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McGuffey, Compiler + + + + + +PREFACE + +It is now nearly three quarters of a century since the appearance +of the first edition of McGuffey's Readers, compiled by Dr. +William H. McGuffey. Revisions have since been made from time to +time as the advancement in educational theories and the changes +in methods of teaching seemed to demand. No other school text- +books have retained the popular favor so long or have exerted so +general and so wholesome an influence as has this series of +Readers. + +In preparing the present revision the aim of thie compiler has +been to introduce such new matter and methods as the experience +and judgment of the best teachers have found most commendable and +desirable. He has at the same time endeavored to preserve those +essential features which have always distinguished the McGuffey +Readers and have so largely contributed to their success. While +the majority of the selections are new to the series, care has +been taken to maintain the same high literary and ethical +standard that has hitherto so distinctly characterized these +books. Lessons inculcating kindness, courage, obedience, +industry, thrift, true manliness, patriotism, and other duties +and obligations form no small portion of the contents. Selections +from the masterpieces of English literature include both the +older classical productions, without which no school can be +complete, and also choice extracts from many of the latest and +most popular writers. + +The Elocutionary Introduction, by Professor F. Townsend +Southwick, presents in brief scope the most important rules for +oral reading and those principles of the art that are most +necessary for the pupils to master. The teacher should, at the +very onset, become thoroughly familiar with the subjects here +presented, and the pupils should be referred to this discussion +of elocutionary principles as often as occasion may require. + +The more difficult words are defined, and their pronunciation is +indicated by diacritical marks. The object of this is to aid the +pupil in the ready preparation of the reading lesson, and not to +supply merely an exercise in the study of words. Short +explanatory notes are given wherever required for a full +understanding of the text. It is assumed, however, that the +pupils have already a general knowledge of most of the subjects +alluded to, or that they have ready access to the more common +books of reference, and therefore only occasional notes of this +character are necessary. + +An alphabetical list of the authors of the various selections, +together with the brief biographical and critical notes, is given +as an appendix to the volume. + +Acknowledgments are due to Messrs. Little, Brown & Co., Charles +Scribner's Sons, the Century Company, and other publishers who +generously permitted the use, in this series, of selections from +their copyrighted works. + +The selections from Hawthorne, Longfellow, Whittier, Emerson, and +Lucy Larcom are used by special arrangement with and permission +of Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co., the authorized publishers of +the writings of these authors. + + + +CONTENTS + +[The Elocutionary Introduction and pronunciation markups are +omitted in the Project Gutenberg edition because of abundance of +non-ascii characters.] + +SELECTIONS FOR READING + +Young Benjamin Franklin -- Nathaniel Hawthorne +A Hard Word +A Song -- James Whitcomb Riley +The Journey of Life. An Allegory +What I live for +Try Again! -- Charlotte Elizabeth +True Manliness +The Miller of the Dee -- Charles Mackay +A Boy on a Farm -- Charles Dudley Warner +Meddlesome Mattie +The Eagle +The Old Eagle Tree -- John Todd +A New Kind of Fun -- From the German +Two Ways of telling a Story -- Henry K. Oliver +The Blind Men and the Elephant -- John G. Saxe +Harry's Riches +A Happy New Year -- Margaret E. Sangster +Jeanette and Jo -- Mary Mapes Dodge +Watseka. An Indian Legend +Harry and his Dog -- Mary Russell Milford +Little Boy Blue -- Eugene Field +If I were a Boy +The Tempest -- James T. Fields +The Right Way -- Frank R. Stockton +An Adventure with Wolves +The Old Oaken Bucket -- Samuel Woodworth +The Farmer and the Fox -- James Anthony Frowde +Hiawatha's Childhood -- H. W. Longfellow +At Rugby School -- Thomas Hughes +Somebody's Darling -- Marie La Coste +The Captive -- John R. Musick +The Star-Spangled Banner -- F. S. Key +Our National Banner -- Edward Everett +Burning the Fallow -- Susanna Moodie +Piccola -- Celia L. Thaxter +The Mountain and the Squirrel -- R. W. Emerson +Srange Stories of Ants: + White Ants -- Henry Drummond + Red Ants -- Jules Michelet +Dear Country Mine -- R. W. Gilder +My Country +The Four MacNicols -- William Black +The Blue and the Gray -- Ellen H. Flagg +The Captain's Feather -- Samuel M. Peck +The Ride to London -- Charles Dickens +The Planting of the Apple Tree -- W. C. Bryant +The Apple -- John Burroughs +The Bugle Song -- Alfred Tennyson +The Story of Captain John Smith -- John Esten Cooke +On the Banks of the Tennessee -- W. D. Gallagher +Good Will -- J. T. Trowbridge +The Good Reader +A Legend of Bregenz -- Adelaide A. Procter +The Golden Touch -- Nathaniel Hawthorne +The Brook -- Alfred Tennyson +The Sermon on the Mount -- Bible +The Song of Steam -- G. W. Cutter +The Gentle Hand -- T. S. Arthur +Spring -- Henry Timrod +Marion's Men -- William Gilmore Simms +The Pied Piper of Hamelin -- Robert Browning + + + +FOURTH READER + + +YOUNG BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. + +BY NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. + +When Benjamin Franklin was a boy he was very fond of fishing; and +many of his leisure hours were spent on the margin of the mill +pond catching flounders, perch, and eels that came up thither +with the tide. + +The place where Ben and his playmates did most of their fishing +was a marshy spot on the outskirts of Boston. On the edge of the +water there was a deep bed of clay, in which the boys were forced +to stand while they caught their fish. + +"This is very uncomfortable," said Ben Franklin one day to his +comrades, while they were standing in the quagmire. + +"So it is," said the other boys. "What a pity we have no better +place to stand on!" + +On the dry land, not far from the quagmire, there were at that +time a great many large stones that had been brought there to be +used in building the foundation of a new house. Ben mounted upon +the highest of these stones. + +"Boys," said he, "I have thought of a plan. You know what a +plague it is to have to stand in the quagmire yonder. See, I am +bedaubed to the knees, and you are all in the same plight. + +"Now I propose that we build a wharf. You see these stones? The +workmen mean to use them for building a house here. My plan is to +take these same stones, carry them to the edge of the water, and +build a wharf with them. What say you, lads? Shall we build the +wharf?" + +"Yes, yes," cried the boys; "let's set about it!" + +It was agreed that they should all be on the spot that evening, +and begin their grand public enterprise by moonlight. + +Accordingly, at the appointed time, the boys met and eagerly +began to remove the stones. They worked like a colony of ants, +sometimes two or three of them taking hold of one stone; and at +last they had carried them all away, and built their little +wharf. + +"Now, boys," cried Ben, when the job was done, "let's give three +cheers, and go home to bed. To-morrow we may catch fish at our +ease." + +"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" shouted his comrades, and all +scampered off home and to bed, to dream of to-morrow's sport. + +In the morning the masons came to begin their work. But what was +their surprise to find the stones all gone! The master mason, +looking carefully on the ground, saw the tracks of many little +feet, some with shoes and some barefoot. Following these to the +water side, he soon found what had become of the missing building +stones. + +"Ah! I see what the mischief is," said he; "those little rascals +who were here yesterday have stolen the stones to build a wharf +with. And I must say that they understand their business well." + +He was so angry that he at once went to make a complaint before +the magistrate; and his Honor wrote an order to "take the bodies +of Benjamin Franklin, and other evil-disposed persons," who had +stolen a heap of stones. + +If the owner of the stolen property had not been more merciful +than the master mason, it might have gone hard with our friend +Benjamin and his comrades. But, luckily for them, the gentleman +had a respect for Ben's father, and, moreover, was pleased with +the spirit of the whole affair. He therefore let the culprits off +easily. + +But the poor boys had to go through another trial, and receive +sentence, and suffer punishment, too, from their own fathers. +Many a rod was worn to the stump on that unlucky night. As for +Ben, he was less afraid of a whipping than of his father's +reproof. And, indeed, his father was very much disturbed. + +"Benjamin, come hither," began Mr. Franklin in his usual stern +and weighty tone. The boy approached and stood before his +father's chair. "Benjamin," said his father, "what could induce +you to take property which did not belong to you?" + +"Why, father," replied Ben, hanging his head at first, but then +lifting his eyes to Mr. Franklin's face, "if it had been merely +for my own benefit, I never should have dreamed of it. But I knew +that the wharf would be a public convenience. If the owner of the +stones should build a house with them, nobody would enjoy any +advantage but himself. Now, I made use of them in a way that was +for the advantage of many persons." + +"My son," said Mr. Franklin solemnly, "so far as it was in your +power, you have done a greater harm to the public than to the +owner of the stones. I do verily believe, Benjamin, that almost +all the public and private misery of mankind arises from a +neglect of this great truth,--that evil can produce only evil, +that good ends must be wrought out by good means." + +To the end of his life, Ben Franklin never forgot this +conversation with his father; and we have reason to suppose, +that, in most of his public and private career, he sought to act +upon the principles which that good and wise man then taught him. + + +DEFINITIONS:--In defining words, that meaning is given which is +appropriate to them in the connection in which they are used. The +pupil should look in the dictionary for the meaning of all the +others with which he is not perfectly familiar. + +Quagmire, soft, wet, miry land. Outskirt, borders. Plague, +bother, great trouble. Plight, condition. Wharf, a platform on +the shore of a harbor, river, or lake, extending some way into +the water. Comrades, companions, playfellows. Magistrate, an +officer of the law, justice of the peace. Ringleader, the leader +of several persons acting together. Culprits, wrong-doers. +Solemnly, with great dignity. Induce, lead persuade. Benefit, +profit, accomodation. Verily, truly. + + +EXERCISE.--Where is Boston? How long ago did Benjamin Franklin +live? Learn all that you can about his life and work, and repeat +it to the class at the next recitation. + + + +A HARD WORD. + +"P-o po, p-o po, Popo, c-a-t cat, Popocat--Oh dear, what a hard +word! Let me see, Po-po-cat-e-petl. I can never pronounce it, I +am sure. I wish they would not have such hard names in +geography," said George Gould, quite out of patience. "Will you +please tell me how to pronounce the name of this mountain, +father?" + +"Why, do you call that a hard word to pronounce, George? I know +much harder words than that." + +"Well, father this is the hardest word I ever saw," replied +George. "I wish they had put the name into the volcano, and +burned it up." + +"I know how to pronounce it," said Jane. "It is Po-po' +ca-ta'petl." + +"Po-po' ca-ta'petl," said George, stopping at each syllable. +"Well, it is not so very hard, after all; but I wish they would +not have any long words, and then one could pronounce them easily +enough." + +"I do not think so," said his father. "Some of the hardest words +I have ever seen are the shortest. I know one little word, with +only two letters in it, that very few children, or men either, +can always speak." + +"Oh, I suppose it is borne French or German word; isn't it, +father?" + +"No: it is English; and you may think it strange, but it is just +as hard to pronounce in one language as another." + +"Only two letters! What can it be?" cried both the children. + +"The hardest word," replied their father, "I have ever met with +in any language--and I have learned several--is a little word of +two letters--N-o, no." + +"Now you are making fun of us!" cried the children: "that is one +of the easiest words in the world." And, to prove that their +father was mistaken, they both repeated, "N-o, no; n-o, no," a +great many times. + +"I am not joking in the least. I really think it is the hardest +of all words. It may seem easy enough to you to-night, but +perhaps you cannot pronounce it to-morrow." + +"I can always say it, I know I can;" said George with much +confidence--"NO! Why, it is as easy to say it as to breathe." + +"Well, George, I hope you will always find it as easy to +pronounce as you think it is now, and that you will be able to +speak it when you ought to." + +In the morning George went bravely to school, a little proud that +he could pronounce so hard a word as "Popocatepetl." Not far +frown the schoolhouse was a large pond of very deep water, where +the boys used to skate and slide when it was frozen over. + +Now, the night before, Jack Frost had been busy changing the +surface of the pond into beautiful crystals of ice; and when the +boys went to school in the morning they found the pond as smooth +and clear as glass. The day was cold, and they thought that by +noon the ice would be strong enough to skate upon. + +As soon as school was dismissed the boys all ran to the +pond,--some to try the ice, and others merely to see it. + +"Come, George," said William Green; "now we shall have a glorious +time sliding." + +George hesitated, and said he did not believe it was strong +enough, for it had been frozen over only one night. + +"Oh, come on!" said another boy: "I know it is strong enough. I +have known it to freeze over in one night, many a time, so it +would bear: haven't you, John?" + +"Yes," answered John Brown: "it did so one night last winter; and +it wasn't so cold as it was last night, either." + +But George still hesitated, for his father had forbidden him to +go on the ice without special permission. + +"I know why George won't go," said John; "he's afraid he might +fall down and hurt himself." + +"Or the ice might crack," said another; "and the noise would +frighten him. Perhaps his mother might not like it." + +"He's a coward, that's the reason he won't come." + +George could stand this no longer, for he was rather proud of his +courage. "I am not afraid," said he; and he ran to the pond, and +was the first one on the ice. The boys enjoyed the sport very +much, running and sliding, and trying to catch one another on its +smooth surface. + +More boys kept coming on as they saw the sport, and soon all +thought of danger was forgotten. Then suddenly there was a loud +cry, "The ice has broken! the ice has broken!" And sure enough, +three of the boys had broken through, and were struggling in the +water; and one of them was George. + +The teacher had heard the noise, and was coming to call the boys +from the ice just as they broke through. He tore some boards from +a fence close by, and shoved them out on the ice until they came +within reach of the boys in the water. After a while he succeeded +in getting the three boys out of the water, but not until they +were almost frozen. + +George's father and mother were very much troubled when he was +brought home, and they learned how narrowly he had escaped +drowning. But they were so glad to know that. he was safe that +they did not ask him any questions until he was warm and +comfortable again. But in the evening, when they were all +gathered together about the cheerful fire, his father asked him +how he came to disobey his positive command. + +George answered that he did not want to go on the ice, but the +boys made him. + +"How did they make you? Did they take hold of you, and drag you +on?" asked his father. + +"No," said George, "but they all wanted me to go." + +"When they asked you, why didn't you say 'No'?" + +"I was going to do so: but they called me a coward, and said I +was afraid to go; and I couldn't stand that." + +"And so," said his father, "you found it easier to disobey me, +and run the risk of losing your life, than to say that little +word you thought so easy last night. You could not say 'No.'" + +George now began to see why this little word"No" was so hard to +pronounce. It was not because it was so long, or composed of such +difficult sounds; but because it often requires so much real +courage to say it,--to say "No" when one is tempted to do wrong. + +After that, whenever George was tempted to do wrong, he +remembered his narrow escape from drowning, and the importance of +the little word "No." The oftener he said it, the easier it +became; and in time he could say it, when necessary, without much +effort. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Popocatepetl, a volcano in Mexico (sometimes +inaccurately pronounced po po cat' a petl). Prounounce, say +distinctly. Syllable, one of the distinct parts of a word. +Attracted, drawn. Hesitated, paused. Importance, value. Special, +particular. + + + +A SONG* + +BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY + +There is ever a song somewhere, my dear, + There is ever a something sings alway: +There's the song of the lark when the skies are clear, + And the song of the thrush when the skies are gray. +The sunshine showers across the grain, + And the bluebird trills in the orchard tree; +And in and out, when the eaves drip rain, + The swallows are twittering carelessly. + +There is ever a song somewhere, my dear, + Be the skies above or dark or fair; +There is ever a song that our hearts may hear-- +There is ever a song somewhere, my dear-- + There is ever a song somewhere! + +There is ever a song somewhere, my dear, + In the midnight black or the midday blue: +The robin pipes when the sun is here, + And the cricket chirrups the whole night through; +The buds may blow and the fruit may grow, + And the autumn leaves drop crisp and sere: +But whether the sun or the rain or the snow, + There is ever a song somewhere, my dear. + +* From "Afterwhiles." Copyright, 1887. By permission of the +Bowen-Merrill Company, publishers; Indianapolis, Indiana. + + + +THE JOURNEY OF LIFE. + +AN ALLEGORY. + +Once upon a time, a good many years ago, there was a traveler, +and he set out upon a journey. It was a magic journey, and was to +seem very long when he began it, and very short when he got +halfway through. + +He traveled along a rather dark path for some little time, +without meeting anything, until at last he came to a beautiful +child. So he said to the child, "What do you here?" And the child +said, "I am always at play. Come and play with me." + +So he played with the child the whole day long, and they were +very merry. The sky was so blue, the sun was so bright, the water +was so sparkling, the leaves were so green, the flowers were so +lovely, and they heard so many singing birds, and saw so many +butterflies, that everything was beautiful. This was in fine +weather. + +When it rained, they loved to watch the falling drops and smell +the fresh scents. When it blew, it was delightful to listen to +the wind, and fancy what it said, as it came rushing from its +home, whistling and howling, and driving the clouds before it, +bending the trees, rumbling in the chimneys, shaking the house +and making the sea roar in fury. + +But when it snowed, that was the best of all; for they liked +nothing so well as to look up at the white flakes falling fast +and thick, like down frown the breasts of millions of white +birds, and to see how smooth and deep the drift was, and to +listen to the hush upon the paths and roads. + +But one day of a sudden the traveler lost the child. He called to +him over and over again, but got no answer. So he went on for a +little while without meeting anything, until at last he came to a +handsome boy. He said to the boy, "What do you here?" And the boy +said, "I am always learning. Come and learn with me." + +So he learned with the boy about Jupiter and Juno, and the Greeks +and Romans,--more than I could tell, or he either; for he soon +forgot a great deal of it. But they were not always learning; +they had the merriest games that ever were played. + +They rowed upon the river in summer, and skated on the ice in +winter; they were active afoot and active on horseback; at +cricket, and all games of ball; at prisoner's base, +hare-and-hounds, follow-my-leader, and more sports than I can +think of: nobody could beat them. As to friends, they had such +dear friends, and so many of them, that I want the time to reckon +them up. They were all young, like the handsome boy, and were +never to be strange to one another all their lives through. + +Still, one day, in the midst of all these pleasures, the traveler +lost the boy, as he had lost the child, and, after calling him in +vain, went on upon his journey. So he went on for a while without +seeing anything, until at last he came to a young man. He said to +the young man, "What do you here?" And the young man said, "I am +always in love. Come and love with me." + +But the traveler lost the young man as he had lost the rest of +his friends, and, after calling to him to come back, which he +never did, went on upon his journey. At last he came to a +middle-aged gentleman. So he said to him, "What are you doing +here?" And his answer was, "I am always busy. Come and be busy +with me." + +The traveler began to be very busy with the gentleman, and they +went on through the wood together. The whole journey was through +a wood, only it had been open and green at first, like a wood in +spring, and now began to be thick and dark, like a wood in +summer; some of the little trees that had come out earliest were +even turning brown. + +The gentleman was not alone, but had a lady of about the same age +with him, who was his wife; and they had children, who were with +them too. They all went on together through the wood, cutting +down the trees, and making a path among the branches, and +carrying burdens and working hard. + +Sometimes they came to a long green avenue that opened into +deeper woods. Then they would hear a very distant little voice +crying, "Father, father, I am another child! Stop for me!" And +presently they would see a very little figure, growing larger as +it came along, running to join them. When it came up, they all +crowded round it, and kissed and welcomed it; and then they all +went on together. + +Sometimes they came to several avenues at once; and then they all +stood still, and one of the children said, "Father, I am going to +sea;" and another said, "Father, I am going to India;" and +another, "Father, I am going to seek my fortune where I can;" and +another, "Father, I am going to heaven." + +So, with many tears at parting, they went, solitary, down those +avenues, each child upon its way; and the child who went to +heaven rose into the golden air and vanished. + +Whenever these partings happened, the traveler looked at the +gentleman, and saw him glance up at the sky above the trees, +where the day was beginning to decline, and the sunset to come +on. He saw, too, that his hair was turning gray. But they could +never rest long, for they had their journey to perform, and it +was necessary for them to be always busy. + +At last, there had been so many partings that there were no +children left, and only the traveler, the gentleman, and the lady +went upon their way in company. And now the wood was yellow; and +now brown; and the leaves, even of the forest trees, began to +fall. + +They came to an avenue that was darker than the rest, and were +pressing forward on their journey without looking down it, when +the lady stopped. + +"My husband," said the lady, "I am called." + +They listened, and they heard a voice a long way down the avenue +say, "Mother, mother!" + +It was the voice of the child who had said, "I am going to +heaven!" and the father cried, "I pray not yet. The sunset is +very near. I pray not yet." + +But the voice called, "Mother, mother!" without minding him, +though his hair was now quite white, and tears were on his face. + +Then the mother, who was already drawn into the shade of the dark +avenue, and moving away with her arms still around his neck, +kissed him and said, "My dearest, I am summoned, and I go!" And +she was gone. The traveler and he were left alone together. + +And they went on and on, until they came very near to the end of +the wood; so near, that they could see the setting sun shining +red before them through the trees. + +Yet once more, while he broke his way among the branches, the +traveler lost his friend. He called and called, but there was no +reply, and when he passed out of the wood and saw the peaceful +sun going down upon a wide purple prospect, he came to an old man +sitting upon a fallen tree. He said to the old man, "What do you +here?" And the old man said, with a calm smile, "I am always +remembering. Come and remember with me." + +So the traveler sat down by the side of the old man, face to face +with the serene sunset; and all his friends came softly back and +stood around him. The beautiful child, the handsome boy, the +young man, the father, mother, and children every one of them was +there, and he had lost nothing. He loved them all, and was kind +and forbearing with them all, and they all honored and loved him. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Scents, smells. Cricket, a game at ball very +popular in England.Solitary, alone. Summoned, called. Allegory, a +truth related in the form of a story. + + + +WHAT I LIVE FOR. + +I live for those who love me, + Whose hearts are kind and true, +For the heaven that smiles above me, + And awaits my spirit, too; +For all human ties that bind me, +For the task my God assigned me, +For the bright hopes left behind me, + And the good that I can do. +I live to learn their story, + Who suffered for my sake; +To emulate their glory, +And follow in their wake; +Bards, patriots, martyrs, sages, +The noble of all ages, +Whose deeds crown History's pages, + And Time's great volume make. + +I live to hail that season, + By gifted minds foretold, +When man shall live by reason, + And not alone by gold; +When man to man united, +And every wrong thing righted, +The whole world shall be lighted + As Eden was of old. + +I live for those who love me, + For those who know me true; +For the heaven that smiles above me, + And awaits my spirit, too; +For the cause that needs assistance, +For the wrongs that need resistance, +For the future in the distance, + And the good that I can do. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Assigned, allotted, marked out. Emulate, to strive +to equal or excel, to rival. Wake, the track left by a vessel in +the water; hence, figuratively, in the trail of. Bard, a poet. +Martyr, one who scarifices what is of great value to him for the +sake of principle. Sage, a wise man. + + + +TRY AGAIN! + +BY CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH. + +"Will you give my kite a lift?" said my little nephew to his +sister, after trying in vain to make it fly by dragging it along +the ground. Lucy very kindly took it up and threw it into the +air, but, her brother neglecting to run off at the same moment, +the kite fell down again. + +"Ah! now, how awkward you are!" said the little fellow. "It was +your fault entirely," answered his sister. "Try again, children," +said I. + +Lucy once more took up the kite. But now John was in too great a +hurry; he ran off so suddenly that he twitched the kite out of +her hand, and it fell flat as before. "Well, who is to blame +now?" asked Lucy. "Try again," said I. + +They did, and with more care; but a side wind coming suddenly, as +Lucy let go the kite, it was blown against some shrubs, and the +tail became entangled in a moment, leaving the poor kite hanging +with its head downward. + +"There, there!" cried John, "that comes of your throwing it all +to one side." "As if I could make the wind blow straight," said +Lucy. In the meantime, I went to the kite's assistance; and +having disengaged the long tail, I rolled it up, saying, "Come, +children, there are too many trees here; let us find a more open +space, and then try again." + +We soon found a fine, open space, covered with green grass, and +free from shrubs and trees. Then, all things being ready, I +tossed the kite up just as little John ran off. It rose with all +the dignity of a balloon, and promised a lofty flight; but John, +delighted to find it pulling so hard at the string, stopped short +to look upward and admire. The string slackened, the kite +wavered, and, the wind not being very strong, down came the kite +to the grass. "O John, you should not have stopped," said I. +"However, try again." + +"I won't try any more," replied he, rather sullenly. "It is of no +use, you see. The kite won't fly, and I don't want to be plagued +with it any longer." + +"Oh, fie, my little man! would you give up the sport, after all +the pains we have taken both to make and to fly the kite? A few +disappointments ought not to discourage us. Come, I have wound up +your string, and now try again." + +And he did try, and succeeded, for the kite was carried upward on +the breeze as lightly as a feather; and when the string was all +out, John stood in great delight, holding fast the stick and +gazing on the kite, which now seemed like a little white speck in +the blue sky. "Look, look, aunt, how high it flies! and it pulls +like a team of horses, so that I can hardly hold it. I wish I had +a mile of string: I am sure it would go to the end of it." + +After enjoying the sight as long as he wished, little John +proceeded to roll up the string slowly; and when the kite fell, +he took it up with great glee, saying that it was not at all +hurt, and that it had behaved very well. "Shall we come out +to-morrow, aunt, and try again?" + +"Yes, my dear, if the weather is fine. And now, as we walk home, +tell me, what you have learned from your morning's sport." + +"I have learned to fly my kite properly." + +"You may thank aunt for it, brother," said Lucy, "for you would +have given it up long ago, if she had not persuaded you to try +again." + +"Yes, dear children, I wish to teach you the value of +perseverance, even when nothing more depends upon it than the +flying of a kite. Whenever you fail in your attempts to do any +good thing, let your motto be,--TRY AGAIN." + + +DEFINITIONS:--Entangled, twisted in, disordered. Assistance, +help, aid. Disengaged, cleared, set free. Dignity, majestic +manner. Disappointments, failures or defeats of expectation. +Discourage, take away courage. Glee, joy. Perseverance, +continuance in anything once begun. Motto, a short sentence or a +word full of meaning. + +EXERCISE--What is the subject of this lesson? Why was John +discouraged in his attempts to fly his kite? What did his aunt +say to him? What may we learn from this? What should be our motto +if we expect to be successful? + + + +TRUE MANLINESS. + +I. + +"Please, mother, do sit down and let me try my hand," said Fred +Liscom, a bright active boy, twelve years old. Mrs. Liscom, +looking pale and worn, was moving languidly about, trying to +clear away the breakfast she had scarcely tasted. + +She smiled, and said, "You, Fred, you wash dishes?" "Yes, indeed, +mother," answered Fred; "I should be a poor scholar if I +couldn't, when I've seen you do it so many times. Just try me." + +A look of relief came over his mother's face as she seated +herself in her low rocking-chair. Fred washed the dishes and put +them in the closet. He swept the kitchen, brought up the potatoes +from the cellar for the dinner and washed them, and then set out +for school. + +Fred's father was away from home, and as there was some cold meat +in the pantry, Mrs. Liscom found it an easy task to prepare +dinner. Fred hurried home from school, set the table, and again +washed the dishes. + +He kept on in this way for two or three days, till his mother was +able to resume her usual work, and he felt amply rewarded when +the doctor, who happened in one day, said, "Well, madam, it's my +opinion that you would have been very sick if you had not kept +quiet." + +The doctor did not know how the "quiet" had been secured, nor how +the boy's heart bounded at his words. Fred had given up a great +deal of what boys hold dear, for the purpose of helping his +mother, coasting and skating being just at this time in +perfection. + +Besides this, his temper and his patience had been severely. +tried. He had been in the habit of going early to school, and +staying to play after it was dismissed. + +The boys missed him, and their curiosity was excited when he +would give no other reason for not coming to school earlier, or +staying after school, than that he was "wanted at home." + +"I'll tell you," said Tom Barton, "I'll find him out, boys--see +if I don't!" + +So, one morning on his way to school, he called for Fred. As he +went around to the side door he walked lightly. and somewhat +nearer the kitchen window than was absolutely needful. Looking +in, he saw Fred standing at the table with a dishcloth in his +hand. + +Of course he reported this at school, and various were the +greetings poor Fred received at recess. "Well, you're a brave one +to stay at home washing dishes!" "Girl boy!" "Pretty Bessie!" +"Lost your apron, haven't you, Polly!" + +Fred was not wanting either in spirit or in courage, and he was +strongly tempted to resent these insults, and to fight some of +his tormentors. But his consciousness of right and his love for +his mother helped him. + +While he was struggling for self mastery, his teacher appeared at +the door of the schoolhouse. Fred caught his eye, and it seemed +to look, if it did not say, "Don't give up! Be really brave!" He +knew the teacher had heard the insulting taunts of his +thoughtless schoolmates. + +The boys received notice during the day that Fred must not be +taunted or teased in any manner. They knew that the teacher meant +what he said; and so the brave little boy had no further trouble. + +II. + +"Fire! fire! " The cry crept out on the still night air, and the +fire bells began to mug. Fred was wakened by the alarm and the +red light streaming into his room. He dressed himself very +quickly, and then tapped at the door of his mother's bedroom. + +"It is Mr. Barton's house, mother. Do let me go," he said in +eager, excited tones. Mrs. Liscom thought a moment. He was young, +but she could trust him, and she knew how much his heart was in +the request. + +"Yes, you may go," she answered; "but be careful, my boy. If you +can help, do so; but do nothing rashly." Fred promised to follow +her advice, and hurried to the fire. + +Mr. and Mrs. Barton were not at home. The house had been left in +charge of the servants. The fire spread with fearful speed, for +there was a high wind, and it was found impossible to save the +house. The servants ran about screaming and lamenting, but doing +nothing to any purpose. + +Fred found Tom outside, in safety. "Where is Katy?" he asked. +Tom, trembling with terror, seemed to have had no thought but of +his own escape. He said, "Katy is in the house!" "In what room?" +asked Fred. "In that one," answered Tom, pointing to a window in +the upper story. + +It was no time for words, but for instant, vigorous action. The +staircase was already on fire; there was but one way to reach +Katy, and that full of danger. The second floor might fall at any +moment, and Fred knew it. But he trusted in an arm stronger than +his own, and silently sought help and guidance. + +A ladder was quickly brought, and placed against the house. Fred +mounted it, followed by the hired man, dashed in the sash of the +window, and pushed his way into the room where the poor child lay +nearly suffocated with smoke. + +He roused her with some difficulty, carried her to the window, +and placed her upon the sill. She was instantly grasped by strong +arms, and carried down the ladder, Fred following as fast as +possible. They had scarcely reached the ground before a crash of +falling timbers told them that they had barely escaped with their +lives. + +Tom Barton never forgot the lesson of that night; and he came to +believe, and to act upon the belief, in after years, that true +manliness is in harmony with gentleness, kindness, and +self-denial. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Languidly, feebly. Amply, fully. Opinion, judgment, +belief. Absolutely, wholly, entirely. Resent, to consider as an +injury. Consciousness, inward feeling, knowledge of what passes +in one's own mind. + + + +THE MILLER OF THE DEE. + +BY CHARLES MACKAY. + +There dwelt a miller hale and bold + Beside the river Dee; +He worked and sang from morn till night, + No lark more blithe than he; +And this the burden of his song + Forever used to be,-- +"I envy nobody; no, not I, + And nobody envies me!" + +"Thou'rt wrong, my friend!" said good King Hal; + "Thou'rt wrong as wrong can be; +For could my heart be light as thine, + I'd gladly change with thee. +And tell me now, what makes thee sing, + With voice so loud and free, +While I am sad, though I'm the king, + Beside the river Dee." + +The miller smiled and doffed his cap: + "I earn my bread," quoth he; +"I love my wife, I love my friend, + I love my children three; +I owe no penny I cannot pay; + I thank the river Dee, +That turns the mill that grinds the corn, + To feed my babes and me." + +"Good friend," said Hal, and sighed the while, + "Farewell! and happy be; +But say no more, if thou'dst be true, + That no one envies thee. +Thy mealy cap is worth my crown, + Thy mill my kingdom's fee; +Such men as thou are England's boast, + Oh miller of the Dee!" + + +DEFINITIONS:--Hale, hearty, strong. Blithe, happy. Quoth, said. +Fee, wealth, possession. + + + +A BOY ON A FARM. + +BY CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER. + +Say what you will about the general usefulness of boys, it is my +impression that a farm without a boy would very soon come to +grief. What the boy does is the life of the farm. He is the +factotum, always in demand, always expected to do the thousand +indispensable things that nobody else will do. Upon him fall all +the odds and ends, the most difficult things. + +After everybody else is through, he has to finish up. His work is +like a woman's,--perpetually waiting on others. Everybody knows +how much easier it is to eat a good dinner than it is to wash the +dishes afterward. Consider what a boy on a farm is required to +do; things that must be done, or life would actually stop. + +It is understood, in the first place, that he is to do all the +errands, to go to the store, to the post office, and to carry all +sorts of messages. If he had as many legs as a centiped, they +would tire before night. His two short limbs seem to him entirely +inadequate to the task. He would like to have as many legs as a +wheel has spokes, and rotate about in the same way. + +This he sometimes tries to do; and the people who have seen him +"turning cart wheels" along the side of the road, have supposed +that he was amusing himself and idling his time; he was only +trying to invent a new mode of locomotion, so that he could +economize his legs, and do his errands with greater dispatch. + +He practices standing on his head, in order to accustom himself +to any position. Leapfrog is one of his methods of getting over +the ground quickly. He would willingly go an errand any distance +if he could leapfrog it with a few other boys. + +He has a natural genius for combining pleasure with business. +This is the reason why, when he is sent to the spring for a +pitcher of water, he is absent so long; for he stops to poke the +frog that sits on the stone, or, if there is a penstock, to put +his hand over the spout, and squirt the water a little while. + +He is the one who spreads the grass when the men have cut it; he +mows it away in the barn; he rides the horse, to cultivate the +corn, up and down the hot, weary rows; he picks up the potatoes +when they are dug; he drives the cows night and morning; he +brings wood and water, and splits kindling; he gets up the horse, +and puts out the horse; whether he is in the house or out of it, +there is always something for him to do. + +Just before the school in winter he shovels paths; in summer he +turns the grindstone. He knows where there are lots of +wintergreens and sweet flags, but, instead of going for them, he +is to stay indoors and pare apples, and stone raisins, and pound +something in a mortar. And yet, with his mind full of schemes of +what he would like to do, and his hands full of occupations, he +is an idle boy, who has nothing to busy himself with but school +and chores! + +He would gladly do all the work if somebody else would do the +chores, he thinks; and yet I doubt if any boy ever amounted to +anything in the world; or was of much use as a man, who did not +enjoy the advantages of a liberal education in the way of +chores. --From "Being a Boy." + + +DEFINITIONS:--Factotum, a person employed to do all kinds of +work. Indispensable, absolutely necessary. Perpetually, +continually. Centiped, an insect with a great number of feet. +Economize, to save. Dispatch, diligence, haste. Penstock, a +wooden tube for conducting water. Chores, the light work of the +household either within or without doors. + +EXERCISE.--Call you tell of anything else that a boy on a farm +must do? What advantages has a country boy over a city boy? What +advantages has the city boy? + + + +MEDDLESOME MATTIE. + +Oh, how one ugly trick has spoiled + The sweetest and the best! +Matilda, though a pleasant child, + One grievous fault possessed, +Which, like a cloud before the skies, +Hid all her better qualities. + +Sometimes, she'd lift the teapot lid + To peep at what was in it; +Or tilt the kettle, if you did + But turn your back a minute. +In vain you told her not to touch, +Her trick of meddling grew so much. + +Her grandmamma went out one day, + And, by mistake, she laid +Her spectacles and snuffbox gay, + Too near the little maid; +"Ah! well," thought she, "I'll try them on, +As soon as grandmamma is gone." + +Forthwith, she placed upon her nose + The glasses large and wide; +And looking round, as I suppose, + The snuffbox, too, she spied. +"Oh, what a pretty box is this! +I'll open it," said little miss. + +"I know that grandmamma would say, + 'Don't meddle with it, dear;' +But then she's far enough away, + And no one else is near; +Beside, what can there be amiss +In opening such a box as this?" + +So, thumb and finger went to work + To move the stubborn lid; +And, presently, a mighty jerk + The mighty mischief did; +For all at once, ah! woeful case! +The snuff came puffing in her face. + +Poor eyes, and nose, and mouth, and chin + A dismal sight presented; +And as the snuff got further in, + Sincerely she repented. +In vain she ran about for ease, +She could do nothing else but sneeze. + +She dashed the spectacles away, + To wipe her tingling eyes; +And, as in twenty bits they lay, + Her grandmamma she spies. +"Heyday! and what's the matter now?" +Cried grandmamma, with angry brow. + +Matilda, smarting with the pain, + And tingling still, and sore, +Made many a promise to refrain + From meddling evermore; +And 'tis a fact, as I have heard, +She ever since has kept her word. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Qualities, traits of character. Meddling, +interfering without right. Forthwith, at once. Spied, saw. Amiss, +wrong, faulty. Woeful, sad, sorrowful. TIngling, smarting. +Refrain, to keep from. + +EXERCISE.--Write the story of Meddlesome Mattie, using your own +words and not trying to make rhymes. What lesson may be learned +from this story? What is a snuffbox? This story was written +almost a hundred years ago. Do ladies use snuffboxes now? + + + +THE EAGLE. + +The eagle is called the king of the birds. He is a large, fierce +bird of prey, of immense strength and great courage; and he +sweeps through the air with a majesty and dignity well becoming +to his noble title. + +The eagle leads a solitary life in the wild places of the earth. +He dwells on the crags of mountains or on the lonely peaks of +huge rocks, at whose base the ocean dashes its waves. He swoops +down through dark forests, and uninhabited prairies, and gloomy +glens, seeking his prey. + +The Golden Eagle is a splendid bird. The female at full growth is +three feet and a half in length, while the wings stretch from tip +to tip no less than nine feet. The male is not quite so large, +but very nearly so. The name "golden" is taken from the color of +the plumes of the head and neck, which are of a rich golden red +hue. The rest of the body is for the most part covered with rich +blackish brown feathers. + +The eagle is well armed for battle and plunder. The beak is +powerful, and bent like a hook, with edges as sharp as a knife. +The feet are furnished with four terrible toes, which have long +and sharp nails, called talons. The eyes are piercing, and flash +forth the proudest glances. + +The eagle flies with most graceful ease. On his broad wings, +moved by strong muscles, he sweeps boldly through the air, rising +in circles till he is all but lost to the sight of the beholder. +From this high position he can see far and wide beneath him; +his keen eye singles out his prey at a long distance; and down he +dives with the suddenness of a flash of lightning. + +This terrible suddenness of attack commonly kills the victim on +the instant. The weapon of death is not the beak, but either the +wing or the claws; a flap of the wing or a clutch of the talons +is usually enough for the purpose. The eagle kills and eats birds +that are smaller and weaker than himself, he lives upon the best +of the game, and he drags the best of the fish out of the river +or the sea. He carries off the farmer's poultry, and often also +young pigs or lambs; sometimes, it is said, he has carried off to +his nest even a little boy or girl. + +The eagle's nest, or eyrie, is high up on the ledge of some +precipice, where hardly any enemy can come. Of course it is a +very large nest; but it is not carefully or nicely built. It is a +rough affair, like the rook's nest; a lot of sticks and twigs, +and heath or grass, with a more comfortable hollow in the middle, +which is padded with softer materials. Here the young are reared; +and here the male bird brings home prey for the female and the +eaglets; bones and flesh are scattered about everywhere. The +eagle is much attached to the spot where he makes his home; he +dwells in the same eyrie year after year, and shows little desire +to seek his fortunes elsewhere. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Immense, very great. Majesty, stateliness, +elevation of manner. Dignity, grace, loftiness of manner. Title, +name. Solitary, living by oneself. Crags, steep, rugged rocks. +Base, foot, bottom. Plumes, feathers. Talons, claws. Eyrie, the +nest of a bird that builds in a lofty place. Ledge, a ridge or +projection. Rook, a bird resembling a crow, but smaller. Reared, +brought up. Eaglets, young eagles. + +EXERCISE.--What qualities of the eagle may be admired? What +traits has he that are not to be admired? + + + +THE OLD EAGLE TREE. + +BY JOHN TODD. + +In a distant field stood a large tulip tree, apparently of a +century's growth, and one of the most gigantic. It looked like +the father of the surrounding forest. A single tree of huge +dimensions, standing all alone, is a sublime object. + +On the top of this tree, an old eagle, commonly called the +"Fishing Eagle," had built her nest every year, for many years, +and, undisturbed, had raised her young. A remarkable place to +choose, as she procured her food from the ocean, and this tree +stood full ten miles from the seashore. It had long been known as +the "Old Eagle Tree." + +On a warm, sunny day, the workmen were hoeing corn in an +adjoining field. At a certain hour of the day, the old eagle was +known to set off for the seaside, to gather food for her young. +As she this day returned with a large fish in her claws, the +workmen surrounded the tree, and by yelling and hooting, and +throwing stones, so scared the poor bird that she dropped her +fish, and they carried it off in triumph. + +The men soon dispersed, but Joseph sat down under a bush near by, +to watch, and to bestow unavailing pity. The bird soon returned +to her nest, without food. The eaglets at once set up a cry for +food, so shrill, so clear, and so clamorous that the boy was +greatly moved. + +The parent bird seemed to try to soothe them; but their appetites +were too keen, and it was all in vain. She then perched herself +on a limb near them, and looked down into the nest in a manner +that seemed to say, "I know not what to do next." + +Her indecision was but momentary; again she poised herself, +uttered one or two sharp notes, as if telling them to "lie +still," balanced her body, spread her wings, and was away again +for the sea. + +Joseph was determined to see the result. His eye followed her +till she grew small, smaller, a mere speck in the sky, and then +disappeared. What boy has not thus watched the flight of the bird +of his country! + +She was gone nearly two hours, about double her usual time for a +voyage, when she again returned, on a slow weary wing, flying +uncommonly low, in order to have a heavier atmosphere to sustain +her, with another fish in her talons. + +On nearing the field, she made a circuit round it, to see if her +enemies were again there. Finding the coast clear, she once more +reached the tree, drooping, faint, and weary, and evidently +nearly exhausted. Again the eaglets set up their cry, which was +soon hushed by the distribution of a dinner, such as, save the +cooking, a king might admire. + +"Glorious bird!" cried the boy, "what a spirit! Other birds can +fly more swiftly, others can sing more sweetly, others scream +more loudly; but what other bird, when persecuted and robbed, +when weary, when discouraged, when so far from the sea, would +have done this? + +"Glorious bird! I will learn a lesson from thee to-day. I will +never forget hereafter, that when the spirit is determined it can +do almost anything. Others would have drooped, and hung the head, +and mourned over the cruelty of man, and sighed over the wants of +the nestlings; but thou, by at once recovering the loss, hast +forgotten all. + +"I will learn of thee, noble bird! I will remember this. I will +set my mark high. I will try to do something, and to be something +in the world; I will never yield to discouragements." + + +DEFINITIONS:--Century, the space of a hundred years. Gigantic, +very large. Dimensions, size. Sublime, grand, noble. Disperse, +scattered. Unavailing, useless. Eaglets, young eagles. Clamorous, +loud, noisy. Indecision, want of fixed purpose. Momentary, for a +single moment. Circuit, movement round in a circle. Exhausted, +wholly tired out. Nestlings, young birds in the nest. + +EXERCISE.--What lesson may be learned from this story? Why is the +eagle called the bird of our country? What is meant by the +expression "finding the coast clear"? What is the advantage of +setting one's mark high? Can you think of any other story which +teaches the lesson that one should never yield to +discouragements? + + + +A NEW KIND OF FUN. + +A certain German nobleman provided his son with a tutor whose +duty it was to cultivate the mind. and morals of the youth. + +One day as the tutor and his pupil were taking a walk in the +country, they came to the edge of a wood, where they observed a +half-felled tree, and saw lying by it a pair of wooden shoes. The +day being warm, the workman, resting from his toil, was cooling +his feet in a neighboring brook. The young nobleman, in a spirit +of fun, picked up a few small rounded pebbles and said: "I'll put +these in the old fellow's shoes, and we'll enjoy his grimaces +when he tries to put them on. It will be great fun." + +"Well," said the tutor, "I doubt if you will get much fun out of +that. He must be a poor man. No doubt his lot is a hard one. +Would there be fun in adding to his troubles? I can't help +thinking that if you were to surprise him in a different way, say +by putting a little money in each shoe, you would enjoy his +grimaces better. You have plenty of money. What do you say? Is it +worth trying?" + +The boy who, though mischievous, was very kind-hearted and +generous, caught quickly at the proposal of the tutor, and +slipped a silver coin into each shoe. Then they hid behind a tree +to watch the outcome of their innocent prank. They had not very +long to wait. An elderly man came back to his work--hard work it +was, too hard for a man of his years--and slipped his right foot +into his shoe. + +Feeling something hard in the shoe he withdrew his foot and +looked to see what the object might be, when lo! he discovered +the coin. A look of puzzled amazement came over his sad face, +which made the two watchers chuckle with amusement. He turned the +coin over and over in his hand, and gazed at it in astonishment. + +As he looked at it he felt with his foot for the other shoe, and +slipped that one on. To his great surprise that shoe, too, held a +coin. Holding up both silver pieces, and staring at them in +silence, he made a most impressive picture, which was by no means +lost upon the two beholders. Then suddenly clasping his hands +together he fell upon his knees and gave thanks for the blessing +that had come upon him. + +As he prayed, the boy and his tutor learned from his words that +his poor wife was sick and helpless at hone, and that his +orphaned grandchildren were suffering for food, while he, old and +feeble, was striving by heavy toil to earn a crust. The old man +invoked the blessing of Heaven upon the unknown but generous soul +who had pitied his poverty--the kind heart, whosesoever it might +be, that could thus beat warm in charity and kindness for the +hungry and the poor. + +"He has gone," said the old man, "without even waiting to be +thanked. But go where he may, far as he may, the earth is not +wide enough but that the blessing of an old man shall seek him +out and find him. The blessing of the poor flies fast," he cried; +"it will overtake him and abide with him to the end of life. + +"May the charity of God and the care of His angels go with him, +keep him from poverty, shield him froln sickness, guard him from +evil, and ever fill his heart with warmth and joy, as he has +filled mine this day! I'll work no more to-day. I'll go home to +my wife and children, and they shall join me in calling for +blessings upon their kind helper." He put on his shoes, +shouldered his ax, and departed. + +Then the two watchers had a little dialogue. + +"Now I call this the best kind of fun," said the tutor. "Why, +boy, what are you sniveling at?" + +"You are sniveling, too," said the boy. + +"Well, then, both of us are sniveling," said the tutor. "So, you +see, fun may lead to sniveling as well as to laughing. Of all the +pleasures of life, those are the most blessed which are expressed +by tears rather than laughter." + +"Come on!" said the boy. + +"Where next?" asked the tutor. + +"Why, to follow him, to be sure. I want to know where they live +and who they are. Do you think I will let his wife be sick and +his grandchildren be hungry if I can help it? I have learned a +new kind of fun, and I want more of it." + +"My dear boy, I don't for a moment think you will stop with one +good joke of this kind. Youth, with a heart like yours, never +does things by halves." + +So they followed the subject of their joke to his home, and the +young nobleman, by means of his well-filled purse, found means to +enjoy much more of his new-found variety of fun. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Tutor, teacher. Grimace, distortion of the face. +Impressive, touching. Invoked, called down. + + + +TWO WAYS OF TELLING A STORY. + +BY HENRY K. OLIVER. + +In one of the most populous cities of New England, a few years +ago, a party of lads, all members of the same school, got up a +grand sleigh ride. The sleigh was a very large one, drawn by six +gray horses. + +On the following day, as the teacher entered the schoolroom, he +found his pupils in high glee, as they chattered about the fun +and frolic of their excursion. In answer to some inquiries, one +of the lads gave him an account of their trip and its various +incidents. + +As he drew near the end of his story, he exclaimed: "Oh, sir! +there was one thing I had almost forgotten. As we were coming +home, we saw ahead of us a queer-looking affair in the road. It +proved to be a rusty old sleigh, fastened behind a covered wagon, +proceeding at a very slow rate, and taking up the whole road. + +"Finding that the owner was not disposed to turn out, we +determined upon a volley of snowballs and a good hurrah. They +produced the right effect, for the crazy machine turned out into +the deep snow, and the skinny old pony started on a full trot. + +"As we passed, some one gave the horse a good crack, which made +him run faster than he ever did before, I'll warrant. + +"With that, an old fellow in the wagon, who was buried up under +an old hat, bawled out, 'Why do you frighten my horse?' 'Why +don't you turn out, then?' says the driver. So we gave him three +rousing cheers more. His horse was frightened again, and ran up +against a loaded wagon, and, I believe, almost capsized the old +creature--and so we left him." + +"Well, boys," replied the teacher, "take your seats, and I will +tell you a story, and all about a sleigh ride, too. Yesterday +afternoon a very venerable old clergyman was on his way from +Boston to Salem, to pass the rest of the winter at the house of +his son. That he might be prepared for journeying in the +following spring he took with him his wagon, and for the winter +his sleigh, which he fastened behind the wagon. + +"His sight and hearing were somewhat blunted by age, and he was +proceeding very slowly; for his horse was old and feeble, like +its owner. He was suddenly disturbed by loud hurrahs from behind, +and by a furious pelting of balls of snow and ice upon the top of +his wagon. + +"In his alarm he dropped his reins, and his horse began to run +away. In the midst of the old man's trouble, there rushed by him, +with loud shouts, a large party of boys, in a sleigh drawn by six +horses. 'Turn out! turn out, old fellow!' 'Give us the road!' +'What will you take for your pony?' 'What's the price of oats, +old man?' were the various cries that met his ears. + +"'Pray, do not frighten my horse!' exclaimed the infirm driver. +'Turn out, then! turn out!' was the answer, which was followed by +repeated cracks and blows front the long whip of the 'grand +sleigh,' with showers of snowballs, and three tremendous hurrahs +from the boys. + +"The terror of the old man and his horse was increased, and the +latter ran away with him, to the great danger of his life. He +contrived, however, to stop his horse just in season prevent his +being dashed against a loaded wagon. A short distance brought him +to the house of his son. That son, boys, is your instructor, and +that 'old fellow' was your teacher's father!" + +When the boys perceived how rude and unkind their conduct +appeared from another point of view, they were very much ashamed +of their thoughtlessness, and most of them had the manliness to +apologize to their teacher for what they had done. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Populous, full of inhabitants. Excursion, a +pleasure trip. Incidents, things that happens, events. Warrant, +to declare with assurance. Capsized, upset. Venerable, deserving +of honor and respect. Blunted, dulled. + +EXERCISES.--Repeat the boy's story of the sleigh ride. The +teacher's story. Were the boys ill-natured or only thoughtless? +Is thoughtlessness any excuse for rudeness or unkindness? + + + +THE BLIND MEN AND THE ELEPHANT. + +BY JOHN G. SAXE. + +It was six men of Indostan, + To learning much inclined, +Who went to see the elephant, + (Though all of them were blind,) +That each by observation + Might satisfy his mind. + +The first approached the elephant, + And, happening to fall +Against his broad and sturdy side, + At once began to bawl +"God bless me! but the elephant + Is very like a wall!" + +The second, feeling of the tusk, + Cried: "Ho! what have we here. +So very round, and smooth, and sharp? + To me 'tis very clear, +This wonder of an elephant + Is very like a spear!" + +The third approached the animal, + And, happening to take +The squirming trunk within his hands, + Thus boldly up he spoke: +"I see," quoth he, "the elephant + Is very like a snake!" + +The fourth reached out his eager hand, + And felt about the knee: +"What most this wondrous beast is like + Is very plain," quoth he; +"'Tis clear enough the elephant + Is very like a tree!" + +The fifth, who chanced to touch the ear, + Said: "E'en the blindest man +Can tell what this resembles most: + Deny the fact who can, +This marvel of an elephant + Is very like a fan!" + +The sixth no sooner had begun + About the beast to grope, +Than, seizing on the swinging tail + That fell within his scope, +"I see," quoth he, "the elephant + Is very like a rope!" + +And so these men of Indostan + Disputed loud and long, +Each in his own opinion + Exceeding stiff and strong, +Though each was partly in the right + And all were in the wrong! + + +DEFINITIONS:--Indostan, Hindostan, a county in Asia now commonly +called India. Quoth, said. + + + +HARRY'S RICHES. + +One day, our little Harry spent the morning with his young +playmate, Johnny Crane, who lived in a fine house, and on Sundays +rode to church in the grandest carriage to be seen in all the +country round. + +When Harry returned home, he said, "Mother, Johnny has money in +both pockets!" + +"Has he, dear?" + +"Yes, ma'am; and he says he could get ever so much more if he +wanted it." + +"Well, now, that's very pleasant for him," I returned cheerfully, +as a reply was plainly expected. "Very pleasant; don't you think +so?" + +"Yes, ma'am; only--" + +"Only what, Harry?" + +"Why, he has a big popgun, and a watch, and a hobbyhorse, and +lots of things." And Harry looked up at my face with a +disconsolate stare. + +"Well, my boy, what of that?" + +"Nothing, mother," and the telltale tears sprang to his eyes, +"only I guess we are very poor, aren't we?" + +"No, indeed, Harry, we are very far from being poor. We are not +so rich as Mr. Crane's family, if that is what you mean." + +"O mother!" insisted the little fellow, "I do think we are very +poor; anyhow, I am!" + +"O Harry!" I exclaimed reproachfully. + +"Yes, ma'am, I am," he sobbed; "I have scarcely anything--I mean +anything that's worth money--except things to eat and wear, and +I'd have to have them anyway." + +"Have to have them?" I echoed, at the same time laying my sewing +upon the table, so that I might reason with him on that point; +"do you not know, my son--" + +Just then Uncle Ben looked up frown the paper he had been +reading: "Harry," said he, "I want to find out something about +eyes; so, if you will let me have yours, I will give you a dollar +apiece for them." + +"For my eyes!" exclaimed Harry, very much astonished. + +"Yes," resumed Uncle Ben, quietly, "for your eyes. I will give +you chloroform, so it will not hurt you in the least, and you +shall have a beautiful glass pair for nothing, to wear in their +place. Come, a dollar apiece, cash down! What do you say? I will +take them out as quick as a wink." + +"Give you my eyes, uncle!" cried Harry, looking wild at the very +thought, "I think not." And the startled little fellow shook his +head defiantly. + +"Well, five, ten, twenty dollars, then." Harry shook his head at +every offer. + +"No, sir! I wouldn't let you have them for a thousand dollars! +What could I do without my eyes? I couldn't see mother, or the +baby, or the flowers, or the horses, or anything," added Harry, +growing warmer and warmer. + +"I will give you two thousand," urged Uncle Ben, taking a roll of +bank notes out of his pocket. Harry, standing at a safe distance, +shouted that he never would do any such thing. + +"Very well," continued the uncle, with a serious air, at the same +time writing something in his notebook, "I can't afford to give +you more than two thousand dollars, so I shall have to do without +your eyes; but," he added, "I will tell you what I will do, I +will give you twenty dollars if you will let me put a few drops +from this bottle in your ears. It will not hurt, but it. will +make you deaf. I want to try some experiments with deafness, you +see. Come quickly, now! Here are the twenty dollars all ready +for you." + +"Make me deaf!" shouted Harry, without even looking at the gold +pieces temptingly displayed upon the table. "I guess you will not +do that, either. Why, I couldn't hear a single word if I were +deaf, could I?" + +"Probably not," replied Uncle Ben. So, of course, Harry refused +again. He would never give up his hearing, he said, "no, not for +three thousand dollars." + +Uncle Ben made another note in his book, and then came out with +large bids for "a right arm," then "left arm," "hands," "feet," +"nose," finally ending with an offer of ten thousand dollars for +"mother," and five thousand for "the baby." + +To all of these offers Harry shook his head, his eyes flashing, +and exclamations of surprise and indignation bursting from his +lips. At last, Uncle Ben said he must give up his experiments, +for Harry's prices were entirely too high. + +"Ha! ha!" laughed the boy, exultingly, and he folded his dimpled +arms and looked as if to say, "I'd like to see the man who could +pay them!" + +"Why, Harry, look here!" exclaimed Uncle Ben, peeping into his +notebook, "here is a big addition sum, I tell you! " He added the +numbers, and they amounted to thirty-two thousand dollars. + +"There, Harry," said Uncle Ben, "don't you think you are foolish +not to accept some of my offers?" "No, sir, I don't," answered +Harry, resolutely. "Then," said Uncle Ben, "you talk of being +poor, and by your own showing you have treasures for which you +will not take thirty-two thousand dollars. What do you say to +that?" + +Harry didn't know exactly what to say. So he blushed for a +second, and just then tears came rolling down his cheeks, and he +threw his chubby arms around my neck. "Mother," he whispered, +"isn't God good to make everybody so rich?" + + +DEFINITIONS:--Disconsolate, filled with grief. Reproachfully, +with censure or reproof. Chloroform, an oily liquid, the vapor of +which causes insensibility. Startled, shocked. Defiantly, +daringly. Afford, to be able to pay for. Experiments, acts +performed to discover some truth. Exclamations, expressions of +surprise, anger, etc. Exultingly, in a triumphant manner. +Treasures, things which are very much valued. + + + +A HAPPY NEW YEAR. + +BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER. + +Coming, coming, coming! + Listen! perhaps you'll hear +Over the snow the bugles blow + To welcome the glad new year. +In the steeple tongues are swinging, +There are merry sleigh bells ringing, +And the people for joy are singing, + It's coming, coming near. + +Flying, sighing, dying, + Going away to-night, +Weary and old, its story told, + The year that was full and bright. +Oh, we are half sorry it's leaving +Good-by has a sound of grieving; +But its work is done and its weaving; + God speed its parting flight! + +Tripping, slipping, skipping, + Like a child in its wooing grace, +With never a tear and never a fear, + And a light in its laughing face; +With hands held out to greet us, +With gay little steps to meet us, +With sweet eyes that entreat us, + The new year comes to its place. + +Coming, coming, coming! + Promising lovely things-- +The gold and the gray of the summer day, + The winter with fleecy-wings; +Promising swift birds glancing, +And the patter of raindrops dancing, +And the sunbeam's arrowy lancing, + Dear gifts the new year brings. + +Coming, coming, coming! + The world is a vision of white; +From the powdered eaves to the sere-brown leaves + That are hidden out of sight. +In the steeple tongues are swinging, +The bells are merrily ringing, +And "Happy New-Year" we're singing, + For the old year goes to-night. + + + +JEANNETTE AND JO. + +BY MARY MAPES DODGE. + +Two girls I know--Jeannette and Jo, + And one if always moping; +The other lassie, come what may, + Is ever bravely hoping. + +Beauty of face and girlish grace + Are theirs, for joy or sorrow; +Jeannette takes brightly every day, +And Jo dreads each to-morrow. + +One early morn they watched the dawn-- + I saw them stand together; +Their whole day's sport, 'twas very plain, + Depended on the weather. + +"'Twill storm! ' cried Jo. Jeannette spoke low, + "Yes, but 'twill soon be over." +And, as she spoke, the sudden shower + Came, beating down the clover. + +"I told you so!" cried angry Jo: + "It always is a-raining!" +Then hid her face in dire despair, + Lamenting and complaining. + +But sweet Jeannette, quite hopeful yet,-- + I tell it to her honor,-- +Looked up and waited till the sun + Came streaming in upon her. + +The broken clouds sailed off in crowds, + Across a sea of glory. +Jeannette and Jo ran, laughing, in-- + Which ends my simple story. + +Joy is divine. Come storm, come shine, + The hopeful are the gladdest; +And doubt and dread, children, believe + Of all things are the saddest. + +In morning's light, let youth be bright; + Take in the sunshine tender; +Then, at the close, shall life's decline +Be full of sunset splendor. + +And ye who fret, try, like Jeannette, + To shun all weak complaining; +And not, like Jo, cry out too soon-- + "It always is a-raining!" + + + +WATSEKA. + +AN INDIAN LEGEND. + +Many years ago there lived in the west a tribe of Indians who +called themselves Illinois. They were not savage and warlike, as +the tribes around them were, but they liked to live in peace, +hunting the deer in the great woods, and taking the fish from the +shallow streams. + +On the bank of a pretty little river that flows into the great +Mississippi a small band of these Indians had built their +wigwams. All along the stream were tall oaks and spreading walnut +trees, with here and there a grove of wild plums or a thicket of +hazel bushes. But only half a mile away began the great prairie, +where there was neither tree nor bush, but only tall grass; and +it stretched like a green sea as far as the eye could reach. + +What there was on the other side of the prairie the Indians did +not know. But they had been told that a fierce race of men lived +there who loved only war. + +"We will live quietly in our own place," they said, "and then +these strangers will not molest us." + +And so for many years they lived, in a careless, happy way by the +side of the pretty river; and few of their young men dared to +wander far from the friendly shelter of the woods. + +One day in summer, when the woods were full of the songs of +birds, and the prairie of the sweet odors of flowers, the +Illinois had a festival under the oaks that shaded their village. +The young people played merry games on the greeIr, while their +fathers and mothers sat in the doors of the wigwams and talked +of the peaceful days that were past. + +All at once a savage yell was heard in the hazel thicket by the +river; then another from the edge of the prairie; and then a +third from the lower end of the village. In a moment all was +terror and confusion. Too well the Illinois knew the meaning of +these cries. The savage strangers from beyond the prairie had +come at last. + +The attack had been so sudden and fierce that the Illinois could +not defend themselves. They scattered and fled far into the woods +on the other side of the little river. Then, one by one, they +came together in a rocky glen where they could hide from danger. +But even there they could hear the yells of their foes, and they +could see the black smoke that rose from their burning wigwams. + +What could they do, now that this ruin had at last come upon +them? The bravest among them were in despair. They threw their +bows upon the ground. The warriors were gloomy and silent. They +said it was useless to fight with foes so strong and fierce. The +women and children wept as though heartbroken. + +But at the very moment when all seemed lost, a young girl stood +up among them. She had been well known in the little village. Her +thoughtful, quiet ways had endeared her to old and young alike. +Her name was Watseka. + +There were no tears in Watseka's eyes as she turned her face +toward the gloomy warriors. All her quietness of manner was gone. +There was no fear in her voice as she spoke. + +"Are you men," she said, "and do you thus give up all hope? Turn +your faces toward the village. Do you see the smoke of our +burning homes? Our enemies are counting the scalps they have +taken. They are eating the deer that you killed yesterday on your +own hunting grounds. And do you stand here and do nothing?" + +Some of the warriors turned their faces toward the burning +village, but no one spoke. + +"Very well," said Watseka. "If you dare not, then I will show you +what can be done. Follow me, women of the Illinois! The strangers +shall not laugh because they have driven us so easily from our +homes. They shall not feed upon the corn that we have raised. We +will show them what the Illinois can do. Follow me!" + +As Watseka spoke, her eyes sparkled with a light which filled +every heart with new courage. With one accord the women and girls +gathered around her. + +"Lead us, Watseka!" they cried. "We will follow you. We are not +afraid." + +They armed themselves with the bows and the hatchets which the +warriors had thrown upon the ground. Those who could find nothing +else, picked up stones and sticks. The boys joined them, their +eyes flashing with eagerness. All felt that Watseka would lead +them to victory. + +Then it was that courage came into the hearts of the warriors. + +"Are we men, and do we let the women and boys thus outdo us?" +they cried. "No, we alone will drive our foes from our home. We +alone will avenge our kinsmen whom they have slain. We will fear +nothing. We will never rest until we have won back all that we +have lost!" + +And so Watseka and the women and boys did not go into battle. But +the warriors of the Illinois in the darkness of the night crept +silently back through the shadows of the wood. While their foes +lay sleepng by the fires of the burning wigwams, they swept down +upon them like a thunderbolt from the clear sky. Their revenge +was swift and terrible. + +And so the Illinois were again at peace, for the fierce warriors +who dwelt on the other side of the prairie dared never molest +them again. And they rebuilt their wigwams by the side of the +pleasant river, and there they lived in comfort for many long +years. Nor did they ever forget how the maiden, Watseka, had +saved them in their hour of greatest need. The story of her +bravery was told and retold a thousand times; the warriors talked +of her beauty; the women praised her goodness; other tribes heard +of her and talked about the hero maiden of the Illinois; and so +long as there were Indians in that western land, the name of +Watseka was remembered and honored. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Molest, harm. Prairie, a treeless plain. Wigwam, an +Indian house. + + + +HARRY AND HIS DOG. + +BY MARY RUSSELL MITFORD. + +"Beg, Frisk, beg," said little Harry, as he sat on an inverted +basket, at his grandmother's door, eating, with great +satisfaction, a porringer of bread and milk. His little sister +Annie sat on the ground opposite to him, now twisting her flowers +into garlands, and now throwing them away. + +"Beg, Frisk, beg!" repeated Harry, holding a bit of bread just +out of the dog s reach; and the obedient Frisk squatted himself +on his hind legs, and held up his fore paws, waiting for master +Harry to give him the tempting morsel. + +The little boy and the little dog were great friends. Frisk loved +him dearly, much better than he did any one else, perhaps, +because he remembered that Harry was his earliest and firmest +friend during a time of great trouble. + +Poor Frisk had come as a stray dog to Milton, the place where +Harry lived. If he could have told his own story, it would +probably have been a very pitiful one, of kicks and cuffs, of +hunger and foul weather. + +Certain it is, he made his appearance at the very door where +Harry was now sitting, in miserable plight, wet, dirty, and half +starved; and there he met Harry, who took a fancy to him, and +Harry's grandmother, who drove him off with a broom. + +Harry, at length, obtained permission for the little dog to +remain as a sort of outdoor pensioner, and fed him with stray +bones and cold potatoes, and such things as he could get for him. +He also provided him with a little basket to sleep in, the very +same which, turned up, afterward served Harry for a seat. + +After a while, having proved his good qualities by barking away a +set of pilferers, who were making an attack on the great pear +tree, he was admitted into the house, and became one of its most +vigilant and valued inmates. He could fetch or carry either by +land or water; would pick up a thimble or a ball of cotton, if +little Annie should happen to drop them; or take Harry's dinner +to school for him with perfect honesty. + +"Beg, Frisk, beg!" said Harry, and gave him, after long waiting, +the expected morsel. Frisk was satisfied, but Harry was not. The +little boy, though a good-humored fellow in the main, had turns +of naughtiness, which were apt to last him all day, and this +promised to prove one of his worst. It was a holidays, and in the +afternoon his cousins, Jane and William, were to come and see him +and Annie; and the pears were to be gathered, and the children +were to have a treat. + +Harry, in his impatience, thought the morning would never be +over. He played such pranks--buffeting Frisk, cutting the curls +off of Annie's doll, and finally breaking his grandmother's +spectacles--that before his visitors arrived, indeed, almost +immediately after dinner, he contrived to be sent to bed in +disgrace. + +Poor Harry! there he lay, rolling and kicking, while Jane, and +William, and Annie were busy gathering the fine, mellow pears. +William was up in the tree, gathering and shaking. Annie and Jane +were catching them in their aprons, or picking them up from the +ground, now piling them in baskets, and now eating the nicest and +ripest, while Frisk was barking gayly among them, as if he were +catching pears too! + +Poor Harry! He could hear all this glee and merriment through the +open window, as he lay in bed. The storm of passion having +subsided, there he lay weeping and disconsolate, a grievous sob +bursting forth every now and then, as he heard the loud peals of +childish laughter, and as he thought how he should have laughed, +and how happy he should have been, had he not forfeited all his +pleasure by his own bad conduct. + +He wondered if Annie would not be so good-natured as to bring him +a pear. All on a sudden, he heard a little foot on the stair, +pitapat, and he thought she was coming. Pitapat came the foot, +nearer and nearer, and at last a small head peeped, half afraid, +through the half-open door. + +But it was not Annie's head; it was Frisk's--poor Frisk, whom +Harry had been teasing all the norning, and who came into the +room wagging his tail, with a great pear in his mouth; and, +jumping upon the bed, he laid it in the little boy's hand. + +Is not Frisk a fine, grateful fellow? and does he not deserve a +share of Harry's breakfast, whether he begs for it or not? And +little Harry will remember from the events of this day that +kindness, even though shown to a dog, will always be rewarded; +and that ill nature and bad temper are connected with nothing but +pain and disgrace. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Inverted, turned upside down. Porringer, a small +metallic dish. Remembered, had not forgotten. Plight, condition. +Pensioner, one who is supported by others. Pilferers, those who +steal little things. Vigilant, watchful. Inmates, those living in +the same house. Holiday, a day of amusement. Buffeting, striking +with the hand. Subsided, become quiet. Forfeited, lost. +Connected, united, have a close relation. + +EXERCISE.--What two lessons may be learned from this story? Is it +a good rule to return kindness for unkindness? Do you think that +Harry's dog brought him the pear because he was really grateful? + + + +LITTLE BOY BLUE.* + +BY EUGENE FIELD. + +The little toy dog is covered with dust, + But sturdy and stanch he stands; +And the little toy soldier is red with rust, + And his musket it molds in his hands. +Time was when the little toy dog was new, + And the soldier was passing fair, +And there was a time when our Little Boy Blue + Kissed them and put them there. + +"Now, don't you go till I come," he said, + "And don't you make any noise!" +So, toddling off to his trundle bed, + He dreamed of the pretty toys: +And, as he was dreaming, an angel song + Awakened our Little Boy Blue-- +Oh, the years are many, the years are long; + But the little toy friends are true. + +Ah, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand, + Each in the same old place, +Awaiting the touch of a little hand, + The smile of a little face; +And they wonder, as waiting these long years thro' + In the dust of that little chair, +What has become of our Little Boy Blue, + Since he kissed them and put them there. + +* From " A Little Book of Western Verse." Copyright, 1889, by +Eugene Field. By permission of Charles Scribner's Sons, +publishers. + + + +IF I WERE A BOY. + +If I were a boy again, and knew what I know now, I would not be +quite so positive in my opinions as I used to be. Boys generally +think that they are very certain about many things. A boy of +fifteen is generally a great deal more sure of what he thinks +he knows than a man of fifty. + +You ask the boy a question and he will probably answer you right +off, with great assurance; he knows all about it. Ask a man of +large experience and ripe wisdom the same question, and he will +say, "Well, there is much to be said about it. I am inclined on +the whole to think so and so, but other intelligent men think +otherwise." + +When I was a small boy, I traveled from central Massachusetts to +western New York, crossing the river at Albany, and going the +rest of the way by canal. On the canal boat a kindly gentleman +was talking to me one day, and I mentioned the fact that I had +crossed the Connecticut River at Albany. How I got it in my head +that it was the Connecticut River, I do not know, for I knew my +geography very well then; but in some unaccountable way I had it +fixed in my mind that the river at Albany was the Connecticut, +and I called it so. + +"Why," said the gentleman, "that is the Hudson River." + +"Oh, no, sir!" I replied, politely but firmly. "You're mistaken. +That is the Connecticut River." + +The gentleman smiled and said no more. I was not much in the +habit, I think, of contradicting my elders; but in this matter I +was perfectly sure that I was right, and so I thought it my duty +to correct the gentleman's geography. I felt rather sorry for him +that he should be so ignorant. One day, after I reached home, I +was looking over my route on the map, and lo! there was Albany +standing on the Hudson River, a hundred miles from the +Connecticut. + +Then I did not feel half so sorry for the gentleman's ignorance +as I did for my own. I never told anybody that story until I +wrote it down on these pages the other day; but I have thought of +it a thousand times, and always with a blush for my boldness. + +Nor was it the only time that I was perfectly sure of things that +really were not so. It is hard for a boy to learn that he may be +mistaken; but, unless he is a fool, he learns it after a while. +The sooner he finds it out, the better for him. + +If I were a boy, I would not think that I and the boys of my time +were an exception to the general rule--a new kind of boys, unlike +all who have lived before, having different feelings and +different ways. To be honest, I must own that I used to think so +myself. I was quite inclined to reject the counsel of my elders +by saying to myself, "That may have been well enough for boys +thirty or fifty years ago, but it isn't the thing for me and my +set of boys." But that was nonsense. The boys of one generation +are not different from the boys of another generation. + +If we say that boyhood lasts fifteen or sixteen years, I have +known three generations of boys, some of them city boys and some +of them country boys, and they are all very much alike--so nearly +alike that the old rules of industry and patience and +perseverance and self-control are as applicable to one generation +as to another. The fact is, that what your fathers and teachers +have found by experience to be good for boys, will be good for +you; and what their experience has taught them will be bad for +boys, will be bad for you. You are just boys, nothing more nor +less. + + +DEFINITIONS:-- Assurance, certainty. Route, road. Generation, +people living at the same time. Applicable, can be applied. + +EXERCISE--Find on the map, Albany, the Hudson River, and the +Connecticut River. + + + +THE TEMPEST. + +BY JAMES T. FIELDS. + +We were crowded in the cabin; + Not a soul would dare to sleep +It was midnight on the waters, + And a storm was on the deep. + +'Tis a fearful thing in winter + To be shattered by the blast, +And to hear the rattling trumpet + Thunder, "Cut away the mast!" + +So we shuddered there in silence, + For the stoutest held his breath, +While the hungry sea was roaring, + And the breakers threatened death. + +And as thus we sat in darkness, + Each one busy in his prayers, +"We are lost!" the captain shouted, + As he staggered down the stairs. + +But his little daughter whispered, + As she took his icy hand, +"Isn't God upon the ocean, + Just the same as on the land?" + +Then we kissed the little maiden, + And we spoke in better cheer; +And we anchored safe in harbor + When the morn was shining clear. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Deep, the ocean. Blast, tempest. Breakers, waves of +the sea broken by rocks. Cheer, state of mind. + + + +THE RIGHT WAY. + +BY FRANK R. STOCKTON. + +"Oh, Andy!" said little Jenny Murdock, "I'm so glad you came +along this way. I can't get over." + +"Can't get over?" said Andrew. "Why what's the matter?" + +"The bridge is gone," said Jenny. "When I came across after +breakfast it was there, and now it's over on the other side, and +how can I get back home?" + +"Why, so it is," said Andrew. "It was all right when I came over +a little while ago, but old Donald pulls it on the other side +every morning after he has driven his cows across, and I don't +think he has any right to do it. I suppose he thinks the bridge +was made for him and his cows." + +"Now I must go down to the big bridge, Andy, and I want you to go +with me. I'm afraid to go through all those dark woods by +myself," said Jenny. + +"But I can't go, Jenny," said Andrew, "it's nearly school time +now." + +Andrew was a Scotch boy, and a fine fellow. He was next to the +head of his school, and he was as good at play as he was at his +book. + +Jenny Murdock, his most particular friend, was a little girl who +lived very near Andrew's home. She had no brothers or sisters, +but Andrew had always been as good as a brother to her; and, +therefore, when she stood by the water's edge that morning, just +ready to burst into tears, she thought all her troubles over when +she saw Andrew coming along the road. + +He had always helped her out of her troubles before, and she saw +no reason why he should not do so now. She had crossed the creek +in search of wild flowers, and when she wished to return had +found the bridge removed, as Andrew supposed, by old Donald +McKenzie, who pastured his cows on this side of the creek. + +This stream was not very wide, nor very deep at its edges, but in +the center it was four or five feet deep; and in the spring the +water ran very swiftly, so that wading across it, either by +cattle or men, was quite a difficult undertaking. As for Jenny, +she could not get across at all without a bridge, and there was +none nearer than the wagon bridge, a mile and a half below. + +"You will go with me, Andy, won't you?" said the little girl. + +"And be late to school?" said he. "I have not been late yet, you +know, Jenny." + +"Perhaps Dominie Black will think you have been sick or had to +mind the cows," said Jenny. + +"He won't think so unless I tell him," said Andrew, "and you know +I won't do that." + +"If we were to run all the way, would you be too late?" said +Jenny. + +"If we were to run all the way? I should not get to school till +after copy time. I expect every minute to hear the school bell +ring," said Andrew. + +"But what can I do, then?" said poor little Jenny. "I can't wait +here till school's out, and I don't want to go up to the +schoolhouse, for all the boys to laugh at me." + +"No," said Andrew, reflecting very seriously, "I must take you +home some way or other. It won't do to leave you here, and, no +matter where you might stay, your mother would be very much +troubled about you." + +"Yes," said Jenny, "she would think I was drowned." + +Time pressed, and Jenny's countenance became more and more +overcast, but Andrew could think of no way in which he could take +the little girl home without being late and losing his standing +in the school. + +It was impossible to get her across the stream at any place +nearer than the "big bridge"; he would not take her that way, and +make up a false story to account for his lateness at school, and +he could not leave her alone or take her with him. + +What was to be done? While several absurd and impracticable plans +were passing through his brain, the school bell began to ring, +and he must start immediately to reach the schoolhouse in time. + +And now his anxiety and perplexity became more intense than ever; +and Jenny, looking up into his troubled countenance, began to +cry. + +Andrew, who had never before failed to be at the school door +before the first tap of the bell, began to despair. Was there +nothing to be done? + +Yes! a happy thought passed through his mind. How strange that he +should not have thought of it before! He would ask Dominie Black +to let him take Jennie home. What could be more sensible and +straightforward than such a plan? + +Of course, the good old schoolmaster gave Andrew the desired +permission, and everything ended happily. But the best thing +about the whole affair was the lesson that the young Scotch boy +learned that day. + +The lesson was this: when we are puzzling our brains with plans +to help ourselves out of trouble, let us always stop a moment in +our planning, and try to think if there is not some simple way +out of the difficulty, which shall be in every respect perfectly +right. If we do this, we shall probably find a way more easy and +satisfactory than any which we can devise. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Particular, not ordinary, worthy of special +attention, chief. Dominie, the Scotch name for schoolmaster. +Reflecting, thinking earnestly. Overcast, covered with gloom. +Account, to state the reasons. Impracticable, not possible. +Anxiety, care, trouble of mind. Devise, plan, contrive. + +EXERCISES. Why could not Jenny cross the stream? Would it have +been right for Andrew to have told an untruth even to help Jenny +out of trouble? What did he finally do? What does this lesson +teach us to do in case of trouble? + + + +AN ADVENTURE WITH WOLVES. + +Some forty years ago I passed the winter in the wilderness of +northern Maine. I was passionately fond of skating, and the +numerous lakes and rivers, frozen by the intense cold, offered an +ample field to the lover of this pastime. + +Sometimes my skating excursions were made by moonlight; and it +was on such an occasion that I met with an adventure which even +now I cannot recall without a thrill of horror. + +I had left our cabin one evening just before dusk, with the +intention of skating a short distance up the Kennebec, which +glided directly before the door. The night was beautifully clear +with the light of the full moon and millions of stars. Light also +came glinting from ice and snow-wreath and incrusted branches, as +the eye followed for miles the broad gleam of the river, that +like a jeweled zone swept between the mighty forests that +bordered its banks. + +And yet all was still. The cold seemed to have frozen tree, air, +water, and every living thing. Even the ringing of my skates +echoed back from the hill with a startling clearness; and the +crackle of the ice, as I passed over it in my course, seemed to +follow the tide of the river with lightning speed. + +I had gone up the river nearly two miles, when, coming to a +little stream which flows into the larger, I turned into it to +explore its course. Fir and hemlock of a century's growth met +overhead, and formed an archway radiant with frost-work. All was +dark within; but I was young and fearless, and I laughed and +shouted with excitement and joy. + +My wild hurrah rang through the silent woods, and I stood +listening to the echoes until all was hushed. Suddenly a sound +arose,--it seemed to come from beneath the ice. It was low and +tremulous at first, but it ended in one long wild howl. + +I was appalled. Never before had such a sound met my ears. +Presently I heard the brushwood on shore crash as though from the +tread of some animal. The blood rushed to my forehead; my +energies returned, and I looked around me for some means of +escape. + +The moon shone through the opening at the mouth of the creek by +which I had entered the forest; and, considering this the best +way of escape, I darted toward it like an arrow. It was hardly a +hundred yards distant, and the swallow could scarcely have +excelled me in flight; yet, as I turned my eyes to the shore, I +could see several dark objects dashing through the brushwood at a +pace nearly double in speed to my own. By their great speed, and +the short yells which they occasionally gave, I knew at once that +these were the much-dreaded gray wolves. + +The bushes that skirted the shore now seemed to rush past with +the velocity of lightning, as I dashed on in my flight to pass +the narrow opening. The outlet was nearly gained; a few seconds +more, and I would be comparatively safe. But in a moment my +pursuers appeared on the bank above me, which here rose to the +height of ten or twelve feet. There was no time for thought; I +bent my head, and dashed wildly forward. The wolves sprang, but, +miscalculating my speed, they fell behind, as I glided out upon +the river! + +I turned toward home. The light flakes of snow spun from the iron +of my skates, and I was some distance from my pursuers, when +their fierce howl told me they were still in hot pursuit. I did +not look back; I did not feel afraid, or sorry, or glad; one +thought of home, of the bright faces awaiting my return, and of +their tears if they never should see me,--and then all the +energies of body and mind were exerted for escape. + +I was perfectly at home on the ice. Many were the days that I had +spent on my good skates, never thinking that they would one day +prove my only means of safety. + +Every half-minute a furious yelp from my fierce attendants made +me but too certain that they were in close pursuit. Nearer and +nearer they came. At last I heard their feet pattering on the +ice; I even felt their very breath, and heard their snuffing +scent! Every nerve and muscle in my frame was strained to the +utmost. + +The trees along the shore seemed to dance in an uncertain light, +my brain turned with my own breathless speed, my pursuers hissed +forth their breath with a sound truly horrible, when all at once +an involuntary motion on my part turned me out of my course. + +The wolves close behind, unable to stop, and as unable to turn on +smooth ice, slipped and fell, still going on far ahead. Their +tongues were lolling out, their white tusks were gleaming from +their bloody mouths, their dark shaggy breasts were flecked with +foam; and as they passed me their eyes glared, and they howled +with fury. + +The thought flashed on my mind that by turning aside whenever +they came too near I might avoid them; for, owing to the +formation of their feet, they are unable to run on ice except in +a straight line. I immediately acted upon this plan, but the +wolves having regained their feet sprang directly toward me. + +The race was renewed for twenty yards up the stream; they were +almost close at my back, when I glided round and dashed directly +past them. A fierce yell greeted this movement, and the wolves, +slipping on their haunches, again slid onward, presenting a +perfect picture of helplessness and disappointed rage. Thus I +gained nearly a hundred yards at each turning. This was repeated +two or three times, the baffled animals becoming every moment +more and more excited. + +At one time, by delaying my turning too long, my bloodthirsty +antagonists came so near that they threw their white foam over my +coat as they sprang to seize me, and their teeth clashed together +like the spring of a fox-trap. Had my skates failed for one +instant, had I tripped on a stick, or had my foot been caught in +a fissure, the story I am now telling would never have been told. + +I thought over all the chances. I knew where they would first +seize me if I fell. I thought how long it would be before I died, +and then of the search for my body: for oh, how fast man's mind +traces out all the dread colors of death's picture only those who +have been near the grim original can tell! + +At last I came opposite the cabin, and my hounds--I knew their +deep voices--roused by the noise, bayed furiously from their +kennels. I heard their chains rattle--how I wished they would +break them!--then I should have had protectors to match the +fiercest dwellers of the forest. The wolves, taking the hint +conveyed by the dogs, stopped in their mad career, and after a +few moments turned and fled. + +I watched them until their forms disappeared over a neighboring +hill; then, taking off my skates, I wended my way to the cabin +with feelings which may be better imagined than described. But +even yet I never see a broad sheet of ice by moonlight without +thinking of that snuffing breath, and those ferocious beasts that +followed me so closely down that frozen river. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Glinting, glancing, glittering. Zone, belt. +Velocity, swiftness. Fissure, crack. + +EXERCISE.--Where is the Kennebec River? In what part of our +country is Maine? + + + +THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. + +BY SAMUEL WOODWORTH. + +How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, + When fond recollection presents them to view! +The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wildwood, + And every loved spot which my infancy knew; +The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it: + The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell: +The cot of my father, the dairy house nigh it, + And e'en the rude bucket which hung in the well: +The old oaken bucket, the ironbound bucket, + The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well. + +That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure; + For often, at noon, when returned from the field, +I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, + The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. +How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing, + And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell; +Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, + And dripping with coolness it rose from the well: +The old oaken bucket, the ironbound bucket, + The moss-covered bucket arose from the well. + +How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it, + As poised on the curb, it inclined to my lips! +Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it, + Though filled with the nectar which Jupiter sips; +And now, far removed from thy loved situation, + The tear of regret will intrusively swell, +As fancy reverts to my father's plantation, + And sighs for the bucket which hangs in the well: +The old oaken bucket, the ironbound bucket, + The moss-covered bucket, which hangs in the well. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Cataract, a great fall of water. Overflowing, +running over. Exquisite, exceeding, extreme. Poised, balanced. +Goblet, a kind of cup or drinking vessel. Nectar, the drink of +the gods. Intrusively, without right or welcome. Reverts, +returns. + +EXERCISE.--Who was the author of "The Old Oaken Bucket"? What +does the poem describe? and what feeling does it express? + + + +THE FARMER AND THE FOX. + +By JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE. + +A farmer, whose poultry-yard had suffered severely from the +foxes, succeeded at last in catching one in a trap. "Ah, you +rascal!" said he, as he saw him struggling, "I'll teach you to +steal my fat geese!--you shall hang on the tree yonder, and your +brothers shall see what comes of thieving." + +The farmer was twisting a halter to do what he threatened, when +the fox, whose tongue had helped him in hard pinches before, +thought there could be no harm in trying whether it might not do +him one more good turn. + +"You will hang me," he said, "to frighten my brother foxes. On +the word of a fox, they won't care; they'll come and look at me, +but they will dine at your expense before they go home again." + +"Then I shall hang you for yourself, as a rogue and a rascal," +said the farmer. + +"I am only what nature chose to make me," the fox answered. "I +didn't make myself." + +"You stole my geese," said the man. + +"Why did nature make me like geese, then?" said the fox. "Live +and let live; give me my share, and I won't touch yours." + +"I don't understand your fine talk," answered the farmer; "but I +know that you are a thief, and that you deserve to be hanged." + +"His head is too thick to let me catch him so," thought the fox; +"I wonder if his heart is any softer! You are taking away the +life of a fellow-creature," he said; "that's a +responsibility--life is a curious thing, and who knows what comes +after it? + +"You say I am a rogue--I say I am not; but at any rate, I ought +not to be hanged--for if I am not, I don't deserve it; and if I +am, you should give me time to repent! I have him now," thought +the fox; "let him. get out if he can." + +"Why, what would you have me do with you?" said the man. + +"My notion is that you should let me go, and give me a lamb, or +goose or two, every month, and then I could live without +stealing; but perhaps you know better; my education may have been +neglected; you should shut me up, and take care of me, and teach +me. Who knows but I may turn into a dog? Stranger things than +this have happened." + +"Very pretty," said the farmer; "we have dogs enough, and more, +too, than we can take care of, without you. No, no, Master Fox, I +have caught you, and I am determined that you shall swing. There +will be one rogue less in the world, anyhow." + +"It is mere hate and unchristian vengeance," said the fox. + +"No, friend," the farmer answered; "I don't hate you, and I don't +want to revenge myself on you; but you and I can't get on +together, and I think I am of more importance in this world than +you. If nettles and thistles grow in my cabbage garden, I don't +try to persuade them to grow into cabbages. I just dig them up. + +"I don't hate them; on the contrary, I feel a sense of pity for +them. But I feel somehow that they mustn't hinder me with my +cabbages, and that I must put them away; and so, my poor friend, +I am sorry for you, but I am afraid you must swing." + + + +HIAWATHA'S CHILDHOOD. + +BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. + +By the shores of Gitche Gumee, +By the shining Big-Sea-Water, +Stood the wigwam of Nokomis, +Daughter of the moon, Nokomis. +Dark behind it rose the forest, +Rose the black and gloomy pine trees, +Rose the firs with cones upon them. +Bright before it beat the water, +Beat the clear and sunny water, +Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water. + + There the wrinkled old Nokomis +Nursed the little Hiawatha, +Rocked him in his linden cradle, +Bedded soft in moss and rushes, +Safely bound with reindeer sinews; +Stilled his fretful wail by saying, +"Hush! the Naked Bear will hear thee!" +Lulled him into slumber, singing, +"Ewa-yea! my little owlet! +Who is this that lights the wigwam? +With his great eyes lights the wigwam? +Ewa-yea! my little owlet!" + + Many things Nokomis taught him +Of the stars that shine in heaven; +Showed him Ishkoodah, the comet, +Ishkoodah with fiery tresses; +Showed the Death-Dance of the spirits, +Warriors with their plumes and war clubs, +Flaring far away to northward +In the frosty nights of winter; +Showed the broad white road in heaven, +Pathway of the ghosts, the shadows, +Running straight across the heavens, +Crowded with the ghosts, the shadows. + + At the door on summer evenings +Sat the little Hiawatha; +Heard the whispering of the pine trees, +Heard the lapping of the waters, +Sounds of music, words of wonder; +"Minne-wawa" said the pine trees, +"Mudway-ashka!" said the water. + + Saw the firefly, Wah-wah-taysee, +Flitting through the dusk of evening, +With the twinkle of its candle +Lighting up the brakes and bushes, +And he sang the song of children, +Sang the song Nokomis taught him: + "Wah-wah-taysee, little firefly, + Little, flitting, white-fire insect, + Little, dancing, white-fire creature, + Light me with your little candle, + Ere upon my bed I lay me, + Ere in sleep I close my eyelids!" + + Saw the moon rise from the water, +Rippling, rounding from the water, +Saw the flecks and shadows on it, +Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis?" +And the good Nokomis answered: +"Once a warrior, very angry, +Seized his grandmother and threw her +Up into the sky at midnight; +Right against the moon he threw her. +'Tis her body that you see there." + + Saw the rainbow in the heaven, +In the eastern sky, the rainbow, +Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis?" +And the good Nokomis answered: +"'Tis the heaven of flowers you see there; +All the wild flowers of the forest, +All the lilies of the prairie, +When on earth they fade and perish, +Blossom in that heaven above us." + + When he heard the owls at midnight, +Hooting, laughing, in the forest, +"What is that?" he cried in terror, +"What is that," he said, "Nokomis?" +And the good Nokomis answered. +"That is but the owl and owlet, +Talking in their native language, +Talking, scolding, at each other." + + Then the little Hiawatha +Learned of every bird its language, +Learned their names and all their secrets, +How they built their nests in summer, +Where they hid themselves in winter, +Talked with them whene'er he met them, +Called them "Hiawatha's Chickens." + + Of all beasts he learned the language, +Learned their names and all their secrets, +How the beavers built their lodges. +Where the squirrels hid their acorns, +How the reindeer ran so swiftly, +Why the rabbit was so timid, +Talked with them whene'er he met them, +Called them "Hiawatha's Brothers." + + Then Iagoo the great boaster, +He the marvelous story-teller, +He the traveler and the talker, +He the friend of old Nokomis, +Made a bow for Hiawatha; +From a branch of ash he made it, +From an oak bough made the arrows, +Tipped with flint, and winged with feathers, +And the cord he made of deerskin. + + Then he said to Hiawatha: +"Go, my son, into the forest, +Where the red deer herd together, +Kill for us a famous roebuck, +Kill for us a deer with antlers!" + + Forth into the forest straightway +All alone walked Hiawatha +Proudly, with his bow and arrows; +And the birds sang round him, o'er him +"Do not shoot us, Hiawatha!" +Sang the robin, sang the bluebird, +"Do not shoot us, Hiawatha!" + + And the rabbit from his pathway +Leaped aside, and at a distance +Sat erect upon his haunches, +Half in fear and half in frolic, +Saying to the little hunter, +"Do not shoot me, Hiawatha!" + + But he heeded not, nor heard them, +For his thoughts were with the red deer; +On their tracks his eyes were fastened, +Leading downward to the river, +To the ford across the river, +And as one in slumber walked he. + + Hidden in the alder bushes, +There he waited till the deer came, +Till he saw two antlers lifted, +Saw two eyes look from the thicket, +Saw two nostrils point to windward, +And a deer came down the pathway, +Flecked with leafy light and shadow. +And his heart within him fluttered +Trembled like the leaves above him, +Like the birch-leaf palpitated, +As the deer came down the pathway. + + Then, upon one knee uprising, +Hiawatha aimed an arrow; +Scarce a twig moved with his motion, +Scarce a leaf was stirred or rustled, +But the wary roebuck darted, +Stamped with all his hoofs together, +Listened with one foot uplifted, +Leaped as if to meet the arrow; +Ah! the singing, fatal arrow, +Like a wasp it buzzed, and stung him. + + Dead he lay there in the forest, +By the ford across the river; +Beat his timid heart no longer; +But the heart of Hiawatha +Throbbed and shouted and exulted, +As he bore the red deer homeward. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Sinews, tendons. Tresses, long, flowing hair. +Ghosts, spirits. Lodges, huts, dwellings. Wigwam, an Indian hut +or dwelling. Antlers, the horns of the deer. Palpitated, +fluttered, trembled. Fatal, causing death. + + + +AT RUGBY SCHOOL. + +BY THOMAS HUGHES. + +The little schoolboys went quietly to their own beds, and began +undressing and talking to one another in whispers: while the +elder, amongst whom was Tom, sat chatting about on one another's +beds, with their jackets and waistcoats off. + +Poor little Arthur was overwhelmed with the novelty of his +position. The idea of sleeping in the room with strange boys had +clearly never crossed his mind before, and was as painful as it +was strange to him. He could hardly bear to take his jacket +off; however, presently, with an effort, off it came, and then he +paused and looked at Tom, who was sitting at the bottom of his +bed, talking and laughing. + +"Please, Brown," he whispered, "may I wash my face and hands?" + +"Of course, if you like," said Tom, staring: "that's your +wash-hand stand under the window, second from your bed. You'll +have to go down for more water in the morning if you use it all." + +And on he went with his talk, while Arthur stole timidly from +between the beds out to his wash-hand stand, and began his +ablutions, thereby drawing for a moment on himself the attention +of the room. + +On went the talk and laughter. Arthur finished his washing and +undressing, and put on his nightgown. He then looked round more +nervously than ever. Two or three of the little boys were already +in bed, sitting up with their chins on their knees. The light +burned clear, the noise went on. + +It was a trying moment for the poor, little, lonely boy; however, +this time he did not ask Tom what he might or might not do, but +dropped on his knees by his bedside, as he had done every day +from his childhood, to open his heart to Him who heareth the +cry and beareth the sorrows of the tender child, and the strong +man in agony. + +Tom was sitting at the bottom of his bed unlacing his boots, so +that his back was toward Arthur, and he did not see what had +happened, and looked up in wonder at the sudden silence. Then two +or three boys laughed and sneered, and a big, brutal fellow, +who was standing in the middle of the room, picked up a slipper +and shied it at the kneeling boy, calling him a sniveling young +shaver. + +Then Tom saw the whole, and the next moment the boot he had just +pulled off flew straight at the head of the bully, who had just +time to throw up his arm and catch it on his elbow. "Brown, you +rascal! What do you mean by that?" roared he, stamping with +pain." + +"Never mind what I mean," said Tom, stepping on to the floor, +every drop of blood in his body tingling: "if any fellow wants +the other boot, he knows how to get it." + +What would have been the result is doubtful, for at this moment +the sixth-form boy came in, and not another word could be said. +Tom and the rest rushed into bed and finished their unrobing +there, and the old janitor had put out the candle in another +minute, and toddled on to the next room, shutting the door with +his usual, "Good night, gen'l'm'n." + +There were many boys in the room by whom that little scene was +taken to heart before they slept. But sleep seemed to have +deserted the pillow of poor Tom. For some time his excitement and +the flood of memories which chased one another through his +brain, kept him from thinking or resolving. His head throbbed, +his heart leapt, and he could hardly keep himself from springing +out of bed and rushing about the room. + +Then the thought of his own mother came across him, and the +promise he had made at her knee, years ago, never to forget to +kneel by his bedside and give himself up to his Father before he +laid his head on the pillow, from which it might never rise; +and he lay down gently, and cried as if his heart would break. He +was only fourteen years old. + +It was no light act of courage in those days for a little fellow +to say his prayers publicly, even at Rugby. A few years later, +when Arnold's manly piety had begun to leaven the school, the +tables turned; before he died, in the Schoolhouse at least, and I +believe in the other houses, the rule was the other way. + +But poor Tom had come to school in other times. The first few +nights after he came he did not kneel down because of the noise, +but sat up in bed till the candle was out, and then stole out and +said his prayers, in fear lest some one should find him out. So +did many another poor little fellow. + +Then he began to think that he might just as well say his prayers +in bed, and then that is did not matter whether he was kneeling, +or sitting, or lying down. And so it had come to pass with Tom, +as with all who will not confess their Lord before men; and for +the last year he had probably not said his prayers in earnest a +dozen times. + +Poor Tom! the first and bitterest feeling, which was like to +break his heart, was the sense of his own cowardice. The vice of +all others which he loathed was brought in and burned in on his +own soul. He had lied to his mother, to his conscience, to his +God. How could he bear it? And then the poor, little, weak boy, +whom he had pitied and almost scorned for his weakness, had done +that which he, braggart as he was, dared not do. + +The first dawn of comfort came to him in vowing to himself that +he would stand by that boy through thick and thin, and cheer him, +and help him, and bear his burdens, for the good deed done that +night. Then he resolved to write home next day and tell his +mother all, and what a coward her son had been. And then peace +came to him as he resolved, lastly, to bear his testimony next +morning. + +The morning would be harder than the night to begin with, but he +felt that he could not afford to let one chance slip. Several +times he faltered, for the Devil showed him, first, all his old +friends calling him "Saint," and "Squaretoes," and a dozen hard +names, and whispered to him that his motives would be +misunderstood, and he would be left alone with the new boy; +whereas, it was his duty to keep all means of influence, that he +might do good to the largest number. + +And then came the more subtle temptation, "shall I not be showing +myself braver than others by doing this? Have I any right to +begin it now? Ought I not rather to pray in my own study, letting +other boys know that I do so, and trying to lead them to it, +while in public, at least, I should go on as I have done?" +However, his good angel was too strong that night, and he turned +on his side and slept, tired of trying to reason, but resolved to +follow the impulse which had been so strong, and in which he had +found peace. + +Next morning he was up and washed and dressed, all but his jacket +and waistcoat, just as the ten minutes' bell began to ring, and +then in the face of the whole room he knelt down to pray. Not +five words could he say,--the bell mocked him; he was listening +for every whisper in the room,--what were they all thinking of +him? + +He was ashamed to go on kneeling, ashamed to rise from his knees. +At last, as it were from his inmost heart, a still, small voice +seemed to breathe forth the words of the publican, "God be +merciful to me a sinner!" He repeated them over and over, +and rose from his knees comforted and humbled, and ready to face +the whole world. + +It was not needed: two other boys besides Arthur had already +followed his example, and he went down to the great school with a +glimmering of another lesson in his heart,--the lesson that he +who has conquered his own coward spirit has conquered the whole +outward world; and also that however we may fancy ourselves alone +on the side of good, the King and Lord of men is nowhere without +his witnesses. + +He found, too, how greatly he had exaggerated the effect to be +produced by his act. For a few nights there was a sneer or a +laugh when he knelt down, but this passed off soon, and one by +one all the other boys but three or four followed the lead. + +--Adapted from "School Days at Rugby." + + +DEFINITIONS:--Waistcoat, a vest. Overwhelmed, overcome, cast +down. Novelty, newness. Ablution, the act of washing. Sneered, +showed contempt. Bully, a noisy, blustering fellow, more insolent +than courageous. Tingling, having a thrilling feeling. Leaven, to +make a general change, to imbue. Loathed, hated, detested. +Braggart, a boaster. Vowing, making a solemn promise to God. +Testimony, open declaration. Faltered, hesitated. Motive, that +which causes action, cause, reason. Subtle, artful, cunning. + +NOTES.--"Rugby" the scene of this story, is a celebrated +grammar school which was established at the town of Rugby, +England, in 1667. + +Sixth-form boy. The school was graded into six classes +or "forms," and the boys of the highest, or sixth, form were +expected to keep the smaller boys under them in order. + + + +SOMEBODY'S DARLING. + +BY MARIA LA COSTE. + +Into a ward of the whitewashed halls, + Where the dead and dying lay, +Wounded by bayonets, shells, and balls, + Somebody's darling was borne one day; + +Somebody's darling, so young and brave, + Wearing yet on his pale, sweet face, +Soon to be hid by the dust of the grave, + + The lingering light of his boyhood's grace. + +Matted and damp are the curls of gold, + Kissing the snow of that fair young brow; +Pale are the lips of delicate mold + Somebody's darling is dying now. + +Back from his beautiful, blue-veined brow, + Brush all the wandering waves of gold; +Cross his hands, on his bosom now; + Somebody's darling is still and cold. + +Kiss him once for somebody's sake, + Murmur a prayer soft and low; +One bright curl from its fair mates take; + They were somebody's pride, you know; + +Somebody's hand has rested there; + Was it a mother's, soft and white? +And have the lips of a sister fair + Been baptized in the waves of light? + +God knows best! he was somebody's love. + Somebody's heart enshrined him there; +Somebody wafted his name above, + Night and morn, on the wings of prayer. + +Somebody wept when he marched away, + Looking so handsome, brave, and grand; +Somebody's kiss on his forehead lay; + Somebody clung to his parting hand. + +Somebody's watching and waiting for him, + Yearning to hold him again to her heart; +And there he lies, with his blue eyes dim, + And the smiling, childlike lips apart. + +Tenderly bury the fair young dead, + Pausing to drop on his grave a tear; +Carve on the wooden slab at his head, + "Somebody's darling slumbers here." + + +DEFINITIONS:--Bayonet, a short, pointed iron weapon, fitted to +the muzzle of a gun. Darling, one dearly loved. Lingering, +protracted. Matted, twisted together. Delicate, soft and fair. +Mold, shape. Wandering, straying. Enshrined, cherished. Wafted, +caused to float. Yearning, being eager, longing. Tenderly, +gently, kindly. + + + +THE CAPTIVE. + +BY JOHN R. MUSICK. + +There is no more beautiful and thrilling tale of early pioneer +days than the story of Helen Patterson. She was born in Kentucky; +but while she was still a child her parents removed to St. Louis +County, Missouri, and lived for a time in a settlement called +Cold Water, which is in St. Ferdinand township. About the year +1808 or 1809, her father took his family to the St. Charles +district, and settled only a few miles from the home of the +veteran backwoodsman, Daniel Boone. + +At the time of this last removal, Helen was about eighteen years +of age. She was a very religious girl, and had been taught to +believe that whatever she prayed for would be granted. + +Shortly after the family had settled in their new home, bands of +prowling savages began to roam about the neighborhood. The +Indians would plunder the cabins of the settlers during their +absence, and drive away their cattle, horses, and hogs. + +One day business called all the Patterson family to the village, +except Helen. She was busily engaged in spinning, when the house +was surrounded by nine Indians. Resistance was useless. She did +not attempt to escape or even cry out for help; for one of the +savages who spoke English gave her to understand that she would +be killed if she did so. + +She was told that she must follow the Indians. They took such +things as they could conveniently carry, and with their captive +set off on foot through the forest, in a northwestern direction. +The shrewd girl had brought a ball of yarn with her, and from +this she occasionally broke off a bit and dropped it at the side +of the path, as a guide to her father and friends, who she knew +would soon be in pursuit. + +This came very near being fatal to Helen, for one of the Indians +observed what she was doing, and raised his hatchet to brain her. +The others interceded, but the ball of yarn was taken from her, +and she was closely watched lest she might resort to some other +device for marking a trail. + +It was early in the morning when Helen was captured. Her parents +were expected to return to the cabin by noon, and she reasoned +that they would be in pursuit before the Indians had gone very +far. As the savages were on foot, and her father would no doubt +follow them on horseback, he might overtake them before dark. The +uneasiness expressed by her captors during the afternoon +encouraged her in the belief that her friends were in pursuit. + +A little before sunset, two of the Indians went back to +reconnoiter, and the other seven, with the captive, continued on +in the forest. Shortly after sunset, the two Indians who had +fallen behind joined the others, and all held a short +consultation, which the white girl could not understand. + +The conference lasted but a few moments, and then the savages +hastened forward with Helen to a creek, where the banks were +sloping, and the water shallow enough for them to wade the +stream. By the time they had crossed, it was quite dark. The +night was cloudy, and distant thunder could occasionally be +heard. + +The Indians hurried their captive to a place half a mile from the +ford, and there tied her with strips of deerskin to one of the +low branches of an elm. Her hands were extended above her head, +and her wrists were crossed and tied so tightly that she found it +impossible to release them. When they had secured her to their +own satisfaction, the Indians left her, assuring her that they +were going back to the ford to shoot her father and his +companions as they crossed it. + +Helen was almost frantic with fear and grief. Added to the +uncertainty of her own fate was the knowledge that her father and +friends were marching right into an Indian ambuscade. + +In the midst of her trouble, she did not forget her pious +teaching. She prayed God to send down his angels and release her. +But no angel came. In her distress, the rumbling thunders in the +distance were unheard, and she hardly noticed the shower until +she was drenched to the skin. + +The rain thoroughly wet the strips of deerskin with which she was +tied, and as they stretched she almost unconsciously slipped her +hands from them. Her prayer had been answered by the rain. She +hastily untied her feet, and sped away toward the creek. Guided +by the lightning's friendly glare, she crossed the stream half a +mile above the ford, and hastened to meet her father and friends. + +At every flash of lightning she strained her eyes, hoping to +catch sight of them. At last moving forms were seen in the +distance, but they were too far away for her to determine whether +they were white men or Indians. Crouching down at the root of a +tree by the path, she waited until they were within a few rods of +her, and then cried in a low voice,"Father! Father!" + +"That is Helen," said Mr. Patterson. + +She bounded to her feet, and in a moment was at his side, telling +him how she had escaped. The rescuing party was composed of her +father and two brothers, a neighbor named Shultz, and Nathan and +Daniel M. Boone, sons of the great pioneer, Daniel Boone. + +She told them where the Indians were lying in ambush, and the +frontiersmen decided to surprise them. They crossed the creek on +a log, and stole down to the ford, but the Indians were gone. No +doubt the savages had discovered the escape of the prisoner, and, +knowing that their plan to surprise the white men had failed, +became frightened and fled. + +Helen Patterson always believed it was her prayers that saved her +father, her brothers, and herself in that trying hour. +--From "Stories of Missouri." + + +DEFINITIONS:--Thrilling, exciting. Veteran, long experienced. +Shrewd, artful, cunning. Interceded, stepped in between, +prevented. Trail, pathway. + + + +THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. + +BY FRANCIS SCOTT KEY. + +Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, + What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming, +Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro'the perilous fight, + O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming? +And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, + Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. +Oh, say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave, + O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? + +On the shore dimly seen through the mist of the deep, + Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, +What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, + As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses? +Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam, + In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream: +'Tis the star-spangled banner: oh, long may wave + O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave! + +And where is that band who so vauntingly swore, + That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion, +A home and a country should leave us no more? + Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. +No refuge could save the hireling and slave + From the terror of night or the gloom of the grave: +And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave + O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. + +Oh, thus be it ever when freemen shall stand + Between their loved homes and wild war's desolation; +Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land + Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation! +Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, + And this be our motto: "In God is our trust!" +And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave + O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. + +DEFINITIONS:--Hailed, greeted. Perilous, full of danger. +Ramparts, the walls of a fortification. Bombs, shells fired from +mortars. Haughty, overbearing. Fitfully, by starts. Discloses, +reveals to sight. Havoc, destruction. + +NOTE.--This song was composed in September, 1814, at the time of +the bombardment of Fort McHenry, near Baltimore, by the British. + + + +OUR NATIONAL BANNER. + +BY EDWARD EVERETT. + +All hail to our glorious ensign! courage to the heart and +strength to the hand, to which, in all time, it shall be +intrusted! May it ever wave first in honor, in unsullied glory +and patriotic hope, on the dome of the Capitol, on the country's +stronghold, on the tented plain, on the wave-rocked topmast. + +Wheresoever, on the earth's surface, the eye of the American +shall behold it, may he have reason to bless it! On whatsoever +spot it is planted, there may freedom have a foothold, humanity a +brave champion, and religion an altar. Though stained with blood +in a righteous cause, may it never, in any cause, be stained with +shame. + +Alike when its gorgeous folds shall wanton in lazy holiday +triumphs on the summer breeze, and its tattered fragments be +dimly seen through the clouds of war, may it be the joy and pride +of the American heart. First raised in the cause of right and +liberty, in that cause alone may it forever spread out its +streaming blazonry to the battle and the storm. Having been borne +victoriously across a mighty continent, and floating in triumph +on every sea, may virtue, and freedom, and peace, forever follow +where it leads the way! + + + +BURNING THE FALLOW. + +BY SUSANNA MOODIE. + +The day was sultry, and toward noon a strong wind sprang up that +roared in the pine tops like the dashing of distant billows, but +without in the least degree abating the heat. The children were +lying listlessly upon the floor, and the girl and I were +finishing sunbonnets, when Mary suddenly exclaimed, "Bless us, +mistress, what a smoke!" + +I ran immediately to the door, but was not able to distinguish +ten yards before me. The swamp immediately below us was on fire, +and the heavy wind was driving a dense black cloud of smoke +directly toward us. + +"What can this mean?" I cried. "Who can have set fire to the +fallow?" As I ceased speaking, John Thomas stood pale and +trembling before me. "John, what is the meaning of this fire?" + +"Oh, ma'am, I hope you will forgive me; it was I set fire to it, +and I would give all I have in the world if I had not done it." + +"What is the danger?" + +"Oh, I'm afraid that we shall all be burnt up," said John, +beginning to whimper. "What shall we do?" + +"Why, we must get out of it as fast as we can, and leave the +house to its fate." + +"We can't get out," said the man, in a low hollow tone, which +seemed the concentration of fear; "I would have got out of it if +I could; but just step to the back door, ma'am, and see." + +Behind, before, on every side, we were surrounded by a wall of +fire, burning furiously within a hundred yards of us, and cutting +off all possibility of retreat; for, could we have found an +opening through the burning heaps, we could not have seen our way +through the dense canopy of smoke; and, buried as we were in the +heart of the forest, no one could discover our situation till we +were beyond the reach of help. + +I closed the door, and went back to the parlor. Fear was knocking +loudly at my heart, for our utter helplessness destroyed all hope +of our being able to effect our escape. The girl sat upon the +floor by the children, who, unconscious of the peril that hung +over them, had both fallen asleep. She was silently weeping; +while the boy who had caused the mischief was crying aloud. + +A strange calm succeeded my first alarm. I sat down upon the step +of the door, and watched the awful scene in silence. The fire was +raging in the cedar swamp immediately below the ridge on which +the house stood, and it presented a spectacle truly appalling. + +From out of the dense folds of a canopy of black smoke--the +blackest I ever saw--leaped up red forks of lurid flame as high +as the tree tops, igniting the branches of a group of tall pines +that had been left for saw logs. A deep gloom blotted out the +heavens from our sight. The air was filled with fiery particles, +which floated even to the doorstep-while the crackling and +roaring of the flames might have been heard at a great distance. + +To reach the shore of the lake, we must pass through the burning +swamp, and not a bird could pass over it with unscorched wings. +The fierce wind drove the flames at the sides and back of the +house up the clearing; and our passage to the road or to the +forest, on the right and left, was entirely obstructed by a sea +of flames. Our only ark of safety was the house, so long as it +remained untouched by the fire. + +I turned to young Thomas, and asked him how long he thought that +would be. "When the fire clears this little ridge in front, +ma'am. The Lord have mercy on us then, or we must all go." + +I threw myself down on the floor beside my children, and pressed +them to my heart, while inwardly I thanked God that they were +asleep, unconscious of danger, and unable by their cries to +distract our attention from adopting any plan which might offer +to effect their escape. + +The heat soon became suffocating. We were parched with thirst, +and there was not a drop of water in the house, and none to be +procured nearer than the lake. I turned once more to the door, +hoping that a passage might have been burnt through to the water. +I saw nothing but a dense cloud of fire and smoke--could hear +nothing but the crackling and roaring of flames, which were +gaining so fast upon us that I felt their scorching breath in my +face. + +"Ah," thought I,--and it was a most bitter thought,--"what will +my beloved husband say when he returns and finds that his poor +wife and his dear girls have perished in this miserable manner? +But God can save us yet." + +The thought had scarcely found a voice in my heart before the +wind rose to a hurricane, scattering the flames on all sides into +a tempest of burning billows. I buried my head in my apron, for I +thought that all was lost, when a most terrific crash of thunder +burst over our heads, and, like the breaking of a waterspout, +down came the rushing torrent of rain which had been pent up for +so many weeks. + +In a few minutes the chipyard was all afloat, and the fire +effectually checked. The storm which, unnoticed by us, had been +gathering all day, and which was the only one of any note we had +that summer, continued to rage all night, and before morning had +quite subdued the cruel enemy whose approach we had viewed with +such dread. + +--Prom "Roughing it in the Bush." + + + +PICCOLA. + +BY CELIA LEIGHTON THAXTER. + +Poor, sweet Piccola! Did you hear +What happened to Piccola, children dear? +'Tis seldom Fortune such favor grants +As fell to this little maid of France. + +'Twas Christmas time, and her parents poor +Could hardly drive the wolf from the door, +Striving with poverty's patient pain +Only to live till summer again. + +No gift for Piccola! sad were they +When dawned the morning of Christmas day! +Their little darling no joy might stir; +St. Nicholas nothing would bring to her! + +But Piccola never doubted at all +That something beautiful must befall +Every child upon Christmas day, +And so she slept till the dawn was gray. + +And full of faith, when at last she woke, +She stole to her shoe as the morning broke; +Such sounds of gladness filled all the air, +'Twas plain St. Nicholas had been there. + +In rushed Piccola, sweet, half wild-- +Never was seen such a joyful child-- +"See what the good saint brought!" she cried, +And mother and father must peep inside. + +Now such a story I never heard! +There was a little shivering bird! +A sparrow, that in at the window flew, +Had crept into Piccola's tiny shoe! + +"How good poor Piccola must have been!" +She cried, as happy as any queen, +While the starving sparrow she fed and warmed, +And danced with rapture, she was so charmed. + +Children, this story I tell to you, +Of Piccola sweet and her bird, is true. +In the far-off land of France, they say, +Still do they live to this very day. + +DEFINITIONS:--Dawned, began to grow light. Befall, happen. +Shivering, trembling from cold. Tiny, very small. + + + +THE MOUNTAIN AND THE SQUIRREL. + +BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON. + +The mountain and the squirrel + Had a quarrel, + And the former called the latter "Little Prig"; + Bun replied: "You are doubtless very big; + But all sorts of things and weather + Must be taken in together + To make up a year + And a sphere. + And I think it no disgrace + To occupy my place. + If I'm not so large as you, + You are not so small as I, + And not half so spry. + I'll not deny you make + A very pretty squirrel track; + Talents differ; all is well and wisely put; + If I cannot carry forests on my back, + Neither can you crack a nut." + + + +STRANGE STORIES OF ANTS. + +I. WHITE ANTS. + +BY HENRY DIAMOND. + +The white ant is a small insect, the body being of a yellowish +white color, and repulsive in appearance. This tiny earth-dweller +lives almost entirely on wood. When a tree is cut down, white +ants immediately swarm toward the food thus unwittingly provided +for them by man. + +You might reside in Africa for many years and never see one of +these ants, for they live underground; but their ravages confront +the explorer at almost every step. You build a house in Uganda. +For a short time you fancy that you have pitched upon the only +spot in the country where there are no white ants. But one day +the doorposts totter, and lintel and rafters come down with a +crash. You look at a section of any one of the wrecked timbers, +and find that the whole inside has been eaten away. + +The apparently solid logs of the whole house are now all mere +cylinders of bark, and through the thickest of them you could +push your little finger. The household furniture--in fact +everything made of wood--has been attacked and utterly ruined. +Indeed, the ants will gnaw through most substances except +earthenware, glass, iron, and tin. So greatly are these tiny +creatures feared in certain parts of Africa that, in those +districts, wooden trunks are never carried by experienced +travelers. + +The white ant is never visible. Why it should not show itself is +strange--it is stone blind. But its modesty is really due to a +desire for self-protection; for the moment it shows itself above +ground it finds a dozen enemies waiting to devour it. Still, the +white ant can never procure food until it does come above the +surface of the soil. + +Night is the great feeding time in the tropics, but it is clear +that darkness is no protection to the ant, and yet without coming +out of the ground it cannot live. The difficulty is solved thus: +It takes earth up with it. White ants may have reached the top of +a tree, and yet they were underground not long ago. They took up +soil with them, building it into tunnel-huts as they moved +upward; and in these huts they lived securely, feasting on the +wood of the tree, around which they had built solid walls of +earth. + +Millions of trees, in some districts, are plastered over with mud +tubes, galleries, and chambers. It is not unusual to find a tree +having thousands of pounds of earth packed around it. The earth +is conveyed by the insects up a central pipe, with which all the +various galleries communicate, and which, at the downward end, +connects with passages running deep into the ground. + +The white ant's method of working is as follows: At the foot of a +tree the tiniest hole cautiously opens in the soil close to the +bark. A small head appears with a tiny grain of earth clasped in +its jaws. Against the tree trunk this grain is deposited and +the head is withdrawn. Again the little creature returns with +another grain, which is laid beside the first, tight against it, +and the builder once more disappears underground in search of +more of these unquarried building stones. + +A third grain is not placed against the tree, but against the +former grains; a fourth, a fifth, and a sixth grain follow, and +the plan of a foundation begins to suggest itself. The grains are +formed into a semicircular wall, and the work is pushed forward +by many thousands of the little masons. As the wall grows higher +and higher, it takes the shape of a long perpendicular tunnel +running up the side of the tree--a marvel of architectural skill. + +The way in which the building is done is extremely curious. Each +grain or stone, as it is brought to the top, is covered with +mortar. Without this precaution the wall would crumble into dust +before reaching half an inch in height; but the insect pours over +the earthen grains a sticky secretion, turning each grain round +and round until it has been overspread with the gluelike liquid. +Then the stone is placed with great care in the proper position, +and is worked about vigorously for a moment or two until it is +well set. + +To every hundred workers in a white-ant colony, which numbers +many thousands of individuals, there are, perhaps, two soldiers. +These are larger in build than the laborers, and never perform +any other work than sentry duty; yet they go about with a certain +air of business, as if one were the architect and the other the +superintendent of the structure being built. + +They are stationed at the mouth of the tunnel. Sometimes +enemies--other species of ants--draw near, and then the working +white ants, being but poor, defenseless creatures, blind and +unarmed, would be in danger of death were not their big fighting +comrades on guard. The soldiers rush to the rescue and, with a +few sweeps of their scythe-like jaws, clear the field. While the +attacking party is carrying off its dead, the builders, +unconscious of the fray, quietly continue at their work. + +It is not only a tree here and there that exhibits the work of +the white ant, but in many places the whole forest is so colored +with dull red columns as to give a distinct tone to the +landscape. The earth tubes crumble into dust in the summer, the +clay is scattered over the country by the wind, and in this +way tends to increase and refresh the soil. + +Again, during the rains, this ant-raised earth is washed into the +rivulets and borne away to fertilize distant valleys, or is +carried to the ocean, where, along the coast line, it "sows the +dust of continents to be." + + +II. RED ANTS. + +BY JULES MICHELET. + +Peter Huber, walking one day in a field near Geneva, saw on the +ground a strong detachment of reddish colored ants on the march, +and bethought himself of following them. On the flanks of the +column, as if to dress its ranks, a few sped to and fro in eager +haste. After marching for about a quarter of an hour, they halted +before an ant-hill belonging to some small black ants, and a +desperate struggle took place at its gates. + +A small number of blacks offered a brave resistance; but the +great majority of the people thus assailed fled through the gates +remotest from the scene of combat, carrying away their young. It +was just these which were the cause of the strife--what the +blacks most feared being the theft of their offspring. And soon +the assailants, who had succeeded in penetrating into the city, +might be seen emerging from it, loaded with the young black +progeny. + +The red ants, encumbered with their living booty, left the +unfortunate city in the desolation of its great loss, and resumed +the road to their own habitation, whither their astonished +observer followed them. But how was his astonishment augmented +when at the threshold of the red ants' community, a small +population of black ants came forward to receive the plunder, +welcoming with visible joy these children of their own race, +which would perpetuate it in foreign lands! + +This, then, was a mixed city, where the strong warrior ants lived +on a perfectly good understanding with the little blacks. But +what of the latter? Huber soon discovered that they were the +workers of the community. It was they alone who did all the +building. They alone took care of the young red ants and the +captives of their own species. They alone administered the +affairs of the city, provided its supplies of food, and waited +upon their red masters who, like great infant giants, allowed +their little attendants to feed them at the mouth. + +The only occupations of the red masters were war, theft, and +kidnaping. Nothing did they do in the intervals but wander about +lazily, and bask in the sunshine at the doors of their barracks. + +Huber made an experiment. He wanted to see what would be the +result if the great red ants found themselves without servants. +He put a few into a glass case, and put some honey for them in a +corner, so that they had nothing to do but take it. Miserable the +degradation, cruel the punishment with which slavery afflicts the +enslavers! They did not touch it; they seemed to know nothing; +they had become so grossly ignorant that they could no longer +feed themselves. Some of them died from starvation, with food +before them. + +To complete the experiment, Huber then introduced into the case +one black ant. The presence of this sagacious slave changed the +face of things, and reestablished life and order. He went +straight to the honey, and fed the dying simpletons. + +The little blacks in many things carry a moral authority whose +signs are very visible. They do not, for example, permit the +great red ants to go out alone on useless expeditions, but compel +them to return into the city. Nor are they even at liberty to go +out in a body if their wise little slaves do not think the +weather favorable, if they fear a storm, or if the day is far +advanced. When an excursion proves unsuccessful, and they return +without children, the little blacks are stationed at the gates of +the city to forbid their ingress, and send them back to the +combat; nay more, you may see them take the cowards by the +collar, and force them to retrace their route. + +These are astounding facts; but they were seen by Huber, as here +described. Not being able to trust his eyes, he summoned one of +the greatest naturalists of Sweden, Jurine, to his side, to make +new investigations and decide whether he had been deceived. This +witness, and others who made similar observations, found that his +discoveries were just as he had described them. Yet, after all +these weighty testimonies, I still doubted, until on a certain +occasion in the park of Fontainebleau, I saw it with my own eyes. + +It was half past four in the afternoon of a very warm day. From a +pile of stones emerged a column of from four to five hundred red +or reddish ants. They marched rapidly toward a piece of turf, +kept in order by their sergeants, whom I saw on the flanks and +who would not permit any one to straggle. + +Suddenly the mass seemed to sink and disappear. There was no sign +of ant-hills in the turf; but after a while I detected an almost +imperceptible orifice, through which we saw them vanish in less +time than it takes to write these words. I supposed that probably +this was the entrance to their own home; but in less than a +minute they showed me that I was mistaken. Out they thronged, +each carrying a young captive in its mandibles. + +From the short time they had taken, it was evident that they had +a previous knowledge of the place, and knew where the infant +blacks were kept. Perhaps it was no+ their first journey. The +black ants whose home had been invaded sallied out in +considerable numbers. They did not attempt to fight. They seemed +frightened and stunned. They endeavored only to delay the red +ants by clinging to them. A red ant was thus stopped; but another +red one, who was free, relieved him of his burden, and thereupon +the black ant relaxed his grasp. + +It was, in fact, a pitiful sight. The blacks offered no serious +resistance. The five hundred reds succeeded in carrying off fully +three hundred young ants. At two or three feet from the hole, the +blacks ceased to pursue them, and returned slowly to their home. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Repulsive, disagreeable. Tropics, the warm regions +near the equator. Precaution, care taken beforehand. Fray, fight. +Augmented, made greater. Astounding, overwhelming. Mandibles, the +mouth organs of insects. Sallied, rushed forth. + + + +DEAR COUNTRY MINE. + +BY RICHARD WATSON GILDER. + +Dear country mine! far in that viewless west, +And ocean-warded, strife thou too hast known; +But may thy sun hereafter bloodless shine, +And may thy way be onward without wrath, +And upward on no carcass of the slain; +And if thou smitest let it be for peace +And justice--not in hate, or pride, or lust +Of empire. Mayst thou ever be, O land, +Noble and pure as thou art free and strong; +So shalt thou lift a light for all the world +And for all time, and bring the Age of Peace. + +--By permission, From "Five Books of Song." + + + +MY COUNTRY. + +I love my country's vine-clad hills, +Her thousand bright and gushing rills, + Her sunshine and her storms; +Her rough and rugged rocks that rear +Their hoary heads high in the air, + In wild fantastic forms. + +I love her rivers deep and wide, +Those mighty streams that seaward glide, + To seek the ocean's breast; +Her smiling fields, her pleasant vales, +Her shady dells, her flowery dales-- + Abodes of peaceful rest. + +I love her forests, dark and lone, +For there the wild-bird's merry tone + I hear from morn till night; +And lovelier flowers are there, I ween, +Than e'er in Eastern lands were seen + In varied colors bright. + +Her forests and her valleys fair, +Her flowers that scent the morning air, + All have their charms for me; +But more I love my country's name, + Those words that echo deathless fame-- +The Land of Liberty. + + + +THE FOUR MacNICOLS. + +BY WILLIAM BLACK. + +This is the true story of how four lads in a fishing village in +the North of Scotland, being left orphans by the drowning of +their father, learned the great lesson of self-help. + +They were the four MacNicols,--Robert, an active, stout-sinewed, +black-eyed lad of seventeen; his two younger brothers, Duncan and +Nicol; and his cousin Neil. + +It was a sad evening for Rob MacNicol when the body of his father +was brought home to their poor lodgings. It was his first +introduction to the hard facts of life. + +"Neil," said Rob to his cousin, "we'll have to think about things +now. We have just about as much left as will pay the lodgings +this week, and Nicol must go three nights a week to the night +school. What we get for stripping the nets will not do now."--"It +will not," said Neil. + +"Neil," said he, "if we had only a net; do you not think we could +trawl for cuddies?" And again he said, "Neil, do you not think we +could make a net for ourselves out of the old rags lying about +the shed?" And again he said, "Do you think that Peter the tailor +would let us have his old boat for a shilling a week?" + +It was clear that Rob had been carefully considering the details +of this plan. And it was eagerly welcomed, not only by Neil, but +also by the brothers, Duncan and Nicol. + +It was agreed, under Rob's direction, to set to work at once. So +Rob bade his brothers and cousin get their rude fishing rods, and +hie away down to the rocks at the mouth of the harbor, and see +what fish they could get for him during the afternoon. + +Meanwhile he himself went along to a shed which was used as a +sort of storage house by some of the fishermen; and here he found +lying about plenty of pieces of net that had been cast aside as +worthless. + +Rob was allowed to pick out a number of pieces that he thought +might serve his purpose; and these he carried home. But then came +the question of floats and sinkers. Enough pieces of cork to form +the floats might in time be found about the beach; but the +sinkers had all been removed from the castaway netting. + +II. + +Rob was a quick-witted lad, and soon formed the plan of rigging +up a couple of guy poles, as the salmon fishers call them, one +for each end of the small seine he had in view. These guy poles, +with a lump of lead at the lower end, would keep the net vertical +while it was being dragged through the water. + +All this took up the best part of the afternoon; for he had to +hunt about before he could get a couple of stout poles; and he +had to bargain with the blacksmith for a lump of lead. Then he +walked along to the point where the other MacNicols were busy +fishing. + +They had been lucky with their lines and bait. On the rocks +beside them lay two or three small codfish, a large flounder, two +good-sized lythe, and nearly a dozen saithe. Rob washed them +clean, put a string through their gills, and marched off with +them to the village. + +He felt no shame in trying to sell fish: was it not the whole +trade of the village? So he walked into the grocer's shop. + +"Will you buy some fish?" said he; "they're fresh." + +The grocer looked at them. + +"What do you want?" + +"A ball of twine." + +"Let me tell you this, Rob," said the grocer severely, "that a +lad in your place should be thinking of something else than +flying a kite." + +"I don't want to fly a kite," said Rob, "I want to mend a net." + +"Oh, that is quite different," said the grocer. So Rob had his +ball of twine--and a very large one it was. Off he set to his +companions. "Come away, boys, I have other work for you." + +III. + +Well, it took them several days of very hard and constant work +before they rigged up something resembling a small seine. Then +Rob fixed his guy poles to it; and the lads went to the grocer, +and got from him a lot of old rope, on the promise to give +him a few fresh fish whenever they happened to have a good haul. +Then Rob proceeded to his interview with Peter the tailor, who, +after a good deal of grumbling, agreed to let them have his boat +for a shilling a week. + +Rob went back eager and joyous. Forthwith a thorough inspection +of the boat was set about by the lads: they tested the oars, they +tested the thole pins, they had a new piece of cork put into the +bottom. For that evening, when it grew a little more toward +dusk, they would make their first cast with their net. + +Yes; and that evening, when it had quite turned to dusk, the +people of Erisaig were startled with a new proclamation. It was +Neil MacNicol, standing in front of the cottages, and boldly +calling forth these words:-- + +"IS THERE ANY ONE WANTING CUDDIES? THERE ARE CUDDIES TO BE SOLD +AT THE WEST SLIP, FOR SIXPENCE A HUNDRED!" + +The sale of the cuddies went on briskly. Indeed, when the people +had gone away there was not a fish left except a dozen that Rob +had put into a can of water, to be given to the grocer as part +payment for the loan of the ropes. + +"What do you make it altogether?" said Neil to Rob, who was +counting the money. + +"Three shillings and ninepence." + +"Three shillings and ninepence! Man, that's a lot! Will you put +it in the savings bank?" + +"No, I will not," said Rob. "I'm not satisfied with the net, +Neil. We must have better ropes all the way round; and sinkers, +too." + +IV. + +One afternoon, about ten days afterward, they set out as usual. +They had earned more than enough to pay their landlady, the +tailor, and the schoolmaster; and every farthing beyond these +expenses they had spent on the net. + +Well, on this afternoon, Duncan and Nicol were pulling away to +one of the small, quiet bays, and Rob was idly looking around +him, when he saw something on the surface of the sea at some +distance off that excited a sudden interest. It was what the +fishermen call "broken water,"--a seething produced by a shoal +of fish. + +"Look, look, Neil!" he cried. "It's either mackerel or herring: +shall we try for them?" + +The greatest excitement now prevailed on board. The younger +brothers pulled their hardest for that rough patch on the water. + +They came nearer and nearer that strange hissing of the water. +They kept rather away from it; and Rob quietly dropped the guy +pole over, paying out the net rapidly, so that it should not be +dragged after the boat. + +Then the three lads pulled hard, and in a circle, so that at last +they were sending the bow of the boat straight toward the +floating guy pole. The other guy pole was near the stern of the +boat, the rope made fast to one of the thwarts. In a few minutes +Rob had caught this first guy pole: they were now possessed of +the two ends of the net. + +But the water had grown suddenly quiet. Had the fish dived, and +escaped them? There was not the motion of a fin anywhere, and yet +the net seemed heavy to haul. + +"Rob," said Neil, almost in a whisper, "we've got them!" + +"We haven't got them, but they're in the net. Man, I wonder if +it'll hold out?" + +Then it was that the diligent patching and the strong tackle +told; for they had succeeded in inclosing a goodly portion of a +large shoal of mackerel, and the weight seemed more than they +could get into the boat. + +But even the strength of the younger lads seemed to grow into the +strength of giants when they saw through the clear water a great +moving mass like quicksilver. And then the wild excitement of +hauling in; the difficulty of it; the danger of the fish +escaping; the warning cries of Rob; the possibility of swamping +the boat, as all the four were straining their utmost at one +side! + +When that heaving, sparkling mass of quicksilver at last was +captured, the young lads sat down quite exhausted, wet through, +but happy. + +"Man! Rob, what do you think of that?" said Neil, in amazement. + +"What do I think?" said Rob. "I think, that, if we could get two +or three more hauls like that, I would soon buy a share in Coll +MacDougall's boat, and go after the herring." + +V. + +They had no more thought that afternoon of "cuddy" fishing after +this famous "take," but rowed back to Erisaig; then Rob left the +boat at the slip, and walked up to the office of the fish +salesman. + +"What will you give me for mackerel?" he said. The salesman +laughed at him, thinking he had caught a few with rods and flies. + +"I'm not buying mackerel," said he; "not by the half-dozen." + +"I have half a boat load," said Rob. + +The salesman glanced toward the slip, and saw the tailor's boat +pretty low in the water. + +"I'll go down to the slip with you." + +So he and Rob together walked down to the slip, and the salesman +had a look at the mackeral. + +"Well, I will buy the mackerel from you," he said. "I will give +you half a crown the hundred for them." + +"Half a crown!" said Rob. "I will take three and sixpence the +hundred for them." + +"I will not give it to you. But I will give you three shillings +the hundred, and a good price too."--"Very well, then," said +Rob. + +So the MacNicols got altogether two pounds and eight shillings +for that load of mackerel; and out of that Rob spent the eight +shillings on still further improving the net, the two pounds +going into the savings hank. + +VI. + +As time went on, by dint of hard and constant work, the sum in +the savings bank slowly increased; and at last Rob announced to +his companions that they had saved enough to enable him to +purchase a share in Coll MacDougall's boat. + +These MacNicol boys had grown to be very much respected in +Erisaig; and one day, as Rob was going along the main street, the +banker called him into his office. "Rob," said he, "have you seen +the yacht at the building yard?" + +"Yes," said Rob, rather wistfully, for many a time he had stood +and looked at the beautiful lines of the new craft; "she's a +splendid boat." + +"Well, you see, Rob," continued Mr. Bailie, regarding him with a +good-natured look, "I had the boat built as a kind of +speculation. Now, I have been hearing a good deal about you, Rob, +from the neighbors. They say that you and your brothers and +cousin are good, careful seamen. Now, do you think you could +manage that new boat?" + +Rob was quite bewildered. All he could say was, "I am obliged to +you, sir. Will you wait for a minute till I see Neil?" And very +soon the wild rumor ran through Erisaig, that Rob MacNicol had +been appointed master of the new yacht the Mary of Argyle and +that he had taken his brothers and cousin as a crew. + +Rob sold out his share in MacDougall's boat, and bought jerseys +and black boots and yellow oilskins for his companions; so that +the new crew, if they were rather slightly built, looked spruce +enough as they went down to the slip to overhaul the Mary of +Argyle. + +VII. + +Then came the afternoon on which they were to set out for the +first time after the herring. All Erisaig came out to see; and +Rob was a proud lad as he stepped on board, and took his seat as +stroke oar. + +It was not until they were at the mouth of the harbor that +something occurred which seemed likely to turn this fine setting +out into ridicule. This was Daft Sandy (a half-witted old man to +whom Robert MacNicol had been kind), who rowed his boat right +across the course of the Mary of Argyle, and, as she came up, +called to Rob. + +"What do you want?" cried Rob. + +"I want to come on board, Rob," the old man said, as he now rowed +his boat up to the stern of the yacht. "Rob," said he, in a +whisper, as he fastened the painter of his boat, "I promised I +would tell you something. I'll show you how to find the herring." + +"You!" said Rob. + +"Yes, Rob," said Daft Sandy; "I'll make a rich man of you. I will +tell you something about the herring that no one in Erisaig +knows,--that no one in all Scotland knows." + +Then he begged Rob to take him for that night's fishing. He had +discovered a sure sign of the presence of herring, unknown to any +of the fishermen: it was the appearance, on the surface of the +water, of small air-bubbles. + +Rob MacNicol was doubtful, for he had never heard of this thing +before; but at last he could not resist the pleading of the old +man. So they pulled in, and anchored the boats until toward +sunset. Then, taking poor Sandy on board of the Mary of Argyle, +they set forth again, rowing slowly as the light faded out of the +sky, and keeping watch all around on the almost glassy sea. + +VIII. + +The night was coming on, and they were far away from home; but +old Sandy kept up his watch, studying the water as though he +expected to find pearls floating in it. At last, in great +excitement, he grasped Rob's arm. Leaning over the side of the +boat, they could just make out in the dusk a great quantity of +air-bubbles rising to the surface. + +"Put some stones along with the sinkers, Rob," the old man said, +in a whisper, as though he were afraid of the herring hearing. +"Go deep, deep, deep!" + +To let out a long drift-net, which sometimes goes as deep as +fifteen fathoms, is an easy affair: but to haul it in again is a +hard task; and when it happens to be laden, and heavily laden, +with silver gleaming fish, that is a breakback business for four +young lads. + +But if you are hauling in yard after yard of a dripping net, only +to find the brown meshes starred at every point with the shining +silver of the herring, then even young lads can work like men. +Sandy was laughing all the while. + +"Rob, my man, what think you of the air-bubbles now? Maybe Daft +Sandy is not so daft after all. And do you think I would go and +tell any one but yourself, Rob?" + +Rob could not speak; he was breathless. Nor was their work nearly +done when they had got in the net, with all its splendid silver +treasure. For as there was not a breath of wind, they had to set +to work to pull the heavy boat back to Erisaig. The gray dawn +gave way to a glowing sunrise; and when they at length reached +the quay, tired out with work and want of sleep, the people were +all about. + +Mr. Bailie came along and shook hands with Rob, and congratulated +him; for it turned out that, while not another Erisaig boat had +that night got more than from two to three crans, the Mary Of +Argyle had ten crans--as good herring as ever were got out of +Loch Scrone. + +Well, the MacNicol lads were now in a fair way of earning an +independent and honorable living. And the last that the present +writer heard of them was this: that they had bought outright the +Mary of Argyle and her nets, from the banker; and that they +were building for themselves a small stone cottage on the slope +of the hill above Erisaig; and that Daft Sandy was to become a +sort of major-domo,--cook, gardener, and mender of nets. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Details, particulars. Lythe, saithe, cuddies, kinds +of fish. Thole pins, pins to keep the oars in place. Trawl, to +fish with a net. Vertical, upright. Dint, means. Interest, +attention. Prevailed, existed. Seething, a stir, a boiling. Told, +had a great effect. Thwarts, benches. Crans, barrels. Daft, weak- +minded. Major-domo, steward. + + + +THE BLUE AND THE GRAY. + +BY ELLEN H. FLAGG. + +Two soldiers, lying where they fell + Upon the reddened clay,-- +In daytime foes; at night, in peace, + Breathing their lives away. +Brave hearts had stirred each manly breast; + Fate only made them foes; +And lying, dying, side by side, + A softened feeling rose. + +"Our time is short," one faint voice said: + "To-day we've done our best +On different sides. What matters now? + To-morrow we're at rest. +Life lies behind. I might not care + For only my own sake; +But far away are other hearts + That this day's work will break. + +"Among New Hampshire's snowy hills + There pray for me to-night +A woman, and a little girl + With hair like golden light." +And at the thought broke forth, at last, + The cry of anguish wild, +That would no longer be repressed,-- + "O God! my wife and child!" + +"And," said the other dying man, + "Across the Georgia plain +There watch and wait for me loved ones + I'll never see again. +A little girl with dark bright eyes + Each day waits at the door; +The father's step, the father's kiss, + Will never meet her more. + +"To-day we sought each other's lives; + Death levels all that now, +For soon before God's mercy seat + Together shall we bow. +Forgive each other while we may; + Life's but a weary game, +And, right or wrong, the morning sun + Will find us dead the same." +And the little girl with golden hair, + And one with dark eyes bright, +On Hampshire's hills and Georgia's plain, + Were fatherless that night. + + +DEFINITIONS:--Anguish, great sorrow or distress. Sought, looked +for, tried to destroy. Levels, makes all equal or of the same +height. Repressed, held back, restrained. Foes, enemies. +Fatherless, without a living father. + +EXERCISE.--In what war did the incident here narrated occur? +Where is New Hampshire? Where is Georgia? Where did this battle +probably take place? What is meant by "hair like golden light"? + + + +THE CAPTAIN'S FEATHER. + +BY SAMUEL MINTURN PECK. + +The dew is on the heather, + The moon is in the sky, +And the captain's waving feather + Proclaims the hour is nigh +When some upon their horses + Shall through the battle ride, +And some with bleeding corses + Must on the heather bide. + +The dust is on the heather, + The moon is in the sky, +And about the captain's feather + The bolts of battle fly. +But hark! What sudden wonder + Breaks forth upon the gloom? +It is the cannon's thunder,-- + It is the voice of doom. + +The blood is on the heather, + The night is in the sky, +And the gallant captain's feather + Shall wave no more on high. +The grave and holy brother + To God is saying mass; +But who shall tell his mother, + And who shall tell his lass? + + + +THE RIDE TO LONDON. + +BY CHARLES DICKENS. + +I. + +When the coach came round with "London" blazoned in letters of +gold upon the boot, it gave Tom such a turn, that he was half +disposed to run away. But he didn't do it; for he took his seat +upon the box instead, and looking down upon the four grays felt +as if he were another gray himself, or at all events, a part of +the turn-out; and was quite confused by the novelty and splendor +of his situation. + +And really it might have confused a less modest man than Tom to +find himself sitting next to that coachman; for of all the swells +that ever flourished a whip professionally, he might have been +elected Emperor. He didn't handle the gloves like another man, +but put them on--even when he was standing on the pavement, quite +detached from the coach--as if the four grays were, somehow or +other, at the ends of the fingers. It was the same with his hat. +He did things with his hat, which nothing but an unlimited +knowledge of horses and the wildest freedom of the road could +ever have made him perfect in. Valuable little parcels were +brought to him with particular instructions, and he pitched them +into his hat, and stuck it on again, as if the laws of gravity +did not admit of such an event as its being knocked off or blown +off, and nothing like an accident could befall it. + +The guard, too! Seventy breezy miles a day were written in his +very whiskers. His manners were a canter; his conversation a +round trot. He was a fast coach upon a downhill turnpike road; he +was all pace. A wagon couldn't have moved slowly, with that guard +and his key bugle on top of it. + +These were all foreshadowings of London, Tom thought, as he sat +upon the box and looked about it. Such a coachman, and such a +guard, never could have existed between Salisbury and any other +place. The coach was none of your steady-going yokel coaches, but +a swaggering, rakish London coach; up all night, and lying by all +day, and leading a wild, dissipated life. It cared no more for +Salisbury than if it had been a hamlet. + +It rattled noisily through the best streets, defied the +Cathedral, took the worst corners sharpest, went cutting in +everywhere, making everything get out of its way; and spun along +the open country road, blowing a lively defiance out of its key +bugle, as its last glad parting legacy. + +II. + +It was a charming evening, mild and bright. And even with the +weight upon his mind which arose out of the immensity and +uncertainty of London, Tom could not resist the captivating sense +of rapid motion through the pleasant air. + +The four dappled steeds skimmed along, as if they liked it quite +as well as Tom did; the bugle was in as high spirits as the +horses themselves; the coachman chimed in sometimes with his +voice; the wheels hummed cheerfully in unison; the brasswork on +the harness was an orchestra of little bells; and thus they went +clinking, jingling, rattling smoothly on; the whole concern, from +the buckles of the leaders' coupling reins to the handle of the +hind boot, was one great instrument of music. + +Yoho, past hedges, gates, and trees; past cottages and burns, and +people going home from work. Yoho, past donkey chaises, drawn +aside into the ditch, and empty carts with rampant horses, +whipped up at a bound upon the little watercourse, and held by +struggling carters close to the five-barred gate, until the +coach had passed the narrow turning on the road. Yoho, by +churches dropped down by themselves in quiet nooks, with rustic +burial grounds about them, where the graves are green and daisies +sleep--for it is evening--on the bosoms of the dead. + +Yoho, past streams, in which the cattle cool their feet, and +where the rushes grow; past paddock-fences, farms, and +rickyards.; past last year's stacks, cut, slice by slice, away, +and showing, in the waning light, like ruined gables, odd and +brown. Yoho, down the pebbly dip, and through the merry +watersplash, and up at a canter to the level road again. +Yoho! Yoho! + +Yoho, among the gathering shades; making of no account the deep +reflections of the trees, but scampering on through light and +darkness, all the same, as if the light of London fifty miles +away were quite enough to travel by, and some to spare. Yoho, +beside the village green, where cricket players linger yet, and +every little indentation made in the fresh grass by bat or +wicket, ball or player's foot, sheds out its perfume on the +night. And then a sudden brief halt at the door of a strange +inn--the "Bald-faced Stag"--an exchange of greetings, a new +passenger, a change of teams. + +III. + +Away with four fresh horses from the Bald-faced Stag, where the +village idlers congregate about the door admiring; and the last +team, with traces hanging loose, go roaming off toward the pond, +until observed and shouted after by a dozen throats, while +volunteering boys pursue them. Now, with a clattering of hoofs +and striking out of fiery sparks, across the old stone bridge, +and down again into the shadowy road, and through the open gate, +and far away, away, into the word. Yoho! + +See the bright moon! High up before we know it: making the earth +reflect the objects on its breast like water. Hedges, trees, low +cottages, church steeples, blighted stumps, and flourishing young +slips, have all grown vain upon the sudden, and mean to +contemplate their own fair images till morning. + +The poplars yonder rustle, that their quivering leaves may see +themselves upon the ground. Not so the oak; trembling does not +become him; and he watches himself in his stout old burly +steadfastness, without the motion of a twig. But, leaving oaks +and poplars to their own devices, the stage moves swiftly on, +while the moon keeps even pace with it, gliding over ditch and +brake, upon the plowed land and the smooth, along the steep +hillside and steeper wall, as if it were a phantom Hunter. + +Clouds too! And a mist upon the hollow! Not a dull fog that hides +it, but a light airy gauzelike mist, which in our eyes of modest +admiration gives a new charm to the beauties it is spread before. +Yoho! Why now we travel like the moon herself. Hiding this minute +in a grove of trees; next minute in a patch of vapor; emerging +now upon our clear broad course; withdrawing now, but always +dashing on, our journey is a counterpart of hers. Yoho! A match +against the moon! + +The beauty of the night is hardly felt, when Day comes leaping +up. Yoho! Two stages, and the country roads are almost changed to +a continuous street. Yoho, past market gardens, rows of houses, +villas, crescents, terraces, and squares; past wagons, coaches, +carts; past early workmen, late stragglers, and sober carriers of +loads; past brick and mortar in its every shape; and in among the +rattling pavements, where a jaunty seat upon a coach is not so +easy to preserve! Yoho, down countless turnings, and through +countless mazy ways, until an old innyard is gained, and Tom +Pinch, getting down, quite stunned and giddy, is in London! + +--Adapted from "Martin Chuzzlewit." + + +DEFINITIONS:--Swells, self-important personages. Guard, +conductor. Legacy, something left by will. Boot, a place for +baggage at either end of a stagecoach. Dip, slope. Dowager, an +English title for widow. + + + +THE PLANTING OF THE APPLE TREE. + +BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. + + Come, let us plant the apple tree. +Cleave the tough greensward with the spade; +Wide let its hollow bed be made; +There gently lay the roots, and there +Sift the dark mold with kindly care, + And press it o'er them tenderly, +As round the sleeping infant's feet +We softly fold the cradle sheet; + So plant we the apple tree. + + What plant we in this apple tree? +Buds, which the breath of summer days +Shall lengthen into leafy sprays; +Boughs where the thrush, with crimson breast, +Shall haunt, and sing, and hide her nest; + We plant, upon the sunny lea, +A shadow for the noontide hour, +A shelter from the summer shower, + When we plant the apple tree. + + What plant we in this apple tree? +Sweets for a hundred flowery springs, +To load the May wind's restless wings, +When, from the orchard row, he pours +Its fragrance through our open doors; + A world of blossoms for the bee, +Flowers for the sick girl's silent room, +For the glad infant sprigs of bloom, + We plant with the apple tree. + + What plant we in this apple tree? +Fruits that shall swell in sunny June, +And redden in the August noon, +And drop, when gentle airs come by, +That fan the blue September sky, + While children come, with cries of glee, +And seek them where the fragrant grass +Betrays their bed to those who pass, + At the foot of the apple tree. + + And when, above this apple tree, +The winter stars are quivering bright, +The winds go howling through the night, +Girls, whose young eyes o'erflow with mirth, +Shall peel its fruit by cottage hearth, + And guests in prouder homes shall see, +Heaped with the grape of Cintra's vine, +And golden orange of the line, + The fruit of the apple tree. + + The fruitage of this apple tree, +Winds and our flag of stripe and star +Shall bear to coasts that lie afar, +Where men shall wonder at the view, +And ask in what fair groves they grew; + And sojourners beyond the sea +Shall think of childhood's careless day, +And long, long hours of summer play, + In the shade of the apple tree. + + Each year shall give this apple tree +A broader flush of roseate bloom, +A deeper maze of verdurous gloom, +And loosen, when the frost-clouds lower, +The crisp brown leaves in thicker shower. + The years shall come and pass, but we +Shall hear no longer, where we lie, +The summer's songs, the autumn's sigh, + In the boughs of the apple tree. + + And time shall waste this apple tree. +Oh, when its aged branches throw +Thin shadows on the ground below, +Shall fraud and force and iron will +Oppress the weak and helpless still? + What shall the tasks of mercy be, +Amid the toils, the strifes, the tears +Of those who live when length of years + Is wasting this apple tree? + + "Who planted this old apple tree?" +The children of that distant day +Thus to some aged man shall say; +And, gazing on its mossy stem, +The gray-haired man shall answer them: + "A poet of the land was he, +Born in the rude but good old times; +'Tis said he made some quaint old rhymes + On planting the apple tree." + +DEFINITIONS:--Greensward, turf or sod green with grass. Mold, +crumbling earth. Lea, a grassy field. Cintra, a town in Portugal +noted for its fine climate and its delicious grapes. Line, the +equator. Roseate, rose-colored. Verdurous, greenish. + + + +THE APPLE. + +BY JOHN BORROUGHS. + +The apple is the commonest and yet the most varied and beautiful +of fruits. A dish of them is as becoming to the center table in +winter as is the vase of flowers in summer--a bouquet of +Spitzenbergs and Greenings and Northern Spies. + +A rose when it blooms, the apple is a rose when it ripens. It +pleases every sense to which it can be addressed,--the touch, the +smell, the sight, the taste; and when it falls in the still +October days it pleases the ear. It is a call to a banquet,--it +is a signal that the feast is ready. The bough would fain hold +it, but it can now assert its independence; it can now live a +life of its own. + +Daily the stem relaxes its hold, till finally it lets go +completely, and down comes the painted sphere with a mellow thump +to the earth, toward which it has been nodding so long. + +It will now take time to meditate and ripen! What delicious +thoughts it has there, nestled with its fellows under the fence, +turning acid into sugar, and sugar into wine! + +How pleasing to the touch. I love to stroke its polished rondure +with my hand, to carry it in my pocket on my tramp over the +winter hills, or through the early spring woods. You are company, +you redcheek Spitz or you salmon-fleshed Greening! I toy with +you, press your face to mine, toss you in the air, roll you on +the ground, see you shine out where you lie amid the moss and dry +leaves and sticks. + +You are so alive! You glow like a ruddy flower. You look so +animated I almost expect to see you move! I postpone the eating +of you, you are so beautiful! How compact, how exquisitely +tinted! Stained by the sun and varnished against the rains. An +independent vegetable existence, alive and vascular as my own +flesh; capable of being wounded, bleeding, wasting away, or +almost repairing damages! + +How they resist the cold! holding out almost as long as the red +cheeks of the boys do. A frost that destroys the potatoes and +other roots only makes the apple more crisp and vigorous; they +peep out from the chance November snows unscathed. + +When I see the fruit vender on the street corner stamping his +feet and beating his hands to keep them warm, and his naked +apples lying exposed to the blasts, I wonder if they do not ache, +too, to clap their hands and enliven their circulation. But they +can stand it nearly as long as the vender can. + +Noble common fruit, best friend of man and most loved by him, +following him like his dog or his cow, wherever he goes! His +homestead is not planted till you are planted; your roots +intertwine with his; thriving best where he thrives best, loving +the limestone and the frost, the plow and the pruning knife, +you are indeed suggestive of hardy, cheerful industry, and a +healthy life in the open air. + +Do you remember the apple hole in the garden or back of the +house, Ben Bolt? In the fall, after the bins in the cellar had +been well stocked, we excavated a circular pit in the warm, +mellow earth, and covering the bottom with clean rye straw, +emptied in basketful after basketful of hardy choice varieties, +till there was a tent-shaped mound several feet high, of shining, +variegated fruit. + +Then wrapping it about with a thick layer of long rye straw, and +tucking it up snug and warm, the mound was covered with a thin +coating of earth, a flat stone on top holding down the straw. As +winter set in, another coating of earth was put upon it, with +perhaps an overcoat of coarse, dry stable manure, and the +precious pile was left in silence and darkness till spring. How +the earth tempers and flavors the apples! It draws out all the +acrid, unripe qualities, and infuses into them a subtile, +refreshing taste of the soil. + +As the supply in the bins and barrels gets low, and spring +approaches, the buried treasures in the garden are remembered. +With spade and ax we go out, and penetrate through the snow and +frozen earth till the inner dressing of straw is laid bare. It is +not quite as clear and bright as when we placed it there last +fall, but the fruit beneath, which the hand soon exposes, is just +as bright and far more luscious. + +Then, as day after day you resort to the hole, and removing the +straw and earth from the opening, thrust your arm into the +fragrant pit, you have a better chance than ever before to become +acquainted with your favorites by the sense of touch. How you +feel for them reaching to the right and left. + +When you were a schoolboy you stowed them away in your pockets, +and ate them along the road and at recess, and again at noon +time; and they, in a measure, corrected the effects of the cake +and pie with which your mother filled your lunch basket. + +--Adapted "Winter Sunshine." + +DEFINITIONS:--Meditate, to reflect. Rondure, state of being +round. Exquisitely, with great perfection. Vascular, made up of +small vessels. Unscathed, not injured. Vender, seller. + + + +THE BUGLE SONG. + +BY ALFRED TENNYSON. + +The splendor falls on castle walls + And snowy summits old in story: +The long light shakes across the lakes, + And the wild cataract leaps in glory. + +Blow, bugle, blow; set the wild echoes flying! +Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. + +Oh hark! oh hear! how thin and clear, + And thinner, clearer, farther going! +Oh sweet and far, from cliff and scar + The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! + +Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying; +Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. + +Oh love, they die in yon rich sky, + They faint on hill, or field, or rivers +Our echoes roll from soul to soul, + And grow forever and forever. + +Blow, bugle, blow; set the wild echoes flying, +And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. + +DEFINITIONS:--Splendor, light, glory. Summits, mountain, tops, +lofty mountains. Cataract, a waterfall. Scar, a bare place on a +mountain side. Elfland, fairyland. + + + + +THE STORY OF CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. + +BY JOHN ESTEN COOKE. + +I. + +Captain Smith was born at Willoughby, in England, in the month of +January, 1579. His parents died when he was a mere child, and he +was left alone in the world without any one to take care of him. +Yet he was a brave and independent boy, and he soon showed that +he was well able to make his own way in the world. He was fond of +adventure, as most boys are; and while he was still a youth he +wandered away to Holland, and spent some time with the English +army which was there. + +When he came back to England, he began to train himself for the +life of a soldier. Instead of passing his time in idleness with +other young men of WilloughLy, he went out to the woods near by +and built a sort of house for himself of the boughs of trees. +Here he intended to stay; and as for food, he meant to shoot +deer, and live on the venison. In this "Bower," as he called it, +he got together as many books on warlike matters as he could +find; and he spent the greater part of his time in studying them. + +Young John Smith had a horse and lance with which he practiced +every day, riding swiftly and trying to strike a ring or other +object from the bough of a tree to which it had been hung. He +also practiced with his sword to make his eye keen and his wrist +tough; and he fired at trees with his pistol, to become a good +marksman. By such means as these he fitted himself for the life +of a soldier; and then he set out in search of adventures. + +He crossed the English Channel and landed in France; but three +Frenchmen who had come over with him in the ship treated him very +badly. They saw that he was but a mere boy, and stole the trunk +in which were all his clothing and his money. They left him in +great trouble, for he was in a strange country without friends. +But he kept a brave heart, and soon showed that he could take +care of himself. He wandered on through France, meeting many kind +persons on the way who helped him, until at last he came to the +city of Marseilles on the Mediterranean Sea. + +As his plan was to go and fight the Turks, he went on board a +ship bound for Rome, which was on his way. The ship set sail, but +soon a great storm arose, and the vessel was tossed about, and in +danger of being wrecked. Some of the men on board said that +Smith, being a stranger, had brought them bad luck, and that the +only way to escape the storm was to get rid of him; so they +seized him and threw him into the sea. + +The waves were running very high at the time, and there was great +danger of his being drowned. But he was a good swimmer, and +struck out for the nearest land. This was a small island, called +the Isle of St. Mary's, not far from the coast of Nice, and here +he was thrown on shore by the waves. The weather was very cold, +and he had nothing to eat. But soon another ship came in sight; +he was seen by the crew; and a boat was sent to take him off of +the island. As he went on board the ship he was overjoyed to find +that the captain was an old friend of his. + +The ship was bound for Egypt; but as Smith was in search of +adventures, he cared nothing for that. He agreed to go to Egypt, +and as usual something happened to him on the way. They met with +an enemy's ship; a sharp fight took place, and the enemy's ship +was taken. As young Smith had fought bravely, he received about +two thousand dollars in gold as his share of the prize money. + +This made him quite rich, and he resolved to go on in search of +further adventures. The captain of the ship put him ashore, and +he set out for Transylvania, east of Austria, where there was +fighting between the Christians and the Turks. He had to pass +through a rough, wild country, but he did so safely, and at last +reached the Christian army, and was enrolled as a soldier in it. +He soon proved to his friends that he was no common soldier. + +II. + +The Turks had shut themselves up in a strong castle, where they +were closely besieged by the Christians. From the castle a +Turkish lord sent word to the Christian camp that he was ready to +fight any soldier that might be sent against him. The Christians +accepted the offer, and drew lots to see who should meet him. The +lot fell on John Smith, and when the day came he rode forward to +meet his enemy. + +The Turk was ready. The two enemies rushed upon each other, but +the fight was soon over. Smith's lance struck the Turk in the +forehead and hurled him dead to the ground. Smith then leaped +from his horse and cut off the Turk's head, and the whole +Christian army shouted with joy. + +Very soon a second Turk came out to avenge his friend, and he and +Smith rode at each other. Both their lances were shivered in +pieces, but Smith fired his pistol and broke his enemy's arm. He +fell from his horse, and Smith, leaping down, struck off his +head, as he had struck off that of the first Turk. + +The young soldier was now in high spirits, and he sent a +challenge to the Turks. The challenge was accepted by a famous +Turk called Bonnymulgro. It was agreed that they were to fight +hand to hand with swords, pistols, and battle-axes. They rushed +at full gallop toward each other. After firing their pistols they +began to use their battle-axes. + +Bonnymulgro was a strong man and a dangerous enemy. He struck +Smith so heavy a blow on the head that he reeled in his saddle +and dropped his ax. At this a loud shout rose from the Turks on +the walls, and they shouted louder still, as they saw Smith wheel +his horse and fly, with the big Turk after him. But this was only +a part of Smith's plan. As soon as the Turk caught up with him +and raised his ax, the young soldier quickly wheeled his horse +and ran his sword through Bonnymulgro's breast. The Turk fell +from the saddle, still trying to fight. But Smith struck him down +and cut off his head, which he held up to show that the fight was +ended. + +John Smith was now a distinguished soldier, but he was soon to +find that war is not entirely made up of brave deeds and rich +rewards. A day came when ill-fortune befell him. In a great +battle in which the Christians were beaten, John Smith was +wounded and left on the field. He lay there until night, when +some thieves, who had come to rob the dead bodies of whatever +they could find upon them, heard him groaning from the pain of +his wound, and stopped. He had on a very rich suit of armor, and +from this they supposed that he was some great lord. Hence they +did not kill him, but resolved to carry him away and keep him +prisoner until he paid a large price for his freedom. + +John Smith did not tell them that they were mistaken in this, as +his life depended on his saying nothing. They carried him to a +city called Axiopolis, and here they found that he was only a +poor soldier. He was, therefore, sold in the slave market as a +common slave, and was sent to a Turkish officer called a tymor, +who lived near the Sea of Azov. + +The tymor was a very hard master. He stripped off Smith's clothes +and ordered him to put on coarse sheepskins. He next shaved his +head and put an iron ring round his neck, after which he ordered +him to go to work with the rest of his slaves. Smith's life was +now very miserable. He therefore made up his mind to escape as +soon as possible. + +His work sometimes took him to a lonely barn on the tymor's +estate, where his business was to thresh out grain with a flail. +One day while he was at this labor the tymor came to the barn. He +was in a very bad humor, and when he saw Smith he began to offer +him every insult. This made the young soldier very angry. He +looked around him. No one was in sight, and he had in his hands +his heavy flail. At last the tymor struck him with his riding +whip, at which John Smith returned a deadly blow with his flail. + +The great thing now was to get away, and the young fellow did not +stop long to think. He took off his coarse sheepskins and clothed +himself in the tymor's suit, then he leaped on that officer's +horse and rode off at full gallop. He meant to make his way to +Russia where he was sure that he would be safe; but he did not +know the road. + +After wandering about for many days, he came at last to a Russian +fortress. There he was received with the greatest kindness; the +iron ring was struck from his neck, and not long afterward he +went on his way toward England, "drowned in joy," as he said, at +his escape. + +III. + +Young John Smith soon found that London was no place for a man +like himself. He could not remain idle, and he began to long for +new adventures. He had seen life in Europe and Asia, and now his +thoughts were turned toward America. But little was then known of +that country, and many strange and exciting stories were told +about it. Now and then sailors had visited it; and when they came +back they reported that the earth was full of gold and precious +stones, and that the rivers ran over golden sands. + +James I., who was King of England at that time, gave the right to +Sir Thomas Gates and others to form a settlement in the New +World; and in December, 1606, three small vessels set sail for +the shores of America. John Smith was on board one of the +vessels. The ships, with one hundred and five men in them, +crossed the ocean in safety, and reached the West India Islands. +They then sailed northward along the coast of Florida and the +Carolinas, looking for a good harbor. + +When they reached the mouth of Chesapeake Bay they were tossed by +a terrible storm' but managed to sail into a harbor without being +wrecked. This was in April, 1607, and some time was spent in +looking for a place to make a settlement. Before them was a broad +river, which was called Powhatan by the Indians, and this they +sailed up, delighted with the beautiful prospect before them. + +Some Indians came down to the shore and stared at the ships as +they sailed by, but the settlers went on up the broad current +until they reached a sort of island close to the shore. Here, on +the 13th of May, 1607, the ships cast anchor, and here a +settlement was made, and was called, in honor of the king, +Jamestown. To-day there is nothing to mark the spot, except an +old ruined church. + +King James had not told any one the names of the men who were to +rule over the settlement. The paper containing their names was +sealed up in a box which was not to be opened until the ships +reached the end of their voyage. But the time had now come: the +box was opened, and the name of John Smith was found among those +who were to be councilors. + +The colonists soon saw that Smith had more sense and energy than +all the rest. He was the real leader. Nobody had any respect for +the councilors, who were a poor set at the best. They passed +their time in eating and drinking and idleness. They had seen +little of the Indians, and very foolishly seemed to care nothing +about them. Besides this, but very little was done toward raising +corn for food. Smith knew that the woods were full of Indians, +and also that the food in the ships would not last always. He, +therefore, set out with a few men to visit the king of the Indian +tribes, who lived some distance farther up the river. + +The name of the Indian king was Powhatan, and he ruled over all +the Indians in eastern Virginia. He received Captain Smith with +great show of kindness, and the two talked together by means of +signs; but Smith saw at once that he had a cunning enemy to deal +with. + +Having finished his visit, Captain Smith and his men rowed back +down the river; but when they reached Jamestown they found that +some Indians had made an attack upon the place. No doubt but +that Powhatan had sent them as soon as he knew that Smith was not +there. One of the settlers had been killed by an arrow, and +several had been wounded. But a cannon shot had been fired from +one of the ships, and as it crashed through the woods the +frightened Indians fled and did not return. + +IV. + +King James had ordered that the country of Virginia should be +explored, and in the fall, Smith, with a few men, set out for +this purpose. As they were rowing up the Chickehominy River some +Indians came down to the bank and made signs of friendship. They +told Smith that if he wanted a smaller boat to go up higher they +would give him one, and also guides to show him the way. + +Smith accepted the offer, and the canoe was brought. He got into +it with one of his men and some Indians; and then, ordering the +rest of his men not to leave the big boat nor to go ashore during +his absence, he set off in his canoe to explore the river higher +up. He was hardly out of sight when the men disobeyed him and +went on shore. The Indians attacked them suddenly, driving them +back to the boat, and taking one of them prisoner. Then they +hastened up the river after Smith. + +They soon overtook him; for, after going some distance, he had +stopped and landed, and, taking one of the Indian guides with +him, he had set out on foot to look at the country. + +He was going through the woods with his guide when a flight of +arrows came from behind some trees, and the Indians rushed upon +him. He was, indeed, in great danger. He fired his gun at the +Indians, and this frightened them so much that he might have +escaped had he not run into a swamp. The ground was so soft that +before he knew it he sank to his waist. The Indians then rushed +quickly upon him and took him prisoner. + +Things now seemed hopeless. He was in the hands of his enemies, +and had very little doubt that they would put him to death. He +tried what he could do with their chief. It chanced that he had a +small pocket compass with him, and this he explained to the +chief, and made a present of it to him. By this means he gained +some time, and also the favor of the chief. When, at last, the +warriors bound him to a tree and bent their bows to shoot him, +the chief came forward, waving the compass, and ordered them +to stop. + +After this he was carried through many Indian villages, and was +at last led before Powhatan, their king. His case was soon +decided. The Indians hated the whites, and now that they had +their leader in their hands they resolved to put him to death. A +large stone was brought in and Smith's head was laid upon it. +Then, at an order from the king, a tall savage raised a club to +beat out his brains. In a moment the club would have fallen, and +Smith would have died; but a kind Providence watched over him. + +An Indian girl, twelve or thirteen years old, sprang toward him. +From her dress, it was plain that she was a princess. The large +feather in her black hair was like that worn by Powhatan, and her +moccasins were embroidered like the old king's. On her arms were +bracelets of shells, and from her shoulders fell a robe of +doeskin, covered with the feathers of birds, and lined with down +from the breasts of wild pigeons. + +This girl was Pocahontas, the favorite daughter of the old king. +She was filled with pity for the poor prisoner, and ran and threw +her arms about him, looking up to her father as she did so. The +heavy club did not fall. The blow would have killed Pocahontas, +as Smith's head was clasped to her breast; and Powhatan ordered +that the prisoner's life should be spared. He was, therefore, +unbound, and Powhatan soon showed him that he had nothing to +fear. In a few days he was allowed to go back to Jamestown. + +Captain Smith had many other adventures while he was in Virginia, +but at last a painful accident changed all his plans. As he was +rowing down James River one day some powder in his boat took +fire, and he was terribly burned. His clothes were all in flames, +and he jumped into the water in order to put out the fire. But he +was so overcome by the pain that he could not swim, and he was +almost drowned before his men could help him back into the boat. + +There was no surgeon in Jamestown to dress his wounds, and he +made up his mind to go to England and find one. A ship was about +ready to sail, and he at once took passage for home. + +That was the last that was seen of John Smith in Virginia. He had +come over in the spring of 1607, and he went back in the autumn +of 1609. It seems a very short time--not three years in all; but +in this time he had laid, broad and deep, the foundations of the +Commonwealth of Virginia. + +--From "Stories of the Old Dominion." + +DEFINITIONS:--Venison, the flesh of deer. Ducats, gold coins +worth nearly seven dollars each. Tymor, a Turkish officer. Flail, +a wooden club used for beating out grains + + +EXERCISE.--On the map trace John Smith's various journeys in +Europe. Find England, Holland, the English Channel, France, +Marseilles, the Mediterranean Sea, Rome, Nice, Egypt, Austria, +Transylvania, Turkey, Constantinople, Sea of Azov, Russia, Paris, +Spain, London. Trace the course of John Smith's first voyage to +America. Find the West Indies, Florida, the Carolinas, Chesapeake +Bay, James River, Chickahominy River. + + + +ON THE BANKS OF THE TENNESSEE. + +BY WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER. + +I sit by the open window, + And look to the hills away, +Over beautiful undulations + That glow with the flowers of May; +And as the lights and the shadows + With the passing moments change, +Comes many a scene of beauty + Within my vision's range. +But there is not one among them + That is half so dear to me +As an old log cabin I think of, + On the banks of the Tennessee. + +Now up from the rolling meadows, + And down from the hilltops now, +Fresh breezes steal in at my window, + And sweetly fan my brow; +And the sounds that they gather and bring me. + From rivulet, meadow, and hill, +Come in with a touching cadence, + And my throbbing bosom fill; +But the dearest thoughts thus wakened, + And in tears brought back to me, +Cluster 'round that old log cabin + On the banks of the Tennessee. + +To many a fond remembrance + My thoughts are backward cast, +As I sit by the open window + And recall the faded past; +For all along the windings + Of the ever moving years +Lie wrecks of hope and of purpose, + That I now behold through tears; +And, of all of them, the saddest + That is thus brought back to me +Makes holy that old log cabin + On the banks of the Tennessee. + +Glad voices now greet me daily, + Sweet faces I oft behold, +Yet I sit by the open window, + And dream of the times of old-- +Of a voice that on earth is silent, + Of a face that is seen no more, +Of a spirit that faltered not ever + In the struggles of days now o'er; +And a beautiful grave comes pictured + For ever and ever to me, +From a knoll near that old log cabin + On the banks of the Tennessee. + +DEFINITIONS:--Undulations, wavelike motion. Rivulet, a small +stream. Knoll, a round-topped hill of medium height. + +EXERCISE.--On the map, trace the course of the Tennessee +River. + + + +GOOD WILL. + +BY JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE. + +I suppose you all, my boys, are looking for some sort of success +in life; it is right that you should; but what are your notions +of success? To get rich as soon as possible, without regard to +the means by which your wealth is acquired? + +There is no true success in that: when you have gained millions, +you may yet be poorer than when you had nothing; and it is that +same reckless ambition which has brought many a bright and +capable boy, not to great estate at last, but to miserable +failure and disgrace; not to a palace, but to a prison. + +Wealth rightly got and rightly used, rational enjoyment, power, +fame,--these are all worthy objects of ambition; but they are not +the highest objects, and you may acquire them all without +achieving true success. But if, whatever you seek, you put good +will into all your actions, you are sure of the best success at +last; for whatever else you gain or miss, you are building up a +noble and beautiful character, which is not only the best of +possessions in this world, but also is about all you can expect +to take with you into the next. + +I say, good will in all your actions. You are not simply to be +kind and helpful to others; but, whatever you do, give honest, +earnest purpose to it. Thomas is put by his parents to learn a +business. But Thomas does not like to apply himself very closely. +"What's the use?" he says. "I'm not paid much, and I'm not going +to work much. I'll get along just as easily as I can, and have as +good times as I can." + +So he shirks his tasks; and instead of thinking about his +employer's interests, or his own self-improvement, gives his mind +to trifles,--often to evil things, which in their ruinous effects +upon his life are not trifles. As soon as he is free from his +daily duties, he is off with his companions, having what they +call a good time; his heart is with them even while his hands are +employed in the shop or store. + +He does nothing thoroughly well,--not at all for want of talent, +but solely for lack of good will. He is not preparing himself to +be one of those efficient clerks or workmen who are always in +demand, and who receive the highest wages. + +There is a class of people who are the pest of every +community--workmen who do not know their trade, men of business +ignorant of the first principles of business. They can never be +relied upon to do well anything they undertake. They are always +making blunders which other people have to suffer for, and which +react upon themselves. They are always getting out of employment, +and failing in business. + +To make up for what they lack in knowledge and thoroughness, they +often resort to trick and fraud, and become not merely +contemptible, but criminal. Thomas is preparing himself to be one +of this class. You cannot, boys, expect to raise a good crop from +evil seed. + +By Thomas's side works another boy, whom we will call James,--a +lad of only ordinary capacity, very likely. If Thomas and all the +other boys did their best, there would be but small chance for +James ever to become eminent. But he has something better than +talent: he brings good will to his work. Whatever he learns, he +learns so well that it becomes a part of himself. + +His employers find that they can depend upon him. Customers soon +learn to like and trust him. By diligence, self-culture, good +habits, cheerful and kindly conduct, he is laying the foundation +of a generous manhood and a genuine success. + +In short, boys, by slighting your tasks you hurt yourself more +than you wrong your employer. By honest service you benefit +yourself more than you help him. If you were aiming at mere +worldly advancement only, I should still say that good will was +the very best investment you could make in business. + +By cheating a customer, you gain only a temporary and unreal +advantage. By serving him with right good will,--doing by him as +you would be done by,--you not only secure his confidence, but +also his good will in return. But this is a sordid consideration +conspired with the inward satisfaction, the glow and expansion of +soul which attend a good action done for itself alone. If I were +to sum up all I have to say to you in one last word of love and +counsel, that one word should be--Good will. + +DEFINITIONS:--Character, the sum of qualities which distinguishes +one person from another. Purpose, intention, aim. Principles, +fixed rules. Capacity, ability, the power of receiving ideas. +Sordid, base, meanly avaricious. + +EXERCISE.--What is meant by the phrase "to apply himself," in the +fourth paragraph? What is meant by "a generous manhood," tenth +paragraph? By "expansion of soul," twelfth paragraph? Tell what +is meant by "good will," as taught by this lesson. + + + +THE GOOD READER. + +It is told of Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, that, as he +was seated one day in his private room, a written petition was +brought to him with the request that it should be immediately +read. The king had just returned from hunting, and the glare of +the sun, or some other cause, had so dazzled his eyes that he +found it difficult to make out a single word of the writing. + +His private secretary happened to be absent, and the soldier who +brought the petition could not read. There was a page, or +favorite boy-servant, waiting in the hall, and upon him the king +called. The page was a son of one of the noblemen of the court, +but proved to be a very poor reader. + +In the first place, he did not articulate distinctly. He huddled +his words together in the utterance, as if they were syllables of +one long word, which he must get through with as speedily as +possible. His pronunciation was bad, and he did not modulate his +voice so as to bring out the meaning of what he read. Every +sentence was uttered with a dismal monotony of voice, as if it +did not differ in any respect from that which preceded it. + +"Stop!" said the king, impatiently. "Is it an auctioneer's list +of goods to be sold that you are hurrying over? Send your +companion to me." Another page who stood at the door now entered, +and to him the king gave the petition. The second page began by +hemming and clearing his throat in such an affected manner that +the king jokingly asked him if he had not slept in the public +garden, with the gate open, the night before. + +The second page had a good share of self-conceit, however, and so +was not greatly confused by the king's jest. He determined that +he would avoid the mistake which his comrade had made. So he +commenced reading the petition slowly and with great formality, +emphasizing every word, and prolonging the articulation of every +syllable. But his manner was so tedious that the king cried out, +"Stop! are you reciting a lesson in the elementary sounds? Out +of the room! But no--stay! Send me that little girl who is +sitting there by the fountain." + +The girl thus pointed out by the king was a daughter of one of +the laborers employed by the royal gardener; and she had come to +help her father weed the flower beds. It chanced that, like many +of the poor people in Prussia, she had received a good education. +She was somewhat alarmed when she found herself in the king's +presence, but took courage when the king told her that he only +wanted her to read for him, as his eyes were weak. + +Now, Ernestine (for this was the name of the little girl) was +fond of reading aloud, and often many of the neighbors would +assemble at her father's house to hear her; those who could not +read themselves would come to her, also, with their letters from +distant friends or children, and she thus formed the habit of +reading various sorts of handwriting promptly and well. + +The king gave her the petition, and she rapidly glanced through +the opening lines to get some idea of what it was about. As she +read, her eyes began to glisten and her breast to heave. "What is +the matter?" asked the king; "don't you know how to read?" "Oh, +yes, sire" she replied, addressing him with the title usually +applied to him; "I will now read it, if you please." + +The two pages were about to leave the room. "Remain," said the +king. The little girl began to read the petition. It was from a +poor widow, whose only son had been drafted to serve in the army, +although his health was delicate and his pursuits had been such +as to unfit him for military life. His father had been killed in +battle, and the son had a strong desire to become a portrait +painter. + +The writer told her story in a simple, concise manner, that +carried to the heart a belief of its truth: and Ernestine read it +with so much feeling, and with an articulation so just, in tones +so pure and distinct, that when she had finished, the king, into +whose eyes the tears had started, exclaimed, "Oh! now I +understand what it is all about; but I might never have known, +certainly I never should have felt, its meaning had I trusted to +these young gentlemen, whom I now dismiss from my service for one +year, advising them to occupy the time in learning to read." + +"As for you, my young lady," continued the king, "I know you will +ask no better reward for your trouble than the pleasure of +carrying to this poor widow my order for her son's immediate +discharge. Let me see if you can write as well as you can read. +Take this pen, and write as I dictate." He then dictated an +order, which Ernestine wrote, and he signed. Calling one of his +guards, he bade him go with the girl and see that the order was +obeyed. + +How much happiness was Ernestine the means of bestowing through +her good elocution, united to the happy circumstance that brought +it to the knowledge of the king! First there were her poor +neighbors, to whom she could give instruction and entertainment. +Then there was the poor widow who sent the petition, and who not +only regained her son, but received through Ernestine an order +for him to paint the king's likeness; so that the poor boy soon +rose to great distinction, and had more orders than he could +attend to. Words could not express his gratitude, and that of his +mother, to the little girl. + +And Ernestine had, moreover, the satisfaction of aiding her +father to rise in the world, so that he became the king's chief +gardener. The king did not forget her, but had her well educated +at his own expense. As for the two pages, she was indirectly the +means of doing them good, also; for, ashamed of their bad +reading, they commenced studying in earnest, till they overcame +the faults that had offended the king. Both finally rose to +distinction; and they owed their advancement in life chiefly to +their good elocution. + +DEFINITIONS:--Petition, a formal request. Articulate, to utter +the elementary sounds. Modulate, to vary or inflect. Monotony, +lack of variety. Affected, unnatural and silly. + + + +A LEGEND OF BREGENZ. + +BY ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER. + +Girt round with rugged mountains + The fair Lake Constance lies; +In her blue heart reflected, + Shine back the starry skies; + +And, watching each white cloudlet + Float silently and slow, +You think a piece of Heaven + Lies on our earth below! + +Midnight is there: and Silence, + Enthroned in Heaven, looks down +Upon her own calm mirror, + Upon a sleeping town: + +For Bregenz, that quaint city + Upon the Tyrol shore, +Has stood above Lake Constance + A thousand years and more. + +Her battlements and towers, + From off their rocky steep, +Have cast their trembling shadow + For ages on the deep. + +Mountain and lake and valley + A sacred legend know, +Of how the town was saved one night + Three hundred years ago. + +Far from her home and kindred + A Tyrol maid had fled, +To serve in the Swiss valleys, + And toil for daily bread; + +And every year that fleeted + So silently and fast +Seemed to bear farther from her + The memory of the Past. + +She spoke no more of Bregenz + With longing and with tears; +Her Tyrol home seemed faded + In a deep mist of years; + +Yet, when her master's children + Would clustering round her stand +She sang them ancient ballads + Of her own native land; + +And when at morn and evening + She knelt before God's throne, +The accents of her childhood + Rose to her lips alone. + +And so she dwelt: the valley + More peaceful year by year; +When suddenly strange portents + Of some great deed seemed near. + +One day, out in the meadow, + With strangers from the town +Some secret plan discussing, + The men walked up and down. + +At eve they all assembled; + Then care and doubt were fled; +With jovial laugh they feasted: + The board was nobly spread. + +The elder of the village + Rose up, his glass in hand, +And cried, "We drink the downfall + Of an accursed land! + +"The night is growing darker; + Ere one more day is flown, +Bregenz, our foeman's stronghold, + Bregenz shall be our own!" + +The women shrank in terror + (Yet Pride, too, had her part), +But one poor Tyrol maiden + Felt death within her heart. + +Nothing she heard around her + (Though shouts rang forth again); +Gone were the green Swiss valleys, + The pasture and the plain; + +Before her eyes one vision, + And in her heart one cry +That said, "Go forth! save Bregenz, + And then, if need be, die!" + +With trembling haste and breathless, + With noiseless step she sped; +Horses and weary cattle + Were standing in the shed; + +She loosed the strong white charger + That fed from out her hand; +She mounted, and she turned his head + Toward her native land. + +Out--out into the darkness-- + Faster, and still more fast;-- +The smooth grass flies behind her, + The chestnut wood is past; + +She looks up; clouds are heavy; + Why is her steed so slow?-- +Scarcely the wind beside them + Can pass them as they go. + +"Faster!" she cries, "oh, faster!" + Eleven the church bells chime; +"O God," she cries, "help Bregenz, + And bring me there in time!" + +But louder than bells' ringing, + Or lowing of the kine, +Grows nearer in the midnight + The rushing of the Rhine. + +She strives to pierce the blackness, + And looser throws the rein; +Her steed must breast the waters + That dash above his mane. + +How gallantly, how nobly, + He struggles through the foam! +And see--in the far distance + Shine out the lights of home! + +Up the steep bank he bears her, + And now they rush again +Toward the heights of Bregenz + That tower above the plain. + +They reach the gates of Bregenz + Just as the midnight rings, +And out come serf and soldier + To meet the news she brings. + +Bregenz is saved! Ere daylight + Her battlements are manned; +Defiance greets the army + That marches on the land. + +Three hundred years are vanished, + And yet upon the hill +An old stone gateway rises + To do her honor still. + +And there, when Bregenz women + Sit spinning in the shade, +They see in quaint old carving + The Charger and the Maid. + +And when, to guard old Bregenz + By gateway, street, and tower, +The warder paces all night long + And calls each passing hour, + +"Nine," "ten," "eleven," he cries aloud, + And then (oh, crown of fame!), +When midnight pauses in the skies, + He calls the maiden's name! + +DEFINITIONS:--Fleeted, passed quickly. Portents, signs, +indications. Jovial, joyful, gladsome. Board, dinner table. +Charger, a horse for battle or parade. Serf, slave, serving man. + +EXERCISE.--On the map of Europe, find Lake Constance, Tyrol, +Bregenz. What are the mountains called which surround Lake +Constance? Where is the Rhine? + + + +THE GOLDEN TOUCH. + +BY NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. + +I. + +Once upon a time, there lived a very rich man, and a king +besides, whose name was Midas; and he had a little daughter, whom +nobody but myself ever heard of, and whose name I either never +knew, or have entirely forgotten. So, because I love odd names +for little girls, I choose to call her Marygold. + +This King Midas was fonder of gold than of anything else in the +world. He valued his royal crown chiefly because it was composed +of that precious metal. If he loved anything better, or half so +well, it was the one little maiden who played so merrily around +her father's footstool. But the more Midas loved his daughter, +the more did he desire and seek for wealth. He thought, foolish +man! that the best thing he could possibly do for this dear child +would be to bequeath her the largest pile of glistening coin that +had ever been heaped together since the world was made. + +Thus he gave all his thoughts and all his time to this one +purpose. If ever he happened to gaze for an instant at the +gold-tinted clouds of sunset, he wished that they were real gold, +and that they could be squeezed safely into his strong box. When +little Marygold ran to meet him, with a bunch of buttercups and +dandelions, he used to say, "Pooh, pooh, child! If these flowers +were as golden as they look, they would be worth the plucking!" + +At length (as people always grow more and more foolish, unless +they take care to grow wiser and wiser) Midas had got to be so +exceedingly unreasonable, that he could scarcely bear to see or +touch any object that was not gold. He made it his custom, +therefore, to pass a large portion of every day in a dark and +dreary apartment, under ground, at the basement of his palace. It +was here that he kept his wealth. To this dismal hole--for it was +little better than a dungeon--Midas betook himself, whenever he +wanted to be particularly happy. + +Here, after carefully locking the door, he would take a bag of +gold coin, or a gold cup as big as a washbowl, or a heavy golden +bar, or a peck measure of gold dust, and bring them from the +obscure corners of the room into the one bright and narrow +sunbeam that fell from the dungeonlike window. He valued the +sunbeam for no other reason but that his treasure would not shine +without its help. + +And then would he reckon over the coins in the bag; toss up the +bar, and catch it as it came down; sift the gold dust through his +fingers;` look at the funny image of his own face, as reflected +in the burnished circumference of the cup; and whisper to +himself, "O Midas, rich King Midas, what a happy man art thou!" + +II. + +Midas was enjoying himself in his treasure room, one day, as +usual, when he perceived a shadow fall over the heaps of gold; +and, looking up, he beheld the figure of a stranger, standing in +the bright and narrow sunbeam! It was a young man, with a +cheerful and ruddy face. + +Whether it was that the imagination of King Midas threw a yellow +tinge over everything, or whatever the cause might be, he could +not help fancying that the smile with which the stranger regarded +him had a kind of golden brightness in it. Certainly, there was +now a brighter gleam upon all the piled-up treasures than before. +Even the remotest corners had their share of it, and were lighted +up, when the stranger smiled, as with tips of flame and sparkles +of fire. + +As Midas knew that he had carefully turned the key in the lock, +and that no mortal strength could possibly break into his +treasure room, he, of course, concluded that his visitor must be +something more than mortal. + +Midas had met such beings before now, and was not sorry to meet +one of them again. The stranger's aspect, indeed, was so +good-humored and kindly, if not beneficent, that it would have +been unreasonable to suspect him of intending any mischief. It +was far more probable that he came to do Midas a favor. And what +could that favor be, unless to multiply his heaps of treasure? + +The stranger gazed about the room; and, when his lustrous smile +had glistened upon all the golden objects that were there, he +turned again to Midas. + +"You are a wealthy man, friend Midas!" he observed. "I doubt +whether any other four walls on earth contain so much gold as you +have contrived to pile up in this room." + +"I have done pretty well,--pretty well," answered Midas, in a +discontented tone. "But, after all, it is but a trifle, when you +consider that it has taken me my whole lifetime to get it +together. If one could live a thousand years, he might have time +to grow rich!" + +"What!" exclaimed the stranger. "Then you are not satisfied?" + +Midas shook his head. + +"And pray, what would satisfy you?" asked the stranger. "Merely +for the curiosity of the thing, I should be glad to know." + +Why did the stranger ask this question? Did he have it in his +power to gratify the king's wishes? It was an odd question, to +say the least. + +III. + +Midas paused and meditated. He felt sure that this stranger, with +such a golden luster in his good-humored smile, had come hither +with both the power and the purpose of gratifying his utmost +wishes. Now, therefore, was the fortunate moment, when he had but +to speak, and obtain whatever possible, or seemingly impossible +thing, it might come into his head to ask. So he thought, and +thought, and thought, and heaped up one golden mountain upon +another, in his imagination, without being able to imagine them +big enough. + +At last a bright idea occurred to King Midas. + +Raising his head, he looked the lustrous stranger in the face. + +"Well, Midas," observed his visitor, "I see that you have at +length hit upon something that will satisfy you. Tell me your +wish." + +"It is only this," replied Midas. "I am weary of collecting my +treasures with so much trouble, and beholding the heap so +diminutive, after I have done my best. I wish everything that I +touch to be changed to gold!" + +The stranger's smile grew so bright and radiant, that it seemed +to fill the room like an outburst of the sun, gleaming into a +shadowy dell, where the yellow autumnal leaves--for so looked the +lumps and particles of gold--lie strewn in the glow of light. + +"The Golden Touch!" exclaimed he. "You certainly deserve credit, +friend Midas, for striking out so brilliant a fancy. But are you +quite sure that this will satisfy you?" + +"How could it fail?" said Midas. + +"And will you never regret the possession of it?" + +"What could induce me?" asked Midas. "I ask nothing else, to +render me perfectly happy." + +"Be it as you wish, then," replied the stranger, waving his hand +in token of farewell. "To-morrow, at sunrise, you will find +yourself gifted with the Golden Touch." + +The figure of the stranger then became exceedingly bright, and +Midas involuntarily closed his eyes. On opening them again, he +beheld only one yellow sunbeam in the room, and, all around him, +the glistening of the precious metal which he had spent his +life in hoarding up. + +IV. + +Whether Midas slept as usual that night, the story does not say. +But when the earliest sunbeam shone through the window, and +gilded the ceiling over his head, it seemed to him that this +bright yellow sunbeam was reflected in rather a singular way on +the white coverimg of the bed. Looking more closely, what was his +astonishment and delight, when he found that this linen fabric +had been transmuted to what seemed a woven texture of the purest +and brightest gold! The Golden Touch had come to him with the +first sunbeam! + +Midas started up, in a kind of joyful frenzy, and ran about the +room, grasping at everything that happened to be in his way. He +seized one of the bedposts, and it became immediately a fluted +golden pillar. He pulled aside a window curtain in order to admit +a clear spectacle of the wonders which he was performing, and the +tassel grew heavy in his hand, a mass of gold. He took up a book +from the table; at his first touch, it assumed the appearance of +such a splendidly bound and gilt-edged volume as one often meets +with nowadays; but on running his fingers through the leaves, +behold! it was a bundle of thin golden plates, in which all the +wisdom of the book had grown illegible. + +He hurriedly put on his clothes, and was enraptured to see +himself in a magnificent suit of gold cloth, which retained its +flexibility and softness,although it burdened him a little with +its weight. He drew out his handkerchief, which little Marygold +had hemmed for him; that was likewise gold, with the dear child's +neat and pretty stitches running all along the border, in gold +thread! + +Somehow or other, this last transformation did not quite please +King Midas. He would rather that his little daughter's handiwork +should have remained just the same as when she climbed his knee +and put it into his hand. + +But it was not worth while to vex himself about a trifle. Midas +took his spectacles from his pocket, and put them on his nose, in +order that he might see more distinctly what he was about. In +those days, spectacles for common people had not been invented, +but were already worn by kings; else, how could Midas have had +any? To his great perplexity; however, excellent as the glasses +were, he discovered that he could not possibly see through them. +But this was the most natural thing in the world; for, on taking +them off, the transparent crystals turned out to be plates of +yellow metal, and, of course, were worthless as spectacles, +though valuable as gold. It struck Midas as rather inconvenient, +that, with all his wealth, he could never again be rich enough to +own a pair of serviceable spectacles. + +"It is no great matter, nevertheless," said he to himself, very +philosophically. "We cannot expect any great good, without its +being accompanied with some small inconvenience. The Golden Touch +is worth the sacrifice of a pair of spectacles at least, if +not of one's very eyesight. My own eyes will serve for ordinary +purposes, and little Marygold will soon be old enough to read to +me." + +V. + +Wise King Midas was so exalted by his good fortune, that the +palace seemed not sufficiently spacious to contain him. He +therefore went downstairs, and smiled on observing that the +balustrade of the staircase became a bar of burnished gold, as +his hand passed over it, in his descent. He lifted the door-latch +(it was brass only a moment ago, but golden when his fingers +quitted it), and emerged into the garden. Here, as it happened, +he found a great number of beautiful roses in full bloom, and +others in all the stages of lovely bud and blossom. Very +delicious was their fragrance in the morning breeze. Their +delicate blush was one of the fairest sights in the world; so +gentle, so modest, and so full of sweet soothing, did these roses +seem to be. + +But Midas knew a way to make them far more precious, according to +his way of thinking, than roses had ever been before. So he took +great pains in going from bush to bush, and exercised his magic +touch most untiringly; until every individual flower and bud, and +even the worms at the heart of some of them, were changed to +gold. By the time this good work was completed, King Midas was +summoned to breakfast; and as the morning air had given him an +excellent appetite, he made haste back to the palace. + +What was usually a king's breakfast in the days of Midas, I +really do not know, and cannot stop now to investigate. To the +best of my knowledge, however, on this particular morning, the +breakfast consisted of hot cakes, some nice little brook trout, +roasted potatoes, fresh boiled eggs, and coffee for King Midas +himself, and a bowl of bread and milk for his daughter Marygold. + +Little Marygold had not yet made her appearance. Her father +ordered her to be called, and seating himself at table, awaited +the child's coming, in order to begin his own breakfast. To do +Midas justice, he really loved his daughter, and loved her so +much the more this morning, on account of the good fortune which +had befallen him. It was not a great while before he heard her +coming along the passage, crying bitterly. This circumstance +surprised him, because Marygold was one of the most cheerful +little people whom you would see in a summer's day, and hardly +shed a tear in a twelvemonth. + +When Midas heard her sobs, he determined to put little Marygold +into better spirits by an agreeable surprise; so, leaning across +the table, he touched his danghter's bowl (which was a china one, +with pretty figures all around it), and changed it into gleaming +gold. + +Meanwhile, Marygold slowly and sadly opened the door, and showed +herself with her apron at her eyes, still sobbing as if her heart +would break. + +"How now, my little lady!" cried Midas. "Pray, what is the matter +with you, this bright morning?" + +Marygold, without taking the apron from her eyes, held out her +hand, in which was one of the roses which Midas had so recently +changed into gold. + +"Beautiful!" exclaimed her father. "And what is there in this +magnificent golden rose to make you cry?" + +"Ah, dear father!" answered the child, between her sobs, "it is +not beautiful, but the ugliest flower that ever grew! As soon as +I was dressed, I ran into the garden to gather some roses for +you; because I know you like them, and like them the better when +gathered by your little daughter. But oh, dear, dear me! What do +you think has happened? Such a sad thing! All the beautiful +roses, that smelled so sweetly, and had so many lovely blushes, +are blighted and spoilt! They are grown quite yellow, as you see +this one, and have no longer any fragrance! What can have been +the matter with them?" + +"Pooh, my dear little girl,--pray don't cry about it!" said +Midas, who was ashamed to confess that he himself had wrought the +change which so greatly afflicted her. "Sit down, and eat your +bread and milk. You will find it easy enough to exchange a golden +rose like that (which will last hundreds of years), for an +ordinary one which would wither in a day." + +"I don't care for such roses as this!" cried Marygold, tossing +it contemptuously away. "It has no smell, and the hard petals +prick my nose!" + +The child now sat down to table, but was so occupied with her +grief for blighted roses that she did not even notice the +wonderful change in her china bowl. Perhaps this was all the +better; for Marygold was accustomed to take pleasure in looking +at the queer figures and strange trees and houses that were +painted on the outside of the bowl; and those ornaments were now +entirely lost in the yellow hue of the metal. + +VI. + +Midas, meanwhile, had poured out a cup of coffee; and, as a +matter of course, the coffeepot, whatever metal it may have been +when he took it up, was gold when he set it down. He thought to +himself that it was rather an extravagant style of splendor, in a +king of his simple habits, to breakfast off a service of gold, +and began to be puzzled with the difficulty of keeping his +treasures safe. The cupboard and the kitchen would no longer be a +secure place of deposit for articles so valuable as golden bowls +and golden coffeepots. + +Amid these thoughts, he lifted a spoonful of coffee to his lips, +and, sipping it, was astonished to perceive that the instant his +lips touched the liquid it became molten gold, and the next +moment, hardened into a lump! + +"Ha!" exclaimed Midas, rather aghast. + +"What is the matter, father?" asked little Marygold, gazing at +him, with the tears still standing in her eyes. + +"Nothing, child, nothing!" said Midas. "Take your milk before it +gets quite cold." + +He took one of the nice little trouts on his plate, and touched +its tail with his finger. To his horror, it was immediately +changed from a brook trout into a gold fish, and looked as if it +had been very cunningly made by the nicest goldsmith in the +world. Its little bones were now golden wires; its fins and tail +were thin plates of gold; and there were the marks of the fork in +it, and all the delicate, frothy appearance of a nicely fried +fish, exactly imitated in metal. + +"I don't quite see," thought he to himself, "how I am to get any +breakfast!" + +He took one of the smoking-hot cakes, and had scarcely broken it, +when, to his cruel mortification, though a moment before, it had +been of the whitest wheat, it assumed the yellow hue of Indian +meal. Its solidity and increased weight made him too bitterly +sensible that it was gold. Almost in despair, he helped himself +to a boiled egg, which immediately underwent a change similar to +that of the trout and the cake. + +"Well, this is terrible!" thought he, leaning back in his chair, +and looking quite enviously at little Marygold, who was now +eating her bread and milk with great satisfaction. "Such a costly +breakfast before me, and nothing that can be eaten!" + +VII. + +Hoping that, by dint of great dispatch, he might avoid what he +now felt to be a considerable inconvenience, King Midas next +snatched a hot potato, and attempted to cram it into his mouth, +and swallow it in a hurry. But the Golden Touch was too nimble +for him. He found his mouth full, not of mealy potato, but of +solid metal, which so burnt his tongue that he roared aloud, and, +jumping up from the table, began to dance and stamp about the +room, both with pain and affright. + +"Father, dear father!" cried little Marygold, who was a very +affectionate child, "pray what is the matter? Have you burnt your +mouth?" + +"Ah, dear child," groaned Midas, dolefully, "I don't know what is +to become of your poor father!" + +And, truly, did you ever hear of such a pitiable case, in all +your lives? Here was literally the richest breakfast that could +be set before a king, and its very richness made it absolutely +good for nothing. The poorest laborer, sitting down to his crust +of bread and cup of water, was far better off than King Midas, +whose delicate food was really worth its weight in gold. + +And what was to be done? Already, at breakfast, Midas was +excessively hungry. Would he be less so by dinner time? And how +ravenous would be his appetite for supper, which must undoubtedly +consist of the same sort of indigestible dishes as those now +before him! How many days, think you, would he survive a +continuance of this rich fare? + +These reflections so troubled wise King Midas, that he began to +doubt whether, after all, riches are the one desirable thing in +the world, or even the most desirable. But this was only a +passing thought. So fascinated was Midas with the glitter of the +yellow metal, that he would still have refused to give up the +Golden Touch for so paltry a consideration as a breakfast. Just +imagine what a price for one meal's victuals! It would have been +the same as paying millions and millions of money for some fried +trout, an egg, a potato, a hot cake, and a cup of coffee! + +"It would be much too dear," thought Midas. + +Nevertheless, so great was his hunger, and the perplexity of his +situation, that he again groaned aloud, and very grievously too. +Our pretty Marygold could endure it no longer. She sat a moment +gazing at her father, and trying, with all the might of her +little wits, to find out what was the matter with him. Then, with +a sweet and sorrowful impulse to comfort him, she started from +her chair, and, running to Midas, threw her arms affectionately +about his knees. He bent down and kissed her. He felt that his +little daughter's love was worth a thousand times more than he +had gained by the Golden Touch. + +"My precious, precious Marygold!" cried he. + +But Marygold made no answer. + +VIII. + +Alas, what had King Midas done? How fatal was the gift which the +stranger had bestowed! The moment the lips of Midas touched +Marygold's forehead, a change had taken place. Her sweet, rosy +face, so full of affection as it had been, assumed a glittering +yellow color, with yellow tear-drops congealing on her cheeks. +Her beautiful brown ringlets took the same tint. Her soft and +tender little form grew hard and inflexible within her father's +encircling arms. O terrible misfortune! The victim of his +insatiable desire for wealth, little Marygold was a human child +no longer, but a golden statue! + +Yes, there she was, with the questioning look of love, grief, and +pity, hardened into her face. It was the prettiest and most +woeful sight that ever mortal saw. All the features and tokens of +Marygold were there; even the beloved little dimple remained in +her golden chin. But, the more perfect was the resemblance, the +greater was the father's agony at beholding this golden image, +which was all that was left him of a daughter. + +It had been a favorite phrase of Midas, whenever he felt +particularly fond of the child, to say that she was worth her +weight in gold. And now the phrase had become literally true. +And, now, at last, when it was too late, he felt how infinitely a +warm and tender heart, that loved him, exceeded in value all the +wealth that could be piled up betwixt the earth and sky! + +It would be too sad a story, if I were to tell you how Midas, in +the fullness of all his gratified desires, began to wring his +hands and bemoan himself; and how he could neither bear to look +at Marygold, nor yet to look away from her. Except when his eyes +were fixed on the image, he could not possibly believe that she +was changed to gold. But, stealing another glance, there was the +precious little figure, with a yellow tear-drop on its yellow +cheek, and a look so piteous and tender, that it seemed as if +that very expression must needs soften the gold, and make it +flesh again. This, however, could not be. So Midas had only to +wring his hands, and to wish that he were the poorest man in the +wide world, if the loss of all his wealth might bring back the +faintest rose-color to his dear child's face. + +IX. + +While he was in this tumult of despair, he suddenly beheld a +stranger, standing near the door. Midas bent down his head, +without speaking; for he recognized the same figure which had +appeared to him the day before in the treasure room, and had +bestowed on him this disastrous power of the Golden Touch. The +stranger's countenance still wore a smile, which seemed to shed a +yellow luster all about the room, and gleamed on little +Marygold's image, and on the other objects that had been +transmuted by the touch of Midas. + +"Well, friend Midas," said the stranger, "pray, how do you +succeed with the Golden Touch?" + +Midas shook his head. + +"I am very miserable," said he. + +"Very miserable! indeed!" exclaimed the stranger; "and how +happens that? Have I not faithfully kept my promise with you? +Have you not everything that your heart desired?" + +"Gold is not everything," answered Midas. "And I have lost all +that my heart really cared for." + +"Ah! So you have made a discovery, since yesterday?" observed the +stranger. "Let us see, then. Which of these two things do you +think is really worth the most,--the gift of the Golden Touch, or +one cup of clear cold water?" + +"O blessed water!" exclaimed Midas. "It will never moisten my +parched throat again!" + +"The Golden Touch," continued the stranger, "or a crust of +bread?" + +"A piece of bread," answered Midas, "is worth all the gold on +earth!" + +"The Golden Touch," asked the stranger, "or your own little +Marygold, warm, soft, and loving, as she was an hour ago?" + +"O my child, my dear child!" cried poor King Midas, wringing his +hands. "I would not have given that one small dimple in her chin +for the power of changing this whole big earth into a solid lump +of gold!" + +"You are wiser than you were, King Midas?" said the stranger, +looking seriously at him. "Your own heart, I perceive, has not +been entirely changed from flesh to gold. Were it so, your case +would indeed be desperate. But you appear to be still capable of +understanding that the commonest things, such as lie within +everybody's grasp, are more valuable than the riches which so +many mortals sigh and struggle after. Tell me, now, do you +sincerely desire to rid yourself of this Golden Touch?" + +"It is hateful to me!" replied Midas. + +A fly settled on his nose, but immediately fell to the floor; for +it, too, had become gold. Midas shuddered. + +"Go, then," said the stranger, "and plunge into the river that +glides past the bottom of your garden. Take likewise a vase of +the same water, and sprinkle it over any object that you may +desire to change back again from gold into its former substance. +If you do this in earnestness and sincerity, it may possibly +repair the mischief which your avarice has occasioned." + +King Midas bowed low; and when he lifted his head, the lustrous +stranger had vanished. + +X. + +You will easily believe that Midas lost no time in snatching up a +great earthen pitcher (but, alas me! it was no longer earthen +after he touched it), and in hastening to the riverside. As he +ran along, and forced his way through the shrubbery, it was +positively marvelous to see how the foliage turned yellow behind +him, as if the autumn had been there, and nowhere else. On +reaching the river's brink, he plunged headlong in, without +waiting so much as to pull off his shoes. + +"Poof! poof! poof!" gasped King Midas, as his head emerged out of +the water. "Well; this is really a refreshing bath, and I think +it must have quite washed away the Golden Touch. And now for +filling my pitcher!" + +As he dipped the pitcher into the water, it gladdened his very +heart to see it change from gold into the same good, honest, +earthen vessel which it had been before he touched it. He was +conscious, also, of a change within himself. A cold, hard, and +heavy weight seemed to have gone out of his bosom. No doubt his +heart had been gradually losing its human substance, and been +changing into insensible metal, but had now been softened back +again into flesh. Perceiving a violet, that grew on the bank of +the river, Midas touched it with his finger, and was overjoyed to +find that the delicate flower retained its purple hue, instead of +undergoing a yellow blight. The curse of the Golden Touch had, +therefore, really been removed from him. + +XI. + +King Midas hastened back to the palace; and, I suppose, the +servants knew not what to make of it when they saw their royal +master so carefully bringing home an earthen pitcher of water. +But that water, which was to undo all the mischief that his +folly had wrought, was more precious to Midas than an ocean of +molten gold could have been. The first thing he did, as you need +hardly be told, was to sprinkle it by handfuls over the golden +figure of little Marygold. + +No sooner did it fall on her than you would have laughed to see +how the rosy color came back to the dear child's cheek!--and how +astonished she was to find herself dripping wet, and her father +still throwing more water over her! + +"Pray do not, dear father!" cried she. "See how you have wet my +nice frock, which I put on only this morning!" + +For Marygold did not know that she had been a little golden +statue; nor could she remember anything that had happened since +the moment when she ran with outstretched arms to comfort her +father. + +Her father did not think it necessary to tell his beloved child +how very foolish he had been, but contented himself with showing +how much wiser he had now grown. For this purpose, he led little +Marygold into the garden, where he sprinkled all the remainder of +the water over the rosebushes, and with such good effect that +above five thousand roses recovered their beautiful bloom. There +were two circumstances, however, which, as long as he lived, used +to remind King Midas of the Golden Touch. One was, that the sands +of the river in which he had bathed, sparkled like gold; the +other, that little Marygold's hair had now a golden tinge, which +he had never observed in it before she had been changed by the +effect of his kiss. This change of hue was really an improvement, +and made Marygold's hair richer than in her babyhood. + +When King Midas had grown quite an old man, and used to take +Marygold's children on his knee, he was fond of telling them this +marvelous story. And then would he stroke their glossy ringlets, +and tell them that their hair, likewise, had a rich shade of +gold, which they had inherited from their mother. + +"And, to tell you the truth, my precious little folks," said King +Midas, "ever since that morning, I have hated the very sight of +all other gold, save this!" + +--From "A Wonder Book for Boys and Girls." + + + +THE BROOK. + +BY ALFRED TENNISON. + +I come from haunts of coot and hern, + I make a sudden sally, +And sparkle out among the fern, + To bicker down a valley. + +By thirty hills I hurry down, + Or slip between the ridges, +By twenty thorps, a little town, + And half a hundred bridges. + +Till last by Philip's farm I flow + To join the brimming river; +For men may come, and men may go, + But I go on forever. + +I chatter over stony ways, + In little sharps and trebles; +I bubble into eddying bays, + I babble on the pebbles. + +With many a curve my banks I fret + By many a field and fallow, +And many a fairy foreland set + With willow-weed and mallow. + +I chatter, chatter, as I flow + To join the brimming river; +For men may come; and men may go, + But I go on forever. + +I wind about, and in and out, + With here a blossom sailing, +And here and there a lusty trout, + And here and there a grayling, + +And here and there a foamy flake + Upon me, as I travel, +With many a silvery waterbreak + Above the golden gravel, + +And draw them all along, and flow + To join the brimming river; +For men may come and men may go, + But I go on forever. + +I steal by lawns and grassy plots, + I slide by hazel covers; +I move the sweet forget-me-nots + That grow for happy lovers. + +I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, + Among my skimming swallows; +I make the netted sunbeam dance + Against my sandy shallows. + +I murmur under moon and stars + In brambly wildernesses; +I linger by my shingly bars, + I loiter round my cresses; + +And out again I curve and flow + To join the brimming river; +For men may come, and men may go, + But I go on forever. + +DEFINITIONS:--Coot, a kind of wild duck. Hern, a wading bird, +heron. Bicker, run with a quivering, tremulous motion. Thorps, +small villages. Foreland, headland. Shingly, gravelly. + + + +THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. + +And there followed him great multitudes of people from Galilee, +and from Decapolis, and from Jerusalem, and from Judea, and from +beyond Jordan. And seeing the multitudes, he went up into a +mountain: and when he was set, his disciples came unto him. + +And he opened his mouth, and taught them, saying: Blessed are the +poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are +they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the +meek: for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are they which do +hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled. + +Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed +are the pure in heart: for they shall see God. Blessed are the +peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God. +Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: +for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. + +Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and +shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. +Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in +heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before +you. + +Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his +savor, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for +nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men. + +Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill +cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a +bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that +are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they +may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in +heaven. + +Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I +am not come to destroy, but to fulfill. For verily I say unto +you, Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in +no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled. + +Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments, +and shall teach men so, he shall be called the least in the +kingdom of heaven: but whosoever shall do and teach them, the +same shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I say +unto you, That except your righteousness shall exceed the +righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case +enter into the kingdom of heaven. + +Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt +not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the +judgment: but I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his +brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment.... +Therefore if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there +rememberest that thy brother bath aught against thee; leave there +thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled to +thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift.... + +And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from +thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members +should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into +hell. And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it +from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members +should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into +hell.... + +Again, ye have heard that it hath been said by them of old time, +Thou shalt not forswear thyself, but shalt perform unto the Lord +thine oaths: but I say unto you, Swear not at all; neither by +heaven; for it is God's throne: nor by the earth; for it is his +footstool: neither by Jerusalem; for it is the city of the great +King. Neither shalt thou swear by thy head, because thou canst +not make one hair white or black. But let your communication be, +Yea, yea; Nay, nay: for whatsoever is more than these cometh +of evil. + +Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a +tooth for a tooth: but I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: +but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him +the other also. And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take +away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also. And whosoever shall +compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain. Give to him that +asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou +away. + +Ye have heard that it bath been said, Thou shalt love thy +neighbor, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your +enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate +you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute +you; that ye may be the children of your Father which is in +heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the +good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust. + +For if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? do not +even the publicans the same? And if ye salute your brethren only, +what do ye more than others? do not even the publicans so? Be ye +therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is +perfect. + +--Matthew, Chapter V. + +DEFINITIONS:--Revile, reproach, abuse. Tittle, the smallest part. +Scribes, those among the Jews who read and explained the law to +the people. Pharisees, a Jewish sect noted for its strict +observance of the law. + +EXERCISE.--Point out on the map, Galilee, Jerusalem, Judea, +Jordan, Capernaum. The mountain referred to in the first +paragraph was near Capernaum. Which paragraphs in this extract +are called "The Beatitudes"? Why? Look in the dictionary for the +meaning of the word "beatitude." + + +THE SONG OF STEAM. + +Harness me down with your iron bands, + Be sure of your curb and rein, +For I scorn the strength of your puny hands + As a tempest scorns a chain. +How I laughed as I lay concealed from sight, + For many a countless hour, +At the childish boasts of human might, + And the pride of human power! + +When I saw an army upon the land, + A navy upon the seas, +Creeping along, a snail-like band, + Or waiting the wayward breeze; +When I saw the peasant faintly reel, + With the toil which he faintly bore, +As constant he turned at the tardy wheel, + Or tugged at the weary oar; + +When I measured the panting courser's speed, + The flight of the carrier dove, +As they bore a law a king decreed, + Or the lines of impatient love; +I could not but think how the world would feel, + As these were outstripped far, +When I should be bound to the rushing keel, + Or chained to the flying car. + +Ha ha! ha ha! they found me at last, + They invited me forth at length; +And I rushed to my throne with a thunder-blast, + And laughed in my iron strength. +Oh then you saw a wonderous change + On earth and ocean wide, +Where now my fiery armies range, + Nor wait for wind nor tide. + +Hurrah! hurrah! the waters o'er + The mountain's steep declines +Time, space, have yielded to my power, + The world, the world is mine! +The rivers the sun has earliest blessed, + And those where his beams decline, +The giant streams of the queenly West, + And the Orient floods divine. + +In the darksome depths of the fathomless mine + My tireless arm doth play; +Where the rocks ne'er saw the sun's decline, + Or the dawn of the glorious day. +I bring earth's glittering jewels up + From the hidden cave below; +And I make the fountain's granite cup + With a crystal gush o'erflow. + +I blow the bellows, I forge the steel, + In all the shops of trade; +I hammer the ore, and turn the wheel + Where my arms of strength are made; +I manage the furnace, the mill, the mint; + I carry, I spin, I weave; +And all my doings I put into print, + On every Saturday eve. + +I've no muscle to weary, no frame to decay, + No bones to be laid on the shelf; +And soon I intend you shall go and play, + While I manage the world myself. +But harness me down with your iron bands, + Be sure of your curb and rein, +For I scorn the strength of your puny hands, + As the tempest scorns a chain. + + --G. W. CUTTER + + + +THE GENTLE HAND. + +BY TIMOTHY S. ARTHUR. + +When and where, it matters not now to relate--but once upon a +time, as I was passing through a thinly peopled district of +country, night came down upon me almost unawares. Being on foot, +I could not hope to gain the village toward which my steps were +directed until a late hour; and I therefore preferred seeking +shelter and a night's lodging at the first humble dwelling that +presented itself. + +Dusky twilight was giving place to deeper shadows, when I found +myself in the vicinity of a dwelling, from the small uncurtained +windows of which the light shone with a pleasant promise of good +cheer and comfort. The house stood within an inclosure, and a +short distance from the road along which I was moving with +wearied feet. + +Turning aside, and passing through the ill-hung gate, I +approached the dwelling. Slowly the gate swung on its wooden +hinges, and the rattle of its latch, in closing, did not disturb +the air until I had nearly reached the porch in front of the +house, in which a slender girl, who had noticed my entrance, +stood awaiting my arrival. + +A deep, quick bark answered, almost like an echo, the sound of +the shutting gate, and, sudden as an apparition, the form of an +immense dog loomed in the doorway. At the instant when he was +about to spring, a light hand was laid upon his shaggy neck, +and a low word spoken. + +"Go in, Tiger," said the girl, not in a voice of authority, yet +in her gentle tones was the consciousness that she would be +obeyed; and, as she spoke, she lightly bore upon the animal with +her hand, and he turned away and disappeared within the dwelling. + +"Who's that?" A rough voice asked the question; and now a heavy +looking man took the dog's place in the door. + +"How far is it to G----?" I asked, not deeming it best to say, in +the beginning, that I sought a resting-place for the night. + +"To G----!" growled the man, but not so harshly as at first. +"It's good six miles from here." + +"A long distance; and I'm a stranger, and on foot," said I. "If +you can make room for me until morning, I will be very thankful." + +I saw the girl's hand move quickly up his arm, until it rested on +his shoulder, and now she leaned to him still closer. + +"Come in. We'll try what can be done for you." There was a change +in the man's voice that made me wonder. I entered a large room, +in which blazed a brisk fire. Before the fire sat two stout lads, +who turned upon me their heavy eyes, with no very welcome +greeting. A middle-aged woman was standing at a table, and two +children were amusing themselves with a kitten on the floor. + +"A stranger, mother," said the man who had given me so rude a +greeting at the door; "and he wants us to let him stay all +night." + +The woman looked at me doubtingly for a few moments, and then +replied coldly, "We don't keep a public house." + +"I'm aware of that, ma'am," said I; "but night has overtaken me, +and it's a long way yet to G----." + +"Too far for a tired man to go on foot," said the master of the +house, kindly, "so it's no use talking about it, mother; we must +give him a bed." + +So unobtrusively that I scarce noticed the movement, the girl had +drawn to her mother's side. What she said to her I did not hear, +for the brief words were uttered in a low voice; but I noticed, +as she spoke, one small; fair hand rested on the woman's hand. + +Was there magic in that touch? The woman's repulsive aspect +changed into one of kindly welcome, and she said: "Yes, it's a +long way to G----. I guess we can find a place for him." + +Many times more during that evening, did I observe the magic +power of that hand and voice--the one gentle yet potent as the +other. On the next morning, breakfast being over, I was preparing +to take my departure when my host informed me that if I would +wait for half an hour he would give me a ride in his wagon to G-- +--, as business required him to go there. I was very well pleased +to accept of the invitation. + +In due time the farmer's wagon was driven into the road before +the house, and I was invited to get in. I noticed the horse as a +rough-looking Canadian pony, with a certain air of stubborn +endurance. As the farmer took his seat by my side, the family +came to the door to see us off. + +"Dick!" said the farmer in a peremptory voice, giving the rein a +quick jerk as he spoke. But Dick moved not a step. "Dick! you +vagabond! get up." And the farmer's whip cracked sharply by the +pony's ear. + +It availed not, however, this second appeal. Dick stood firmly +disobedient. Next the whip was brought down upon him with an +impatient hand; but the pony only reared up a little. Fast and +sharp the strokes were next dealt to the number of half a dozen. +The man might as well have beaten the wagon, for all his end was +gained. + +A stout lad now came out into the road, and, catching Dick by the +bridle, jerked him forward, using, at the same time, the +customary language on such occasions, but Dick met this new ally +with increased stubbornness, planting his fore feet more firmly +and at a sharper angle with the ground. + +The impatient boy now struck the pony on the side of the head +with his clenched hand, and jerked cruelly at its bridle. It +availed nothing, however; Dick was not to be wrought upon by any +such arguments. + +"Don't do so, John!" I turned my head as the maiden's sweet voice +reached my ear. She was passing through the gate into the road, +and, in the next moment, had taken hold of the lad and drawn him +away from the animal. No strength was exerted in this; she took +hold of his arm, and he obeyed her wish as readily as if he had +no thought beyond her gratification. + +And now that soft hand was laid gently on the pony's neck, and a +single low word spoken. How instantly were the tense muscles +relaxed--how quickly the stubborn air vanished. + +"Poor Dick!" said the maiden, as she stroked his neck lightly; or +softly patted it with a childlike hand. "Now, go along, you +provoking fellow!" she added, in a half-chiding, yet affectionate +voice, as she drew up the bridle. + +The pony turned toward her, and rubbed his head against her arm +for an instant or two; then, pricking up his ears, he started off +at a light, cheerful trot, and went on his way as freely as if no +silly crotchet had ever entered his stubborn brain. + +"What a wonderful power that hand possesses!" said I, speaking to +my companion, as we rode away. + +He looked at me for a moment, as if my remark had occasioned +surprise. Then a light came into his countenance, and he said +briefly, "She's good! Everybody and everything loves her." + +Was that, indeed, the secret of her power? Was the quality of her +soul perceived in the impression of her hand, even by brute +beasts? The father's explanation was doubtless the true one. Yet +have I ever since wondered, and still do wonder, at the potency +which lay in that maiden's magic touch. I have seen something of +the same power, showing itself in the loving and the good, but +never to the extent as instanced in her, whom, for want of a +better name, I must still call "Gentle Hand." + +DEFINITIONS:--Vicinity, neighborhood. Unobtrusively, not +noticeably, modestly. Repulsive, repelling, forbidding. Potent, +powerful, effective. Host, one from whom another receives food, +lodging, or entertainment. Peremptory, commanding, decisive. +Availed, was of use, had effect. Ally, a confederate, one who +unites with another in some purpose. Tense, strained to +stiffness, rigid. Relaxed, loosened. Chiding, scolding, rebuking. +Crochet, a perverse fancy, a whim. Instanced, mentioned as an +example. + + + +SPRING. + +BY HARRY TIMROD. + +Spring, with that nameless pathos in the air +Which dwells with all things fair-- +Spring, with her golden sun and silver rain, +Is with us once again! + +Out in the woods the jasmine burns +Its fragrant lamps, and turns +Into a royal court, with green festoons, +The banks of dark lagoons: +In the deep heart of every forest tree +The blood is all a-glee; +And there's a look about the leafless bowers +As if they dreamed of flowers. + +Already, here and there, on frailest stems +Appear some azure gems, +Small as might deck, upon a gala day, +The forehead of a fay. +In gardens you may note amid the dearth, +The crocus breaking earth, +And, near the snowdrop's tender white and green, +The violet in its screen. + +But many gleams and shadows needs must pass +Along the budding grass, +And weeks go by before the enamored South +Shall kiss the rose's mouth; +Still there's a sense of blossoms yet unborn +In the sweet air of morn: +One almost to see the very street +Grow purple at his feet. + +At times a fragrant breeze comes floating by, +And brings, you know not why, +A feeling as when eager crowds await +Before a palace gate +Some wondrous pageant; and you scarce would start +If, from a beech's heart, +A blue-eyed Dryad, stepping forth, should say, +"Behold me! I am May!" + + + +MARION'S MEN. + +BY WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS. + +The partisan had managed admirably, but he was now compelled to +fly. The advantage of the ground was no longer with him. +Tarleton, with his entire force, had now passed through the +avenue, and had appeared in the open court in front. The +necessity of rapid flight became apparent to Singleton, and the +wild, lively notes of his trumpet were accordingly heard stirring +the air at not more than rifle distance from the gathering troop +of Tarleton. Bitterly aroused by this seeming audacity,--an +audacity to which Tarleton, waging a war hitherto of continual +successes, had never been accustomed,--his ire grew into fury. + +"What, men! shall these rebels carry it so?" he cried +aloud.--"Advance, Captain Barsfield! Advance to the right of the +fence with twenty men, and stop not to mark your steps. Advance, +sir, and charge forward. You should know the ground by this time. +Away!--Captain Kearney, to you wood! Sweep it, sir, with your +sabers; and meet in the rear of the garden." + +The officers thus commanded moved to the execution of their +charges with sufficient celerity. The commands and movements of +Major Singleton were much more cool, and not less prompt. He +hurried along by his scattered men as they lay here and there +covered by this or that bush or tree: "Carry off no bullets that +you can spare them, men. Fire as soon as they reach the garden; +and when your pieces are clear, take down the hill and mount." + +Three minutes did not elapse before the rifles had each poured +forth its treasured death; and without pausing to behold the +effects of their discharge, each partisan, duly obedient, was on +his way, leaping off from cover to cover through the thick woods +to the hollow where their horses had been fastened. + +The furious Tarleton meanwhile led the way through the garden, +the palings of which were torn away to give his cavalry free +passage. With a soldier's rage, he hurried forward the pursuit, +in a line tolerably direct, after the flying partisans. But +Singleton was too good a soldier, and too familiar with the +ground, to keep his men in mass in a wild flight through woods +becoming denser at every step. + +When they had reached a knoll at some little distance beyond the +place where his horses had been fastened, he addressed his troop +as follows: "We must break here, my men. Each man will take his +own path, and we will all scatter as far apart as possible. Make +your way, all of you, for the swamp, however, where in a couple +of hours you may all be safe.--Lance Frampton, you will ride with +me." + +Each trooper knew the country, and, accustomed to individual +enterprise and the duties of the scout, there was no hardship to +the men of Marion in such a separation. On all hands they glided +off, and at a far freer pace than when they rode together in a +body. A thousand tracks they found in the woods about them, in +pursuing which there was now no obstruction, no jostling of +brother-horsemen pressing upon the same route. Singleton and his +youthful companion darted away at an easy pace into the woods, in +which they had scarcely shrouded themselves before they heard the +rushing and fierce cries of Tarleton's dragoons. + +"Do you remember, Lance," said Singleton to the boy,--"do you +remember the chase we had from the Oaks when Proctor pursued us?" + +"Yes, sir; and a narrow chance it was when your horse tumbled. I +thought they would have caught and killed you then, sir; but I +didn't know anything of fighting in the woods then." + +"Keep cool, and there's little danger anywhere," responded +Singleton. "Men in a hurry are always in danger. To be safe, be +steady. But hark! do you not hear them now? Some of them have got +upon our track." + +"I do hear a noise, sir: there was a dry bush that cracked then." + +"And a voice,--that was a shout. Let us stop for a moment and +reload. A shot may be wanted." + +Coolly dismounting, Singleton proceeded to charge his rifle, +which had been slung across his shoulder. His companion did the +same. While loading, the former felt a slight pain and stiffness +in his left arm: "I am hurt, Lance, I do believe. Look here at my +shoulder." + +"There's blood, sir; and the coat's cut with a bullet. The +bullet's in your arm, sir." + +"No, not now. It has been there, I believe, though the wound is +slight. There! now mount; we have no time to see to it now." + +"That's true, sir, for I hear the horses. And look now, major! +There's two of the dragoons coming through the bush, and straight +toward us." + +"Two only?" said Singleton, again unslinging his rifle. The boy +readily understood the movement, and proceeded to do likewise; +but he was too late. The shot of Singleton was immediate, and the +foremost trooper fell forward from his horse. His companion fled. + +"Don't 'light, Lance: keep on. There's only one now, and he won't +trouble us. Away, sir!" It was time to speed. The report of the +shot and the fall of the dragoon gave a direction to the whole +force of the pursuers, whose shouts and cries might now be heard +ringing in all directions through the forest behind them. + +"They can't reach us, Lance," said Singleton, as they hastened +forward. "We shall round that bay in a few seconds, and they will +be sure to boggle into it. On, boy, and waste no eyesight in +looking behind you. Push on; the bay is before us." + +Thus speaking, guiding and encouraging the boy, the fearless +partisan kept on. In a few minutes they had rounded the thick +bay, and were deeply sheltered in a dense wood well known at that +period by a romantic title, which doubtless had its story. "My +Lady's Fancy. We are safe now, Lance, and a little rest will do +no harm." + +The partisan, as he spoke, drew up his horse, threw himself from +his back, fastened him to a hanging branch, and, passing down to +a hollow where a little brooklet ran trickling along with a +gentle murmur, drank deeply of its sweet and quiet waters, which +he scooped up with a calabash that hung on a bough above. + +Then, throwing himself down under the shadow of the tree, he lay +as quietly as if there had been no danger tracking his footsteps, +and no deadly enemy still prowling in the neighborhood and +hungering for his blood. + +--From "Mellichampe." + +DEFINITIONS:--Partisan, any one of a body of light troops, +designed to carry on a desultory warfare. Audacity, daring +spirit. Knoll, a little round hill. Shrouded, hidden. Calabash, a +dry gourd scooped out. + +NOTES.--Marion's Men. During the Revolution, General Francis +Marion was in command of a body of partisan soldiers known by the +above title. They were for the most part poorly clad and +equipped, but their bravery, self-denial, and patriotism +enabled them to do good service in the cause of freedom. +Their deeds have been commemorated in Bryant's well-known +poem, the first stanza of which is as follows:-- + + "Our band is few, but true and tried, + Our leader frank and bold; + The British soldier trembles + When Marion's name is told." + +Tarleton. Colonel Tarleton was in command of a portion of the +British forces in South Carolina during the Revolution. He was an +able, brave, but merciless soldier. + + + +THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN. + +A CHILD'S STORY. + +BY ROBERT BROWNING. + +I. + +Hamelin town's in Brunswick, +By famous Hanover city; +The river Weser, deep and wide, +Washes its wall on the southern side +A pleasanter spot you never spied; +But when begins my ditty, +Almost five hundred years ago, +To see the townsfolk suffer so +From vermin, what a pity! + +II. + +Rats! +They fought the dogs and killed the cats, +And bit the babies in the cradles, +And ate the cheeses out of the vats, +And licked the soup from the cook's own ladles. +Split open the kegs of salted sprats, +Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, +And even spoiled the women's chats +By drowning their speaking +With shrieking and squeaking +In fifty different sharps and flats. + +III. + +At last the people in a body +To the town hall came flocking: +"'Tis clear," cried they, "our mayor's a noddy; +And as for our corporation--shocking +To think we buy gowns lined with ermine +For dolts that can't or won't determine +What's best to rid us of our vermin! +Rouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking +To find the remedy we're lacking, +Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!" +At this the mayor and corporation +Quaked with a mighty consternation. + +IV. + +An hour they sat in council; +At length the mayor broke silence +"For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell; +I wish I were a mile hence! +It's easy to bid one rack one's brain-- +I'm sure my poor head aches again, +I've scratched it so, and all in vain. +Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!" +Just as he said this, what should hap +At the chamber door but a gentle tap! +"Bless us," cried the mayor, "what's that?" +(With the corporation as he sat +Looking little though wondrous fat; +Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister +Than a too-long-opened oyster, +Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous +For a plate of turtle green and glutinous), +"Only a scraping of shoes on the mat +Anything like the sound of a rat +Slakes my heart go pit-a-pat!" + +V. + +"Come in!"--the mayor cried, looking bigger: +And in did come the strangest figure! +His queer long coat from heel to head +Was half of yellow and half of red, +And he himself was tall and thin, +With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin, +And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin, +No tuft on cheek nor beard on chin, +But lips where smiles went out and in; +There was no guessing his kith and kin: +And nobody could enough admire +The tall man and his quaint attire. +Quoth one: "It's as my great-grandsire, +Starting up at the trump of doom's tone, +Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!" + +VI. + +He advanced to the council table: +And, "Please your honors," said he, "I'm able, +By means of a secret charm, to draw +All creatures living beneath the sun, +That creep or swim or fly or run, +After me so as you never saw! +And I chiefly use my charm +On creatures that do people harm, +The mole and toad and newt and viper; +And people call me the Pied Piper." +(And here they noticed round his neck +A scarf of red and yellow stripe, +To match with his coat of the selfsame check; +And at the scarf's end hung a pipe; +And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying +As if impatient to be playing +Upon this pipe, as low it dangled +Over his vesture so old-fangled.) +"Yet," said he, "poor piper as I am, +In Tartary I freed the Cham, +Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats; +I eased in Asia the Nizam +Of a monstrous brood of vampire bats: +And as for what your brain bewilders, +If I can rid your town of rats +Will you give me a thousand guilders?" +"One? fifty thousand!"--was the exclamation +Of the astonished mayor and corporation. + +VII. + +Into the street the piper stepped +Smiling first a little smile, +As if he knew what magic slept +In his quiet pipe the while; +Then, like a musical adept, +To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled, +And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled, +Like a candle flame where salt is sprinkled; +And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered, +You heard as if an army muttered; +And the muttering grew to a grumbling; +And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling; +And out of the houses the rats came tumbling. +Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, +Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats, +Grave old plodders, gay young friskers, +Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, +Cocking tails and pricking whiskers, +Families by tens and dozens, +Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives-- +Followed the piper for their lives. +From street to street he piped advancing, +And step for step they followed dancing, +Until they came to the river Weser, +Wherein all plunged and perished! +--Save one who, stout as Julius Caesar, +Swam across and lived to carry +To rat-land home his commentary: +Which was, "At the first shrill notes of the pipe, +I heard a sound as of scraping tripe, +And putting apples, wondrous ripe, +Into a cider-press's gripe: +And a moving away of pickle-tub-boards, +And a leaving ajar of conserve-cupboards, +And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks, +And a breaking the hoops of butter-casks: +And it seemed as if a voice +(Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery +Is breathed) called out, 'Oh rats, rejoice! +The world is grown to one vast drysaltery! +So munch on, crunch on, take your nunchion, +Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!' +And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon, +All ready staved, like a great sun shone +Glorious scarce an inch before me, +Just as methought it said, 'Come, bore me!' +--I found the Weser rolling o'er me." + +VIII. + +You should have heard the Hamelin people +Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple. +"Go, cried the mayor, "and get long poles, +Poke out the nests and block up the holes! +Consult with carpenters and builders, +And leave in our town not even a trace +Of the rats!" when suddenly, up the face +Of the piper perked in the market place, +With a "First, if you please, my thousand guilders!" + +IX. + +A thousand guilders! The mayor looked blue; +So did the corporation too. +To pay this sum to a wandering fellow +With a gypsy coat of red and yellow! +"Beside," quoth the mayor with a knowing wink. +"Our business was done at the river's brink; +We saw with our eyes the vermin sink, +And what's dead can't come to life, I think. +So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink +From the duty of giving you something for drink, +And a matter of money to put in your poke; +But as for the guilders, what we spoke +Of them, as you very well know, was in joke. +Beside, our losses have made us thrifty. +A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!" + +X. + +The piper's face fell, and he cried, +"No trifling! I can't wait. Beside, +I've promised to visit by dinner time +Bagdat, and accept the prime +Of the head cook's pottage, all he's rich in, +For having left, in the caliph's kitchen, +Of a nest of scorpions no survivor: +With him I proved no bargain driver, +With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver! +And folks who put me in a passion +May find me pipe after another fashion." + +XI. + +"How?" cried the mayor, "d'ye think I brook +Being worse treated than a cook? +Insulted by a lazy ribald +With idle pipe and vesture piebald? +You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst, +Blow your pipe there till you burst!" + +XII. + +Once more he stepped into the street +And to his lips again +Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane; +And ere he blew three notes (such sweet +Soft notes as yet musician's cunning +Never gave the enraptured air) +There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling +Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling, +Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering +Little hands clapping and little tongues chattering, +And, like fowls in a farmyard when barley is scattering +Out came the children running. +All the little boys and girls, +With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls, +And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls, +Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after +The wonderful music with shouting and laughter. + +XIII. + +The mayor was dumb, and the council stood +As if they were changed into blocks of wood, +Unable to move a step, or cry +To the children merrily skipping by, +--Could only follow with the eye +That joyous crowd at the piper's back. +But how the mayor was on the rack, +And the wretched council's bosoms beat, +As the piper turned from the High Street +To where the Weser rolled its waters +Right in the way of their sons and daughters +However he turned from South to West, +And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed, +And after him the children pressed; +Great was the joy in every breast. +"He never can cross that mighty top! +He's forced to let the piping drop, +And we shall see our children stop!" +When, lo, as they reached the mountain side, +A wonderous portal opened wide, +As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed; +And the piper advanced and the children followed, +And when all were in to the very last, +The door in the mountain side shut fast. +Did I say, all? No! One was lame, +And could not dance the whole of the way; +And in after years, if you would blame +His sadness, he was used to say,-- +"It's dull in our town since my playmates left! +I can't forget that I'm bereft +Of all the pleasant sights they see, +Which the piper also promised me. +For he led us, he said, to a joyous land, +Joining the town and just at hand, +Where waters gushed and fruit trees grew, +And flowers put forth a fairer hue, +And everything was strange and new; +The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here, +And their dogs outrun our fallow deer, +And honeybees had lost their stings, +And horses were born with eagles' wings: +And just as I became assured +My lame foot would be speedily cured, +The music stopped and I stood still, +And found myself outside the hill, +Left alone against my will, +To go now limping as before, +And never hear of that country more!" + +XIV. + +Also, alas, for Hamelin! + There came into many a burgher's pate + A text which says that heaven's gate + Opes to the rich at as easy rate +As the needle's eye takes a camel in! +The mayor sent East, West, North, and South, +To offer the piper, by word of mouth, + Whatever it was men's lot to find him, +Silver and gold to his heart's content, +If he'd only return the way he went, +And bring the children behind him. +But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor, +And piper and dancers were gone forever, +They made a decree that lawyers never + Should think their records dated duly +If, after the day of the month and year, +These words did not as well appear, + "And so long after what happened here + On the twenty-second of July, +Thirteen hundred and seventy-six:" +And the better in memory to fix +The place of the children's last retreat, +They called it the Pied Piper's Street, +Where any one playing on pipe or tabor +Was sure for the future to lose his labor. +Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern + To shock with mirth a street so solemn; +But opposite the place of the cavern + They wrote the story on a column, +And on the great church window painted +The same, to make the world acquainted +How their children were stolen away, +And there it stands to this very day. +And I must not omit to say +That in Transylvania there's a tribe +Of alien people who ascribe +The outlandish ways and dress +On which their neighbors lay such stress, +To their fathers and mothers having risen +Out of some subterranean prison +Into which they were trepanned +Long time ago in a mighty band +Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land, +But how or why, they don't understand. + +XV. + +So, Willy, let me and you be wipers +Of scores out with all men--especially pipers! +And whether they pipe us FROM rats or FROM mice, +If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise. + +DEFINITIONS:--Corporation, city government. Ermine, furs used for +lining the robes of mayors and other high officials. Guilder, a +silver coin worth about 40 cents. Adept, one fully skilled in +anything. Nunchion, the same as luncheon. Puncheon, a cask +containing 84 gallons. Poke, pocket. Caliph, a Mohammedan ruler. +Stiver, a Dutch coin worth about two cents. Burgher, a citizen of +the town. + +EXERCISE. In your geographies find all the places named +in this poem. + + + +LIST OF AUTHORS. + +Arthur, Timothy S. An American writer, born near Newburgh, New +York, in 1809. Most of his life was passed in Baltimore and +Philadelphia. He wrote more than a hundred volumes, nearly all of +which are now forgotten. His best-known work is a temperance tale +entitled "Ten Nights in a Bar-room." He died in 1885. + +Browning, Robert. An English poet, born near London in 1812. He +was educated at London University, and spent most of his life in +Italy. He was the author of many volumes of poetry. He died at +Venice in 1889. + +Bryant, William Cullen. An American poet, born at Cummington, +Massachusetts, in 1794; died in New York in 1878. His poems +relate for the most part to subjects connected with the woods and +fields and the beauties of nature. For fifty years he was the +editor of the New York Evening Post. + +Burroughs, John. An American writer, born at Roxbury, New York, +in 1837. His writings include many delightful essays on out-door +subjects. Among his best books are "Wake-Robin," Birds and +Poets," "Winter Sunshine," and "Fresh Fields." + +Cooke, John Esten. An American writer, born at Winchester, +Virginia, in 1830. Among his works are a number of interesting +stories and sketches of life in Virginia. He died in 1886. + +Cutter, George W. An American writer, whose home was in +Washington, D.C. His most popular work is the short poem entitled +"The Song of Steam." He was born in 1801; died in 1865. + +Dickens, Charles. One of the most famous of English novelists, +born at Landport, near Portsmouth, England, in 1812. His greatest +novel is "David Copperfield," but some of his most pleasing work +is found in the "Pickwick Papers." Among his other writings are +"The Old Curiosity Shop," "Dombey and Son," "Martin Chuzzlewit," +and "Nicholas Nickleby." His "Christmas Carol" and other +Christmas stories are delightful reading. He died at Gadshill in +1870. + +Dodge, Mary Napes. An American author, born at New York in 1838. +She has been the editor of St. Nicholas since its beginning in +1875, and has written several charming stories for children. + +Drummond, Henry. A Scottish clergyman, author, and naturalist. +His most popular work is "Tropical Africa"; but he also wrote +many sermons, essays, and religious books. He died in 1897. + +Elizabeth, Charlotte. An English writer, Charlotte Elizabeth +Browne Tonna, born at Norwich in 1790. She wrote some novels, and +several tracts on religious subjects, and was editor of the +Christian Lady's Magazine, but her works are now seldom read. She +died in 1846. + +Emerson, Ralph Waldo. A famous American writer and philosopher, +born at Boston in 1803; died in 1882. His works are included in +fourteen volumes of essays, poems, and criticisms. + +Everett, Edward. An American statesman and orator, born in +Massachusetts in 1794; died in 1865. + +Field, Eugene. A popular American journalist and poet, born in +Missouri in 1850, died at Chicago in 1896. His best poems are +contained in the volumes entitled "Love Songs of Childhood" and +"A Little Book of Western Verse." + +Fields, James T. An American publisher and author, born at +Portsmouth, New Hampshire, in 1817. He wrote a little poetry, and +a few well-known prose works, among which his "Yesterdays with +Authors" is the best. He died at Boston in 1881. + +Flagg, Ellen H. An American writer of verses, whose home was in +the South. Her best-known production is "The Blue and the Gray." + +Froude, James Anthony. An English writer, born in Devonshire in +1818. His writings relate chiefly to historical subjects, and +include a "History of England" and "Short Studies on Great +Subjepts," both of which are works of the highest order. He died +in 1894. + +Gallagher, William D. An American journalist born in Pennsylvania +in 1808. The greater part of his life was spent in Kentucky, and +his best poems relate to Western and Southern subjects. He died +in 1894. + +Gilder, Richard Watson. An American editor and poet, born at +Bordentown, New Jersey, in 1844. He was for many years the editor +of Lee Century Magazine. His works are collected in a volume +entitled "Five Books of Song." + +Hawthorne, Nathaniel. One of the greatest of American prose +writers, born at Salem, Massachusetts, in 1804. Besides writing +some famous novels, he.was,the author of "The Wonder Book," +"Tanglewood Tales," and "Grandfather's Chair," delightful books +for children. He died at Plymouth, New Hampshire, in 1864. + +Hughes, Thomas. An English writer, born near Newbury in 1823. He +is well known in this country as the author of "Tom Brown's +School Days at Rugby," an excellent book for boys. He died in +1896. + +Key, Francis Scott. An American lawyer and author of "The +Star-Spangled Banner," was born in Maryland in 1779; died in +1843. + +La Coste, Marie. An American writer whose home was in the South. +She is remembered for the single poem, "Somebody's Darling" + +Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth. One of the greatest of American +poets, born at Portland, Maine, in 1807. He held for some years +the professorship of Modern Languages in Bowdoin College, and +later a similar professorship in Harvard College. Many of his +poems are well known to all young readers. He died in Cambridge +in 1882. + +Mackay, Charles. A Scottish poet, born at Perth in 1814. He was +editor of the Illustrated London News for several years, and +wrote three or four volumes of poems. He died in London in 1889. + +Macdonald, George. A Scottish writer, born at Huntly, Scotland, +in 1824. He was the author of a number of popular novels, of +several books for the young, and of two or three works on +religious subjects. + +Michelet, Jules. A famous French historian and miscellaneous +writer, born in Paris in 1798. He died in 1872. + +Mitford, Mary Russell. An English author, born in Hampshire in +1787. She wrote several dramas and poems besides numerous stories +for children. Her most popular work is "Our Village." She died in +1855. + +Musick, John R. An American writer born in Missouri in 1849; died +in 1901. He was the author of several works relating to American +history. + +Moodie, Susanna. An English author, born in 1803. She was the +sister of the noted historical writer, Agnes Strickland. Her best +book is "Roughing it in the Bush," a record of experiences in the +backwoods of Canada. She died in 1885. + +Peck, Samuel Minturn. An American author, born at Tuskaloosa, +Alabama, in 1854. He has written several popular songs and some +stories. + +Procter, Adelaide Anne. An English poet, daughter of Bryan Waller +Procter, born in London in 1825. She wrote one volume of poems, +entitled, "Legends and Lyrics." She died in 1864. + +Riley, James Whitcomb. An American poet, born at Greenfield, +Indiana, in 1853. Much of his poetry is In Western dialect. He +was author of "Rhymes of Childhood," "Afterwhiles," "A Child +World," "Neighborly Poems," and several other volumes of verses. + +Sangster, Margaret E. An American author and journalist, born in +New Rochelle, New York, in 1838, has written many volumes on +social and religious subjects besides several books of verses. + +Save, John Godfrey. An American poet, born at Highgate, Vermont, +in 1816. Most of his poems are humorous, and have been very +popular. He died at Albany, New York, 1887. + +Simms, William Gilmore (page 248). An American writer, born at +Charleston, South Carolina, in 1806. He wrote several novels, +most of them relating to life in the South. He was also the +author of a volume of poems, and of a history of South Carolina. +He died in 1870. + +Stockton, Frank R.. An American writer, born at Philadelphia in +1834. Among his books for children are "Roundabout Rambles" and +"Tales out of School:" He has also written a number of novels and +several volumes of shorter stories for grown-up people. + +Tennyson, Alfred. One of the greatest of English poets, born in +Lincolnshire in 1809. He was made poet-laureate in 1850. Many of +his poems are well known to young readers' and very popular. He +died in 1892. + +Thaxter, Celia Leighton. An American writer, born at Portsmouth, +New Hampshire, in 1835. She wrote "Among the Isles of Shoals," +and some other volumes of prose, but is remembered chiefly for +her "Poems for Children." She died in 1894. + +Timrod, Henry. An American poet, born in Charleston, South +Carolina, in 1829. His poems, published in a single volume, have +been much admired. He died in 1867. + +Todd, John. An American clergyman and author, born at Rutland, +Vermont, in 1800. He wrote "Lectures for Children" and the +"Student's Manual," books once popular, but now almost. He died +at Pittsfield, Massachusetts, in 1873. + +Trowbridge, John Townsend. An American writer, born at Ogden, New +York, in 1827. He was the author of a large number of popular +books for boys, besides several volumes of poetry and some +successful novels. + +Warner, Charles Dudley. An American author, born at Plainfield, +Massachusetts, in 1829. He was the author of many volumes of +essays and sketches, and of "Being a Boy," a book for younger +readers. He died in 1900. + +Woodworth, Samuel. An American author and editor, born at +Scituate, Massachusetts, in 1785. He wrote several poems, but he +is remembered chiefly as the writer of "The Old Oaken Bucket." He +died at New York in 1842. + + + + + +End Project Gutenberg etext of The New McGuffey First Reader + diff --git a/1490.zip b/1490.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..183feb0 --- /dev/null +++ b/1490.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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