +ground shall be everywhere alike."</p> +<p>"Well, I think, Grandpa, that he who does his work first, if +done as well as that of either of the other two, is the best +man."</p> +<p>"And I think so, too, Norman; and if you go on in this way it +will be greatly to your advantage. Only form the habit of being +thoughtful in little things, and you will be sure to judge wisely +in important ones."</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>In the words <i>suit</i> (s[=u]t) and <i>soon</i> (s[=oo]n), +have the marked vowels the same sound?</p> +<br> + +<p>In the two statements,-</p> +I give it to you because it's good;<br> + Virtue brings its own reward;<br> + +<p>why is there an apostrophe in the first "it's," and none in +the second?</p> +Let your hands be honest and clean-<br> + Let your conscience be honest and clean-<br> + +<p>Combine these two sentences by the word <i>and</i>; rewrite +them, omitting all needless words.</p> +<p>Compose two sentences, one having the action-word +<i>learned</i>; the other the word <i>taught</i>.</p> +<p>Fill each of the following blank spaces with the correct form +of the action-word <i>bear</i>:</p> +As Christ - His cross, so must we - ours.<br> + Our cross must be -. "And - His own<br> + cross, He went forth to Calvary."<br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_38_"></a> +<h1>_38_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>elate'</td> +<td>despond'</td> +<td>lu' mi nous</td> +<td>pil' grim age</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_4">ONE BY ONE.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>One by one the sands are flowing,<br> + <span class="c4">One by one the moments fall;</span><br> + Some are coming, some are going;<br> + <span class="c4">Do not strive to grasp them all.</span><br> +<br> + One by one thy duties wait thee;<br> + <span class="c4">Let thy whole strength go to each;</span><br> + Let no future dreams elate thee,<br> + <span class="c4">Learn thou first what these can +teach.</span><br> +<br> + One by one (bright gifts from Heaven)<br> + <span class="c4">Joys are sent thee here below;</span><br> + Take them readily when given,<br> + <span class="c4">Ready, too, to let them go.</span><br> +<br> + One by one thy griefs shall meet thee;<br> + <span class="c4">Do not fear an armed band;</span><br> + One will fade as others greet thee-<br> + <span class="c4">Shadows passing through the land.</span><br> +<br> + Do not look at life's long sorrow;<br> + <span class="c4">See how small each moment's pain;</span><br> + God will help thee for to-morrow,<br> + <span class="c4">So each day begin again.</span><br> +<br> + Every hour that fleets so slowly<br> + <span class="c4">Has its task to do or bear;</span><br> + Luminous the crown, and holy,<br> + <span class="c4">When each gem is set with care.</span><br> +<br> + Do not linger with regretting,<br> + <span class="c4">Or for passing hours despond;</span><br> + Nor, thy daily toil forgetting,<br> + <span class="c4">Look too eagerly beyond.</span><br> +<br> + Hours are golden links, God's token,<br> + <span class="c4">Reaching heaven; but one by one</span><br> + Take them, lest the chain be broken<br> + <span class="c4">Ere the pilgrimage be done.</span><br> + +<p><i>Adelaide A. Procter.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Choose any four lines of the poem, and tell what lesson each +line teaches.</p> +<p>Name some great works that were done little by little.</p> +<p>What does "Rome was not built in a day" mean?</p> +<p>Tell what is meant by "He that despiseth small faults shall +fall by little and little."</p> +<p>What is the real or literal meaning of the word +<i>gem</i>?</p> +<p>Find the word in the poem, and tell what meaning it has +there.</p> +<p>Explain the line-</p> +"Let no future dreams elate thee."<br> + +<p>What is meant by "building castles in the air?"</p> +<p>Study the whole poem line by line, and try to tell yourself +what each line means. Nearly every single line of it teaches an +important moral lesson. Find out what that lesson is.</p> +<p>Tell what you know of the author.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_39_"></a> +<h1>_39_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>ca noe'</td> +<td>sup' ple</td> +<td>fi' brous</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>res' in</td> +<td>sin' ews</td> +<td>tam' a rack</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>ooz' ing</td> +<td>bal' sam</td> +<td>sol' i ta ry</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>pli' ant</td> +<td>fis' sure</td> +<td>re sist' ance</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>som' ber</td> +<td>crev' ice</td> +<td>re splen' dent</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_4">THE BIRCH CANOE.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td><span class="c5">"Give me of your bark, O Birch +Tree!</span><br> + Of your yellow bark, O Birch Tree!<br> + Growing by the rushing river,<br> + Tall and stately in the valley!<br> + I a light canoe will build me,<br> + That shall float upon the river,<br> + Like a yellow leaf in autumn,<br> + Like a yellow water lily!<br> + <span class="c5">Lay aside your cloak, O Birch Tree!</span><br> + Lay aside your white-skin wrapper,<br> + For the summer time is coming,<br> + And the sun is warm in heaven,<br> + And you need no white-skin wrapper!"<br> + <span class="c5">Thus aloud cried Hiawatha</span><br> + In the solitary forest,<br> + When the birds were singing gayly,<br> + In the Moon of Leaves were singing.<br> + <span class="c5">And the tree with all its branches</span><br> + Rustled in the breeze of morning,<br> + Saying, with a sigh of patience,<br> + "Take my cloak, O Hiawatha!"<br> + <span class="c5">With his knife the tree he girdled;</span><br> + Just beneath its lowest branches,<br> + Just above the roots, he cut it,<br> + Till the sap came oozing outward;<br> + Down the trunk, from top to bottom,<br> + Sheer he cleft the bark asunder,<br> + With a wooden wedge he raised it,<br> + Stripped it from the trunk unbroken.<br> + <span class="c5">"Give me of your boughs, O Cedar!</span><br> + Of your strong and pliant branches,<br> + My canoe to make more steady,<br> + Make more strong and firm beneath me!"<br> + <span class="c5">Through the summit of the Cedar</span><br> + Went a sound, a cry of horror,<br> + Went a murmur of resistance;<br> + But it whispered, bending downward,<br> + "Take my boughs, O Hiawatha!"<br> + <span class="c5">Down he hewed the boughs of cedar</span><br> + Shaped them straightway to a framework,<br> + Like two bows he formed and shaped them,<br> + Like two bended bows together.<br> + <span class="c5">"Give me of your roots, O Tamarack!</span><br> + Of your fibrous roots, O Larch Tree!<br> + My canoe to bind together,<br> + So to bind the ends together,<br> + That the water may not enter,<br> + That the river may not wet me!"<br> + <span class="c5">And the Larch with all its fibers</span><br> + Shivered in the air of morning,<br> + Touched his forehead with its tassels,<br> + Said, with one long sigh of sorrow,<br> + "Take them all, O Hiawatha!"<br> + <span class="c5">From the earth he tore the fibers,</span><br> + Tore the tough roots of the Larch Tree.<br> + Closely sewed the bark together,<br> + Bound it closely to the framework.<br> + <span class="c5">"Give me of your balm, O Fir Tree!</span><br> + Of your balsam and your resin,<br> + So to close the seams together<br> + That the water may not enter,<br> + That the river may not wet me!"<br> + <span class="c5">And the Fir Tree, tall and somber,</span><br> + Sobbed through all its robes of darkness,<br> + Rattled like a shore with pebbles,<br> + Answered wailing, answered weeping,<br> + "Take my balm, O Hiawatha!"<br> + <span class="c5">And he took the tears of balsam,</span><br> + Took the resin of the Fir Tree,<br> + Smeared therewith each seam and fissure,<br> + Made each crevice safe from water.<br> + <span class="c5">"Give me of your quills, O Hedgehog!</span><br> + I will make a necklace of them,<br> + Make a girdle for my beauty,<br> + And two stars to deck her bosom!"<br> + <span class="c5">From a hollow tree the Hedgehog,</span><br> + With his sleepy eyes looked at him,<br> + Shot his shining quills, like arrows,<br> + Saying, with a drowsy murmur,<br> + Through the tangle of his whiskers,<br> + "Take my quills, O Hiawatha!"<br> + <span class="c5">From the ground the quills he +gathered,</span><br> + All the little shining arrows,<br> + Stained them red and blue and yellow,<br> + With the juice of roots and berries;<br> + Into his canoe he wrought them,<br> + Round its waist a shining girdle.<br> + Round its bows a gleaming necklace,<br> + On its breast two stars resplendent.<br> + <span class="c5">Thus the Birch Canoe was builded</span><br> + In the valley, by the river,<br> + In the bosom of the forest;<br> + And the forest's life was in it,<br> + All its mystery and its magic,<br> + All the lightness of the birch tree,<br> + All the toughness of the cedar,<br> + All the larch's supple sinews;<br> + And it floated on the river,<br> + Like a yellow leaf in autumn,<br> + Like a yellow water lily.<br> + +<p><i>Longfellow.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>From "Song of Hiawatha." Houghton, Mifflin & Co., +Publishers.</p> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/122.gif" width="314" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>Moon of Leaves</b>, month of May.</p> +<p><b>sheer</b>, straight up and down.</p> +<p><b>Tamarack</b>, the American larch tree.</p> +<p><b>fissure</b>, a narrow opening; a cleft.</p> +<p>What does Hiawatha call the bark of the birch tree?</p> +<p>Where did he get the balsam and resin? What use did he put +these to?</p> +<p>What are the drops of balsam called? Why?</p> +<p>NOTE.-"The bark canoe of the Indians is, perhaps, the lightest +and most beautiful model of all the water craft ever invented. It +is generally made complete with the bark of one birch tree, and +so skillfully shaped and sewed together with the roots of the +tamarack, that it is water-tight, and rides upon the water as +light as a cork."</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_40_"></a> +<h1>_40_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>pic' tures</td> +<td>pal' ace</td> +<td>four' teen</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>fa' mous ly</td> +<td>scul' lion</td> +<td>re past'</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>in hal' ing</td> +<td>en chant' ed</td> +<td>mat' tress</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>char' coal</td> +<td>land' scapes</td> +<td>ar' chi tect</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_4">PETER OF CORTONA.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>A little shepherd boy, twelve years old, one day gave up the +care of the sheep he was tending, and betook himself to Florence, +where he knew no one but a lad of his own age, nearly as poor as +himself, who had lived in the same village, but who had gone to +Florence to be scullion in the house of Cardinal Sachetti. It was +for a good motive that little Peter desired to come to Florence: +he wanted to be an artist, and he knew there was a school for +artists there. When he had seen the town well, Peter stationed +himself at the Cardinal's palace; and inhaling the odor of the +cooking, he waited patiently till his Eminence was served, that +he might speak to his old companion, Thomas. He had to wait a +long time; but at length Thomas appeared.</p> +<p>"You here, Peter! What have you come to Florence for?"</p> +<p>"I am come to learn painting."</p> +<p>"You had much better learn kitchen work to begin with; one is +then sure not to die of hunger."</p> +<p>"You have as much to eat as you want here, then?" replied +Peter.</p> +<p>"Indeed I have," said Thomas; "I might eat till I made myself +ill every day, if I chose to do it."</p> +<p>"Then," said Peter, "I see we shall do very well. As you have +too much and I not enough, I will bring my appetite, and you will +bring the food; and we shall get on famously."</p> +<p>"Very well," said Thomas.</p> +<p>"Let us begin at once, then," said Peter; "for as I have eaten +nothing to-day, I should like to try the plan directly."</p> +<p>Thomas then took little Peter into the garret where he slept, +and bade him wait there till he brought him some fragments that +he was freely permitted to take. The repast was a merry one, for +Thomas was in high spirits, and little Peter had a famous +appetite.</p> +<p>"Ah," cried Thomas, "here you are fed and lodged. Now the +question is, how are you going to study?"</p> +<p>"I shall study like all artists-with pencil and paper."</p> +<p>"But then, Peter, have you money to buy the paper and +pencils?"</p> +<p>"No, I have nothing; but I said to myself, 'Thomas, who is +scullion at his lordship's, must have plenty of money!' As you +are rich, it is just the same as if I was."</p> +<p>Thomas scratched his head and replied, that as to broken +victuals, he had plenty of them; but that he would have to wait +three years before he should receive wages. Peter did not mind. +The garret walls were white. Thomas could give him charcoal, and +so he set to draw on the walls with that; and after a little +while somebody gave Thomas a silver coin.</p> +<p>With joy he brought it to his friend. Pencils and paper were +bought. Early in the morning Peter went out studying the pictures +in the galleries, the statues in the streets, the landscapes in +the neighborhood; and in the evening, tired and hungry, but +enchanted with what he had seen, he crept back into the garret, +where he was always sure to find his dinner hidden under the +mattress, <i>to keep it warm,</i> as Thomas said. Very soon the +first charcoal drawings were rubbed off, and Peter drew his best +designs to ornament his friend's room.</p> +<p>One day Cardinal Sachetti, who was restoring his palace, came +with the architect to the very top of the house, and happened to +enter the scullion's garret. The room was empty; but both +Cardinal and architect were struck with the genius of the +drawings. They thought they were executed by Thomas, and his +Eminence sent for him. When poor Thomas heard that the Cardinal +had been in the garret, and had seen what he called Peter's +daubs, he thought all was lost.</p> +<p>"You will no longer be a scullion," said the Cardinal to him; +and Thomas, thinking this meant banishment and disgrace, fell on +his knees, and cried, "Oh! my lord, what will become of poor +Peter?"</p> +<p>The Cardinal made him tell his story.</p> +<p>"Bring him to me when he comes in to-night," said he, +smiling.</p> +<p>But Peter did not return that night, nor the next, till at +length a fortnight had passed without a sign of him. At last came +the news that the monks of a distant convent had received and +kept with them a boy of fourteen, who had come to ask permission +to copy a painting of Raphael in the chapel of the convent. This +boy was Peter. Finally, the Cardinal sent him as a pupil to one +of the first artists in Rome.</p> +<p>Fifty years afterwards there were two old men who lived as +brothers in one of the most beautiful houses in Florence. One +said of the other, "He is the greatest painter of our age." The +other said of the first, "He is a model for evermore of a +faithful friend."</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>Peter of Cortona</b>, a great Italian painter and +architect. He was born in Cortona in the year 1596, and died in +Rome, in 1669.</p> +<p><b>Eminence</b>, a title of honor, applied to a cardinal.</p> +<p><b>galleries</b>, rooms or buildings where works of art are +exhibited.</p> +<p><b>victuals</b> (v[)i]t' 'lz), cooked food for human +beings.</p> +<p><b>fortnight</b> (f[^o]rt' n[=i]t or n[)i]t): This word is +contracted from <i>fourteen nights.</i></p> +<p>Locate the cities of <i>Rome</i> and <i>Florence</i>.</p> +<p>Give words that mean the opposite of the following:</p> +<p>ill, bade, buy, first, old, begin, empty, enter, cooked, +merry, bought, friend, inhale, patient, palace, distant, +appeared, disgrace, famous, faithful, morning, enchanted.</p> +<p>Recite the words-"Oh, my lord, what will become of poor +Peter?"-as Thomas uttered them. Remember he was beseeching a +great <i>cardinal</i> in favor of a poor destitute <i>boy</i> +whom he loved as a brother. He <i>felt</i> what he said.</p> +<p>Do you find any humorous passages in the selection? Read them, +and tell wherein the humor lies.</p> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gems:</p> +<br> + +<p>When a friend asketh, there is no to-morrow.<br> + <i>Spanish Proverb.</i></p> +<p>Diligence overcomes difficulties; sloth makes them.<br> + <i>From "Poor Richard's Proverbs."</i></p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>A gift in need, though small indeed,<br> + Is large as earth and rich as heaven.<br> + +<p><i>Whittier</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_41_"></a> +<h1>_41_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>vas' sal</td> +<td>roy' al ly</td> +<td>beg' gar y</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>hom' age</td> +<td>sen' ti nel</td> +<td>dif' fer ence</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="FNanchor003"></a> +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_5">TO MY DOG BLANCO.</a><a href= +"#Footnote_003"><sup>[003]</sup></a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>My dear, dumb friend, low lying there,<br> + <span class="c4">A willing vassal at my feet,</span><br> + Glad partner of my home and fare,<br> + <span class="c4">My shadow in the street.</span><br> +<br> + I look into your great brown eyes,<br> + <span class="c4">Where love and loyal homage shine,</span><br> + And wonder where the difference lies<br> + <span class="c4">Between your soul and mine!</span><br> +<br> + For all the good that I have found<br> + <span class="c4">Within myself or human kind,</span><br> + Hath royally informed and crowned<br> + <span class="c4">Your gentle heart and mind.</span><br> +<br> + I scan the whole broad earth around<br> + <span class="c4">For that one heart which, leal and +true,</span><br> + Bears friendship without end or bound,<br> + <span class="c4">And find the prize in you.</span><br> +<br> + I trust you as I trust the stars;<br> + <span class="c4">Nor cruel loss, nor scoff of pride,</span><br> + Nor beggary, nor dungeon bars,<br> + <span class="c4">Can move you from my side!</span><br> +<br> + As patient under injury<br> + <span class="c4">As any Christian saint of old,</span><br> + As gentle as a lamb with me,<br> + <span class="c4">But with your brothers bold;</span><br> +<br> + More playful than a frolic boy,<br> + <span class="c4">More watchful than a sentinel,</span><br> + By day and night your constant joy<br> + <span class="c4">To guard and please me well.</span><br> +<br> + I clasp your head upon my breast-<br> + <span class="c4">The while you whine and lick my +hand-</span><br> + And thus our friendship is confessed,<br> + <span class="c4">And thus we understand!</span><br> +<br> + Ah, Blanco! did I worship God<br> + <span class="c4">As truly as you worship me,</span><br> + Or follow where my Master trod<br> + <span class="c4">With your humility,-</span><br> +<br> + Did I sit fondly at His feet,<br> + <span class="c4">As you, dear Blanco, sit at mine,</span><br> + And watch Him with a love as sweet,<br> + <span class="c4">My life would grow divine!</span><br> + +<p><i>J.G. Holland</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>From "The Complete Poetical Writings of J.G. Holland."</p> +<div class="c2"><img src="images/129.gif" width="348" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<a name="Footnote_003"></a><a href="#FNanchor003">[003]</a> +<blockquote>Copyright, 1879, 1881, by Charles Scribner's +Sons.</blockquote> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>leal</b> (l[=e]l), loyal, faithful.</p> +<p><b>dungeon</b> (d[)u]n' j[)u]n), a close, dark prison, +commonly underground.</p> +<p>Tell what is meant by the terms, dumb friend; willing vassal; +glad partner; my shadow; human kind; frolic boy.</p> +<p>What duty does Blanco teach his master?</p> +<p>Memorize the last two stanzas of the poem.</p> +<p>The three great divisions of time are <i>past, present, +future.</i> Tell what time each of the following action-words +expresses:</p> +<p>found, find, have found, will find, bears, shall bear, has +borne, crowned, will crown, did crown, crowns.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_42_"></a> +<h1>_42_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>ab'bot</td> +<td>clois'ter</td> +<td>min'ster</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>li'brary</td> +<td>chron' i cle</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_5">A STORY OF A MONK.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>Many hundreds of years ago there dwelt in a cloister a monk +named Urban, who was remarkable for his earnest and fervent +piety. He was a studious reader of the learned and sacred volumes +in the convent library. One day he read in the Epistles of St. +Peter the words, "One day is with the Lord as a thousand years, +and a thousand years as one day;" and this saying seemed +impossible in his eyes, so that he spent many an hour in +meditating upon it.</p> +<p>Then one morning it happened that the monk descended from the +library into the cloister garden, and there he saw a little bird +perched on the bough of a tree, singing sweetly, like a +nightingale. The bird did not move as the monk approached her, +till he came quite close, and then she flew to another bough, and +again another, as the monk pursued her. Still singing the same +sweet song, the nightingale flew on; and the monk, entranced by +the sound, followed her out of the garden into the wide +world.</p> +<p>At last he stopped, and turned back to the cloister; but every +thing seemed changed to him. Every thing had become larger, more +beautiful, and older,-the buildings, the garden; and in the place +of the low, humble cloister church, a lofty minster with three +towers reared its head to the sky. This seemed very strange to +the monk, indeed marvelous; but he walked on to the cloister gate +and timidly rang the bell. A porter entirely unknown to him +answered his summons, and drew back in amazement when he saw the +monk.</p> +<p>The latter went in, and wandered through the church, gazing +with astonishment on memorial stones which he never remembered to +have seen before. Presently the brethren of the cloister entered +the church; but all retreated when they saw the strange figure of +the monk. The abbot only (but not his abbot) stopped, and +stretching a crucifix before him, exclaimed, "In the name of +Christ, who art thou, spirit or mortal? And what dost thou seek +here, coming from the dead among us, the living?"</p> +<p>The monk, trembling and tottering like an old man, cast his +eyes to the ground, and for the first time became aware that a +long silvery beard descended from his chin over his girdle, to +which was still suspended the key of the library. To the monks +around, the stranger seemed some marvelous appearance; and, with +a mixture of awe and admiration, they led him to the chair of the +abbot. There he gave the key to a young monk, who opened the +library, and brought out a chronicle wherein it was written that +three hundred years ago the monk Urban had disappeared; and no +one knew whither he had gone.</p> +<p>"Ah, bird of the forest, was it then thy song?" said the monk +Urban, with a sigh. "I followed thee for scarce three minutes, +listening to thy notes, and yet three hundred years have passed +away! Thou hast sung to me the song of eternity which I could +never before learn. Now I know it; and, dust myself, I pray to +God kneeling in the dust." With these words he sank to the +ground, and his spirit ascended to heaven.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Copy the last paragraph, omitting all marks of +punctuation.</p> +<p>Close the book, and punctuate what you have written. Compare +your work with the printed page.</p> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gems:</p> +<br> + +<p>If thou wouldst live long, live well; for folly and wickedness +shorten life.</p> +<p><i>From "Poor Richard's Proverbs"</i></p> +<br> + +<p>The older I grow-and I now stand upon the brink of +eternity-the more comes back to me the sentence in the catechism +which I learned when a child, and the fuller and deeper becomes +its meaning: "What is the chief end of man? To glorify God, and +to enjoy Him forever."</p> +<p><i>Thomas Carlyle.</i></p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_43_"></a> +<h1>_43_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>dole</td> +<td>man' na</td> +<td>em' blem</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>re leased'</td> +<td>plumes</td> +<td>breathe</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>crim' son</td> +<td>feath' ered</td> +<td>soared</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>dou' bly</td> +<td>hom' i ly</td> +<td>ser'a phim</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_5">THE SERMON OF ST. FRANCIS.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Up soared the lark into the air,<br> + A shaft of song, a wingèd prayer,<br> + As if a soul, released from pain,<br> + Were flying back to heaven again.<br> +<br> + St. Francis heard; it was to him<br> + An emblem of the Seraphim;<br> + The upward motion of the fire,<br> + The light, the heat, the heart's desire.<br> +<br> + Around Assisi's convent gate<br> + The birds, God's poor who cannot wait,<br> + From moor and mere and darksome wood<br> + Came flocking for their dole of food.<br> +<br> + "O brother birds," St. Francis said,<br> + "Ye come to me and ask for bread,<br> + But not with bread alone to-day<br> + Shall ye be fed and sent away.<br> +<br> + "Ye shall be fed, ye happy birds<br> + With manna of celestial words;<br> + Not mine, though mine they seem to be,<br> + Not mine, though they be spoken through me.<br> +<br> + "O, doubly are ye bound to praise<br> + The great Creator in your lays;<br> + He giveth you your plumes of down,<br> + Your crimson hoods, your cloaks of brown.<br> +<br> + "He giveth you your wings to fly<br> + And breathe a purer air on high,<br> + And careth for you everywhere,<br> + Who for yourselves so little care!"<br> +<br> + With flutter of swift wings and songs<br> + Together rose the feathered throngs,<br> + And singing scattered far apart;<br> + Deep peace was in St. Francis' heart.<br> +<br> + He knew not if the brotherhood<br> + His homily had understood;<br> + He only knew that to one ear<br> + The meaning of his words was clear.<br> + +<p><i>Longfellow.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>From "Children's Hour and Other Poems." Houghton, Mifflin +& Co., Publishers.</p> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/136.gif" width="327" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<p>ST. FRANCIS PREACHING</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>lays</b>, songs.</p> +<p><b>Assisi</b> ([:a]s s[=e]' ze), a town of Italy, where St. +Francis was born in 1182.</p> +<p>What does "manna of celestial words" mean?</p> +<p>What is the singular form of seraphim?</p> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gem:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Every word has its own spirit,<br> + <span class="c4">True or false, that never dies;</span><br> + Every word man's lips have uttered<br> + <span class="c4">Echoes in God's skies.</span><br> + +<p><i>Adelaide A. Procter.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_44_"></a> +<h1>_44_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_5">GLORIA IN EXCELSIS.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Gloria in excelsis!<br> + <span class="c4">Sound the thrilling song;</span><br> + In excelsis Deo!<br> + <span class="c4">Roll the hymn along.</span><br> +<br> + Gloria in excelsis!<br> + <span class="c4">Let the heavens ring;</span><br> + In excelsis Deo!<br> + <span class="c4">Welcome, new-born King.</span><br> +<br> + Gloria in excelsis!<br> + <span class="c4">Over the sea and land,</span><br> + In excelsis Deo!<br> + <span class="c4">Chant the anthem grand.</span><br> +<br> + Gloria in excelsis!<br> + <span class="c4">Let us all rejoice;</span><br> + In excelsis Deo!<br> + <span class="c4">Lift each heart and voice.</span><br> +<br> + Gloria in excelsis!<br> + <span class="c4">Swell the hymn on high;</span><br> + In excelsis Deo!<br> + <span class="c4">Sound it to the sky.</span><br> +<br> + Gloria in excelsis!<br> + <span class="c4">Sing it, sinful earth,</span><br> + In excelsis Deo!<br> + <span class="c4">For the Savior's birth.</span><br> + +<p><i>Father Ryan.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>"Father Ryan's Poems." Published by P.J. Kenedy & Sons, +New York.</p> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/138.gif" width="309" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<p><i>Hofmann</i>.--"Glory to God in the highest; and on earth +peace to men of good will."</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_45_"></a> +<h1>_45_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>plied</td> +<td>won' drous</td> +<td>ex cite' ment</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>com mo' tion</td> +<td>vig' or</td> +<td>fo' li age</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>mar' vel ous</td> +<td>com pas' sion</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="FNanchor004"></a> +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_5">THE FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE.</a><a href= +"#Footnote_004"><sup>[004]</sup></a></h3> +<br> + +<p>Once upon a time the Forest was in a great commotion. Early in +the evening the wise old Cedars had shaken their heads and told +of strange things that were to happen. They had lived in the +Forest many, many years; but never had they seen such marvelous +sights as were to be seen now in the sky, and upon the hills, and +in the distant village.</p> +<p>"Pray tell us what you see," pleaded a little Vine; "we who +are not so tall as you can behold none of these wonderful +things."</p> +<p>"The whole sky seems to be aflame," said one of the Cedars, +"and the Stars appear to be dancing among the clouds; angels walk +down from heaven to the earth and talk with the shepherds upon +the hills."</p> +<p>The Vine trembled with excitement. Its nearest neighbor was a +tiny tree, so small it was scarcely ever noticed; yet it was a +very beautiful little tree, and the Vines and Ferns and Mosses +loved it very dearly.</p> +<p>"How I should like to see the Angels!" sighed the little Tree; +"and how I should like to see the Stars dancing among the clouds! +It must be very beautiful. Oh, listen to the music! I wonder +whence it comes."</p> +<p>"The Angels are singing," said a Cedar; "for none but angels +could make such sweet music."</p> +<p>"And the Stars are singing, too," said another Cedar; "yes, +and the shepherds on the hills join in the song."</p> +<p>The trees listened to the singing. It was a strange song about +a Child that had been born. But further than this they did not +understand. The strange and glorious song continued all the +night.</p> +<p>In the early morning the Angels came to the Forest singing the +same song about the Child, and the Stars sang in chorus with +them, until every part of the woods rang with echoes of that +wondrous song. They were clad all in white, and there were crowns +upon their fair heads, and golden harps in their hands. Love, +hope, joy and compassion beamed from their beautiful faces. The +Angels came through the Forest to where the little Tree stood, +and gathering around it, they touched it with their hands, kissed +its little branches, and sang even more sweetly than before. And +their song was about the Child, the Child, the Child, that had +been born. Then the Stars came down from the skies and danced and +hung upon the branches of the little Tree, and they, too, sang +the song of the Child.</p> +<p>When they left the Forest, one Angel remained to guard the +little Tree. Night and day he watched so that no harm should come +to it. Day by day it grew in strength and beauty. The sun sent it +his choicest rays, heaven dropped its sweetest dew upon it, and +the winds sang to it their prettiest songs.</p> +<p>So the years passed, and the little Tree grew until it became +the pride and glory of the Forest.</p> +<p>One day the Tree heard some one coming through the Forest. +"Have no fear," said the Angel, "for He who comes is the +Master."</p> +<p>And the Master came to the Tree and placed His Hands upon its +smooth trunk and branches. He stooped and kissed the Tree, and +then turned and went away.</p> +<div class="c2"><img src="images/142.gif" width="297" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<p><i>A.Bida.</i></p> +<p>Many times after that the Master came to the Forest, rested +beneath the Tree and enjoyed the shade of its foliage. Many times +He slept there and the Tree watched over Him. Many times men came +with the Master to the Forest, sat with Him in the shade of the +Tree, and talked with Him of things which the Tree never could +understand. It heard them tell how the Master healed the sick and +raised the dead and bestowed blessings wherever He walked.</p> +<p>But one night the Master came alone into the Forest. His Face +was pale and wet with tears. He fell upon His knees and prayed. +The Tree heard Him, and all the Forest was still. In the morning +there was a sound of rude voices and a clashing of swords.</p> +<div class="c2"><img src="images/143.gif" width="321" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<p><i>Hofmann.</i></p> +<p>Strange men plied their axes with cruel vigor, and the Tree +was hewn to the ground. Its beautiful branches were cut away, and +its soft, thick foliage was strewn to the winds. The Trees of the +Forest wept.</p> +<p>The cruel men dragged the hewn Tree away, and the Forest saw +it no more.</p> +<p>But the Night Wind that swept down from the City of the Great +King stayed that night in the Forest awhile to say that it had +seen that day a Cross raised on Calvary,-the Tree on which was +nailed the Body of the dying Master.</p> +<p><i>Eugene Field.</i></p> +<p>From "A Little Book of Profitable Tales." Published by Charles +Scribner's Sons.</p> +<br> + +<p><a name="Footnote_004"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor004">[004]</a></p> +<blockquote>Copyright, 1889, by Eugene Field.</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_46_"></a> +<h1>_46_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_5">THE HOLY CITY.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Last night I lay a-sleeping; there came a dream so fair;-<br> + I stood in old Jerusalem, beside the Temple there;<br> + I heard the children singing, and ever as they sang<br> + Methought the voice of Angels<br> + From Heaven in answer rang;-<br> + Methought the voice of Angels<br> + From Heaven in answer rang.<br> + Jerusalem, Jerusalem, lift up your gates and sing<br> + Hosanna in the highest! Hosanna to your King!<br> +<br> + And then methought my dream was changed;-<br> + The streets no longer rang<br> + Hushed were the glad Hosannas the little children sang.<br> + The sun grew dark with mystery,<br> + The morn was cold and chill,<br> + As the shadow of a cross arose upon a lonely hill;-<br> + As the shadow of a cross arose upon a lonely hill.<br> + Jerusalem, Jerusalem, hark! how the Angels sing<br> + Hosanna in the highest! Hosanna to your King!<br> +<br> + And once again the scene was changed-<br> + New earth there seemed to be;<br> + I saw the Holy City beside the tideless sea;<br> + The light of God was on its streets,<br> + The gates were open wide,<br> + And all who would might enter,<br> + And no one was denied.<br> + No need of moon or stars by night,<br> + Nor sun to shine by day;<br> + It was the New Jerusalem, that would not pass away,-<br> + It was the New Jerusalem, that would not pass away.<br> + Jerusalem, Jerusalem, sing, for the night is o'er,<br> + Hosanna in the highest! Hosanna forevermore!<br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_47_"></a> +<h1>_47_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>trea' son</td> +<td>eu' lo gies</td> +<td>de bat' ed</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>phi los' o phy</td> +<td>in ge nu' i ty</td> +<td>ap pro' pri ate</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>con' sum ma ted</td> +<td></td> +<td></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_5">THE FEAST OF TONGUES.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>Xanthus invited a large company to dinner, and Aesop was +ordered to furnish the choicest dainties that money could +procure. The first course consisted of tongues, cooked in +different ways and served with appropriate sauces. This gave rise +to much mirth and many witty remarks by the guests. The second +course was also nothing but tongues, and so with the third and +fourth. This seemed to go beyond a joke, and Xanthus demanded in +an angry manner of Aesop, "Did I not tell you to provide the +choicest dainties that money could procure?" "And what excels the +tongue?" replied Aesop, "It is the channel of learning and +philosophy. By it addresses and eulogies are made, and commerce +carried on, contracts executed, and marriages consummated. +Nothing is equal to the tongue." The company applauded Aesop's +wit, and good feeling was restored.</p> +<p>"Well," said Xanthus to the guests, "pray do me the favor of +dining with me again to-morrow. I have a mind to change the +feast; to-morrow," said he, turning to Aesop, "provide us with +the worst meat you can find." The next day the guests assembled +as before, and to their astonishment and the anger of Xanthus +nothing but tongues was provided. "How, sir," said Xanthus, +"should tongues be the best of meat one day and the worst +another?" "What," replied Aesop, "can be worse than the tongue? +What wickedness is there under the sun that it has not a part in? +Treasons, violence, injustice, fraud, are debated and resolved +upon, and communicated by the tongue. It is the ruin of empires, +cities, and of private friendships." The company were more than +ever struck by Aesop's ingenuity, and they interceded for him +with his master.</p> +<p><i>From "Aesop's Fables."</i></p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>Xanthus</b>, a Greek poet and historian, who lived in the +sixth century before Christ.</p> +<p>Write the plurals of the following words, and tell how they +are formed in each case:</p> +<p>dainty, sauce, eulogy, feast, city, chief, calf, day, lily, +copy, loaf, roof, half, valley, donkey.</p> +<p>What words are made emphatic by contrast in the following +sentence: "How should tongues be the best of meat one day and the +worst another?"</p> +<p>Memorize what Aesop said in praise of the tongue, and what he +said in dispraise of it.</p> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gem:</p> +<br> + +<p>"If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man. The +tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity. By it we bless God and the +Father; and by it we curse men who are made after the likeness of +God."</p> +<p><i>From "Epistle of St. James."</i></p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_48_"></a> +<h1>_48_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>ap' pe tite</td> +<td>ha rangued'</td> +<td>sus pend' ed</td> +<td>min' strel sy</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_5">THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE +GLOWWORM.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>A nightingale, that all day long<br> + Had cheered the village with his song,<br> + Nor yet at eve his note suspended,<br> + Nor yet when eventide was ended,<br> + Began to feel, as well he might,<br> + The keen demands of appetite;<br> + When, looking eagerly around,<br> + He spied far off, upon the ground,<br> + A something shining in the dark,<br> + And knew the glowworm by his spark;<br> + So, stooping down from hawthorn top,<br> + He thought to put him in his crop.<br> +<br> + The worm, aware of his intent,<br> + Harangued him thus, right eloquent:<br> + "Did you admire my lamp," quoth he,<br> + "As much as I your minstrelsy,<br> + You would abhor to do me wrong<br> + As much as I to spoil your song:<br> + For 'twas the self-same Power Divine<br> + Taught you to sing and me to shine;<br> + That you with music, I with light,<br> + Might beautify and cheer the night."<br> + The songster heard this short oration,<br> + And, warbling out his approbation,<br> + Released him, as my story tells,<br> + And found a supper somewhere else.<br> + <i>William Cowper.</i><br> +<br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<p>Why did the nightingale feel "The keen demands of +appetite?"</p> +<p>Do you admire the eloquent speech that the worm made to the +bird? Study it by heart. Copy it from memory. Compare your copy +with the printed page as to spelling, capitals and +punctuation.</p> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gems:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>I would not enter on my list of friends<br> + (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense,<br> + Yet wanting sensibility) the man<br> + Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.<br> + An inadvertent step may crush the snail<br> + That crawls at evening in the public path;<br> + But he that has humanity, forewarned,<br> + Will tread aside, and let the reptile live.<br> + +<p><i>William Cowper.</i></p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c7"> +<br> +<br> + Turn, turn thy hasty foot aside,<br> + <span class="c4">Nor crush that helpless worm!</span><br> + The frame thy wayward looks deride<br> + <span class="c4">Required a God to form.</span><br> +<br> + The common Lord of all that move.<br> + <span class="c4">From whom thy being flowed,</span><br> + A portion of His boundless love<br> + <span class="c4">On that poor worm bestowed.</span><br> +<br> + Let them enjoy their little day,<br> + <span class="c4">Their humble bliss receive;</span><br> + Oh! do not lightly take away<br> + <span class="c4">The life thou canst not give!</span><br> + +<p><i>Thomas Gisborne.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_49_"></a> +<h1>_49_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>mar' gin</td> +<td>pitch' er</td> +<td>cup' board</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>breathed</td> +<td>di' a mond</td> +<td>quiv' er ing</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_5">JACK FROST.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Jack Frost looked forth one still, clear night,<br> + And whispered, "Now I shall be out of sight;<br> + So, through the valley, and over the height,<br> + <span class="c4">In silence I'll take my way.</span><br> + I will not go on like that blustering train,<br> + The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain,<br> + Who make so much bustle and noise in vain;<br> + <span class="c4">But I'll be as busy as they!"</span><br> +<br> + Then he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest;<br> + He lit on the trees, and their boughs he dressed<br> + In diamond beads; and over the breast<br> + <span class="c4">Of the quivering lake he spread</span><br> + A coat of mail, that it need not fear<br> + The glittering point of many a spear,<br> + Which he hung on its margin, far and near,<br> + <span class="c4">Where a rock could rear its head.</span><br> +<br> + He went to the windows of those who slept,<br> + And over each pane, like a fairy, crept:<br> + Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepped,<br> + <span class="c4">By the morning light were seen</span><br> + Most beautiful things!-there were flowers and trees;<br> + There were bevies of birds, and swarms of bees;<br> + There were cities with temples and towers; and these<br> + <span class="c4">All pictured in silvery sheen!</span><br> +<br> + But he did one thing that was hardly fair;<br> + He peeped in the cupboard, and finding there<br> + That all had forgotten for him to prepare.-<br> + <span class="c4">"Now, just to set them a-thinking,</span><br> + I'll bite this basket of fruit," said he;<br> + "This costly pitcher I'll burst in three;<br> + And the glass of water they've left for me,<br> + Shall '<i>tchick</i>,' to tell them I'm drinking."<br> + +<p><i>Hannah F. Gould.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>crest</b>, top or summit.</p> +<p><b>coat of mail</b>, a garment of iron or steel worn by +warriors in olden times.</p> +<p><b>bevies</b>, flocks or companies.</p> +<p><b>sheen</b>, brightness.</p> +<p><b>tchick</b> a combination of letters whose pronunciation is +supposed to resemble the sound of breaking glass.</p> +<p>What did Jack Frost do when he went to the mountain?</p> +<p>How did he dress the boughs of the trees? What did he spread +over the lake? Why?</p> +<p>What could be seen after he had worked on "the windows of +those who slept?"</p> +<p>What mischief did he do in the cupboard, and why?</p> +<p>Is Jack Frost an artist? In what kind of weather does he work? +Why does he work generally at night?</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_50_"></a> +<h1>_50_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>re' al ize</td> +<td>pen' du lum</td> +<td>dil' i gent ly</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>sig nif' i cance</td> +<td>auc tion eer'</td> +<td>per sist' ent ly</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>in ex haust' i ble</td> +<td>un der stood'</td> +<td>hope' less ly</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>nev er the less</td> +<td></td> +<td></td> +<td></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_5">"GOING! GOING! GONE!"</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>The other day, as I was walking through a side street in one +of our large cities, I heard these words ringing out from a room +so crowded with people that I could but just see the auctioneer's +face and uplifted hammer above the heads of the crowd.</p> +<p>"Going! Going! Going! Gone!" and down came the hammer with a +sharp rap.</p> +<p>I do not know how or why it was, but the words struck me with +a new force and significance. I had heard them hundreds of times +before, with only a sense of amusement. This time they sounded +solemn.</p> +<p>"Going! Going! Gone!"</p> +<p>"That is the way it is with life," I said to myself;-"with +time." This world is a sort of auction-room; we do not know that +we are buyers: we are, in fact, more like beggars; we have +brought no money to exchange for precious minutes, hours, days, +or years; they are given to us. There is no calling out of terms, +no noisy auctioneer, no hammer; but nevertheless, the time is +"going! going! gone!"</p> +<p>The more I thought of it, the more solemn did the words sound, +and the more did they seem to me a good motto to remind one of +the value of time.</p> +<p>When we are young we think old people are preaching and +prosing when they say so much about it,-when they declare so +often that days, weeks, even years, are short. I can remember +when a holiday, a whole day long, appeared to me an almost +inexhaustible play-spell; when one afternoon, even, seemed an +endless round of pleasure, and the week that was to come seemed +longer than does a whole year now.</p> +<p>One needs to live many years before one learns how little time +there is in a year,-how little, indeed, there will be even in the +longest possible life,-how many things one will still be obliged +to leave undone.</p> +<p>But there is one thing, boys and girls, that you can realize +if you will try-if you will stop and think about it a little; and +that is, how fast and how steadily the present time is slipping +away. However long life may seem to you as you look forward to +the whole of it, the present hour has only sixty minutes, and +minute by minute, second by second, it is "going! going! gone!" +If you gather nothing from it as it passes, it is "gone" forever. +Nothing is so utterly, hopelessly lost as "lost time." It makes +me unhappy when I look back and see how much time I have wasted; +how much I might have learned and done if I had but understood +how short is the longest hour.</p> +<p>All the men and women who have made the world better, happier +or wiser for their having lived in it, have done so by working +diligently and persistently. Yet, I am certain that not even one +of these, when "looking backward from his manhood's prime, saw +not the specter of his mis-spent time." Now, don't suppose I am +so foolish as to think that all the preaching in the world can +make anything look to young eyes as it looks to old eyes; not a +bit of it.</p> +<p>But think about it a little; don't let time slip away by the +minute, hour, day, without getting something out of it! Look at +the clock now and then, and listen to the pendulum, saying of +every minute, as it flies,-"Going! going! gone!"</p> +<p><i>Helen Hunt Jackson.</i></p> +<p>From "Bits of Talk." Copyright, Little, Brown & Co., +Publishers.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>prosing</b>, talking in a dull way.</p> +<p>In the following sentences, instead of the words in italics, +use others that have the same general meaning:</p> +<p>I heard these words <i>ringing</i> out from a <i>room</i> so +<i>crowded</i> with <i>people</i> that I could <i>but</i> just +<i>see</i> the man's <i>face.</i> How <i>fast</i> and +<i>steadily</i> the present time is <i>slipping</i> away!</p> +<br> + +<p>Punctuate the following:</p> +<p>Go to the ant thou sluggard consider her ways and be wise.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_51_"></a> +<h1>_51_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>yearn</td> +<td>car' ol</td> +<td>mus' ing</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>stee' ple</td> +<td>mag' ic al</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_6">SEVEN TIMES TWO.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>You bells in the steeple, ring, ring out your changes,<br> + <span class="c4">How many soever they be,</span><br> + And let the brown meadowlark's note, as he ranges,<br> + <span class="c4">Come over, come over to me!</span><br> +<br> + Yet birds' clearest carol, by fall or by swelling,<br> + <span class="c4">No magical sense conveys;</span><br> + And bells have forgotten their old art of telling<br> + <span class="c4">The fortune of future days.</span><br> +<br> + "Turn again, turn again!" once they rang cheerily,<br> + <span class="c4">While a boy listened alone;</span><br> + Made his heart yearn again, musing so wearily<br> + <span class="c4">All by himself on a stone.</span><br> +<br> + Poor bells! I forgive you; your good days are over,<br> + <span class="c4">And mine, they are yet to be;</span><br> + No listening, no longing, shall aught, aught discover:<br> + <span class="c4">You leave the story to me.</span><br> +<br> + The foxglove shoots out of the green matted heather,<br> + <span class="c4">And hangeth her hoods of snow;</span><br> + She was idle, and slept till the sunshiny weather:<br> + <span class="c4">Oh, children take long to grow!</span><br> +<br> + I wish and I wish that the spring would go faster,<br> + <span class="c4">Nor long summer bide so late;</span><br> + And I could grow on like the foxglove and aster,<br> + <span class="c4">For some things are ill to wait.</span><br> +<br> + I wait for the day when dear hearts shall discover,<br> + <span class="c4">While dear hands are laid on my +head,</span><br> + "The child is a woman-the book may close over,<br> + <span class="c4">For all the lessons are said."</span><br> +<br> + I wait for my story: the birds cannot sing it,<br> + <span class="c4">Not one, as he sits on the tree;</span><br> + The bells cannot ring it, but long years, O bring it!<br> + <span class="c4">Such as I wish it to be.</span><br> + +<p><i>Jean Ingelow.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>"Turn again, turn again!"</b> Reference is here made to +Dick Whittington, a poor orphan country lad, who went to London +to earn a living, and who afterwards rose to be the first Lord +Mayor of that city.</p> +<br> + +<p>NOTE.-This poem is the second of a series of seven lyrics, +entitled "The Songs of Seven," which picture seven stages in a +woman's life. For the first of the series, "Seven Times One," see +page 44 of the Fourth Reader. Read it in connection with this. +"Seven Times Two" shows the girl standing at the entrance to +maidenhood, books closed and lessons said, longing for the years +to go faster to bring to her the happiness she imagines is +waiting.</p> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/156.gif" width="339" height= +"423" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_52_"></a> +<h1>_52_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>man' i fold</td> +<td>do mes' tic</td> +<td>pet' tish ly</td> +<td>in grat' i tude</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_6">MY MOTHER'S GRAVE.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>It was thirteen years since my mother's death, when, after a +long absence from my native village, I stood beside the sacred +mound beneath which I had seen her buried. Since that mournful +period, a great change had come over me. My childish years had +passed away, and with them my youthful character. The world was +altered, too; and as I stood at my mother's grave, I could hardly +realize that I was the same thoughtless, happy creature, whose +cheeks she so often kissed in an excess of tenderness.</p> +<p>But the varied events of thirteen years had not effaced the +remembrance of that mother's smile. It seemed as if I had seen +her but yesterday-as if the blessed sound of her well-remembered +voice was in my ear. The gay dreams of my infancy and childhood +were brought back so distinctly to my mind that, had it not been +for one bitter recollection, the tears I shed would have been +gentle and refreshing.</p> +<p>The circumstance may seem a trifling one, but the thought of +it now pains my heart; and I relate it, that those children who +have parents to love them may learn to value them as they +ought.</p> +<p>My mother had been ill a long time, and I had become so +accustomed to her pale face and weak voice, that I was not +frightened at them, as children usually are. At first, it is +true, I sobbed violently; but when, day after day, I returned +from school, and found her the same, I began to believe she would +always be spared to me; but they told me she would die.</p> +<p>One day when I had lost my place in the class, I came home +discouraged and fretful. I went to my mother's chamber. She was +paler than usual, but she met me with the same affectionate smile +that always welcomed my return. Alas! when I look back through +the lapse of thirteen years, I think my heart must have been +stone not to have been melted by it. She requested me to go +downstairs and bring her a glass of water. I pettishly asked her +why she did not call a domestic to do it. With a look of mild +reproach, which I shall never forget if I live to be a hundred +years old, she said, "Will not my daughter bring a glass of water +for her poor, sick mother?"</p> +<p>I went and brought her the water, but I did not do it kindly. +Instead of smiling, and kissing her as I had been wont to do, I +set the glass down very quickly, and left the room. After playing +a short time, I went to bed without bidding my mother good night; +but when alone in my room, in darkness and silence, I remembered +how pale she looked, and how her voice trembled when she said, +"Will not my daughter bring a glass of water for her poor, sick +mother?" I could not sleep. I stole into her chamber to ask +forgiveness. She had sunk into an easy slumber, and they told me +I must not waken her.</p> +<p>I did not tell anyone what troubled me, but stole back to my +bed, resolved to rise early in the morning and tell her how sorry +I was for my conduct. The sun was shining brightly when I awoke, +and, hurrying on my clothes, I hastened to my mother's chamber. +She was dead! She never spoke more-never smiled upon me again; +and when I touched the hand that used to rest upon my head in +blessing, it was so cold that it made me start.</p> +<p>I bowed down by her side, and sobbed in the bitterness of my +heart. I then wished that I might die, and be buried with her; +and, old as I now am, I would give worlds, were they mine to +give, could my mother but have lived to tell me she forgave my +childish ingratitude. But I cannot call her back; and when I +stand by her grave, and whenever I think of her manifold +kindness, the memory of that reproachful look she gave me will +bite like a serpent and sting like an adder.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gem:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>"But O for the touch of a vanished hand,<br> + And the sound of a voice that is still!"<br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_53_"></a> +<h1>_53_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>chide</td> +<td>be dewed'</td> +<td>em balmed'</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>be tide'</td> +<td>lin' gered</td> +<td>wor' shiped</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_6">THE OLD ARM-CHAIR.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>I love it, I love it; and who shall dare<br> + To chide me for loving that old Arm-chair?<br> + I've treasured it long as a sainted prize;<br> + I've bedewed it with tears, and embalmed it with sighs.<br> + 'Tis bound by a thousand bands to my heart;<br> + Not a tie will break, not a link will start.<br> + Would ye learn the spell?-a mother sat there!<br> + And a sacred thing is that old Arm-chair.<br> +<br> + In Childhood's hour I lingered near<br> + The hallowed seat with listening ear;<br> + And gentle words that mother would give,<br> + To fit me to die, and teach me to live.<br> + She told me that shame would never betide,<br> + With truth for my creed and God for my guide;<br> + She taught me to lisp my earliest prayer,<br> + As I knelt beside that old Arm-chair.<br> +<br> + I sat and watched her many a day,<br> + When her eye grew dim and her locks were gray;<br> + And I almost worshiped her when she smiled,<br> + And turned from her Bible to bless her child.<br> + Years rolled on; but the last one sped-<br> + My idol was shattered; my earth-star fled:<br> + I learned how much the heart can bear,<br> + When I saw her die in that old Arm-chair.<br> +<br> + 'Tis past, 'tis past, but I gaze on it now<br> + With quivering breath and throbbing brow:<br> + 'Twas there she nursed me; 'twas there she died;<br> + And Memory flows with lava tide.<br> + Say it is folly, and deem me weak,<br> + While the scalding drops start down my cheek;<br> + But I love it, I love it; and cannot tear<br> + My soul from a mother's old Arm-chair.<br> + +<p><i>Eliza Cook.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>spell</b>, a verse or phrase or word supposed to have +magical power; a charm.</p> +<p><b>hallowed</b>, made holy. <b>hollowed</b>, made a hole out +of; made hollow. Use these two words in sentences of your +own.</p> +<p>What is meant by "Memory flows with lava tide?"</p> +<p>Write a two-paragraph description of an old arm-chair. Your +imagination will furnish you with all needed details.</p> +<p>Divide the following words into their syllables, and mark the +accented syllable of each:</p> +<p>absurd, every, nature, mature, leisure, valuable, safety, +again, virtue, ancient, weather, history, poetry, mother, +genuine, earliest, fatigued, business.</p> +<p>The dictionary will aid you.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_54_"></a> +<h1>_54_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>crags</td> +<td>break</td> +<td>tongue</td> +<td>thoughts</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>ha' ven</td> +<td>sail' or</td> +<td>state' ly</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_6">BREAK, BREAK, BREAK!</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Break, break, break,<br> + <span class="c4">On thy cold gray stones, O sea!</span><br> + And I would that my tongue could utter<br> + <span class="c4">The thoughts that arise in me.</span><br> +<br> + O well for the fisherman's boy,<br> + <span class="c4">That he shouts with his sister at +play!</span><br> + O well for the sailor lad,<br> + <span class="c4">That he sings in his boat on the +bay!</span><br> +<br> + And the stately ships go on<br> + <span class="c4">To the haven under the hill;</span><br> + But O for the touch of a vanished hand,<br> + <span class="c4">And the sound of a voice that is +still!</span><br> +<br> + Break, break, break,<br> + <span class="c4">At the foot of thy crags, O sea!</span><br> + But the tender grace of a day that is dead<br> + <span class="c4">Will never come back to me.</span><br> + +<p><i>Tennyson</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/163.gif" width="304" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<p>Tennyson</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_55_"></a> +<h1>_55_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>barns</td> +<td>deaf en ing</td> +<td>i dol' a trous</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>pon' der</td> +<td>ca lum' ni ate</td> +<td>Be at' i tudes</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_6">GOD IS OUR FATHER.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>The Old Law, the Law given to the Jews on Mount Sinai, tended +to inspire the fear of God, which is the beginning of wisdom. It +was given amidst fire and smoke, thunders and lightnings, and +whatever else could fill the minds of the Jews with fear and +wonder. Compelled, as it were, by the idolatrous acts of His +chosen people, by their repeated rebellions, and their endless +murmurings, God showed Himself to them as the almighty Sovereign, +the King of kings, the Lord of lords, whose holiness, power, +majesty, and severity in punishing sin, filled their minds with +awe and dread.</p> +<p>It was not thus that the New Law, the Law of grace and love, +was given to the world. No dark cloud covered the mount of the +Beatitudes from which our Lord preached; no deafening thunders +were heard; no angry flashes of lightning were visible. There was +nothing forbidding in the voice, words, or appearance of the +Divine Lawgiver. In the whole exterior of our Savior there was a +something so sweet, so humble, so meek and captivating, that the +people were filled with admiration and love.</p> +<p>One of the most remarkable features of this first sermon that +Christ preached is the fact that He constantly called God our +Father. How beautifully His teachings reveal the spirit of the +Law of love! Listen to Him attentively, and ponder upon His +words:</p> +<p>"Take heed that you do not your justice before men, to be seen +by them: otherwise you shall not have a reward of your FATHER WHO +is in heaven.... But when thou dost alms, let not thy left hand +know what thy right hand doth; that thy alms may be in secret, +and thy FATHER WHO seeth in secret will repay thee.... Love your +enemies; do good to them that hate you; and pray for them that +persecute and calumniate you; that you may be the children of +your FATHER WHO is in heaven, Who maketh His sun to rise upon the +good and bad, and raineth upon the just and the unjust.</p> +<p>"Behold the birds of the air, for they neither sow, nor do +they reap, nor gather into barns: and your heavenly FATHER +feedeth them. Are not you of much more value than they?... If +you, then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your +children, how much more will your FATHER WHO is in heaven give +good things to them that ask Him.... For if you will forgive men +their offenses, your heavenly FATHER will forgive you also your +offenses. But if you will not forgive men, neither will your +FATHER forgive you your offenses.... Thus therefore shall you +pray: OUR FATHER Who art in heaven."</p> +<p>From these and many other similar expressions found in the +very first sermon which Jesus Christ ever preached, we learn that +it is the expressed will of God that we should look upon Him as +our loving Father; and that, however unworthy we may be, we +should look upon ourselves as His beloved children. There cannot +be a possible doubt of this, since it is taught so positively by +His only begotten Son, Who is "the Way, the Truth, and the +Life."</p> +<div class="c2"><img src="images/165.gif" width="600" height= +"420" alt="" border="0"></div> +<p><i>Henry le Jeune.</i></p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Sinai (s[=i]' n[=a]), a mountain in Arabia.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_56_"></a> +<h1>_56_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_6">HAPPY OLD AGE.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>"You are old, Father William," the young man cried;<br> + <span class="c4">"The few locks that are left you are +gray;</span><br> + You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man;<br> + <span class="c4">Now, tell me the reason, I pray."</span><br> +<br> + "In the days of my youth," Father William replied,<br> + <span class="c4">"I remembered that youth would fly +fast,</span><br> + And abused not my health and my vigor at first,<br> + <span class="c4">That I never might need them at +last."</span><br> +<br> + "You are old, Father William," the young man cried,<br> + <span class="c4">"And life must be hastening away;</span><br> + You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death!<br> + <span class="c4">Now, tell me the reason, I pray."</span><br> +<br> + "I am cheerful, young man," Father William replied;<br> + <span class="c4">"Let the cause thy attention engage;</span><br> + In the days of my youth I remembered my God!<br> + <span class="c4">And He hath not forgotten my age."</span><br> + +<p><i>Robert Southey.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Tell the story of the poem in your own words. What are some of +the important lessons it teaches?</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_57_"></a> +<h1>_57_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>smit' ing</td> +<td>el' o quence</td> +<td>mes' mer ize</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>ges' ture</td> +<td>vin' e gar</td> +<td>un dy' ing ly</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_6">KIND WORDS.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>Kind words are the music of the world. They have a power which +seems to be beyond natural causes, as if they were some angel's +song, which had lost its way and come on earth, and sang on +undyingly, smiting the hearts of men with sweetest wounds, and +putting for the while an angel's nature into us.</p> +<p>Let us then think first of all of the power of kind words. In +truth, there is hardly a power on earth equal to them. It seems +as they could almost do what in reality God alone can do, namely, +soften the hard and angry hearts of men. Many a friendship, long, +loyal, and self-sacrificing, rested at first on no thicker a +foundation than a kind word.</p> +<p>Kind words produce happiness. How often have we ourselves been +made happy by kind words, in a manner and to an extent which we +are unable to explain! And happiness is a great power of +holiness. Thus, kind words, by their power of producing +happiness, have also a power of producing holiness, and so of +winning men to God.</p> +<p>If I may use such a word when I am speaking of religious +subjects, it is by voice and words that men mesmerize each other. +Hence it is that the world is converted by the voice of the +preacher. Hence it is that an angry word rankles longer in the +heart than an angry gesture, nay, very often even longer than a +blow. Thus, all that has been said of the power of kindness in +general applies with an additional and peculiar force to kind +words.</p> +<p><i>Father Faber.</i></p> +<p>From "Spiritual Conferences."</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Explain: Kind words are the music of the world-An angel's song +that had lost its way and come on earth-Smiting the hearts of men +with sweetest wounds-Putting an angel's nature into us-Hard and +angry hearts of men-An angry word rankles longer in the heart +than even a blow.</p> +<p>Mention some occasions when kind words addressed to you made +you very happy. Which will bring a person more happiness,-to have +kind words said to him, or for him to say them to another?</p> +<p>Memorize the first paragraph of the selection.</p> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gems:</p> +<br> + +<p>Kindness has converted more sinners than either zeal, +eloquence, or learning.</p> +<p><i>Father Faber.</i></p> +<br> + +<p>You will catch more flies with a spoonful of honey than with a +hundred barrels of vinegar.</p> +<p><i>St. Francis de Sales.</i></p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_58_"></a> +<h1>_58_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_6">KINDNESS IS THE WORD.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>Memorize:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="35%"> </td> +<td width="65%">"What is the real good?"<br> + I asked in musing mood.<br> +<br> + Order, said the law court;<br> + Knowledge, said the school;<br> + Truth, said the wise man;<br> + Pleasure, said the fool;<br> + Love, said the maiden;<br> + Beauty, said the page;<br> + Freedom, said the dreamer;<br> + Home, said the sage;<br> + Fame, said the soldier;<br> + Equity, said the seer;-<br> +<br> + Spake my heart full sadly:<br> + "The answer is not here."<br> +<br> + Then within my bosom<br> + Softly this I heard:<br> + "Each heart holds the secret:<br> + Kindness is the word."<br> + +<p><i>John Boyle O'Reilly.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>sage</b>, a wise man.</p> +<p><b>seer</b>, one who foresees events; a prophet.</p> +<p><b>equity</b> ([)e]k' w[)i] t[)y]), justice, fairness.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_59_"></a> +<h1>_59_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>va' cant</td> +<td>joc' und</td> +<td>pen' sive</td> +<td>spright' ly</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>sol' i tude</td> +<td>daf' fo dils</td> +<td>con tin' u ous</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_6">DAFFODILS.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>I wandered lonely as a cloud<br> + <span class="c4">That floats on high o'er vales and +hills,</span><br> + When all at once I saw a crowd,<br> + <span class="c4">A host, of golden daffodils,</span><br> + Beside the lake, beneath the trees,<br> + <span class="c4">Fluttering and dancing in the +breeze.</span><br> +<br> + Continuous as the stars that shine<br> + <span class="c4">And twinkle on the Milky Way,</span><br> + They stretched in never-ending line<br> + <span class="c4">Along the margin of the bay:</span><br> + Ten thousand saw I at a glance,<br> + <span class="c4">Tossing their heads in sprightly +dance.</span><br> +<br> + The waves beside them danced; but they<br> + <span class="c4">Outdid the sparkling waves in glee:</span><br> + A poet could not but be gay<br> + <span class="c4">In such a jocund company.</span><br> + I gazed,-and gazed,-but little thought<br> + <span class="c4">What wealth the show to me had +brought:</span><br> +<br> + For oft, when on my couch I lie<br> + <span class="c4">In vacant or in pensive mood,</span><br> + They flash upon that inward eye<br> + <span class="c4">Which is the bliss of solitude;</span><br> + And then my heart with pleasure fills,<br> + <span class="c4">And dances with the daffodils.</span><br> + +<p><i>William Wordsworth.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>Milky Way</b>, the belt of light seen at night in the +heavens, and is composed of millions of stars.</p> +<p>1st stanza: Explain, "I wandered lonely." To what does the +poet compare his loneliness?</p> +<p>What did the poet see "all at once?" Where? What were the +daffodils doing?</p> +<p>What picture do the first two lines bring to mind? Describe +the picture contained in the remaining lines of this stanza.</p> +<p>2d stanza: How does the poet tell what a great crowd of +daffodils there were? How would you tell it?</p> +<p>How does he say the daffodils were arranged? What does +<i>margin</i> mean?</p> +<p>How many daffodils did he see? In this stanza, what does he +say they were doing?</p> +<p>3d stanza: What is said of the waves? In what did the +daffodils surpass the waves?</p> +<p>What do the third and fourth lines of this stanza mean?</p> +<p>4th stanza: What does "in vacant mood" mean? "In pensive +mood?" "Inward eye?"</p> +<p>How does this inward eye make bliss for us in solitude?</p> +<p>What feelings did the thought of what he saw awaken in the +heart of the poet?</p> +<p>What changed the wanderer's loneliness, as told at the +beginning of the poem, to gayety, as told towards the end?</p> +<p>Commit the poem to memory.</p> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/171.gif" width="285" height= +"411" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_60_"></a> +<h1>_60_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>hos' tile</td> +<td>en dowed'</td> +<td>tu' mult</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>ac' o lyte</td> +<td>ep' i taph</td> +<td>grav' i ty</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>com' bat ants</td> +<td>pref' er ence</td> +<td>a maz' ed ly</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>ath let' ic</td> +<td>Vi at' i cum</td> +<td>in her' it ance</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>cem' e ter y</td> +<td>re tal' i ate</td> +<td>un flinch' ing ly</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>ir re sist' i ble</td> +<td>un vi' o la ted</td> +<td>con temp' tu ous ly</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_6">THE STORY OF TARCISIUS.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>At the time our story opens, a bloody persecution of the +Church was going on, and all the prisons of Rome were filled with +Christians condemned to death for the Faith. Some were to die on +the morrow, and to these it was necessary to send the Holy +Viaticum to strengthen their souls for the battle before them. On +this day, when the hostile passions of heathen Rome were +unusually excited by the coming slaughter of so many Christian +victims, it was a work of more than common danger to discharge +this duty.</p> +<p>The Sacred Bread was prepared, and the priest turned round +from the altar on which it was placed, to see who would be its +safest bearer. Before any other could step forward, the young +acolyte Tarcisius knelt at his feet. With his hands extended +before him, ready to receive the sacred deposit, with a +countenance beautiful in its lovely innocence as an angel's, he +seemed to entreat for preference, and even to claim it.</p> +<p>"Thou art too young, my child," said the kind priest, filled +with admiration of the picture before him.</p> +<p>"My youth, holy father, will be my best protection. Oh! do not +refuse me this great honor." The tears stood in the boy's eyes, +and his cheeks glowed with a modest emotion, as he spoke these +words. He stretched forth his hands eagerly, and his entreaty was +so full of fervor and courage, that the plea was irresistible. +The priest took the Divine Mysteries, wrapped up carefully in a +linen cloth, then in an outer covering, and put them on his +palms, saying-</p> +<p>"Remember, Tarcisius, what a treasure is intrusted to thy +feeble care. Avoid public places as thou goest along; and +remember that holy things must not be delivered to dogs, nor +pearls be cast before swine. Thou wilt keep safely God's sacred +gifts?"</p> +<p>"I will die rather than betray them," answered the holy youth, +as he folded the heavenly trust in the bosom of his tunic, and +with cheerful reverence started on his journey. There was a +gravity beyond the usual expression of his years stamped upon his +countenance, as he tripped lightly along the streets, avoiding +equally the more public, and the too low, thoroughfares.</p> +<p>As he was approaching the door of a large mansion, its +mistress, a rich lady without children, saw him coming, and was +struck with his beauty and sweetness, as, with arms folded on his +breast, he was hastening on. "Stay one moment, dear child," she +said, putting herself in his way; "tell me thy name, and where do +thy parents live?"</p> +<p>"I am Tarcisius, an orphan boy," he replied, looking up +smilingly; "and I have no home, save one which it might be +displeasing to thee to hear."</p> +<p>"Then come into my house and rest; I wish to speak to thee. +Oh, that I had a child like thee!"</p> +<p>"Not now, noble lady, not now. I have intrusted to me a most +solemn and sacred duty, and I must not tarry a moment in its +performance."</p> +<p>"Then promise to come to me tomorrow; this is my house."</p> +<p>"If I am alive, I will," answered the boy, with a kindled +look, which made him appear to her as a messenger from a higher +sphere. She watched him a long time, and after some deliberation +determined to follow him. Soon, however, she heard a tumult with +horrid cries, which made her pause on her way until they had +ceased, when she went on again.</p> +<p>In the meantime, Tarcisius, with his thoughts fixed on better +things than her inheritance, hastened on, and shortly came into +an open space, where boys, just escaped from school, were +beginning to play.</p> +<p>"We just want one to make up the game; where shall we get +him?" said their leader.</p> +<p>"Capital!" exclaimed another; "here comes Tarcisius, whom I +have not seen for an age. He used to be an excellent hand at all +sports. Come, Tarcisius," he added, stopping him by seizing his +arm, "whither so fast? take a part in our game, that's a good +fellow."</p> +<p>"I can't now; I really can't. I am going on business of great +importance."</p> +<p>"But you shall," exclaimed the first speaker, a strong and +bullying youth, laying hold of him. "I will have no sulking, when +I want anything done. So come, join us at once."</p> +<p>"I entreat you," said the poor boy feelingly, "do let me +go."</p> +<p>"No such thing," replied the other. "What is that you seem to +be carrying so carefully in your bosom? A letter, I suppose; +well, it will not addle by being for half an hour out of its +nest. Give it to me, and I will put it by safe while we +play."</p> +<p>"Never, never," answered the child, looking up towards +heaven.</p> +<p>"I <i>will</i> see it," insisted the other rudely; "I will +know what is this wonderful secret." And he commenced pulling him +roughly about. A crowd of men from the neighborhood soon got +round, and all asked eagerly what was the matter. They saw a boy, +who, with folded arms, seemed endowed with a supernatural +strength, as he resisted every effort of one much bigger and +stronger, to make him reveal what he was bearing. Cuffs, pulls, +blows, kicks, seemed to have no effect. He bore them all without +a murmur, or an attempt to retaliate; but he unflinchingly kept +his purpose.</p> +<p>"What is it? what can it be?" one began to ask the other; when +Fulvius chanced to pass by, and joined the circle round the +combatants. He at once recognized Tarcisius, having seen him at +the Ordination; and being asked, as a better-dressed man, the +same question, he replied contemptuously, as he turned on his +heel, "What is it? Why, only a Christian, bearing the +Mysteries."</p> +<p>This was enough. Heathen curiosity, to see the Mysteries of +the Christians revealed, and to insult them, was aroused, and a +general demand was made to Tarcisius to yield up his charge. +"Never with life," was his only reply. A heavy blow from a +smith's fist nearly stunned him, while the blood flowed from the +wound. Another and another followed, till, covered with bruises, +but with his arms crossed fast upon his breast, he fell heavily +on the ground. The mob closed upon him, and were just seizing, +him to tear open his thrice-holy trust, when they felt themselves +pushed aside right and left by some giant strength. Some went +reeling to the further side of the square, others were spun round +and round, they knew not how, till they fell where they were, and +the rest retired before a tall athletic officer, who was the +author of this overthrow. He had no sooner cleared the ground +than he was on his knees, and with tears in his eyes raised up +the bruised and fainting boy as tenderly as a mother could have +done, and in most gentle tones asked him, "Are you much hurt, +Tarcisius?"</p> +<p>"Never mind me, Quadratus," answered he, opening his eyes with +a smile; "but I am carrying the Divine Mysteries; take care of +them."</p> +<p>The soldier raised the boy in his arms with tenfold reverence, +as if bearing, not only the sweet victim of a youthful sacrifice, +a martyr's relics, but the very King and Lord of Martyrs, and the +divine Victim of eternal salvation. The child's head leaned in +confidence on the stout soldier's neck, but his arms and hands +never left their watchful custody of the confided gift; and his +gallant bearer felt no weight in the hallowed double burden which +he carried. No one stopped him, till a lady met him and stared +amazedly at him. She drew nearer, and looked closer at what he +carried. "Is it possible?" she exclaimed with terror, "is that +Tarcisius, whom I met a few moments ago, so fair and lovely?"</p> +<p>"Madam," replied Quadratus, "they have murdered him because he +was a Christian."</p> +<p>The lady looked for an instant on the child's countenance. He +opened his eyes upon her, smiled, and expired. From that look +came the light of faith-she hastened to be a Christian.</p> +<p>The venerable Dionysius could hardly see for weeping, as he +removed the child's hands, and took from his bosom, unviolated, +the Holy of Holies; and he thought he looked more like an angel +now, sleeping the martyr's slumber, than he did when living +scarcely an hour before. Quadratus himself bore him to the +cemetery of Callistus, where he was buried amidst the admiration +of older believers; and later a holy Pope composed for him an +epitaph, which no one can read without concluding that the belief +in the real presence of Our Lord's Body in the Blessed Eucharist +was the same then as now:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>"Christ's secret gifts, by good Tarcisius borne,<br> + <span class="c4">The mob profanely bade him to +display;</span><br> + He rather gave his own limbs to be torn,<br> + <span class="c4">Than Christ's Body to mad dogs +betray."</span><br> + +<p><i>Cardinal Wiseman.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>From "Fabiola; or, The Church of the Catacombs."</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>addle</b>, to become rotten, as eggs.</p> +<p><b>tunic</b>, a loose garment, reaching to the knees, and +confined at the waist by a girdle.</p> +<p><b>supernatural</b>, = prefix <i>super</i>, meaning +<i>above</i> or <i>beyond,</i> + <i>natural</i>.</p> +<p><b>-ion</b>, a suffix denoting <i>act, state, condition +of</i>. Define <i>emotion, objection, dejection, conversion, +submission, construction, admiration, persecution, observation, +revolution, deliberation.</i></p> +<p>Write a letter to a friend who has sent you a copy of +"Fabiola." Tell him how much you like the book, what you have +read in it, and thank him for sending it.</p> +<p>Make a list of the characters in the story of Tarcisius, and +tell what you like or dislike in each.</p> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gems:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>The boy, with proud, yet tear-dimmed eyes,<br> + <span class="c4">Kept murmuring under breath:</span><br> + "Before temptation-sacrifice!<br> + <span class="c4">Before dishonor-death!"</span><br> + +<p><i>Margaret J. Preston.</i></p> +<hr> +<br> + Dare to do right! Dare to be true!<br> + Other men's failures can never save you;<br> + Stand by your conscience, your honor, your faith;<br> + Stand like a hero, and battle till death.<br> + +<p><i>George L. Taylor.</i></p> +<hr> +<br> + Heroes of old! I humbly lay<br> + <span class="c4">The laurel on your graves again;</span><br> + Whatever men have done, men may-<br> + <span class="c4">The deeds you wrought are not in +vain.</span><br> + +<p><i>Austin Dobson.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_61_"></a> +<h1>_61_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>a jar'</td> +<td>chal' ice</td> +<td>a thwart'</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>rap' tur ous</td> +<td>sward</td> +<td>ter' race</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>jew' eled</td> +<td>ci bo' ri um</td> +<td>por' tal</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>vil' lain</td> +<td>au da' cious</td> +<td>sac ri le' gious</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_7">LEGEND OF THE WAXEN CIBORIUM.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>A summer night in Remy-strokes of the midnight bell,<br> + Like drops of molten silver, athwart the silence fell,<br> + Where 'mid the misty meadows, the circling crystal streams,<br> + A little village slumber'd,-locked in quiet dreams.<br> +<br> + A lily, green-embower'd, beside a mossy wood,<br> + With golden cross uplifted, the small white chapel stood,<br> + But in that solemn hour, the light of moon and star<br> + Upon its portal shining, revealed the door ajar!<br> +<br> + And lo! into the midnight, with noiseless feet, there ran<br> + From out the sacred shadows, a mask'd and muffl'd man,<br> + Who bore beneath his mantle, with sacrilegious hold,<br> + The Victim of the altar within Its vase of gold!<br> +<br> + To right-to left,-he faltered; then swift across the sward,<br> + (Like dusky demon fleeing), he bore the Hidden Lord;<br> + By mere and moonlit meadow his rapid passage sped,<br> + Till, at an open wicket, he paused with bended head.<br> +<br> + Behold! a grassy terrace,-a garden, wide and fair,<br> + And, 'mid the wealth of roses, a beehive nestling there.<br> + Across the flow'ring trellis, the villain cast his cloak,<br> + Upon the jeweled chalice, the moonbeams, sparkling, broke!<br> +<br> + O sacrilegious fingers! your work was quickly done!<br> + Within the hive (audacious!) he thrust the Holy One,<br> + Then gath'ring up his mantle to hide the treasure bright-<br> + Plunged back into the darkness, and vanish'd in the night.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + Forth in the summer morning, full of the sun and breeze,<br> + Into his dewy garden, walks the master of the bees.<br> + All silent stands the beehive,-no little buzzing things<br> + Among the flowers, flutter, on brown and golden wings.<br> +<br> + Untasted lies the honey within the roses' hearts,-<br> + The master paces nearer,-he listens-lo! he starts,<br> + What sounds of rapturous singing! O heaven! all alive<br> + With strange angelic music, is that celestial hive!<br> +<br> + Upon his knees adoring, the master, weeping, sees<br> + Within a honeyed cloister, the Chalice of the bees;<br> + For lo! the little creatures have reared a waxen shrine,<br> + Wherein reposes safely the Sacred Host Divine!...<br> +<br> + O little ones, who listen unto this legend old<br> + (Upon my shoulder blending your locks of brown and gold),<br> + From out the hands of sinners whose hearts are foul to see,<br> + Behold! the dear Lord Jesus appeals to you and me.<br> +<br> + He says: "O loving children! within your hearts prepare<br> + A hive of honeyed sweetness where I may nestle fair;<br> + Make haste, O pure affections! to welcome Me therein,<br> + Out of the world's bright gardens, out of the groves of Sin.<br> +<br> + "And in the night of sorrow (sweet sorrow), like the bees,<br> + Around My Heart shall hover your wingèd ministries,<br> + And while ye toil, the angels shall, softly singing come<br> + To worship Me, the Captive of Love's Ciborium!"<br> +<br> + +<p><i>Eleanor C. Donnelly.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>From "The Children of the Golden Sheaf." Published by P.C. +Donnelly.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>mere</b>, a waste place; a marsh.</p> +<p><b>trellis</b>, a frame of latticework.</p> +<p><b>waxen</b>, made of wax. <i>en</i> is here a suffix meaning +<i>made of.</i> Use <i>golden, leaden, wooden,</i> in sentences +of your own.</p> +<p>Synonyms are words which have very nearly the same meaning. +What does <i>revealed</i> mean? <i>cloister</i>? Find as many +synonyms of these two words as you can. Consult your +dictionary.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_62_"></a> +<h1>_62_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>stalked</td> +<td>ep'au lets</td> +<td>be hind' hand</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>se date'</td> +<td>trudg' ing</td> +<td>com pos' ed ly</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>fid' dler</td> +<td>strut' ted</td> +<td>ap pro ba' tion</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>re sumed'</td> +<td>af firmed'</td> +<td>dis a gree' a ble</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>whith er so ev' er</td> +<td></td> +<td></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_7">LITTLE DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>Daffy-down-dilly was so called because in his nature he +resembled a flower, and loved to do only what was beautiful and +agreeable, and took no delight in labor of any kind. But, while +Daffy-down-dilly was yet a little boy, his mother sent him away +from his pleasant home, and put him under the care of a very +strict schoolmaster, who went by the name of Mr. Toil. Those who +knew him best, affirmed that this Mr. Toil was a very worthy +character, and that he had done more good, both to children and +grown people, than anybody else in the world. Nevertheless, Mr. +Toil had a severe countenance; his voice, too, was harsh; and all +his ways seemed very disagreeable to our friend +Daffy-down-dilly.</p> +<p>The whole day long, this terrible old schoolmaster sat at his +desk, overlooking the pupils, or stalked about the room with a +certain awful birch rod in his hand. Now came a rap over the +shoulders of a boy whom Mr. Toil had caught at play; now he +punished a whole class who were behindhand with their lessons; +and, in short, unless a lad chose to attend constantly to his +book, he had no chance of enjoying a quiet moment in the +schoolroom of Mr. Toil.</p> +<p>"I can't bear it any longer," said Daffy-down-dilly to +himself, when he had been at school about a week. "I'll run away, +and try to find my dear mother; at any rate, I shall never find +anybody half so disagreeable as this old Mr. Toil." So, the very +next morning, off started poor Daffy-down-dilly, and began his +rambles about the world, with only some bread and cheese for his +breakfast, and very little pocket money to pay his expenses. But +he had gone only a short distance, when he overtook a man of +grave and sedate appearance, who was trudging along the road at a +moderate pace.</p> +<p>"Good-morning, my fine little lad," said the stranger; "whence +do you come so early, and whither are you going?" +Daffy-down-dilly hesitated a moment or two, but finally confessed +that he had run away from school, on account of his great dislike +to Mr. Toil; and that he was resolved to find some place in the +world where he should never see nor hear of the old schoolmaster +again. "Very well, my little friend," answered the stranger, "we +will go together; for I, also, have had a great deal to do with +Mr. Toil, and should be glad to find some place where his name +was never heard."</p> +<p>They had not gone far, when they passed a field where some +haymakers were at work, mowing down the tall grass, and spreading +it out in the sun to dry. Daffy-down-dilly was delighted with the +sweet smell of the new-mown grass, and thought how much +pleasanter it must be to make hay in the sunshine, under the blue +sky, and with the birds singing sweetly in the neighboring trees +and bushes, than to be shut up in a dismal schoolroom, learning +lessons all day long, and continually scolded by Mr. Toil.</p> +<p>But, in the midst of these thoughts, while he was stopping to +peep over the stone wall, he started back, caught hold of his +companion's hand, and cried, "Quick, quick! Let us run away, or +he will catch us!"</p> +<p>"Who will catch us?" asked the stranger.</p> +<p>"Mr. Toil, the old schoolmaster!" answered Daffy-down-dilly. +"Don't you see him among the haymakers?"</p> +<p>"Don't be afraid," said the stranger. "This is not Mr. Toil, +the schoolmaster, but a brother of his, who was bred a farmer; +and people say he is the more disagreeable man of the two. +However, he won't trouble you, unless you become a laborer on the +farm."</p> +<p>They went on a little farther, and soon heard the sound of a +drum and fife. Daffy-down-dilly besought his companion to hurry +forward, that they might not miss seeing the soldiers.</p> +<p>"Quick step! Forward march!" shouted a gruff voice.</p> +<p>Little Daffy-down-dilly started in great dismay; and, turning +his eyes to the captain of the company, what should he see but +the very image of old Mr. Toil himself, with a smart cap and +feather on his head, a pair of gold epaulets on his shoulders, a +laced coat on his back, a purple sash round his waist, and a long +sword, instead of a birch rod, in his hand! Though he held his +head high and strutted like a rooster, still he looked quite as +ugly and disagreeable as when he was hearing lessons in the +schoolroom.</p> +<p>"This is certainly old Mr. Toil," said Daffy-down-dilly, in a +trembling voice. "Let us run away, for fear he will make us +enlist in his company!"</p> +<p>"You are mistaken again, my little friend," replied the +stranger, very composedly. "This is not Mr. Toil, the +schoolmaster, but a brother of his, who has served in the army +all his life. People say he's a very severe fellow, but you and I +need not be afraid of him."</p> +<p>"Well, well," said Daffy-down-dilly, "but, if you please, sir, +I don't want to see the soldiers any more."</p> +<p>So the child and the stranger resumed their journey; and, by +and by, they came to a house by the roadside, where some people +were making merry. Young men and rosy-cheeked girls, with smiles +on their faces, were dancing to the sound of a fiddle.</p> +<p>"Let us stop here," cried Daffy-down-dilly to his companion; +"for Mr. Toil will never dare to show his face where there is a +fiddler, and where people are dancing and making merry. We shall +be quite safe here."</p> +<p>But these last words died away upon Daffy-down-dilly's tongue, +for, happening to cast his eyes on the fiddler, whom should he +behold again, but the likeness of Mr. Toil, holding a fiddle bow +instead of a birch rod.</p> +<p>"Oh, dear!" whispered he, turning pale, "it seems as if there +was nobody but Mr. Toil in the world. Who could have thought of +his playing on a fiddle!"</p> +<p>"This is not your old schoolmaster," said the stranger, "but +another brother of his, who was bred in France, where he learned +the profession of a fiddler. He is ashamed of his family, and +generally calls himself Mr. Pleasure; but his real name is Toil, +and those who have known him best, think him still more +disagreeable than his brother."</p> +<p>"Pray let us go a little farther," said Daffy-down-dilly. "I +don't like the looks of this fiddler."</p> +<p>Thus the stranger and little Daffy-down-dilly went wandering +along the highway, and in shady lanes, and through pleasant +villages; and, whithersoever they went, behold! there was the +image of old Mr. Toil.</p> +<p>He stood like a scarecrow in the cornfields. If they entered a +house, he sat in the parlor; if they peeped into the kitchen, he +was there. He made himself at home in every cottage, and, under +one disguise or another, stole into the most splendid +mansions.</p> +<p>"Oh, take me back!-take me back!" said poor little +Daffy-down-dilly, bursting into tears. "If there is nothing but +Toil all the world over, I may just as well go back to the +schoolhouse."</p> +<p>"Yonder it is,-there is the schoolhouse!" said the stranger; +for, though he and little Daffy-down-dilly had taken a great many +steps, they had traveled in a circle, instead of a straight line. +"Come; we will go back to school together."</p> +<p>There was something in his companion's voice that little +Daffy-down-dilly now remembered; and it is strange that he had +not remembered it sooner. Looking up into his face, behold! there +again was the likeness of old Mr. Toil; so the poor child had +been in company with Toil all day, even while he was doing his +best to run away from him.</p> +<p>When Daffy-down-dilly became better acquainted with Mr. Toil, +he began to think that his ways were not so very disagreeable, +and that the old schoolmaster's smile of approbation made his +face almost as pleasant as the face of his own dear mother.</p> +<p><i>Nathaniel Hawthorne.</i></p> +<br> + +<p>"Little Daffy-down-dilly and Other Stories." Houghton, Mifflin +& Co., Publishers.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>How will the following sentences read if you change the +name-words from the singular to the plural form: The old +schoolmaster has a rod in his hand. The boy likes his teacher. +The girl goes cheerfully on an errand for her mother. The pupil +attends to his book, and knows his lesson perfectly. Under the +blue sky, and while the bird was singing sweetly in tree and +bush, the farmer was making hay in his meadow. The man won't +trouble him unless he becomes a laborer on his farm. The captain +had a smart cap and feather on his head, a laced coat on his +back, a purple sash round his waist, and a long sword instead of +a birch rod in his hand.</p> +<p>From points furnished by your teacher, write a short +composition on "Our School." Be careful as to spelling, capitals, +punctuation, paragraphs, margin, penmanship, neatness and general +appearance.</p> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gems:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Evil is wrought by want of thought,<br> + As well as want of heart.<br> + +<p><i>Hood.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<p>It is not where you are, but what you are, that determines +your happiness.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_63_"></a> +<h1>_63_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>su' macs</td> +<td>char' coal</td> +<td>of fi' cial</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>fres' coes</td> +<td>in i' tial</td> +<td>rest' less ly</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_7">IN SCHOOL DAYS</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Still sits the schoolhouse by the road,<br> + <span class="c4">A ragged beggar sunning;</span><br> + Around it still the sumacs grow<br> + <span class="c4">And blackberry vines are running.</span><br> +<br> + Within, the master's desk is seen,<br> + <span class="c4">Deep scarred by raps official;</span><br> + The warping floor, the battered seats,<br> + <span class="c4">The jackknife's carved initial;</span><br> +<br> + The charcoal frescoes on its wall;<br> + <span class="c4">Its door's worn sill, betraying</span><br> + The feet that, creeping slow to school,<br> + <span class="c4">Went storming out to playing!</span><br> +<br> + Long years ago a winter sun<br> + <span class="c4">Shone over it at setting;</span><br> + Lit up its western window-panes,<br> + <span class="c4">And low eaves' icy fretting.</span><br> +<br> + It touched the tangled golden curls,<br> + <span class="c4">And brown eyes full of grieving,</span><br> + Of one who still her steps delayed<br> + <span class="c4">When all the school were leaving.</span><br> +<br> + For near her stood the little boy<br> + <span class="c4">Her childish favor singled;</span><br> + His cap pulled low upon a face<br> + <span class="c4">Where pride and shame were mingled.</span><br> +<br> + Pushing with restless feet the snow<br> + <span class="c4">To right and left, he lingered;</span><br> + As restlessly her tiny hands<br> + <span class="c4">The blue-checked apron fingered.</span><br> +<br> + He saw her lift her eyes; he felt<br> + <span class="c4">The soft hand's light caressing,</span><br> + And heard the tremble of her voice,<br> + <span class="c4">As if a fault confessing:</span><br> +<br> + "I'm sorry that I spelt the word;<br> + <span class="c4">I hate to go above you,</span><br> + Because,"-the brown eyes lower fell,-<br> + <span class="c4">"Because, you see, I love you!"</span><br> +<br> + Still memory to a gray-haired man<br> + <span class="c4">That sweet child-face is showing.</span><br> + Dear girl! the grasses on her grave<br> + <span class="c4">Have forty years been growing!</span><br> +<br> + He lives to learn, in life's hard school,<br> + <span class="c4">How few who pass above him</span><br> + Lament their triumph and his loss,<br> + <span class="c4">Like her,-because they love him.</span><br> + +<p><i>Whittier.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<p>From "Child Life in Poetry." Houghton, Mifflin & Co., +Publishers.</p> +<br> + <img src="images/194.gif" width="94" height="129" alt="" border= +"0"> +<p><i>John G. Whittier.</i></p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_64_"></a> +<h1>_64_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>Mars</td> +<td>so' lar (ler)</td> +<td>Ve' nus</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>plan' ets</td> +<td>Mer' cu ry</td> +<td>di am' e ter</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>com' pass es</td> +<td>sat' el lite</td> +<td>tel' e scope</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>grad' u al ly</td> +<td>in' ter est ing</td> +<td>cir cum' fer ence</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_7">THE SUN'S FAMILY</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>"Please tell me a story, Frank" said Philip, as the two boys +sat in the shade of a large tree.</p> +<p>"I have heard and read many wonderful stories. I will try to +recall one," said Frank.</p> +<p>"Let me see. Well-perhaps-I think that the most wonderful +story I have ever read is that of the solar system, or the sun's +family."</p> +<p>"Solar system!" repeated Philip. "That certainly sounds hard +enough to puzzle even a fairy. Please tell me all about it."</p> +<p>"That I should find much too hard" answered Frank. "But I'll +try to tell you what little I know. You see the sun there, don't +you--the great shining sun? Do you think the sun moves?"</p> +<p>"Of course it moves," said Philip. "I always see it in the +morning when I am in the garden. It rises first above the bushes, +then over the trees and houses; by evening it has traveled across +the sky, when it sinks below the houses and trees, out of sight +on the other side of the town."</p> +<p>"Now that is quite a mistake," said Frank, "You think that the +sun is traveling all that way along the sky, whereas it is really +we-we on this big ball of earth-who are moving. We are whirling +around on the outer surface, rushing on at the rate-let me +think-at the rate of more than one thousand miles a minute!"</p> +<p>"Frank, what do you mean?" cried Philip.</p> +<p>"I mean that the earth is moving many times faster than a ball +moves when shot from the mouth of a cannon!"</p> +<p>"Do you expect me to believe that, Frank! I can hardly believe +that this big, solid earth moves at all; but to think of it with +all the cities, towns, and people whirling round and round faster +than a ball from the mouth of a cannon, while we never feel that +it stirs one inch,-this is much harder to believe than all that +the fairies have ever told us."</p> +<p>"Yes, but it is quite true for all that," replied Frank.</p> +<p>"I have learned much about the motions of the planets, and +viewed the stars one night through a telescope. As I looked +through this instrument, the stars appeared to me much larger +than ever before. The earth is a planet, and there are besides +our earth seven large planets and many small ones, which also +whirl around the sun. Some of these planets are larger than our +world. Some of them also move much faster.</p> +<p>"The sun is in the middle with the planets moving around him. +The one nearest to the sun is Mercury."</p> +<p>"It must be hot there!" cried Philip.</p> +<p>"I dare say that if we were in Mercury we should be scorched +to ashes; but if creatures live on that planet, God has given +them a different nature from ours, so that they may enjoy what +would be dreadful to us.</p> +<p>"The next planet to Mercury is Venus. Venus is sometimes seen +shining so bright after sunset; then she is called the evening +star. Some of the time, a little before sunrise, she may be seen +in the east; she is then called the morning star.</p> +<p>"Venus can never be an evening star and a morning star at the +same time of the year. If you are watching her this evening +before or after sundown, there is no use getting up early +to-morrow to look for her again. For several weeks Venus remains +an evening star, then gradually disappears. Two months later you +may see her in the east-a bright morning star.</p> +<p>"Our earth is the third planet, and Mars is the fourth from +the sun. Now let us make a drawing of what we have been talking +about.</p> +<p>"First open the compasses one inch; describe a circle, and +make a dot on its circumference, naming it Mercury. Write on this +circle eighty-eight days; this shows the time it takes Mercury to +travel around the sun. Make another circle three and one-half +inches in diameter and make a dot on it. This represents Venus. +It takes Venus two hundred twenty-five days to journey around the +sun.</p> +<p>"The next circle we have to draw is a very interesting one to +us. The compasses must be opened two and one-half inches. The +path made represents the journey we take in three hundred +sixty-five days.</p> +<p>"One more circle must be drawn to complete our little plan. +This circle must be eight inches in diameter. You see Mars is +much farther from the sun than our earth is. It takes him six +hundred eighty-seven days to make the trip around the sun. The +other planets are too far away to be put in this plan."</p> +<p>"O, Frank, you have missed the biggest of all-the moon!" said +Philip.</p> +<p>"O, no, no!" exclaimed Frank. "The moon is quite a little +ball. It is less than seven thousand miles around her, while our +earth is twenty-five thousand miles around."</p> +<p>"Is that a little ball, Frank?"</p> +<p>"Yes, compared with the sun and the planets. The moon is what +is called a satellite-that is, a servant or an attendant. She is +a satellite of our earth. She keeps circling round and round our +earth, while we go circling round and round the sun.</p> +<p>"How fast the moon must travel! If I were to go rushing round +a field, and a bird should keep flying around my head, you see +that the movements of the bird would be much quicker than +mine."</p> +<p>"I can't understand it, Frank," said Philip. "The moon always +looks so quiet in the sky. If she is darting about like +lightning, why is it that she scarcely seems to move more than an +inch in ten minutes?"</p> +<p>"I suppose," said Frank, after a thoughtful silence, "that +what to us seems an inch in the sky is really many miles. You +know how very fast the steam cars seem to go when one is quite +near them, yet I have seen a train of cars far off which seemed +to go so slowly that I could fancy it was painted on the +sky."</p> +<p>"Yes, that must be the reason; but how do people find out +these curious things about the sun and the stars-to know how +large they are and how fast they go?" asked Philip.</p> +<p>"That is something we shall understand when we are older," +said Frank. "We must gain a little knowledge every day."</p> +<p>"Is the earth the only planet that has a moon?" asked +Philip.</p> +<p>"Mercury and Venus have no moons. Mars has two, and Jupiter +has four, but we can see them only when we look through a +telescope." replied Frank.</p> +<p>"Are all the twinkling stars which one sees on a fine clear +night, planets?" inquired Philip.</p> +<p>"Those that twinkle are not planets; they are fixed stars," +said Frank. "A planet does not twinkle. It has no light of its +own. It shines just as the moon shines, because the sun gives it +light."</p> +<p>"But our earth does not shine!" said Philip.</p> +<p>"Indeed it does," explained Frank. "Our earth appears to Venus +and Mars as a shining planet."</p> +<p>"There must be many more fixed stars than planets, then, for +almost every star that I can see twinkles and sparkles like a +diamond. Do these fixed stars all go around the sun?" asked +Philip.</p> +<p>"O, Philip! haven't you noticed that they are called fixed +stars to show that they do not move like planets? The word +<i>planet</i> means to <i>wander.</i> These fixed stars are suns +themselves, which may have planets of their own. They are so very +far away that we cannot know much about them, except that they +shine of themselves just as our sun does.</p> +<p>"We know that our sun gives light and heat to the planets and +satellites with which he is surrounded. We know that without his +warm rays there would not be any flowers or birds or any living +thing on the earth. So we can easily imagine that all other suns +are shining in the same way for the worlds that surround +them."</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Make a drawing of the sun and the three planets nearest it, as +directed in the lesson.</p> +<p>Fill each blank space in the following sentences with the +correct form of the action-word <i>draw</i>:</p> +<p>My boys like to - .</p> +<p>Yesterday they - the picture of an old mill.</p> +<p>They are now - a picture of the solar system.</p> +<p>The lines on the blackboard were - by John.</p> +<p>He - well.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_65_"></a> +<h1>_65_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>dew' y</td> +<td>clos'es</td> +<td>ca ress'</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>twined</td> +<td>wreaths</td> +<td>weath'er</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>brook' let</td> +<td>togeth'er</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_7">WILL AND I</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>We roam the hills together,<br> + In the golden summer weather,<br> + <span class="c8">Will and I;</span><br> + And the glowing sunbeams bless us,<br> + And the winds of heaven caress us,<br> + <span class="c4">As we wander hand in hand</span><br> + <span class="c4">Through the blissful summer land,</span><br> + <span class="c8">Will and I.</span><br> +<br> + Where the tinkling brooklet passes<br> + Through the heart of dewy grasses,<br> + <span class="c8">Will and I</span><br> + Have heard the mock-bird singing,<br> + And the field lark seen upspringing,<br> + <span class="c4">In his happy flight afar,</span><br> + <span class="c4">Like a tiny winged star-</span><br> + <span class="c8">Will and I.</span><br> +<br> + Amid cool forest closes,<br> + We have plucked the wild wood-roses,<br> + <span class="c8">Will and I;</span><br> + And have twined, with tender duty,<br> + Sweet wreaths to crown the beauty<br> + <span class="c4">Of the purest brows that shine</span><br> + <span class="c4">With a mother-love divine,</span><br> + <span class="c8">Will and I.</span><br> +<br> + Ah! thus we roam together,<br> + Through the golden summer weather,<br> + <span class="c8">Will and I;</span><br> + While the glowing sunbeams bless us,<br> + And the winds of heaven caress us,<br> + <span class="c4">As we wander hand in hand</span><br> + <span class="c4">O'er the blissful summer land,</span><br> + <span class="c8">Will and I.</span><br> + +<p><i>Paul H. Hayne.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>closes</b>, small inclosed fields.</p> +<p>Write about what you and Will <i>saw, heard,</i> and +<i>did,</i> as you roamed together over the hills, through the +woods, along the brooklet, on a certain bright, clear day in +early summer. You are a country boy and Will is your city cousin. +If you begin your composition by saying, "It was a beautiful +afternoon towards the end of June," keep the image of the day in +mind till the end of the paragraph; tell what <i>made</i> the day +beautiful,-such as the sun, the sky, the trees, the grass. In +other paragraphs tell the things you saw and heard in the order +in which you saw and heard them. Give a paragraph to what you did +in the "closes" of the cool forest, and why you plucked the wild +flowers. Conclude by telling what a pleasant surprise you gave +mother on your return home; and how she surprised you two hungry +boys during supper.</p> +<p>In your composition, use as many of the words and phrases of +the poem as you can.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_66_"></a> +<h1>_66_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>themes</td> +<td>her' e sy</td> +<td>ramp' ant</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>a chieved'</td> +<td>es cort ed</td> +<td>po ta'toes</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>trem' u lous</td> +<td>lux u' ri ous</td> +<td>cre du' li ty</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>in cred' i ble</td> +<td>phe nom' e non</td> +<td>pre ma ture' ly</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_7">CHRISTMAS DINNER AT THE +CRATCHITS'.</a></h3> +<div class="c2"><img src="images/206.gif" width="298" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<p>Tiny Tim and Bob Cratchit.</p> +<p>Then up rose Mrs. Cratchit, dressed out but poorly in a +twice-turned gown, but brave in ribbons, which are cheap; and she +laid the cloth, assisted by Belinda Cratchit, second of her +daughters, also brave in ribbons; while Master Peter Cratchit +plunged a fork into the saucepan of potatoes, and getting the +corners of his monstrous shirt-collar (Bob's private property, +conferred upon his son and heir in honor of the day) into his +mouth, rejoiced to find himself so gallantly attired. And now two +smaller Cratchits, boy and girl, came tearing in, screaming that +outside the baker's they had smelt the goose, and known it for +their own; and, basking in luxurious thoughts of sage and onions, +they danced about the table, and exalted Master Peter Cratchit to +the skies, while he (not proud, although his collar nearly choked +him) blew the fire, until the potatoes, bubbling up, knocked +loudly at the saucepan-lid to be let out and peeled.</p> +<p>"What has ever kept your precious father, then?" said Mrs. +Cratchit. "And your brother, Tiny Tim? And Martha wasn't as late +last Christmas Day by half an hour!"</p> +<p>"Here's Martha, mother!" cried the two young Cratchits. +"Hurrah! There's <i>such</i> a goose, Martha!"</p> +<p>"Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you are!" said +Mrs. Cratchit, kissing her a dozen times, and taking off her +shawl and bonnet for her with officious zeal.</p> +<p>"We'd a deal of work to finish up last night, and had to clear +away this morning, mother!"</p> +<p>"Well, never mind so long as you are come," said Mrs. +Cratchit. "Sit ye down before the fire, my dear, and have a warm, +Lord bless ye!"</p> +<p>"No, no! There's father coming," cried the two young +Cratchits, who were everywhere at once. "Hide, Martha, hide!"</p> +<p>So Martha hid herself, and in came the father, with at least +three feet of comforter, exclusive of the fringe, hanging down +before him; and his threadbare clothes darned up and brushed, to +look seasonable; and Tiny Tim upon his shoulder. Alas for Tiny +Tim, he bore a little crutch, and had his limb supported by an +iron frame.</p> +<p>"Why, where's our Martha?" cried Bob Cratchit, looking +round.</p> +<p>"Not coming," said Mrs. Cratchit.</p> +<p>"Not coming!" said Bob, with a sudden declension in his high +spirits; for he had been Tim's blood-horse all the way from +church, and had come home rampant. "Not coming upon Christmas +Day!"</p> +<p>Martha didn't like to see him disappointed, if it were only in +joke; so she came out prematurely from behind the closet door, +and ran into his arms, while the two young Cratchits hustled Tiny +Tim, and bore him off to the wash-house, that he might hear the +pudding singing in the copper.</p> +<p>"And how did little Tim behave?" asked Mrs. Cratchit, when she +had rallied Bob on his credulity, and Bob had hugged his daughter +to his heart's content.</p> +<p>"As good as gold," said Bob, "and better. Somehow he gets +thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest +things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the +people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it +might be pleasant to them to remember, upon Christmas Day, who +made lame beggars walk and blind men see."</p> +<p>Bob's voice was tremulous when he told them this, and trembled +more when he said that Tiny Tim was growing strong and +hearty.</p> +<p>His active little crutch was heard upon the floor, and back +came Tiny Tim before another word was spoken, escorted by his +brother and sister to his stool beside the fire; and while Bob +compounded some hot mixture in a jug, and put it on the hob to +simmer, Master Peter and the two ubiquitous young Cratchits went +to fetch the goose, with which they soon returned in high +procession.</p> +<p>Such a bustle ensued that you might have thought a goose the +rarest of all birds; a feathered phenomenon, to which a black +swan was a matter of course-and in truth it was something very +like it in that house. Mrs. Cratchit made the gravy hissing hot; +Master Peter mashed the potatoes with incredible vigor; Miss +Belinda sweetened up the apple sauce; Martha dusted the hot +plates; Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at the +table; the two young Cratchits set chairs for everybody, not +forgetting themselves, and, mounting guard upon their posts, +crammed spoons into their mouths, lest they should shriek for +goose before their turn came to be helped. At last the dishes +were set on, and grace was said. It was succeeded by a breathless +pause, as Mrs. Cratchit, looking slowly all along the carving +knife, prepared to plunge it in the breast; but when she did, and +when the long-expected gush of stuffing issued forth, one murmur +of delight arose all round the board, and even Tiny Tim, excited +by the two young Cratchits, beat on the table with the handle of +his knife, and feebly cried Hurrah!</p> +<p>Bob said he didn't believe there ever was such a goose cooked. +Its tenderness and flavor, size and cheapness, were the themes of +universal admiration. Eked out by apple sauce and mashed +potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family; +indeed, as Mrs. Cratchit said with great delight (surveying one +small atom of a bone upon the dish), they hadn't eaten it all at +last! Yet every one had had enough, and the youngest Cratchits in +particular were steeped in sage and onion to the eyebrows! But +now, the plates being changed by Miss Belinda, Mrs. Cratchit left +the room alone-too nervous to bear witnesses-to take the pudding +up and bring it in.</p> +<p>Suppose it should not be done enough! Suppose it should break +in turning out! Suppose somebody should have got over the wall of +the backyard and stolen it, while they were merry with the +goose-a supposition at which the two young Cratchits became +livid. All sorts of horrors were supposed.</p> +<p>Halloa! A great deal of steam! The pudding was out of the +copper. A smell like a washing day! That was the cloth. A smell +like an eating house and a pastry cook's next door to each other, +with a laundress's next door to that! That was the pudding! In +half a minute Mrs. Cratchit entered-flushed, but smiling +proudly-with the pudding like a speckled cannon ball, so hard and +firm, smoking hot, and bedight with Christmas holly stuck into +the top.</p> +<p>Oh, a wonderful pudding! Bob Cratchit said, and calmly too, +that he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by Mrs. +Cratchit since their marriage. Mrs. Cratchit said that, now the +weight was off her mind, she would confess she had her doubts +about the quantity of flour. Everybody had something to say about +it, but nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for +so large a family. It would have been flat heresy to do so. Any +Cratchit would have blushed to hint at such a thing.</p> +<p>At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared, the +hearth swept, and the fire made up. The compound in the jug being +tasted, and considered perfect, apples and oranges were put upon +the table, and a shovelful of chestnuts on the fire. Then all the +Cratchit family drew round the hearth in what Bob Cratchit called +a circle, meaning half a one; and at Bob Cratchit's elbow stood +the family display of glass,-two tumblers and a custard cup +without a handle.</p> +<p>These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as well as +golden goblets would have done; and Bob served it out with +beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the fire sputtered and +cracked noisily. Then Bob proposed: "A Merry Christmas to us all, +my dears. God bless us!"</p> +<p>Which all the family re[:e]choed.</p> +<p>"God bless us every one!" said Tiny Tim, the last of all.</p> +<p>He sat very close to his father's side, upon his little stool. +Bob held his withered little hand in his, as if he loved the +child, and wished to keep him by his side, and dreaded that he +might be taken from him.</p> +<img src="images/204.gif" width="93" height="129" alt="" border= +"0"> +<p><i>Charles Dickens.</i></p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>declension</b>, a falling downward.</p> +<p><b>copper</b>, a boiler made of copper.</p> +<p><b>rallied</b>, indulged in pleasant humor.</p> +<p><b>ubiquitous</b> (u b[)i]k' w[)i] t[)u]s), appearing to be +everywhere at the same time.</p> +<p><b>eked out</b>, added to; increased.</p> +<p><b>bedight</b>, bedecked; adorned.</p> +<p><b>re[:e]choed</b> (reëchoed): What is the mark placed +over the second <i>ë</i> called, and what does it +denote?</p> +<br> + +<p>NOTE.-"A Christmas Carol," from which the selection is taken, +is considered the best short story that Dickens wrote, and one of +the best Christmas stories ever written. The Cratchits were very +poor as to the goods of this world, but very rich in love, +kindness, and contentment.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_67_"></a> +<h1>_67_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_7">WHICH SHALL IT BE?</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Which shall it be? Which shall it be?<br> + I looked at John, John looked at me;<br> + And when I found that I must speak,<br> + My voice seemed strangely low and weak:<br> + "Tell me again what Robert said,"<br> + And then I, listening, bent my head-<br> + This is his letter: "I will give<br> + A house and land while you shall live,<br> + If in return from out your seven<br> + One child to me for aye is given."<br> +<br> + I looked at John's old garments worn;<br> + I thought of all that he had borne<br> + Of poverty, and work, and care,<br> + Which I, though willing, could not share;<br> + I thought of seven young mouths to feed,<br> + Of seven little children's need,<br> + <span class="c9">And then of this.</span><br> +<br> + <span class="c9">"Come, John," said I,</span><br> + "We'll choose among them as they lie<br> + Asleep." So, walking hand in hand,<br> + Dear John and I surveyed our band:<br> + First to the cradle lightly stepped,<br> + Where Lilian, the baby, slept.<br> + Softly the father stooped to lay<br> + His rough hand down in loving way,<br> + When dream or whisper made her stir,<br> + And huskily he said: "Not her!"<br> +<br> + We stooped beside the trundle-bed,<br> + And one long ray of lamplight shed<br> + Athwart the boyish faces there,<br> + In sleep so pitiful and fair;<br> + I saw on Jamie's rough, red cheek<br> + A tear undried. Ere John could speak,<br> + "He's but a baby too," said I,<br> + And kissed him as we hurried by.<br> + Pale, patient Robbie's angel face<br> + Still in his sleep bore suffering's trace-<br> + "No, for a thousand crowns, not him!"<br> + He whispered, while our eyes were dim.<br> +<br> + Poor Dick! bad Dick, our wayward son-<br> + Turbulent, restless, idle one-<br> + Could he be spared? Nay, He who gave<br> + Bade us befriend him to the grave;<br> + Only a mother's heart could be<br> + Patient enough for such as he;<br> + "And so," said John, "I would not dare<br> + To take him from her bedside prayer."<br> +<br> + Then stole we softly up above,<br> + And knelt by Mary, child of love;<br> + "Perhaps for her 'twould better be,"<br> + I said to John. Quite silently<br> + He lifted up a curl that lay<br> + Across her cheek in wilful way,<br> + And shook his head: "Nay, love, not thee,"<br> + The while my heart beat audibly.<br> +<br> + Only one more, our eldest lad,<br> + Trusty and truthful, good and glad,<br> + So like his father. "No, John, no!<br> + I cannot, will not, let him go."<br> + And so we wrote in courteous way,<br> + We could not give one child away;<br> + And afterwards toil lighter seemed,<br> + Thinking of that of which we dreamed,<br> + Happy in truth that not one face<br> + Was missed from its accustomed place,<br> + Thankful to work for all the seven,<br> + Trusting the rest to One in Heaven!<br> + +<p><i>Anonymous</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Write the story of the poem in the form of a composition. Tell +of the great affection of parents for their children. Even in the +poorest and most numerous families, what parent could think of +parting with a child for any sum of money?</p> +<p>Tell about the letter John and his wife received from a rich +man without children who wished to adopt one of their seven. Tell +about the offer the rich man made. What a great temptation this +was!</p> +<p>The parents considered the offer, looked into each other's +faces and asked, "Which shall it be?" Not the baby. Why? Not the +two youngest boys. Why? Not the poor helpless little cripple. +Why? Not the sweet child, Mary. Why? Not Dick, the wayward son. +Why? Not, for worlds, the oldest boy. Why?</p> +<p>Tell the answer the parents sent the rich man.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_68_"></a> +<h1>_68_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>Dor'o thy</td> +<td>in her'it ance</td> +<td>Cap pa do' ci a</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>ob' sti na cy</td> +<td>The oph' i lus</td> +<td>ex e cu' tion ers</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_7">ST. DOROTHY, MARTYR</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>The names of St. Catherine and St. Agnes, St. Lucy and St. +Cecilia, are familiar to us all; and to many of us, no doubt, +their histories are well known also. Young as they were, they +despised alike the pleasures and the flatteries of the world. +They chose God alone as their portion and inheritance; and He has +highly exalted them, and placed their names amongst those +glorious martyrs whose memory is daily honored in the holy +Sacrifice of the Mass.</p> +<p>St. Dorothy was another of these virgin saints. She was born +in the city of Cæsarea, and was descended of a rich and +noble family. While the last of the ten terrible persecutions, +which for three hundred years steeped the Church in the blood of +martyrs, was raging, Dorothy embraced the faith of Christ, and, +in consequence, was seized and carried before the Roman Prefect +of the city.</p> +<p>She was put to the most cruel tortures, and, at length, +condemned to death. When the executioners were preparing to +behead her, the Prefect said, "Now, at least, confess your folly, +and pray to the immortal gods for pardon."</p> +<p>"I pray," replied the martyr, "that the God of heaven and +earth may pardon and have mercy on you; and I will also pray when +I reach the land whither I am going."</p> +<p>"Of what land do you speak?" asked the judge, who, like most +of the pagans, had very little notion of another world.</p> +<p>"I speak of that land where Christ, the Son of God, dwells +with his saints," replied St. Dorothy. "<i>There</i> is neither +night nor sorrow; <i>there</i> is the river of life, and the +brightness of eternal glory; and <i>there</i> is a paradise of +all delight, and flowers that shall never fade."</p> +<p>"I pray you, then," said a young man, named Theophilus, who +was listening to her words with pity mingled with wonder, "if +these things be so, to send me some of those flowers, when you +shall have reached the land you speak of."</p> +<p>Dorothy looked at him as he spoke; and then answered: +"Theophilus, you shall have the sign you ask for." There was no +time for more; the executioner placed her before the block, and, +in another moment, with one blow, he struck off the head of the +holy martyr.</p> +<p>"Those were strange words," said Theophilus to one of his +friends, as they were about to leave the court; "but these +Christians are not like other people." "Their obstinacy is +altogether surprising," rejoined his friend; "death itself will +never make them waver. But who is this, Theophilus?" he +continued, as a young boy came up to them, of such singular +beauty that the eyes of all were fixed upon him with wonder and +admiration. He seemed not more than ten years old; his golden +hair fell on his shoulders, and in his hand he bore four roses, +two white and two red, and of so brilliant a color and rich a +fragrance that their like had never before been seen. He held +them out to Theophilus. "These flowers are for you," said he; +"will you not take them?" "And whence do you bring them, my boy?" +asked Theophilus. "From Dorothy," he replied, "and they are the +sign you even now asked for." "Roses, and in winter time!" said +Theophilus, as he took the flowers; "yea, and such roses as never +blossomed in any earthly garden. Prefect, your task is not yet +ended; your sword has slain one Christian, but it has made +another; I, too, profess the faith for which Dorothy died."</p> +<p>Within another hour, Theophilus was condemned to death by the +enraged Prefect; and on the spot where Dorothy had been beheaded, +he too poured forth his blood, and obtained the crown of +martyrdom.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>Cæsarea</b> (s[)e]s [.a] r[=e]' [.a]), an ancient +city of Palestine. It is celebrated as being the scene of many +events recorded in the New Testament.</p> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gem:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td> +<p>Virtue treads paths that end not in the grave.</p> +<p><i>A line from Lowell's "0de."</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/217.gif" width="295" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_69_"></a> +<h1>_69_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_7">TO A BUTTERFLY.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>I've watched you now a full half hour<br> + Self-poised upon that yellow flower;<br> + And, little butterfly, indeed<br> + I know not if you sleep or feed.<br> + How motionless!-not frozen seas<br> + <span class="c4">More motionless!-and then</span><br> + What joy awaits you, when the breeze<br> + Hath found you out among the trees,<br> + <span class="c4">And calls you forth again!</span><br> +<br> + This plot of orchard ground is ours;<br> + My trees they are, my sister's flowers;<br> + Here rest your wings when they are weary;<br> + Here lodge as in a sanctuary!<br> + Come often to us, fear no wrong;<br> + <span class="c4">Sit near us on the bough!</span><br> + We'll talk of sunshine and of song,<br> + And summer days, when we were young;<br> + Sweet childish days, that were as long<br> + <span class="c4">As twenty days are now!</span><br> + +<p><i>Wordsworth</i>.</p> +<img src="images/219.gif" width="208" height="360" alt="" border= +"0"></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>self-poised</b>, balanced.</p> +<p>What is a sanctuary? In the Temple at Jerusalem, what was the +Holy of Holies? Why are the sanctuaries of Catholic churches so +supremely holy?</p> +<p>Why are "sweet childish days" as long "As twenty days are +now?"</p> +<p>Tell what you know of the author's life.</p> +<p>Memorize the poem.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_70_"></a> +<h1>_70_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>re tort' ed</td> +<td>quizzed</td> +<td>in cred' i ble</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>man u fac' ture</td> +<td>sat' ire</td> +<td>vi o lin' ist</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>com pre hend'</td> +<td>me lo' di ous ly</td> +<td>hu' mor</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>ex hib' it</td> +<td>a chieve' ments</td> +<td>for' ests</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_7">THE PEN AND THE INKSTAND.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>In the room of a poet, where his inkstand stood upon the +table, it was said, "It is wonderful what can come out of an +inkstand. What will the next thing be? It is wonderful!"</p> +<p>"Yes, certainly," said the Inkstand. "It's +extraordinary-that's what I always say," he exclaimed to the pen +and to the other articles on the table that were near enough to +hear. "It is wonderful what a number of things can come out of +me. It's quite incredible. And I really don't myself know what +will be the next thing, when that man begins to dip into me. One +drop out of me is enough for half a page of paper; and what +cannot be contained in half a page?</p> +<p>"From me all the works of the poet go forth-all these living +men, whom people can imagine they have met-all the deep feeling, +the humor, the vivid pictures of nature. I myself don't +understand how it is, for I am not acquainted with nature, but it +certainly is in me. From me all things have gone forth, and from +me proceed the troops of charming maidens, and of brave knights +on prancing steeds, and all the lame and the blind, and I don't +know what more-I assure you I don't think of anything."</p> +<p>"There you are right," said the Pen; "you don't think at all; +for if you did, you would comprehend that you only furnish the +fluid. You give the fluid, that I may exhibit upon the paper what +dwells in me, and what I would bring to the day. It is the pen +that writes. No man doubts that; and, indeed, most people have +about as much insight into poetry as an old inkstand."</p> +<p>"You have but little experience," replied the Inkstand. +"You've hardly been in service a week, and are already half worn +out. Do you fancy you are the poet? You are only a servant; and +before you came I had many of your sorts, some of the goose +family, and others of English manufacture. I know the quill as +well as the steel pen. Many have been in my service, and I shall +have many more when <i>he</i> comes-the man who goes through the +motions for me, and writes down what he derives from me. I should +like to know what will be the next thing he'll take out of +me."</p> +<p>"Inkpot!" exclaimed the Pen.</p> +<p>Late in the evening the poet came home. He had been to a +concert, where he had heard a famous violinist, with whose +admirable performances he was quite enchanted. The player had +drawn a wonderful wealth of tone from the instrument; sometimes +it had sounded like tinkling water-drops, like rolling pearls, +sometimes like birds twittering in chorus, and then again it went +swelling on like the wind through the fir trees.</p> +<p>The poet thought he heard his own heart weeping, but weeping +melodiously, like the sound of woman's voice. It seemed as though +not only the strings sounded, but every part of the +instrument.</p> +<p>It was a wonderful performance; and difficult as the piece +was, the bow seemed to glide easily to and fro over the strings, +and it looked as though every one might do it. The violin seemed +to sound of itself, and the bow to move of itself-those two +appeared to do everything; and the audience forgot the master who +guided them and breathed soul and spirit into them. The master +was forgotten; but the poet remembered him, and named him, and +wrote down his thoughts concerning the subject:</p> +<p>"How foolish it would be of the violin and the bow to boast of +their achievements. And yet we men often commit this folly-the +poet, the artist, the laborer in the domain of science, the +general-we all do it. We are only the instruments which the +Almighty uses: to Him alone be the honor! We have nothing of +which we should be proud."</p> +<p>Yes, that is what the poet wrote down. He wrote it in the form +of a parable, which he called "The Master and the +Instrument."</p> +<p>"That is what you get, madam," said the Pen to the Inkstand, +when the two were alone again. "Did you not hear him read aloud +what I have written down?"</p> +<p>"Yes, what I gave you to write," retorted the Inkstand. "That +was a cut at you, because of your conceit. That you should not +even have understood that you were being quizzed! I gave you a +cut from within me-surely I must know my own satire!"</p> +<p>"Ink-pipkin!" cried the Pen.</p> +<p>"Writing-stick!" cried the Inkstand.</p> +<p>And each of them felt a conviction that he had answered well; +and it is a pleasing conviction to feel that one has given a good +answer-a conviction on which one can sleep; and accordingly they +slept upon it. But the poet did not sleep. Thoughts welled up +from within him, like the tones from the violin, falling like +pearls, rushing like the storm-wind through the forests. He +understood his own heart in these thoughts, and caught a ray from +the Eternal Master. To <i>Him</i> be all the honor!</p> +<p><i>Hans Christian Andersen.</i></p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>Pipkin</b>, a small pipe; a small jar made of baked +clay.</p> +<p>Write as many synonyms as you know, or can find, of the words +<i>vivid, exhibit, comprehend</i>. Consult the dictionary.</p> +<p>What one word may you use instead of "laborer in the domain of +science?"</p> +<p>Seek in your dictionary the definition of the word +<i>parable</i>. Relate one of our Lord's parables.</p> +<p>By means of the prefixes and suffixes that you have learned, +form as many words as you can from the following: man, do, late, +loud, art, room, blind, easy, heart, humor, vivid, maiden, +famous, service, furnished.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_71_"></a> +<h1>_71_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_8">THE WIND AND THE MOON.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Said the Wind to the Moon, "I will blow you out.<br> + <span class="c10">You stare in the air</span><br> + <span class="c10">Like a ghost in a chair,</span><br> + Always looking what I am about,<br> + I hate to be watched; I'll blow you out."<br> +<br> + The Wind blew hard, and out went the Moon.<br> + <span class="c10">So, deep on a heap</span><br> + <span class="c10">Of clouds, to sleep</span><br> + Down lay the Wind and slumbered soon,<br> + Muttering low, "I've done for that Moon."<br> +<br> + He turned in his bed; she was there again!<br> + <span class="c10">On high in the sky,</span><br> + <span class="c10">With her one ghost eye,</span><br> + The Moon shone white and alive and plain.<br> + Said the Wind, "I will blow you out again."<br> +<br> + The Wind blew hard, and the Moon grew dim.<br> + <span class="c10">"With my sledge and my wedge</span><br> + <span class="c10">I have knocked off her edge.</span><br> + If only I blow right fierce and grim,<br> + The creature will soon be dimmer than dim."<br> +<br> + He blew and he blew, and she thinned to a thread:<br> + <span class="c10">"One puff more's enough</span><br> + <span class="c10">To blow her to snuff!</span><br> + One good puff more where the last was bred,<br> + And glimmer, glimmer, glum, will go the thread."<br> +<br> + He blew a great blast, and the thread was gone,<br> + <span class="c10">In the air nowhere</span><br> + <span class="c10">Was a moonbeam bare;</span><br> + Far off and harmless the shy stars shone;<br> + Sure and certain the Moon was gone!<br> +<br> + The Wind he took to his revels once more;<br> + <span class="c10">On down, in town,</span><br> + <span class="c10">Like a merry-mad clown,</span><br> + He leaped and holloed with whistle and roar,-<br> + "What's that?" The glimmering thread once more!<br> +<br> + He flew in a rage-he danced and he blew;<br> + <span class="c10">But in vain was the pain</span><br> + <span class="c10">Of his bursting brain;</span><br> + For still the broader the moon-scrap grew,<br> + The broader he swelled his big cheeks, and blew.<br> +<br> + Slowly she grew, till she filled the night,<br> + <span class="c10">And shone on her throne</span><br> + <span class="c10">In the sky alone,</span><br> + A matchless, wonderful, silvery light,<br> + Radiant and lovely, the Queen of the Night.<br> +<br> + Said the Wind: "What a marvel of power am I!<br> + <span class="c10">With my breath, good faith!</span><br> + <span class="c10">I blew her to death-</span><br> + First blew her away right out of the sky,<br> + Then blew her in; what a strength am I!"<br> +<br> + But the Moon she knew nothing about the affair;<br> + <span class="c10">For, high in the sky,</span><br> + <span class="c10">With her one white eye,</span><br> + Motionless, miles above the air,<br> + She had never heard the great Wind blare.<br> + +<p><i>George MacDonald.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>down</b> (7th stanza), a tract of sandy, hilly land near +the sea.</p> +<p><b>glimmer</b>, fainter.</p> +<p><b>glum</b>, dark, gloomy.</p> +<p>What is a suffix? What does the suffix <i>less</i> mean? +Define <i>cloudless, matchless, motionless.</i></p> +<p>What class of people does Mr. Wind remind you of?</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_72_"></a> +<h1>_72_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>mi' ter</td> +<td>can'on</td> +<td>car' di nal</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>dis course'</td> +<td>di' a logue</td> +<td>cour'te ous ly</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_8">ST. PHILIP NERI AND THE YOUTH.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>St. Philip Neri, as old readings say,<br> + Met a young stranger in Rome's streets one day,<br> + And being ever courteously inclined<br> + To give young folks a sober turn of mind,<br> + He fell into discourse with him, and thus<br> + The dialogue they held comes down to us.<br> +<br> + <i>Saint</i>.-Tell me what brings you, gentle youth, to +Rome?<br> + <i>Youth</i>.-To make myself a scholar, sir, I come.<br> + <i>St</i>.-And when you are one, what do you intend?<br> + <i>Y</i>.-To be a priest, I hope, sir, in the end.<br> + <i>St</i>.-Suppose it so; what have you next in view?<br> + <i>Y</i>.-That I may get to be a canon too.<br> + <i>St</i>.-Well; and what then?<br> + <i>Y</i>.- Why then, for aught I know,<br> + I may be made a bishop.<br> + <i>St</i>.- Be it so,-<br> + <span class="c11">What next?</span><br> + <i>Y</i>.- Why, cardinal's a high degree;<br> + And yet my lot it possibly may be.<br> + <i>St</i>.-Suppose it was; what then?<br> + <i>Y</i>.- Why, who can say<br> + But I've a chance of being pope one day?<br> + <i>St</i>.-Well, having worn the miter and red hat,<br> + And triple crown, what follows after that?<br> +<br> + <i>Y</i>.-Nay, there is nothing further, to be sure,<br> + Upon this earth, that wishing can procure:<br> + When I've enjoyed a dignity so high<br> + As long as God shall please, then I must die.<br> +<br> + <i>St</i>.-What! must you die? fond youth, and at the best,<br> + But wish, and hope, and may be, all the rest!<br> + Take my advice-whatever may betide,<br> + For that which <i>must be</i>, first of all provide;<br> + Then think of that which <i>may be</i>; and indeed,<br> + When well prepared, who knows what may succeed,<br> + But you may be, as you are pleased to hope,<br> + Priest, canon, bishop, cardinal, and pope.<br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>St. Philip Neri</b>, born in Florence, Italy, in 1515. Went +to Rome in 1533, where he founded the "Priests of the Oratory," +and where he died in 1595.</p> +<p><b>triple crown</b>, the tiara; the crown worn by our Holy +Father, the Pope.</p> +<p>Use correctly in sentences the words <i>canon, cannon, +cañon.</i></p> +<br> + +<p>NOTE.-It will prove interesting if one pupil reads the first +six lines of the selection, and two others personate St. Philip +and the Youth.</p> +<p>The whole selection might be given from memory.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_73_"></a> +<h1>_73_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>mag' ic</td> +<td>sta' mens</td> +<td>de sert' ed</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>pet' als</td> +<td>pic' tures</td> +<td>dis cour' aged</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>liq' uid</td> +<td>sat' is fied</td> +<td>per se ver' ance</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_8">THE WATER LILY.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>There was once a little boy who was very fond of pictures. +There were not many pictures for him to look at, for he lived +long ago near a great American forest. His father and mother had +come from England, but his father was dead now. His mother was +very poor, but there were still a few beautiful pictures on the +walls of her house.</p> +<p>The little boy liked to copy these pictures; but as he was not +fond of work, he often threw his drawings away before they were +half done. He said that he wished that some good fairy would +finish them for him.</p> +<p>"Child," said his mother, "I don't believe that there are any +fairies. I never saw one, and your father never saw one. Mind +your books, my child, and never mind the fairies."</p> +<p>"Very well, mother," said the boy.</p> +<p>"It makes me sad to see you stand looking at the pictures," +said his mother another day, as she laid her hand on his curly +head. "Why, child, pictures can't feed a body, pictures can't +clothe a body, and a log of wood is far better to burn and warm a +body."</p> +<p>"All that is quite true, mother," said the boy.</p> +<p>"Then why do you keep looking at them, child?" but the boy +could only say, "I don't know, mother."</p> +<p>"You don't know! Nor I, neither! Why, child, you look at the +dumb things as if you loved them! Put on your cap and run out to +play."</p> +<p>So the boy wandered off into the forest till he came to the +brink of a little sheet of water. It was too small to be called a +lake; but it was deep and clear, and was overhung with tall +trees. It was evening, and the sun was getting low. The boy stood +still beside the water and thought how beautiful it was to see +the sun, red and glorious, between the black trunks of the pine +trees. Then he looked up at the great blue sky and thought how +beautiful it was to see the little clouds folding over one +another like a belt of rose-colored waves. Then he looked at the +lake and saw the clouds and the sky and the trees all reflected +there, down among the lilies.</p> +<p>And he wished that he were a painter, for he said to himself, +"I am sure there are no trees in the world with such beautiful +leaves as these pines. I am sure there are no clouds in the world +so lovely as these. I know this is the prettiest little lake in +the world, and if I could paint it, every one else would know it, +too."</p> +<p>But he had nothing to paint with. So he picked a lily and sat +down with it in his hand and tried very hard to make a correct +drawing of it. But he could not make a very good picture. At last +he threw down his drawing and said to the lily:</p> +<p>"You are too beautiful to draw with a pencil. How I wish I +were a painter!"</p> +<p>As he said these words he felt the flower move. He looked, and +the cluster of stamens at the bottom of the lily-cup glittered +like a crown of gold. The dewdrops which hung upon the stamens +changed to diamonds before his eyes. The white petals flowed +together, and the next moment a beautiful little fairy stood on +his hand. She was no taller than the lily from which she came, +and she was dressed in a robe of the purest white.</p> +<p>"Child, are you happy?" she asked.</p> +<p>"No," said the boy in a low voice, "because I want to paint +and I cannot."</p> +<p>"How do you know that you cannot?" asked the fairy.</p> +<p>"Oh, I have tried a great many times. It is of no use to try +any more."</p> +<p>"But I will help you."</p> +<p>"Oh," said the boy. "Then I might succeed."</p> +<p>"I heard your wish, and I am willing to help you," said the +fairy. "I know a charm which will give you success. But you must +do exactly as I tell you. Do you promise to obey?"</p> +<p>"Spirit of a water lily!" said the boy, "I promise with all my +heart."</p> +<p>"Go home, then," said the fairy, "and you will find a little +key on the doorstep. Take it up and carry it to the nearest pine +tree; strike the trunk with it, and a keyhole will appear. Do not +be afraid to unlock the door. Slip in your hand, and you will +bring out a magic palette. You must be very careful to paint with +colors from that palette every day. On this depends the success +of the charm. You will find that it will make your pictures +beautiful and full of grace.</p> +<p>"If you do not break the spell, I promise you that in a few +years you shall be able to paint this lily so well that you will +be satisfied; and that you shall become a truly great +painter."</p> +<p>"Can it be possible?" said the boy. And the hand on which the +fairy stood trembled for joy.</p> +<p>"It shall be so, if only you do not break the charm," said the +fairy. "But lest you forget what you owe to me, and as you grow +older even begin to doubt that you have ever seen me, the lily +you gathered to-day will never fade till my promise is +fulfilled."</p> +<p>The boy raised his eyes, and when he looked again there was +nothing in his hand but the flower.</p> +<p>He arose with the lily in his hand, and went home at once. +There on the doorstep was the little key, and in the pine tree he +found the magic palette. He was so delighted with it and so +afraid that he might break the spell that he began to work that +very night. After that he spent nearly all his time working with +the magic palette. He often passed whole days beside the sheet of +water in the forest. He painted it when the sun shone on it and +it was spotted all over with the reflections of fleeting white +clouds. He painted it covered with water lilies rocking on the +ripples. He painted it by moonlight, when but two or three stars +in the empty sky shone down upon it; and at sunset, when it lay +trembling like liquid gold.</p> +<p>So the years passed, and the boy grew to be a man. He had +never broken the charm. The lily had never faded, and he still +worked every day with his magic palette.</p> +<p>But no one cared for his pictures. Even his mother did not +like them. His forests and misty hills and common clouds were too +much like the real ones. She said she could see as good any day +by looking out of her window. All this made the young man very +unhappy. He began to doubt whether he should ever be a painter, +and one day he threw down his palette. He thought the fairy had +deserted him.</p> +<p>He threw himself on his bed. It grew dark, and he soon fell +asleep; but in the middle of the night he awoke with a start. His +chamber was full of light, and his fairy friend stood near.</p> +<p>"Shall I take back my gift?" she asked.</p> +<p>"Oh, no, no, no!" he cried. He was rested now, and he did not +feel so much discouraged.</p> +<p>"If you still wish to go on working, take this ring," said the +fairy. "My sister sends it to you. Wear it, and it will greatly +assist the charm."</p> +<p>He took the ring, and the fairy was gone. The ring was set +with a beautiful blue stone, which reflected everything bright +that came near it; and he thought he saw inside the ring the one +word-"Hope."</p> +<p>Many more years passed. The young man's mother died, and he +went far, far from home. In the strange land to which he went +people thought his pictures were wonderful; and he had become a +great and famous painter.</p> +<p>One day he went to see a large collection of pictures in a +great city. He saw many of his own pictures, and some of them had +been painted before he left his forest home. All the people and +the painters praised them; but there was one that they liked +better than the others. It was a picture of a little child, +holding in its hands several water lilies.</p> +<p>Toward evening the people departed one by one, till he was +left alone with his masterpieces. He was sitting in a chair +thinking of leaving the place, when he suddenly fell asleep. And +he dreamed that he was again standing near the little lake in his +native land, watching the rays of the setting sun as they melted +away from its surface. The beautiful lily was in his hand, and +while he looked at it the leaves became withered, and fell at his +feet. Then he felt a light touch on his hand. He looked up, and +there on the chair beside him stood the little fairy.</p> +<p>"O wonderful fairy!" he cried, "how can I thank you for your +magic gift? I can give you nothing but my thanks. But at least +tell me your name, so that I may cut it on a ring and always wear +it."</p> +<p>"My name," replied the fairy, "is Perseverance."</p> +<p><i>Jean Ingelow.</i></p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/231.gif" width="311" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> + +<p>Name the different objects you see in the picture. What did +the artist desire to tell? What is the central object? Where is +the scene of the picture placed? What time of the day and of the +year does it show?</p> +<p>Describe the boy. How old is he? What impresses you most about +him?</p> +<p>Suppose your teacher took the class to this lake for a day's +outing. Write a composition on how the day was spent.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_74_"></a> +<h1>_74_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_8">A BUILDER'S LESSON.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>Memorize:</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>"How shall I a habit break?"<br> + As you did that habit make.<br> + As you gathered, you must lose;<br> + As you yielded, now refuse.<br> + Thread by thread the strands we twist<br> + Till they bind us, neck and wrist;<br> + Thread by thread the patient hand<br> + Must untwine, ere free we stand.<br> + As we builded, stone by stone,<br> + We must toil, unhelped, alone,<br> + Till the wall is overthrown.<br> +<br> + But remember, as we try,<br> + Lighter every test goes by;<br> + Wading in, the stream grows deep<br> + Toward the center's downward sweep;<br> + Backward turn, each step ashore<br> + Shallower is than that before.<br> +<br> + Ah, the precious years we waste<br> + Leveling what we raised in haste:<br> + Doing what must be undone<br> + Ere content or love be won!<br> + First, across the gulf we cast<br> + Kite-borne threads, till lines are passed,<br> + And habit builds the bridge at last!<br> + +<p><i>John Boyle O'Reilly.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Memory Gem:</p> +<br> + +<p>Habit is a cable. Every day we weave a thread, until at last +it is so strong we cannot break it.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_75_"></a> +<h1>_75_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>in ured'</td> +<td>ru' di ments</td> +<td>nine' ti eth</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>ma tur' er</td> +<td>ac' cu ra cy</td> +<td>in ad vert' ence</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>an' ec dotes</td> +<td>e ner' vate</td> +<td>in cor' po ra ted</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>dig' ni fied</td> +<td>in junc' tion</td> +<td>pre var i ca' tion</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_8">WASHINGTON AND HIS MOTHER.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>Some of the most interesting anecdotes of the early life of +Washington were derived from his mother, a dignified matron who, +by the death of her husband, while her children were young, +became the sole conductress of their education. To the inquiry, +what course she had pursued in rearing one so truly illustrious, +she replied, "Only to require obedience, diligence, and +truth."</p> +<p>These simple rules, faithfully enforced, and incorporated with +the rudiments of character, had a powerful influence over his +future greatness.</p> +<p>He was early accustomed to accuracy in all his statements, and +to speak of his faults and omissions without prevarication or +disguise. Hence arose that noble openness of soul, and contempt +of deceit in others, which ever distinguished him. Once, by an +inadvertence of his youth, considerable loss had been incurred, +and of such a nature as to interfere with the plans of his +mother. He came to her, frankly owning his error, and she +replied, while tears of affection moistened her eyes, "I had +rather it should be so, than that my son should have been guilty +of a falsehood."</p> +<p>She was careful not to enervate him by luxury or weak +indulgence. He was inured to early rising, and never permitted to +be idle. Sometimes he engaged in labors which the children of +wealthy parents would now account severe, and thus acquired +firmness of frame and a disregard of hardship.</p> +<p>The systematic employment of time, which from childhood he had +been taught, was of great service when the weight of a nation's +concerns devolved upon him. It was then observed by those who +surrounded him, that he was never known to be in a hurry, but +found time for the transaction of the smallest affairs in the +midst of the greatest and most conflicting duties.</p> +<p>Such benefit did he derive from attention to the counsels of +his mother. His obedience to her commands, when a child, was +cheerful and strict; and as he approached to maturer years, the +expression of her slightest wish was law.</p> +<p>At length, America having secured her independence, and the +war being ended, Washington, who for eight years had not tasted +the repose of home, hastened with filial reverence to ask his +mother's blessing. The hero, "first in war, first in peace, and +first in the hearts of his countrymen," came to lay his laurels +at his mother's feet.</p> +<p>This venerable woman continued, till past her ninetieth year, +to be respected and beloved by all around. With pious grief, +Washington closed her eyes and laid her in the grave which she +had selected for herself.</p> +<p>We have now seen the man who was the leader of victorious +armies, the conqueror of a mighty kingdom, and the admiration of +the world, in the delightful attitude of an obedient and +affectionate son. She, whom he honored with such filial +reverence, said that "he had learned to command others by first +learning to obey."</p> +<p>Let those, then, who in the morning of life are ambitious of +future eminence, cultivate the virtue of filial obedience, and +remember that they cannot be either fortunate or happy while they +neglect the injunction, "My son, keep thy father's commandments, +and forsake not the law of thy mother."</p> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/239.gif" width="337" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<p><i>L.E. Fournier.</i></p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>conductress</b>, a woman who leads or directs.</p> +<p>The suffix <i>-ess</i> is used to form feminine +name-words.</p> +<p>Tell what each of the following words means:</p> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>ab' bess</td> +<td>ac' tress</td> +<td>duch' ess</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>li' on ess</td> +<td>count' ess</td> +<td>po' et ess</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>song' stress</td> +<td>au' thor ess</td> +<td>di rect' ress</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>Use the following homonyms in sentences:</p> +<br> + +<p>air, ere, e'er, heir; oar, ore, o'er; in, inn; four, fore; +vain, vein; vale, veil; core, corps; their, there; hear, here; +fair, fare; sweet, suite; strait, straight.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_76_"></a> +<h1>_76_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>na' tal</td> +<td>a main'</td> +<td>toc' sin</td> +<td>re count' ed</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_8">WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>'Tis splendid to have a record<br> + <span class="c4">So white and free from stain</span><br> + That, held to the light, it shows no blot,<br> + <span class="c4">Though tested and tried amain;</span><br> + That age to age forever<br> + <span class="c4">Repeats its story of love,</span><br> + And your birthday lives in a nation's heart,<br> + <span class="c4">All other days above.</span><br> +<br> + And this is Washington's glory,<br> + <span class="c4">A steadfast soul and true,</span><br> + Who stood for his country's honor<br> + <span class="c4">When his country's days were few.</span><br> + And now when its days are many,<br> + <span class="c4">And its flag of stars is flung</span><br> + To the breeze in radiant glory,<br> + <span class="c4">His name is on every tongue.</span><br> +<br> + Yes, it's splendid to live so bravely,<br> + <span class="c4">To be so great and strong,</span><br> + That your memory is ever a tocsin<br> + <span class="c4">To rally the foes of wrong;</span><br> + To live so proudly and purely,<br> + <span class="c4">That your people pause in their way,</span><br> + And year by year, with banner and drum,<br> + <span class="c4">Keep the thought of your natal day.</span><br> + +<p><i>Margaret E. Sangster.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>By permission of the author.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_77_"></a> +<h1>_77_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>Brit' on (un)</td> +<td>ant' lers</td> +<td>wrin' kled</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>vet' er an</td> +<td>im mor' tal</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_8">THE SWORD OF BUNKER HILL.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>He lay upon his dying bed,<br> + <span class="c4">His eye was growing dim,</span><br> + When, with a feeble voice, he called<br> + <span class="c4">His weeping son to him:</span><br> + "Weep not, my boy," the veteran said,<br> + <span class="c4">"I bow to heaven's high will;</span><br> + But quickly from yon antlers bring<br> + <span class="c4">The sword of Bunker Hill."</span><br> +<br> + The sword was brought; the soldier's eye<br> + <span class="c4">Lit with a sudden flame;</span><br> + And, as he grasped the ancient blade,<br> + <span class="c4">He murmured Warren's name;</span><br> + Then said, "My boy, I leave you gold,<br> + <span class="c4">But what is richer still,</span><br> + I leave you, mark me, mark me well,<br> + <span class="c4">The sword of Bunker Hill.</span><br> +<br> + "'Twas on that dread, immortal day,<br> + <span class="c4">I dared the Briton's band;</span><br> + A captain raised his blade on me,<br> + <span class="c4">I tore it from his hand;</span><br> + And while the glorious battle raged,<br> + <span class="c4">It lightened Freedom's will;</span><br> + For, son, the God of Freedom blessed<br> + <span class="c4">The sword of Bunker Hill.</span><br> +<br> + "Oh! keep this sword," his accents broke,-<br> + <span class="c4">A smile-and he was dead;</span><br> + But his wrinkled hand still grasped the blade,<br> + <span class="c4">Upon that dying bed.</span><br> + The son remains, the sword remains,<br> + <span class="c4">Its glory growing still,</span><br> + And twenty millions bless the sire<br> + <span class="c4">And sword of Bunker Hill.</span><br> + +<p><i>William R. Wallace.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/243.gif" width="530" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_78_"></a> +<h1>_78_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>es' say</td> +<td>buoy' ant</td> +<td>in sip' id</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>fe quent' ing</td> +<td>scowl' ing ly</td> +<td>sug ges' tion</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>in tel' li gence</td> +<td>sin' gu lar ly</td> +<td>so lic' i tude</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>com pet' i tor</td> +<td>phi los' o pher</td> +<td>ve' he ment ly</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>tre men' dous ly</td> +<td>ex pos tu la' tion</td> +<td>ig no min' i ous ly</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_8">THE MARTYR'S BOY.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>It is a youth full of grace, and sprightliness, and candor, +that comes forward with light and buoyant steps across the open +court, towards the inner hall; and we shall hardly find time to +sketch him before he reaches it. He is about fourteen years old, +but tall for that age, with elegance of form and manliness of +bearing. His bare neck and limbs are well developed by healthy +exercise; his features display an open and warm heart, while his +lofty forehead, round which his brown hair naturally curls, beams +with a bright intelligence. He wears the usual youth's garment, +the short toga, reaching below the knee, and a hollow spheroid of +gold suspended round his neck. A bundle of papers and vellum +rolls fastened together, and carried by an old servant behind +him, shows us that he is just returning home from school.</p> +<p>While we have been thus noting him, he has received his +mother's embrace, and has sat himself low by her feet. She gazes +upon him for some time in silence, as if to discover in his +countenance the cause of his unusual delay, for he is an hour +late in his return. But he meets her glance with so frank a look, +and with such a smile of innocence, that every cloud of doubt is +in a moment dispelled, and she addresses him as follows:</p> +<p>"What has detained you to-day, my dearest boy? No accident, I +trust, has happened to you on the way."</p> +<p>"Oh, none, I assure you, sweetest mother; on the contrary, all +has been so delightful that I can scarcely venture to tell +you."</p> +<p>A look of smiling, expostulation drew from the open-hearted +boy a delicious laugh, as he continued: "Well, I suppose I must. +You know I am never happy if I have failed to tell you all the +bad and the good of the day about myself. But, to-day, for the +first time, I have a doubt whether I ought to tell you all."</p> +<p>Did the mother's heart flutter more than usual, as from a +first anxiety, or was there a softer solicitude dimming her eye, +that the youth should seize her hand and put it tenderly to his +lips, while he thus replied:</p> +<p>"Fear nothing, mother most beloved, your son has done nothing +that may give you pain. Only say, do you wish to hear <i>all</i> +that has befallen me to-day, or only the cause of my late return +home?"</p> +<p>"Tell me all, dear Pancratius," she answered; "nothing that +concerns you can be indifferent to me."</p> +<div class="c2"><img src="images/246.gif" width="471" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<p>"Well, then," he began, "this last day of my frequenting +school appears to me to have been singularly blessed. First, I +was crowned as the successful competitor in a declamation, which +our good master Cassianus set us for our work during the morning +hours; and this led, as you will hear, to some singular +discoveries. The subject was, 'That the real philosopher should +be ever ready to die for the truth.' I never heard anything so +cold or insipid (I hope it is not wrong to say so) as the +compositions read by my companions. It was not their fault, poor +fellows! what truth can they possess, and what inducements can +they have to die for any of their vain opinions? But to a +Christian, what charming suggestions such a theme naturally +makes! And so I felt it. My heart glowed, and all my thoughts +seemed to burn, as I wrote my essay, full of the lessons you have +taught me, and of the domestic examples that are before me. The +son of a martyr could not feel otherwise. But when my turn came +to read my declamation, I found that my feelings had nearly +betrayed me. In the warmth of my recitation, the word 'Christian' +escaped my lips instead of 'philosopher,' and 'faith' instead of +'truth,' At the first mistake, I saw Cassianus start; at the +second, I saw a tear glisten in his eye, as bending +affectionately towards me, he said, in a whisper, 'Beware, my +child, there are sharp ears listening.'"</p> +<p>"What, then," interrupted the mother, "is Cassianus a +Christian? I chose his school because it was in the highest +repute for learning and morality; and now indeed I thank God that +I did so. But in these days of danger we are obliged to live as +strangers in our own land. Certainly, had Cassianus proclaimed +his faith, his school would soon have been deserted. But go on, +my dear boy. Were his apprehensions well grounded?"</p> +<p>"I fear so; for while the great body of my school-fellows +vehemently applauded my hearty declamation, I saw the dark eyes +of Corvinus bent scowlingly upon me, as he bit his lip in +manifest anger."</p> +<p>"And who is he, my child, that was so displeased, and +wherefore?"</p> +<p>"He is the strongest, but, unfortunately, the dullest boy in +the school. But this, you know, is not his fault. Only, I know +not why, he seems ever to have had a grudge against me, the cause +of which I cannot understand."</p> +<p>"Did he say aught to you, or do?"</p> +<p>"Yes, and was the cause of my delay. For when we went forth +from school into the field by the river, he addressed me +insultingly in the presence of our companions, and said, 'Come, +Pancratius, this, I understand, is the last time we meet +<i>here</i>; but I have a long score to demand payment of from +you. You have loved to show your superiority in school over me +and others older and better than yourself; I saw your +supercilious looks at me as you spouted your high-flown +declamation to-day; ay, and I caught expressions in it which you +may live to rue, and that very soon. Before you leave us, I must +have my revenge. If you are worthy of your name let us fairly +contend in more manly strife than that of the style and tables. +Wrestle with me, or try the cestus against me. I burn to humble +you as you deserve, before these witnesses of your insolent +triumphs.'"</p> +<p>The anxious mother bent eagerly forward as she listened, and +scarcely breathed. "And what," she exclaimed, "did you answer, my +dear son?"</p> +<p>"I told him gently that he was quite mistaken; for never had I +consciously done anything that could give pain to him or any of +my school-fellows; nor did I ever dream of claiming superiority +over them. 'And as to what you propose,' I added, 'you know, +Corvinus, that I have always refused to indulge in personal +combats, which, beginning in a cool trial of skill, end in an +angry strife, hatred, and wish for revenge. How much less could I +think of entering on them now, when you avow that you are anxious +to begin them with those evil feelings which are usually their +bad end?' Our school-mates had now formed a circle round us; and +I clearly saw that they were all against me, for they had hoped +to enjoy some of the delights of their cruel games; I therefore +cheerfully added, 'And now, my comrades, good-by, and may all +happiness attend you. I part from you, as I have lived with you, +in peace,' 'Not so,' replied Corvinus, now purple in the face +with fury; 'but-'"</p> +<p>The boy's countenance became crimsoned, his voice quivered, +his body trembled, and, half-choked, he sobbed out, "I cannot go +on; I dare not tell the rest!"</p> +<p>"I entreat you, for God's sake, and for the love you bear your +father's memory," said the mother, placing her hand upon her +son's head, "conceal nothing from me. I shall never again have +rest if you tell me not all. What further said or did +Corvinus?"</p> +<p>The boy recovered himself by a moment's pause and a silent +prayer, and then proceeded:</p> +<p>"'Not so!' exclaimed Corvinus, 'not so do you depart! You have +concealed your abode from us, but I will find you out; till then +bear this token of my determined purpose to be revenged!' So +saying, he dealt me a furious blow upon the face, which made me +reel and stagger, while a shout of savage delight broke forth +from the boys around us."</p> +<p>He burst into tears, which relieved him, and then went on:</p> +<p>"Oh, how I felt my blood boil at that moment; how my heart +seemed bursting within me; and a voice appeared to whisper in my +ear the name of 'coward!' It surely was an evil spirit. I felt +that I was strong enough-my rising anger made me so-to seize my +unjust assailant by the throat, and cast him gasping on the +ground. I heard already the shout of applause that would have +hailed my victory and turned the tables against him. It was the +hardest struggle of my life; never were flesh and blood so strong +within me. O God! may they never be again so tremendously +powerful."</p> +<p>"And what did you do, then, my darling boy?" gasped forth the +trembling matron.</p> +<p>He replied, "My good angel conquered the demon at my side. I +stretched forth my hand to Corvinus, and said, 'May God forgive +you, as I freely and fully do; and may He bless you abundantly.' +Cassianus came up at that moment, having seen all from a +distance, and the youthful crowd quickly dispersed. I entreated +him, by our common faith, now acknowledged between us, not to +pursue Corvinus for what he had done; and I obtained his promise. +And now, sweet mother," murmured the boy, in soft, gentle +accents, into his parent's bosom, "do you think I may call this a +happy day?"</p> +<p><i>"Fabiola"-Cardinal Wiseman.</i></p> +<div class="c2"><img src="images/251.gif" width="541" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p><b>spheroid</b> (sf[=e]'), a body or figure in shape like a +sphere.</p> +<p><b>vellum</b>, a fine kind of parchment, made of the skin of a +lamb, goat, sheep or young calf, for writing on.</p> +<p><b>theme</b>, a subject or topic on which a person writes or +speaks.</p> +<p><b>score</b>, bill, account, reckoning.</p> +<p><b>supercil'ious</b>, proud, haughty.</p> +<p><b>styles and tables</b>, writing implements for schools. The +tables or tablets were covered with wax, on which the letters +were traced by the sharp point of the style, and erased by its +flat top.</p> +<p><b>cestus</b>, a covering for the hands of boxers, made of +leather bands, and often loaded with lead or iron.</p> +<p><b>"If you are worthy of your name."</b> Reference is here +made by Corvinus to the <i>pancratium</i>, an athletic exercise +among the Romans, which combined all personal contests, such as +boxing, wrestling, etc.</p> +<p><b>Cassianus</b>, St. Cassian, who, though a Bishop, opened a +school for Roman youths. Having confessed Christ, and refusing to +offer sacrifice to the gods, the pagan judge commanded that his +own pupils should stab him to death with their iron writing +pencils, called styles.</p> +<p><b>ay</b> or <b>aye</b>, meaning <i>yes</i>, is pronounced +<i>[=i]</i> or <i>[:a][)i]</i>; meaning <i>ever</i>, and used +only in poetry, it is pronounced <i>[=a]</i>.</p> +<p>Read carefully two or three times the opening paragraph of the +selection, so that the picture conveyed by the words may be +clearly impressed on the mind. Then with book closed write out in +your own words a description of "The Martyr's Boy."</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_79_"></a> +<h1>_79_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_8">THE ANGEL'S STORY.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>Through the blue and frosty heavens<br> + <span class="c4">Christmas stars were shining bright;</span><br> + Glistening lamps throughout the City<br> + <span class="c4">Almost matched their gleaming light;</span><br> + While the winter snow was lying,<br> + And the winter winds were sighing,<br> + <span class="c4">Long ago, one Christmas night.</span><br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + Rich and poor felt love and blessing<br> + <span class="c4">From the gracious season fall;</span><br> + Joy and plenty in the cottage,<br> + <span class="c4">Peace and feasting in the hall;</span><br> + And the voices of the children<br> + <span class="c4">Ringing clear above it all.</span><br> +<br> + Yet one house was dim and darkened;<br> + <span class="c4">Gloom, and sickness, and despair,</span><br> + Dwelling in the gilded chambers,<br> + <span class="c4">Creeping up the marble stair,</span><br> + Even stilled the voice of mourning,-<br> + <span class="c4">For a child lay dying there.</span><br> +<br> + Silken curtains fell around him,<br> + <span class="c4">Velvet carpets hushed the tread,</span><br> + Many costly toys were lying<br> + <span class="c4">All unheeded by his bed;</span><br> + And his tangled golden ringlets<br> + <span class="c4">Were on downy pillows spread.</span><br> +<br> + The skill of all that mighty City<br> + <span class="c4">To save one little life was vain,-</span><br> + One little thread from being broken,<br> + One fatal word from being spoken;<br> + <span class="c4">Nay, his very mother's pain</span><br> + And the mighty love within her<br> + <span class="c4">Could not give him health again.</span><br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + Suddenly an unseen Presence<br> + <span class="c4">Checked those constant moaning +cries,</span><br> + Stilled the little heart's quick fluttering,<br> + <span class="c4">Raised those blue and wondering +eyes,</span><br> + Fixed on some mysterious vision<br> + <span class="c4">With a startled, sweet surprise.</span><br> +<br> + For a radiant angel hovered,<br> + <span class="c4">Smiling, o'er the little bed;</span><br> + White his raiment; from his shoulders<br> + <span class="c4">Snowy dove-like pinions spread,</span><br> + And a starlike light was shining<br> + <span class="c4">In a glory round his head.</span><br> +<br> + While, with tender love, the angel,<br> + <span class="c4">Leaning o'er the little nest,</span><br> + In his arms the sick child folding,<br> + <span class="c4">Laid him gently on his breast,</span><br> + Sobs and wailings told the mother<br> + <span class="c4">That her darling was at rest.</span><br> +<br> + So the angel, slowly rising,<br> + <span class="c4">Spread his wings, and through the +air</span><br> + Bore the child; and, while he held him<br> + <span class="c4">To his heart with loving care,</span><br> + Placed a branch of crimson roses<br> + <span class="c4">Tenderly beside him there.</span><br> +<br> + While the child, thus clinging, floated<br> + <span class="c4">Towards the mansions of the Blest,</span><br> + Gazing from his shining guardian<br> + <span class="c4">To the flowers upon his breast,</span><br> + Thus the angel spake, still smiling<br> + <span class="c4">On the little heavenly guest:</span><br> +<br> + "Know, dear little one, that Heaven<br> + <span class="c4">Does no earthly thing disdain;</span><br> + Man's poor joys find there an echo<br> + <span class="c4">Just as surely as his pain;</span><br> + Love, on earth so feebly striving,<br> + <span class="c4">Lives divine in Heaven again.</span><br> +<br> + "Once, in that great town below us,<br> + <span class="c4">In a poor and narrow street,</span><br> + Dwelt a little sickly orphan;<br> + <span class="c4">Gentle aid, or pity sweet,</span><br> + Never in life's rugged pathway<br> + <span class="c4">Guided his poor tottering feet.</span><br> +<br> + "All the striving, anxious fore-thought<br> + <span class="c4">That should only come with age</span><br> + Weighed upon his baby spirit,<br> + <span class="c4">Showed him soon life's sternest +page;</span><br> + Grim Want was his nurse, and Sorrow<br> + <span class="c4">Was his only heritage."</span><br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + "One bright day, with feeble footsteps<br> + <span class="c4">Slowly forth he tried to crawl</span><br> + Through the crowded city's pathways,<br> + <span class="c4">Till he reached a garden-wall,</span><br> + Where 'mid princely halls and mansions<br> + <span class="c4">Stood the lordliest of all.</span><br> +<br> + "There were trees with giant branches,<br> + Velvet glades where shadows hide;<br> + There were sparkling fountains glancing,<br> + <span class="c4">Flowers, which in luxuriant pride</span><br> + Even wafted breaths of perfume<br> + <span class="c4">To the child who stood outside.</span><br> +<br> + "He against the gate of iron<br> + <span class="c4">Pressed his wan and wistful face,</span><br> + Gazing with an awe-struck pleasure<br> + <span class="c4">At the glories of the place;</span><br> + Never had his brightest day-dream<br> + <span class="c4">Shone with half such wondrous grace.</span><br> +<br> + "You were playing in that garden,<br> + <span class="c4">Throwing blossoms in the air,</span><br> + Laughing when the petals floated<br> + <span class="c4">Downwards on your golden hair;</span><br> + And the fond eyes watching o'er you,<br> + And the splendor spread before you,<br> + <span class="c4">Told a House's Hope was there.</span><br> +<br> + "When your servants, tired of seeing<br> + <span class="c4">Such a face of want and woe,</span><br> + Turning to the ragged orphan,<br> + <span class="c4">Gave him coin, and bade him go,</span><br> + Down his cheeks so thin and wasted<br> + <span class="c4">Bitter tears began to flow.</span><br> +<br> + "But that look of childish sorrow<br> + <span class="c4">On your tender child-heart fell,</span><br> + And you plucked the reddest roses<br> + <span class="c4">From the tree you loved so well,</span><br> + Passed them through the stern cold grating,<br> + <span class="c4">Gently bidding him 'Farewell!'</span><br> +<br> + "Dazzled by the fragrant treasure<br> + <span class="c4">And the gentle voice he heard,</span><br> + In the poor forlorn boy's spirit,<br> + <span class="c4">Joy, the sleeping Seraph, stirred;</span><br> + In his hand he took the flowers,<br> + <span class="c4">In his heart the loving word.</span><br> +<br> + "So he crept to his poor garret;<br> + <span class="c4">Poor no more, but rich and bright;</span><br> + For the holy dreams of childhood-<br> + <span class="c4">Love, and Rest, and Hope, and Light-</span><br> + Floated round the orphan's pillow<br> + <span class="c4">Through the starry summer night.</span><br> +<br> + "Day dawned, yet the visions lasted;<br> + <span class="c4">All too weak to rise he lay;</span><br> + Did he dream that none spake harshly,-<br> + <span class="c4">All were strangely kind that day?</span><br> + Surely then his treasured roses<br> + <span class="c4">Must have charmed all ills away.</span><br> +<br> + "And he smiled, though they were fading;<br> + <span class="c4">One by one their leaves were shed;</span><br> + 'Such bright things could never perish,<br> + <span class="c4">They would bloom again,' he said.</span><br> + When the next day's sun had risen<br> + <span class="c4">Child and flowers both were dead.</span><br> +<br> + "Know, dear little one, our Father<br> + <span class="c4">Will no gentle deed disdain;</span><br> + Love on the cold earth beginning<br> + <span class="c4">Lives divine in Heaven again;</span><br> + While the angel hearts that beat there<br> + <span class="c4">Still all tender thoughts retain."</span><br> +<br> + So the angel ceased, and gently<br> + <span class="c4">O'er his little burden leant;</span><br> + While the child gazed from the shining,<br> + <span class="c4">Loving eyes that o'er him bent,</span><br> + To the blooming roses by him.<br> + <span class="c4">Wondering what that mystery meant.</span><br> +<br> + Thus the radiant angel answered,<br> + <span class="c4">And with tender meaning smiled:</span><br> + "Ere your childlike, loving spirit,<br> + <span class="c4">Sin and the hard world defiled,</span><br> + God has given me leave to seek you,-<br> + <span class="c4">I was once that little child!"</span><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + In the churchyard of that city<br> + <span class="c4">Rose a tomb of marble rare,</span><br> + Decked, as soon as Spring awakened,<br> + <span class="c4">With her buds and blossoms fair,-</span><br> + And a humble grave beside it,-<br> + <span class="c4">No one knew who rested there.</span><br> + +<p><i>Adelaide A. Procter</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/257.gif" width="277" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<p><i>Kaulbach</i>.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>Enlarge the following brief summary of the Angel's Story into +a composition the length of which to be determined by your +teacher. Use many of the words and forms of expression you find +in the poem.</p> +<br> + +<p>THE ANGEL'S STORY</p> +<p>A poor little boy, to whom a child of wealth had in pity given +a bunch of "reddest roses," died with the fading flowers. +Afterwards he came as a "radiant angel" to visit his dying +friend, and in a spirit of gratitude bore him to heaven.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_80_"></a> +<h1>_80_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>al' ti tude</td> +<td>as tound' ing</td> +<td>ve loc' i ty</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>vag' a bond</td> +<td>mus tach' es</td> +<td>hes i ta' ting ly</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>par' a lyzed</td> +<td>tre men' dous</td> +<td>ex tra or' di na ry</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_8">GLUCK'S VISITOR.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>It was drawing toward winter, and very cold weather, when one +day Gluck's two older brothers had gone out, with their usual +warning to little Gluck, who was left to mind the roast, that he +was to let nobody in and give nothing out. Gluck sat down quite +close to the fire, for it was raining very hard. He turned and +turned, and the roast got nice and brown.</p> +<p>"What a pity," thought Gluck, "that my brothers never ask +anybody to dinner. I'm sure, when they have such a nice piece of +mutton as this, it would do their hearts good to have somebody to +eat it with them." Just as he spoke there came a double knock at +the house door, yet heavy and dull, as though the knocker had +been tied up. "It must be the wind," said Gluck; "nobody else +would venture to knock double knocks at our door."</p> +<p>No; it wasn't the wind. There it came again very hard, and +what was particularly astounding the knocker seemed to be in a +hurry, and not to be in the least afraid of the consequences. +Gluck put his head out the window to see who it was.</p> +<p>It was the most extraordinary looking little gentleman he had +ever seen in his life. He had a very large nose, slightly +brass-colored; his cheeks were very round and very red; his eyes +twinkled merrily through long, silky eyelashes; his mustaches +curled twice round like a corkscrew on each side of his mouth, +and his hair, of a curious mixed pepper-and-salt color, descended +far over his shoulders. He was about four feet six in height, and +wore a conical pointed cap of nearly the same altitude, decorated +with a black feather some three feet long. He wore an enormous +black, glossy-looking cloak, which must have been very much too +long in calm weather, as the wind carried it clear out from the +wearer's shoulders to about four times his own length.</p> +<p>Gluck was so perfectly paralyzed by the appearance of his +visitor that he remained fixed, without uttering a word, until +the old gentleman turned round to look after his fly-away cloak. +In so doing he caught sight of Gluck's little yellow head jammed +in the window, with its mouth and eyes very wide open indeed.</p> +<div class="c2"><img src="images/264.gif" width="397" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<p>"Hello!" said the little gentleman, "that's not the way to +answer the door. I'm wet; let me in." To do the little gentleman +justice, he <i>was</i> wet. His feather hung down between his +legs like a beaten puppy's tail, dripping like an umbrella; and +from the end of his mustaches the water was running into his +waistcoat pockets, and out again like a mill stream.</p> +<p>"I'm very sorry" said Gluck, "but I really can't."</p> +<p>"Can't what?" said the old gentleman.</p> +<p>"I can't let you in, sir. My brothers would beat me to death, +sir, if I thought of such a thing. What do you want, sir?"</p> +<p>"Want?" said the old gentleman. "I want fire and shelter; and +there's your great fire there blazing, crackling, and dancing on +the walls, with nobody to feel it. Let me in, I say."</p> +<p>Gluck had had his head, by this time, so long out of the +window that he began to feel it was really unpleasantly cold. +When he turned and saw the beautiful fire rustling and roaring, +and throwing long, bright tongues up the chimney, as if it were +licking its chops at the savory smell of the leg of mutton, his +heart melted within him that it should be burning away for +nothing.</p> +<p>"He does look <i>very</i> wet," said little Gluck; "I'll just +let him in for a quarter of an hour."</p> +<p>As the little gentleman walked in, there came a gust of wind +through the house that made the old chimney totter.</p> +<p>"That's a good boy. Never mind your brothers. I'll talk to +them."</p> +<p>"Pray, sir, don't do any such thing," said Gluck. "I can't let +you stay till they come; they'd be the death of me."</p> +<p>"Dear me," said the old gentleman, "I'm sorry to hear that. +How long may I stay?"</p> +<p>"Only till the mutton is done, sir," replied Gluck, "and it's +very brown." Then the old gentleman walked into the kitchen and +sat himself down on the hob, with the top of his cap up the +chimney, for it was much too high for the roof.</p> +<p>"You'll soon dry there; sir," said Gluck, and sat down again +to turn the mutton. But the old gentleman did <i>not</i> dry +there, but went on drip, drip, dripping among the cinders, so +that the fire fizzed and sputtered and began to look very black +and uncomfortable. Never was such a cloak; every fold in it ran +like a gutter.</p> +<p>"I beg pardon, sir," said Gluck, at length, after watching the +water spreading in long, quicksilver-like streams over the floor; +"mayn't I take your cloak?"</p> +<p>"No, thank you," said the old gentleman.</p> +<p>"Your cap, sir?"</p> +<p>"I am all right, thank you," said the old gentleman, rather +gruffly.</p> +<p>"But-sir-I'm very sorry," said Gluck, hesitatingly, +"but-really-sir-you're putting the fire out."</p> +<p>"It'll take longer to do the mutton, then."</p> +<p>Gluck was very much puzzled by the behavior of his guest; it +was such a strange mixture of coolness and humility.</p> +<p>"That mutton looks very nice," said the old gentleman. "Can't +you give me a little bit?"</p> +<p>"Impossible, sir," said Gluck.</p> +<p>"I'm very hungry," continued the old gentleman; "I've had +nothing to eat yesterday nor to-day. They surely couldn't miss a +bit from the knuckle!"</p> +<p>He spoke in so very melancholy a tone that it quite melted +Gluck's heart.</p> +<p>"They promised me one slice to-day, sir," said he; "I can give +you that, but no more."</p> +<p>"That's a good boy," said the old gentleman again.</p> +<p>"I don't care if I do get beaten for it," thought Gluck.</p> +<p>Just as he had cut a large slice out of the mutton, there came +a tremendous rap at the door. The old gentleman jumped; Gluck +fitted the slice into the mutton again, and ran to open the +door.</p> +<p>"What did you keep us waiting in the rain for?" said Schwartz, +as he walked in, throwing his umbrella in Gluck's face.</p> +<p>"Aye; what for, indeed, you little vagabond?" said Hans, +administering an educational box on the ear, as he followed his +brother.</p> +<p>"Bless my soul!" said Schwartz, when he opened the door.</p> +<p>"Amen," said the little gentleman, who had taken his cap off, +and was standing in the middle of the kitchen, bowing with the +utmost velocity.</p> +<p>"Who's that?" said Schwartz, catching up a rolling-pin, and +turning fiercely to Gluck.</p> +<p>"I don't know, indeed, brother," said Gluck, in great +terror.</p> +<p>"How did he get in?" roared Schwartz.</p> +<p>"My dear brother, he was so <i>very</i> wet!"</p> +<p>The rolling-pin was descending on Gluck's head; but, at that +instant, the old gentleman interposed his conical cap, on which +it crashed with a shock that shook the water out of it all over +the room. What was very odd, the rolling-pin no sooner touched +the cap, than it flew out of Schwartz's hand, spinning like a +straw in a high wind, and fell into the corner at the farther end +of the room.</p> +<p>"Who are you sir?" demanded Schwartz.</p> +<p>"What's your business?" snarled Hans.</p> +<p>"I'm a poor old man, sir," the little gentleman began, very +modestly, "and I saw your fire through the window, and begged +shelter for a quarter of an hour."</p> +<p>"Have the goodness to walk out again, then," said Schwartz. +"We've quite enough water in our kitchen, without making it a +drying house."</p> +<p>"It's a very cold day, sir, to turn an old man out in, sir; +look at my gray hairs."</p> +<p>"Aye!" said Hans, "there are enough of them to keep you warm. +Walk!"</p> +<p>"I'm very, very hungry, sir; couldn't you spare me a bit of +bread before I go?"</p> +<p>"Bread, indeed!" said Schwartz; "do you suppose we've nothing +to do with our bread but to give it to such fellows as you?"</p> +<p>"Why don't you sell your feather?" said Hans, sneeringly. "Out +with you."</p> +<p>"A little bit," said the old gentleman.</p> +<p>"Be off!" said Schwartz.</p> +<p>"Pray, gentlemen."</p> +<p>"Off!" cried Hans, seizing him by the collar. But he had no +sooner touched the old gentleman's collar than away he went after +the rolling-pin, spinning round and round, till he fell into the +corner on the top of it.</p> +<p>Then Schwartz was very angry, and ran at the old gentleman to +turn him out. But he also had hardly touched him, when away he +went after Hans and the rolling-pin, and hit his head against the +wall as he tumbled into the corner. And so there they lay, all +three.</p> +<p>Then the old gentleman spun himself round until his long cloak +was all wound neatly about him, clapped his cap on his head, very +much on one side, gave a twist to his corkscrew mustaches, and +replied, with perfect coolness: "Gentlemen, I wish you a very +good morning. At twelve o'clock to-night, I'll call again."</p> +<p><i>John Ruskin.</i></p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> + +<p>NOTE.-"The King of the Golden River," from which the selection +is taken, is a charming story for children. It was written in +1841, for the amusement of a sick child. It is said to be the +finest story of its kind in the language.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_81_"></a> +<h1>_81_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>elf</td> +<td>en cir' cled</td> +<td>jerk</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>hur' ri cane</td> +<td>rein'deer</td> +<td>min' i a ture</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>tar' nished</td> +<td></td> +<td></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_9">A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the +house<br> + Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse:<br> + The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,<br> + In the hope that St. Nicholas soon would be there.<br> + The children were nestled all snug in their beds,<br> + While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;<br> + And Mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap,<br> + Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,<br> + When out on the lawn there rose such a clatter,<br> + I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.<br> + Away to the window I flew like a flash,<br> + Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.<br> + The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow<br> + Gave the luster of midday to objects below;<br> + When, what to my wondering eyes should appear<br> + But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,<br> + With a little old driver, so lively and quick,<br> + I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick!<br> + More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,<br> + And he whistled, and shouted and called them by name:<br> + "Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer! now, Vixen!<br> + On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!<br> + To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall,<br> + Now, dash away! dash away! dash away, all!"<br> + As dry leaves, that before the wild hurricane fly<br> + When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,<br> + So, up to the house-top the coursers they flew,<br> + With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas, too;<br> + And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof<br> + The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.<br> + As I drew in my head, and was turning around,<br> + Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.<br> + He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot,<br> + And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;<br> + A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,<br> + And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack;<br> + His eyes, how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!<br> + His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry;<br> + His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,<br> + And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;<br> + The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,<br> + And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;<br> + He had a broad face, and a little round belly,<br> + That shook, when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.<br> + He was chubby and plump,-a right jolly old elf-<br> + And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.<br> + A wink of his eye and a twist of his head<br> + Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.<br> + He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,<br> + And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,<br> + And, laying his finger aside of his nose,<br> + And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.<br> + He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,<br> + And away they all flew like the down of a thistle;<br> + But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,<br> + "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"<br> + +<p><i>Clement C. Moore.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_82_"></a> +<h1>_82_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>a chieved'</td> +<td>es poused'</td> +<td>thral' dom</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>al li' ance</td> +<td>ter rif' ic</td> +<td>Del' a ware</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Com' mo dore</td> +<td>re cip' i ents</td> +<td>New' found land</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>can non ad' ing</td> +<td>par tic' i pa ted</td> +<td>char ac ter is' tic</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_9">COMMODORE JOHN BARRY.</a></h3> +<br> + +<p>The story of the American Navy is a story of glorious deeds. +From the early days of Barry and Jones, when it swept the decks +of King George's proud ships with merciless fire, down to the +glories achieved by Admirals Dewey and Schley in our war with +Spain, the story of our Navy is the pride and glory of our +Republic. The glowing track of its victories extends around the +world.</p> +<p>Of the many distinguished men whose names and whose deeds +adorn the pages of our country's history, there is none more +deserving of our gratitude and admiration than Commodore John +Barry. His name and fame will live in the naval annals of our +country as long as the history of America lasts.</p> +<p>Commodore Barry, the founder of the American Navy, was born in +County Wexford, Ireland, in the year 1745. At the age of fourteen +he left home for a life on</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>"The sea, the sea, the open sea,<br> + The blue, the fresh, the ever free."<br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>On board trading vessels he made several voyages to America. +He spent his leisure hours in reading and study, and in this way +soon acquired a general and practical education. By fidelity to +duty, he advanced so rapidly in his profession that at the age of +twenty-five we find him in command of the <i>Black Prince,</i> +one of the finest merchant vessels then running between +Philadelphia and London.</p> +<p>When the Revolution broke out between the Colonies and +England, our gallant Commodore gave up the command of his ship, +and without delay or hesitation espoused the cause of his adopted +country. Congress purchased a few vessels, had them fitted out +for war, and placed the little fleet under the command of Captain +Barry. His flagship was the <i>Lexington</i>, named after the +first battle of the Revolution; and Congress having at this time +adopted a national flag, the Star-spangled Banner, the +<i>Lexington</i> was the first to hoist this ensign of +freedom.</p> +<p>From the time of the fitting out of the <i>Lexington</i> down +to the time of the declaration of peace, which assured the +liberation of the Colonies from the thraldom of Great Britain, +Commodore Barry was constantly engaged on shore and afloat. +Though he actually participated in upwards of twenty sea fights, +always against a force superior to his own, he never once struck +his flag to the enemy. The field of his operations ranged all the +way from the capes of the Delaware to the West Indies, and as far +east as the coast of Maine and Newfoundland. His victories were +hailed with joy throughout the country, and Barry and his men +were publicly thanked by General Washington.</p> +<p>During the darkest days of the War, while Washington was +spending the winter of 1777 in camp at Valley Forge, with our +brave soldiers perishing for want of provisions, blankets, +clothing and tents, an incident occurred which shows how +supremely loyal and devoted Commodore Barry was to the American +cause. The British troops were occupying Philadelphia. Lord Howe, +their commander, offered our great sea fighter a bribe of fifty +thousand guineas and the command of a ship of war, if he would +abandon the American cause and enter the service of England. +Barry's indignant reply should be written in letters of gold: "I +have engaged in the service of my adopted country, and neither +the value nor the command of the whole British fleet can seduce +me from it."</p> +<p>General Washington had the utmost confidence in the pluck and +daring and loyalty of Barry. He selected him as the best and +safest man to be trusted with the important mission of carrying +our commissioners to France to secure that alliance and +assistance which we then so sorely needed.</p> +<p>On his homeward trip, it is related that being hailed by a +British man-of-war with the usual questions as to the name of his +ship, captain, and destination, he gave the following bold and +characteristic reply: "This is the United States ship +<i>Alliance</i>: Jack Barry, half Irishman and half Yankee, +commander: who are you?" In the engagement that followed, Barry +and his band of heroes performed such deeds of valor that after a +few hours of terrific cannonading, the English ship was forced to +strike its colors and surrender to the "half Irishman and half +Yankee."</p> +<p>This illustrious man, who was the first that bore the title of +Commodore in the service of our Republic, continued at the head +of our infant Navy till his death, which took place in +Philadelphia, on the 13th of September, 1803. During life he was +generous and charitable, and at his death made the children of +the Catholic Orphan Asylum of Philadelphia the chief recipients +of his wealth. His remains repose in the little graveyard +attached to St. Mary's Catholic church.</p> +<p>Through the generous patriotism of the "Friendly Sons of St. +Patrick," a society of which General Washington himself was a +member, a magnificent monument was erected to the memory of +Commodore Barry, in Independence Square, Philadelphia, under the +shadow of Independence Hall, the cradle of American liberty. Miss +Elise Hazel Hepburn, a great-great-grandniece of the Commodore, +had a prominent part at the ceremonies of the unveiling, which +took place on Saint Patrick's Day, 1907.</p> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> + +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>There are gallant hearts whose glory<br> + <span class="c4">Columbia loves to name,</span><br> + Whose deeds shall live in story<br> + <span class="c4">And everlasting fame.</span><br> + But never yet one braver<br> + <span class="c4">Our starry banner bore</span><br> + Than saucy old Jack Barry,<br> + <span class="c4">The Irish Commodore.</span><br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>What is meant by the Congress of the U.S.? What two bodies +compose it? What is the number of senators, and how are they +chosen?</p> +<p>Which was the most notable sea fight of Commodore John Paul +Jones?</p> +<p>Where did Admiral Dewey specially distinguish himself? And +Admiral Schley?</p> +<p>What countries does the island of Great Britain comprise?</p> +<p>What does "never struck his flag" mean?</p> +<p>Name the capes of the Delaware. Locate Newfoundland.</p> +<p>Recite the two famous replies of Commodore Barry given in the +selection.</p> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/274.gif" width="273" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<p>COMMODORE JOHN BARRY</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_83_"></a> +<h1>_83_</h1> +<table width="65%" summary="Vocab_Layout" align="center"> +<tr> +<td>sau' cy</td> +<td>ig nored'</td> +<td>rev' eled</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>plain' tive</td> +<td>dis traught'</td> +<td>wea' ri some</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>rol' lick ing</td> +<td>mis' chie vous</td> +<td>frec'kle-faced</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_9">THE BOY OF THE HOUSE.</a></h3> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>He was the boy of the house, you know,<br> + <span class="c4">A jolly and rollicking lad;</span><br> + He was never tired, and never sick,<br> + <span class="c4">And nothing could make him sad.</span><br> +<br> + Did some one urge that he make less noise,<br> + <span class="c4">He would say, with a saucy grin,</span><br> + "Why, one boy alone doesn't make much stir-<br> + <span class="c4">I'm sorry I am not a twin!"</span><br> +<br> + "There are two of twins-oh, it must be fun<br> + <span class="c4">To go double at everything:</span><br> + To hollo by twos, and to run by twos,<br> + <span class="c4">To whistle by twos, and to sing!"</span><br> +<br> + His laugh was something to make you glad,<br> + <span class="c4">So brimful was it of joy;</span><br> + A conscience he had, perhaps, in his breast,<br> + <span class="c4">But it never troubled the boy.</span><br> +<br> + You met him out in the garden path,<br> + <span class="c4">With the terrier at his heels;</span><br> + You knew by the shout he hailed you with<br> + <span class="c4">How happy a youngster feels.</span><br> +<br> + The maiden auntie was half distraught<br> + <span class="c4">At his tricks as the days went by;</span><br> + "The most mischievous child in the world!"<br> + <span class="c4">She said, with a shrug and a sigh.</span><br> +<br> + His father owned that her words were true,<br> + <span class="c4">And his mother declared each day</span><br> + Was putting wrinkles into her face,<br> + <span class="c4">And was turning her brown hair gray.</span><br> +<br> + But it never troubled the boy of the house;<br> + <span class="c4">He reveled in clatter and din,</span><br> + And had only one regret in the world-<br> + <span class="c4">That he hadn't been born a twin.</span><br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c3"> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + There's nobody making a noise to-day,<br> + <span class="c4">There's nobody stamping the floor,</span><br> + There's an awful silence, upstairs and down,<br> + <span class="c4">There's crape on the wide hall door.</span><br> +<br> + The terrier's whining out in the sun-<br> + <span class="c4">"Where's my comrade?" he seems to +say;</span><br> + Turn your plaintive eyes away, little dog.<br> + <span class="c4">There's no frolic for you to-day.</span><br> +<br> + The freckle-faced girl from the house next door<br> + <span class="c4">Is sobbing her young heart out;</span><br> + Don't cry, little girl, you'll soon forget<br> + <span class="c4">To miss the laugh and the shout.</span><br> +<br> + How strangely quiet the little form,<br> + <span class="c4">With the hands on the bosom crossed!</span><br> + Not a fold, not a flower, out of place,<br> + <span class="c4">Not a short curl rumpled and tossed!</span><br> +<br> + So solemn and still the big house seems-<br> + <span class="c4">No laughter, no racket, no din,</span><br> + No starting shriek, no voice piping out,<br> + <span class="c4">"I'm sorry I am not a twin!"</span><br> +<br> + There a man and a woman, pale with grief,<br> + <span class="c4">As the wearisome moments creep;</span><br> + Oh! the loneliness touches everything-<br> + <span class="c4">The boy of the house is asleep.</span><br> + +<p><i>Jean Blewett.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>From the Toronto <i>Globe</i>.</p> +<br> + +<div class="c2"><img src="images/279.gif" width="387" height= +"430" alt="" border="0"></div> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + <a name="_84_"></a> +<h1>_84_</h1> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> + +<h3><a href="#CONTENTS_9"><b>BIOGRAPHIES</b></a></h3> +<br> + +<p><b>Cook, Eliza</b>, was born in London, England, in the year +1817, and was the most popular poetess of her day. When a young +girl, she gave herself so completely up to reading that her +father threatened to burn her books. She began to write at an +early age, and contributed poems and essays to various +periodicals. She is the author of many poems that will live. She +died in 1889.</p> +<p><b>Cowper, William</b>, is one of the most eminent and popular +of all English poets. He was born in the year 1731. His mother +dying when he was only six years old, the child was sent away +from home to boarding school, where he suffered so much from the +cruelty of a bigger boy that he was obliged to leave that school +for another. At the completion of his college course he expressed +regrets that his education was not received in a school where he +could be taught his duty to God. "I have been graduated," he +writes, "but I understand neither the law nor the gospel." His +longest poem is "The Task," upon which his reputation as a poet +chiefly depends. He died in the year 1800.</p> +<p><b>Dickens, Charles</b>, one of the greatest and most popular +of the novelists of England, was born in 1812. By hard, +persistent work he raised himself from obscurity and poverty to +fame and fortune. After only two years of schooling he was +obliged to go to work. His first job was pasting labels on +blacking-pots, for which he received twenty-five cents a day! He +next became office boy in a lawyer's office, and then reporter +for a London daily paper. He learned shorthand by himself from a +book he found in a public reading-room. In 1841, and again in +1867, he lectured in America. He died suddenly in 1870, and is +buried in Westminster Abbey.</p> +<p><b>Donnelly, Eleanor Cecilia</b>, began to write verses when +she was but eight years old. Her early education was directed by +her mother, a gifted and accomplished lady. Her pen has ever been +devoted to the cause of Catholic truth and the elevation of +Catholic literature. Besides hundreds of charming stories and +essays, she has published several volumes of poems. Her writings +on sacred subjects display a strong, intelligent faith, and a +tender piety. She is a writer whose pathos, originality, grace of +diction, sweetness of rhythm, purity of sentiment, and sublimity +of thought entitle her to rank among the first of our American +poets. Miss Donnelly has lived all her life in her native city of +Philadelphia, where she is the center of a cultured circle of +admiring friends, and where she edifies all by the practice of +every Christian virtue and by a life of devotedness to the honor +and glory of Almighty God.</p> +<p><b>Gould, Hannah F.,</b> an American poetess, has written many +pleasant poems for children. "Jack Frost" and "The Winter King" +have long been favorites. She was born in Vermont in the year +1789, and died in 1865.</p> +<p><b>Hawthorne, Nathaniel,</b> was born in Salem, Mass., on July +4, 1804. When still quite young he showed a great fondness for +reading. At the early age of six his favorite book was Bunyan's +"Pilgrim's Progress." At college he was a classmate of +Longfellow. Among his writings are a number of stories for +children: "The Tanglewood Tales," "The Snow-Image," "The Wonder +Books," and some stories of American history. His volumes of +short stories charm old and young alike. His Book, "The Scarlet +Letter," has made him famous. It was while he lived at Lenox, +Mass., among the Berkshire Hills, that he published "The House of +the Seven Gables." He visited Italy in 1857, where he began "The +Marble Faun," which is considered his greatest novel. He died in +1864, and is buried in Concord, Mass. Hawthorne possessed a +delicate and exquisite humor, and a marvelous felicity in the use +of language. His style may be said to combine almost every +excellence-elegance, simplicity, grace, clearness and force.</p> +<p><b>Hayne, Paul Hamilton,</b> an American poet, was born in +South Carolina in the year 1831. In 1854 he published a volume of +poems. His death occurred in 1886. He was a descendant of the +American patriot, Isaac Hayne, who, at the siege of Charleston in +1780, fell into the hands of the British, and was hanged by them +because he refused to join their ranks and fight against his +country.</p> +<p><b>Holland, Josiah Gilbert,</b> a popular American author who +wrote under the assumed name of <i>Timothy Titcomb,</i> was born +in Massachusetts in the year 1819. He began life as a physician, +but after a few years of practice gave up his profession and went +to Vicksburg, Miss., as Superintendent of Schools. He wrote a +number of novels and several volumes of essays. In 1870 he became +editor of <i>Scribner's Magazine.</i> He died in 1881.</p> +<p><b>Hunt, Leigh</b>, editor, essayist, critic, and poet, and an +intimate friend of Byron, Moore, Keats, and Shelley, was born +near London, England, in 1784, and died in 1859.</p> +<p><b>Jackson, Helen Hunt</b>, a noted American writer of prose +and poetry, and known for years by her pen name of "H.H." (the +initials of her name), was born in Massachusetts in the year +1831. She is the author of many charming poems, short stories, +and novels. Read her "Bits of Talk" and "Bits of Travel." She +lived some years in Colorado, where her life brought to her +notice the wrongs done the Indians. In their defense she wrote "A +Century of Dishonor," The last book she wrote is "Ramona," an +Indian romance, which she hoped would do for the Indian what +"Uncle Tom's Cabin" had done for the slave. Mrs. Jackson died in +California in 1885.</p> +<p><b>"Mercedes"</b> is the pen name of an able, zealous, and +devoted Sister of one of our great Teaching Communities. She has +written several excellent "Plays" for use in Convent Schools +which have met the test of successful production. Her "Wild +Flowers from the Mountain-side" is a volume of Poems and Dramas +that exhibit "the heart and soul and faith of true poetry." A +competent critic calls these "Wild Flowers sweet, their hues most +delicate, their fragrance most agreeable." Mercedes has also +enriched the columns of <i>The Missionary</i> and other +publications with several true stories, in attractive prose, of +edifying conversions resulting from the missionary zeal of priest +and teacher. Her graceful pen is ever at the service of every +cause tending to the glory of God and the good of souls.</p> +<p><b>Moore, Thomas</b>, was born in the city of Dublin, Ireland, +in the year 1779, and was educated at Trinity College. His +matchless "Melodies" are the delight of all lovers of music, and +are sung all over the world. Archbishop McHale of Tuam translated +them into the grand old Celtic tongue. Moore is the greatest of +Ireland's song-writers, and one of the world's greatest. As a +poet few have equaled him in the power to write poetry which +charms the ear by its delightful cadence. His lines display an +exquisite harmony, and are perfectly adapted to the thoughts +which they express and inspire. His grave is in England, where he +spent the later years of his life, and where he died in 1852. In +1896, the Moore Memorial Committee of Dublin erected over his +grave a monument consisting of a magnificent and beautiful Celtic +cross.</p> +<p><b>Moore, Clement C.,</b> poet and teacher, was born in New +York in 1779. In 1821 he was appointed professor in a Seminary +founded by his father, who was Bishop Benjamin Moore of the +Protestant Episcopal diocese of New York. He died in 1863.</p> +<p><b>Morris, George P.,</b> poet and journalist, wrote several +popular poems, but is remembered chiefly for his songs and +ballads. He was born in Philadelphia in the year 1802, and died +in New York in 1864.</p> +<p><b>McCarthy, Denis Aloysius,</b> poet, lecturer and +journalist, was born in Carrick-on-Suir, County Tipperary, +Ireland, in the year 1871, and made his elementary and +intermediate studies in the Christian Brothers' School of his +native town. Since his arrival in America in 1886, he has +published two volumes of poems which he modestly calls "A Round +of Rimes" and "Voices from Erin." "His poetry," says a +distinguished critic who is neither Irish nor Catholic, "is +soulful and sweet, and sings itself into the heart of anyone who +has a bit of sentiment in his make-up." Mr. McCarthy is at +present Associate Editor of the <i>Sacred Heart Review</i> of +Boston. He lectures on literary and Irish themes, and contributes +poems, stories, essays, book reviews, etc., to various papers and +magazines.</p> +<p><b>Newman, Cardinal John Henry,</b> was born in London in +1801, and studied at Trinity College, Oxford. In 1824 he became a +minister of the Church of England, and rose rapidly in his +profession. In 1845 he abandoned the English ministry, renounced +the errors of Protestantism, and entered the Catholic Church, of +which he remained till death a most faithful, devoted, and +zealous son. He was ordained priest in 1848, was made Rector of +the Catholic University of Dublin in 1854, and in 1879 was raised +to the rank of Cardinal by Pope Leo XIII. Cardinal Newman's +writings are beyond the grasp of young minds, yet they will +profit by and enjoy the perusal of his two great novels, "Loss +and Gain" and "Callista." The former is the story of a convert; +the latter a tale of the third century, in which the beautiful +heroine and martyr, Callista, is presented with a master's art. +Newman is the greatest master of English prose. In this field he +holds the same rank that Shakespeare does in English poetry. To +his style, Augustine Birrell, a noted English essayist, pays the +following graceful and eloquent tribute: "The charm of Dr. +Newman's style baffles description. As well might one seek to +analyze the fragrance of a flower, or to expound in words the +jumping of one's heart when a beloved friend unexpectedly enters +the room." This great Prince of the Church died the death of the +saints in the year 1890.</p> +<p><b>O'Reilly, John Boyle,</b> patriot, author, poet and +journalist, was born on the banks of the famous river Boyne, in +County Meath, Ireland, in the year 1844. In 1860 he went over to +England as agent of the Fenian Brotherhood, an organization whose +purpose was the freedom of Ireland from English rule. In 1863 he +joined the English army in order to sow the seeds of revolution +among the soldiers. In 1866 he was arrested, tried for treason, +and sentenced to death. This was afterwards commuted to twenty +years' penal servitude. In 1867 he was transported to Australia +to serve out his sentence, whence he escaped in 1869, and made +his way to Philadelphia. He became editor of the Boston +<i>Pilot</i> in 1874. He is the author of "Songs from the +Southern Seas," "Songs, Legends and Ballads," and of other works. +He died in 1890. All through life the voice and pen of Boyle +O'Reilly were at the service of his Church, his native land, and +his adopted country. Kindness was the keynote of his character. +In 1896 Boston erected in his honor a magnificent memorial +monument.</p> +<p><b>Riley, James Whitcomb,</b> called the "Hoosier Poet," was +born in Indiana in the year 1852. In many of his poems there is a +strong sense of humor. What he writes comes from the heart and +goes to the heart. He has written much in dialect. His home is in +Indianapolis.</p> +<p><b>Ruskin, John,</b> one of the most famous of English +authors, was born in London in 1819, and educated at Oxford. He +spent several years in Italy in the study of art. He wrote many +volumes of essays and lectures, chiefly on matters connected with +art and art criticism. In his writings we find many beautiful +pen-pictures of statues and fine buildings and such things. His +"Modern Painters," a treatise on art and nature, established his +reputation as the greatest art critic of England. He died in +1900.</p> +<p><b>Sangster, Mrs. Margaret E.,</b> editor and poet, was born +in New Rochelle, N.Y., on the 22d of February, 1838, and educated +in Vienna. She has successfully edited such periodicals as +<i>Hearth and Home, Harpers' Young People, and Harpers' +Bazaar,</i> in which much of her prose and poetry has appeared. +She is at present (1909) the editor of <i>The Woman's Home +Companion.</i></p> +<p><b>Southey, Robert,</b> an eminent English poet and author, +was born in the year 1774. He began to write verse at the age of +ten. In 1792 he was expelled from the Westminster School for +writing an essay against corporal punishment. He then entered one +of the colleges of Oxford University, where he became an intimate +friend of Coleridge. While residing at Lisbon he began a special +study of Spanish and Portuguese literature. In 1813 he was +appointed poet-laureate of England, and in 1835 received a +pension from the government. He died in 1843. Southey, Coleridge +and Wordsworth are often called "The Lake Poets," because they +lived together for years in the lake country of England, and in +their writings described the scenery of that beautiful +region.</p> +<p><b>Tennyson, Alfred,</b> is considered the greatest poet of +his age, and one of the great English poets of modern times. He +was born in the year 1809, and educated at Cambridge University. +In 1850 he gave to the world "In Memoriam," his lament for the +loss by death of his friend, Arthur H. Hallam. In 1851 he +succeeded Wordsworth as poet-laureate of England. His poems, long +and short, are general favorites. His "Idyls of the King," "The +Princess," "Maud," and "In Memoriam" are his chief long poems. +These are remarkable for beauty of expression and richness of +thought, of which Tennyson was master. He died in 1892, lamented +by the entire English-speaking world, and was buried in +Westminster Abbey. Tennyson always loved the sea, the music of +whose restless waves awakened an answering echo in his heart.</p> +<p><b>Wallace, William R.,</b> was born at Lexington, Ky., in the +year 1819. As a poet he is best known as the author of "The Sword +of Bunker Hill."</p> +<p><b>Westwood, Thomas,</b> an English poet, was born in the year +1814, and died in 1888. He wrote several volumes of poetry, one +of which was "Beads from a Rosary."</p> +<p><b>Whittier, John G.,</b> called the "Quaker Poet," was born +in Massachusetts in the year 1807. His parents were Quakers and +were poor. When young he learned to make shoes, and with the +money thus earned he paid his way at school. He was a boy of +nineteen when his first verses were published. His poems were +inspired by current events, and their patriotic spirit gives them +a strong hold upon the public. "Snow-bound" is considered his +greatest poem. Whittier loved home so much that he never visited +a foreign country, and traveled but little in his own. He gave +thirty of the best years of his life to the anti-slavery +struggle. While other poets traveled in foreign lands or studied +in their libraries, Whittier worked hard for the freedom of the +slave. Of this he wrote-<br> +</p> +<table summary="poem_Layout"> +<tr> +<td width="100"></td> +<td>"Forego the dreams of lettered ease,<br> + Put thou the scholar's promise by;<br> + The rights of man are more than these."<br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>Mr. Whittier died in the year 1892.</p> +<p><b>Wiseman, Cardinal Nicholas Patrick,</b> was born in the +year 1802 in Seville, Spain, of an Irish family settled there. +His family returned to Ireland, where he was educated. When he +was sixteen he entered the English College, Rome, and was +ordained priest in 1825. In 1840 he was appointed Coadjutor +Bishop, and in 1850 the Pope named him Archbishop of Westminster, +and at the same time created him a Cardinal. He was a profound +scholar, an eloquent preacher, and a brilliant writer, and is the +author of many able works. He was one of the founders of the +<i>Dublin Review.</i> He died in 1865. His "Fabiola or the Church +of the Catacombs," from which some selections have been taken for +this Reader, is one of the classics of our language. It was +written in 1854.</p> +<p><b>Woodworth, Samuel,</b> editor and poet, was born in +Massachusetts in 1785, and died in 1842. With George P. Morris, +he founded the <i>New York Mirror.</i> "The Old Oaken Bucket" is +the best known of his poems.</p> +<p>For sketches of other authors from whom selections are taken +for this book, see the Third and the Fourth Reader of the +series.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<hr class="c1"> +<br> +<br> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of De La Salle Fifth Reader +by Brothers of the Christian Schools + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DE LA SALLE FIFTH READER *** + +***** This file should be named 10811-h.htm or 10811-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/8/1/10811/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David Gundry and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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