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9!^'^- 
 
^ 
 
 K>T "^^ «'^'ST' 
 
 
IS 
 
 YHI VUIBD MUOl 
 
 :Mr 
 
 8. It ^as no wonder Aftt Stfihislaui was loteA by 
 every one, from hi$' &tlier and tobihi^^ po the lowesl 
 BerVani in tiie MtotiidiiM lic^luild of a hAinh hoble. 
 He waa, >d^ a inM 16^ (^tild; 
 
 beaatiftd as aii al^el i^ p«r«on, 1^^ heart and soul 
 wvn even moM loirdy in (Ike n^t of 6od in Wtcov. 
 Jind b^re his Mo#--ereatorea on e^rt)^ 
 
 5; Bt«li as a little d^id he was IramlrkaHe fo^ 
 every ^itoKi« bifii^ liia iif^ BSa patience. Ha 
 modesi^i Ma iHniaJng gentl«n(^ liim the d^ . 
 
 of aU wbo knew ^int rn»ii w«p 00^ lio^^tm ' 
 
TMM fnmiilt BIfWT, 
 
 It 
 
 
 ^odtdflolloTo SltiilalMi^aiidtlifti wMhk 1poth«r 
 Paul, wko would fiAlNr 1m luid bm moM likt bin- 
 self tod o4h«r bofi of bii tg». 
 
 5. FtalKotil^ ^nol Um ImI iiln iik brotb«r 
 StenlilMM. Ht wiB ]i«rad and hnperioui* aud de- 
 ipJMd bis Htfla hrottiir beoMiie be wm m bumbb 
 audio pstiaiii Stinl/dMia bid mudi to 
 his btolWt bftid, iiiifeoiii^ irtyii, but 
 wHb ibft greatftt piMtimio^ and neTer ahf 
 iU-t«mpet. 
 
 6. Anotber tiai« for wbioh StiH^Vlai 
 ed •• ft oblld, was bis gnai pmitgr ff 
 uot beflff to bear bad .worda (^ aidjr lelad,' 
 faintad away witb bonor wbeA ;^tora of bii 
 made vae of lati|tittage^iat was offensiya^) Qbd. 
 fatber loved bim so miteb that be would bave bimat 
 table, vnok wbeu ba bad Company. 
 
 7. Knowing; bo#eirer, ibat Ms fittia son ooiild not 
 bear to bear any piofaae disooonpe or otU woids^ the 
 father triad to pitoTent any Sttflib xMssonise wben be 
 was present^ andtf be beard any of bis goaata talking 
 too fteely, be would pointy with a SBd^^ to bis yi»ui|peT 
 son, and at ones the disoouna was ebaag^, beeause 
 aJl knew the purify and itiiiooenoe of ibelttigeliGebild. 
 
 a Su<di b^ StanisbHM Kots^ 
 liwasnotsn^pil^i^tbAtbe g^ in bbKnaai and in 
 gnu)^ and beoapie di% more saint^fike in all bis 
 thougi^ Words and aeUons. He waa but a y>mtb 
 when be obMia^ aAir mneb troubla^ bis fiith«i^a 
 consent to obn4aamlil.bl|B^lf to Qod in holy i^U^iMm, 
 md dik vaiy yiM% ^ bU Wt mk, hnmrn S 
 aid muc^ &r ba baoame a groat n^iii 
 
 » &-\, 
 

 '^% 
 
 • t 
 
 i r 
 
 1. II7K«» poor imdWfy bom; 
 
 ii., X 
 
 Aadpoorii]^ 
 liiiiiriiiiiltii^iiiii 
 
 Xc 
 
 
 
riiiimmmmt^mmM. 
 
 Ki 
 
 LESSON III. 
 Thi TB4ynj[<iB'» Bmnur. 
 
 ^ day. 
 
 with iiiMsertam light 
 1. QWIET to th« laoRrf«t'^»^«Uer 
 
 8. And wh^n, bfiiiMh th' nndoiided iob. 
 
 A aootht^iMMy. 
 
 4 And when ihd •▼•nlag l^I'dKekyi^ 
 ' An<l lU i« oiiIbi around, 
 %^re is iweei muiio to Hi mTi 
 "% Iho IfftM^iheei^^ 
 
 
 ^< << ■ ■*, 
 
16 
 
 THE THIBO M$At}UK 
 
 lN-VENT'KD,foima out. 
 
 Teb'bItIbr^ a small species 
 of dog. 
 
 Squall'y, very windy. 
 
 LESSON IV 
 
 A Ship Saved by a Doo. 
 
 LidHT'HotraE, a tower with 
 a light, to warn ships. 
 
 PLASH'iNOi rise ai^d &1] of 
 flowing water 
 
 
 rvNE of the most usefiil thii^ that man has in« 
 \J vented is the ship, by means of which he can g0 
 from one countiy to another, and does not fear to ael 
 out on the wide ocean. 
 
 2. But, aJas! the winds, and waves, and n^cks, some- 
 times prove too strong for the noble ship, i^d it is in 
 great danger of being lost, with all on board of it 
 Here is a story of the p«Sl in which a fin© ship ^ 
 once pUced and the^ stowige way in which it wm 
 saved. , 
 
 3. 1 few years ago, an Ameiiean sea-^saplain wm 
 given a fine little rafr-terri^, wh]M3fa ho ciiled «Nep* 
 
A SHIP i4TID Bt ▲ iKMk It 
 
 tunt^ Mid to6k wil& hinft tm liui^oj^^ ^1^^^ 
 "Nepiolie " iOOQ K-^ id to like the Tdssel^^d w6iM 
 nm up iMddn iikt ^ little indldr ; but lie ooold not 
 come doim irithout heljk. 
 
 4. Aftei^tlie vdasel iM beeik «t een eome weeks, 
 when they 6tme neal" the ^id, befote it ooold be 
 aet^ni by the men, ^ Nep,*' w^i^d dimb high Upon i^e 
 fomttid p«rt of the ship; fttid vbnff, eiiid beirk, imd' 
 show dg^ «f joy. Hie kieen ioeht loade him able to 
 smell tho lai&d before it eotdd be seen. 
 
 5. When '' Nep.** had been to sea with his %Mtet 
 about two yean, the teinel had beiui to N^ Orleans 
 for a load of Qotton, and waa on het way oat of the 
 Gulf of Mexico Into the Atlantie Qceak fci ibme 
 days theriBi had been What sailont eall ** s^oaliy " 
 weather, and (lie T^esd had not iailed i^ery ^at 
 Constant wateh had to h$ kept, for aD dioiig that 
 coast are long; low redh^ and islaiids, and bars, 
 which have dei^royedjttiiq^ Tw^ 
 
 6. It had beiHii i^e captain^s Wateh hi the eariy part 
 of the nighv-^bhat ia the teptain, m^ a Hw ; mttt^ 
 stirred npim the ddek whUe the Ibeit ilepi iThd 
 oUm^ at the iotind tif the bal^ oaaic tipoii diit, 
 the liiate took tthloge ii^ ^ ship; tha knaii who had 
 been^firatdhing want bcloiir, and ^ claptaifi, tielling 
 thi mM to tMU him befiiiia thi^ o^dodk, ^rent to hia 
 berth t6 ikapb "^ Nep;' lay at thi door df 1^ 
 
 room, for that waa Mb aleeph^ plaoCk ^" ' 
 
 t. bihlikii^i^^ 
 
 the «l)Q«ibli4Mdid Shot 1^^ A light-hooMi is 
 bii% iftpiiilt^ m that teijMb iim^ not «^ agidttit 11 
 inthe^i "^l^coii to^ii^ by^i^ 1^^ 
 
 "1.*. 
 
'•2 ^•". '^^^ 
 
 
 
 *p 
 
 y ^ <ii« %i >M l^« te 
 
 bigqf Hm witor; tiM miito wi^| |^<W ^^t scxme. 
 
 ^ miar iptv^ m pOw Wi^ 4mA wp 
 
 ff^ fill M^ imW^ ^oy, wliq^iiiiii ii imi^ 
 U •* tilt whAd-tll^ I, Idlit Wp, wlie^ 
 
 4lii»l» li»«W |H*te «««f j««i»i ™..^- ^ 
 
b»«"- 
 
 i|n4wjl^8he>mi^,va» «p near the dwk. t|i|<^ la 
 three ilc^tP VMM wottld hftve abtwk eod l^t^ 
 
 wrecked. .V 
 12. I^i ^le^li^ Milep J^ the dtowty mA» were 
 
 rouse^ i»^ tiiek alumbfn^ ipd weie not t littie for- 
 
 imied toi^ fiN^ djOi^the 
 
 wftTes wcfti^ haye abeady dbeed oyer |)iini. 
 
 tESSQS V. 
 ftai Old IfiN 41P ku QB^oniKni. 
 
 w!£9ofaeoii. 
 ^^Bl^ ttogty* dii^teMd, 
 Oy'm, % pl«oe fo^ bakiiig 
 
 meat o^ inead. 
 
 
 
 Tbough, a lon^ shallow 
 
 feiae) of woo^ i^^^on^ 
 #l^hogelbed. 
 SntL'XD, let fall 
 ULsmftax-VD, being daai^ 
 
 NOB upon * toe there waB»yeryol4old npn^ 
 
 ie ears iiaaleM for heai^f* 
 and iui knees |««p^ When Jne f# at table h 
 
 coidd ioaroelj hold ^s i|Mieii, and often he spiUet 
 his iMNl owir th# iaUe-ioth^luid io^^ on his 
 eloftliei IQi eon 1^ d^ii^^ilMMMi^ ""T^i* weh 
 ye3ced«iMMi#i»«iiA|jt hwt th^ in*^ 1^ ^ iman 
 slt^htfiii^|li|'i»^-»^ Imi 09^^Mh 
 
 mMb % an efpfhei^ »^^ ?^f •^^ «>*N^? ^ 
 that the ><^ SM^ jp«ef iifj, ^ 
 
so 
 
 tBM TBJJBOb BiADHL 
 
 k 
 
 
 1 OoMliis handti irenkUed io nittoh that lie oollld 
 not hold the dish, and itiall on the ground/and iiras 
 broken to pieces. The young iri& teolded^ him, bat 
 be mado no reply, and only sighed. After^that they 
 bought him a woodoi dish, for a eouple of!pence, tod 
 out of that he had to eat Qn^ day, as htjna sitting 
 in his usual place, he saw his little grandson, of four 
 years old, upon the gvoand, near him, fittibg togethv 
 some pieces of wood. r.:-^-:':'''^''-. -'r:^/ 
 
 S. * What are you makbgf " asked the old man. 
 '* I am making a wooden trough," replied the child, 
 "for father and mother to feed out of when I grow 
 big." At these wends the father of the chiM |]ooked 
 at his wife, and presently they both b^gan to dy, and 
 wero Sony, and jifter that they let the <dd grandfather 
 sit at the table with them, and always take Jbis meab 
 there, and they did not soold him any more, even if 
 he spilled a litiile of his food upon the doth. 
 
 ■ ^ >» " 
 
 LESSON YI, 
 Jaooii's Rbtubn to iBAia 
 
 PA'Tfti-ABOB, filler and 
 
 mlerofafomily. 
 BoNBs'iuti.asUve^ 
 D»>Fiox<'iD^ punM* 
 
 Bi'TURN'nraf, oonhig bade 
 POT^TAOi^ a soirt of ab^ 
 madeofhcnrba 
 
 IN ^ pioture yon oan see how i^ nied ij» Jpf4 
 in >iigbarn eouutries in the'^iigri (xf tlM^ jp^^ 
 Moha. At the headof tha tniin ton iMiy iili 
 
 ^isLV^.k.?*H^-sikJf'i^«'jitti.isAaialiir3i.5 
 

 fV^" 
 
 J10QB*8 9RVBN lO UAIC 
 
 Zl 
 
 /^.i 
 
 and sheep, and following them are iihe camels, In 
 those diys used instead of horses, led by bondsmen ; 
 on one of the camels a woman is mounted 
 
 2. The j6umey depicted in this picture is that 
 taken by Jacob, the son of Isaac, on his return ifom 
 a strange country to the land of Canaan, which was 
 the land of promise. It was in Canaan that Isaac 
 dwdt. The st(»y of Jacob's youth, and how he came 
 to leave his &tWs house, and his own country, is 
 so M ^ mterest, that though many of you must 
 have hefodit, we will go over it again. 
 
 8. Esau, which name means hury, was the. elder 
 
 ■''':' t 
 
 brother ol Jacob. Hence, to him belonged the birth- 
 right, or right of succeeding his &ther as head of & 
 home, • But one day, when returning ywsL hvmpv 
 
"'^iw ilh 
 
 ^wiifMk 
 
 [•^i 
 
 E*'; 
 
 from htmiliig; li6 taw hia brother JTaoob woklng some 
 pottage, waA, in otit&t io obtain it, he sold hia birth- 
 tii/tkt to jMol^ii^#0iid not give him the pottage* 
 irnlern he ^ «k ^ns Jacob became, as it were, 
 theelde^m. 
 
 4 BniUlMi noir vepm^ of hie baii^; and grew 
 ao a^igiy with his brother^ that Bebe<»a^ iheb mother, 
 wlw afriid heinight harm him/and s^W &n^ii#ay, ont 
 of tl^t wS&ilij, to vint her brother liabkin. This was 
 Ihe iMbn why Jacob left the ho^ ^f" his^^t&en, 
 i^id'^bt am9ng 8lxi(%toei. ^e edm^d the service 
 of his'^llnde Ikban, and after seven :yeal»/nuu»ied 
 tik^A^mmtiM aad^EUdM ; for among the l^^itri- 
 axvhl^yMi were attd#ed more wives than one. After 
 his maniage he served for seven years moare. 
 
 6. He then desired to go home, bnt Labau was so 
 
 ansdous to have him stay, that he remamed for six 
 
 ^eita l%(ttv making in aU tw^ty. "He was now 
 
 P^1#tolthy in fiooks and herds, and had a 1«^ 
 
 fimdly oi children. But Laban had grown jeiilbna'of 
 
 'lis siio^ imd did nlot wish him to go away/ So 
 
 '9|i6ob #iui dbiiged to steal iway, with hia wiveii and 
 
 aoni^ and'dilli^ters. 
 
 "6. Sb'angiy Iras l^banaVthe flight of^l^tfephift^^ 
 
 ikat lie piitsoed him, inten^ng to brin^*^ him biiidk. 
 
 Bittl(3bd,'weare told, lippeared'to'the angry man in 
 
 ly i^C tM bade 1dm do no barm to tfaooK So 
 
 peaoe was made between them, and JadbVi^ sdfl^- 
 
 ' eit ta'^tt&ii into Oarii^, ihe conntiy d hia iSither 
 
 "^diaiC^^ died wi^ hewaa on the iddtesrhobie. 
 
 ' Settling doWn here. Jacob lived to agireen old a^ 
 
 ' «ii)?mni»0d^b^^ iiid gtimdi^di«n; 
 
 ft/V 
 
 »i 
 
 .1»: 
 

 IjAB^ON VII. 
 
 Thb AlL'Sbkino Qod. 
 
 A.l-mighT't, all - power- 
 
 fuL 
 CoU'Unf, to do. 
 
 Pub'lish-eD, made known. 
 EX-POS^BDb laid bare. 
 In-duloi^» to yield to 
 
 1. A LMIGHtY OOD 1 thy piercing eye 
 JO^ Stiikee through the ihictoe <^n%ht^ 
 'And bnr Moii ise6^6t ^tipns lie 
 Allopefitir^ei^t 
 
 1 Th«ce^si]iet4i Jon that we eoaimit» 
 Kor wioki4<woid^er|i9^, 
 %atttjiiNibr4iiildM book 't ia ^^^ 
 4gain8t the judgment day. 
 
 7 BerMadbiaidYpnb^Ahedl^ 
 
 iifiyie sfiei^ndiMglls heiir t 
 
 4. Xiofdj at ihy feet aahamed I Ke ; 
 TJpwazd I dare not look ; 
 J^axdon iny iiue Wc»^ I die, 
 Aildblotrlhem from thy book. 
 
 A«il1il^hi#hl90d maOt cnJ^mf »taiai, 
 
 *j>i: 
 ',»' 
 
1 1' 
 
 
 nu THIBD ItlApSft. 
 
 0. Oh I may I now forever fear 
 To indulge a liiifbl thought; 
 Binoe the great God can see and hear 
 And writea down ereiy ftnlt 1 
 
 -**«- 
 
 
 LESSON VIII. 
 
 HumUTT LEAPS TO HkAYW. 
 
 Hu-mL'i-TT, bwlineaa of t EN-Dtm'sD, bore, aufoed. 
 
 mind. 
 
 Mis's-BT, want, hardship. 
 
 SoAM^, poor, not suffi- 
 cient 
 
 Pxl'qbiii, one who travelB 
 firom a pious motiye. 
 
 Ml8-FOBf^0NB, Boripw, if- 
 
 fliocion. 
 Sus-TAiir, to support 
 Rin^ a earemony; the *1ast 
 rites" means the last 
 sacraments to the dying. 
 
 NOB upon a time there was a lord's son, who 
 went out into the fields sad and thoui^tfoi He 
 looked up at the sky, whieh wia so hhie and dear 
 and said with a nog^, "Ah I how happy muat they be 
 who are in heaveiL'' At the same moment he per- 
 ceived a gray old man, who was walkipg the same 
 way, aud he asked him the questibn how he could 
 go to heaven. " Through humility and poverty," an- 
 swered^ the old man. ''Piit on my <db^bes^^ a^ 
 wander aboui the world fixr sev«[i j^Bais, to hMon 
 what misery is : taJce no mon^ with yon, bat when 
 you ari<> hungry, b0g a piece a bread* and th«a you 
 will approach by degree^ the gate of heaven." 
 % ISius advised, the nohkmm tht«w off hii fine 
 
 'uiiifS 
 
HimiLm' Li4m fo Hi4Tiir. 
 
 loUiiiir. and pnltiiig on, initaAd, Uie beggar^t rags, 
 le went Jpfth into the work), and endurod mneh 
 m took only the moat acanty meak, spoke 
 leyer a word, bat prayed daily to God to take him. if 
 [e pleaaed, to heaTea When seven years had 
 he returned to his Ikther^s house, bat nobody 
 lere knew hint He tdid the swvants to go and tell 
 parents that he had returned; but the servants 
 rould not baUeve him, and only laughed at what he 
 dd. 
 
 S. ''Then go and teD my brothen^" said he, "that 
 Ihey may oome to me, for I should like to see them 
 Incesgam." This request they a^lao refused; bat at 
 [ength one wrat and told his brothen, but they did 
 lot believe it^ and gave themselves no trouble about 
 It. Then the young pilgrim wrote a letter to his 
 Bother, and described all hia misery, but said noth- 
 ing aboat. his being her eon. The lady pitied his 
 lisfortones^ and caused a place to be made for him 
 >w the staircaee^ and there two servants, by tarns, 
 ^ad to bring him food. 
 
 4. But one of these servants was wicked at heart» 
 id said to himself, "What shall the beggar do with 
 
 tood foodr and so he kept it for himself, or gave 
 to the d^, wMte he gave the poor, weak, half- 
 
 jtarved young man, nothing bat water. The other 
 9rvan^ ho^ii^veir, waa honesty and took him daily 
 rhat he received for Mm. It was only a U^e, but 
 
 |till enbulh to sustain lifli. 
 
 5. Witfc lids scaniy hn the pilgrim waa qaila 
 »nteat^ thoi^ k» grew weaker and weakeir. But 
 rhm InaJli^qsaineMafied, ha dei^?ed to no^m tha? 
 
lart riiM eTHit Okmnk, and aUtr N IM miinQ 
 tihea^ Um bells «l aU Ikt ebnreiMt/ fti%i*i ii«», 
 b^0Mi to rii^. Tk^pAmk went Vide qulddy «|> Hit 
 poor b«ggar« and lonind bim ^jiag dead, wtHi » RMt 
 in ona band, and a ^f in tha olber. Naap Idai k^ 
 a papar on wbibb bit oaaa iNw tnttftan. 
 
 ^ OtmI wat tba griil of tba noUa lad j, bli 
 mothar, wbaa iba Iraad Ibai tba beggar waa bar 
 own loii^-laiit aa»> T«i bar aanrov waa aeon abaagid 
 to joj, for her son bad died a saint; bis poyarfy aad 
 hnnulity bad made bim Yaigr dear to Qod, and tne 
 good mother kiiew that for the ridissb and hc^.ofe, 
 and aomlcnts, be bad denied himself on aa'ib» be 
 had ganed in eiwh s ng e a orowa of beamuy^gloiy. 
 Thai bolf fWDg man was 8i Alcolia 
 
 ''i'%« 
 
 ■i#r"i»'^o«<iiN<i« 
 
 r-' 
 
 Sm., 
 
 Pi ■' 
 ■/■*• 
 
 LESSON IX, 
 
 Hab^q, eM who pkys 
 
 on the harp. 
 VUtfTiSy'poems, songs. 
 yLar^immi, a singer; a 
 
 wandeiing mqaiflian, 
 E.T.RtT', to live. 
 Ck^iKiliKrV to tarn from 
 
 o4' %in^ to another. 
 
 3iz.^Jj^ t^i^ng sat to 
 mnsia 
 
 ing. 
 Bjsl!o.|tT/ a laookd lyf 
 
 alale uiaooQiadowii to m nf'Hiia hwi^^ 
 

 f, Ite gM^ deeis df wfttrion i^d IdngB. We 
 rho liye in tbeil ^ys* ivluifi {k»ople secan ioo busy 
 tHh 0^^ iiiix^to'tliiiik mu<^ (^ poetry and song, 
 in 'fefm nto idea of liow hlglily these liarpen, or 
 Etrds, #tSFe l!^ok^ 
 
 2. ^ gcMiie icmiitries thdir «aN; ^wtti called the 
 'gentle eriilfc/'lMi ^ey thems^es irere known as 
 fmJr -tfelife** "^r^ftnd flbtAi,1sy yrhtikewt name they 
 ^ere liiilir^, ^ey esdsted b evefy nation-, shioe tlw 
 lieiit l^hiliift ^o i^ow how *fei^ igo ^ muit be 
 loe these Img^wm higan to delight people with'^^^r 
 itiide» we nMi «^ inenMon ^t/^(^ien Si Patrick 
 ^ern^fm MImA to the CSiriitlMi M&a^ he 
 
*, 
 
 m TfiOtD BtAfWMI, 
 
 you will find that the iinrt Btories of the iiAlioii, the 
 way ahe sprang into life, and all the events which the 
 aetors in them wished to have preserred, were not 
 written down at all, but ikiade by the harpers the 
 subjects of BongSy which they learned by heart, and 
 sang to the people. In the course of time, the first 
 singer of these bsJIads died, and then younger bards, 
 who had learned his songs firom him, still sung them, 
 and others, too, which they made np themselves. 
 
 4 Not only kings and princes, but eveiy great man 
 and chief, had in his household one of these hwrpers, 
 who turned ahnost everything 'he did into a ballad, 
 which he sung to the munc of his harp. ]|6mdes 
 the exploits txf the chief, his marriage, or deith, or 
 any event in his &mily, was made the topic of one 
 of these songa But warlike deeds were what the 
 harpers liked best to sing. This is the reason why 
 most of these ballads which have come down to us, 
 treat more of war than of anything else. 
 
 6. In the picture you see one of these harpets, 
 quite an old man, holding his harp; and sitting 
 beside him is a man whom we take,&om his dress 
 and the shield lying on one side of him, to be a 
 warrior. No doubt he is listening to the old minstrel 
 singing of some, great deed, and thinking in his own 
 mind how much he would like to do something that 
 would cause his name to be thus « subject for the 
 
 ' 1,.- . , ^ ,. 
 
 9. In this way it was that the haipers came to have 
 so mudi power as they at one time had; tior ai^ we 
 surprised that they who gave fame to all the greftt 
 deeds of their times, were still more thought of than 
 
 h:. 
 
JiNCiBlIT HABFEB&. 
 
 t9 
 
 \5veD. Che wairion themwlTM. Yoq will find uiat, in 
 agea, men who either long or wrote poems, were 
 iooked upon with the highest respeet; for the power 
 )f the bard or poet to make the ▼ones we admire so 
 ineh, must be given him by Qod, and hence deserves 
 >nr esteem. 
 
 7. But not only were these harpors to much 
 ipected, they were also well rewarded by the kings 
 id chiefs for whom they sung. They were not paid 
 
 py regular sum for their songs, but whenever a 
 it man was pleased with the ballad he had just 
 )een listening to, he would give to the harper either 
 golden cup or chain, or perhaps a handful of coin, 
 they were always welcome to every house, they 
 ^ad to spend very little for their support^ and hence 
 >uld become very rich, if they so wished. 
 
 8. Itiahatd to say whether this monb of harpers 
 [id more good than harm, by preserving all the 
 icings of the famous men and women of their times, 
 [or, of ooiuse, many of these deeds were not as good 
 
 they might have been; and, indeed, some of them 
 rere too bad to be read of with any pleasure. But it 
 true that we would have no history at all if we left 
 it all the bad things that have been done in the 
 rorld. There is one good which cornea even from 
 le wild baUads of many of these harpers, that we 
 )t a horror of Um bad deeds they tell o^ so awful do 
 ley seem to ua m these song& 
 
m 
 
 V^MSBt 
 
 fr'.' 
 
 IaESSON X 
 St. Josipb 
 
 down.' 
 
 shipB. 
 Paue, ft tMd £^nd' in 
 
 Ik-T0K8^ to oaD npoiL 
 
 Mover. 
 Scx>BOHliro, iManfiDi^ 
 
 1.^ TF fiPBet it b«f, firem tosilDg on itio ^ ^ 
 
 JL A#lei^gtli to* oitMP iMffboi's ahdherittg libiiiid/ 
 Or when fikm^BM-StsfminoteB^ 
 ^ dwMtfl'inadbi tlw ptliii^^ 
 
 1 So thuB.froni Twng aoenw of fi»iidiMi4iMfc^, 
 Whioh ddly moot our «sp <^ l^i9tor]^imi§i|, 
 Bow soothing 'tis to dwell on each a Uf^^ 
 Of patient eonstenc^, from youth to agp 
 
 3v S(» slow t# jfidtge, so meroiM when jnst ; 
 
 So meek wiUm in|ined on n^ost satted g^vmndf 
 fhoB wer^rjFprored to hold tlUKt pliMseof trusts 
 iingeH might «avjr, did qpt lore alMid.^ 
 
 i. Henoeforth united hj the holieB|-tii% 
 
 To Him, the Sonroe of eyery giaoe aad power, 
 Who with his Virgin Mother, closed thine eyes, 
 Well ma/st then be invoked in death's drsa 
 
■Cif''fS 
 
 Oh I then, remember those who anxious pine^ 
 With loving wishes, at their death to see 
 
 Such gaardians of their last fareweU to time; 
 Obtain that we ma^r liye and die like thee ! 
 
 31 
 
 ■#*» 
 
 LESSON 3|I, 
 
 j^s-icABs'iD, taken no^ce 
 of. 
 
 extreme 
 
 L-fB-Tir, ti^Qub^i*. of 
 mind. 
 
 iKR-OBivi'^to notice, nake 
 oni 
 
 JBAD'i|r0,fe#a#nff low 
 
 %8-FSNS9f, no| knowii 
 whiM^tp tiiink. 
 
 Oon'm-pkncis, trwitj^ faith 
 "in. ; 
 
 SuB-jfqiOH, a guese, gen- 
 en^j 9uf^k)eing eva 
 
 ^9^m^, old! iuonse 
 J^intlMfiwauj^ 
 
 |T has t^ <^^ reniarked tlvit the np^ of l^vi- 
 denee w wmd«^, W we tl^M we We 
 rd very few examples whidi more dearfy point 
 It the wondrou? i^^er in which He fiuihions His 
 Ids^ than the flmiple tale we are about to relate It 
 I alas Vno imcommon one: ' ^^* 
 
 k In a certain tiUege, a g^ many yean •^^ 
 lomas Mnston, . n^ of moderate wealth,' uid 
 ^ch resipected, Hved in a prettjr little cottage some, 
 f"^ M %»J^« hi0i road, He had two sois, 
 bm h^^did his best to bring up in the loTe and^r 
 • *"-^ it w^ a ta«k which dort U^ m> Uftlf 
 
THE THntl) BBADSB. 
 
 anxiety, the more so that his faithfUl wife had died 
 whilst the boys were yet very younflj, leavixig him 
 alone in the work of training them. 
 
 a. As far as regarded the eldest boy, Francis, he| 
 was at length repaid for all his oare/by obserring 
 how the early wildness which had so pained his 
 fatherly heart, was beginning to i^ve place to a] 
 steadiness and a love of virtue which gave good pnm- 
 iaa for the future; but, to his greai regret^ he could I 
 
IHB TWO BBOTHXBS. 
 
 S3 
 
 ^oi p6iwi¥6 in John, the younger boy, any change 
 
 >r the better. John had very early shown himself 
 
 wild boy^ nor did he give signs of ever intending to 
 
 anything, else. Tet the poor fisbther waa in doubt 
 
 rhether or not his heart was really bad. 
 
 4. He was not long left in suspense. Whilst, with 
 reiy day, the good BVands seemed to deserve, more 
 id more, the confidence of his father, the unhappy 
 
 [ohn was seeking the company of bad boys, like him- 
 
 ' a cause of distress to their parents, and was too 
 
 ly on the high road to ruin. It is but too well 
 
 lown that when a boy or girl shakes off the yoke of 
 
 bue^ their downward course is rt^pid; and so it was 
 
 the case of John. By the time he was sixteen, he 
 ras looked upon as one of the worst, even amongst 
 
 lis bad comradesL His wretched father knew not 
 
 That to do with him. 
 
 5. Amongst the hardened young men with whom 
 
 >hn now kept coinpany, the practice of stealing was 
 it at all uncommon, whenever the money to sup- 
 
 fy the many wanta whidh spring from vice could not 
 got by honest means; but as yet» John, bad as he 
 1, nad kept clear of a crime so degrading. StiU it 
 
 ippened that some scheme of amusement was set on 
 )t by the gang; for which a good sum of money was 
 led ; and unhappy John, giving way to the tempt- 
 
 tion, resolved to get it by stealing, since he knew 
 
 I would be vain to ask it from his father. But how 
 cany out his bad intent was now the question. 
 >w do thinlrhe did iti 
 
 6. It came to his ean. Just about this time, that 
 father, who made it his custom to go to the next 
 
 /^i 
 
 •' *'i 
 
W^;^ 
 
 ■:*lf" 
 
 14 
 
 nti 
 
 maMkm^ mry Hr^^ In order to \mf foocb for 
 Mi ttoftt, ^il^ this time goiiig to ^^ Fnnbii iiu^eiia. 
 TIm Ifotli ViTM, thd fikther, find^ lib eUflit aon m 
 good iid tieady, dialled to iiMke Idm liia chief! 
 •00iitoat> and Eenoe was iMidiiig him od this snavd 
 •• k Mlii )k test of his hosuMlB qi^^ Fruids, 
 oiil3ri% * kfge sum of money, was to start In tlie 
 •Yening; ao tl^t by travelling all ni^t» he might | 
 hvra tiie whciUi of the foUowing day for his bosinessi , 
 Ton may now guess what the wicked John meant 
 to do. We shall Me If he carried out tiis base! 
 design. 
 
 1 Shinrtiy after dlurk^Fiaads, having said lotod-byl 
 to his good ftither, stepped out boldly on his jounieyj 
 ibi imoney eanAiSy stowed away in one of his 
 p6cl»ta But he had not gone &r when he was 
 seized from behind, his mouth gasiged, and himself 
 «i^t<>h4 OD U>. gpmoA. ^«« two pe»>i» hdd 
 liSi* llrm^ 1 tiiird searehod his poeketi^ and eacted 
 by robbing him cf all hla money. 3e dadE was the 
 night, that he iras not able to nrnke out who the 
 robbers were. The latter, after tying his J^dfaiid 
 feet, left him lying on the soene of the lobbeiy, Bot| 
 ten feet from his fiither'a door. 
 
 8. The latter, happemng to come out soon after,! 
 found him in this sad plight, and was grieyed lees for 
 the money whJMsh had been etoleni tlma for a iNirftil 
 BuspLdon which passed through |iis mind. Neocl day 
 he found that he was right. Bis eon Jo^ no doubt 
 alariirdd at the bdidness of his own inimi% had liftf 
 the towf. The wretched iii^er cpnldneit doubt i|x»w, 
 even if he had doubted before^ who the fobber was. 
 
TBS in^ BBoraifta 
 
 85 
 
 purely. 
 
 tliai day hii hMlih btgui lo fiul, r^owfy bat 
 
 9. Bm never got over the ahook of finding Kii own 
 jn a robber. He livedo however, long enough to see 
 
 the good Francis taking his place in the business, 
 ~id then cahnly closed his eyes in their long sleep, 
 hnost his last words were: "God will yet torn the 
 leart of that unhappy boyl" Franers, now the sole 
 >wner of what his father had saved, went on his way 
 n the practice of many virtues, above all, never 
 foigotting the duty of charity, and ceasing not to 
 bray for tlie brother who had injured him so deeply, 
 3ut whom he yet loved as tender|y as ever. He often 
 [.houghi of his fethei's dying words, and thus there 
 pew up within him, by degrees, a strong hope that 
 bhe erring John would yet return. 
 
 10. One evening, some years after the eventftd 
 light of the robbeiy, he noticed as he drew near 
 the door of the old homestead, m whieh he still lived, 
 lying near the step, a man eoverad with rags, and 
 bvidenay veiy weak and ill, aad beside him two qjc 
 three persons, who appeared much concerned about 
 
 omething the poor sick man was saying. As was 
 
 is wont in such oases, Francis stopped to drop some 
 
 aoney in the wretehed creatww's hand, when, to his 
 
 luiprise, a gentleman who was standing by asked 
 
 bim if his name was not Fnuds Johnston, adding, 
 
 [hat the sick man had mentioned tha name, and 
 
 riished to know if that were the owner of the house. 
 
 11. A straaige thought struck the good mernhant, 
 knd looking earnestly into the Worn and withered 
 Hoe of the poor outcast he thought he could \raoe 
 
 -i^a 
 
WV'. 
 
 fBCmiBDi mABfWH 
 
 stooped, and applying bio lips dose to the ear of (iMt 
 
 pool mm lfk9 9f^ <^ 1^ "o to<%> bft vlNipeQ- 
 ed tb^ oiip word "Jolm,?" SoiOietliiog lili<i» m amkk 
 plajred oTifr the ^iwn iSMM^nieB as tM pauper mamniinidi 
 "Ye^r Xhii#,i)i9y met agaio. 
 
 1|^ TJ^inro^ on ifte yeiy spot wjb«re yeam h e fo r e^ m 
 th^. boy hood, ojoia 1^' knodEed t^ other dow»aadi 
 rob|^ bpii tj^ one i^ho bad been the ilot&a liaS' 
 noip; ^e psip^i^ Be lifted bis siok and wmtj 
 br(^^ io, lij^i i|n|ii;aiid onjnsied him into tl^ hoiQ^ 
 of ii^ 4^b4]4boofl Th^ne, Irlnd^ unoeastng/oaiMi 
 bro^g^t bim ^ h^^i^ qm» m>m; and, bmnl^bgp^ 
 soip^Qlf; ^^i ^P^cb b9lM9¥!» wb»2b are tbe^ iniiiig^ 
 winj^ qf, nin,^ !^ U^ ipiipy; % year witht blabi^y 
 brother, to justify their Jatb^t^^btth in the gpodnesi 
 an4 f^ertsy (^ Ood- 
 
 Stort of a Brave Mia. 
 
 ^PnmmfWi, a sndiclMi ranng 
 
 ofw^en 
 AiiPS, "weiiy lugh moontaiiUM 
 
 i&fiurope. 
 y^Ao'sA, a lacge town, ot 
 
 oitymitiEdy. 
 
 A-iH^OB, a filler in Itsly. 
 WsAof'WBiST^ » pieee of any 
 
 thing broken. 
 Srm&N^^^^TrSi uteiy gre«% 
 
 yeiy stros^fi^ 
 
 AQ;i^|i^y |(^ <^ fee^at \mm *^i^ p^ i»» 
 %^ i^pr^lflJilJy,, owing tp ^J^pi^epjH m4 
 «a<iw in, ^; 44p% ft^jfeft^ " 
 
 IS''i'^^!* 
 
 .ij^, 
 
STORY OP A VkkYM MAX. 
 
 87 
 
 rive^ Aidge earned off * bridge near Veronm, all 
 3zoept the middle part^ on which urae the home of 
 le toll-gatherer, who thiw, Irith 'lui whole ftmily, 
 Bmained surroiinded by the wftTes^ and in instant 
 
 ar of perishing. 
 
 2. They were men from the bank, atretdiing forth 
 
 leit hUhai, ebi«lii]]iii% khd «kjHn|^ M ^, wiiile 
 
 lenta of the 6iBify remaii^ai^ itt^ w<^ every 
 
 loimit dlNJippk^ ik^io iihe ^m^. % this extreme 
 
 mger, a ^i(^i£ti(atn #h6 was preset held out a 
 
 )iirae df #lia JiiiBdci ito a Ifdii^ to ^a^ one i^ho 
 
 ronld ti^lt bt^t aiift iite this nnhappy family. 
 
 8. But ^ dat; ^ ^r b^ing bbriie down by Ihe 
 
 swifbiesB of the current^ or dashed againet «#Bginent 
 
 >f the l»rid|Ee| was so great, that no one amonglit tha 
 
 it ^wd on the rivern^e had oonmge «nati|^ to 
 
 lake the attempt A peasant^ |>a8singa]on^ inquired 
 
 [what w«| the matter, and beii]^ informed of tlM^ 
 
 l^er in which the poor fiumily were p]a€0d,!|Bstantl|r 
 
 pumped into tlie boat^ by the strength <^ oam gained 
 
 [the middle of the riTer, bcQught his boat under ^ 
 
 Ibroken bridge, and the whole &m% descended by 
 
 [means of a rope. 
 
 4. ^y a still more stKenuona ellbrti and great 
 itnsngth of arm, he bronght the Iwat with the rescned 
 |fami)y to tiie shore. *'Bra^ fellowr etfidaimed ^ 
 |Ilob^n^ lianmng the |Hin» to hwi, "hi^ is yonr 
 jrewai^" ^ **I sludl ne^ fdi^ money," 
 
 lansweeed the peasant. "JiSj labor supports mysetf^ 
 my wi&i and my children. Qive t^e pntse to this 
 ]p(m fiimily, who have lost all <hey had." 
 
 . -''ft. 
 
LESSON XIII. 
 
 Grandmothie. 
 
 II- 
 
 ■■I 
 
 Wbin'klid, eontnoted in- 
 to ridges and furrows. 
 
 Kva^TLE, to make a slight 
 rattUng ooise. 
 
 Rb-vivb', to oome to life 
 again. 
 
 Maid'bn, a young girl 
 
 FBA'aRANCJB, 0weet» fres). 
 smell. 
 
 RiNQ'Lin, curls of hair. 
 Ck>UN-TB.KANCK, the face. 
 YAXtiSEL'ED, disappeared. 
 NioHT-iN-OALS, a b;id that 
 sings at night 
 
 nRANDMOTHEB i« veiy dd, her fkce is wrin, 
 VJ kled, and her hair is quite white; but her eyes 
 are Hke two stare, and they have a mild, igentle 
 expression in them when they lo >V: at you, which 
 does you good. She wean a dress of heavy rich 
 silk, with large flowere worked on it; and it rustles 
 when she moves. And then she can tell the most 
 wonderful stories I Grandmother knows a great* deal, 
 for she was alive bcf<»o &ther and mother--that is 
 quite certain. 
 
 2. She has a prayer-book, with laige silver dasps, 
 in which she often reads; and in the book, between 
 the leaves, Ues a rose, quite flat and ilfy; it is not ao 
 pretty as the roses which ai« staniling in the glass, 
 and yet she smiles a* it most pleai:^ntiy, and teuJ 
 even oome into her eyes. I wonder why graiid 
 mother looks at tiie withered flower in the oM boolc 
 in that way. D© iron know ? 
 
ORAinnfOIHIR. it 
 
 8. Wby^ when gnndmother'B tean fiUl upon the 
 •nd ishe is looking at it, the roee t^viTee, and 
 the rcoa with its fragrance ; the walls vanish as 
 a mist, and all around her is the glorious green- 
 rood, where, in summer, the sunlight streams through 
 lick foliage; and grandmother — why she is young 
 l^ain, a charming maiden, firesh as a rose, with 
 ^ound, rosy cheeks, fair Ixright ringlets, and a figure 
 pretty and graceful, but the eyes — those mild^ 
 [aintly eyes— are the same. They have been left to 
 randmother. 
 
 4. At her side sits a young man, tall and strong; 
 le giyes her a rose, and she smiles. Qrandmother 
 
 lot smile like that now. Tes, she is smiling 
 ^t the memoiy of that day, and many thoughts and 
 Emories of the past; but the handsome young 
 is goncb and the rose has withered in the old 
 )0fk; and grandmother is sitting there, agsin an 
 ^Id womai^ looking down upon the withered rose in 
 book. 
 
 5. Qrandmother is dead now. She had been 
 [ittmg in her arm-chair, telling us a long; beautiftil 
 
 le ; and when it was finished, she said she was 
 [ired, and leaned her head back to deep awhile. We 
 >uld hear her gei|Ue breathing as she slept ; gradu- 
 Uy it became quieter and calmer, and on her conn- 
 manoe beamed happiness and peace. It was as if 
 ighted up with * ray of sunshine. She smiled once 
 lore, and then people said she was dead. 
 
 6. She was Udd in a black coffin, looking mild and 
 tutifiil in the white folds of the shrouded Hnen, 
 
 lough her eyes were eioaedl iMi every wrinkle had 
 
liiUM^ M iMfr liMlcea im^ ana Ui^^, ind 
 mUmA %%t dUMith Uii|f6rea a fe#lMt iiiii!t». We did 
 flOfelM Kt itt iftidA to look at thb oo^^ df htt who 
 fali betti ivlsh a deafr, good grattdnidtlier. The 
 fhrayer-book, ih wluoh tho loae itill ky, was placed 
 under her h^ad, for so ihe had miAM it Aiid'theti 
 they horitfd grmdittothiBr. 
 
 7. The moon tthOHie dO#kt up&n ^% grairo,hiHr the 
 dead yrm not there. Svltty ehild oo&ld go safely, 
 ereii attt^t/ilid fduck i ybto Itotti the tree by the 
 ohiirbhyard wall The dead knowi more than We do 
 Who Hre li>|rij^. Tb^y lOx&rr #httt a terror wohld 
 mms^ Upm^ if tftiditt Ift^dgte thili^ Were to ^Upp^h 
 as th^ tkppemoiceelt a d^Kd pdtton among tiH. Tb^ 
 are MHitt* dff thill We «yn&;^e^sad retum lio mbA 
 Tha «ff(^ has heeii !hei^ on the tfoffin, itad il iis 
 iiirth only iim fidi WH^n it 
 
 8. fhe leil^ of ift^ prayer-book ai^ dudt, tod the 
 itfso/Willi'l^ iii nililhOl4tti^ faitf m^ W Sffit alst). 
 But over thegrave fresh roses bloom, the nightltigilAe 
 Slligii, mi tlM> lorgail Ifttiiil I attd fhM 1«^ iiVcNs a 
 ivUiMiibfaliiO of Old ^§mMmstft, %i^ thb k^itig, 
 gentlt«|fe*<lllat>iNri^l«^ed'^iii^^ Obr Oyteshitll 
 
 otfoe igMli hiibM ^mt 0m^iS[^M^, yoiA% ahd 
 
 biMtllial as wki^, ft>r %hfe «filMb tltiio, ^ Uiiod ai* 
 red iMiy'thttt ii'i^W dM iklAie gvita. 
 
tut flMUDR 
 
 LESSON XIV. 
 The Fireside. 
 
 [eas'ube, a strain uf mu- 
 sic. 
 
 I^et'el, a gay scene. 
 
 ies'tive, joyous, merry. 
 
 Ieatbl^isS) ihM oannot 
 die. 
 'ar'likb, like waib 
 
 Po'et, one who ipakes 
 
 verses. 
 Pa'tri-ot, one who loves 
 
 his country. 
 fiii*«KRiN']p») kepi care. 
 
 ftiUy. 
 E-L¥%I-AN, blissM 
 
 IHAYE lasted all life's pleasures; I have 
 sj^Pit^^ at ftll. iM. j^s; 
 'he dance's merry measures, and the revel's 
 
 fes|*i?e j^oiiB ; 
 'hough wit flashed lE^right the livelong n|ght» and 
 ^w^4th«iru%iiyei 
 |1 sighed for thee, I sighed; for thee, my own fire- 
 
4S 
 
 tHB THtRD AEADJea 
 
 2. How sweet to turn, at eyening's close, from all out 
 
 cares away. 
 
 And end in calm, serene repose, the swiftly passing 
 day I 
 
 The pleasant books, the smiling look% of sisters or 
 ofbride; 
 
 All fairy ground doth make around one's own fire- 
 side 1 
 
 3. The poet sings his deathless song% the sage his 
 
 lore repeats; 
 The patriot tells hit oountiy's wrongs, the ehief 
 
 his warlike feats ; 
 Though far away may be. their day, and|gone 
 
 their earthly pride, 
 Each godlike mind, in books enshrined, still haunts 
 
 my fireside. 
 
 4. Oht let ma glance a moment through the ooming 
 
 crowd of years. 
 
 Their triumphs or their fiulures* their ninshine ot 
 their tears $ 
 
 How poor or great niay W my &te^ I we not 
 what betide. 
 
 So peace and ioye but hallow thee, iny own fire- 
 side 1 
 
 5 Still let me hold the vision olose, and doiwr to my 
 
 sight; 
 Still, still in hopes elysian,let i^y ^Mt wing its 
 
 flight; 
 Still let me dream, life's (diadowy i^snm mKy 
 
 yield from out its tide, 
 A mind at rest, a tranquil breast, a quiet finsidtf 
 
B90KWHB4T. 
 
 41 
 
 y1 
 
 LESSON XV. 
 
 Ths Buckwheat. 
 
 Vfo-LBNT, TWty fierce. 
 
 Ven'xr-a-blb, aged, re- 
 spectable. 
 
 Sur-bound'ino, Ijin^g 
 round about. 
 
 Op'positb, right in front 
 of. 
 
 Txr'bi-blb, frigbtfiil, fear- 
 
 foL 
 LiOHt'NiNO, the flash of 
 
 light seen with thunder. 
 Spab'bow, a veiy dendei 
 
 bird. 
 GB^BB'ruL, light of heart 
 
 rlY often, after a iriolent thunder-Btoim, a field 
 of buckwheat appears blackened and singed, as 
 if a flame of fire had passed oTer it. The eoimtEy 
 people say that this appearance is caused by light" 
 ning; but I will tell you what the sparrow says, and 
 the sparrow heard it from an old willow-tree, which 
 grew near a field of buckwheat, and is there stilL It 
 is a large, venerable tree, though a litde crippled by 
 age. ^e trunk has been split, and out of the erevio* 
 grass and brambles grow. 
 
 2. The tree bends forward slightly, and the brancheA 
 hang quite down to the ground, just like green hair. 
 Com grows in all the surrounding fields ; not only rye 
 and barley, but oata— pretiy oats, that, ^en ripe, 
 look like a nnmb^ of little golden canary-birds, 
 sitting on a bou^. The com has a smiling look, and 
 the heaiiMtaiki richest ears bend their heads low, 
 as if in^ooB hukniHiy. 
 
 $. Onee l^iere wis also a field of buekwheat, and 
 
r 
 
 it THI inBnD) IHHtPlB. 
 
 ihiB %!Aii was ezaotly oppolite to the old winow-tree. 
 The bnekwheat did not bend like the other grain, 
 but erected its hitS \siM&i Atid stiffly on the stem. 
 " I am aa valuable as any other com/' iiaid he, " and 
 I am much haudschM* ; fir^ ild#bk are aa beautifiil 
 aa the bloom of the ii(p|rfe-bloflBom,'«Dd it ia » jpleaa- 
 ure to look at me. Do yoti 4cnow of aiiything ptet 
 tier than I fun,^you old wiAow-treef" 
 
 4. And the willow-tree nodded hia -headj as if he 
 would 8i|y, "Indeed^ I ^oP But the buckwheat 
 spread itself out with |»idi^^tfid said, ''4Bti||did tree; 
 b^ ia ao old that fgraaa grows out of his IxMSy!" 
 1!here arose a very terrible storm. All theV\ileld- 
 jbf#eie imaA mst ^Biiiii %ltl)ik-/o^ li^M i^etr 
 little ^mgk, %k!le ^StSb %i^Mii iMtfed Wk lhidkn» but 
 1ftift««(lk<ll4ieat'yto«l'erM<t1ti itlbt>rM^. ^ll^ll j^odr 
 hekdidiVb^to;' sMd'ilhfelhMnl. >"I IIvIIm) ddca^- 
 
 '«^ei^ ^m fietilto ^ li^ ^Z* I^M M eli^ 
 
 (f o<Mi>, ^'1^ lu^ W ihe l^tbiiii Hb <ib]i(it!l%; %is 
 
 wings m^mA #6m <b ifty "il^t^ t6 '^b ^^iA W 
 
 for mercy.'' "But I will ndt HitfS ^ 'head;" iMd 
 1^ biM^wMli *'i^»(lif6 ;3f<6l»r HMH Und beti^ fm 
 leaves," wdd tthb ^lild ^lElttMMli^ Do tiOt Ukit at 
 the ligbtl^ Wheti tSfb HfiMId %il!4ts ; %Hn lok^ dto- 
 not'do itet. Hi a Ulah M l^flHsgfhig lieill^ bjtei, 
 auAlrewi loilt 4^ Blft ^ si^t ilt^^^^ 
 basMli^UMliiifJs^Mi^ 
 
 <a ^^^mia^lltto^WMit^^te^ 
 out of the earlh, and am so iiXft^^ <INId, 
 ««iMPa ^ e«» M" "^ItaMei^ Ihdw^*' liiU^ ilie 
 
«Hii9ii«iin^ ium- 
 
 45 
 
 i)iickwlieti '*N<yw I intend to bavea peep into 
 leavenl" Proudly and boldly he looked up, while 
 16 lightning flashed acrofBj^Q ;|i^ fs if the whole 
 ^orld were in flamei. 
 
 7. When the di^#iKil st^f^t^hndipaMed, the flowers 
 id the com raised their drooping heads in the pure 
 
 still air^ refreshed l^ the rain/ but 4^e buckwheat 
 %j like a weed in ^e field, bu^t tp blackness b^ 
 
 the lightning. The Ittanches of the old willow-tgrrie 
 istled in the wind» and large water^^ fell i&om 
 lis green leaTCS as if the old wiUow w«w» weeping. 
 
 8. Then the spaffows asked why he was weeping, 
 [when ail atound seemed so d^eerfuL "§f^** ^^^ 
 [said, ''how the sun shine^^ and the etoude SSba^ in the 
 [blue sky. Do you not smell the,8|fe«t ]^rf^me hop 
 [flower and bosh? Wherefore do you wee^, old 
 willow-tree t** Then the willow told them of the 
 
 hawghliy jiWn <»f J^ bi»*i*^#, iP* rf *fc pwiPh- 
 Thifi. ij|j*e s^i^i;, toll* ^ me ^ilhi mmimm» 
 
 UUIk 
 
 *rt,;--."^ ■ %^ 
 
torn THIiU> ilKAJ>£& 
 
 LESSON XVI. 
 ▲ Hapft DsATa 
 
 Rb-pent'ano^ sorrow for 
 sill. 
 
 Fks'ti-val, a day of great 
 joy. 
 
 GifDED, passed quietly. 
 Dis-Mis'sAL, permission to 
 retire. 
 
 Rb-oiu/siv brought to 
 mind. 
 
 DjMfKSB'ESTB, MiihM Mr- 
 vante. 
 
 TwfLiQHT, the last light 
 of evening. 
 
 Mon'u-ment, a stone or 
 pillar in memory of the 
 dead. 
 
 Ful-fil'ment, the obtain- 
 ing of what csieiiwishes 
 for. 
 
 Pkn'i-tbnt, one who is 
 
 sorry for ain. 
 Re-quest', fevOT. 
 
 THE laal day of Apiil came, and the ehapel was 
 decked with flowers. It wu a day which ne^er 
 eame round without stirriqg many thoughts and 
 feeUngi within Aioya. It waa the period of his 
 own repentance and hia entrance <m a new life; and 
 on the following day of f e«ti val— that day of gladness 
 m nature, and in <^ eiatom, and in the Gburdi— 
 Aloys remembered the deportuM of his loat brother 
 and sister; lost both of them for a timet bat his 
 brother .partly regained. 
 
 % His sister atill was lost to him. 'One ptiittit 
 wiah» his last on earth, burned within Wm iilth 
 inersMing strength, whilst his pcweri weia^^ 
 Mm. and earthly thoughts &ded away, fhmigb 
 those dajrs of peace which had glided en slm his 
 
 ^«r 
 
 >^ ^*! 
 
 .1 ''S,-' 
 

 4 HAWr DSATH. 
 
 47 
 
 ituni— that patient waiting for his diflmiflBalr-*ihat 
 ibroken course of holy services — ^through all the 
 [ghts which belonged to his birthplace, and recalled 
 childhood— through all the words of love and 
 >linefls that Father Martin spoke — aU the acts of 
 ^nd and faithful service done for him by his faith- 
 ^ dependents — ^through all his hopes of future hap- 
 icess — ^through all, that fervent wish still burned. 
 
 3. And now, when the evening service was^midedj 
 loys still knelt upon the pavement of the chapeL 
 16 twilight was closing in, as it had d<me on the 
 rening of his repentant thoughts, and he could see 
 imly the images of his p&rents laid, in the repose of 
 
 lyer^ upon their monument. With clasped hands 
 
 loys knelt, earnestly praying for the fulfilment of 
 
 heart's one wish yet unfulfilled, earnestly striving 
 
 obtain it. That one wish granted, might he^ too, 
 
 |e down in peace. 
 
 4. He heard a movement within the chapel, which 
 lused him to look round. There was a rustling 
 )und, and through the dusk, he saw a fignre ap- 
 reaching him ?n»pped in loose garments. There 
 ^as a moment's pause, and his heart beat quiuk. 
 
 len a faint voice said, " Aloys 1" He rose, and his 
 3ps did not falter as he weiit>,o meet her who thus 
 Idressed him, as he held out his a^ms towards her. 
 
 |ut not into his ims did sh« throw herself^ but at 
 
 lis feet 
 
 5. * Aloys,^ my piirerhearted, my holy brother, can 
 |ou reoeiVft Back a penitent? After so many yean of 
 
 ride, of vanity, of self*will-~with so much to repent^ 
 much to eflkee— Aloys, can you receive me Imm f 
 
411 
 
 CHIBD aSA])] 
 
 FosioiMd to 'mmWi ^9^ mo^mi^ He*le^ h^y |q Jjhe 
 
 6» like fipbW *l«il4 ^^tfW Ji«^ WHP^ «ftW%i.f^<^ 
 tlieni lettd&Dg h«r iUUi he Mi; Ji#i^ ^jf^H^ oj^ihef^i^el, 
 9t^ M&ak wilih b^r to fa^<ir }taa#;^'|i <^)|pbei. 
 Whea he hAd seen hpir ¥neel 1^(|rt *^ftff iiNtfeS3P.>ei 
 went do^iii ^gttim to the chin^ Th«| i;i#iflg. m<^n 
 ahed •SQlb ligWi •dJw eiM»M pa^B^lt jtppp f*ei 
 
 7. A »]^iii» of ^wf?fpt gmtyj^. # |[ip^ i^JpyJ 
 and # was etill. 8efoi?Q th»d#wA of <*i l^tj 
 May^iiay, Abya; lay dei^= ujioo, % ^N^l flpoif. 
 
 father liartin did not l^et ^he cecj^q^ >1|^ hel 
 lad mada A stone Uka t))ftt wl^ui^ fo^$^ Qi^y^'<i 
 i88tMig-pl^iif«|]Md oiiT thftgp»?^§^of A|oy^ j^,a| 
 like prayer for merey ; and, after m§^ J^m^ ff^J^- 
 lt«ioe,,Mahi}ia:« gmif^ y9;m vm}fl^ ^ W 3i ^F^\ 
 itona like tha two 
 
 I^S^fWSl XVII, 
 Ruins. 
 
 Ms-min'to, a reminder. 
 Fxud'al, a term nied in 
 the midiie age& 
 
 ABCH'iTEOt, onewlto pUn«| 
 
 % "mWil^^ from ib»MaAli%gem^ 
 ^M S«iit8i'doyeaaxtfy^iv>4 
 
 It- 
 
hUtM. 
 
 m 
 
 Proud memehtoeis ctf the j^Oi^ 
 Of departed age9 sttiiid : ^IH 
 
 Ruins of strong feudal castles, 
 That have braved war's fiercest rage, 
 
 Bow their iieads like stem old warriors, 
 Battle-scarr'd and crushed with age. 
 
 ' f 
 
 2. Ruins, too/c^ pirimd oii iemi^es. 
 
 Round Whose shrines, in ancient days. 
 
 Priest and wamor, king am^ ^peluaant, 
 fientr the knee in pra^et and praise. 
 
 Sanctified \^ dain% worsh^p^ 
 They should staad i^lev^iiliMi^iBB! 
 
 "S3 
 
■''^:^^- 
 
 Ml 
 
 THX THIRD READKB. 
 
 Bui the luuid of tha destroyer, Timep 
 Utwrnfingcmt all 
 
 8. Mt it it to gMw vponihem^ — 
 
 Castle, dolttar, shrine, and dome, — 
 And to think that all earth's glories 
 
 Must at last to ruin aome ; 
 That with wreaks the passing agea 
 
 All the nniverse must fill; 
 Bat each day we see around na 
 
 Boina grander, sadder stili,*- 
 
 4>. Fallen oolnmiia^ erumblif^g areha% 
 
 In the temple of the sonl. 
 That should stand in primal beaafy 
 
 While onnnmbared ages roll; 
 Oknrioua souK f OIF bliss created. 
 
 Turning from their heavenward way, 
 Frook a Fathar'a love and mercy. 
 
 Bow them down to gods of day. 
 
 5. Wreaks of ittind% whose soaring pinions 
 Ni^ should toueh garth's dust and mould 
 BencBng from the gates of gloiy, 
 Down to worship gods of gold. 
 Mournful as it is to witness 
 * Shrina and palaoe erumbling low, . 
 Wrecks of Qod's fidr hiimaii temples , 
 Are the saddest earth can show. 
 
 ^, But as round each mouldering pabM)e 
 Close the sheltering ivy creeps. 
 So tiie vine of prayer, or preaching, 
 SUIl from otter ruin It deps 
 
 iiit 
 
 «l,'r. . 
 
 A. 
 
R^f 
 
 ^►■^f^' 
 
 ▲ OOAL-MlllB. 
 
 •I 
 
 TIm loiirf tMBple, till its tngm&nU, 
 By ovr tean» be sleaofed from italn ■ 
 
 When the Aiehiteet Almighty 
 Sb«ll rebuild them all agi*^ \ 
 
 ^- * il 
 
 LESSON XYIII. 
 A Ck>AL-KiN& 
 
 -Ao'iNB^ to Ibnxi en idea, 
 
 tofiEUDCy. 
 
 ^NE, poet md eroee- 
 piece ofcod for a pulley. 
 ih'LSf, small wheel, with 
 a groove for the rope 
 that turns it. 
 
 Shaft, entrance io » mine. 
 TRAX'WAT.nanow railway. 
 YiM^-LATB, to let in air. 
 WusLBfUKQ, handling, «» 
 
 ing. 
 Qal'leb-t, long pajsage. 
 
 BA-FiD'i-Tt, iwifinesa. 
 
 ^ERHAFSfew of you who have ao often seenooal 
 burned in cooking-stoyee and grates, have any 
 |iea of how it is dog out of the earth. In order Io 
 
 low you how this is done, imagine yourselTes in the 
 
 )rth of England, and thai we are going together to 
 a ooal^mine. Hie first sign of the mouth of the 
 |it will be a few sl^eds and laige heaps of ooal-dust^ 
 
 id there we shall see the erane and pulleys hanging 
 
 rer the mouth of the shafts which looka like m vegr 
 |eep welL 
 
 2. We must put on adnevs' dro sse s befoie we «m 
 [o down; then we must step into the iron buokel or 
 
 lb, whi^ is long enough to hold quite a party 9^ 
 »noe. In we step^ l^e <du»ins rattle^ and away we go 
 
 . -Ac 
 
■■>*':^T*« 
 
 down ; bat w«^o mtsiti^ tlM nfiJKDlMi, dkj)^ tfeU Wini 
 hole ftt the tafp of 1ih6 lilMtft liMttb 16 <fl^ IM^^ 
 In about four miniftW m^ HM'tftlAi^ MtdHi. So 
 of these ahAfta an tPirdl^ hmdittd, Wttd ytttft nxteei 
 hundred feet in depth. 
 
 8. ArriTed at the bottom, as soon aa*oar eyes 
 used to the dim, glimmering light of the oil-lamps am 
 pit-oandles, we ibe 4 Abmbto Hii filiiis^n out out 
 the ooal, and trains of ooal-wagons drawn along iroi 
 tramways by horses "dt ^pdtd^. 'The air of the pi 
 seems to i^gree so well wjith these animals, tb 
 th^ are alwiijif fiii and aleek, not seeming i^ 'su£f< 
 as the men and boys do, who ass Year oftsB thin an 
 pale. . , ^* , 
 
 4. We must each tf|ke a oandle in our band am 
 maroh along the mainwij^, whieh ^is hi^ enough foi 
 us to wi^ upright Soon we find a hea^ doo 
 which is placed here for ventilation ; f(Mr all mines ai 
 v«ntilKted l^(hi£¥iflgt%io ihafta, Whidh tie 6ilMi % 
 
 flStmiSb lb tts^tiOly \]pimeA,%M is diittajf tnd ti^ee 
 off tlda stkMAco'and fdttliair'df %Hi flikt. 
 
 «. Of dOitttoeliiiMib Aiilkktliit % so ^IM lllhat 
 tiie ftesh ahr Iftiall biVi t6 j^ iCfobd^ ll^l^iD] 
 
 pism^ mtot^ ft tm^ ^tmiik, Wi thy^ 
 
 late the eurrents of air, doiom am plaesd. VhySs 
 a^ «re im'W ^t<^ "^^ fil^^MMt «^o 
 dt %^!^a thb tl6br 1^ fiUt It '^ 
 
^ w>*4'^^W^^i 
 
 59 
 
 fork, w}if^ mre called putter$, beoaiu^ Uiej "put" or 
 ish wagflK^ps, loaded wiUi tubs of ooal, aloDg the 
 ler passages, where horses cannot work. 
 
 6. Finally, at tha end of the workings, we shall 
 id the hewers, the men who really cut the coal from 
 
 resting-place; and very hard work it is, for the 
 or layer of 0ofd is oftea haid, and the confined 
 and the need of many piaps to support the 
 }f, prevent the men from easily weilding their short 
 ^eavy picks; they not seldom have to work sitting^ 
 • kneelmg, or even lyii^T ^^ ^^ backs or sides. 
 
 7. Some of ithe oldiir ooiJ-mines are. by no means, 
 in fbrm, bait the 'modern ones are usually cut 
 
 lut in huge squares, each square shut out from ihe neat 
 
 fne by sdM wialb of coal, forty, or fifty yards tliick. 
 
 Tou may readily understand how the boat is wdirked 
 
 yf^xi^WiJ^w^ |kr^ t)ie gafleiles 
 
 ^tput^jl^^papiif^g^f^ th^pilJl^Jelt, t9 
 
 ^S(# the i^ ^p )^ gajyi^^ 9^ ^ ^^^m4 
 
 % ^;||;fhf||p wA«iri^^i^d min^ ia Jftw; Ipt, 
 
 iuta the lip of % i|[^oi]^p]|i^ ^ oi^^ pli^e, one qf 
 lese nunef ||8|||i^^ n|p: ]Ma#dr^ feet^ «J»oye i^ 
 
 rii^ whiflli %^pt j^|> |?af^ I^ ^|A mml^^ 9^ 
 m Nil *^ iif% >et tfeick, ffli4|ui:^Qj^ jj^^e 
 
 »PWi|faflf ^*f?| bas bj^A.iqg mW W ])llm^»^hBffi^T 
 jing Jirt|^ ^^^^^^ hf^^be hihpiii^kt 4pfnJ^ 
 
 this imiiMnae J^^ «» % ipjrt ??f M^*?' ^^^ 
 
M 
 
 TBI THIRD READia 
 
 instead of nmnlng right down the mountain, is mad 
 to nm eight miles along its side, thus blinking tli 
 rapidity of the down grade. 
 
 i««^ 
 
 LESSON XIX. 
 TBI Dbib. 
 
 CoM-BiNE', to unite, |rat 
 
 together. 
 A-MUs'iNO, making laugh. 
 yN-Li70Klr« Boi having 
 
 Inek. 
 Do-KiiN', abode. 
 
 LfoHEV, fiat plants grow 
 
 ing on roeks. 
 Ap-faoaoh', to oome near 
 
 to. 
 Park, large pieoo of ground 
 
 fenced ia 
 
 ONBof the moil graoeftil animals in the kingdom 
 of Nature !• certainly the deer. In the picture 
 yon can see the slender limbs, the wellndiaped head, 
 and the horns, whieh combine to make it so beauti- 
 Ihl. Theae are two deer, a male and a female, which, 
 after m hmg nm throu^^ the forest, have stopped at 
 the itream, to quench their thirst in its cool water. 
 
 S. There are many kinds of deer, of which the best 
 known are called the roe-buck, the Mow-deer, the 
 stag or red-deer, a^ the rein-deer. Bach of these 
 kinds differs m mie points from the other, one kind 
 being largSi another small, or one having large hoilis 
 and anoth« smaller mm. The flesh of the de^ is 
 called venisoi^ as \ m v#fy much sought alter, for ^ 
 taUea of jioh people. 1 't>m the horns inaiij ar^der 
 of UB». 99^ as knjie-handle% ire made. 
 
;■ - ■ t '■■ 
 
 TBI oua 
 
 M 
 
 3. The 8tagf» or Md<4Mr, is the taigest kind. The 
 
 iales have horns, tk« l^males having none, and hun- 
 
 |rs tell us that ,th^ can make out the age of a he-deer 
 
 the size of hia hoins, since the latter grow larger 
 
 )in year to year. The roe-buck, on the contrary 
 
 about th» smallest of deer, being only about two 
 
 |et in height It is also one of the most beautiful. 
 
 has horns, hardly ever more than a foot in lengtD, 
 
 id divided into l^ee small branches. Strange to 
 
 k, this deer does not live in herds, but in pairs, or 
 
 pettmes alone, and when its young are about nine 
 
 ten months old, it drives them away, to live as best 
 
 ley can. 
 
mf1f.'''r 
 
 THE WmD MMABMSL 
 
 4. Just the contraty is the case wiih the fallowj 
 deer. It is fond of liYiiig in laige herds, und it 
 8idd that there vm^sm piettier sights th«a i^ park oj 
 forest with a i^np^foer of tidiiif h<|«atiAil ^m* re^os] 
 ing under ^ j^^m^ trees> or eh#Biiig one ^^ther 
 graceful ^la^. In these herd«« one h^Ege buck, oi 
 male, isiRii^^ ^^ leader, and it H amusing to se 
 how few oi the herd he wi)l a%iw to apiffoaeh hii 
 those wfhom h^ does not %Tor ensnlng hu^hly awa]| 
 as soon is ho appears. 
 
 6. Tho^i|^ this kind of deer is, ^ the most pai 
 very tame, an^ allows people to come quite near i| 
 yet, at some seaeosM of the year, it will ni^t pei 
 any one i#i^ its, domain. 4t these timeil, woe 
 to the ttnlni^ upHon who venturea too near thi 
 herd, for the leadtor ii^l^^0mU^ IBml^ a charge 
 him, and injure him pretty MHy* If he is not nimbli 
 enough to^ escape. One good thing about thei 
 though, is that they soon get to ktiiow those wh| 
 
 lii^ be^ii.ki^lal^«n» *nd wiUereii «ftijNw tM 
 hends. 
 
 ^. We have jread somew)|<^ra that, at a oertahn grei 
 ^qlli^ in England, where there ore some of this kii 
 otde^r, it used to be a Qommon thing to let 4pwn 
 g^t ^f breeds by a etrii^g, from one 6f the wijc^^o^ 
 %|t Ipokjed, out m the piwrk. The deer w^ulpf qifcklj 
 
 t^ki8^% llWge cgr^st m their Uvife ii^i»th»,,iii^^ 
 \4ti|ig,|kt,it,\^til,th.ey had eat^n ^^ wl^olft ifrj^o^ 
 QUee IfitMPg H drojK 
 
 7. ^eTjBindeer is, perhaps, the miM^ <prip]|B of 
 these kinds of deer. His home is in countries wheil 
 
viPOLioir TmxsBom nn csitkohisil IT 
 
 [ere is snow on the ground nearly the wholft year, 
 ^t yet he oontrives to Htq by icraping a sort of 
 khen, or moss, fiom under the snow. Dmiiig the 
 jnter his cost grows thidcor, which shows us the 
 whioh the Ahn^phty tik^even of the dumb 
 Umals. The people of ^thiwe <o^iitriflB Qse this deer 
 stead of the horse, i|s h& feet are formed for travel- 
 over snow. He can draw a weight of fimn two 
 [ndred and fifty to three hundred pomds it the 
 ^e of tsn miles an hour. ^ 
 
 ■.'.?• 
 
 I I '1 iii 
 
 v 
 
 LESSON It. 
 
 N4F0LB0N TbACHING THE CATEOBISII. 
 
 o%E-oN, a gtM £m- Qitab'txbs, lr1i«ra one 
 
 )rofFnind^. 
 [NT HEL-KfKA, an island 
 
 which he was ban- 
 ished. 
 
 i'ti-fibd, strengthened, 
 strong. 
 
 lives. 
 
 Re-cite', to repeaJL 
 Des'ebt, waste. 
 TlfMULT, great ncnssi 
 Qhast'lt, frightful 
 i Oaf^hyi; a prisoner. 
 
 'HEN Ni^poleoii was banished to Saint Helena, 
 he had with him Qeneral Bortrand, who had a 
 kle daughter, about ten years old. One day the 
 jperor met her and Ba^d, "My child, you are young, 
 many dttfe%«lil ibiiritit ydu hi thd world. What 
 becoik(6 cf fbvt tf you lire not fortified by rali* 
 InT Coi^l^M^lxHmoci^olr,^^^!^^ I irill ijbn ytm 
 
 ir first wmM%, m^omm.'' 
 
^^"■•.(A • 
 
 58 
 
 THS THIRD READKR. 
 
 2. For more than two years she went every day 
 the emperor's quarters, where he heard her recite hej 
 catechism, and exphuned it to her with the utmoa 
 care and precision. When she had attained her sixj 
 teenth year, Napolejp#sid to her: ^* Now, my child 
 I believe you are wWl enough instructed in religionl 
 it is time to think seriously about your First Oonl 
 munion. 
 
 3. ^I am going to have two priests brought 
 here from France ; one will prepare you to live wel| 
 and the other will teach me to die well -' And so 
 was done. This pious young kdy, who, ^e migt 
 say, owed both her fidth and happiness to the ei 
 peror, related Uiese £MtB heraelC 
 
 4. On lone Helena's desert soil. 
 
 The victor's noblest deed mm done; 
 His battle tumult's ghastly toil 
 Such conquests rare had never won. 
 
 On that bleak <*hore one flow'ret stniled. 
 One golden sunbeam cheer'd its gloom— 
 
 His faithful soldier's gentle child 
 Adorned the captive^a living tomU 
 
 5. That royal captive^ day by day, 
 
 Watched the &ir spirit's bloom unfold ; 
 He turned its gaie on tru1&*s br||tht ray, 
 And showed religion's wealth untold. 
 
 He who had filled a world with awe. 
 And ruled its rcalmi wit3| kini^y radt 
 
 Turned to interpret heaven's h]|^ lair. 
 And win a child's poor aottllor dod. 
 
tBt ioim lELHtEMta 
 
 |6. Heaven sent its peace, Mrene and fkir. 
 And his crushed sfnrit found a balm. 
 When ihuB it decked a eovl to ahaie 
 The nuptial banquet of the Lamb. 
 
 And when Religion sent her priest 
 To soothe hia partirig strife, 
 
 His pupil shared her iiaster^s feasts 
 His last, her firsts pure Bread of Life. 
 
 19 
 
 
 •M^ 
 
 LBS SON XXI. 
 
 1!bB FOt& EUEEEMTO. 
 
 LR'DEN-EByOnewhoworks 
 {inagarden. 
 
 -LiaHT^Fm>, very pleas- 
 jant 
 |uNi<KB, one who hunts 
 
 wild animals. 
 
 Qix'LANT, brave, cheering. 
 Skiff, a small boat. 
 Pis-oust'ed, displeased. 
 En-dubiB', to bear, to suf- 
 fer. * 
 TfifFLES, little things. 
 
 WILL be a gardenerl" said Philip, when he was 
 
 fourteen years old, and was thinking of learning 
 
 [trade; ''it is delightful to live always among the 
 
 }een herbs and fragrant flowem." After a while, 
 
 }wever, he came home again^ and complained thai 
 
 was constantly obliged to be stooping down, and 
 
 iieping about in the BUrtb. His back and knees 
 
 begun tC:aehe, and so he had given up gardening. 
 
 2. Philip Tn^Sb wished to be a hunter. "It is a 
 
 It Wkr siid he» Vin the green, shady wood." 
 
 kut \m 'mmk came bade, and complained that he 
 
eo 
 
 tH» '^ii&b *tm^nMt 
 
 oould not endsm ths k«Giky evlj morning AsBtmlab' 
 dmes wet nmdi ibggy, aad aometiiiiM bitinglj edld, 
 ftad pinching hk-aiMa 
 
 HiB next idea ma to be a^ fislMirmtii* ^^ gUde 
 alonr the bright, dear stpream, in a %ht t^f^" fiid 
 he, " without ever tiring a limbl to (igraw tiets |9ii]i of 
 fish oat of the wat^)~>this is r^ pleasure !' But 
 this pleasure^ %lsp, soon disgusted him. "It ^ we^ 
 work/* said he; "the Watxb is quite unsuited to 
 me.* 
 
 9. At last he i^Molyed to be a oook. *To the 
 cook* ssid he, "t^e^^g|irde^i^ th«, l^nter, ai|d fish- 
 erman must hand over all thJi they obtain by iheii 
 toil; and, besides, he never oan want for nice things 
 to eat." But on<^ more he returned honie complain- 
 ing. *• It would be all y^iq^r well/' said he, " if it were 
 not for the WmM, But when I l^ve t9 st^pii ]t)^Qre 
 the blazing gmt^ I fe4j]#<^^^^ I would melt ajray 
 with the heat." 
 
 4. This tin?L9^ however, Philip's father qo longer 
 indulged him. He would not permit him to choose 
 another tiade, for the ^th tkne, hvd^ spoke to him 
 very sensibly. *^K yott wish to live 0pnt^tedly," 
 Bfldd he, "^ you must learn to bear the troubles of tffe 
 witii a manly spirit; the mMi who would eeeape all 
 the varied discomforts the FO¥B Xi^ilfSincs hi^ve in 
 store for us, must leave the world alt^thm^^ 
 
 5. '*If you but lemen^r the good which wiper 
 fails tc attend out f fesent circuflntsnoes, yoin kiid- 
 ships will soon appeaa* mere ^^ In your, ^es." 
 Ph^ foMowed his &^Jn^s advice; and al^^ 
 when others 0Oiii]^si&ed^leeonsole4^Mi^%' 8^^ 
 
 ■*S ..w 
 
 ti>i • 
 
 
 >• t^W 
 
^mmrJoaPB nveuf . 
 
 have lesRiei l|^ fBcperatiMe lihe meaning of tli3 
 |d saying : 
 
 What Qod permits, humbly enjoy; 
 Whatever His law demeA; fi:>rego : 
 Earth has no bliss witiMrat alloy, 
 And Heaven has balm f(»r aveii^ woe.' " 
 
 ■ <■» 
 
 
 iV'Oi'AXbi a 
 Savoy. 
 
 )R'BiaN, farft 
 ;'a-bakd, a 
 ish danoe. 
 
 nitihr^ dr 
 
 henna* 
 
 Cm'B^a 
 Btini 
 
 OHAM'Ott^ a 
 
 on 
 
 BACK'Wi^D, 
 
 ^0 
 
 histru- 
 di deei 
 baok. 
 
 1Pa»Nfiiit Is the well-kiiaw 
 Mf i^, my long-lost naiUv^ home 1 
 0| welcome is yon llttlo oot, 
 
 W^ere I shall rest, no more to roam. 
 O, I have tray«U'd far and wide, 
 
 O'er many a distant foreign land : 
 Eaeh p^e^, eaoh provkee I have tried, 
 And snqg and danced my saraband : 
 Bat all their charms could not prevail, 
 To iteal my heart from yondw vale. 
 
 2. Of dUtiiiAi diiilelH the liaiiid i«^ 
 
 ItvbM^ ibi tt>ve'^<^ 1^ sk]^^ 
 M(y lyrnbals und my saiabaBd. 
 
62 THS THIRD BSADIB. 
 
 The woody dell, th« banging ro«k. 
 
 The chamois skipping o'er the heights; 
 The plain adom'd with many a flock— 
 And, O, a thoupamd moro delights 
 That grace yon dear, beloved retreil, 
 Have backward won tny weaiy feet 
 
 8. Now safe retum'd, with wandering tir^, 
 No more my little home I'll leave : 
 Ancf many a t/ole of what I've seep 
 
 Shall wTiile away the winter's eve. 
 O f t have wander'd far and wide, 
 
 O'er many a distant foreign land ; 
 Each place each protince I have (arled, 
 And sung and danced my sarabfind : 
 But all their charms could not prevail, 
 To steal my heart from yonder vale 
 
 -::i^. :t^ 
 
tvMjLAsamvwm, 
 
 LESSON XXIII. 
 Ths Rash DivmL 
 
 tir6d, 
 
 re: 
 
 md: 
 prevail, 
 vale 
 
 rL'LA,a dangerous whirl- 
 
 Whihl'pool^ pool where 
 
 pool on the eoMt of Sir 
 
 the water movei round 
 
 sily. 
 
 in a olrclei 
 
 Erm'iNa, in a boiling 
 
 Gulf, a deep, wide pool 
 
 state. 
 
 Wbl'kin, the air, vault of 
 
 -TREATY, a request, ask- 
 
 heaven. 
 
 ng. 
 
 HiD'B-ovs, frii^tftiL 
 
 unt'ino, moekiug, mak- 
 
 Ez-flobk', to go through. 
 
 ng fun of. 
 
 Ohal'lbnOb, daring to do 
 
 BTSs', bottomless gulf. 
 
 something. 
 
 IGH on the immense oUff that overhangs the 
 
 Scylla of ^e Anoienta, stood King Frederick 
 
 Ucily, and by his aide the fidrest of Europe's fair 
 
 ighters. Often and often had he gaaed down into. 
 
 fierce, seething wateia beneath hun, and in vain 
 
 he ofibred the gold of his treasure and the 
 
 ^013 of his couri to him who would dive into tha 
 
 irlpoot and tell him of the fearful things that were 
 
 beneath the hisung, boiling foam. 
 
 But neither fisherman nor pnmd knight had 
 
 )d to tempt the Qod of meroj, and to venture 
 
 m into the dread abyss, whi<^ threatened aura 
 
 Jth to the bold intruder. And wh«i the kin|fi 
 
 Sutiful daughter onilfd npoB the gaiing erpwd 
 _und her, and when her aweet Hps uttavad w<MrdB 
 ~i;<»Qtly fHMa!!^y,tha spall iria wovafi^aBd ^ bfM 
 
 
 !Ut>^ 
 

 04 
 
 fdi %KdiE^ HaoMtL 
 
 heart Ibnnd tliat would do her bidding; Uragetlbl 
 worldly reward, and, alasl nnmindAi], also, of 
 word of the Alnrighi^, whieli tobidt tiM to ao rasl 
 throw away our lives. 
 
 3. He WM a bttld i^^mtt, iiS his oompaiiioi 
 ealled him Preaoo-Oolo, or Nick the Ficfh, for he livd 
 in the ocean's depths, and days and niffhts passe 
 wni<ui he spent in swimming and diving in the 
 waters of Sicily. From the very diff on which 
 \dn^ had jqpoken hia taunting words, from the ve 
 feet ef his fiubr, tempting child, Nick threw 
 isito the ra^ffog flood. 
 
 4. The waters dosed e^f«r hfm, hisdng ind 
 in restless madness, and deeper and darker grew 
 fierce wnirlpooL All eyes were bent f pon tbe gapii 
 gulf—all lips were silent as the grave. Time ssiem| 
 to be fit reMi: iAkO^^ej^kiMmimAeA ^llkvi^ btoa 
 ti beai BretOifaliMJi cadi \mb (\g^ bfeilti% fat 
 one diuredib bireak tli*'sMc6 HlflM ^AA IM^ %i 
 unthiEt^o^ 
 
 5. Whm M mi If mi 9SA %a^ 
 
 tfiidw^:il^«bMtt,'a]dl%|MNI^^ ilil^,iid 
 lOibk iWrlillin^ dot% oi ^ ^i^ bf l!hb 
 
 heaven, and as hib 4fm^hAoU ^ 
 
 ^wfiSt 'ifem Jim ^ mugmm wordi tf ' 
 
 pttftm %o hii ItalHfr. iM %^^ imm tfttni 
 ^9M «M»#4>^t Mi %dMi «teltolb ^,1ii 
 tift #yiii M^, siMl%he i(^eill^%^ 
 
 > ^ M ^^iM «i«ir <«$«b <ei^im i$ili^ ^ 
 bbMitoinn^ loll iSiM ;«ii^ w 
 
 SN flHI 'MM WtfVt iMWUHVu w llK^PiTIBnK wSi 
 
^^■fi*" 
 
 slosed upon bim. They saw Uie fierce flood tmik 
 
 wild haate; they ssiW the white iona aink down 
 [the dark, gl(»^i|i:tr gulf ; ^ey hea^ the thunder- 
 roar and the hideous hisiiing below : the waters 
 land the waters U^ but tbtihold, daring seanum 
 [never seen again. 
 
 This sininge tale is some^mes told in a different 
 It is, that the kin^ hurled a beautiful eup of 
 
 and pr^otts stones, mlM> the uigrjr waters which 
 had ever expldi^ and promised it to the man 
 I should 6rii^ it up. The challenge was taken up 
 
 handsome jounlf P%^> ^^^ dived after the cup, 
 [after beiiig down so Topg that aU thought him 
 
 came up with tile ^blet in histianct 
 
 It seems that it lUkd caught on tlie sharp point 
 |rock, and that was the way he came to find iC 
 
 re^jiesi |^,jQ|(|fc's#;il^ attempt, 
 
 Um tf^4^%mi^ Fmmm •» ^ pw the> 
 
 olthUs ){^yij{jp4l^ig!^ TBifi bold youth, l^de 
 »1{ i^ gf^tl^q^oC Afim^^» threw himr 
 
 B^t ^ lifi^ ifk^ myfA W <ihi s|iff gased m 
 
 v^ likm mn ^^ W !">» Mte m^ 
 
 ^nii of tiM Qoaaik eana the miflhtsr InyQews. ^^^^ 
 sank. nmnniaaii;; hossBalv. bank imja the deem 
 »ver igain rose' the harder youth, who, Ibr t^ 
 
ic 
 
 TUI TUIKD RBADfiH. 
 
 LBS80N XXIV. 
 Thb M18BS. 
 
 MfBWM, (m« who loTM mo- 
 ney lor ito own sake. 
 
 OsLk'n, o«t of one*! mind. 
 
 PBor^iT-iD, WM made bet- 
 ter. 
 
 Ata-biob, eagemen for 
 money. 
 
 Db-fbiybb', tekea from. 
 
 Oab'br, onnsed top stoiy 
 
 NiRy'0178-LT, like one 
 
 feai'. •, 
 
 CaxkKfisQ, hanh, gniii 
 
 sound. 
 Pas'sion, love for. 
 YiL-LAiN, veiy bad maa { 
 Or-FKND'iB, one who dc 
 
 a bad act 
 Tbem'bunq, shatdng; 
 Eb-gaps', get away. 
 
 fllHERS is a story told of a certain miser, who, fij 
 JL many yean, had been seraping and saving 
 the money he oould, that when he had got a prett 
 large snm he changed it for a lump of gdd, which 
 buried in the ground, near an old wall, and was in 
 habit of taking it up Teiy often Just for the jdea§i 
 it gave him to look .at ii Some one noticing him 
 sooftoi to this spot, followed him one day/and, 
 soon as lui haok was turned, carried ibff the lump 
 
 gold. 
 
 S. Whan the miser ibuiid he had been robbed, 
 almpat want craqr, beating his breast and tearing 
 hair, as yon see him in the picture. A young 
 who was passings being attrsAted by the noise, aske 
 him what the matter was. On being told, he pickc 
 up a lal«Ee stone, whi^ by near by. an^ advised H 
 
mmm. 
 
 i^ 
 
 rretcheci miser to bury that instead of his gold, as 
 lid he, "it will bie as much good to you as a lump 
 ' gold could have been buri^ away out biT slgfit'' 
 
 
 i , >,♦< ' 
 
 ■Sm!^%' 
 
 .4^5:-^^ 
 
 s^l*- 
 
 ■ "i'^TBUV. 
 
 .;;//«''■ 
 
 .rj/y/.f^jjl^*'^ 
 
 ■^Si/f:'"'-"!'^'-t^''' 
 
 -'v"^<>V,Vf /-> 
 
 [3. We are not told whether the unhappy man prof- 
 
 id by this well-meant;advice ; but the lesson ve are 
 
 learn is, ihat money is only given us to be made 
 
 |e of, and that, if put to no use, it is no better than 
 
 much stone. There is no vice more foolish, as well 
 
 wicked, than this of avarice; for it is one which 
 
 only does no one else any good, but deprives the 
 
 rson given to it of any pleasure he might otherwise 
 
 joy. The miser is always afraid lest some yne 
 
 mid snateh from him the money he loves no much. 
 
 [4, The following story will show in what copatani 
 
 sad the miser lives . In one of the oldest and nm 
 
 "^^Qij 
 
r owm l fireeto of a oerlifai laigt e^jr, mi ild aai 
 
 eommonly oAlled ** Father John/' Uttd in an MieieQl{ 
 two-tioiy hovM, whidb wm ao aha^ 70a woold 
 ihat tYvy atrong wind woold Uow it down. Bni th^ 
 did man did not oare ; he had livad n wy long tii 
 in thia hooae, and, aa he naed to mj, ** It haa at 
 the atorma ao long, now, it will aively hpld oat 
 loDgaa I want ii** 
 
 5. People Mid that "Father John" waa rmy liohj 
 but to lee him going aronad in hia ahabfay, 
 dothea, that looked aa if they neyer wiM new, yc 
 would not think ao. One nighty he had been oui{ 
 pretty late, and when he came in there waa a.troal 
 look on his worn old fiice. He carefully batTed t) 
 door after him, and, , lighting a amall pieee of oanc 
 went alowly up two flighta ol atair%'nutil ha came 
 the garret Iiooking nerrously around Mm, he 
 up some rags that lay hei^ped up in one oomer, 
 with his two bands drew out a laige bag^ which 
 brought over to the light, and opened. 
 
 Q. He thrust in his hand, and drew out— whatj 
 Why, a handful of shining coins. Odd it mtm, the 
 that was in the bag! Tea, the gold whiob "Fathc 
 John " must have been many a year in gathenng; fo 
 when he emptied the bag upon the floor, the heajj 
 waa quite ladga And how he did g^oat over thi 
 gold, aa he counted it oyer pieoe by piece inta 
 bag. To judge from the look on his hard fiic% 
 was the greatest pleasure of his lih," Sd^ was, 
 for "Father John** was a miser. ^ 
 
 t. When he had it all counted, he tied up the 
 again and put it back under the heap of ra^ Th^ 
 
69 
 
 j went down ftalm dowly, and, blowing o«t lili «an- 
 
 L lay down on his bod. Bat ho ooold not doqp. 
 
 [e gold kopt danoing boforo hii eyot, and, though 
 tried hard to think of aomething also, no other 
 
 )ught8 would oomok Thon, aaddonly, ho thought 
 heard a noise np-ataii«, like a board creaking. He 
 sned, and aoon he heard it again, and then he 
 in to get a little frightened; for that was his 
 Btant fear, that lome one was coming to steal his 
 
 Id. 
 
 He strained his eiffs to hear--and bow he oonld 
 
 longer be mistaken, for creak! creak! went the 
 
 up-Btairs, and erery now and then he was sure 
 
 heaid some one coming down. Tou should have 
 
 |n the look on that old man's face, Mid the way his 
 
 began to stand on ond! What should he do, 
 
 the question ho now asked himself, for there was 
 
 unly a man, perhaps two men, in the house. If 
 
 I went up-stairs, he was sure to be killed, and if he 
 
 pped down and out of tho house, his bdoved money 
 
 [uld certainly be loei 
 
 So strong waa hit paarion for hit gold, that eren 
 I life was not as dear to him,, aud he resolv^^ to go 
 and drive away the robbor^ or die. va I the 
 Iter curaea he mattered against the villain, whose 
 [tsteps ho could hear so plaiidy ovodbtad, as, pale 
 trembling, ha saiiad a heavy «l«b, and made his 
 softly apHrtiirs. Aa bo got nearar tiMgarrot,he 
 the Bcnaea still plainar, and ha wondwad at the 
 |dne« oCihi iobbers. 
 
 10. His phiR of attack waa ta open the 4oor.sud- 
 iy, and, bvptiag in apan tha lobbar, ksMk^hiai 
 
 i ^. 
 
 

 
 TOB^TBIItD BMDXB. 
 
 -.« f i ^ 
 
 70 
 
 aown irith his duV 8k>, dicing into the room, hJ 
 
 miSS a blc;^ at s^ olpfc wiiict he Wk to U th 
 
 o^er, in^ ^^haT was hii wrprise to find that iJ 
 
 had '<mly iqiocl^4 c^ whiet had beei^ 
 
 rtindimtthf;;^/ 1^^ fbilowed ^is atiAcl 
 
 and. fewing to ^drajce, li^' «tood trembling. waHii^ 
 
 for the imwaa W)bbwrw|iw;«iid4enl^^ 
 
 out sprim^ cot, and, ^lidii^ ttirou|i Uie ope 
 
 door, left ^ini alone. 
 
 ii. iid th^ "iiii* foolish old miew was eo %ra|| 
 np in hie belove^ gpld, he had pnt hi^ *» «> f H 
 trontie, ittd^^Mlir^*^^ ^^^"^ <»«* ^ ^,^'1 
 by a poor ciMi/^<*'.'^^^« «^^ wilh^imearl^ 
 in tKf e^en^ feom^e »^^ it^ W ^ 
 
 to ^ giwl, «oi^d«»i ^» aia^liy roioii^g atoni W 
 the cn^ wapag floore, in itii eflbrW ^ ^^^ 
 mi^^^ n^ w^ ^1 
 
 ■i jl I i i i i i> f » 
 
 LESSON XX T. 
 
 %'.', -Je 
 
 MuE'aiim, to whisper vety 
 
 krtr. 
 PLT'pta, using, hanging. 
 
 I^BHCWH'rars, grow* long 
 lUK^BiftNO, following. 
 
 
 -•ft. 
 
 *. i^» »irtie wind nurttai Jpw, 
 
 senile day 
 
 ■/ . 
 
 

 ' -T J 
 
 is«lC to 10 mticj 
 
 We^^e dowly d»wDWardt» 
 In r '^lit of the short. 
 
 Our inoming wip^^iflj^gi^ 
 Whikt piyiDg t^e ov. 
 
 t. The blae sky is oloudlessi 
 Tiie water is dear; 
 Idpilii play Iqr the stream 
 WhU^ in mummrini; near. 
 
 Still on m thaonominff 
 Shedi iroseale %ht; 
 
 life's osies hav« not hid H 
 As 3^ firoBi our si( 
 
 71 
 
 .«-,»"■ ^ VI, -4 I 
 
 1^ Mrpiiir^^ siniugHlunal 
 l€ai hssten away» 
 I4ke ohildren pur8i|ing 
 
 |4|e bl^i^ and Jile Jiagraiiii. 
 llP^htwitMsawayi 
 
 I. And lengUkMi the shadows, 
 AniiiMlethtlieli^i 
 ttt <iia^ctil«s loid d^ 
 
 Near draweth tlM aighi 
 
 % 
 
TBI t!HllD BIBAPtBi 
 
 liBBBON XXVI 
 
 iLNQSLS' FOOTSTEm. 
 
 LfLAC, a spring flower. 
 LA-BUs'NUM,a sort of tree. 
 DrA-KOND, miNri predous 
 
 of stones. 
 E-tsr'mi-tt, time without 
 
 end. 
 Sa'oba-mknt, a means of 
 . grace given by Qod. 
 
 CON'riBM-A-nON, CM of 
 
 the seven sa«aramenis. 
 
 Fbr'vob, warmth of love. 
 Pi'b-tt, fondness for holji 
 
 things. 
 O&'OAN, musical instru- 
 
 ment nsed in churches. 
 An'oni^, pain of mind. 
 Sur^nB-nrafl, pains, ills. 
 Qurr'KB, tremble. 
 YlL'unF, a hollow between { 
 
 noimtains. 
 
 IT was a lovely morning^ in May, and the snn shone 
 merrily on aU aronnd, making the dewdrops on 
 the likes and labnmwns spftiltle like diamonds. Sit- 
 ting iB a gazden, nrhieh seemed to vie with eveiy athei 
 in tlia,richn«» «f its beauiy imd fragrance, wm a 
 little blne^yed girl about five years dd. Lovelji 
 flowers snnomnded her on al sides; Imt she did not 
 heed thwB. She was thinking; and ijery earnestly, 
 young onild m she was; bat hm thoughts wer« o(| 
 heaven, nc4 of earth. 
 
 1 Xva Mxa^mBi, tot that wis the Httla giifs name 
 had been taken to «iass thai daj^, lol the flrst ^mt, 
 and the eohoof that Divine seitiee tSA aetii 
 to ring in her iMS <^ she hiiii Ike angels' 
 Moments passed, ai^ttiillCvftiiiM^ in tha asm 
 place, h^ violet iffis fixed en tiM di s iml hiaiM». 
 
iirOKts' fOOTSmv. 
 
 » 
 
 ■he would haTe peireed their depths, uid looked 
 rough eternity itself Then burying her ^tce in her 
 
 lands, she sank on her knees, fjmr, thoii|^ fidnt and 
 
 \ar distant, she heard cmgeUt foot8tep$ ! 
 
 3. Tears have gone by, and our little E?» is now a 
 lovely girl of sixteen. In that holy place, where first 
 ler infant lips were taught to join in God's service, 
 |he kneels, dressed in white, the rays from the stained 
 j;lass window ieiMgo^e^ her veil like a glory. She 
 
 one of many others who haveoome to strengthen 
 le vows made for hei^ in baptism by the sacrament 
 ^f confirmatioii. 
 
 4. Hpw 'fervently each young heart beat during 
 lat solemn time, and how earnestly the people pres- 
 
 Int prayed that those now so full of youthful fervor 
 Ind piety might walk forever with the Lord. Tes, 
 |nd there were Mer lookera^on, Eva felt it now. 
 rain she heard the angels' footsteps— -but near0r, 
 
 5. A oHange has come over our bright Eva; for 
 [ears have passed* since we ibaw her, and she is now 
 
 wife and mothw. This moming—oh t happiness— 
 )r darling has been made, a child of the church, 
 radly the organ pealed forth," mingUng wi^ the 
 noes of the singers; but^ dear and distinct above 
 1, Eva heaixl the cmgeU* focMepk 
 
 6. The room is darkened — and sadly bending over 
 iT infant's cradle is Eva Spencer. In ^e few years 
 lat have {Msssed, it is sad to see what changes have 
 3en made in that street &oe. Her loi^ bright cnrla^ . 
 [hich ondiiyi in such beauty over hsr lihoulders, 
 ive bed| llt^effied U|i under a widow's cap, apidmur- 
 >w lis traced wrinkieson her girlish brow. How 
 
t 
 
 m4 n^ iiii ka^^J^k^ W lliil M U 8he 
 learoelj^ Mnowb. 1k has ibeeii-au 111^ a piuait io her 
 lOe iM djii^ling toolt i&e fever. 
 
 7. PoQr Eyitt $b mi nd(^ ilm J^urmnff hiand in 
 hets, ADclllsw^iiaitl to tae low JBobs of pain, she prayed 
 ^tk bitter ex p'JSi for on^ e^ange tfiikt woiil^ end its 
 ■raenngs. And to-nlgnt n^ prayer seemdd to nave 
 be^^ heard, for the phud alepttas die tS6iitfh|, ffreetly. 
 Oh I how gt^t a relief ii waa to 1^ sore hvwi^ 
 
 8. i^Or a ndom^'ni Eva lett her sad pi^iu^ scHlj 
 st^i^ lb one of i^e ^ndoTts, opene3 u«^ di^tter. 
 The moon shone in brightly^ Q^a^lfuig the^aracehain- 
 
 6^; a^^y un^d wii& more lU^n eitf Uil^ J^ 
 filial now fuW it^ey 80vmd--4iie ai^geii^ ^<>oteiUps. 
 SM rusB^ to y^e crfidle. . Xeat l^ere l« ii6 «>abt, 
 
 0. Y^iur^ I^ quIeiJy on ; aM deieiiih wm come soon 
 tb tiy p)d lil l^ abke. iut % this gbo| Chris, 
 tiaii ^ Jbalir 1 tlie<aumgi:^%i% 
 has no «^m^ for God Has imtten thfte m letters 
 whi<sii iui^ ev^ way: "Bi^Med are we <iead who 
 a^in m liori'' ^ j^ 
 
 iilac& fniSdi ia one as wl^ Eva mM6^^ fi£^ /^^ to 
 (he chvrqb, now shincb upon heir death^be^ jilie haa 
 ri^vM i^e iasi ftfbc^^ the prayer has been 
 
 riidA:^i8^ika8ingaw^ v 
 
 are 
 
 ,*J 1 ^K! 
 
 
 ipal 
 
 /■ 
 
 

 wtM f "JfUfrT 
 
 »A 
 
 iand; ^ )iii ftWiv*^, ^4 tiif «oI4 4r<H>9 «*«l* J»I»a 
 »er b|^W, Dga^ fi4v|u^(9fl^ wMil» ni|e mk4 rupicl 
 ^tridet; but abe heeds hm npl* fp? #boyi^ aII ^ 
 leara^the Anosls* Foorsn^ 
 
 ^19if|| XXVII 
 
 Africik. ] fgl' ' 
 
 '^|t,ppint«4t<K!nr of 
 
 seve: 
 
 a point at the top. 
 
 I*. 
 
 » ft 
 
 ^uare 
 
 Bai/ange, having equal 
 
 ireiglit <m both sides. 
 Fia1P0SB» use, iatentjuon. 
 
 N Eflnrpt mair be ssmi oiui of the most ecurioiiB 
 
 works of srt tha^ men have evier mad^ There 
 
 no less than ihree very large struotfunes, which 
 
 rojn l^eir haviog Ibp sideui, lall meeting in |s point at 
 
 [he t^^ «ra cM^ed P jfrai^ds. ' The pi^nie j^ows 
 
 rou the'laigest of th*^!^ cdd^poking b^lld|iip|^ ^^f^ 
 
 known sd'the "Ores* ??l*mid.'* 
 
 1 We 4f f <>^ ^ow |iOW lon|f the Pyra|Qaids h|^ye 
 
 ^n I^^C for who the l^ilder wjw, thoi^b^^^^ 
 )eo]^e sipr th| Ii^ieest one was tl^e work of (S ottH^n 
 
:^'rL-i^ 
 
 
 vrn^m 
 
 76 
 
 
 of history, who lived two thousand years ago, tells m 
 that they were built nine hundred years before our { 
 Lord came on earth, which would mak^ their age 
 nearly three thour^and years. 
 
 3. You may imagine how great must be their size] 
 when, if we believe that writer whom we spoke of, it 
 took twenty years to build them, and during that time i 
 one hundred thousand nien were employed. The 
 " Great Pyramid" is about four hundred and eighty 
 feet in height, and covers no less than thirteen acres 
 of ground. ItJs more than one hundred feet higher 
 than the steeple of St. Paul's, in London, which is 
 one of the highest churches in the world. 
 
 4* This pyramid was not built with a solid firpnt onl 
 each of its sides, but waa l}uilt in platforms, each 
 smaller than the other, thus making a set of steps the 
 whole way up. The height of each step was f^om 
 two to fi^ fiiei. Ai ilni« it is tkought. these stepa 
 
THB FTBA1IID& 
 
 weM filled in with Btones, thus m«kiiig the matMb 
 quite amooih. But ihese stones must have fallen out^ 
 leaving the steps bare-HUid people are thus aUe to 
 go up to the top. 
 
 6. It seems that this going up is no easy matter, 
 since the steps are so far apart^ and» if a person looks 
 down on the way up, he is apt to become giddy, and 
 fall. The stoiy is told of an English officer, some 
 years ago, who, when trying to ascend the Great 
 Pyramid, lost his h^noe, and rolled down to the 
 very bottom. Hia body was picked np at the foot^ a 
 shapeless mass. 
 
 6. Those who do reabh the top, often cut their 
 names into the stone, in order to leave a record of 
 their visit; so that yon will see up there names in 
 English, and French, and Greek, and Latin, and all 
 other languages. This top is thirty-two feet square, 
 and made of nine laige sUmm, each of which mi^t 
 weigh a ton. ^ - • 
 
 7. The inside of ihese carious buildings has not 
 yet been fully explored, nor does it seem likely that 
 any one will ever go to the trouble of visiting eveiy 
 portion of structures so very large. About fifty feet 
 up from the base, in the Great Pyramid, is a small 
 door leading into it^ and those who have gone in have 
 found galleries extending for a gireat distance, ^nd 
 several chambers. We^'have no doubt but it would 
 be well worth while to explore these strange placed. 
 
 8. Forichat piirpoaes tl^ese Pyramids were built is 
 not clearly ]known» since the manner in which they 
 are built does not show what they were intesided for. 
 It is the bsHel of many, that they were used to bury 
 
 ..'i?lS'. 
 
 >4 
 
f^r 
 
 'T^v»-w« '':', 
 
 /8 
 
 THK 
 
 SB. 
 
 ^'ai3aa,'Aiia8<^el]^«lsoi»i6ii^t i^ Ht^ weri| 
 i^i^^iid wlili title r^on drii^ toiii^. IV^at 
 
 amongst the wondera of the world. 
 
 >'*•• 
 
 LESSON XXVIII. 
 1^ Fikiiui^ tk tj^fnmi. 
 
 Poyia-TT, want cf meana 
 Hps'n-TAL, place tm the 
 
 Pbo-tiot', keep Mfe, 
 gmurd. 
 
 IJN'-MiN'aLKDiJQpi mixed { 
 . with a»y thing. 
 Ohar'i-tt, alm% What isj 
 
 giyen to the poor. 
 An'oub, a comer. 
 
 ITOTBRE in itti m «lid hedttlfiPul Wf^i "To re 
 1 ceive IB hixtmy Bit 16 ^ is GkiM^^llteiJ 
 in other words, means that there is reaUy a'!&r^^tei 
 pleasure in gitihg ^Bik ik^ i^y^. ^^liit^^ is 
 trae, k proved hy the fblk^i^ l^;hii# t^iltt %y 
 a wMhy d66t;^ iTeMl 1kil|^ l^i«,'^m iWn 
 wtiniB. ,.. "■ '"" "■ -' ^\: ' y' 
 
 aUeys of the ci%. The iii|ht as dark lyod^Ma/itid 
 (jbe ground wib'<iover«idw%h liM>w. The 11^ iiB so 
 ocM that t^ h!^^^/^#^^ ^ t^pn^'^dj 
 
 ioi^ki^, am ilt Wit» ^c^iml^Wsi^M It&y cle^ 
 
 Mni Wto, a% a dls|to^; 1>ut t edttid Udt iiii^a l^t j 
 
 1^ woi^db^'^i^r ah^, lifesyeohiiifii^t.' 
 
 * !V/fe,iv"4ji >„ 
 
 
'^i-'i-i- 
 
 THE PLKASUBK OF 0|ViN<l. 79 
 
 3. fitowever, I had not gone much nurthin*, beibro ) 
 iw,by the light of a lamp, an old, gray-haired. man; 
 /alkinff wearily before me. He was bowed nea^y to 
 le ground by the double weight of ^verty and agt. 
 
 [q a faint voice he was asking '^a charity for a poor 
 lid man, for Qod's sake and may J ^us and Mary 
 lless and protect ye." But all the doors were '§bni, 
 [nd no one came /OUt to give him any help. £yery 
 Ine was busy with the mirth and fun going on inside 
 
 4. They, bdng warm and well-fed, never thought 
 (f the poor creatures outside, who iiad neither food 
 \oT fire, Uke this poor old man, whose weak voice 
 
 ley could not hear. His back being turned to_me, 
 
 18 did not notice me until I quietly stepped up, and 
 
 r ij ■ ' i' *'■' 4>i 'i ■* * •' i' '4-'^' '' 
 
 ropped a shilling m his hands, saying, *^l nave no 
 
 lore about me, or if I had you should have it" 
 
 5. It was but a smaU sum, but T had eicaTcely thrust 
 in his hand when he fell on his knees, in the cold 
 
 low, andxried^ "Oh! then inay you, good sir, nevjor 
 ie your purse without plenty of money, and dod's 
 flessing With it Amen!" And the big teais burst 
 rom his eyes, and he coiilid say'iio more. He fainted. 
 tapped at the nearest door; it was opened^ and we 
 )ok the poor man in, Slid laid hiin Mi a bed near the 
 li-e. With proper ca^ lie soon' got beiter. 
 
 6. I then 1m him to tJl^ kindn^ of the good 
 romah, pK^b^% io eDmei)a& hext day to see how 
 [e was g#tii»g on, and iio'pay W f()r 1^ trod^lft 
 
 ^hen I came hext inomink, imagme whatmysur^ 
 [rise mustlii^'^elk whin^ the w^oitnail iold me da^UE 
 [e was her fikther, whom she had not seen since she 
 ras i^itm^^ ^ age, iia £t titaft tiiaie ha ir«iit 
 
 '.M^M 
 
m 
 
 fmt TBJMD WPAI*«fl, 
 
 on board » Tenel bound to the W«it !iidi0% mi 
 soon after the report ctame that she wai ]oit» with 
 hands. 
 
 7. I ooiild not but wonder at and admire the wsj 
 of Providence^ aud feel happy in haYuig thus been tl 
 means of restoring the poor old man to his daughtai; 
 and procuring bim a good home for the rest of 
 days. His story, whi<^ he then told» was briefly thii 
 ^'Onr ship was wvBoked*'* said he, "on the coast 
 Ireland. All hands bitit me were lost^ and I was oi 
 saved by being oaat aahore by the waves, all torn ai 
 bleeding. A kind-hesrted peasant found nM^ 
 took (sate of me nntil I got well 
 
 8. I made my way over to this dty, and j^t woi 
 in a ship-yard; bnt one day, leUlixig from the mast 
 a vessel^ I was ao badly hnrt that I was sent to 
 hospital; bnt very UtUe conld be done for me, and 
 soon as I was able to walk again I had to leave ii 
 was thus reduced to begging my bread, and in tl 
 state it was that you found me. Oh! kind sir,** 
 added, ''how can I thank you for your goodnessj 
 fiCay Qod and His Angels protect you and guard yotj 
 forever I** 
 
 ^. I felt happy, not so much at the blescdngs whk 
 this good old man kept invoking upon n^e, but becaus 
 I had been able to relieve a fellow-being in his (3is 
 tress. I had often spent money on all sorts of pli 
 ures, bnt I must say, I had never spent any whic 
 brought me so sincere a pleasure as th^t whi^ I ha 
 given to tkJs poor man, for it was immingled inth 
 'ea&t regretw 
 iO. i SKiU fo myseif. then, that I would trv. for 
 
 \ 
 
, • i 
 
 IBS 000 AT TBB OBAVm. 
 
 81 
 
 AitQi«» !• tpend a greftt deal mor^ in eharitj than I 
 bad erw dome before. I have done my best to keep 
 m/ word ever unoe, and I ean tell yon all, that there 
 is no pleasure like that of giving. I would beg of you 
 to remember that the Scripture says, "He that giveth 
 to the poor, lendeth to the LordI" 
 
 •^•^ 
 
 LESSON XXIX. 
 Thb Boo at the Grayk 
 
 LN'oui3H,great grief, great 
 
 pain. 
 
 tuARD'ED, watched over. 
 Jlow'bd, burned, kept 
 
 bright 
 IWAXt rule, dmnUiioii. 
 
 Con-tbol'led, ordered, 
 
 eomiinanded. 
 Oa-bbss'kd. petted. 
 Quiv'Xft^iNO, trembling. 
 Moubn'ful, sad, pitiful. 
 I SKSL's-TONythe bare bones. 
 
 HS WILL HOT oonal" said the gen^!e chil^ 
 And she patted the poor dog^s head, 
 And pleasantly called him, and fondly smiled, 
 But he heeded her not^ in his anguish wild, 
 Nor arose firom his lowly bed. 
 
 Twas his maatei^s gmvt^ where he chose to res&- 
 
 He guarded it night and day ; 
 The love that glow'd in his grateful breast, 
 For the Mend that had fed, oontioU'd, caies^'d, 
 
 Mi|^t mrmc Me away. 
 
 And wiM the long grass rustled near, 
 Bsttiith some tlavellsr^s tread, 
 
 
 ,1' 
 
 
for ^e |h^l||'firff li^^ of that vmx^ 
 
 4. Aiid,flometiiiiit» wImd * storin drew ni^ 
 
 And the elaudi were dark and fleets 
 He tore the twf witfi a mournftd cry, 
 Ab if be would Ibroe hb way— or idle— 
 
 To ilia muoh-loYed maiter^e feet 
 
 5. So tbeie, thnmgl^ tl|e ei^inin^? ^*^^® ^7» 
 
 Till autumn nights were bleak; 
 'Fill his eye grew dim with his hope's decay, 
 Ai^ he pjped, and pjfifd. and K^f^d awaj^ 
 
 A akeletoii, jjBf^t and weak. 
 
 d. And pitying ehildran <^ten broughl 
 Thctr otf^HngB-^mcAt and hreai); 
 And to coax him away to thdr homes the^r sought | 
 But his bturied lUend he ne'er fdxgot» 
 
 And uie jHM>w la^ deep |nd h 
 And his moaaingj^w Winter day )>7 <|f7> 
 Till there on the spot where his master lay, 
 
 8. And w|^(^ hf f(|ngglf4 ii#l^^ 1^^ 
 
 With one loud cry, Oiat ipippk ||e pli^p. 
 He calTd Ibr his master, but all in Taiii-^^ 
 Then slirett^U IkIdM^ «^ 
 
 .i'^^^SM^I M^^ 
 
wU^filligi TBf fOM) 
 
 « 
 
 XiSSSON XXX. 
 
 OiMMSiira TBI Bra> 
 
 »M>I'^ 
 
 P«oy'i-Diifoi^ wttUhlbl, 
 
 Dbt-sbop, with dry Ibei 
 E-OTPtUNB^ the peop]« of 
 
 l^gypt 
 Mm'A-CLft, flomething that 
 
 only Oo4 oould da 
 Ds-TSb'bkd, )[>revented. 
 
 HghtDiog; 
 
 [SACfBi-riai, an offbring 
 made m an altar. 
 
 I PLAQUE,a dr«ad£iil econxge, 
 or punishment 
 
 |Stbick'£N, afflicted, pun- 
 ished. 
 
 {Wil'deb-nesb, a wild, des- 
 ert plaoa. 
 
 Ie-liy'eb-id^ freed ix>ip, 
 set free. 
 
 [Egypt, a ^oiintiy ^i A^- 
 ca 
 
 |pHAR|p[, |ing |if liiq^ 8^ 
 il peopfe did n<^ retora wl^ii th^l^mdayihe}^^ 
 i>iven th(p tap iptp t|e wiM(^0|p |> ^^ i^^jiW? 
 lad' pafis^j^ef^^ 
 
 lis handa; Sf |^# ||ie ternme J>}^^^^ intb irhiBl& 
 le and hSfi j^glf ^ been rtin^^wi;^ l^ heceme a» 
 iard>hearted ai{d <^^1 as iMpDra, aipid reiolTed to 
 )urBue the Hebrews, whom he had so long held as 
 Slaves. He assembled his sabjects, and they, i^shjng 
 L> recover t££'pi»oicU objecls^^^ 
 taken wii»h |^a£^,^cbl^^ him in the^puisi^i "'^^. 
 2. Wlien t£y Hebrews saw 4he dauger they were 
 ^n— in a wilderness/ with theli&my of Phiuraoh oii 
 )ne sids of itheoi, a)^d on |he other tlie sjoft— their 
 
 J.m 
 
 -.-A. 
 
84 
 
 THE THIRD READER. 
 
 terror caused them to forget how they had been de- 
 livered^ by miracle, from the hands of the Egyptian 
 king; they forgot the good providence of God, who 
 had led them on their journey through the wilderness, 
 by a pillar of cloud during the day/ and a pillar of 
 fire by night. They began to murmur against Moses, 
 and to mock him, asking if there were no graves in 
 Egypt, that he had brought them to die in that desert. 
 
 3. Moses consoled them in their distress, and prom- 
 ised that the Lord would assist them. Then, when] 
 Pharaoh drew near them, with all his host, Mosesl 
 stretched forth his arm over the sea, and the wavesl 
 divided, leaving the way clear for th« children ofj 
 Israel They entered this stran|{e path thd waters! 
 
OBOSSINO THS RED 8BA. 
 
 85 
 
 rising up like great walls on either side, and they 
 passed the sea dry-shod. The Egyptians were not 
 deterred by so great a miracle, and, belieying that the 
 sea would remain for them as it had done for those 
 they pursued, they boldly entered it. 
 
 4. But Qod soon convinced them of the difference 
 there was between them and His chosen people. He 
 sent thunderbolts from Heaven upon them, so that 
 they were seized with fear, and exhorted each other 
 to turn back and fly, because the Lord had declared 
 against them^ and in &vour of the Hebrews. Whilst 
 they were trying to escape, QoA commanded Moses 
 to stretch forth his hand again over the sea, and the 
 waters which had been divided, joined again, and so 
 utterly destroyed the B^gyptians, that not even one 
 remained, . 
 
 These miradea attesi the mighty power of God, 
 and they ought to teaeh vm all how dreadful it is to 
 offend His awful majesty. He who is aU-powerftii>* 
 He who created us, and who pieserved us firom all 
 mger, wishes only that we should* in return, love 
 isnd serve Him. ^ we do. He will pour down bless- 
 ings upon us in ^his life, and will bring us safe through 
 its troubled waters, ad He brought the Jews through 
 the Red Sea ; but if we foiget Him, and do not try to 
 serve Him, nor keep His 9oly Law, He will destroy 
 us, as He did the Sgyptiana He is a Qod of good- 
 ness and of mer^ to those who love and serve Him ; 
 but He is terrible to those who defy His power. 
 
'A 'J,''^ 
 
 h 
 
 THB THIRD RBADIB, 
 
 I, V .-.' i.. 
 
 &v 
 
 iiESSON XXXI. 
 
 syy-i 
 
 ,|f a'tiv|i, boni in. 
 
 Vp'i*BT, hollow between 
 
 ,,.IAll8.. 
 
 0|-jsr-a'tion, wopkj pro-' 
 
 LEis^URe, &piirB tUne. 
 Pat'ted, tipped gtioitty. 
 Li'QtJtD, Mik. 
 lu-ito- Aak, beloi^gi% toj 
 I £uro]^d. 
 
 X by DOiiinff tne leaves oi a suiuuy ijavwu wu«^ iHi 
 
 tsiint, i^',n|i^of '^ich cointrie^ H iia^m^tm 
 
 % fi1SiievSrgwwi,iind pWg to tibe ieight of ^on 
 
 -green pi 
 1 in ChiM thert are a great Many tea-ffxmM 
 
 ^ on "the ifoiti^ m^e* <^ <i? W% ?^«» *® ^°^j 
 isUglit, imir^, fijid well 4^^^^ 
 raieeil ^in seedj and, ae a rule, jOlowed to grpw three 
 yea^ h^c^ a erop of leaves U taken from ihm ; M 
 thia ipw^on, of oounse, injures their growth, evenj 
 w{% care1l^fiw»me 8tu^ of no hmw* profit 
 
 in^^w^y ten ye«».. .,,,, ,, .^ :.. < 1 . 
 8. Men Ae crop ia ready, the leaves arecarefuii 
 
 picked by hand, on© by <m#, and there are three 
 four <^ these lUfti^ in w^ y^ ^ ^«* «« 
 M the i»|»ing being of the moiit vala*. A w«3^grt>w 
 
•'■ ■-■* .-^'M 
 
 tIU. 
 
 
 btish>elllK©lft iy% <if, Witt giVe twp or thrSee pounds 
 lof tea ft year. When intended for gt^ 'lea»t^^^ 
 Ieav^%i« iMr ySx^^'io^ fxa 1tii%m or two 
 iffcer ^y^^i^hlg. 
 
 4. "ib^^^dft^ito^nliito heated roastiiig-pans, 
 )laced ^vir> %^%^ then itii^ With the 
 iikMB,%iM iM^ ib lynlktn i^ir a Ibwinihutes, and 
 i^rolM% lMiia% alilile'bc^e]^ with mats ^ 
 ihd liWlraili%iili^^^^^^ a^. The color 
 ^8 by this time set^'iH^ the pitlceii&^ir lortitig and 
 roasting again, which, for the finer aorts, are repeated 
 several times, may be pift off till a leisure time. 
 
 5. Black tea is really the same kind as ihe green, 
 )ut prepared ill a different nUinn^r. The leaves are 
 buffered to remain a longer time, perhaps a whole 
 lay, drying, beforb^ejr ^ire^rMfbd; they are Vussed 
 tboat and plotted whilst drying, and are finiUly dried 
 ^ver a much slower fire. 
 
 8. It seems to us veiy strange, the way the Chinese 
 ^se the tea. Th^y drink it pure. They put «» iiand- 
 il of tea into a china basin, or cup, and pour boiling 
 rater ovj? it, and drink the liquid i^us made, eith^, 
 rithout anything in it, or sometimes with sugar— 
 )metimeB with salt and ginger. Imagine how your 
 iB, wotihimt^, ii'liisbi^^ithf^ikor^gr^?]^ 
 7. Intlto^ibbtt^ti^^ '#iUlBeiB a gbi^'in^^ 
 lops by tkeioid^<fe, #ith'the rtM in fi^oiit shi^&d 
 a tljii^, Ib'Bip off'the'syh Mil tE^ie #hb'l% 
 take % la|> if -t#a. The t^leavei, #hen liidy 
 use, lire Mk^d in ^i^s, and ^i-iidd iFrom the 
 
 Irms toUlenliiiiM ti^, 6r ^mal, wheni^ey'l^y^ 
 jut l(^wn "^16 "fte Ula^MCtot^ there '|mt on bdaro 
 
TBI THIRD BEADia 
 
 the flhipt which trade with other countries. Id thij 
 way we get our tea. 
 
 8. It is about two hundred and fifty years ago sine 
 tea was first brought into a European country. Tha 
 was in the year 1610; but it was not used in England 
 until fifty years after that. At first it w/is very dea 
 there, being worth fifty or sixty shillings a pound 
 Quite a change from such priees, in our days, whe 
 tea is so cheap that the pleasant dr^nk it yields 
 within the reach even of the poor. 
 
 ■♦•♦, 
 
 LESSON XXII 
 Thb Match-gibl. 
 
 Tai<tbb-kd, torn, ragged. 
 Roam'sd, wandered. 
 SmyEB-iNO, trembling. 
 Sa'vob-t/ pleasing to the 
 
 taste or smell. 
 Pbo-jeot'jed, went faHher 
 
 forward. 
 
 HuD'biBD, gathered up. 
 HoWl'bd, cried with a 
 
 m&l sound. 
 Sput'tbb-bd, made a his 
 
 ing noise. 
 Wad'i>lb, to move one wa 
 
 and the other in walkii 
 
 IT was bitter cold, and nearly dark, on the last eve 
 iog of the old year, and the snow wa^ filling f£ 
 In the cold and the darkness, a poor little girl, wij 
 tattered clothes and naked feet, roamed through 
 streeta It is true, she had on a pair of slippers whj 
 •he left home, but they were not of much use. TI 
 were very large— so large, indeed, that they had 
 lonfi;ed to her mother, and th« {}Ocr Jittle orealwre 
 
tries. lo thii 
 
 THE MATCH-GIRL. 
 
 |oBt them in running across the street, to avoid two 
 [jaiTiages, that were rolling along at a terrible rate. 
 
 2. One of the slippers she could not Hnd, and a 
 ►y seized upon the other and ran away with it, 
 
 ing that he could use it as a cradle, whe^i he had 
 
 ildien of his own. So the little girl went on with 
 
 ir little naked feet, which were quite red and blue 
 
 |th the cold. In an old apron she carried a number 
 
 matches, and had a bundle of them in her hands, 
 
 one had bought any thing of her the whole day, 
 
 had any one given her even a penny. 
 
 . Shivering with cold and hunger, she crept along. 
 
 II' little child! she looked the picture ot misery. 
 [e snow-flakes fell on her long, fair hair, which 
 in curls on her shoulders; but she regarded 
 m not. The cold winds blew, and the snow fell 
 the people were hiin-ying hoirte to their brigltt 
 
 ■n^i-M-ui iJn. 
 
m;, 
 
 ***!, 
 
 i 
 
 W ^ mm ?»f^^ 
 
 matchM. 
 
 4. Lights ware thining from areiy window^ aii| 
 there was a savoiy spuf^ of ix^ goose, for it wa 
 New Tear's Sve. fcf, j^f ||^em|bered that In 
 comer, between two hptues, oqj| of which projecte 
 beyond the other, ship sank diifm, and huddled hei; 
 self together. She had d^wn her Ut|ie feet node 
 her, but she cpuli^ npt ^e^ gS ^ ^Id; and si 
 dared not go hoD^e, for i^e h^ mid m> matches, anj 
 could not take hoi^e even a penny of ino|ii§^. He 
 father would certai|)ly b^ her; beside||^ it ^ju |iinc 
 as cold at home, lor t|iey had o|!iIy tho iff^ 'iff cove 
 them, and the wmd lio^led t|rai||^ it, i|tthQ|ii^ ^^ 
 largest holes had been slopped up wi^ straw ai 
 rags. 
 
 5. Her Mttle hfwic|f! in^re flJNflft ^^ W# *^ 
 cold, ^kl pi^rhapi a ]b]i?miQg in|tch 17%^ ^ ^^^ 
 gOfpd, if sh© pou|4 dy^w ij %i|^ th^ bu^d)f, i|»d 
 it sgaipst the yraXi, just i^> i^rm her fingers. Slj 
 drew out pne-TT-''f^7fttchI^ how it fp^aj^r^^ m 
 burned 1 It gi^ye a varm* f^^ HS^*' S^^® f^ ^H 
 candle, as she hel4 ^^ ^^Jt^^l ^''^^ It* W F^ f^^^3 
 wonderful Jgh^ It /»ee^e4 to the }^^ girj I? if 
 were sitting by a JjSrge'j on Stpv% ;f|% Bo|l|||«4 H 
 feet, %nda br^ ornament on tp|^ 
 
 6. ]Qpw the fire bumedl ^d it mffmsd fp wo 
 a<^<^ oomfprtable, that the ^lild fMk^md mt hi|r f<^ 
 #s ^f ((0 warp th^D», wh^, lo! 1^ flame of the mat 
 ^<Kut c^ji^jb, ti|o stove vwulshed, and ^e had only 
 riBjonusii^s of thp hidf^burned maioli in her hand. 
 
";';?J 
 
 low It ^iHfil Ittrrod oni^ 
 
 kite tdblCh^^dr, oE #m^ 8t«^ I bptendid dinned, 
 ^rvicd, iia fL Itdiii&g r^iii goB^ gtufi^ witfe 
 3ple^ kna ir^ ^tbtt Ijld mil W^k mn mors 
 onderfhl, di f^ j^^M ^bM M& tile di^, atia 
 [addled ^rdS» M^ Eo6t, with i Iki^ diid fork in itl 
 reast, tb Ii4 lit^d giB. Then Hi^ j^ii<^ weh>; out^ 
 id Ihel^ iM^^d^ iotMi^ b^ m mm, dJtmi), coia 
 iallbefblifelMk 
 
 8. She lighted another match, and then die found 
 erself sitt% Mder i mtitiM ChH^tn^44-t^. It 
 iaJrg^ Ind ptettie^ thftn Ihe bitie she had seen 
 [rough the gl&ss-dbbr 6f a pand hdiam. 11i6tisanda 
 
 tapel:! #iis Mriiin^ ujibk ihe jg^e'en branchei, aiid 
 llored pimm, like those ^i^ }M d^en in the shop 
 fnd6\^i, l^kid do^ n)^6h it aU. '!3ie itoe oixe 
 retched '(6ithir1ia^d ton^ards them, and the M^ 
 mt otit. V^rJ'lad, tod reiy cold, was the Kttie gii-l 
 
 lat d pity ftifer ^tch irent out jtist th^! 
 The dft^hiaiB lights rose higher and higher, 
 
 they looked to her like the stars in Uie skt. Then 
 saw a star fall, leaving behind a streak of fira 
 [ome one is dying/' thought the little girl, for her 
 grandmother— the only one ^ho had ever loved 
 Ir, and who was now dead— had told h^ that when 
 |tar faXk, a soul was going up to God. ^m afisain 
 
 ^1 
 
 ■ •:»' 
 
it 
 
 t^M THIBO BEAl>ii. 
 
 robbed a match on the wall, anct the light ahone round 
 her; in the brightDess stood her old grandmother, dear] 
 and shfaung, yet mild and loving, in her appearance. 
 
 10. "Grandmother," cried the little one, "oh I take! 
 me with yon. I know jou will go away when tbel 
 match bnms out; you will vanish like the warm sto vel 
 and the roast goose, and the beautiffil Ohristma.s| 
 tree." And she made haste to light the whole buDdlel 
 of matches, for she wished to keep her grandmoiherl 
 there. And the matches glowed with a light that waJ 
 brighter than the noon-day, and her grandmother hadl 
 never appeared so huge or so beaiitifuL She«toold 
 the little girl in her arms, and they both flew upwards] 
 in brightness and joy, fiir above the earth, where therel 
 was neither cold nor hunger, nor pain— for they werej 
 with'Qod. 
 
 11. In the dawn of morning, there lay the pooJ 
 'ittle one, with pale cheeks and smiling mouth, leanj 
 ing against the wall She had been frozen to deatl[ 
 on the last evening of the old year — and the Nei 
 Tear's sun rose and shone^upon a little corpse 1 Thj 
 child still sat, in the stiffiiess of death, holding thj 
 matches in her hand ; one bundle was burnt. " SI 
 tried to warm herself," said some. No one imagine 
 what beautiful things she had seen, nor into whi| 
 glory she had entered with her grandmother, on Nc 
 Year's day. 
 
CHRIST AMONO THE DOCTOKa 
 
 93 
 
 LESSON XXXIII. 
 
 Christ among thk Dooroita 
 
 (x-am'ple, motlejj, pattern. 
 Ie-lig'ion, faith, worship 
 
 of God. 
 [o sAN'NA,a tenn of praise. 
 
 ScBiBi,a writer of the Law 
 
 among the Jews. 
 Bb-timbs', early. 
 BLAS>PH£Mllf, to '2urae. 
 
 1. TTTHAT blessed examples do I fM 
 VV Writ in the Word of TruUi, 
 Of children that began to mind 
 ReJJisioD in their youth 1 
 
 
 
 
 \ ■ 
 
,,:J!^W 
 
 % 
 
 WW once* chad wyouog^Vp 
 Yet be obeyed »»^"'°'^''*r 
 
 g. SaBxuel, the cba^ ^*^ * ^ •* 
 - towOtupon^ei^ 
 
 ■Kmotby l^etinwi ^«Pf ^i*" 
 
 ' WW V» Holy Word. 
 
 |ia,«*iy'|h<«^J*»'"°'?'*^f 
 
TBB cat or MABT 
 
 Ik BftW^t 
 
 r 
 
 *^^>" 
 
 
 al 
 
 LBSSON XXIY. 
 
 ^HB Cmr OF If ART. 
 
 years. 
 
 ^iLDS, d^erji p^eei 
 ^pe'cial-ly, i^ (| 
 lar manj|||r. 
 
 man. 
 [ol'o -NT,a new miilpmmi, 
 )l'o-nist, a peiBon Myii:!^ 
 in a colon J. 
 
 )Und'bi»s, a 
 
 I founds, or hegkm. 
 
 
 I.RO-9UOI8, ) %iJi^of jsaX" 
 Hu^BOM, I agea. 
 J^iOTE, ah ^ in % 
 
 flfOS'jPI-TAL, a fyt 
 
 tliie siisl^. 
 
 IJP'CHI^, a Iwfy of, xm\ 
 
 ^|;^'^-NA-RT, Im!^ nae^ a 
 
 
 JHE city of Montreal wa» Ibrmerly called Vill&« 
 I Mane, 01* the CSty of Mary. It was commeBced 
 )ut the mi4<iie of the seTenteenth centiiry, by plbofl 
 and women from France, who len» their beiwitinil 
 
 t ' • ? .; I ': 
 
 'i'^ ,«.»-lf'',';- 
 
 intiy to go and raise np a city in ^onor of the ^-'^ 
 
 Issed Viiipb in the wilds of Ifora iiier^ci! Ilii« 
 
 they biMt on thi island of Monweal, in the S»ni 
 
 rrenoe Irivar. I&e Queen of l^eiven hail !ier^)if 
 
 leared fsev^al times to otie of her &^}iM serrlni^ 
 
 r»nce, ^'told Uia «t|« «Uhk to Wqwd.^ 
 )redui thaiinaoe. 
 T^ i^iiimm'^iii' CkaaAi #aa then o^^Ikd Hew 
 

 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
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 M 12.5 
 
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 1^ 122 
 
 2.2 
 
 2.0 
 
 gu& 
 
 
 L25 |||.4 
 
 llii^ 
 
 
 < 
 
 «" - 
 
 
 ► 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WIST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. MS80 
 
 (71«) S72-4S03 
 

 
 V\*^ 
 
 
 I/. 
 
 

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 [ 
 

 i , s 1 • >1 
 
 «. Amidiw |io^ My *<« *«^ **^^ • 
 Hotel D!«». « luxpiW *Wai rtitt •»li»«. -Pfl »• -"^ 
 
 ^o« ir«^ta*i «M«» «!'»•« «!!•*,«»'• ^^ 
 «J^taliriM«iUidl»dto1iMitN||. jLtrwelidueiN^ 
 
 ide 86(4 pridli fit iU*f* »«w edoi^. ^-Oier, 
 
 otk. 4)tl*p5«l|i«»» *«»>*«(• J* i?**^ 
 
 od ftaw (Siii^ilM «■ ^'**'^ '^"'^ **^' 
 
 tlM ^0^ <2^ lt<wtt«J. Ttay bnitt «lwwcli«»iMid 
 
 tthm *to* iiwi.«»!»<>^,'«^ *•"*," 
 
 >.^»^^lilfiH» How »««. a»tat Sm^ .'^J^ 
 
 t4^ 
 
 /.'i4 
 
 
THE BIAB. 
 
 99 
 
 tBSSON XXXV. 
 The Bkab. 
 
 [Clum'st, awkward. 
 |Fe-ro'cioT7S, fierce, savage. 
 |Ac-cep'ta-sle, pleasiiig, 
 
 agreeable. 
 llN-HAFrrs, Hves in, dwells 
 
 in. 
 jEx-TBBIfE'LT, very much 
 
 so. 
 Swit'zeb-land, a countarj 
 
 in Europe. 
 
 Pr'BE-NEESf mountaine In 
 Europe. 
 
 Prr-FALL'; a pit dug to 
 catch wild beasts. 
 
 As-cent', going up. 
 
 TBE-MEN'Dousyvery strong, 
 YerygreAt 
 
 PBOB'A-BtT, perhaps. 
 
 A-muse'ment, sport, pas- 
 time. 
 
 
 ^-mL 
 
 iRUIK, as the bear is very often called ti^ hiwrf^ 
 duoy^lHiimal He wdks with the "wlMta oi his 
 
 nasAt 
 
x:,-'^-i'- 
 
 Ai 
 
 m * 
 
 m ilitir pftir%. or loa«. Thm «r» M^aral kiiidi 
 baiiiy wni tlifty «iu^ iti wt eiili^r uiSiiiftl orng^labl 
 food, 10 thai ft Ug U alaita»v • pot of hon^, a 
 
 he it ^ond iObo lii SyHilcntetd, «^ la IIm |^|^n^ 
 Tb^ pdoi^ of Hoi^iifim &fii^ &a«l^lt wilii ii^^ 
 ilffi; uid^lito H Ml iiiqpii and |i^ ^^Pt^ I 
 Mlrosoiftttloteibrlioii^ ti ii lii^ «h^ Iko^ 
 wiflh l» «il^ ^ beir ia ihoM not^Mm Mm! 
 ]^illbe4mttl4|^Di|» iiiftir9^» and pl«Bi kiig npike 
 round iho foot A hamrf log of wood la tliaii 1&un| 
 
 the toyi ia nmnnlalia fBba |Mii» laMla !&• hanei 
 
 •nd 'MW MHi ia JfildlL^ "liiiriaiiiik 
 
 hfli iiMilWi liieliti(i!,1bi JiJIioafciflf Htfili 
 
 meaiMii'^lli iitti w iaiir« <llil^>liJl#-lb'4tt Hb ei 
 
 to ^# 1^ i|W w ffy%^ jiw# <i# l l b - ^W 
 
 hordfiM tlioh«a4 !Ei^ MttlMa hba.^NiP* ' 
 htr ^oteil am^jModar than ofnttv Ml i* «a)jr 
 
 "•t-^ 
 
 .I^Jbrt itt ana tuy* ihan km iha^ 'ImUmmL -iiui' 
 
 
lit 
 
 lock b«iii|r iiui i» itrika lilt litid sviify tet^ vntil 
 
 lasfe a VM Mirere Moir 4»ii«i mmi lowbki liim 
 
 iy off tbf taM OB to^^o gpttM ImIow. Th«D he 
 
 cau£^t hf «li« hua<^Q9ai, 1^ ^ iimM in lUigland 
 
 ebear naed lo be btiteci, iliat is to mj, llie bear 
 
 [as tied iiQ(mfdt,9mdmmtnX dogi w&m eel «l Mn, 
 
 le objeet bdbt te eep wlietlwr ^e bewr eoi^bite 
 
 iedog%evrii»d4^ bile the beir with tlie greeter 
 
 irce. ThmmmltwfiQ»ikh^ Biui en 
 
 longer beiledJw eniMiBeiii 
 
 5. The QiWiy Beer lei^ aMJelteeeend^^poweiMl 
 ito &iii%^ dmd le eie lUEdmiat^ 
 
 voided et ihi^i If f Oviidy $m enee e^i % 
 it Witt Bujel ^ely eblse bim, end I10 wiU «iid^ 
 
 hard Id eeeepe^ 49 Amfitma iimtXU0im wm 
 [tely, tbel be bed been ehe«ii neerly iO^ m^ 
 
 one of tbeee bears^ who w<mld pfoblibly beye^Wt- 
 med the ikeee m 9M»7 "^ IW»t^JW^ 
 
 38ede wide rirer^ eirev wbii* % >ev #1 j^^ 
 ^0086 to IbQvwbim. 
 
 6. The beer, W^ mo(4 eoittiiK ii tpy piMiQ^illlde 
 [ kind treetnitnt^ till iifiay be tiN^ed i^^ liweb 
 [fficulty. Mbel boye end f^ iffj^ m 1m^^^ 
 
 citiee or to#iieb beife jwea beini lif^ Iii> 
 the eo«M^ rf TB^fua^ Joer j|r|ri||t ||i| 
 my ixmU ttol j!ery well eniled 1^ ^(ip^ 
 
 I is a oiuioae ei^ht to eee e gieal 4iefflcy biiur etead^ 
 on his IM U|p» Aid liHyving to % i<^ of • 
 
 iltz, or iKSittl flfOiiir merty e^reinc^ittiiilik "^ 
 
 ■ ■,-.'?'3 
 
 W. i^ff^^^tr^: 
 
in 
 
 1. 
 
 
 l-BStdWf XXXVI. 
 
 The Bust; 
 
 •tion. 
 
 JK-nWn-ui^ «iUat be. 
 
 *%^ paiw.' hrt^ iwrtUiib. sou u« «mr 
 
 4 S.ttt**"""'-*'^ •■''--»• 
 
 
 M^^^^^^^j^^a 
 
mtmtf. 
 
 m 
 
 pen Add w mU M in tfce Adtered gsnkii. 
 
 .th their gpM«lMM«sMd tip* of deHe«(« pjak m 
 
 Hg th^ l^ooprf he«l, to d.efo M ^^ 
 Uk-iIK^tk. lttd«»p^ without 4 «a„ of grmtrf^ 
 " T f^ ^ **«^ who* pwvij^, 
 peoiaUj to be to gladden the h«ttt of ehiWhood. 
 4. And W^t toi«*>^ metoorie. of the pert erowd 
 m *»^^f^*% *« «me when, with totteriiur 
 let ud bMutdbg heert^, wj» fiB npm the iweid Md 
 lutched in ohfldfah^laortmi <tf q^tfkKii ditiaiee- 
 W>en the iMnh. Ih*t «4ke<l «po8 th* iS*le Hm 
 
 Id how titMly do we wen the deep ewMta^' 
 hth whW. i^^tedied^ ^ of n«4rSfc 
 
 met, mo^ |«iil t w«U iii|r um 
 
 «& 
 
 ^;iwk^i^:d<nfc^ 
 
 vis 
 
 " ■ ''M 
 
 
t;>'^f^''^i;^ 
 
 ft 
 
 ► ! ' 
 
 
 v^ * ->' 
 
 1, »m««*«i.i*fc^ »«^*^«t^ 
 
 V 
 
 
 's.*i^ '- '&, 
 
 i <<**:•><' *; 
 
 Give' 
 Give 
 That 
 
 Lay 
 That 
 Upwil 
 HereM 
 
 Bend 
 1 cam 
 Ihavel 
 Tell 
 
 J. Ye8, it 
 Thus, 1 
 Ye3,T 
 Fare'^ 
 
 
% Very] 
 
 IM^ 
 
 ani 
 
 
 Heaven^ }i«reV glor^t^nr^ u t]i« bttlUei 
 Give u« thi^.chem. wd let ih« dnmis mttto ! 
 Give iMj^liget, bbjNf^Jiveiui — - gt^j. 
 
 Thafc WM nqr death-call, boy»-.but I «! leMy . 
 Lay me down geaUy, boy8-.|pi41wr aroimd me: 
 That wie ^ retidiMtt «ii^ ; ye^ iNut it f otwd iMI 
 Up with tlie flag, li^gre^wmve it beforo me I 
 Here it iggrmd WH^irmim iMt&^^stm 
 
 Bend your ear» doato; «^«i 8tili»eir«e»f 
 I canno^aee you-nwy, ean you hear tne ? 
 I havi %mothe?, widow'd and hoai^,^ 
 Tell lier i diei ^^^tMmg^^^i 
 
 Yes, itbgiiid, h*^ gt*^ i^an IiWi^-. 
 Thu9, for my oouiiitijr, love ^nd life ftyimii 
 
 
 lAi 
 
 * ¥ 
 
 l»*-,; 
 
 M 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 fc|,^^~^':- 
 
 1' 
 
 
 9 
 
 iRii- 
 
 ■ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 |f;|j 
 
 I 
 
 % V 
 
 
 ^^^^^^^^■k^ 
 
 ^^^H 
 
 ^dl|t^...;> 
 
 s>ri;^ 
 
 ?>' 
 
m 
 
 » 
 
 I-BSSON XXXVIII. J 
 
 not 
 
A VAUOW nOiPE 
 
 107 
 
 {Disguglad with liimMlf and ilM woild, he fell iato 
 Idespeir, and leeolTed to take away his own Ufa H# 
 lireeted Ua itapa to tha baoka of the river. He wai 
 labottt to piimge into tlie water, and thna find the end, 
 as he ihcmght^ of all hia misery, whan ha heard a 
 I voice e^r* ^Taka eaiel take eara t" 
 
 a It waa tha^«Mea of aoma aaOon on a vessel near 
 [by, whom, in tlie WtalQrhed state of hia mind, he had 
 not seen. Qa h(* fiie idaoa, and, following the eourse 
 of the riyar, m '^v ^t » mora retired spot^ where he 
 might put hia fatal iatantion into effeet more seoorely. 
 But, while walking ahm^ a thou|^t suddenly stnu^ 
 I him ."— "In another qiparUr of en hour thii body will 
 be dragged from tiia rive^ and carriett/ to the dead- 
 house ! But my aonl I iny immortal soid 1 where shall 
 it be ? * He stopped, thought for a Urn moments, and 
 lumed badk. ^ r 
 
 4. Bntei^ tha eity, he ibund himself in a street^ 
 ihroni^ '%hieh ha walked from eod to and without 
 inon^lg Irhare it would lead ta At the end of tha 
 street he atopped again, and, ralring his eyes, found 
 hirnseM! befbra the door of tite Ohuroh of Our Lady 
 of yif^bpr&a, Something whispered to him to enter, 
 and, obq^ing the iinpulse^ he went in and sat down 
 near thi pa^^ : jl^waa tha dusk of the evening, 
 and the ]i|^litBi^iiry<^^^^M burning before th4 
 image <>g tha Btosaad Tirgin Maiy/ attraotad hia 
 
 5. Tlllnjpi^iiaaaef their light suddenly revealed 
 to him^lMHr ^aag4 JU this nght he ^ sc^ strange, 
 80 pomli0i m:M^j]§ oome over him, which he eouM 
 notaai^Atav^t haroseupaftd mudied Oteittjhe 
 
 
lU 
 
 'mmmtiDm. 
 
 ctateli « ^oUgh emupiag firomtlia iMiadtof some 
 hidHdii teemj. Putii^ the wliol# niglii tb» wrotdiedj 
 y^mgtaanwm imttfmdhy iMIi «tna^ tMrar;a!id, 
 mImcoqM diMover neither tim cftiueBmr the (triginj 
 of ^k iMuPy he molded to retnni liestt moiiiiog to the] 
 church. 
 
 ^ At ^e vety ftmt dawn of day he dneeted hisl 
 Btfpe egitn to Our Lady of Tictoriee, led on^ ae hej 
 saM hiiLselC by a power to which he had i^^eld. 
 Scareely had he entered ilie idiurcb, when his eyes 
 tianed eagerly towatde iAxe image of our Holy Mother, 
 at the fliet of which was kneciling an aged oriest. 
 Tfba young man i^proaehed, oftUix^ ont in a loud 
 vdee,«Ghl»|)fherr The holy itfieet turned round 
 and eaid^ '^Wm, my^ear IHend ?** 
 
 <«Indeedy flir,''^plkd he, <M don't know wl^ I 
 called you. One thing is very certain, it w«a'nt to go J 
 to eottliBMien.'' 
 
 t the jg&od fiMiier mildly answereit ""Bv^ my 
 Aiend, there ia no Question of eonf^Bsi^in. Ton eeem 
 to M'lo he in great tronbla; what is the nnttttr I * 
 
 <* WeU, ye% eb ; the firat ie, I am yeiy ead. I am 
 veiy ttMcnd^. I paased hdbre thia chun^ yeefter- 
 day, and enioed. I aoold no^ he^ eoming/badK here 
 tya nofnJng; And, etrange to ai^, I find yon heve; 
 8»l mtuA ^ttm yon pr fceMnga" !Eha good ptimt 
 Bilindd to tha alMbut whidi te fwxo^ man gave 
 him, and was about to aay some consoling wotcb, 
 when Hm peer ^lUoWittddenlybafal k^4mmmd 
 dairat^m to hear hia eoBlbedoni 
 
 ^ 3^ victory wae^N»i. fiie B^Tiii^^^j^ 
 ^mmm pmfm, had mmim^ Mmat tmit^^m 
 
»t,f.-7 
 
 tarn MXtKtmat nmtium. 
 
 and des^ • dool wkoae ttertud lo» mtHMA ««iflilii 
 From iktk h«[^y noBMnt aii ostke «yaig» tooii 11^ 
 in fchii *irtl •b «baM, to thk aslttre #0 di#i«ed. 
 5ot many yeaw after, tii# foiHii iQaH 1i»w m^^ 
 became a priest, and went to seek amongst safages^ 
 in fortigtt la&^ the miiition of sonle^ ansi, p^iaps, 
 
 Wiim 
 
 .T-.#-iiii' 
 
 tBi AnM^ Mxint 
 
 to M^iNrHaw ooontiy. 
 CuA^Ti^O^tl^ ^alitiea ol a 
 
 penuQ, or aatiaiL 
 Dis-Tanw^, ffnpieioii* 
 
 ^Qiy^nritoiia who lias been 
 I oaui^ 
 
 w 
 
 ^IPN Ilia tet s^tiini froil B(ip<^ ^ilai tito 
 
 race of Men dtilbringM mMiy ways Itoil ^^Jj^|^ 
 This raoe U Mio#ii aa Iha ibdh^, aM, (^ WS^nsf 
 fche «to oif thdf O^ tliey aaNi ai^ 
 They a«e diirldad iiilo • iminber of nations i^ tribes. 
 2. 13ift abMiiliir fif t|Wistnaage i^we was one i^iiib 
 caused i^e settea to loolt apon them with distrost. 
 It mi^ha Ihut ett aeeraiit ef the iniai|r«hidi has 
 always ^MA between them asii t& wbt(n*li» ^ 
 
 ter hiwl «*!• ^bifar «w^ ^W^ »^*^ *^ ^*^ 
 
 reiiy u^ mmmm-mi^- any H we iua t^ iliai 
 the Indiana are eruet deceitlW, and «hat fc^iey new 
 
110 
 
 THE THIIiD RJEiLDER. 
 
 foigive an injury; as tbey look updn the whites « 
 robbers, who kavo taken from them their hinds, it is. 
 not surprising that lihey think it only right ^ctill 2 
 many of them as they oaa 
 
 J't'M.'^'^/>\iig C-^ 
 
 
 3. Olcounae, some tribes of the Indians who hav^ 
 lived oniliebofdevsdf our States* have changed their 
 ideas in this respect^ and live very quietly, side by 
 side with their white neighbors^ but the more remote 
 tribes still cherish a very bitter feeling agaiiist us. 
 The/Indian character, however, is not , without' its 
 virtues. They are said to be strict loveni; of truth, 
 detesting none so much' as a liar; in which trait w*' 
 mi^t take a very good e^mple from them. The^y 
 w(ml<| minre any Muount of sufilmng n^^i^b&n 
 betrsy a secret which th^ had promised li -keep; 
 and ifc^ are» moreovoc; noted for hearing i^nse 
 pain n^thoQt flinching^ 
 
 4 Id pencil, most of the Indians are tsl^ and 
 •pmfy Mlt; with Um$ hhtk hsir having ^wn 
 
TBI 
 
 ilNDIANl. 
 
 Ill 
 
 on thtir ihoulders, but bo . ^«rd. It ii, bj the wtj, 
 almost unheard of to see ao Indian weanng a beard. 
 The oolor of their akin is reddish, though the effeet 
 of the son and weather upon it givoi them a mueh 
 darker hue, ahnost blabk. In old times» before thej 
 began ig^ copy afber^tha whites, they used to* paint 
 their fa6eB and breasts in several colors, in order to 
 give theti&elveB a frighi^l appearance. Theb object 
 was to inake their enemies afrud of their very looka 
 
 5. In tii&oae times their only clothing was that which 
 they made ci the skins, of wild beasto. ft is Tciy 
 seldom now that you can see them in their andent 
 dress, as it is <Mily those of them who liye &r away« 
 beyond the dwellings of white men, that dress accord* 
 ing to tiie savage custom. Some of the tribes living 
 near our borders do^ now and then, come out in Ihmr 
 ooBtume, and it is eertainly a very raunge ona 
 
 6. As a general thing, the Indians are quick as 
 thought in their motions, very filst runners, fine hotse- 
 men, and sure shots^ with the gun or the bow. Iheir 
 delight is hunting and riding, which, in old times, 
 together Ihen with many wars, took up their whole 
 time. 
 
 There is a stoiy told in American history which 
 mil serve to diow how little mengr they used to show 
 to »\k(h ol the white men as £dl into their hands; 
 thouj^ in this case, one was foand amongst them to 
 take i^ty on the poor prisoner and savie hii l^k 
 
 7. Oi^iil^ohn &nith was takeft captive by a tribe 
 of Indkns, iriMse king was oaUed Powhataiu^ Hie 
 unhsliy miMi, docnied to death, waa dragged in Iront 
 of the ktag, his head laid upon a lai^ stone, and a 
 
us 
 
 IH 
 
 powotiil Jb^mii raiabd die adg^^ dal>nl(yi''#is 
 iMAli hb iMiiw ottt^ «iid myi ppfe ftboulFio fltvike^^l 
 l^ieAliiliti% ik« iirai^itor ol ^ei^iftiiii, ain^ 
 ^H^r liy^lM MUM deftlli wlaoii Snitii^vmv^^iilt 
 wtoH^^Nlii HIP ^ bti filler ittdbofged bim to «pfl 
 llw«tiW[i|fM% IiAl Me ttliii^ to do e^ii^ito Pc 
 JiobIm im to wlMre Smilb iegr and beai ber lie 
 ^ef#«r Im, deeUdriBg tiuit 4|i» U>w wMc^ llioi^ kil 
 Ite^ iiMBteta»ke ber fini Emp fiiUpr veemoted 
 iOHli iMMiMd Mfc «f ]i» daii^tor, «nd 11^^ 
 ^helile if Sinilii» iniie iriM aol «i^ ii^^ 
 '.-elMwI^&iie. I 
 
 ij ii iir i ti i ii j ' iXii 
 
 liiil* 
 
 ite Boo w^, BmmumsfB. 
 
 Scttn^, what pUgdiiiis 
 ried ibcar food in. 
 
 Tow'ii^iie u|^ pirt ol 
 Wiighfbiiildiiig. 
 
 TTll^WII.'LSNO.Lf , tKf nst] 
 
 liofttt» lo 
 idty. 
 
 |1EUlli^tD«t%ft pirn df luster.] 
 
 X rpSftY toU tbei on aeinfc BectMMid'filaaiii 
 g jiiii mttt^fe l 111 MisSMrtoii^ oEiin. 
 
 •^{({^^^••(•''•■i^'WBW""*''*^*^ TlBf^ ^I^^^^F^^^'^ ^w^^^^w^^is^F^ ^p^^^^^^^^y 
 
 Tboif/BL deed to uttlieiidir- 
 
 Ligh MoimMn in 8#itft- 
 
 WciB^iVO%'tim% tt tod 06- 
 oiinraDfie. 
 
 «iiftoiii. 
 B»-it1rL'i»at«D, $A% lorn, 
 
 iir^ii f.'^hX'jtMlKfiUJ'Jiii 
 
 jf>'L 
 
Oft mtju hmmA tib#«nw ; 
 ibr, irhm lite fytfliBg ittIF 
 No tMk ii lifl to^idfep^* 
 
 1 Tim iMNb bMHOiMfi maikdom, 
 ▲ ttraiigar jfwnif^ift* iiigiit I 
 Bli hei^ WM h&m^m bis lrt«4 
 Si»aerif aloD»iiMili#it 
 
 He bftd nol tftitdl fo^ 
 And mmy mn iMmt lie bad not; hvawa 
 Wliiflh iM^r Mb i^ 
 
 9. AndiftlM^BcmTeillbeHhadr^^ 
 To hail tbe pilgrim ueftr. 
 It eiillitftdiiiiig in vw» Jiftto^— 
 ]&WMto<irtofaeir. 
 
 And ihoiiyi ibo iiiondiig^M dUMsloM 
 
 9o litti 'Mi«ild4>e^# notttoM iigbt^ 
 Ei li«d not BlfvDgtb to gOi 
 
 lift 
 
 T» 
 
 4 Taloro6«idif»M>iBortelnHA 
 Tlittt niglit to tlMk ibe eloMJii} 
 
 Ko 1^ QilHi^ 
 
 ▲ iMIlBMlbSMifr 
 
 *. 
 
 Hud «Mii^ 4l»d«g «o io»a^ 
 And tyoog^ ^otiiiOM^iii»iiiii^ 
 l^filili^ 
 
Il# 
 
 IBB TBiBp BIAi>ia 
 
 ii And if it be too nmeh io say 
 TbAt pity §ftv» him speed, 
 Tb Hire he not unwillingly 
 Peffom'd the gfliMvoae deed. 
 
 Fior now he listeii% aod «BOB 
 
 He soente the cUetent bfeeze» 
 And caate a keen end anxioiis look 
 
 On eveiy epeok he 
 
 0: 
 
 C And now, deoeived, he darte tkmg^ 
 Ae if he tied the air; 
 Then, disappointed, droops his head 
 With niore than hunuui oaiei. 
 
 He ne¥er Idteis by the way, f 
 
 Nor kiye him down to rest; 
 NiMp seeks • reftige from the showii 
 
 1%at pelts his generom breesi. 
 
 7. And surely 'tit not less than joy 
 
 That makes it throb so iuit^ ^ 
 
 When he sees, extmded on the snovv 
 tha wandeiii^ tond at last 
 
 'Tb sM^ he--4ie sMB hhtt movei 
 
 And, at the joyfiil sights 
 He toas'd his head wi& prouder aiiw 
 
 tts iaiee eye jpaw more brighi 
 
 8. Eliger emotion aweWd hit breasi 
 
 To tefi Ms gstteioiit^ii^ 
 And ha iwaed Us «<q|W ^ tta km^sl tetti^ 
 To Md the waadeier hi^ 
 
*w, 
 
 the pOgriiki heasdr-lM ndtad Us Km4 
 Behdd tiie «h«ggy form; ^ 
 
 With iadden fetr, 1m ieiied tlw fpm 
 Thai reited on hi^ttm: 
 
 9. ''Hal art thoa eoiM to vtnd tttTo 
 
 WuA dead ikon might'et devour f 
 And doee thy aavfige toy grudge 
 My ane remaiiiiiiglieiir?'' 
 
 Fear gci,Te him baok his wasted strengthg 
 
 He took his aim too well ; 
 The bullet bore the message home-> 
 
 1[1ie iigored mas^feU. 
 
 10. His eye was dimm'd, Ms Toioe was still, 
 
 And he toss'd his head no more; 
 Buthis hearty whi^ ceased to throb with Joy, 
 Was generoas as befom ^ 
 
 For roimd his willing neek he bani 
 
 A store of needfiil food, 
 That m^t support the trayeHei's strsfligth . 
 
 On the yetrsaaiaiog^imMl 
 
 11. JSnooi^ of partliig lile remiiin'i 
 ffia errand to liilfil-— 
 One pai^^ dying effort mora 
 save tha Wanderer itiE 
 
 vj 
 
 
 Sa hrhaaded not his ashing wound, 
 lat ewiif d to the iMPrelki^ dda; 
 llMk'4 iHA « look tin vi^ h« «tiiM» 
 
 •'38 
 

 lit 
 
 tMB IBIBD dkoM^ 
 
 liBftBON XLl. 
 
 RE-ooL-Licrr', cftU to mla^,^ 
 
 remember. 
 Be'aiii'IZ-ed^ Iblt oertain. 
 B^iums\ eorpMb boc^jr 
 
 afterdMiilk 
 
 ptflMlti, 
 
 Cb3l!BQi^A]||>k . jlaoe ta 
 bury the dead. 
 
 r 
 
 [N a pimmai HMe ^il- 
 
 lived a widow aiad heroniy 
 
 wimiimrixmiitmfftB. The 
 lHtiboMi!iHNi«pbad died 
 XoDg befeff« tk^ remenif 
 bered, and the first thing 
 (dhe eotttd recollect wa6 
 seeing her gentlei mother, 
 clad in thd blMk clothes 
 iHiM had Wtxoi :«V«r sincei 
 The widow earned th^lr da# bi«ad Igr oewilif , and 
 by the sale of a fefw flowers, wbicii th« littla garden 
 yielded; and, with just mongh 1o ka^ them Irdw 
 want, and a Utjfe to ipi«i^ jiiw and ti^ 
 poorer than themaatT«i^ lited the motherland hei 
 little daughter 
 
 2. They WM» wif huppybha. Mk ee«li|e-1i<mt 
 AH day, whikiiie id^ew ^$lmimi, lM§4§K^,wmkU 9i\ 
 by and watch the hmjt tm^, noir «M«ti|tiesti«ffl^ 
 
mt'Cmm w^ 
 
 m 
 
 u ft Mi i^Jihofak aXLtmU^ Huiigi; ii0#1lBt«iiing 
 e^geo^ toApvl^y Btovy Imt motlifr m» leUing; or, 
 to Oiait em^ ^oi«e «■ U «a«g one off the MigB die 
 loved io xmk Dhoa, irlup her inoi^ futw tiied 
 seiHiig, Mid 1MHI4 ttOi ia*o llie jMctan 4o wa^ tier 
 pre^jr fl»WMi, llKy would footti^vs^ te, eiid firiek 
 aad liMisfc.m tike warm eoiiihiiM. 
 
 S. Oftea^wheii iMwy ovit k«r ie#iii|^er'Wl«n,iii 
 the long winter eventiiii^ tliey eail together by the 
 cheediil Jw, the «»ofther wondd^^E^ to litUe Hey, in 
 gwtle wondi^ the wi^dieili tfile of ffim, who of old 
 died on a Oreae for the iAe of «)e»^«iid:falki fer her 
 the boiiitiie off thi haoireoly 'laagdeiB wfti^ wiU 
 ooom nftiT Ihii W«idd U mm* '^^ chOd alwftya 
 listened eameiay,#ildiatMi!gi«^«o^^^^ 
 bet^th(MMW|yothiipli«f«otihiroo«WiiteUherL t^e 
 kttopJW'mp n^ pliMld t»«ee tfci% at kiir j^mt 
 aim wa»|»^iii#iirMr da wi htm^ ^»^ 
 
 fund^^iiff Ixol^^tlli^p 
 
 4 tlHpa 11^ A^o ^ Tfiii irasigr hipFlf- But, 
 when lEif wiepaipdy «»v^ yem ciN^ it ptoaaed ^e 
 gcM>dl|qd to #)Ee^om^^ «heIflF?edao 
 
 mi$k Jt iiwaithe 4«il tipe ^thai^i^^ 
 a a e^ d oal ly ^ |a^ raaKaed 
 
 their Jheihoc^^li^ woald neter 
 
 tgll^^S^/m^dk^^ her firedi^the 
 
 li|^ that had never apoken hut lovingly. It waa (»dy 
 whui, en one dreary momi^ ahe^aw^them lay thoae 
 oold lenaina in th«rdbi& mi tlfey had opened, in 
 the gnm^ tha^ die^i^fitt .to feel that th# one wh^ 
 had leen daanit to hir oii earth, waa fott^aiid then 
 iltt- oded hitti^ir* 
 
lit 
 
 raiBD aium. 
 
 i. Kind fHoids took the lonely orphan home wltli 
 them, and tried, but in Tain, to oomfdrt her, and dry 
 her teaia. Bat ehe ttill wept, and tiiey did not know 
 whftt to do with her, until lome one happened to say 
 thai her mother would one day liee from her oold 
 grave in the ehureh-yard, and li?a fererer. They 
 noticed that theee words seemed to have more eflbot 
 on HtOe Kay than anything they had said; she dried 
 her tears, and, looking into tiie doe of the person 
 who had uttered them, made him repeat what he had 
 said. Aey were not a little surprised to see that^ 
 after Uto.t^ she wepi no moiik | 
 
 t. She stole away, as her friends thonght, somi- 
 whers about the house, nor did they mind her absenoe, 
 until it same time ibr dinner, when she was not ta be 
 found anywhere. Somewhat alarmed, they sent and 
 searohed through the Tillage, but without suoesss; 
 until some one happening to look into the ehunh-yard 
 found her kneding b^f her mother's graTSb gainng 
 intenUy upon it, and heeding nothing that was going 
 on around. When asked why she had come ther^, 
 and what she was doing, she answered, "Didn't you 
 tell me that mother win rise again. I am waiting tiU 
 she comes." The simple diild in the great stbnglii 
 dT her b¥e for the mother she had lost, had thou^t 
 that it was in this lilisi that her mothsr would arise^ 
 
 
mm oLD-FimaoKiD nBi-FLioK 
 
 4l9 
 
 ** 
 
 LESSON XLII. 
 
 TIBB OU»-f IBHIOIIID WnMrVLAXm. 
 
 Loo'HOini^ A lumie tmllt 
 
 of logs. 
 OLD'riSH-iOM-BD, like old 
 
 times, MoDgiiig to old 
 
 timei. 
 Ouv^BOllD, a doset in the 
 
 wall with thelveii 
 
 V^AS^VSk-VKQ, going ronnd. 
 Stud'ied, appUed himself 
 
 to learn. 
 EM-nx>T'KB, one who em* 
 
 ploye or gives work. 
 LfBRA-BT, ft oollectioD of 
 
 booka 
 
 ONCE there was a man who lived near a wood. He 
 was m kind man, and had a veiy kind family, his 
 
 wife and two ohildren— Jnlia, almost six, and Frank, 
 just fonr yeara old; they were good to one another, 
 and their iMher and mother, Mr. and Mrs. Workman 
 were very prond of their children. !they lived in a 
 large log-honse with two doors, one in front and one 
 behind, and a window near each. Jn one end of the 
 house were two bed-rooms, one for the family and 
 one for vinton, with whidows looking oot; and in the 
 other end ^fas the (dd-fiuhioned fire-plaeeb 
 
 1 One odd winter^s nighty when the wind was 
 blowing the snow «ronnd the honse and whistHug In 
 through the.oradEs, th^ were all seated around the 
 great b^ng fire on ^e hearth, tdl7n| stories and 
 lookhigfttlie fife. Hiey -irere veiy happy. Afl at 
 diee ihey heard n little knoal: ftt the door, and Mr. 
 Woribttan said, * O^me inr Then the door ofenid» 
 and they saw a poor little bif, with old ahoea 
 
li 
 
 niggad dotliM, all eovwed with ioe and mow. They 
 aU ttartad up in pity, and Frank brushed off the 
 •now, while hit nother pkeed a ehair before the fire 
 and made the little boy eit down, and then brought 
 him lome^iee bfettd aAii bttfM Amh the impboaid 
 
 S. WhiliB he waa eaUng Bis rappAr, tiiey all eat 
 down arovnd him and looked very kind, and aiked 
 him many questionik He looked on their kind fiiees 
 and then on the great bknog fire, and said to himself, 
 "The hearts of these people are flill of love; and it 
 fthinea through their fftces like that fire. I love them 
 yerymnch." Then he was happy, toa After a while 
 his head began to droop; he was tired, and sooH he 
 M adeep in his ohair by the bright firif sttd thin 
 Mr. Workman oarxied him to a little wann bed ieftr 
 Frank's, where he riept soundly. 
 
 4 Tean passed; the little boy, whose name was 
 John, atfd whose par«nto had d^ in theeity^liaviiig 
 him f foor. wander^ <»^han| boi^arae Frafik't ph^- 
 ftUow, and they grew up together like brot&em. By 
 and by, iCr* Woskmaa gren^ rieh; anid built % %ae 
 house, but it had no old-^ftshioned &e-plaoe. John 
 ftlt Yc y bad f^.^is; he remembered tiiexiight long 
 ago, and he loved to sit by tim great fire and see the 
 love t^hmiag tm the fiices of his frioads^-as the^ i;^<^k d 
 into ihe b^laae and on the ooiils, Mid told # ie^^ 
 ^6 another^ in the kmgwwt^W^BgB. 
 
 S. Wk'% iwawwe^^ those kh^ etoves^ wlt^ only a 
 Uttie fir^ ft.^^PuAg through the isn^sks; beBid0i» he 
 thou^t tls f'Sta*^ . 'hia friends were daikw,'4ia^ m»d 
 as they gv<«jw i?cW he ft^ied they liked.him lesi aiid 
 httd Ijssa lov« for the poor, w^om they^ always vM io 
 
mi ouKFiaaioiiiD fm^nJLxm, 
 
 help—to tlM tean fell when lie thought of the deer 
 ()ld-flMhione<^ Bire-piaoe. v Soon Mr. and Mn. Work- 
 man ware uony they hed kept hiss, and Julia wonld 
 hardly speak to him, and even hie oh\ nk.yiili>w, 
 Frank, beeame oroa% and ordered hun around Mke a 
 derrani 
 
 6. They were very proud. Poor John felt very ' id. 
 Many a day \\^. \ ent into the old log-'houee, taid aUM 
 on the )>Att' .. ^'': re the fire need to be, and eiied tiU 
 his pour h«^*rt \ioiild nearly break. He loved Mr. 
 Wc'^; nan's iHmily, for they had been kind to him 
 wbva they weiPe poor, bat now they loved him no 
 more ; they grew prouder and rieher every day. Bat 
 John had a brave hearty and he said he woald be a 
 man yet; so he studied hard when he had time, and 
 wh^ he was twenty-one he went into the city, and 
 became « elerk in a store. 
 
 7; His employer liked him very much, and In « ibw 
 years made him his partner. Now JfAm waa a ridi 
 man, and so he built a very grand hbuse^ with many 
 beautiful rooms with fine carpets, and fine foniitnre 
 and piotnrea> and a sdeet library; and all the city 
 waa f^Ad, for John was a good maui and loved by 
 everybody. He was ealled tho Ikther of the potv, 
 for Uk? orphan and tha widow, sick men, and women, 
 8.1 Jiiildren, came to him, and he gave them £bod 
 and clothes, and medicine, and warm beds, and ^ey 
 went 4way blesdng lum, and praying tl^ Qod wo«^ 
 shQ|r4Mr down his ^Hs fimever on so gaod » man. 
 ^8. 'W$ xemembeiad that he waa c£ee * cold and 
 hnng^ orphan jbiimnlf, and he always sud, "Be good 
 toO^poorinthahaid iHi^«,attd «h4i»^0»d w^lba 
 
 
 na 
 
12S 
 
 THB THIBD BEADSa 
 
 good to you." And now John made a great feaat in 
 his house, and called all his friends together to rejoice 
 with him, for it waa his wedding-day, and he had 
 brought home his young wife, Mary, the beautiful 
 daughter of his old employer. Mr. and Mrs. Work- 
 man, with Julia and Frank were there; Julia was 
 bridesmaid, and Frank was groomsman, and eveiy 
 face was full of gladnes& 
 
 9. John brought them all into his grand parlor, a 
 glorious room, full of all things rare and beautiful, 
 but the most beautiful thing there was the old-fash- 
 ioned fire-place, blading bright, just like that in the 
 old log-house. John looked ooa his old friends, aii|l 
 asked them if they remembered the ey^ng long ago, 
 when they took him in and warmed and fed him by 
 the dear old fire in the old log-house. Then they felt 
 sad for their unkindness, and asked his pardon; but 
 he had foigiven them Img ago, and now he kindly 
 shook hands with them all, and the fiie blazed brighter 
 and brighter. 
 
 10. Mr. Workman, whose head had grown gray with 
 years, laid his hands on John's and Mary's head, and 
 blessed them, and said, '*Iiet us nerer grow proud 
 when we grow rich. Qod gives us wealth that we may 
 use it as John has done, and thus be truly blest, 
 while God's love will shine forth on our faces, even as 
 the fire does from this dear old-fashioned fire-place." 
 After that they partook of an excellent su|>per, as 
 you may be sure, and then returned to the old-fash- 
 ioned fire-pjUice to spend a happy evening, as in old 
 times when John was a poor boy. Frank was proud 
 no more; he had learned how foolish that in 
 
19* BtOf or CBI DSS&BT. 
 
 128 
 
 11. They had good miisic by Mary and JuMa, who 
 also sang some fine old songs, assisted by John and 
 Frank. * Th<»i all (^iheied about the fire^place^d 
 fcold Btories/iuid joked and laughed, ta the happy 
 always will da 
 
 So this is the stoiy of "The Old-fashioned Fire- 
 place," and I hope it will please my little readers, and 
 that they will learn fifom it to be always kind to the 
 poor, who are the Mends of God. They who are not 
 kind totiie poor will have no place In the eternal 
 home^ which is Hea^ep. 
 
 ■ ♦»»■ 
 
 tBSSON XLIII. 
 The Ship or isi Dussbk 
 
 WcU'VOB, takes up, re- 
 
 quirea. 
 Mus'OLB, organ of motion. 
 Stom'ach, the place which 
 
 receiTes the food. 
 POBT'A-Bus, that can be 
 
 carried abotti 
 Whols'soke, that which is 
 
 good for health. 
 
 Do-mbs'tio, belonging to 
 
 homa 
 Tfis'TA.MBNT, ft portion of 
 
 the Bible. 
 Vi'oicus, wicked, bad. 
 Bk-YSNOb', returning evil 
 
 for evil 
 Dbs'bbt, ft wild, bleak 
 
 place. 
 
 IN those countries where there are deserts so vast, 
 that the journey across them QBca|aes dayi|,aiid 
 sometimes weeks^ the only animal that will avail to 
 oatiy people, <xr their goods, is the camel, whkli is 
 henoe called *tlift ship of ^e deteri" The carnal, ia 
 
FT 
 
 im 
 
 t9B TBmo tuSSJOM, 
 
 a northern country, and to eyes unused to its ap{>ear- 
 ance, does not strike one in its favour on first sight 
 The seemingly ill-shaped legs and large flat feet, the 
 hump on the back, the long neck that seems to be 
 painfully taxed to bear up the very small and almost 
 earless head, make it look quitd ungainly. 
 
 f Then it is by no means graceful in its motions, 
 and aft its coat is composed as much of ^ as of 
 hair, which mixture is not equally divided, it makes 
 an unpleasant covering to look at. But though the 
 camel is not Messed by nature with fine looks, it is 
 one of the most useful of animals ; indeed, so great 
 is its value in the sandy regions, which are itia home, 
 that if it were to die out, the people of thos^ coun- 
 tries would not be able to exist. 
 
 3. The camel is a special instance of how well Ood 
 adapts tmimals to the places in whidi they are to live, 
 HSid the work Uiey have to do. Its hard, dry body 
 has not the least useless flesh on it, and its thighs and 
 legs have only those muscles that are actually needed 
 Sor moveai^t. It oan live on sciatity herbs that grow 
 
mi imp ov m 
 
 i» 
 
 OB the Mnd§ of Um deierl» and Hb jmi» ai» made 
 very strongs io enable it to 4slidw dvnn the tougheBt of 
 these weedff. Whsa hard presaed, it mSl Uva aavttral 
 daya without eating anything at alL 
 
 4. One of the strangest fiwta eoneeRuag tliia animal 
 is tho wal^ aadca with whieh it ia gifted. These 
 sacksiwhioh are entirely ^lart from its atomaohk if^ 
 fills with water, at the beginning of a long journey^ 
 and is then able to do without drinking far a greafc 
 while^ It oan teU the place where water is, at a great 
 distance off, probably by its srase of smeUi; and has 
 thus often been the means of saving hnndfeds of peo^ 
 pie ftopi^ying of thirst in the daaeri Vh read that 
 when, after travelling pwhapa thirteeen or fourteen 
 houra under the scorching sun, it ccmes to a spikig, 
 it showBits eagemesB to be served; but when the cool 
 water is offered to it^ wiH drink very (qparingly. 
 
 1^. Though it wonld seem, firora the plotma on the 
 preceding page^ thbt the camel could not m^e a 
 journey with mn^ speed, still hia power of holding 
 out is so great, that he can travel fifty or sixty miles 
 at a time, much quicker than could a horse, and at the 
 same time carrying a burdra. The weights^hatit will 
 carry ara very great : generally ita load ia from fbur 
 hundred to a thousand pounds; it has been Imown, 
 though, to aanry iftaen hundred for a short diitaBee. 
 
 a The peopto of tiie deaert» oaUed Arabs, afanosiy 
 live on the ba(^ of their camehk When, abcnt eel- 
 ting out, an Arab will place his wiftand children in a 
 baaketalang on one side of the anima( and then gat- 
 tiog ii^ another basket on the other sl^ will ilavt 
 his *'akip of the dMMri** Ba oite ^lepa «a tl^ 
 
■-^.i"f»-', 
 
 1BI THnD UUBBL 
 
 camel, and the Arab women aometimes eYW do iheb 
 cooking on its baok. The way in whieh they do thia la 
 very simple. One woman, mounted on a camel, grinds 
 the wheat in a hand-mill, and then passes the flour fo 
 another woman riding a camel laden with water, whP 
 •nixes it and kneads it into dcmijix ; it ia then passed 
 to another woman who hakea it m a portable eiren, 
 heated with wood and straw. 
 
 7. Not only does the camel prove a fiuthflil servant 
 to man during its life, but even after death it ia useful 
 Thus, its flesh is very sweet and wholesome^ and iti 
 milk is one of the best of drinks. Of its bide, tents 
 are made; its hair yields the most splendid shawls; 
 whilst its bones serve for weapons of war, aa well m 
 for articles used in the household, and in the small 
 farming of the country. From the very eailieit times, 
 the camel has bad a pl&ce in the domestic life ai the 
 people among whom it lives. We read of it in the 
 Old Testament^ as serving the patriarchs Abraham 
 and Jacob. Amongst the Arabs, indeed, it ia Lekl as 
 a sacred animal. 
 
 8. In temper, the eamel is not vicious, but he does 
 not go to his work at all eagerly. His patience is very 
 great^the only sign he gives when over worked, or 
 otherwise badly used, being a iovt of groan, -vhich 
 cannot easily be described, but which sounds rather 
 inarming when uttered by hundreds at once^ But 
 though patient and by no means wi^ed in temper, 
 styVif onoe injured, the camel wiH watch tiil it can 
 take revenge. The following story which the Arabs 
 tell, and believe it too, will show how fiuritsomctimii 
 goes in puDishiai^ tim o l i b n de ii 
 
SHIP MP THB DESnr. 
 
 m 
 
 9. A o^rtxin eamel-driver had bitterly insulted, in 
 some wa;/ tue •nimal under his ehaige. The eamel 
 seemed disposed to take revenge for the injuzy, but 
 the driver kepi Ibr several days out of the way. One 
 night the man went for safety inside of his tent, leav- 
 ing his doak spread ovet the saddle on the outside 
 During the night, he heard the camel coming near the 
 cloak, and, after making sure that it was his mastei's 
 and beUeving that the master was asleep beneath it 
 the camel lay down and rolled backward and forward 
 over it, much gratified, it would seem, by the eraeking 
 and smashing qf the saddle underneath it^ thinking it 
 was hit master's bones he was breaking. 
 
 10. Having finished his work, the camel hx^ed al 
 it a moment with pleasure, and then walked away 
 The next morning, at the usual hour, the master pre- 
 sented himself to the oamel; the poor animal was so 
 enraged at. seeing, safe befivre him, the enemy whom 
 he thought he had crushed, the night before, and was 
 so filled with giie( that he broke hit hearty and died 
 on the spot. 
 
 11. (kmi are the wonderful works of God. How 
 well He has adapted the difierent Idnds of animals to 
 the countries they are to inhabitl Thus, while the 
 horse is better suited to our dimatas, and to the hard, 
 smooth roads he has here and in Europe^ ha would 
 he of veiy little use in the sandy deserts of Arabia, 
 and other countries of Asia^ So it is thai the great 
 Creator of all tilings has formed evwy aniiMl to suit 
 the oountiy wd oUmale in wbiah H is ihi 4wtllt ab^ 
 the people il is la i 
 
1^1 ?Y ^li ' '''^i; t^^iD 
 
 TBIBD BBiSiMk 
 
 
 
 Out-RiaUT/ ottt loud. 
 Bie^iaiNIS^, CM^inueB. 
 FAouT,ftin, making fun. 
 ilwwg,[lIiiBii*X w> gWAt, V9%y 
 I fiKmig: • , \ 
 
 A In blight mi tikx^ weilfa ir; 
 Aiid notlMBg bu* nwdlw it htd |iwkwPi# 
 
 fiQIli top to botM^tt togB^en 
 flit needles Btnek abottti 
 1a4 tbe littto tree qpok« ooli 
 
 BeftiiUfolto.Me^ 
 White r^ nottdiig but thesD natdlti^- 
 
 Ho one toMlifiMae> 
 Hight I hK9t my fbHuiie toM, 
 Al mj 1«K^^ (dioidd b* pue g<44* 
 
 |L Till llta» 1»ee'e iwlaep ly dl* 
 
 4pkk»bfc«di«irt^l#^ 
 J^ row ile golden h»^3^« 
 
 the fittlft tiee taji. -Now Em iiiWi^ ^^ 
 
ISO 
 
 4 But now, Agauitilie id^t mme bick ; 
 Through th» Ifffwli thtra walked ftJvw^ 
 V9m wtetiiMAhmgdmd grestHiidc saek. 
 
 Who icon the gcldm le»vM did view ; 
 He podcite them aU and avaf doe9 lbr<% 
 Leaving «ha UiUa kaa qaita bare^ 
 
 5. The litiile iree speaks np distress'd: 
 
 ** Those golden leaves how I lament! 
 Tm qnite ashapied befioce the test. 
 
 Such lovely dress to them is lent, 
 Migl^ living one moia wish to pass, 
 I would hava my lewres of the di^arest gM^ss." 
 
 6. The litae tvee sle^ again at daik. 
 
 And wakes wUh ^eaailff light, 
 And now Ha glass laawes you may mai^- 
 
 Thecaw«»a«igUS 
 The litt^ tree says, "Mowi^m^Mght U^ ^ 
 No tfte la the wood is so Inrlfl^Uy oladi'' 
 
 7. There ^ame «p now alslghty hlast» 
 
 And a furious gala it blew; 
 It sw^t am(n« the tiees fuU iaMk 
 
 And on the glass leaves it iaw. 
 There lay the laavea of giam 
 All Axwjmim. tha giaaa. 
 
 
 Tha little tree eom^aamt 
 " My f^am liea <» tlw gvomii t 
 
 Baioh othen tree rMuuns 
 With its green liNsm all round. 
 
 Might IM^lmw my wl4io^^ mora* 
 
 rd have <tf tbMa#Msn leaMm «aad ator^ 
 
 ,'.^ii». 
 
>' \' 
 
 ISO 
 
 TBI VBIBD JtiAlltt. 
 
 fen 
 
 a AgftiB mImp is the MUle tM», 
 And Mrly waket to the light; 
 H» it florar^d .with green le»Tee &ir to 
 
 He laughi outfight^ 
 And atLjB, "I am now all nioely dnet^ 
 Nor need be eshiimed before tho Ket" 
 
 10. And now, with udden full, 
 
 Forth a wild she-goat spmqg, 
 Seeking for herbs to jmll 
 
 To feed her yonng. 
 She sees the leaves, nor makes muolktaUk, 
 But strips all dear to the very stalk. 
 
 11. TheUttle ttee again Is bare, 
 
 And thuS: to hipiseli^ he said, 
 "No longer ibr such leaves I care. 
 
 Be they green, or yellow, of red: 
 If I had but my needles again, 
 I would never more scold or oomplain.** 
 
 12. The Uttle tree slept sadf that night, 
 And sadly opened his eye>-* 
 
 He sees himself in the sun's first light-^ 
 
 And laughs as if he wotild die : 
 And all the trees in a roar burst out. 
 But the tree cared little iix all their flout 
 
 1& What made the little tree laugh like madt 
 And what set the rest in a roar? 
 In f single night, soon baek he had 
 
 Every needle he had before ; 
 And every body may see them mtktf^ 
 Qo out and look, but do not toneh. 
 
 ::r^ 
 
 w 
 
TSmQMMTtmi m IDIV. 
 
 iH 
 
 LESSON XLV. 
 The QARDBf OF Ddbi. 
 
 The OUAMB, Stork, PelI- 
 GAN, very laige birds. 
 
 EL'K-PHAirr, the laigeftof 
 
 land aniniali. 
 Flit'tiho, moving very 
 
 lightly. 
 Charm'ing, very pleasitig 
 PBoor, ft tokec, « gign. , 
 
 Glo'bz-ou8« AiU of glory. 
 Ck)N-oinvi', imagiii^, un- 
 
 d«F8tand. 
 Ck)N-TiN'inD>| went on as 
 
 before. 
 WiCK'BD, veiy bad. 
 Ds-inr'iKQ, keeping from, 
 
 forbidding. 
 
 TN the garden of Eden mi^^t hare been aeen the 
 1 crane, i&e etork, or the peUoan, wading in the 
 waters of the rii^r, at «viag in seaieh of food; and, 
 grajringon the gi^n gran beneath the shady trees! 
 were thelHendly hoise. the stately elephant, the use- 
 fill caail, the swift-footed deer, die harmless sheep, 
 the pkyfW goat, the timid rabbit, and many other 
 creatniea. Th^re, too, were the busy bee and the 
 gay^lored butterfly, flitting from flower to flower, 
 and sipping the sweets they contained. 
 
 2. And how eharming it would have been to hear 
 the joyous notes of the lark, the nightingale, the 
 blackbird, the linnet, and the thrush; or to touch 
 the green, and gdd, and purple fea«itrft^ of birds 
 which had BO other ehanns than their dress f 
 
 But, the kml made, and most wonderful of aU the 
 creatures inlihal gar^to, were Adam and iBve, at that 
 time th» Qi^ ttftn and woman in the wl«l^ wide 
 
 -u 
 
in 
 
 m mBD stiuim 
 
 woriA So hdy mad Uppgr wm they, that evwi cbv 
 great Gk>d laid they were '^▼ery good;" and he spoke 
 to them lovingly, and th^at>6ke toOod ae little 
 ohUdrenspeak toakind fiithartHientheylbel ^t 
 he loves them. 
 
 8. Man was, evoi than, the greateet pioof of God's 
 wisdom and love; for whilst man's &oc^ was fonned 
 of the dttst of the earth, Qod gave him, also, a ionl, 
 which rejoMed within itself as it saw God's power! 
 wisdom, and goodness in His glorious works. 
 
 And man was then, also, a happy beings qnit% 
 happy; for whilst all his wants were ffceely suppHea, 
 sickness, pain; and death ww then nnknown, andiW 
 
 felt that he was living andar God's aonstant, loviiif» 
 smile. « 
 
 4. We cannot Mtyr oonoeife what joy Adam and 
 Eve must have felt^ when they first looket: apon thd 
 green giass, and fifnit^ and flowers, and upon the dear 
 hluesky,and shining snn, and heard thegxeatGod 
 say that all the wprld"was theirs, except the froit of 
 one tree, which His wisdom and love alone forhide 
 them to toneh. 
 
 Caoiids seem to be gathering in the sfy when we 
 think thai the happiness of all who were to live after 
 them was in their oare ; that if they, the fint parents, 
 continued hdy, their children would be Wy ; and, 
 that if they, the first parents, sinned, their chiMren 
 would be bom sinners, and do wicked things 
 
 5. Btt| we will not bring a ekmd over tiiis pleture 
 ^ the hapi^ garden by teUing how Adam and Ive 
 acted; we will rathdr think of the goodness of God 
 in denying to Man only one tree, and in showing him 
 
 iitekW'^^^..^^,^^^ 
 
* m 
 
 THs BAnr. 
 
 in 
 
 plainly when it grew, lo thai he might ftTdd it, and 
 in warning him ao aolemnly, **!« the day that thoa 
 eatest thereof, thou ahalt surely die." 
 
 '•■> i 
 
 LESSON XLVI. 
 Ths Baht. 
 
 In-vi^ed, aaked to go; 
 Un-hap'pt, Bad, dejected. 
 PA'TEorr-LT,with patienoe. 
 Dim'ples, forme in sinall 
 
 hollows. 
 Qlad'vjpb, joy, pleasim. 
 
 Qbat'i-tddk, thankfbltiees. 
 Tbou'u.ed, grieved, vexed. 
 Re-fresh'xd, comforted. 
 Bbooks, small streams. 
 Dwuf'DUED, diminished in 
 Mae. 
 
 TTis nuning, mother," smd a Uttle girl, who was 
 
 1 looking out at a window, "and I cannot make that 
 visit to Jimma to-day. She invited me twice before; 
 but it ruiied, and now it is raining hard again.'' 
 
 "I hope yon wiU not be unhappy," said hermother; 
 '* I think I see teats upon your cheeks. I will not say 
 it is a little thing, for the troubles (^children seem 
 great to them; but I trust you will wait patiently for 
 good weather. 
 
 2. « Look out into your garden, and see how happy 
 the rosebuds are to catch the moit rain-drops in their 
 bosom, and how the violets fift up th^ir i^eet faces, 
 to meet it, and as the drops &11 into tl^ qillet slieam, 
 how it dimples with gladness and gratitude. The 
 cattle will drink at the stream, and be refieahed. 
 Should it be dried up, they would be much timibled; 
 
 ^Jf-sl^sri 
 
134 
 
 ffeC?&$^ 
 
 tBK TUIBD RKADBR. 
 
 and were the green grass to grow brown and die, th&y 
 would then be troubled more, and some of them might 
 perish for want of food." 
 
 3. Then the good mother told her daughter of the 
 sandy deserts in the East, and of the camel,^who pa- 
 tiently bears thirst for many days, and how the faint- 
 ing <a»v«li©r wafcdhied for the rain-cIond, and blessed 
 Ood when he found the water: and she showed her 
 i[^0tlia»s 0f the camel, and of the caravan, or company 
 
THB RAHI. 
 
 185 
 
 of trav^Uen, tmd how they wm9 sometimet buried 
 under the la&ds of the desert. 
 
 4. And she told her the story of the mother who 
 wandered in the wilderness with her son ; how, when 
 the water in the bottle was all gone, she laid him 
 under the jhade to die, and went, in her anguish, and 
 prayed to Ok>d; then, how an angel showed her a 
 fountain of water — and her son lived. She told her 
 how there fell no rain in Israel for more than three 
 years, and the grass dried up, and the brooks dwin- 
 dled away, and the cattle died; and how the good 
 prophet Elias prayed to Qod, and the skies sent their 
 blessed rain, and the earth gave forth her fruit. 
 
 6. Many other things this good mother told her 
 child, to entertain her. Then they sang a hjrmn to 
 the angels, and the little girl was surprised to find 
 the afternoon so swiftly spent, for the time passed 
 pleasantly. 
 
 So she thanked her kind mother for the stories she 
 had told, and the pictures she had shown her. And 
 Bhe smilsd, and said, ** What Qod pleases is bestl*' 
 
 The mother kissed her, and said: ''Carry this 
 sweet spirit, with you, my child, as long as you live, 
 and you will have gathered mpre wisdom from the 
 storm than from the sunshine." 
 
 
 
 ''i'ii'^i'ff'i 
 
-iri.k~ 
 
 189 
 
 TBI THIBD BBADSa 
 
 LESSON XLVII. 
 
 OHBISniAli 
 
 Oebist'iias, the festival of 
 the birth of Christ 
 
 Vis'iOK, means here some- 
 thing imagined. 
 
 Chimes, ehnreh-beUi. 
 
 Rb-call', to remember. 
 
 Mute, silent. 
 MauBN'FUL-LT^Qrrowfully 
 Plain'tive, sad. 
 QuAvr^XD, drank. 
 Spabs'ling, bright 
 Bs-soBinysD, come dowa 
 
 CHBISTMAS agidnl The same familiar story, 
 never to grow old ; the same word, never to be 
 mentioned without a glow of love, never to be spoken 
 or snng but that a host of visions rise, so bright, so 
 sweet, and yet so sad. Ah I dear reader, since you 
 heard the Christmas chimes last year what has 
 happened t What joy, what sorrow, what voice is 
 mute forever, that once made your heart light with 
 its music ? What dear &ce is gone and you cask only 
 recall it, wondering that you can bear the darkness 
 now its light is sett 
 
 % What empty chait it that at whidi you look so 
 monmfiilly, never to be BUed with the same dear 
 foim agcinf Why, through the Christmas melody 
 runs a pknintive air that bruoigs tears with smiles? 
 Is it tlmt Qod haa "taken one of your best bebved 
 home t f$!kM comfort ; for, if Christmas on earth is 
 io beautiful, so f^ of leva mod kiadness, what is 
 CbiiilHMyi in JSisavin t 
 
 iiVi*^**^ 
 
GHBISniAflL 
 
 187 
 
 S. Tears ago, before the world had hardened n», 
 and we had become sharran in ita ioila «nd cares, 
 how the name of Ohrisfcrnas rejoiced ns then 1 And 
 now, world-worn and weaiy, how our hearts escape 
 from bondage, and go back again to those happy, 
 innocent days, and we think with a sigh of all that 
 has happened since Christmas was the greatest event 
 in our liyeB^ and its holy days our greatest pleasure. 
 What years we seem to have lired since then, — 
 years of dreams, of hopest,of disappointment; what 
 draughtf we have quaffed ^m that sparkling cup 
 the worid presents to the young and innooent^ and 
 what poison has it proved I 
 
 4. How we long once more totr what Ohristmas will 
 never bring again — ^the touch of a mother^s lumd, 
 the sound of a fieither^s voice, or the look of a dead 
 Bister^s &ce. How many duunges we have seen since 
 then. All pass in review before us ; and yet, no mat^ 
 ter how sad the remembrance^ how heavy the grief, 
 Christmas brings its own sunshine and its own music. 
 It js as though the sunshine of GKkI's love shone 
 brighter and wanner upon us at Christmas time, for 
 onr hearts grow laiger and kinder, friends seem 
 dearer to usj^ coldness and unkindness vanish, with 
 the lesson of love that Christmas brings. 
 
 6. The Christnias soilg, that has desoended fyt 
 ages, rings again m our ears, how " unto us aCSiild was 
 bom ; " how, for love of ii% Our dear Lord desoended 
 from Bis high^ Heaven, and beoama alittle helpless 
 babe. We ean picture the soene*^we hava thoa|^t of 
 it BO long and so loving— -how this CSiristmas nighti 
 Qigh two thousand years ago» when the snow lav hard 
 
 j*S>- ,•« 
 
^'T 
 
 ia$ 
 
 THE imftD BBADia. 
 
 iwid white upon the ground, and the stan butned in 
 the dark depths of a blue aky ; how crowds of angels 
 descended and hovered round, ahading, with their 
 bright wings, the cold, cheerless stable whai^ lay our 
 Lord and King. 
 
 6. How angels knelt and worshipped in those bare 
 walls, making a glorious light and halo with iheir 
 lovuig eyes and fair faces; and how the light was 
 more glorious and more golden, asid the vet'y angels 
 scarcely breathed for awe, round the ctrib Wheie lay 
 the Holy child, fair as a snow-drop, tender as a lily, 
 smilii^ and ra<Mant, and yet, wit^i a mysterious fore- 
 shadowing in the depths of those sweet eyes, \as 
 though, through the winter's night, gldwing under the 
 pure stars, He could see the Gross and ihe ungiateful 
 hearts of men. 
 
 7. Kneeling by ffim, in rapt and silent worsiup, 
 love beaming from her fiur angelic ikce, tears of Joy 
 streaming from her dove-like eyes, joy and peace, as 
 it were, crossing her brow, lvas '* Maty His Mother;'* 
 and standing at a distance, gazing u|fon the ino^er 
 and the child, wondering ip the depths of hia holy 
 and humble heart was Saint Jctseph; ftnd the angels 
 thronged around, chanting the hyton that they chant 
 now, "Glory to God in the highest." Over the steble, 
 clear and golden in the sky, was the star of Bethle- 
 hem; and dimly sounding through the dear cold air, 
 came the noise of the cij^ a|id the busy hwk of life. 
 How lovely is the Ghnstmas picture that ll^moiy 
 brings us irom year to year I 
 
 ili^k^'i 
 

 
 THX/'BOLLT AND IVY" GIRL. 
 
 139 
 
 LESSON XLVIII. 
 Thi « Holly and Ivt" Girl. 
 
 I'vT AND Hol'lt, ev6r- 
 gtfmm maoh med at 
 Christmas. 
 
 En-tan'gled» matted 
 Pit'i-lbss, hard, without 
 
 Ky'i-DKNT, plain to be seen. 
 
 Im-pe'dbd, prevented, ob- 
 
 struGted. 
 Dim'mud, made i\\m 
 PlERC'iNa, sharp, shriU. 
 Sa'cred, holy, blessed. 
 Lif'fby, a river in Ireland. 
 MiN'STRXL, a singer. 
 
 GOMfi, buy my nice, fresh I^, and my Holly 
 ^Hngs'sogre^n; 
 I have the finest branches that'ever yet were seen 
 Cteme^ buy from me, good Christians, and let me 
 
 home, I pray, 
 And in wish you 'Meriy CSiristmas Times, and a 
 Happy New Year's Day.* . 
 
 2. « Ah I won't you take my Ivy ^^tfee h^yeliest ever 
 seen I 
 Ah [won't you have my Holly bou^f— all you 
 
 who love the Oreen I 
 Dp^^take a bunch of each, and on my knees 111 
 
 That God may bless your Christmas, and be wiOi 
 you New Year's Day. 
 
 & lUa wiiMlis bleak and bitter, and * tha hail-<tbnee 
 . do not spare 
 
 Ify 0m^ htm, my bleeding feet, and stiff, 
 entingkdhair; 
 
 k<4^i£k^«*>i'ii"^.- 
 

 i' t^ ■■ 
 
 i4a 
 
 TBI mulD BIATOB, 
 
 \, b« merciful I 
 
 Th«n^ whan the ddee en 
 
 So Heayen will light yoixr Ghristmas, and the eoni- 
 ing New Yeat^s Day." 
 
 4. Twae thus a dying maiden eaag, whihtt the eold 
 
 hail rattled down. 
 And fierce winda whistled monmfully o'er Dublin's 
 
 dreary town; 
 One stiff hand dntch'd her Ivy sprigs and H6% 
 
 boughs so £ur — 
 Wi^ the other dixe kept brushing the hail-drops 
 
 from her hair. 
 
 1 So grimsAd statue-like she saem'd, 'twas evident 
 th/AtDeaOi 
 
 Was lurking in her footstepS'^-whilst her hot, im- 
 peded brea% 
 
 Too plainly tdd her early doom^though the bur- 
 den of her lay 
 
 Was still <^ life and Cflmstmasjoys/andaHappy 
 New Teai^i Day. 
 
 6. Twasinthat btoad, bleak Thomas Street I heard 
 the wandeier aiiig-^ 
 I stood a moment in the inire, bi^<md the rscged 
 
 -(.••■■(J $ 
 My hesfft ftlt eold aiMl lonely, and m> i^ong^ts 
 
 werefiur i|way, 
 Where I was many a Ohr!stoias*Ude and Happy 
 New Yeii^Di^ 
 
VBB "BOIXT AMD IYT" OIBL. 
 
 141 
 
 7. I dreamed of wandering in the woods, among the 
 
 HoUy green— 
 I dream'd ci mj own witlTe ool, aad p(»ch with 
 
 Ivy screen—- 
 I dream'd d lights forever dimm'd-H>f hopes that 
 
 oaa't retnm--- 
 And dropp'd a tear on Christmas fires that never 
 
 more may bnra. 
 
 * The ghost-like singer still sang <m— -but no one 
 came to buy; 
 The hurrying crowd paas'd to and firo, but did not 
 
 heed her ery;^ 
 She uttered <Hie low, plefelng moan— ead cast her 
 
 And, smiUng, eried— <* TH leet with God before the 
 Hew Tear's Day r 
 
 < On New Tear^s Day I said aqt paeyers above a 
 new-made grave^ 
 Dug decently in sacred soil, by LifTey's murmui^ 
 
 the minstrel iMkid from earth to Heaven has 
 wing'd her happy way. 
 
 And BOW enjoys, witii sister ^aai^ts, ta eiidless 
 New Yearns Day! 
 
 
 M 
 
 ■•■ /^"i":--iv,A > \i. ^i-, 
 
H2 
 
 THE FHIED READER. 
 
 LESSON XLIX. 
 
 The Great Bishop Ambrose; 
 
 Dis - TIN 'ouish -ED, made 
 oneself famous. 
 
 Her'e-tic, a person sepa- 
 rated from the Chuitjh. 
 
 Suc'cEss-OR,one who comes 
 after. 
 
 Sect, a religious party. 
 
 Tu'mult, rest, breaking of 
 the .peace. 
 
 As-sem'bly, meeting, num- 
 ber of people. 
 
 Hu-MiL'i-TY, low opinion 
 of oneself. 
 
 ESi'PER-OR, chief ruler. 
 
 Lieu-ten'ant, one holding 
 office under anothei. 
 
 Un-worth'i-ness, not be- 
 ing fit. ^ 
 
 Can'on, law of theOhurch. 
 
 Pen'anoe, satisfying for 
 sins. 
 
 Guilt'y, wicked. 
 
 1' ;:V_^ 
 
 0' 
 
 
 ^^#'* 1 
 
 
 NDifthe 
 greatest 
 Bishops of 
 the Church, 
 in any age, was St. Am- 
 brose, the bishop of Milan, 
 in Italy, who lived in the 
 fourth century. He is still 
 known as one of the 
 Doctors of the Church, 
 which name was given to 
 thode l^rned priests or bish- 
 ops who had distinguished them- 
 selves by their writings in defence 
 of the true laith. What stdkea m mmt 
 
 vX • r 'i 
 
 si'..v/.'« 
 
THE ORRAT BISHOP AHBROSB. 
 
 US 
 
 in the life of St Ambnjw, » that he became hithop 
 almost against his will, for ho was so humble tbttt he 
 did not think himself worthy of that great dignity. 
 
 2. He waa the governor of the city of Milan, and 
 the coantiy around, at the time that the former 
 bishop died. This bishop had been the cause of ii 
 great deal of trouble, for he was a heretic, and hr 
 from being chosen to the See of Milan, had seised on 
 it by fow^ and held it for no less than twenty years. 
 Now, when he was dead, of course, there was great 
 excitement about choosing his successor. Hns^own 
 party, who were called Arians, wanted a bishop of 
 their own sect; but the Jatholios would have none 
 b^tagood OftthollA. 
 
 3. The people of the tity held a meeting in <me of 
 the churdies for the purpose <tf d^ding on the new 
 bishop, and Ambrose, fearing lest trouble might a^e 
 there, wei^io the chur^ hitoselt; and addressed the 
 excited pe^e in nuld terma, advising them to make 
 their choiea in pesos tod without tumuli B was 
 while he waa iqpedcii^ that a very s^z^idir th&ig 
 bappened. Suddenly, a Child cried out* **AmbKi8e 
 bishop r' The whole assembly took these wdrdii of 
 an innocent babe a& the word of Ood, atid both 
 CathoUca aad Ariaaa joliied in prodaiming him 
 Bishop of Mikm. 
 
 4. But this choice, which he had by ^c i|eaiisex 
 pected. a&rmed- the huajiHty of ike good Ambn>«e, 
 and 1|9 mado use of all scarts of devices in oi^dr to 
 escape ^t)in tho honor about to be bastoired upoli 
 him. He sat upon the bench of justice, and in order 
 ^ seeia tgcvul and iiiiiiov% of the priastha^ ha 
 
144 
 
 TESTHIBD BJEAOi& 
 
 caused aeveral priaonen to be brought before him 
 and pat to the tortura But the people 9KW that tbU 
 was only done on purpose to escape their wishes, and 
 continued still in their desiga He^ then stole out ol 
 the city by n^ht^ thinking that he oould make his 
 escape to Pavia, a place at some distanoe. 
 
 5. But it was the will of QoA that he should become 
 ffishop of Milan. He lost his way, and, after wan- 
 dering up and down all night, found himself in the 
 morning at the gates of Milan. His attenpted flight 
 being^known, a guard was set upon him, and the peo- 
 ple wrote to the emperor^ to get his consent to their 
 ehoice of Ambrotie : the latter also wrote, asking to be 
 excused on aooount of hie office. But the emperor 
 was pleased with the people's choies^ and sent 
 word to Us lieutenant to see that Ambrose did not 
 
 6. E^en yet ao great was hUi sense of his uaworthi- 
 ness, that he made itno&er attempt to escape, and 
 hid himislf in the house <»f a ftiepid, who, through the 
 best of metiTes, made known to the ptofpLb where be 
 was. So at last he was obliged to yieUI, thoiolth he 
 decilared that not being ^et a Christian, he oouM not 
 be made a priasi But ha wae answered that the 
 Church, on very special oeeaidons^ can dispense with 
 suoh canons. Aooovdingly, Ambifose waa baptized, 
 and, after duly preparing^ was made biahap-^being 
 then onl^ about thirty-four year* of egi^ ilo sooner 
 was h» seated in the chair, than ho ga^ to fteCSiurch 
 and the poor aU his richei. Be l^ muk k h^ lift 
 thaty after his death, he was declared a seiai 
 
 *'' n order to show the xegafd #hii^ this is^ 
 
TBI QBllT mSHOP AMBROSE 
 
 145 
 
 bidiop had Ibr daty, whieh he ahmyi perlbnned, no 
 matter who or what oppoeed, we w"^ relate * ttoiy 
 whieh hJatoiy teUa of him. The Emperor of Rome, 
 at that time, was a great sii<* good m«D, but, unhap- 
 pily; of • violent temper. Oil one oooadon, the 
 people of one of hie dtiee atoned theb governor to 
 death, at whieh the emperor was so enraged that he 
 sent a huge body of aoldien into that guilty dty, with 
 orden io day the inhabitanta during three houra. 
 So fieroel^y did the aoldiera obey this order thaty in 
 that time, aa many aa aeven thouaand persona wave 
 put to death. 
 
 8. No aooner had St. Ambroae heard of thia awM 
 crim^ than he boldly declared to the emperor, that he 
 could not allow him to enter the Church, nor to par- 
 take of the Saeramenta, until he had done publio pen- 
 ance Ibr the immense loaa of lift his haaty temper had 
 caused. It was the euatom in thoae daya to admit 
 no tntd into tha Ohnrdi who had oommitted anjr greai 
 sins, and thotl^ the oflfonder was in this oaae the 
 mighty ruler of the empiiei the good bishop dared 
 to do Us daty, and Ibr ilg^t months this guilty em- 
 peror waa obBged to ramain oat»ide the Ohurefa. In 
 thia aiample we hare a double canae to admire^— the 
 Christian eoniiga of the bishop, and the humiHiy of 
 the penitent 
 
 Si Asalnose of IGka was not oofy^a^eat anh- 
 biahop^ bat a great doetcnr of tha^ Chnrcli— thai i% 
 he wrota nnotTin defimoe of Oathoiic dookhM i|(ainst 
 thsiiwttna af Ms tiwia 
 
 ':.&K 
 
 
140 
 
 IKS THIAD it | | |^»>^ft i 
 
 LESSON L. 
 
 T99 R«WABD OF ChABITT. 
 
 Mbb'bkn-gsr, one who car- 
 
 ifMnewA 
 MiK'i»^XR,one wbo serves. 
 Rm«'A-Tiys, one oonneotod 
 
 ▼ith another by blood. 
 Ed-u-ca'tion, sdhooHng, 
 
 process of learning. 
 PflR-FOBX'Ep, dischaiged. 
 As-sibt'ant, a hetpisBi 
 
 CotJRT'E-ous-LT, politely, 
 eivilly. 
 
 Or-dain'ed, made a priest. 
 
 IM-POS'IHO, cheating, de- 
 ceiving. 
 
 Cou-pam'ion, one who soes 
 with another. \ 
 
 Ti-AT'i-OTTM, oommnnion 
 given to the dying. 
 
 IT was « slotn^ ni|^ ki Decemibet, many years 
 ago. Tl\% wind howled liirions^, and tha snow 
 fell HhUik 9/id Um^ ooTering, with Us white doak, hill 
 and valley. No one felt the bitterness of the sight 
 nhore l^eenly than the poor fellow who was txyiag to 
 maks his way against the pitiless stena He was a 
 young &eI, poorly dothed, «od on hia shotMeis bo had 
 a case containiqg some boolu. Ho was ono of ibose 
 "poor schohuns" who^ in Ireland/ when ihey/ wished 
 to go to college Uk gel their odncailion, used to Mve 
 on the journey by ik» eharity of the poo|il% who 
 ahy^s gave them, a hoMty we&eoMo. ^ 
 
 2, 7his poor feHow had walked &rtbkidiy/<n the 
 hop^that^ bo loight bo ablo to reai^ thonttktftown 
 by night-time ; but he oould not His slfii|ftb had 
 nearly given out; he felt ill Mid weary, asid would 
 fain lie down on the cold, snow-dad gnoiiKt He 
 
TBI AKWABD Of CBASOTI, 
 
 m 
 
 Btniggled on a IkUe tMtm, Im looked up inipkriiigly 
 to He#.Teii, be felt his Uood giowing oold within 
 his V6in% his lags refused to ovry him snj farther, 
 he tottaiTed and fell; no^hnnuaT eye saw, no human 
 ear heard his piteous ay. B^t One saw him, with- 
 out whose will a hair of his head could not be 
 injured. The snow so(A eoveied up the poor, way- 
 worn scholar. 
 
 a About the time when the poor lad iett, the 
 parish-priest was o^jUed to Tisit a sick persim. A 
 ms,n ht^ bcei^ suddenly taken ill^ aad^ as he was not 
 expected to live, a messenger was dispatched fer 
 Fatihfff O'Neill The lught was wUd, indeed^ but the 
 good priest did not wait to see if the storm would 
 abate. He got o\ t of bed, ihressed hastily, and set 
 out on his weary journey, fie waa a man of about 
 thirty, tall and straight ; asd he i^ode along as if he 
 did not, in the least, mltd t^ iMirkl storm xagiBg 
 abound him. Of a sudden, he stops and looka down, 
 for he has. striick something with his l(^ 
 
 4 He woul4 have ^e^t on his wa^^ but that a iSittt 
 mofw strikes on his ear. "Qiod of Heaven T' eiied 
 the priest, ''wl^t is this 7 Csr ii be » maa buried w 
 theipiowt" He scraped awsy the snow, and tiiere 
 lay the poor scholar) who had lain cbwn to die» but 
 whom the good Jesus ha4 ssot his mpiisteir to Vftv^ 
 The priest took the boy home with him, put him Into 
 hjs own bed» and affUed aU the remfd'ef he ki^w of. 
 9esneoeededa«la8t^re|tQr^g% poor ycmh/IHil 
 i^r^ moxiiiiig he wii in e vid 
 
 f Fair fluoe long weeks he^ la^ th|i% ini d^ii^ 
 tlpt tiiji^ how Qften did he not Ueas the good nm^ 
 
14S 
 
 TBI THIBD aiiDIR. 
 
 who tended him so kindly, who rappliod^ll hit wftiita, 
 Md soothed his resUesi nights by tinging beantiful 
 songs, or telling him the wild tales of their fi^erland. 
 At length, he began slowly to get better ; aitd, as he 
 grew stronger, he told the priest that he was an 
 orphan, alone and friendless, and he wis now going 
 to a distant relative^ in Dublin, to tiy to pick np an 
 education. Father O'Neill would gladly haTO^had 
 him remain much longper, but could not prevail on 
 him to stay. As soon as he was well again, he set , 
 out, wi1& many thanks lor all that the good priest 
 had done for him. i 
 
 6. The time went A<nkj by at first, bat tlmi it 
 began to pass more rapidfy, until thirty years had 
 rolled on since the night when Father O'Neill found 
 the poor scholar in the snow. Not Tory lightly had 
 time used the good priest, for his head was white^ 
 and the once manly form was bent now, with that 
 caieaof many a year. His once springing step had 
 loa| its Tigor now, and he could no laagfu do Ae 
 work he had so long and wdl performed. He b^gan 
 to foel that he wanted a younger prieet> who should 
 take his' place by hie aide, and help him in the dis- 
 ohaige of those duUes, whidb were becoa^og toolnany 
 for him. But the priests we fow enough in those 
 days, and It wai hard for Ml hariiop to eend him an 
 ffassistantu \ 
 
 7. One eT«»ng ha jHid been «1lid Away ob a sii^- 
 call, and, fmj coming home^ r-is tok. that a gentliNnaii 
 was waiting to see him. lutering \ he hnmble puiof 
 ofhisl^laho8se^h0WMsomewh«t iirpiiaed to eae 
 risii^ lo gnet Hih • taB. iBe4odklii man, hi the 
 
^r^'^^^^^^'^t:^^ 
 
 tam SIWABD OF GHiJUTT. 
 
 148 
 
 [)rim6 of Mfe, with ■omething of* priatlly look mboat 
 him ; who, in uiswer to hii inquirioi, iiifbrmed him 
 that, merely pawing through the town, on hii way to 
 a place farther south, he wished to see Father O'Neill, 
 of whom, he said, he had often heard a friend^ in 
 America^ speak. 
 
 8. The old priesi ooiirteou»ly &de him he seated, 
 and, remarking that the stranger had mentioned 
 America, asked him if he had heen there, lately. 
 This led to a pleasant chat, in the eoorse of which 
 it came out that tha visitor had spent a good part 
 of his life beyond the seas, and had just come hack 
 to Irsland to itto, once more, the home of his child- 
 hood. F(Hr, said he with a smile, " I was born on 
 Irish soil, and ordained, too, in Ireland!" 
 
 9. ^'OrdainedJ" said Father O'Neill; "so yon are 
 a priest .1 had tiiought as much from your appear* 
 ano% Why did you not tel SM so before r "That,** 
 said the stranger, "ia emlained by my fearing lest 
 yon might not take me te «no> from my present garbi 
 and think that^ perhafMi I was imposing upon you. 
 Bat^ to set the matlir entirely at rest^ hero are m^ 
 letters from my Biahof in America.'* 
 
 Father O'NeiM aasured him that there was no need 
 to show them, and, repeating his welcome to the 
 priest^ from anas t^ ooaaii^ begged that hf wonM 
 pass the night und«p ys rooC » « 
 
 1 0. In eheerfnl talk the evening waif spel^t, and when 
 Father O'Noill bado his guest good-night, he ihoQ|B;ht 
 he had uoti hi a kn^ t\m», met so pleasant a com- 
 panioa. Next monHng, although ho had spoken ol 
 t iOiE in great haa^r tho stoiiige priest did not go 
 
 * ^1 
 
100 
 
 fmM TBasb BMAomL 
 
 awigr. te aU Hoit day either; and Che end of it all 
 wm,iaa^ ^fterfceott^eofviaits to tiie reeidence of 
 ttie Bfehop, in the neighboilng town, he quietly settled 
 down it 9ath^ O'N^ill'B assisteni 
 ^ 11. Ne^ir, Ibr a moment, hed the good old man 
 .^ to regret the day when tiie stranger ditne to 
 him: Not only did he tidra a great part ot Fathei 
 <Weiir» harderti dntiee off Ide shoulders, but heat 
 tended toaUhis wants ; and, when the old maJi grew 
 so feeble that he eould do scarcely any thing ibrhim- 
 , aelfi he was like a loving child, softening his path in 
 all things, and cheering his dd age. \ 
 
 m Slowly the old priesr d«>op«d, nearfng; with 
 every day. the end to whiish alife weliliflpent made hfin 
 look withont ftar. All through ^ atitomn he giew 
 
 WQie%«ii4 by the time tlmt winter hiul set in, it ms 
 evideni that soon ^^ loving hmids of the stuaige 
 priest would be relieved fiom their office. It was on 
 » i^;ht, in Decemb«;e»tetly Hke that On whi«ih^more 
 than thirty years ago, the poor scholiir had so neivly 
 perished but for him, that the good priest lay dying. 
 
 Id. The Jms, ouoe so mild Ihd ^^asaat with its 
 warm snule, was now pinched and deathlike. Ati obe 
 aide of the room stood the table, with its white doth 
 and candles, on which had rested the Roly Tiaticttm, 
 which the dying priest heel jusl tedeii^ed. The «re- 
 light gleamed on his sunken Ibatures, and lestid on 
 the bowed hM of 1^ awistant^ 1^0 art ki illenee 
 om the ft»oiof tile bed. Without, ihe witti ho^riid 
 and shook tike ^ l^ouae from top to bo^oub; tad tiie 
 sttow fell thiek and steadily. 
 
 14 At lengtii, ea tf the tiioui^t sudd^ stni<^ 
 
 %M^ 
 
 ^. , M '. 
 
TJtt OOOB 6]!J> maHQM. 
 
 151 
 
 him, iU dying prieefc raised his head feebly and aUi 
 
 ing to the other, hade him stoop near him. The 
 
 young priest did so, and tl^ old man making a great 
 
 effort, said to him, «T«H ma, are not you the poor 
 
 scholar, whom thirty yeaiB ago Uiis night* I saved 
 
 from a bitter deattit'' « I am,*' answewd the stranger, 
 
 his voice broiwi with emolioi^ "I ain the poor lad, 
 
 whom your ehii^^itti «iat night saM that in your 
 
 dymg h»inr, I ttight thw mmiater toyon the hist rites 
 of our Holy dhurch." 
 
 16. Hardly had he^ii^ed these trorA, when with 
 a gasp, and breathing the holy m^nes dt Jesus and 
 Mary, the Qldprnat breHlhed hl» last Such are the 
 
 wayaofBiilivh^irisddmdoesiaiaiingBwea thus, 
 had the charity of the priest met with a rich rewaid. 
 
 — ' " ■♦*»■ 
 
 IiBSSON LI. 
 
 The Good Old Plough. 
 
 FaAi; battte, %ht;\ 
 GLrt^ftto-iHo, shining, 
 
 sparkling. . 
 Rus'wo, a countryman. 
 Wab'tabh^ struggle, eon- 
 
 tesi 
 
 Coh^QUEB-iBD^ won, gained. 
 
 StubIbobn, hard, unyield- 
 ing. 
 
 CffAPtist, a wreath, gajs 
 
 land. 
 Laub'sl, an eveigreen, 
 
 nsed of ofd |a orawn 
 
 victora ♦ * 
 
 1 T IT them sii^ wfho may of the bit«& fti^. 
 -Li And tii deecb ^t have long i^Mf passed • 
 Let^litni ehMit iajH^ia^sftiialariiietoriii^' 
 Am spent on tlm ooaaii' vwi 
 
 .# 
 
152 
 
 THS THDEtD READEE. 
 
 I would render to iheae all the worship you please 
 
 I would honor them even now; 
 But rd give fiur more, from my heart's full store, 
 
 To the cause of ^he good old plough. 
 
 2. Let them laud the notes that in the music float. 
 
 Through the bright and glittering haWs ; 
 While the graceful twirl of the hair's bright curl 
 
 Bound the shoulder of beauty falls. 
 But dearer to me is the song from the tree. 
 
 And the rich and the l^Ossoming bough : 
 Oh ; these are the i^weets which the rustic greets. 
 
 As he follows tbe good old plough. 
 
 3. Full many there be, that daily we see. 
 
 With a selfish and hollow pride, 
 Who the ploughman's lot, in his humble cot^ 
 
 With a scornful look deride i 
 But V^ rather take a hearty shake 
 
 From his hand, than to wealth I'd bow ; 
 For the honest clasp of his hand's rough grasp 
 
 Has stood by the good old plough. 
 
t. ^<»«H then, to those gray Old men 
 When at last they aie bowed with toU; 
 Their war&re o'er, they battle do more, 
 ^ For theyye conquered the iMbom soa 
 And the ehaplet eaeh wean is his irilver haiis, 
 
 And ne'er shall the victor's brow 
 With a laurel crown to the ^Tave go down. 
 Like the sons of the good dd plough. 
 
 IS$ 
 
 liESSON LII. 
 
 Jom^VKf, a going from one 
 place to another. 
 
 Drba'bt, veiy dufl, cheer- 
 less. 
 
 GLi^'tKK, to shme faintly. 
 
 GuiDB, to lea<t to direct. 
 
 Ad-vancb', to go on. 
 
 Grasp, to take hold of 
 Moo'dt, dark, sullen. 
 A-BBUFT', sharp, short 
 Tmb'w.blb, very diwlful 
 TvN'axANOB, revenge. 
 
 T ItE » »>umey. »»n • ti^yeUtt Some And . 
 IJ 0eMMt«»d.othM«.d««yoa,.. while, tomort 
 men. tte_ jo«n.y i, j^a^ cheeriU nor ^ ^ 
 
 »3, • bMMi«et of beauty. Anm. dwk eloadi «towr 
 the «:ai Hke . pdl; «a4 ,et ^d. c«e, *ver oT 
 and tW«,«W5f d«M eeem. to flU the W ^ 
 
 ht^^ ■'****• *^ ^''•»''^ «»o«l or «n ratott. 
 
 ' I iB^'fitlCTwiilffilmiifmi^flffilflifiTMrfii 
 
 '»i2 
 
154 
 
 TAB THIRD KBiJ)^ 
 
 childhood aoftrcii mj «^^ii4 to m bvl tl^ most 
 familitf friends, fath^^ moti^rs, bj^Qtheis, and sis- 
 tera, and happy w^, if even they a?e with m. Many 
 a one begins this journey, stepplug firam the omdle 
 with not a ciul to gnlde him. Soon, howeyoTr new 
 faces are seen. {Teighbori drop i;n. The wwA widens 
 aA we advance. Strangers become our pUymates on 
 the way. Stranger hands grapp oiir% stranger eyes 
 peer into our faces, and stranger Toioes whisper in 
 our ears. 
 
 8. Some look kindly upon us; the gentle soul wells 
 up in the mild eye, and we believe them good. Others 
 seem dark and moody; the abrupt vdce, flashing ^ye, 
 and swift hand, seek terrible vengeance for a trifling 
 wrong. And yet an act, a word, nay, even « glance, 
 will sometimes disarm their fiercest anger. Who are 
 wholly good? Who are altogether wicked! How 
 shall we judge these people ? Can we pass along our 
 journey, without harm to ourselves,, doing some good 
 to those we meet on our way ? 
 
 4. My young fiiends, we axe all traveling this jour- 
 ney of life— which of us ia too well prapared f Li 
 there any one who has nothing to learn, so as to make 
 the road a safe one for himself t Many q| those who 
 travel with us are certa^ly dangwcMis pemoni Bob- 
 bers lie in wait for us all along the vrate^ ready to 
 take ouir most valuable treasurea lltievaa and pick- 
 pockets chat ideasantly with us, and w«it a iehanee to 
 steal th€| J9w^ moat precious to our soukk 
 
 $. IMvf are th^re to take away our good name; 
 and criminals df every grade stand waiting to trap us,] 
 mk intk Wt %w» pav^evlar wkdiednesa It would 
 
THE JoxmtfEt ot uyi, 
 
 nt 
 
 be A hard matter to guard ourselves against eo mueh 
 wrong; if we knew onr enemies by sight; Jipw much 
 more so, when it k soareely possible to teJl the good 
 from the bad I Two remedies are lef. us to protect 
 oureelTes, and to aid Uie g66d against the wicked. 
 
 6. We must first see that our own soul and body 
 are par*; that we may not be touched by the sin 
 around us, and become wicked ourselves. We must 
 guard ereiy point, by wisdom and virtue, that no 
 enemy rx^y find a weak spot for attack. Then, when 
 we ourselves have become secure, we must turn to 
 help ovr feUowa. And, after all, one of the best 
 means of protecting ourselves is to help our neigh- 
 bor. He will help us in turn; and thus we shaU be 
 doubly strong in time of danger. 
 
 7. If we only reflect from time to time that we are 
 all travelling on the same road--the road that leads 
 to eternity— it will make us kinder, more oonsidOTate 
 of the feeliii^ of our fdlo^tmvellers on the journey 
 of Pb. We can do mu<& to make the road pleasanter 
 for each <i»her, by bearing witii each other's pecu- 
 liar ways, and being alwaya cheerful and a&ble to 
 all 
 
 8. You will easily understand this if ycm think how 
 unpleasant it is to be in tiie company of a orote, ill- 
 tempered peifson, whether a child or a grown-up man 
 or w<^man. As<mrl%i«ie and black kioks m one per- 
 son will throw * gloom over a whole oompsny. I^ 
 theni you want your joamey of life to ^ peasant and 
 agweablc, keep always a smiling face, and a sweet 
 temper. 
 
15$ 
 
 TttS THIRD RgADIB. 
 
 LESSON LIII. 
 
 'SAVsn Patbick. 
 
 Oo-oun'BXS^T^ooL place. 
 Bu'bopb, one of the prin- 
 
 dpal quarten of the 
 
 globe. 
 Wab'bi-obs, men devoted 
 
 to war. 
 Faith'ful-lt, carefully, 
 
 exactly. 
 WoM^DBBS, strange, mr- 
 
 prising things 
 
 Kab'vel-ous, uncommon, 
 
 surprising. 
 Pbb-par-a'tion, getting 
 
 ready. 
 Pa'oan, one wlio adores 
 
 false gods. 
 Shep'bbbd, one who tendip 
 
 or watches sheep. 
 A-pos'tlb, one who spreads 
 
 the true &ith. 
 
 I WILL tell yon a story that I think you will like. 
 It occurred many years ago, in old Europe, long, 
 long before America was known to the rest of the 
 world. It is about a boy who lived in France a ver}% 
 very longtime ago. His parents were rich and noble, 
 and they loved him deaxly. 
 
 2. One day, when he and his companions were 
 playing by the sea-shore, they were wrried 6ff by 
 some warrior men from Ireland, and were taken as 
 slaves to that country. Such was the custom of those 
 times. The captive youths were sold to <^fferent 
 masters, and our youth fell into the hands of a very 
 cruel one, who sent him to herd his flocka grasing on 
 themount^ns. 
 
 8. Now this was hard life for one who had becL 
 so carefully brought up,^d had lived so happily in 
 
 •/ 
 
'ft* 
 
 HAIHT PJLTBIOK. 
 
 167 
 
 his own fair land. Nevertheless, he did not repine; 
 he hoped in Qod, and, Jkuowing that the best way to 
 please Him was to obey his master, even though he 
 was a harsh one, and to do faithfully the wotk that 
 was given him to do, he did it cheerfolly 
 
 4j. At first he shed many a tear for the liomei 
 friends so far away. Soon, however, he began to take 
 pleairtire in looking at the works of God— the sky and 
 the clouds, ihc monntailift^and the trees, the Uidt 
 
■■J^i^ 
 
 thni wig fo •weetly in ll)«t oouotry, and «Ten the 
 nuimyHOolored buttorfliis that flitM by <m «1m sum. 
 mw ftir, «^l]le thoqgbt bow gMi micI migbfy must 
 t>9 tbn Qod wbo 9m4i$ tbe earth an4 th« beayahs, 
 witb all ibeup w^^ndam, and wbo gave to maii iba.priy. 
 ilege of knowing Him, and tbe power to love and 
 serve Him. 
 
 5. He bad spent fill! aevanjeMw in tibia baid and 
 toilsomo life ; be bad enffered muob inm oold i^d 
 hunger, never mnnnur^, bni bcivin^ all tbings 
 cheerfully for Qod'a aako, iHieo one n^bt an angel 
 came to him ae be elep^ and told bim be idumld soon 
 see hie dear native land again-^Ui#t a diip was rea^ 
 to take bim borne. FuU of joy, be set out next mom- 
 ing for tbe sea-eoast^ and ftniving there, be saw a 
 ship lying at aneb<»; bound for France. 
 
 6. He bumbly beson^^ the ei^w ^ give bim a 
 passage, but l^iey r^sed. liien i^e yoong mi^ only 
 laid, " God's will be donel'* and tamed ftway witb a 
 heavy heart He W ^yeW only • ftw miles, 
 when he was overteken by § m4isenger, praying bun 
 to return and go <»i boav^iNr liii bis Qod bad sent 
 a twrible stonn, wWeh bad 4i*l»p Oie ship ba<^ to 
 tbe coast as often ei lAi ^M^^ited # pufe to «ea. and 
 the crew beg^ tt mmk %i|t « wm beoaase of their 
 raiiiKag bicb a poiPfa. 
 
 7. Meekly blessing Ood Iw <lna mirvelous fever, 
 he retiufned with Uie messenger, went mi boi4d, ud 
 ^e ressel ;9^ eaiJ with, a fair wind for Inpoi; On 
 reacbiiig bis JiaUve shore, the youth's list i^bi^ w^ 
 ^ kneel on the sandy beaeb, and of^ bii 4b«nha te 
 
 &■ .J^t ! ' 
 
uiVTiBAmamu 
 
 a«9 
 
 He remained at home oBUy % ihort time, when 
 again he wm warned in a dream of Ood'a wiU oon- 
 ceming kirn. He aaw in a Tition tha ehildren of 
 the Ifiak race holding osi their haada to him, and 
 
 beaeeohhig him to go baek amongat them. 
 
 a B«ii^ only anziona to do the wiU of God, he 
 w«it taan oneli <tf hia, Getmamia. wbo waa a biah<» 
 and a great aaiii^ and, by hia advice and inatnmlioa, 
 he prepaied for the holy miniatiy. After aeveial 
 yeara of preparation, ha aet out on foot for Borne, 
 where Celeatiiif^ ftjQother i^eat aaint, waa then Popat 
 
 •. By him 0!^ former eaptive waa made a bia^p, 
 and tent, with a few companion*, to preach thi|.tQ«|»|i 
 i*^ % pagwi iMd wher* ha, had been a ■hepheid boy 
 la a little time ho had oonTerted the whola eountry 
 and nearly aU tho prinaea and- great people, to the 
 Chriatiaii faitti. He made ptieate and ]^opa,aiid 
 built <&oa^eaaU ovw that beautiful ooui^. 
 
 Th^t afeptiw b<Qr waa PAmiCE, the Apoatle of h^ 
 land, wha ia hononed 1^ tha Ohi^oh of Qod aa one 
 of tha piatent d her aainte. 
 
 iWse to hia name, the ranaom'd alaTe wha broke 
 All other chaina, and aet the bondsman free ! 
 Rfwio ta hia name, the Huabandman who aowed 
 The ipMid aeed o\rer all that fertUe ialel 
 Pi»iM to the Heidamao, who, into the fold 
 Of tfia Ona Shepherd, lead our father'a %cl^ 
 Whcie vaice itiii wOlp aa. whereaoeV wa hidft 
 
 Ml 
 
100 
 
 tSM TBIRD BIADIBk 
 
 LESSON LI?, 
 
 Tn Great Wall or Cbiva. 
 
 In'tsr^talb, spAcet, dii 
 
 ta&oei. 
 If a-tbr'i.als, tbat oat of 
 
 which anything it made. 
 Di^SPAiR', want of hopo. 
 OoU'Voa'KD, built of. 
 PLANn, lerd spaces. 
 iK-TiR-rKR'iNO, hindering, 
 
 being in the way. 
 
 CULTI-VAT-ID, that has 
 
 been worked, or oared 
 
 for. 
 Mil'liov, a thousand times 
 
 a thouund. 
 Doif-iN'iON8,countiy,king- 
 
 dom. 1 
 
 lutDXJB'-TKr, attention to 
 
 wodL 
 
 IN the eastern part of Asia lies the aadent empire 
 of China, a country which is of great extent. It^ 
 people, in old times, were very mueh annoyed by the 
 savages»who dwelt in tiie neighboring eouutry, and, 
 in order to protect themsdves, they built a great "traU, 
 to shut themselyes in from their dangerous neighbors. 
 This wall, for aboat six hundred miles of its length, 
 is made of stone and brick, with stnmg, square tow- 
 ers at intervals; the r^aining part consists chiefly 
 of earth. At some points in the latter part of its 
 oourse, it is ahnost antirely broken down. 
 
 1. The WaU is cani^ ever OietqNi of hills sd high, 
 and so diiB^ to fsaeh, that it is aot easy to under- 
 stand how tlM materials were oonTeyed there, or how 
 the dunsee cenld build forts in spots when Snio- 
 peaM we«ld haTe giv<»» «p the attend in deiNprdi; 
 
IBB GRlAir WALL OF ORIlfJL 
 
 lei 
 
 fL III its firoDgatt jMuri Um W«ll«Qf dhlna ia oom- 
 posed of two mXk • foot aad a half thiek and many 
 feet apaii^ tlie fpaoe between tlie two being filled up 
 with earth. In height it k abont twenty feet^ some- 
 times a good deal more, and lometimes leoe; there 
 •re stepi end ineUned planee leading to the top, wh^re 
 six horaemea oan ride aide l^ aide without inter- 
 fering with eaeh othei^a motiona The height of the 
 towera la gonerally about forty feet 
 
 4. The differenoa between the country within the 
 wall, and outside, la, in aome plaeea, moat atriking. 
 On one aide ia a eultivated plain, awarming with in- 
 habitanta; on the other, a aavage deaert, abounding 
 with wild beaata, and aeemingly never trodden by the 
 foot of man. The Wall itsdf offers a ^ery grand 
 sight, atriding over lofty mountaJna and eroasing one 
 ?ast plain after another. It ia now more than two 
 thousand years old, having been completed two hun- 
 dred years before the time of Chriat 
 
 5. Msny mUlloiia of men were needed to oonatruot 
 it, and to obtain them the Emperor of Ohina ia aaid 
 to have ibioed three out of every ten throughout bis 
 dominiona to aerve. Some curioua people have tried 
 to reduce to figures the greatneaa of this wonderful 
 work ; they tell us that all the houses in Great Britain 
 would not sexre it^ build the Wall, without counting 
 the immense towers, which alone contain as mu«h 
 brick and atone aa the entire CSity of London. 
 
 6. It ia aaid thatjthe mass of matter, including tae 
 earthy part in this Wall, ia enough to surround the 
 globe in ita H^est portion with two walls, each aiJE 
 feet }^ and imm thidc from this great work we 
 
 ii«t • 
 
* 
 
 oui fom Ml idea o# irhfl(t mvBt have been Khe indnsiry 
 of tiM OhhieMi It ranks m one uf Hm wondtts of 
 thewoili. 
 
 LESSON hV. 
 Okb by One 
 
 Du^nn, things that peo- 
 ple ought to do. 
 BHbATJi', to ezoite. 
 Lulii-^onB^ very brighi 
 Gm, a predoiis stone, a 
 
 Lim'qeb, (o tarry. 
 Di-8P0in>; to despidr, to 
 
 giTe np hopa. 
 Toil, labor, worit 
 PiL'eBiM-AaB^aloBg; ireai} 
 
 joum^. 
 
 1. r\N£ by one the sands ai« flowing; 
 \J One lay one the moments $$31; 
 Some are coming, some are going— 
 Po not strive to grup thsem alL 
 
 (hie by one thy duties wait thee^ 
 Let thy whole streligUi go to eadi; 
 
 iiet no fittnre dreams elata thib, 
 hmmihmmik whtA tlMiw «an ^mk. 
 
 1 One by one (bright |^ from Hea^reuX 
 Joys are sent thee here below; 
 Take them i^eadily when giveBp 
 Beady, too, to let them ga 
 
 One by one the griefii riiall meet tliae^- 
 
 Do ndt iNor an armed iian^; 
 One win Ibda as otl^n greet thilB; 
 ^^adows pass^ tlapo«i^ i%e liiii^ 
 
a Bo 1104 look •tW,iong«OTow; 
 
 Ood wiU help t^ae tbr *o.mom>w. 
 So each di^ b^ ,g^ 
 
 Every hoiir thet fleeto m slowly 
 
 liMkiUBk to doer bear; 
 «««^wyi tile orowa, wid hofy, 
 
 When eedi gem is aet with caiik 
 
 *. Bo not linger with .^g,^^^^ 
 
 Or for pawttBg 1k)uw deepond 
 Nor, the datty toU foigettbg; 
 
 liOolc too eagerJlir beyondL 
 
 Hours are golden ^nk% Oofiioken, 
 Reaching heav^. b«t out |y ^ 
 
 Trice Ihew, lest tiie ibdn he ^ken 
 *" *• P^lp•alM^«• be dona 
 
 
 ■■•■fi 
 
 fta Flaw <9cAimniu 
 
 CfeuTorEsMg staffs, with 
 orooks on them. 
 
 I»'w-TA-BLn owes. snap, 
 piah. 
 
 NWtlh), made aagty. 
 
 WQitrar >rmer;of the n^^^ 
 Z^^^. • bey of about twel^^ ^ 
 giri aoina iwo years younger The biotiier 5 
 
 pEAD'ows, laige fields. 
 iPurtUTls, othera to pb^ 
 I with. 
 
 piNT, stoppage of Ufe for 
 a time. 
 
164 
 
 THE THIRD BEAOSB. 
 
 sister were very much attached to each other, and in 
 the long summer afbemoons, whea school was over, 
 nothing pleased them so much as to wander ofi t(h 
 getherin the meadows, on their iather^s &rm, or into 
 the oool depths of the neighbouring forest When 
 they were together, Charles and Anna never seemed 
 to regret that they had no other playmates of their 
 own age. 
 
 2. But a time came when the love of the gWsistei 
 for her brother was to be put to a very, severe test 
 One day Anna had gone to visit an aunt, who hsAi 
 bften invited her to go and pass a day witb her,] 
 Charles could n6t go with Anna/as his father i^ 
 
',-Iw>Pg(tJ^C ', ;, ■; ;; 
 
 TBI FIB8T QUABREL. 
 
 m 
 
 at home to do som Ghing for him. The little 
 
 prl enjoyed herself very much at Aunt Sarah's, and 
 
 It really sorry when she had to say good-by, and 
 
 Bt into the wagon, in which one of her aviif^ fiurm- 
 
 inds was to drive her home. 
 
 3. When she got near her fitther's house, she won- 
 dered why she ooold see no one about the place, and 
 
 still more surprised, on coming up to the door, 
 find no Qharlie, with his usual glad welcome, run- 
 ning out to meet her. She hastened into the house, 
 id was about rushing up the stairs, when her father, 
 oming out from a room above, called out to know if 
 it was she. When she answered, he told her to 
 rait down s^tairs, one moment and he would be down. 
 le said he had something to say to- her. 
 
 4. When he came down, Anna wondered why he 
 so pale. ** Where 'S Mother, and Charlie ?'* was 
 
 er first question. 
 
 "My dear chUd," said her father, in » pained sort 
 voice, Tve got to tell you something that you 
 Dust tiy to bear welL Boh^t go off into a &int, 
 on't even ecream. Tour brother^s been badly hurt I" 
 poor Anna's &oe grew pale as her fikther^s, but she 
 kvely kept herself from sereaming. All she said 
 ras, ** Where is het" and when her fitter ans(wered, 
 [np-stairs," she waited for no mofe, bat darted away, 
 id never stopped till she was kneeling by the bed 
 rherelayher brother, with his still, white face, that 
 Dked as if he was xlead. 
 
 5.*Chftrliehad, indeefl, been badly hurt He had 
 le out, after doing the task set him by his father 
 It UMMWlii^ i^o^^^t^^ woo4i|9r» ramble. He had 
 
nm 
 
 TBB THIKD BSADEft. 
 
 it*" 
 
 not gottt te, tftoti^, tillf itetng * bircTs nest in a high 
 bmnoi df sn dd tree, he had elimbed up, and, the 
 limbs heiiig rotten, one of them gave way under bis 
 weight He was thrown to the groratd, a great dis- 
 tance, and so much hurt tiiat he could, not move. 
 There he lay^, until his fkther, growing alarmed at his 
 htig ahsenoe, eame in seerch of hhn. And carried him 
 homo. The doetcnr found that his left leg had been 
 broken, so badly Uiat it would have to be cut off 
 below the knee& 
 
 6. So, pooF Charlie lost his leg, and, when he got 
 well enough to be up again, he had to limp tooivd 
 on fliittohes. It wae a great change for* a boy who 
 had beoi e^aetlve and lively; but |f there Wae any 
 thing which ma^ llim bear it with patience, it was 
 the teoider bve of his little sister. Anna would give 
 up any pleasure to go with (Tharlie, whenever he 
 wished to make his way oi I to the garden, or any of 
 his fiivorlte haunter He couM, of course, go but a 
 short way lit » tisie, for he grew tired very soon 
 Anna was ahrays ready to take hie arm, or to prepare 
 a pleasant seat §oir him in sonke niee place; and when 
 he wished, she would sing M him, or itMii sto^' for 
 him. 
 
 7. WHh a^ iier goodness to her lattit irother 
 thengh, Anntt luid a pretty bttd temper, irhidi it was 
 ne# hard to eaieite ; «nd Charles^ ever einee'^ihe loss 
 of feisle^lMd grown l^t^ and eocnetinMe igied to 
 be rather cross. Thus it happened that, oiii day 
 the good-will which had so long^ existed between him 
 and hm sister was very near givmg ]^Me to very 
 \Mm Itolii^ 9er aliig^^nie Aisi* lM# iip# 
 
■^•p 
 
 TSm FIRST QITABRIL. 
 
 W 
 
 in a high 
 and, the 
 nder bis I 
 reat die- 
 >t move.! 
 set at hifi 
 lied him 
 lad been 
 e cut off] 
 
 II he got 
 
 boy who 
 Was any 
 », ii was 
 tntid give 
 Dever he 
 )rany ofl 
 go but a| 
 ary soon. 
 prepare I 
 kiiid when 
 i^'- for 
 
 IVother 
 ji- Hwas 
 
 'the loss 
 
 iHied to 
 
 ott» day 
 
 rcMt him 
 
 . to- very 
 
 Hff^ he* 
 
 temper rn^eok, evext when Charles was most irrita- 
 ble, but, on this chky, it was put to too severe a trial 
 
 8. Ber aunt had g;lven her, the day before, a beHni- 
 tiful little watch and chain, as a present. Now, ^hen 
 Charles had got seated on a rustic bench, out in the 
 garden, he suddenly took a notion that he would like 
 to look at the new watch. Anna gave it to him, but, 
 as she prized it very much, told him to be very care- 
 'ul how he handled it Thib nettled the proud little 
 fellow, and he asked her if he di(f st know as mudh 
 
 bout handling it as she did. She said, if he spoke 
 ike that, he should have to give it back to her. But, 
 stead of miiiding wh<iit sbe was saying, he went on 
 ngering it, and, at last, began to take it apart. 
 
 9. €btting: angry at his paying so littlo heed to her 
 arning, Anna ixM him he must give it bade. He 
 id he would noi She said he would htfve ta give it 
 ip, or die WQvld make him. He b^gan tb laugh at her 
 hreat, at whid) sha grew so enr«ge<^ that sht) nnlde 
 
 snap at the watohj and> in leaning is^ him too 
 r, kaockeid his anitehes awtty from him. Qhiiarles, 
 ngry that she should have thds takatt the watch from 
 inoy started up ta run after her, when he ihoi%hi of 
 s ^|me leg, and felt so helpless that he began to oiy 
 itterly - 
 
 IOl Anni 1^ been very angry, but the eight of her 
 
 or brothei^s tears so softened her heart, that she 
 
 ooped, picked up lifi drutehes, and asked him to 
 
 brgiya to, iMPomising never to let her temper so run 
 
 way with her again. Charlie's good heart was 
 
 uched at this, and he agreed to foigetthefr little 
 
 uarvaL T^ ifil a good leiMMi to ijoill'lk^tl^er 
 
 
 wM 
 
KW 
 
 TBI THIBD BKADIR. 
 
 ftfter that, she wtm as kind as ever to her lame 
 brother. It turned out to be their last quarrel, as 
 it was the first they had ever had. Anna regretted 
 that quarrel all her life. 
 
 LESSON LVII. 
 Beadt for Duty. 
 
 Daf'it-dowh-dil'lt, a 
 flower that blossoms 
 early in spring. 
 
 Mould, earth. 
 Sub'faob, top. 
 Clus'tbb-ed, gathered. 
 
 \ 
 
 1, T\ AFFY-DOWN-DILLY came up in the cold, 
 iJ Through the brown mould. 
 
 Although the March breezes blew keen on her face 
 
 Although the white snow lay on many a place. 
 
 Daffy-down-dilly hkd heard under-ground 
 The Bweeti rushing sound 
 
 Of the streams, as they burst off their white win- 
 ter chains--^ 
 
 Of the whistling spring winds and the pfUitering 
 rains. . m 
 
 2. "Now, then/' thought Dafiy, deep down in her 
 
 hearty ' x 
 
 *'It's time I should start t** 
 80 lAic pushed her soft leaves through the hard, 
 
 frozen ground, 
 Quiti up to the surface, and th«n she looked 
 id. 
 
 \. ' »; 
 
 ■^" 
 
 V 
 
 
BXADT FOB mJTT. 
 
 169 
 
 Br lame 
 arrel, b.^ 
 
 Bgretted 
 
 \ 
 ered. 
 
 lie cold, 
 
 her face 
 iace. 
 
 lite win- 
 ^tering 
 
 There was snow all about her— gray douda over- 
 head — 
 The trees aU looked dead: 
 Then hew do you think Dafly-down-diUy hh, 
 When the sun would not shine, and the ioe would 
 not melt? 
 
 [s. "Cold weptherl" thought Dafl^, still working 
 away-^ 
 
 "The earth's hard to-day I 
 There's but half an inch of my leaves to be seen, 
 And two-thirds of that is more yellow than green i 
 I can't do much yet — ^buit 111 do what I can- 
 It's well I began I 
 For unless I can manage to lift up my head, 
 The people will think that the Sprizig herself s 
 dead." 
 
 i So, little by little, she brought her leaves out. 
 And dustered about; 
 And then her bright flowers began to unfold. 
 Till DalEty stood robed in her spring green and gold 
 Oh, Dafi^-down-diUy I so brave and so true I 
 
 I wish all were like you ) 
 So ready for duty in all sorts of weather, 
 I in her I ^^ holding forth courage and beauty together 
 
 he hard, 
 ) looked 
 
^^-•^} 
 
 in 
 
 vn Tmw mmmtL 
 
 LEBSON LVIII. 
 A Stoey about Kino Solobiqj!? 
 
 Rf-li'ted^ told. 
 
 Ha." i e'ei-al, tliat of whicli 
 
 any thing h Biade. 
 Dis-plat'bd, iii, 
 
 F.il'aou, the h/G^ 
 which a kkg limA. 
 
 AB-TI-Fi'oiiX, mads by m^ 
 not natuTfiil M. 
 
 I Dk-tjbot', to find out. 
 
 E^ING BOJjy'k^CM, V01I know, was the wieest ofl 
 k men. Tiio history of lliis great Jong is beautij 
 fiilly related lA the Holy Bible. When Qod gate himj 
 ^ ehoiea of all good thkip, he ehoee " Wiedom.' 
 Qod was 8(v pleased with thii ehoioe/tfaat he added] 
 many other blessings. 
 
 2. It was SLIng Solomon who built, for tbe glory ofl 
 God, the grand temple, ikitki was, for a long time, thel 
 wonder of the w<»id. Tlds temfde was built of thel 
 moit costly and beautfiM materials; ^r Solomonl 
 righUy <ikou|^t, that a temple in which God was tol 
 1)0 worshipped, should be jotft as grand, rich, and] 
 beautiful as possilde. / 
 
 8. Yottliav»,no4o«%t, liMtfd of l^e wisdom Kingl 
 Solomon displayed when two women claimed to be thel 
 mother of xme child. Tou remember that he ord^redl 
 the ehild to be out m two, iiiil one4udf giyeii to eachl 
 <»f the wom^. 1th» pft^mM^ moi^mt consented tol 
 this, but the irus mother begged tliat the ohild should 
 not be divided; she would rather let the wi6ked| 
 
 i'fvM 1 
 
A 8T0i1r iBOtt SIKO 80LOMOH. 
 
 171 
 
 ronuw %ftT6 it^ fhan see her owe dear child killed 
 
 Bforo kxr eyee.^ This tenderness proved to Solomon 
 
 |liat> ahs was the true mother, and, to her great joy, 
 
 ^e gaT^ I €>r the child. This beautlM story Is told in 
 
 4. Bui I will tell yott a little story about Eing (8ol»- 
 
 lon that is noi mentioned in the Bliili. Perhaps it 
 
 {lever hayr^^ened at all; but, as it is pleating, and 
 
 gacbei n^ to think well, before we decide ixiy qnes- 
 
 \a, 1 will relate it. 
 
 6. One of the ladies who lived in the palace oi 
 [ing Solomon thought she would try to puzzle that 
 rise king. She was very skilful at imitating flowers. 
 She made a rose so exactly like a natural one, that 
 rben placed side b^ side, no one could tell by looking 
 ^t them which iras the artiflcial rose, and which the 
 iiatural one. ^^ 
 
 6. ^he then piaeed these two roses before the king 
 |ittt not near enot^h for him to teQ by the touch oi 
 
 lell which was the real rose. She then asked him 
 decide the question. How would you have found 
 liut the difference f Well, King Solomon was wiser 
 lan you are; therelbre he sooa ihought of a way to 
 detect whidi Was the true rose. 
 
 7. He ordered one of his servants to bring several 
 ses into the toom in which the two roses were 
 
 placed. This was done^-aad pretty soon tlie bees 
 )mmenoe4 t»d settle on the real rose ; and thus the 
 ig sealed the question without either tou^^i^ or 
 lelling the rosea. 
 
 -. 1 
 

 ITB 
 
 fin msD »«A^f^ 
 
 LESSON LIX. 
 
 PfiID& 
 
 Miiir, maimer. 
 LuBX'iNO, hiding. 
 
 Svb-mWsive-lt, without 
 oontention or sulkiness. 
 
 PRIDE, ugly Pride, is eometimee seen 
 By haughty look and lofty mien. 
 But oftener it ii found that Pride 
 Loyee deep within the heart to hide ; 
 And while the look^ are mild and fiur. 
 It site and doee its miachief there. 
 Now, if yon really wish to find 
 If Pride is luriung in your mind, 
 Inquire if yon can hear a slight, 
 Or patiently give up your right 
 Obm you ■ubnusslTely consent 
 To take reproof or punishment^ 
 And fedl no asgiy t^nper start 
 In any oomer of your heart f 
 CSaa y(Mi> in business or in pi«y, 
 Give up your wishes or yomr way. 
 And do a thing agahift your wi ., 
 Wot somebody that's younger stiU f 
 Hat oontradietion can you bear, , 
 When you are righ^ and know you are! 
 Not i^tly eontmdict a^^dn— ■ 
 ©ttt wait, and modestly explain^ 
 And teU your reasons, one by one. 
 Nor think oitmmiB^ nHhen you're donef 
 
 \ 
 
 ~.^\ 
 
im wuLta or ■1x011 lumnk 
 
 in 
 
 Pm tM tlMM questioni to your heurl^ 
 And mallM it aot an honwt part:— 
 And, when iikntifym tU been fidrly triad, 
 I think yon'il own that yon ha^a Mi* $. 
 
 ■»> 
 
 I1BS8ON LX. 
 Tkx Dtuaa or Simon Maou& 
 
 Hub'bt-iho, walking Toiy 
 
 h»t. 
 GiLD'sD, aovaiad with 
 
 gold, 
 MA-afcuN, A mm who 
 
 norka in maglo. 
 Em^fs-bob, a gx«at rnlar, 
 
 higher than a king* 
 Plat^fobii, a high t»^ 
 
 efieted ea aa ttbtiaen 
 
 &r. 
 
 CoN^YBKiv one newly 
 
 broaght orer to the true 
 
 &ith. 
 Xif'Fi-<»U8, aetling God at 
 
 deftanee. 
 Eb-tbbic'sd^ nihied. 
 SB-DUCfiD, lad Into «ni9r. 
 OaKomnr, to iBialk 
 Tiai'naHi^ piatfee <tf wor- 
 
 ihip, 
 If aWi, the whole earth. 
 
 I 
 
 T wm early moxslnf , nig^ two thonaaad yeara agiN 
 and aiowda of pe^ie, nee, women, and diildreii, 
 were hmxying thio«|^ the atieeta of Bome^ for a 
 great wonder waa to he aam that diay, wh«a the 
 riaing aoathad tomJMd, with ita warm, roiy laya^^ 
 giMe|lp^ of thi emperc^ p al ae e , fer thate waa 
 an ev^^pem in Jta^ old, eld Uka^ A man 
 
 wat to ai aei d to haaten ; a naan*whom att the maM 
 had piM^ <^ a man who wee fteared % eoia^ ad- 
 
 i.!f2l>i*J:'^^«„ 
 
 i'.-^-. 
 
*y* 
 
 
 M 
 
 mired hj others — Simon Ma^«, the nuigimn, wh 
 oalled himself " the ipreat power of Qod." 
 
 1 It WAS mtfy mioningj hui the stieets were 
 crowded with peoplo of mSI rauks, and of all agesj 
 rich and poor, old w&d young. The emperor 
 been one of the first to repair to the building, whicui 
 had been erected in the square, dose by the platfomj 
 from which the magician was to aecead. 
 
 At some distance from the dense crowd was »; 
 small party of men, who looked m different as poBsi 
 ble from all the rest cCthe pe<^le. . 
 
 8. Amongst them were two of still more striking 
 appearance, who wwe treated by the others with the 
 greatest respect. And so they had a right to be, foi 
 one of them was Peter, Prince of the Apostlei^ aiui 
 fie^d of the Church ; the other was Pau^ the oon- 
 ▼ert, the great preacher. This small knot oi men 
 were a party of the Roman Christians, who had oomf 
 to p^y tteit the spells of the magician might be de 
 feate^ and Simon Magna might not succeed in bis 
 bold and iinpious attempt to ascend into the skies. ' 
 
 4. Simon Me^us bad done much ham to the infant 
 Chufth, and wa% for that rsae^ much esteettned hy 
 tk!# pi^puas. JSe had seduced many inm the right 
 |mA» apd had deeeived thousands by means cf the 
 mooMtal things the devil helped him tevdo. He 
 fips jiMr ahovt to complete hu impiovs ^tareer by 
 twendjiig ottt of sight of his fetiowomi; and so/de- 
 ipiyiag Jo the laat m earth, go to join his friends, the 
 «!rU <virit«» in th* lialm of daitoess, which lie knew 
 #pr«iM bin, beoai^ie he had Idt the true H%ion, and 
 gile||^l^p Qod's aewioe fcur that of the Bvil On% 
 
"i"?,,!,; 
 
 THE jMkrm or aofON laoua 
 
 m 
 
 5. It was the hour, and he ascended the pUtlbnn. 
 [The sun was up, touehing, wHh his rosy imy% the gil- 
 ded pakM» roofs, the slatues, aiui 4he temples, the 
 irdens, and the sparkling fountains, wakiiig to life 
 md melody the singing birds of the woods; and the 
 Sowers opened their oups to his beams, and all naiuro 
 pooked glad wad fresh. Simon ItipM ascends the 
 platform; all is silent as the grave wiita his ti^ form 
 [appei^ before the people. 
 
 6 Hie litOe knot of Christians m Hit #ituioe 
 jkneel down to pray. But he rises inlo lb* |i^— up^ 
 jap, up— higher, higher, untU his Iwm Is Mm0b lost 
 [to ihe strained eyes of the breathless ihxmigl 
 
 "Fairer,*' prayed Peter, ^'strra^heo thjr ^kHipeii's 
 [faith, that they be not deceived by th«> i^dii of Hils 
 tuan.^ 
 
 L wild yeU bursts from the efeowd, $9A n ftMi^ 
 [stir is amongst them — ^the magieian is ^IMagi 
 
 7. Writhing in the air, and screaming, but foiling 
 [mth fearful spcdd ; — another instant, and he is dashed 
 [apon the ground at the feet of Nero, the £n^er(»l 
 They carried him to his house, cursing Qod, and 
 triki^g the very pagans with horror by his wieked 
 [words. In the evenings although both his legs wero 
 [broken by the fall, he eontrived to crawl to a high 
 Iwindoflw mi tifcurew ymsdtf inte ^e street And* ikm 
 [died IKiMii MagBe» the great aagiouui. 
 
 
 ' 'V 
 
J76 
 
 IHS THIBD mHADtau 
 
 LB8S0N LXI. 
 
 . > 
 
 Tbb Old Oasilb. 
 
 Wbsok'BD, brbkeio, spoil- 
 ed. 
 
 Tbss^te, something paid.! 
 
 Ty'ramt, a hard, crue)| 
 man. 
 
 STATEtiT, grand, proud- 
 looking. 
 
 Weird, strange, queeV. 
 
 E-TER'NAIi, living for ever.] 
 
 Wail'ino, crying mourn- 
 fully. 
 
 RAP'TU-Roxts, very glad| 
 joyful 
 
 1. rpHERE 18 an old casUe hangs over the sea^ 
 JL Tis living through ages, all wrecked thougb 
 
 Hbe; 
 There's a soul in the ruin that never shall die. 
 And the ivy ctings round it as fondly as tf 
 
 8. Oht |»:oud aa the waves of that river pass on 
 Their tribute they bear to that castle so lone. 
 And the sun lights its gay head with b^ama irom 
 
 the sky, 
 For he loves the dear ruins as fondly as L 
 
 8. Right grand is the freedom that dwells on the epoi, 
 l^or the hand oi the stran^eer can fetter it not ' 
 
 ." * -"■ ,«•-■•■ ■'■- 
 

 177 
 
 The itnogCh of that OMtl» iii day-ipriiig ha» told. 
 But the loul of the ruin looks oot^ tm of old; 
 i And the liYer— the riyer no tyimnt ooold tame— 
 Sweepe boldly along without terror or ahame ; 
 Tet ihe benda hy that eaetle, ao itately and high, 
 And ungB her own love-aoog as gladly aa I. 
 
 5. How wdrd, oo thoie waters, the ahadows must 
 
 Boem, 
 When the moonlight faUa o'er them, as still as a 
 
 dream; 
 And the star-beams awake, at the dose of the day, 
 To gaae on a river eternal as they I 
 
 6. How the (^losts qS dead ages must glide through 
 
 the gloom. 
 And the fonns of the mighty arise from the tomb. 
 And the dream of the past through the wailing 
 
 winds moan. 
 Wm they twine roiuid the rain aa if 'tware their 
 ';'.'.:/ own. * ". 
 
 7. lliere ia an old eaitie hangs eirer the ssa» 
 And agsa oiffimy yet, yet shall it §m. 
 
 And 'twin smila ta the rivar, and sndle to the sky, 
 Aid smile ta the ftea land when yeaia have gone 
 by; 
 
 8. And children will listaa, with laptoroas fbae, 
 
 Ta the names and the legends that hallow the 
 
 l^lace, 
 WltM some aduatrel ef Irin, ia wi^deriag nigh, 
 BhaU ling that dear oasUe more grandly than 1. 
 
lit 
 
 TBB THIRD BKADSB, 
 
 LBBSOH LXII 
 
 ▲ CkwpBa-Mmft 
 
 VLWamm, hard bodies 
 fotmd in the earth. 
 
 BBAflS, a mixture of eop- 
 per and sAaa, 
 
 Bab'bow, a Bori of little 
 hand-carl* 
 
 A-VAiL'A-BLS, that may be 
 
 used. 
 Gull, a sea-bird. ft 
 Oal'lb-bies, passage. 
 Mi^NUTs', thin, nanhow, 
 
 smaU. ^ h 
 
 UAYB Jim ever notioMl on the sides of large ships, 
 , a bright reddish tsoating, used to keep the water 
 firon gvlUng* into ^e seams of the planks. Well, 
 thai i» eopper, one of the most oseliil metals known. 
 Besides tiie aboyo use, it is laigely used as money. 
 It i% also, made iftto nteoisils of different kinds, iueh 
 as pots and kettles^ also into wire, and applied to 
 many other purposes. Without it^ we would not 
 have any of that beautiAil material, brass, wMch 
 is used in so many ways. In view of tbe great good 
 which results from this mi)|fcal, wa think yon will like 
 to go down with us into • oopper-niln% to aee how it 
 is brought up out of the earth. 
 
 2. Ab yon oome near the mintb all ihst yon will 
 see on the surfiuse is usually WTtitl hnilcliiigii^ mere 
 or less rude, containing the engino and steam-^nrnp, 
 and a number of sheds, whare tlio ooppr^oM is 
 thrown as it ia brought up, and pidcid ovir h^ nrwMn 
 and giill. who, with a littla hammer, knock o# the 
 
^^■^■•r.M 
 
 A colmai-]iiN& 
 
 m 
 
 pfebM irlddl a>e midefls, leikviiig only andk m will 
 pi^ltie etpttiiM of wofking it. All thad Uiey throve 
 8#iiy 18 put ihto bftrtows and taken over to the waste 
 heap, wfrich, in tiAie, beoooito bo large as to be the 
 first thing yoa aee» as yon oome near the mibe. ^^ 
 
 X Another thing you will notice is the mountai# 
 stream, which, instead of ninning dear and pore, as 
 it did before it reaches the mine, flows on thick and 
 bhick, or dingy gray, and so charg^ wiiih the copper, 
 as to be any thing but good for the soil it passes 
 through. There is a onrious copper-mine in a part 
 of ths south of England, called OomwalL It is 
 named the Botallack mine. Drawing near it^ you 
 see the various buildings and machines, not g^npOd 
 together on the level ground or hill-side, as is usual, 
 but scattered up and down the steep face of the diff, 
 on every available led^ of the rock, where there 
 would seem to be only space enough for a gull's nest, 
 the sea breaking and roaring at the bottom. 
 
 4. This mine« which is worked to i very great 
 depth, is oanied out sevOTid hundred yards from the 
 shore, below the bottom of the sei^ ; and, as you walk 
 through its nanow and dark passagei^ you may hear 
 the low moaning of the ocean, far above your head 
 When the weather is rough, and the sea runs high, 
 this dim, strange sound is increased into a roar, fierce 
 and #wful, beyond anything yon have ever heard ; 
 and such Is the horror of the miners, that, though 
 well-used to tho place, they seldom continue working 
 when a storm occurs, Iwt find their way back to the 
 upper air. 
 
 1^ The gfiXkitim of this mine aro very damp. The 
 
180 
 
 THB THIBD WUSyWtL 
 
 stlt- water, fiom above, tomng ito waj Uiioiigli nwoi- 
 erouB ctmIdi, too minute to be mmi, and drippifng 
 slowly on the floor. So oool im the air la this n^ne, 
 that, when you aie not med to it^ yon «Mi rmaiii but 
 a short time down in the ainib 
 
 LESSON LXIIL 
 BirrriBiioinni akd DAism. 
 
 
 Habd^, able to bear hard- 
 ships. 
 Stub'dt, StKMlg. 
 
 1 
 
 A-LERT*, brisk, nimble. \ 
 Show^brs^ rain-fidk 
 Yis'ioH-SD, appearing. 
 
 1. 'nXJTTEROUPS and daisies- 
 D Oh, the pretty flowenl 
 Coming on the spring-time. 
 
 To tell of sunny hours I 
 While the trees are leafle«^ 
 
 While the trees are bara^ 
 Batteroups and daisies 
 
 Spring up heie and thant 
 
 S. Etie the snow-drop peepeth; 
 
 Ere the eroous bold; 
 Ire the early primroae 
 
 0^ Its paly gold— 
 Somewhere on a sunny beak 
 
 Buttercups are bright. 
 Somewhere 'mong the homm gtarB 
 
 Peeps the daii^ whilfi. 
 
8. Littld hardy flowwii 
 Like to children poor, 
 Playing in their sturdy healtli, 
 
 By their mothflt'il door~> 
 Purple with the north wind» 
 
 «Tet aXext and bold, 
 Fearing not, and oaring aol^ 
 Though thij be «-oold I 
 
 «. What to them is weather? 
 
 What are stormy showers f 
 Buttercups and daisies 
 
 Are these human flowersl 
 He who gave them hardship, 
 
 And a life of care, 
 Qave them likewise hardy strength, 
 
 And patient hearts to bear. 
 
 ft. Welcome, yellow bvttenmpt 
 
 Welcome, daisies whital 
 T^ are in my spirit 
 
 Vision'd a de%htt 
 Goming ere the spring-tiflM^ 
 
 Of sunny hours to tell~ 
 Speaking to our hearts of Him 
 
 Who doeth aU thiiiga well. 
 
 181 
 
 .'li 
 
tsi 
 
 108 Taiiu) BEAiam, 
 
 LESSON LXIV. 
 Our Lady of Help. 
 
 BjlYEN, a place of safety. 
 
 Fer'vent, very earnest, 
 very picuB. 
 
 Sus'sEX, a county in Eng- 
 land. 
 
 CoM-MAND-in), ordered. 
 
 Ex-ten'sivb, very wide. 
 
 SuR-vi'voRS, the only per- 
 sons left aliva 
 
 ET/E->MENTS,th6 wlnds, tke 
 storm. 
 
 In-vox'ed, prared to. 
 
 Dis-cern'ed, seen, per- 
 ceived. 
 
 Hi'thbr-to, up to that 
 time. i 
 
 De-spair , want of hope. 
 
 Drift'ed, floated away. 
 
 MOTHER of Qod! mother of mercy! be a mothei 
 to our Reginald! Star of Ocean, shine on him 
 now, and guide him to a haven of safety and rest!" 
 
 Such was the fervent prayer of Gertrude de Tracey, 
 as she stood, with her husband, at the door of their 
 lonely dwelling, which, situate on the Sussex coast, 
 at a short distance from the bei Ji, commanded an 
 extensive seaward view. 
 
 2. Their only son, Reginald, was fiir away on the 
 wide sea, and as they watched the angry waters beat 
 upon the shore, and listened to the mournful voice 
 of the gathering storm, they feared for the peril, and 
 trembled for the safety of their child. In that hour 
 their hearts went up to Qod in pra^/er, and to Mary, 
 the Mother and belp cf Chri9tiana» They prayed 
 her to protect their beloved son. 
 
 3. On that same day, and in that very hour« tho 
 
 ;fe 
 
(mn liADv or wm». 
 
 us 
 
 vmoe ol one in danger, for away on tlie cU^tant Fa> 
 cifio Ocean, rose wildly above the roaring of the tem- 
 pest, " Mother of Meroy I Help of Christiaas ! pray 
 for ^el Jesus mercy I Mary, help!" he eried, as he 
 dung to the broken mast of the siaking ship, he and 
 o'le other, the friend and comrade of his youth, the 
 only survivors of the gallant crew. Those who had 
 taken to the boats, unable to contend with the fury 
 of the elements, had perished within sight of the 
 ainp. Of those who had remained on board, all but 
 these two had been swept from the deck by the resist- 
 less force of the waves. 
 
 4. Again a mighty wave raured in upon the deck, 
 and, again the loud cry " K other of Mercy, help ! " 
 rose amid the storm ; for the faithful client of Mary, 
 in the horror of that hour, next to his firm hope in 
 the saving meroy of the Most High, relied, with un- 
 failing confidence, on the powerful protection of the 
 Blessed Virgin Mother. "Mother of Mercy 1" ihe 
 cried, in accents of holy hope, " pray for thy servant, 
 Reginaldl" 
 
 Yes, it was Reginald de Tracey who was thus 
 crying out for help to bsr whom no one ever invoked 
 in vain, and, at the same hour, in far-oif England, 
 his anxious parents were, on his behalf, calling upon 
 the same sweet advocate. 
 
 6. The tempest still raged, the thunder roiled, the 
 red lightnings flashed fearfully over the waves. It 
 was an awful moment of terror and dismay. Fasc as 
 the eye could reach, over the wide waste of waters, 
 no land could be discerned, no sail f>T>peared in sight ; 
 bat the child of Mary did not des})aii-, and again and 
 
 1^''' 
 
 !ili iPi 
 
 
 :':;i;;yi 
 
18* 
 
 THETEnOEtD HIADIB. 
 
 agaia the cry, "Mother of Meroy, help!" was borne 
 by angels to her starry throne. 
 
 6. " Pray as loud as you like, strain your voice to 
 its highest pitch, calling out for help," at length ex- 
 claimed his companion, who had hitherto appeared 
 sunk in silent despair; "help for us, I tell you, there 
 is none. A few moments, and we shall be swallowed 
 up. If you had not held me back, I might have got 
 into the boat; but, whilst you were preacbiiig and 
 priiiy l':ig. the boat drifted away, and I saw a.o more of 
 Her, so I may thank you for all the good I have k 
 . xpect from your prayers. \ 
 
 7, Hubert 1 Hubert 1 " cried Beginald, *• speak not 
 thus. Have you forgotten how often we have knelt 
 together before Our Lady's altar, how many favors 
 we have both obtained, in ^imes past, through her 
 assistance?" 
 
 '* But she helps us not now," was the unkind reply, 
 ''now when most we need her help. Has her protec- 
 tion lost its power?" 
 
 "Hubert^" exclaimed Beginald, "her prayers are 
 all-powerfiil with that Divine Son of her's, at whose 
 command the tempest ceneed and there came a great 
 calm." 
 
 ^. "But can she save us now, when the next 
 moment may be our last?" "She is the Mother of 
 God;" wtkS Beginald's reply, as he drew frcan his 
 bos(»n, sokd devoutly kissed the Rosary his mother 
 had given him on the day of his first communion. 
 
 "Mother of Mercy/' said he, "pray for my vat 
 happy friend. What will become of him if lie should 
 die with such words upon his lips?" 
 
OUB LADT OF HELP. 
 
 186 
 
 ihould 
 
 "Pray on/' ihouted Hubert, "expect help from 
 Heaven till the foaming waters sweep you from the 
 deck. I will aet a braver part, make a bold effort, 
 and trust to my own good strength." 
 
 \, Whilst he spoke thus, he withdrew his graop 
 from the reeling mast, and, it would seem, in the 
 hope of escaping going down with the rapidly sinking 
 vessel, he plunged into the roaring water, intending 
 to try if he could not save himself by swimming. 
 
 Reginald raised his eyes to Heaven; "Mother of 
 Mercy, help him," trembled upon his lips, while he 
 dung more firmly himself to the tottering mast. 
 
 10. A wild, loud shriek of horror rose, the next 
 moment, from the deep. It was the despairing cry 
 of the wretched Hubert *^'A shark! a shark!" he 
 wildly exclaimed, ** Mother of Mercy ! help I help!" 
 
 It was a moment of fear and horror. Reginald 
 tried to speak, but the effort died away in faint mur- 
 murs on his lips. He listened to hear the cry repeat- 
 ed, but heard only the howling of the storm. 
 
 A chilliness came over him, his eyes grew dim, his 
 Aoul was filled with fear for Huberts terrible fate. 
 
 11. He thought of his own dreadful danger, of hk 
 fond father, of his tender mother, of his happy home, 
 and his heai't sank within him. But he thought also 
 of his Heavenly ~^ather, of the sweet M'other of 
 Mercy, and of the true home above, and a beam of 
 hope and holy joy passed through his soul Bui his 
 strength waa exhausted, his hands were benumbed, 
 he was no longer able to grasp the mast; he crossed 
 his arms in humble submission, and murmvied, "Lutfd 
 Jestts, save me, or I perish. Movher of M«w(f .. inay 
 
 't.'i!:iiiii!;n= 
 
 
 >:K:iU,t)rt«i*>i"<iT urn 
 
 IB 
 
 ..lUniilf 
 
m 
 
 tBM TBtlBIl lOAnBlt 
 
 fe' 
 
 fbr m«. BlMMd Saint Joiepli, tisxd tiKm, my boly 
 atigel -"''—'' Hii toice fidled» and he dropped hie- 
 loss, affc tild foot of the qmvemig tnasi 
 
 12. The following morning datmed bright and 
 elondleni The sea, now smooth as a mIrrOf , glistened 
 in the rajS of the rising tftin, and the light-winged 
 breese, softly Sighing on the perfbmed air, mnrmtired 
 sweet i^eeponses to the matin hymn of nimietous 
 singii^ l^hrds, whose joyons notes aurose in Aill chorus 
 from a small woolly i^t, eove^d With Terdore and 
 watered' by a single river, ptire and deto, that wonnd 
 its silver eurtent through a oharming Ufctle valley, all 
 covered with flowers of the richest tints, still ipark- 
 ling with the dew-drops of ear^jr morning. 
 
 18. (^ the shore stood a young man of wondlrous 
 beauty, supporting a youth who was jmt recovering 
 £rom a swoon in which he had been resctied from a 
 watery giave. Reginald de Tracey's. cry to God and 
 to Om Lady, and his holy Angel Qpardian, had not 
 been uttered in vain. *' Mother of Mercy, help!** was 
 mingled w|bk what had seemed hii parting breath, 
 as he dropped at the foot of the tnasty and he Was 
 snatched from the waves at the very moment whin 
 he was on the point of sinking to ris* tto moii^ 
 
 m 
 
 f^v* 
 
A mm^mus cAmu 
 
 8S0N hXY. 
 A Chbistmas Cakoi*. 
 
 SS^;"" ^^'^'^ "^ ^'^' l^^'^^> ^^^** ^^^^^ eat 
 fc>HEP HERDS, men who tend from. 
 
 Avt!?', X. . . '^^m-mT, very respect- 
 
 A ZUBB, deep bright blue. M. 
 
 WATOH'EKS,pw.a0i«,i^wake Syb'i-an, belonging to Sy. 
 during the night. ^^ -8 "« i-u oy 
 
 MoB'TALs, beings wW die, BiS-veal'ed, shown, 
 men and wome». ^ ^'^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^ ^,^ 
 
 1. mHE moon^a* «ow is shining 
 A in filties so blue a^ bright, 
 
 Shone ages since on shepher<fc 
 Who wateh^ Ojeir flodks by ni 
 
 
''*'-*f\PMf^m^-^-^ 
 
 ♦lQ^^'P?V"t'3T^j^^ 
 
 
 t8» 
 
 THB TBXSD BXIDBB. 
 
 There was no sound upon (he earth 
 
 The tAVLir. air was still, 
 The sheep in quiet clusten laj 
 
 Upon the grassy hill 
 
 When, lot » white winged angel 
 
 The watchers stood before. 
 And told how Christ was bom on earth, 
 
 For mortals to adore. 
 He bade the trembling shepherds 
 
 Listen, nor be aJ&aid, 
 And told how in a manger, 
 
 The glorious child was laid. 
 
 2. When aiddenly in the heaTena 
 
 A.p|f>^ar >d an angel-band, 
 (Til© whiie, in reverent wonder, 
 
 The S/rian shepherds stand,) 
 And all the bright host chanted 
 
 Words that shall never cease— 
 "Glory to God in the highest* 
 
 On earth good will and peace!** 
 
 4. The vision in the heavens 
 
 Faded, and all was still, 
 And the wondering shepherds left ^t^eir flocks 
 
 To feed upon the hill. 
 Towards the blessed dlty, 
 
 Quickly their course they held. 
 And, in a lowly staWe, 
 
 Yii^ end Child behald. 
 
"% 
 
 «. 
 
 Beside (in humble manger 
 
 Wai the*Maiden Mother ikild, 
 Aixd in her arms her Son Divine, 
 
 A new-bom Infant^ smiled 
 No ahade of future sorrow 
 
 From Cal vary then was cast ; 
 Only the glory was revealed — 
 
 The suffering was not pass 
 
 The Sastem kings before him kuoit. 
 
 And rarest offerings brought ; 
 The shepherds worshipped and adored 
 
 The wonders God had wrought. 
 They s»w the crown fo^ Israere King, 
 
 The future's giorioua part,; 
 But all these things the Mother kept, 
 
 And pondei^ in her heart 
 
 JSV 
 
 7. Now W4g that Maiden Mother 
 
 The Queen of Heaven call ; 
 And the child we call Our Jesus, 
 
 Saviour, and Judge of All ! 
 But the star that shone in Bethlehem 
 
 Sbines still, and shall not oease^ 
 And we listen still to the tidings 
 
 Of Glory and of Peace f 
 
 
^%. 
 
 IMAGE EVALUATION 
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 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 Corporation 
 
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 23 WCST MAIN STRUT 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716)872-4303 
 
 '4^ 
 

•■>»* 
 
 190" 
 
 TBKTH1B& lOABEB. 
 
 LESSON LXVl. 
 The HuMMiNa Bird. 
 
 Her'jLLD, to go before, to 
 announce. 
 
 JjAT'i-oiudes, regions, cli- 
 mates. 
 
 Moss» a rock plant. 
 
 Spbite^ a spirit 
 
 In'sects, small creepiug 
 
 animals. 
 Gui-A'na, a country in 
 
 Africa. 
 
 TBUM'PET ft:X)W'RB, ' OTIO 
 
 shaped like a bellt 
 
 WITH the advance of spring and the ^rst bright 
 sunny days that herald the approach qf summer 
 in our northern latitudesi the gaiden and the grove 
 becomes alive with a little, gleaming, gkncing sprite* 
 that flits from moss to flower, and from flower to 
 pudding twig, so swiftly^ and yet wiUi such pomp ci 
 
 !^^:/**v;i,:;'Sj»»/^^k^iV^i«f*^Y.O:' ■■'■-^-^■J^L-l ■: 
 
 
 :j&t^£mh^^^M^^iM 
 
ttft InniiMEi-Bti^ 
 
 101 
 
 oeior, that you are willing to b«li6Tfl thit little tisiior 
 " ^<6 gfittraing fragment of a rainbow.*^ 
 
 t, Thnt §n nearly fbnr hundred different kinds of 
 hundning-birda, all of whieb live in Ameriea. Most 
 of t&ebi tOB found in Soutb America, bat the one 
 ydlf M ill the pictnre U very common In the tTnited 
 States. Neaify ill tlorte of bnmming-birdB are very 
 lltett0i^ eo that they have been caled '^itying dia^ 
 niniidii,'^ ^iparie of mby," and "winged gems."* Tet, 
 atthoii^ 10 beaiitifiil to look at^ none of them can 
 ling. It is generaOiy tha case, that Urds which have 
 the brfi^teBt feathers, are the poorest smgers. 
 
 S, Jbstead of singing they make a noise witli their 
 wings, mnch ^e the humming of a top — whence their 
 niiHe. IRiey lay two little white eggs, about the size 
 of a bean, in nests so small, and so blended with the 
 biri! ^of the tree, with its Iscework of leaves and' 
 lichens^ as to seem bat a bad on the bough. The 
 tongoes of these |kretty Mrdb are long tubes, which 
 th^ ean dip into the flower^ and j^k the honey 
 whi«}h they contain. V 
 
 4 The host known kind of the humming-bird is 
 the red-throated winefy, whi«ar ia fipaw tMree to three 
 and one-qnarter inches in length, and fiNvr and one- 
 quarter inches in breadth, from tip to tip of its wings. 
 The thioat 6f the male bird is roby-cokwe^ sMKB^r 
 into deep blaek, aiftd to a fiery crimes^ amd bimdog 
 orange. The female is without this ornament, but 
 the lowef snrfiMse of her body and her tad ari tipped 
 withwhitft. 
 
 ft. The fbod of the liumming-bird consists, ehiefly, 
 ol th# swsets draim Ibai the iower^, thoi^k ha also 
 
 1 
 
 ■I 
 
 
 m 
 
 
lyas 
 
 tn TBSBD VMkDWlU 
 
 eats many kliidt of flies and inseeta. Bk datdly 
 enemy in ^ honible blaek spider, of Guiana which 
 weaves an immense web, nearly as strong as iihxead, 
 snd shaped like a twisted shea The poor bird once 
 saughtin its meshes is lost But he has an idly in 
 the big-headed South Ameriean ant^ whieh huiili the 
 black spider, and kills him without merogr. 
 
 6. A very pleasing feature in the homraiiig-blid is 
 that it will make itself at home in human dwellings. 
 A gentleman had two of them, whieh he fed on 
 honey-dew; he p!aeed them in • room, within cur- 
 tains, which prcTMited them fiK>m da«ihing agai^ the 
 wall, and allowed them to fee<ion flowering-shrubs. 
 
 7. We knew a lady who had a pair of these beautiful 
 little pets, which were so tame that they would lJ5ht 
 on her finger and drink sugar-winter from little tubes 
 which she held betwewi her lips, or pleoed ia a 
 trumpet-flower. It was amusing to see how they 
 would get angiy and tear the iijwer to pieces^ tf U 
 happened to be fiided, or to disp' itthem. 
 
 LESSON LXVII. 
 Tn Lad^vBuid aud tn Airr. 
 
 Ad-just'xd, put in cider. 
 Hauob'tt, proud. 
 
 A-icAz'iDb much aJarmed 
 andsoiprisid. 
 
 I. mHE tiady-bbd sat In the rose's h^ttrt^ 
 X And sttiiied with pride and soom, 
 As she saw a pkin-dressed Ant go by 
 Widi a heavy ipraio of aoiai 
 
 ;;!• 
 
';?'» 
 
 va um-msD^AttD tax mr. ids 
 
 So dM dnw the earteiiw of damask round, 
 . Aiida43u«(ed]i«rgUkeiiyettk 
 Making her glaat of a drop of dew 
 That lay in the roaa'a Inearth 
 
 i Then she Unghed ao lend iSUt the Ant looked up, 
 
 And aeeiiig her haughty ^Me» 
 Took no more notice, but tmyelled on, 
 
 Ai the flame induatripus pace. 
 Bat a sudden Maat <xf autumn came 
 
 And rudely swept the ground. 
 And down the rose, with the Lady-biid bent^ 
 
 And icattned ita leavea aroond. 
 
 9. Then the houaelesB I^dy was much amaaed. 
 
 For ^!ie knew not where to go-^^ 
 And hoaiae NovemWa early Uafli 
 
 Had broughi wiUi it n^ and snow. 
 Her wings were chilled and her feet were cold 
 
 And she wished for ih« Ant^s warm cell; 
 And what she did in the wintry storm, 
 
 I am awe 1 eannot teU. 
 
 
 *i 
 
 *j 
 
 4. Bat tib« oarefol Ant waa in her nsfll^ 
 With her little ones by her aide- 
 She taught them all like herself to tdl, 
 Hot mind the sneir of pride. 
 
 Ai^ £ tiioa^t, as I aat it the ckie <^ day, 
 
 fiiviiiiig my bread and milk, 
 J^mmwkut to work, and improTe my time, 
 
 l^lte bt idte aM diM tli silk 
 
IH 
 
 < ^y l^PDDU) BlBAimL 
 
 
 ItaB BBUMMia-BoT. 
 
 in. 
 DnhBABif^ (rifiknefli. 
 PikBOBto, dikd up. 
 HiBD'srap, want^ snfffdring. 
 Fa-te-ou< we«riiiMi^ be- 
 
 B«9l^4f|M,al^0^ of sol. 
 8cB0i/iJUi. <iiiideiiiak 
 
 s 
 
 OICB fifty yent ngb, Itoe tvlsd In m qtdiil little 
 town» a poor husband and wife, whose only com- 
 fort in f^ovMBty nw tlMnr^om fiici^,«Bd i4i«iift only 
 hope was centred ^ ^m eidy eea Si^ eeon this 
 piety, whidi h«dgBOWii«v«r «Imd^, mmI tyi ^)pe. 
 which had been their pf&p, h«m to moAwgp a vevei t 
 teit ▲ tenrible eioicBeai paod a ^Mk to tbrar kvmble 
 home^ asd «tnuk down hoih Mamt and iK>iie«^ No 
 sooner had ^brit n^ei^kne diMoverad i»li.t «»» die 
 ease was, than they fled» leaiiag 4lie fMior eld oonple 
 to their ihte. In that time <^ trial, tlpe only one 
 who lemained |M|hW ^ %Wi liee Ihek jneuigaon, 
 Frederiok. 
 
 1 He it nm, Ihfnii^ lanl^ lliirteei yiiim old, who 
 raSeed tha enp of water «to Hm gwndild lifi, irho 
 ooole^ tMrhot lpowa,aiid did siaof "d^ieeajiaost 
 beyoD4 ^^6 itrength ^ ^me of hie ege» Hie old 
 oon|^ WHiw «ai(M4 i^teir kaadia^^aiA iee^i ^ damp 
 liilbii r before* JB^ lM#r theii 
 
na sBViqfBt wot. 
 
 m 
 
 spirits* aiade pure bj the weary Biaimeit, into the 
 heiuls of Him who made them. And poorfittieFnd 
 waf left^in the wide weild, alone. 
 
 $, B«l af«n in hiB great diatresi, irhan, an oiphan, 
 wiU^aiit friaiid% wfthont money, h* waa nidriy pnahed 
 ficom doer to door, ha hMl one omnfoit left, and that 
 waa fin the fitith hia good paienta had taken ao mnbh 
 piina to teadu him. Mimy a time, in the IhUing 
 snow, or under the poor ahellw of aome hedge, tnr 
 cattle-shed, he would raise his heart nnd try to pray 
 fervently to the good Qod, who he fbtt wiouid one day 
 send him better cheer. 
 
 4 Kor was it long before thia diange, he had 
 always hoped for, eame. Worn <mt by hardship an^ 
 fatigue^ he at last joined « re^^ent, an drumm«r-boy, 
 and waa aent into » laige town, at aome distance from 
 hia native plaoei The aoldieia of hJa regiment w«re 
 b^etted on, that u, aent to !£*?« with different ^Itena, 
 while they atayed in tbait place, a#l In this way IVmI 
 eame to be pktced in ihe honae of a good OSathollo 
 lady. Thia was tiie beginning of the reward ha ina 
 8Q<m toMoeiva fer hia piety and foodncMi. 
 
 i. In tlua hafpe he waa allowed to join the ftrndly- 
 px^erih which wiat9 said mmf nighty and iSnis the 
 My wna soon aiMe to Judge whast kind tif n boy he 
 waa. She gre^^ to Uke him, frMn ti&tkng how wi»U he 
 alamya b^ved, and uaed to apeijk to Mm hi Ubit 
 Idndaat manMer. One 4ay, when they had been ti&- 
 ing on ihtf a«|]je«ft of rel^n, the lady, »m!^iftMd «t 
 how much he Idiew albeit sncAi nniHitors, n^Eedb&m 
 wheia ha waa bom, and who were his parents. 
 
 •. The wayi of Cbd are tmly wonderM IVonH 
 
 t'^ \ 
 
 *cV^« »; 
 
 ^ H;:t^- . liliri, 
 
IM 
 
 not THmD mum 
 
 iho aniwen whioh Vnd gKf this good lidj» tht 
 found oiil thai ho was no other thta tho mh of her 
 onlj iktor, whom aho had not savn ibr many years, 
 and, in all that Usm, had never heard anythiqg about 
 her, ezeept that ahe waa UtU^^ in the town which 
 Fred liad mentioned. It waa needleaa to apeak of 
 the joy of Wnd*§ good old aont, nor hia own feelings 
 at t^a happy meeting; The old lady at onoe bought 
 him ^off from the army, and aant him to a boarding- 
 Bohool in tin town. 
 
 7. Thate ha ramainad two yeara, atndying Tery 
 hard all the time» after whieh he waa sent to Home, 
 there to prepare for the great object he had long 
 Wiahed for— to be a prieat. He waa giftdd with great 
 talenta, and beaidea, had auch a love ibr hia atodies, 
 that he aoon eame to tie known aa one of the 
 brighteat aeholara in hia elaaa. The g^tlehaea oi 
 manner whieh he had ahown, even in hia diildhood^ 
 did not fonake hfittrnow that he had won honovn 
 for himael^ Aod he waa aa mnflh liked aa ha was 
 re»peeted. 
 
 8. Sight yeara from the tune he left hia good aunt, 
 he i^une baek to. har, aa a prieat of ^ J^rd. One 
 of the Uni thinga he didi, after leaUng fto^ the long 
 journey, waa to aeek that, littla town where he had 
 first aeen the figh^ and thera^ on the altar oc the 
 humble ohureb^ oflbr a Maaa fiir the aoula of iim 
 ihther and mother to whom ha had been ao good a 
 ion,aiid who would have been only too proud w havii 
 leen thak IMeiiok on that happy day. 
 
 i.'bx%^s^^ii^s^is«L^^, 
 
tarn mhwuAUK 
 
 m 
 
 ■i 
 
 LESSON LXIX. 
 Tri MaxMAiiK 
 
 PoiB^m, balanoed. 
 iimfED, thought. 
 Pbos'pscts, hopM tm the 
 
 iutiire. 
 Ds-taoh'bd^ takeil »way 
 
 %oan the rest 
 
 Su-PKR-GILt-OUS^LT, with 
 
 pride, proudly. 
 Dje-bcodid'sd, here means 
 fell down. 
 
 lioB-A]:,,iQ8tmctioD taught 
 GuiiTiA, $4.ee|. 
 
 1. A mj^KMAW, who poised a fbU pail on her 
 A head, 
 
 Thus muMd on her prospecte in life, it i« eaid : 
 "Ui me see-I think th^ this milk will procure 
 One hundred good eiggat, or fourswe, to be aura 
 
 % ^m, tlbi-^top a bit^it must not be forgotten 
 Some of these ^ggs may be broken, and some may 
 faa rotten j ^ 
 
 But if twenty for aocident should be detached 
 awillleave wwjiist sixty sound eggs to be hatehed. 
 
 3.^ Weil, sixty sound eggs^o, wimd dhickena I 
 . ' mean: , 
 
 Wthese some may die^weTl suppose seventeen. 
 ^^1 iwt so i^uKiy-HBay ten, at the most, 
 Whwsh wiU leave ^y chicjkctifl to boil or to roast. 
 
 4 "im ^ thereV their bai%: how muefc will 
 thi^needf 
 
 1^ i^ takeout 0^^ at a time irhMi they 
 
 Jtiacli V- ^ 
 
 (III 
 
 f 
 
 <?3 
 
THBT8IB0 llirH 
 
 So tlii^'8 a m«re trifle. Now, then, let qs 
 
 At ft Uir market price, how miieh money they'll be. 
 
 5. "Six filings a pair — ^five — four — three-and-six, 
 To provent all mistakes, that Ibw p^ce I will fix. 
 Now, what will that make f — ^fifby chickens I said- 
 Fifty times th7ee-and-aixpence-~ril aak bioiher 
 
 Ned. 
 
 6. "Ohybnt stop — ^three-and-six-penee a pair I must 
 
 ■ell 'em; 
 Well, a pair is a oonple — now, then, let ns tell: 'em*. 
 A couple in fifty will go— (my poor braial ) | 
 Why, just a score of times, and five pair will reiliaiD. 
 
 7. "twenty-five pair of fowts-'-antf how tiveeome 
 
 His, . ■ 
 
 That I oaii't reckon up so much money as th^f 
 Well, there's no use in trying, so let's gyve a^piess 
 HI say twenty pounds, and it cannot be less. 
 
 8. " Twenty ponnds, I am certain, wifi^ h*iy ihe a Cow, 
 Thirty geese and two turkeys^ eight pigs and a S6w. 
 MoWj if tlms^ tam out weff at the end c^ ^e year, 
 I shall fill both my pockets wdth guineas, ftis dear." 
 
 0. Foigetting her burden, when this^she h^A said^ 
 Th(»iiaid 8iiperei!!oQidy toned ttp her head ; 
 Whes^ alas for har prosjpeets t hat nu^-pait de- 
 
 aoended, 
 And, 00 all her scLemes for the fiiture were epded. 
 ihiB moral, I think, may be safely attacheid : 
 "Beckon not on your chickens befDse th«: lO'e 
 
 Li-> — 
 
 
 I ll" A'** ••'^•i"'' ^ "lllMllllllllMi 
 
 -/ 
 
 iZJS,M,t3S^^S^(MM 
 
 I'm 
 
•f . wMAHom XAsnmk m jdipik. 
 
 LJISSON LXX. 
 St. Tbmxojb Xiyub or Jjjpis, 
 
 tk'vma, Uxgb country 
 gpivenied by (me man. 
 
 B!lL*TBXii'l-TT, lait end, 
 ibtlieBt part. 
 
 FoiTHi^iBi one who begins 
 any tbinflt 
 
 Doc'TBlirai^ troths psinci 
 
 plea. 
 Tid'ings, newa, report. 
 lflB'A-OT.BB, facta ontof tbe 
 
 common oider. 
 iK'n-DSLB^ iinbelieireni 
 
 JAPiitN*' la a Ux^ empii% in the eaateni' eeitreiBitSf 
 af ittiflk oppodtv CkbuL l€ en ritoa oea - a^raraf 
 Huge idaaii, iha^ ehief of whieh ia Mpfeon; Tbft 
 Qonmlrf ir gomandf by air emperor ani many M^ 
 siav ctti«i% aodia of whom; are called tegft ^ tt» 
 people generally av» pi^gaaa^ aiul wenh^ iUlw Godr, 
 ifWMiliainip m- vwy^ d^gnKUng kind af rellgitML They 
 ]bm# ^eiy Httla of the traa Go^ 
 
 Jl lmiitm>vdMi» of libe filleenAk amdaiy, Btlhaieitr 
 Xaalbr ^iaited Japattm order io-maitelknimitiib Hke 
 pw if ja tbatralfa at our holy fti^, and br^ i^ift «o> 
 th#«ni»Qiid. Thi» hafy anat waa< one ef Hke 
 at Saini ]|[B««iai| the iltmStor af «e 
 glial, feail^af Jaaoa. Ba bamadf in^lft a dlH^ «»^ 
 da«aart> tha^ paaa pac^ ol JiqpBi C^^riaf «)[y «^^ 
 thing dear to him at home, he aat out little Eait^/ 
 iMkaeiMd othmr holy piiaaH^hoaaaaidlMld^lIke 
 hilo«Mib^ ■>■■'- ' 
 il Jiiliatt aailed ftnr Cihia^ and^ Hfl^ ali^yii%^tiiii» 
 4fa aiaai aaair ii- iJiiiii. ' ^ a^.ii#'iii*^ 
 
 
 ■J 
 
 v» 
 
 _ 1 
 
 rj fe.1^ 
 
fn imBD BlADlfci 
 
 bug there, when he had the pleasure of seeing 
 mtiiy and importent oonvenioiis. God, who led him 
 and his brother priests to that distant land, in a 
 special manner fayored their labors. It happened, 
 alter thej were about six months there, that a young 
 girl died in the flower of her age. Her father, who 
 . loved her Tory tenderly, was almost ready to die of 
 griel Daring her sickness, he had made many offer- 
 ings to the fiUse gods for her, but all in vain; and 
 now, that she was dead, he could not be consoled. 
 
 4 Among, others who went to visit him, were two 
 men who had been concerted to the Ghnstia|i faith 
 by the preaching of the piiesta They told l&e un- 
 happy filler about St. Francis; spoke of his great 
 holiness, of the beantiAil doctrines he taught, and 
 advised lum to go to the Saint for relief. He did so, 
 and promised Xavier, not only great rewards, but, 
 also, that he would become a Cfhristian. 
 
 5. St Frands, moved by the intense grief of the 
 poor man, retired a few moments with Father Fer- 
 nandes; and, kneeling together, they prayed that 
 Qod would bring back to life the dead giri. They 
 thea returned, and Si Francis said to the. father, 
 "Oo, now; your daughter is restored to life." The 
 man, not believing in the ttaih of the glad news, 
 hastened towards home, and was met on the way by 
 his servants, vnth the joyfhl tidings that |u8 daughter 
 was again alive. - ' 
 
 ^ Tbib &ther, alter tenderly embracing her, asked 
 her how it was that she had been brought baek to 
 life. She answfxred, ^at after her deiuth she was 
 seiasd 1^ two Udeoqaapirito, who wvie dai§gpng;het 
 
 
mt, iBAVcni ZATin nr jAfiv, 
 
 Wl 
 
 jff to throw bor into a lake of flra^ when tiiagr were 
 met bj two holy meo, who drove &w»y the epirite, 
 end, taking hei kindlj by the hand, restored her to 
 life end heelth. Thb fiitber then took her to Si 
 FrenoiB end hie oompanion, and, the moment she 
 saw them, ahe declared them to be the men who had 
 restored her to life. 
 
 7* Both the ikther and daughter then threw them- 
 selves at the feet of Xavier, and begged to be tanght 
 the OhristiaD finth. This miraele led to the oonver- 
 ■ion of an immense number of the people^ and spread 
 the lame of St Francis over the whole oonntrj. IT'e 
 Saint spent seveial years longer in visiting varioas 
 parts of Japan, and preaching, bat his labors were 
 now drawing to an end. Towards the dose of the 
 year 1552, he sailed in a vessel tb Sancian, a small 
 barren island on the coast of Ohinai Daring the 
 voyage he wrought several miracles. 
 
 8. Having come to Saucian, he was seiied with a 
 violent fev«r, which soon reduced him to the last 
 extremity. He fiwesaw that his last moments were 
 at hand, and told his attendanta he should die cm 
 the Sd of December. He lingered until that day, 
 and calmly azpked, in the 46th year of his age. 
 St. Francis has been, with mujch reason, called the 
 '* Apostle of the Indiea." 
 
 9. It is said that he baptiaed with his own hand no 
 less than a millitm of infidela. From the moment oi 
 his convt^rsion to piety, it would seem as if he had 
 vowed to give his whole thought to the work of bring- 
 ing in souls to Qod—- in acknowledgoient (tf whidi the 
 C3iu)peii ranks him aa one ef her greatest 
 
 m 
 
 ■«ta 
 
 m 
 
 i^^^i^^M^^^Mi^ 
 
urn 
 
 itUE tBtBi> llBAI^S. 
 
 LESSON IrXXI. 
 
 JEVENINQ Song. 
 
 Shades, darkness, shad- 1 Ten'anto, ilioae who in- 
 *^^ ' habit, cr Iw ia. 
 
 VAL'LBY^Jowplaoe between 
 
 inouataiiis. 
 
 Balm't, fresh. BweetHBn^- . Haumt'ed, foUowed by. 
 
 ^' ^GAP'isvft a prisoner 
 
 Moubh'er, one who 
 mouma 
 
 t. CJOFTLY fall the shades of evening, 
 fO O'er the valley, hushed and stil{ 
 As the sun's last r^s ard falling, 
 From the distant western hilt 
 Balmy mists have lulled to slumber 
 
 Weary tenants of the tree; 
 Btnw, in "brigiit and i^orious number, 
 ^Iwrkle on the waveleaa aeik 
 
Mnmam aeirci 
 
 t Softly &n ilM Omdm oi ereBiog 
 On iiie boflom of ihe deep^ 
 Winds, in jjmih, whrnj^eriDg muttMb 
 
 Woo the iweet wild flow6f8 to rieejn 
 Far on high the moon «8cending, 
 , Shed* on «U her peaoefoi beann^ 
 From her dlyeiy throne she emileth- 
 
 Smileth on a world of dreamt. 
 
 i 
 
 lllli 
 
 The HouB of Pbatib. 
 
 » Cfhild, amidst the flowew at play. 
 While the red Kght fedes away ;' 
 Mother, with thine earnest eye 
 Bret following silently: 
 
 Father, by the hfeeae of ete 
 Caiii* % hamst work to leave; 
 I^y, ere yet the dark houre be, ' 
 Lift the heart and bend the kneei 
 
 4 TraT^r, in the Blxmgei>B limd, 
 t» fym tMne own honsehold fHouf 
 Ifettfnev, haunted by the tone 
 Of a Toioe ftom this world gone; 
 **^^ ftl Irhose narrow cell 
 
 Sunshine hath not leave to dwell ; 
 fciiMP, on the darkening sea, 
 
 I*<i thfl^ Meaft «ttd bend the knee r 
 
 If. W^wte, tha* Iroiii battle wti^. 
 Jg H i f ^ < i new, a» ee» of gm i 
 
mif 
 
 tBM TEOBD RKADMl 
 
 Woman, o*«r the lowly slain, 
 Weeping on his burial-plain; 
 Te that triumph, ye that aigh. 
 Kindred by one holy tie^ 
 Heaven's first star alike ye Bee^ 
 lift the heart and bend the kneel 
 
 children 
 had laml 
 the littl 
 to pay 
 illness. 
 
 »>• 
 
 LESSON LXXII. 
 The Pkt Lamb. 
 
 Butoh'ib, a man who kills 
 animals for food. 
 
 Qbiey'^d, was sorry. 
 
 Fbisk'ing, playing, sport- 
 ing* 
 
 Mead'ows, smooth, green 
 
 fields. 
 Nbioh'bob» one who lives 
 
 near. 
 Sob'bows^ grie&, troubles. 
 
 IT was a sad day in the home of poor Jane Brown 
 .when the batcher came and took away the pretty 
 pet lamb, which her little boy and girl loved so much. 
 And the mother herself grieved as much as the chil- 
 dren, fonr she knew the lamb was going to be killed, 
 and that she should never again ses it frisking in the 
 green meadows, or plajing with b«r liMU Ellen before 
 the door. 
 
 S. It was sad to part with tha lamb ; bat the poor 
 mother had no money to bay bread lor her diildren. 
 Every thing else had been sold, and at last the dear 
 little pet lamb had to be sold» or they must all die of 
 hunger. A little while before^ Jane Brown and her^ 
 
 
 «. Ml 
 dren wfli 
 
 diilttjf4 
 
 she e|t|l< 
 
TUJC JfJST JLAMll, 
 
 2U5 
 
 d^ildren Baaplenty to eat and drink — ^and then they 
 had lambs, and sheep, and cows; but the finther of 
 the little ones was sick a long time, and all was sold 
 to pay the doctor^ and get nice things for him in hia 
 illness. 
 
 8. At last the sick man die6, and his wife and ohil' 
 dren wiiN very poor. The mobher worked hard/ and 
 didt8]f'<tiie oonld to give her boy and girl food; bl^ 
 she^mld not always get work, and then there wai 
 in the house—and little EUen and James erted 
 
TBI THIBD imcDKR. 
 
 waA Ml Twy sad, thiiiking of the good idnrsB iShe^ 
 «sedto'liave when their dear £fttherwBBi with them. 
 ^B«t ^teir inoiher taught t&em to pray to Qod, and 
 «t#ld4heiii ^ «woitld send them bread. 
 
 4 One day, when neither mother nor ehildren lia^ 
 had any thing to eat for many hours, the poor womai 
 was forced to go to the batcher, and ask him to come 
 and buy I!llen'« lamb* &rehe could iBU>t bear to hear 
 the little ones ta^fii^ with huiyper. The butcher 
 came, and boni^ the lamb awiii in :;fee picture, he 
 IB taking it awi|y. Jamaiaod SBen ^ve^cvyii^ and 
 sobbing, tiie poor mother hmmS ^ttkima^ mi, and 
 the kunb la ti^r^lg lo hxk Mk ^ 'iiiB liitla play- 
 mateik • ■ ■*- , 
 
 6. ]iM|i the bawdier lo(te Mir Ifiiiiinaoriy to 
 take telaot^, Isr he baa drawn iiia :ii«k down orer 
 his e|i% ^«a if ko bide ^ibe ^tMOii ^tet 4na in them. 
 Ah I liM marcmm Hbm poor hvia ilo tair*^vai^ the 
 childaiBkl Kqw littia thaiich hmm^^HNmik things; 
 if thegr iii|,^Miey would try to doaMMifv Jhe poor 
 than ihigr^alo. if soma j[iih^)B«jyhfaarMl||^n Jane 
 Brown 4k Ettle tha|p, or g«l moik Jorter ^ do, ahe 
 need Mi lii^iaQld % j!M% ^ ^aa%iMlr«^^bildriii'ii 
 foup-footad friand* 
 
 8. But %edaiVMiiha lidi »a^ii%lirpy, and Imtc 
 eveiy thing thegr want themielvefl^ Ira^ often they do 
 not think of 1k>w much the poor hare to suffer. If 
 amaaiof thaia tho^ghtleM people ifaad fbecttii^^ken 
 poor JUanAi pt& lamb was being takm i«Wiiy» HHy 
 wnold JMwe fait a ah a m ed ttiat, .manQNt Imkc, Sm^ 
 ipand4«ank4iaaliaa|y, tthan would Imw» baea^iiingh 
 to n p ^iOtW ipoor fanil^r baiPf; 
 
A Wyr ITBO TOM) A ME. 
 
 m 
 
 LESSON LXXIII. 
 
 A. BOT WHO TOLD ▲ IjX. 
 
 Sbbu'sd, fippeared. 
 
 AF^HcrTION-ATB, loving. 
 
 Pen'i-tbnt, ioiiy fordoing 
 wrongi 
 
 1. rpHE mother looked pale, and her face was sad; 
 X She seemed to have nothing to make her glad; 
 43]ie mhniiiy sat, with the tmr ia her^i^e^ 
 for her dear UUle bogr» who hiwl tbid mlk^ 
 
 1 He WM m gentle afieetionate ehild^ 
 His wajB were winning, his temper waa mild; 
 JChere was love and joy in his soft blue eye^ 
 $i«b the dear little hoy had told • liab 
 
 t, Ha atoed alone^by the window ^nrilhiB, 
 
 forhA felt that Jiis soul was stained with ain, 
 ;4iidhia mother «ould hearthim sob and ery« 
 Because bd had told her that wi<d^ Hi 
 
 1 3%en he eameiand stood by IiIb moMiar'attii^, 
 <imd asked fiuraikisa— which she deiM^ ^ 
 ^While he^promised, with many a penitent <i%bi 
 Thai ha noffsar wodd tail imotherHai 
 
 ft. Aa^diaJbaia him liefore h«r kneil gantfy dowft, 
 Jiid»taok his soft hands wi^in her own ; 
 ^4aKl she kissed hb ehe^, as he looked on high. 
 ^Aad^ragradilo be pardoned for telMo^lhaillli 
 
 III! 
 
 mii\(i 
 
 ^m 
 
4f ilfW %," ; 1. i-^^l'SfTi'^. 
 
 m 
 
 tarn tasBD bmuhsb. 
 
 LESSON LXXIV. 
 Kindness and Poutbniss at Hoke. 
 
 Po-LiT< agreeaUie, oblig- 
 ing. - 
 
 PfiO-FANS", bad, wicked 
 MEic'cHEtT, the thought of 
 ihe past 
 
 QBBjBf INOS, words laid 
 
 when people meet. 
 Cun'nino, sly, deceitful 
 Dbudo^B-bt, haid, dirty 
 work. 
 
 ABOVE all things, we should be kind an4 polite 
 at home. Think how many an old man suffers 
 bitterly when he remembers his unkindhess ta the 
 dear ones, who are, perhaps, long sinoe in the grave. 
 An angry wor4, that brought a sigh from his mother ; 
 an evening's absence, without consent, that made 
 sad his fiithei's heart; a profane word^ that brought 
 shame to his sister's cheek; a rude push» that sent 
 his little brother away sobbing in seerot, till the 
 tender heart was bursting with grief :«~a]l these rush 
 up before the old man'a mind, and h« weeps vain 
 salt tears of sorrow. 
 
 2. Tis but a few yean, at most, that ire spend 
 together in the fiunily ; parents, and, perhaps, broth- 
 ers and sisten, pass to a better life; and we go fi^ 
 alone into the world. How sweei nay, we make the 
 memoiy of those home daye— <Nr how blltnri A 
 cheerful good morning, as we meet on a new 4ay, 
 will give pleasure to all The k&id words and gentle 
 actions of the moming, are pleasant msnlori^s for 
 the day. Those Mi home will wait with joyfo the 
 night&ll; tlMi absent ones will often think of the 
 
XOIDNISS iND POUTBNBSS AT HOKB. 
 
 209 
 
 greefcingB of the eyeniog, when they shall return from 
 toil ; and theee ihonghtB will make many a trouble 
 glide smoothly by. 
 
 8. Around them, perhaps, are wicked men, hard 
 work, and'lliey are tired and sick of all their labors ; 
 but at home all is neat and cheerful — ^no cross faces, 
 no short answers, no cunning cheats, no dirt and 
 drudgery. Suddenly they cry out from the depths 
 of their troubled hearts, ''This world is not so bad 
 as we feared ; there is still a paradise at home ; this 
 day will soon be over, and we shall .find rest, and 
 peace, and comfort, and a kind welcome from loving 
 hearts. Oh I it is well to have a home, a happy, 
 cheerful home to go to after the toils and troubles of 
 the day!" - 
 
 ,4. Be kind to each other I 
 
 The night's coming on, 
 When friend and when brother. 
 
 Perchance, may be gone I 
 Then, midst our dejection, 
 
 How sweet to have earned, 
 The blest recollection 
 
 Of kindness — retfMrnedi 
 
 6. When day hath departed* 
 And memory keeps 
 'ELer wateh, broken-hearted, 
 - Where all she loved tleepst 
 liet fidiahood assail not» 
 
 Nor envy disprove ; 
 Let trifles prevail not 
 Against those ypu love. 
 
 M 
 
 
h 
 
 %hA TEB raOKD BlADia 
 
 ^ Nor obftDgt irilh to-moRow, 
 
 SkouUl ftntiHie tak« irim$. 
 But the deeper ike sorrow^ 
 
 The eloeer e(iU clsog. 
 Oil 1 be kind io eeoh other. 
 
 The night's eoming on, 
 When friend and when brother, 
 
 JFerohanoe, may be gone I 
 
 kl'A » 
 
 LBSSON LXXV. 
 
 Thb Txlesoopv. 
 
 VmUEhmsofn, m instrmneiit 
 
 for looking ai distant 
 
 eljeetsi 
 A^-tbon'o-mt, the siieiioe 
 
 which teaekfll ef the 
 
 stand. 
 In-vbn'tion, making seme" 
 
 thing before onkBowik 
 
 iN'sTRU'Mttrt, that by 
 which anything is ef- 
 Iseted 
 
 Bo'jDiBi, name sometimes 
 giten to the stars. 
 
 Ym'i'&M, that may be 
 
 Sx-Aii'Bl-iiro, looking inta 
 
 T 
 
 HERE is a Teiy beautiful scienoe, called astron- 
 omy, wliieh teaches us the names of the stars 
 their motions and dieiaiieee from the eatth, and all 
 about those bright bodies^ which seaie one has called 
 the "Poetry of Efl«?eii.'^ The greaitei^ seivioe that 
 was ever rendevad t» tiM loTsrs of iUe Scienoe, was 
 the invention of the telesSflpe^ Us aame shows what 
 are its uses, as it oomes from two Ovsek #ord8, mean- 
 ing to see ai a distance; It wai M« inMhited l»y a 
 native of Italy, in the year 160a 
 
THB TELISCOP& 
 
 Ul 
 
 % Up to that time, of course, people wh* wsre 
 fond of gazing at the stars had to gaze at them with ^ 
 the naked eye, or else through instruments which 
 were not much better. The ^t people whom we 
 read of as taking notice of the stars were shepherds, 
 who, while feeding their flocks, on the open plains, 
 had plenty of time for gazing on the heavenly bodies 
 above. But, of course, they could see them only at 
 an immense distance, and hence very little was known 
 of their true nature, and the order in which they wer» 
 arranged in the heavens. 
 
 8. The telescope enabled men to find out all this, 
 lUid a great deal more, never dreamt of before its 
 invention. Not only were astronomers now able to 
 bring the stan^, which are commonly to be seen in 
 the sky, a great deal closer to their eyes, but they 
 were able to see stars not visible at all to the naked 
 sight. 'Hie reason why the telescope he^s us to see 
 objects so much more plainly is, flrstfy, because it 
 tnakes the object seem a great many times ktirger 
 than it appears to the naked eye; and, solscnidfy, by 
 poUecting a large* bettm of light than eould eader the 
 
 • mm 
 
 m 
 
 'i\ 
 
 i 
 
 m 
 
 mifm 
 
rf%i 
 
 sit 
 
 TBI TBIBD ft^A^WE, 
 
 naked ijfe, tad thus making objeeli TiBiUe whidi 
 before ooold not be seen at alL 
 
 4. The telescope ia formed of aeTeral tnbe% one 
 fitting within the other. At one end ia placed the 
 objeot-glaM, ^od at the other an eje-glaaa. The 
 former of these aerfea to g»ther the beama of light 
 into a pointi and form an image of the ol|jeat; the 
 eye-|^aiB aerrea to inereaae ita tiia 
 
 5. One of the great nsea of the teleaeope ia at sea, 
 when a ship ean be aeen by it long belhre it can be 
 made oat by the naked eye; a]ao,iii the army^it i» 
 mnch nsed iar examining the enemy's worke from a 
 distaaoe. Ha nasa ava ao many as to make it one of 
 iihe beat infuitions of man's brain. 
 
 i#*^ 
 
 LESSON LXXVl 
 Little bt LmLt. 
 
 Herd, a number of beasts 
 altogether, aa a herd of 
 . deer. 
 
 VwB^nu^, Plain, gronnd 
 en which grain grows 
 plentifully. 
 
 1. TITHILB thenewyeaia come and tht eld yearn 
 
 How, littla by Mttle, afl 13i!ngs growl 
 
 AH things grow, and all decay—- 
 
 litUe by little passing away. 
 
 LitUe by little, on fertile plain, 
 
 Bipen the 1m^^ ^ golden gnd% ; 
 
urrui n unUL pip 
 
 WftTing tad flaahing in the niii, 
 Whtti the aummer «l Uwt ia donak 
 
 2. Low on ^ ground an aoom liet— 
 littla by litUa it monnta the skies, 
 Shadow and ahelter for wandenng herda, 
 Home for a hundred singing birds. 
 Littla by little the great rooks grew. 
 Long, long ag6, when the world was new. 
 Slowly and silently, atately and free, 
 Citiea of coral under the sea^ 
 Little by little are bnilded-^while so 
 The new yean oome and the old years go. 
 
 Little by Uttle all tasks are done-* 
 
 So are the crowns of the &ithful woa 
 
 So is Heaven in our heajta begun. 
 
 With woik and with weeping, with laughter and 
 
 Little by little the longest day 
 
 And the longest life are passing away — 
 
 Passing without return— while so 
 
 The new years come and the old years ga 
 
w 
 
 tl4 
 
 TBB THIRD ftIADK& 
 
 LESSON LXXVII. 
 Thi Amobl and thb FLowmik 
 
 LifoiND, old tale, story. 
 
 En-dow'id, given. 
 
 Oho 'bus, a nomber of 
 ▼oioes singing together. 
 
 PAN'sTyBuT'TSBrOUP, kinds 
 of flowen. 
 
 Frag^'mentb, pieces, bro- 
 ken part^ 
 
 Pen'b-trate, enter^ piercv 
 into. 
 
 Ben'e-fit, good cfrw(.g 
 from any thtt)^. 
 
 Nosb'gat, bunch of flow- 
 ers. 
 
 tN'Fi-NiTE, endless. ^^- 
 ont bounds. 
 
 THET have a beAtiiifbl legend in some of the 
 northern eourLries of Europe, whioh we think 
 you will all like very mtidh. It is as follows : When- 
 ever a good child dies an angel from Heayon oomes 
 down to earth and takes the dead child in his ttrms, 
 and flies away over all the places the child has loved, 
 and picks quite a handful of flowers, which he €ame<^ 
 up to the Almighty, that they may Hfxrm in HeaveL 
 more brightly than npon earth. 
 
 2. And the Father presses all ^^^i^ flowers to His 
 heart ; but he kiss^^ the flower that pleases Him 
 best, and the flower is then endowed with a toIm 
 .%nC can join in a great chorus of praise I "See;"'— 
 ^m is vhat Jin angel said, as he carried a dead child 
 ixp to Heaven, and the child heard, as if in a dream. 
 And they went on over the regions of home, where 
 the little child had played, and came through gardens 
 
 '5 
 
 ^tk 
 8. 
 
 so atmi 
 
 JUKI 
 
 iiltlai 
 «f4he' 
 
 pwwy, 
 
 w«rii?tQ 
 
 Aadtbei 
 pot,«ad'1 
 
 5. "Do 
 
 hadnein 
 could 4o, 
 tMies»i«n 
 
 (eix>«a#«f 
 
1 f 
 
 "« « »opJ«» in wj'^ '•^ *•« ''« '«k. 
 ft Now, there atood natr (ii<i» i . 
 
 •«»V*loeBinp yomier" Take it, th«t it 
 
 l>^«dl the de.pi.ed bltS^^;!** *^ '^ '^•'■ 
 
 * »e «i«d nedded, hut h. wmTT 
 »«y «»»fari fa tfc;*-^. "f*' •»<» q«Jte ..lent. 
 
 *•*»* tsgethw by the «»«.^ " °"^ ""* 
 
 «<">«. -We will LTih7t^*V^ <Wed.fleld- 
 
 waen the poovbcv mtt then, 
 
 't;-! 
 
 ■J, .. 
 
Sid 
 
 THB THIRD BBADBB. 
 
 and looked at the red blood, in his thin fingen, as he 
 held them up to the lights he would say, ' Tee; to-day 
 he has been out' 
 
 6. " On a spring-day a neighbor's boy brought him 
 some field flowers, and among them was, by chance, 
 one to which the root was still hanging; and, so it 
 was planted in a flower-pot, and placed loj the bed, 
 dose to the window. The flower had been planted 
 by a skilllul hand; and it grew, threw out new shoots, 
 and boi-e flowers vwery year. It became a splendid 
 flower-garden to the sick boy — ^his little treasure here 
 on earth. 
 
 7. "He watered it^ and tended it, and took care that 
 it had the benefit of every ray of sunlight, and the 
 flower itself was woven into his dreams, for it grew 
 for him» and gladdened his eyes, and sproad its fra- 
 grance about him ; and towards it he turned in death, 
 when the Father called him. He has now been dead 
 a year. For a year the flower stood forgotten and 
 withered in the window, and at moving-time it was 
 thrown out into the street. And this is the poor 
 flower which we have taken into our nosegay ; for it 
 has given more joy than the richest in a queen's 
 garden/* 
 
 8. "But how do you know all this?" asked the 
 child. 
 
 "I know it^** said the angel, "for I, myself was 
 that boy who walked on crutches I I know my flow- 
 ers well.** 
 
 And the child opened his eyes and looked into the 
 glorious, happy fiuse of the »igel; and, at the same 
 moment^ they antersd the regions where there is 
 
THE BEQOARlUn. 
 
 217 
 
 peace «nd joy. The Father pressed the dead child 
 to His bosom, and then it received wings like the 
 angel, and flew hand in hand with him. 
 
 9. And the Almighty kissed the dry, withered field- 
 flower, and it received a voice, and sang with the 
 angels hovering around— some near, and some in 
 wider circles, and some in infinite distance, but all 
 equally happy. And they all sang, little and great — 
 the good, happy child, and the poor field-flower that 
 had lain there withered, thrown among the dust, in 
 the rubbish of tiio moving-day, in the dark, narrow 
 lant. > 
 
 •♦•♦- 
 
 LISBON LXXVIII. 
 
 Tbb Bjegoarman. 
 
 Owin'dlbd/ grown small, 
 
 short 
 Tat'teb-ed, ragged. 
 Hoa'rt, gray with age. 
 Chan'nel, what a stream 
 
 flows in. 
 Ab'pect, appearanoe^ 
 
 RES^-DSHCnE, place of 
 
 abode. 
 Qband'eub, greatness. 
 In-firm', weak, sickly. 
 Pah >SB-ED, well fed. 
 Me'ni-al, a servant. 
 Rb-prest', put down. 
 
 t. T)ITT the sorrowa of a poor dd man, 
 
 X Whose trembling limba have borne him to 
 
 your door, 
 Whose days are dwindled to the shortest space — 
 Oh! give relief, and Heaven will Uesi your 
 stores 
 
 
 I!] 
 
 
 ;H!;it 
 
 rn'M 
 
 '"\ ,. 
 
 ■iliil! 
 
 m 
 
 
 * iu;i! til 
 ■ I'll 
 
 l>|i iil;J 
 
218 
 
 TBB THIRD EEADER. 
 
 2. These tattered clothes my poverty bespeak. 
 
 These hoary locks proclaim my lengthened yeara^ 
 Aud many a iiirrow in my grief- worn cheek 
 Has been the channel to a stream of teara 
 
 S Yon house, erected on the rising ground, 
 
 With tempting aspect, drew me from my rotnl, 
 For Plenty there a residence has found, 
 And Qrandeur a most fair and proud abode. 
 
rotml. 
 
 fBl MBOOARMAK. 
 
 4. (Hard is the ftie of the infirm and poor Q 
 
 fitre, graying for a morsel of their bread, 
 A pampered menial drove me from the door. 
 To tedc a shelter in an humble shed. , 
 
 5. Oh I take me to your kindly, warm abode; 
 
 Keen blows the wind, and piercing is the cold] 
 Short is my passage to the friendly tomb, 
 For I am poor, and lone, and weak, and old. 
 
 6. Should I reveal the source of every grief, 
 
 If soft compassion ever touched your breast. 
 Tour hands would not withhold the kind relief. 
 And tears of pity could not be represt. 
 
 7. HeaTen sends misfortunes — why should we re- 
 
 pine? 
 I^s Heaven has brought me to the state you see; 
 And your oondition may be soon like mine— - 
 The chUd of sorrow and of misery. 
 
 8. A little farm was my paternal lot, 
 
 Th«n like the lark, I sprightly hailed the mom; 
 But ah 1 oppressioh foroed me from my cot — 
 My cattle died, and blighted was my corn. 
 
 B. My daughter, oaiee the comfimk of my a^ 
 liured by a villain from her native homei, 
 Is oastk abandoned, on the world's wild stsge. 
 And doomed in scanty poverty to roaitiu 
 
 10. My tender wife, sweet soother of my oare 
 Btruck with sad anguish at the stern decree, 
 Fell, Ungering fell, a victim to despair, 
 And left the wrirld to wretchedness and me. 
 
 
 1,1' :%\ 
 
 m 
 til? 
 
 m 
 
 \m ' 
 
 \['' 
 
 •\m 
 
 m 
 
 
 m 
 
 . I 
 
 ! 11 
 
 II ■' 
 
 
ftj '»<-« 7»- 
 
 220 
 
 THXTHIBD BKADML 
 
 11. Pity tbe sorrows of a poor old man. 
 
 Whose trembling limbs have borne him to yout 
 door, 
 Whose dfkyB are dwindled to the shortest span — 
 Oh 1 give relief, and Heaven will bless yovr 
 store. 
 
 •>» 
 
 liESSON LXXIX. 
 
 Thb Elephant. 
 
 I'vo-BT, a hard, white sub- 
 stance. 
 
 E-long-a'tbo, stretched 
 out, made long. 
 
 Flex'i-bli; easily moved 
 or bent. 
 
 Pro-jbc/tion, something 
 sticking out. 
 
 N^os'tbils, divisions of the 
 nose. 
 
 SucyTiON, drawing up. - 
 
 Bulbs, roots of a round 
 form. 
 
 Tbacts, spaces, portions. 
 
 TfoEB, fierce wild beast 
 found in India. 
 
 Tam'ed, macd mild or do- 
 cile. 
 
 Ten'der-ness., mildness. 
 
 Dis-OHABQE', fling. 
 
 ONE of the noblest as well as largest of animals w 
 the elephant. It is an inhabitant of India and 
 Africa, and differs, in some ways, in each of these 
 countries. One of the chief differences between the 
 Indian and the African elephant, is that the female 
 of the latter kind, as well as the male, is provided 
 with tusks. These tusks, by the way, or immense 
 teeth» placed at each side of the animal's mouth, are 
 one of its chief marks, and, being of ivoiy* aro worth 
 
D. — 
 
 yomr 
 
 THE ELEPHANT. 
 
 221 
 
 a great deal of money. The elephant is often hnnted 
 for the sake of them. 
 
 ip.^ 
 round 
 
 [tipns. 
 beast 
 
 or do 
 
 Iness. 
 
 imals V 
 lift and 
 these 
 )n the 
 female 
 irovided 
 lense 
 
 ith, we 
 worth 
 
 2. Another very odd-looking feature &hovi.if the ele« 
 phant, is the great elongated nose or trunk, which 
 hangs down between his tuska His neck is so short 
 that he could not reach his food or drink, without 
 this long trunk, which is certainly a wonderful organ. 
 It is so flexible that the elephant can use it like a 
 hand; on the end of it is a small finger-like projec- 
 |tion, which serves for feeling, and also for picking up 
 [small objects. 
 
 3. With his trunk the elephant gathers his food 
 jand puts it into his mouth. Hei also drinkft through 
 [his trunk, by drawing up the water into its two nos- 
 Itrils, and turning the end into his mouth, pouring 
 
 in the water. Sometimes, too, he gives himself a 
 ^hower-bath by filling his trunk, and then throwimir 
 
 1 
 
 i';'. ■ ■ 
 
 Hli !I1M 
 
 .iV» 
 
 III:! 
 
 !; -. 
 
 ^M 
 
 i 
 
 11 
 
 
 
«B 
 
 THK TBHID BXOnOL 
 
 ihb wiUap tnm it ever hi* body. Tbrongh tke^tnak, 
 moreover, he sends forth his irump6t4Ul» ▼•one; This 
 oigan is not only » hand, a forcing and suction pump, 
 and a trumpet^ but it ia also the aaimi^ aoM. He 
 c&n shoften, lengthen, or coil fk Wj^uHwfSk 
 
 4. The food of the elgphaajoensiili of the brnic^s, 
 leaves, and roots of treesi tmi tim of m variety of 
 bulbs, which, when buried in tfifr enHpi ht mtk detect 
 by h\^ very fine sense of tmiM. ISb* c^ H&ma iq» he 
 uses his tusks, and it is said tlUit wIbg& «n» ■ni^ be 
 seen thus ploughed up. Whea He fa«» cosMI i|^ dte 
 bulbs he takes one up, then maMng iMm osi of 1^ 
 trunk nmnd it^ carries it to hi* nnmtik Hb- quantity 
 of food which elephants est must be WKSf gptHkt as 
 W3 are told ^ey pass tibe £^«ater part of ^ ^i^ and 
 night ia leedinig: 
 
 5. The elephant does not confine himself to one 
 place for life, but roamjs over Iwrg^ tracts of ooontry, 
 always seeking the best and freshest spote- in the 
 forests. They go together m large herds,, numbering 
 sometimes hundreds, or even thousands. The Indian 
 elephant has been tamed, and is much* used by the 
 people in travelling, and also in hunting, the tig^r ; 
 but very few of the Alrican elephants have been 
 tamed. When untamed, these animals have such a 
 horror of man, that it is said a child can pui wkde 
 herds to flight merely by passing within their range 
 of smelL 
 
 6. They choose for their dwelling places the most 
 lonely depths of the forests. In dry and wacm weather 
 they visit the streams almost nightly, but in cool 
 weather, only drink once every third or fourth day. 
 
 Thed 
 
 miles 
 
 <mlte4 
 
 much 
 
 it is ac 
 
 Attacks 
 
 fevei^^ 
 
 fcendern 
 
 7. A 
 
 wanderi 
 
 bad com 
 
 were ch« 
 
 the man 
 
 to the o 
 
 near. B 
 
 give up t 
 
 until the 
 
 pardoned 
 
 inderstan 
 
 had embr< 
 
 S- In ai 
 
 oils use, ae 
 
 made to g 
 
 men. Qf 
 
 <^«iigewof 
 by Uttle h 
 {of these th 
 jenemy witi 
 [been fightii 
 reneral, bu< 
 ^ow is oi^y 
 
b: This 
 1 pump, 
 IM. He 
 
 rietf of 
 a detect 
 a B|» he 
 ■Mgrbe 
 glftiiie 
 iof 1b8 
 
 gpEM^ as 
 ^ snd 
 
 f to one 
 Qonntry, 
 h in the 
 Lmbering 
 d Indian 
 L by the 
 io tigpr; 
 ,ye been 
 B such a 
 li^ whole 
 av range 
 
 bhe nosi) 
 
 I weather 
 
 in cool 
 
 iitili day. 
 
 THE jMOBP^i^'^ 
 
 ■»«eh attached to uTkl^^r* f""'*^" '"T 
 »'t»cked; though. TLS V '^*'"«^'°"'i«'' 
 
 "ften showa ifett ,^11 ^"^ " «<>»d. «.d it 
 tendemew ^ '" "^ """* Wndneas and 
 
 --daring o-e day th;o„gh a ^^^ l^T* •'*^'""* 
 had committed a tiieft «m»i.! Z '" ' ""•»• ^^o 
 
 -re ch^ing him.tSerr *eSC/Ti *^ '''° 
 the man's confidence th« „ ki . ^"^^ ^^^ 
 
 oear. Even 1U« keener "m^'' *°^' '"^ ^ «>">« 
 
 «;--p«.ethier.'^rt,rhr^K^-^t„ 
 
 "-<ie»tand what had hapn^i T ""^ **» *» 
 had emh«ced him,rat ^^T^' °'' '''^'' «>• «« 
 
 «i««.oientti;Xrx:jT 
 
 »"» n«e, «i yon will say ifc-n . *'''*°* »* » """ri" 
 
 ;«• Of cou«e. tbei:^"^ ZT '^ T^ 
 *«««. of the battle, ftom ^ 1 '^''"^ *° *• 
 by Uttle houses «,t np*^ 2'"' ^^J'"" Pwtected 
 
 of these they ^.nldSa^S'f'*"'' *^* 
 '•«»y with a g,«rt deaJ m^,<£f ,. ^ »* *« 
 
 ^ fighting on foot. TlT!!?* *^ ^^ *'«' J-«l 
 Sen«al. but,., time njhf t^ '^ *»«» '«y 
 
 * 
 
 I 
 
 I ' m 
 
 1 ; m 
 
 
 'I 
 
224 
 
 m THIRD READSIL 
 
 LESSON LXXX. 
 
 CULDBIN Uf TBK CoUNTttT. 
 
 EIedgb, a row of bushes 
 thickly set together. 
 
 SHEAT38, covers that slip 
 ou. 
 
 El'der, a kind of bush. 
 
 NiiB'BLlMO.biting with very 
 small tetth. 
 
 A-ne'ho-nes, pveity q^ring 
 
 floweia 
 Wood'land, forest. 
 Mould'er-iko, crambling 
 
 away. 
 An'cient, old. 
 Qloom't, dark. 
 
 ■a 
 
 1. TITB! had a pleasant walk to-day, 
 
 f f OTer the meadows and far away. 
 Across the bridge by the water-mil^ 
 By the wood-side, and np the hill; 
 And if yon listen to what I say, 
 rU tell you what I saw to-day. 
 
 * • 
 
 2. Amid a hedge, where the first leaves 
 
 Were peeping from their sheaths so aly. 
 We saw four eggs within a nest^ 
 
 And they were blue as a summer sky. 
 An elder-branch dipped in the brook — 
 
 We wondered why it moTed, and ibund 
 ▲ silken-haired, smooth water-rat 
 
 Nibbling, and swimming round and round 
 
 • ■ 
 
 8. Where daisies opened to the sna, 
 
 In a broad meadow, green and white^ 
 
 The lambs were racing eagerly— 
 
 W« Aever aawa pmettier atsiii 
 
 4. An 
 
 i 
 
 Wefo 
 
 T 
 

 land 
 
 CHILDREN IN THE COUNTBT. 
 
 We saw upon the shady banks. 
 Long rows of golden flowera shines 
 
 And first mistook for buttercups* 
 The staiHshaped yellow celandinft. 
 
 225 
 
 4. Ane'mones and primroses^ 
 
 And the blue violets of spring, 
 
 We found, while listening by a hedge. 
 To hear a merry plbughman sing. 
 
 '-■i'iii 
 
 WJH: 
 
 Km 
 
 lH 
 
 
 .:[,., 
 
 J. 
 
 ' '{III 
 
 m 
 
 . i -ill 
 
 '111 
 
 
 . 
 
 
 ii 
 
ffBt TBISD BEA0iE 
 
 And from Hm eartlk the {dough tuniBd Qp 
 Th«re eame a iweet> refiroiAiDg tmeU* 
 
 Suoh as the Uly of the via« 
 Senda forth from many a woodland delL 
 
 5. We saw the yellow wall-flowers wave 
 
 Upon a mouldering castle wall ; 
 And then we watehed the haaj Tonkn 
 
 Amei^^ the iWBieBl ehn keei tall. 
 And, iBii&liaig from the eld •tone bridge^ 
 
 Bebw we saw our iidiiMlowi Use, i 
 And, ^te«|§^ ^b» gloomy aM^e% wat^M 
 
 ^i swift itfid liMlElefls swiUbws fly. 
 
 
 SEA.'S(Mf,ilie<hiM. 
 Ju-Dis'iL, a flttoull oouAtty ki 
 
 Asia. 
 Scbif't^bv, &fy Wx^Hie 
 
 Bible. 
 MaxTdaUb, i^ eommiaiid. 
 
 list 
 
 Djt4n0m'Awn, ehildren 
 a»d gtiUdchydnin. 
 
 Pbo^cbi^Ih), wtmt on. 
 
 Kti^^ix, ieliii^»iB. 
 
 AiNPfto^fl^ eoiMB near 
 
 PA^im.tif, iHlesiip theii 
 minds !#. 
 
 ik^s&BX ^eerlesa 
 
 AMIDST Uie pleaanfiss and delighti of Gtunstmas 
 our young readers must not foi^get t^at the birth 
 of Our Divine Lord is the true sourpe of tiM the joys 
 of the seasoik: and while ilh&y oelebriie 4hia holy 
 festiTal, they should go In spirit to the plains of 
 
THB UBTH OF OUB LOBA 
 
 S27 
 
 lildren 
 
 on. 
 
 near 
 theix 
 
 Judea, and read over the account of what oecurred 
 at the birth of their In&nt Saviour. 
 
 iL At the time when that great event took plaoe^ 
 the world was at peaoa Cnear Angastne yas ruler 
 over all ; from his imperial palace, at Rome, his 
 power extended over many nations, and so vast was 
 his empire, that, in the words of Scripture, he ordered 
 "the whole world to be enrolled." The Jews heard 
 his mandate, and repaired to the appointed places to 
 be enrolled by the Roman officer. 
 
 8. Saint Joseph and the Blessed Virgin, his spouiaie, 
 set out for Bethlehem, to be enrolled with the de- 
 scendants of the- royal house of David. The year 
 was now far advanced, and the cold chillug blasts ci 
 December greeted them aa they proceeded on their 
 journey. Arrived at the village, they went to the 
 inn, in the hopes (^finding rest and shelter. 
 
 4. But it was in vain that they sought for lodgings, 
 there was no room for them ; in vain did they appeal 
 to the charity of their kinsfolk of the royal house of 
 David; there was no one to give them awelcoma 
 {^either Maiy's youth and beauty, nor the sore need 
 in which she was, could touch the heart of a single 
 mother in Bethlehem. The night approaches, and 
 lifary, the Viigin ever Blessed, with Saint Joseph, 
 stand in the lonely streets, uncertain where to go, not 
 knowing where to find a shelter to protect them from 
 the bittlir cold of that winter night. 
 
 5. At last they leave the town, and, going a short 
 distance, they arrive at a cave which was used as a^ 
 steble. The holy pair enter this dreary abode, and 
 hera resolve to pass the nighi la this lonely fM H ^ 
 
 i 
 
 M 
 
 M 
 
 ,■;>><» 
 
WiUi the night windi howliilig 01 aMftod, with no 
 other company thim th6 bftitots of the fltid, in dl 
 tfttd «D IM^ the Saviotu* of the Hfbfid #itt Mn. itary 
 ptmed Piiin Mdljr td her bosdui, tod, WHip^hg Hiin 
 in 6om« of het own elothing, lidd fiim iii the tfi&ngi^r. 
 
 -bM- 
 
 I1E8SON liXKXII. 
 Trust in Gkn>. 
 
 SWAL'tow^ a bird ithint flies 
 •mith^ard in tHnier. 
 
 Ek'muhi, a rety soil whii6 
 fit. 
 
 QoLEfiK, Ukh gold. 
 QuBKOH'si:^, piit dte<H-^ilid 
 bflightA. 
 
 i. ttfHElMS are the swallowa fled f 
 Vf Frosen and dead, 
 lance, upon soxne bleak and etoimj Bhore, 
 O doubting heart! 
 Tia^y only deep below 
 The soft white ermine enow. 
 While winter winds shall blow. 
 To breathe and smile upon you socn again. 
 
 ^hH aih Ml hid its rays - 
 TheMimftny dayij 
 Wm iM^ mkdtiii^^ li^H the m^ f 
 O doubting htmi 
 fhi abmaf Udim dt hi^h 
 Yftil the iraiiny ikjr 
 ^Th&t iH^ (fef i^]n% iM nigpi) 
 ittitt 1^ ttl MlBiillli Ifltl^f^iNiiyMi, 
 
 
0U> CHtJBGHB. 
 
 Fair hope it dead, and light 
 Is quenebed in night. 
 What sound can break the silence of despairt 
 O doubting heartl 
 The sky is overcast, 
 Tet stars shall rise at last, 
 Brighter for darkness past^ 
 And angels' silver voices stir the air. 
 
 m 
 
 
 v: 
 
 If 
 
 H.I 
 
 .' I. 
 
 -♦♦-♦- 
 
 LESSON LXXXIII. 
 
 Old Churohka 
 
 GATH-B'DftAt, the church I Ohoib, place for the singers. 
 
 of a bishop. 
 A.c-cus'toh-ed, used to, 
 
 fiuniliar vrith. 
 Ex-TEB'IOB, outside. 
 Ab^'fect, look, appearance. 
 
 Rb-pbb-sents', sets forth, 
 
 painta. 
 SUL-Fi'ci-ANS, an Order 
 
 founded by Father Olier, 
 
 a French priest 
 
 IN old times, when the whole of the known world 
 was Catholic, the people built a great many large 
 churches, many of which were made of such good 
 and strong materials that they have remained to the 
 present day. We, Who are accustomed only to the 
 churches we see in our citiea and towns, can form 
 but littre idea of the immense size and strange aspect 
 of these old cathedrals. They seem, as they are, 
 lik^ things of another day, which Time, in his rest- 
 less march, had forgotten. 
 S. One of th^ most ronarkable of t&eit ancient 
 
 •11 
 
sau 
 
 THE THIBD HEADER. 
 
 churches is that of Notre-Damei or Our Lady, in Paris, 
 built on an island, in the river which runs through the 
 city. It is Teiy old, having been commenced in the 
 twelfth century, nearly seven hundred years ago. We 
 learn from history that it took almost two hundred 
 years to build it, for they did such things slowly in 
 those days. Its walls are of immense thickness, and 
 the three hundred columns, from which spring the 
 arches supporting the roof and galleries, are also of 
 great size, and each formed of a single block of stone 
 
 3. In the ancient city of York, in England, there 
 is one of these great cathedrals which occupied 
 nearly a hundred years in building. The exterior of 
 this church is much more beautiful than that of the 
 cathedral of Paris. A curious fact in its histoiy is^ 
 that in the year 1829, it was near being destroyed bj^ 
 fire. 
 
 4. A person who was passing through the yard, 
 on that morning, happened to fall on his back, and, 
 before he could rise, saw smoke coming from the roof. 
 When the doors were opened, the wood- work of the 
 choir was found to be in flames ; they soon spread to 
 the roof, which shortly fell in — ^and the organ also 
 was burnt. The fire was found to have been the 
 work of a crazy map, named Martin. 
 
 5. We have, in our own country, in the city of 
 Montreal, a church built on the model of tiiese grand 
 temples of the Old World. The picture on the oppo- 
 site page represents this noUe ohiuoh; it, top, is 
 called Notre-Dame. It stands in the Place d'Armet, 
 in Montreal. In front there are three immense arches, 
 through which you pass into the ohurohi and at once 
 
 you wo 
 
 of £ur« 
 
 length < 
 
 6. Ai 
 
 on esudb. 
 
 the side 
 
 the pori 
 
 will see 
 
 ingona 
 
 thegrea 
 
 light ati 
 
 on the i 
 
 (o a gre 
 
0LD CHURGHEai 
 
 you would think yourself in one of the old cathedrals 
 of Europe. There are five aisles extending the full 
 length of the church. 
 
 6. At the end of the middle aisle is the high altar, 
 on each side of which is a smaller one. In each of 
 the side aisles stand two altais, and one on either side 
 the portals, or .p*eat doors, making in . all nine. You 
 will see here the rare spectacle of several Masses go- 
 ing on at the same tim«^ « The stained window over 
 the great altar is very beautiful, especially when the 
 light streams through it, reflecting the varied colors 
 on the floor below. The towers, on the outside, rise 
 to a groat h^htf you can asoend them by winding- 
 
 Mi>. 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
^8 
 
 stain, bat lo high an they, that you grow diny long 
 before the top is wachecL In one of the toiren there 
 is a yeiy laxge beO. 
 
 7. TlUa gnuid chnvbh belongt to tho Bul^eia&B, 
 who« at one time, owned the whole Island of Mon- 
 treal, and who built Notre Dame, in the present cen- 
 tury. There atood once, on the same place, a ▼er3' 
 old church,, which was taken down to make room for 
 this one, which, although not very old, when com- 
 pared with the cathedrab of Europe, still looks as 
 though it wen built hundreds of yeate aga 
 
 >4«#> 
 
 •^' 
 
 •t- 
 
 LBSSON LXXXIY. 
 This Psabia 
 
 Faikt'imo, growing fidnt, 
 
 sinking. 
 Hob'bob, dread, disgust 
 Val'ui, the worth ot 
 Obowns. foreign coin. 
 
 MooB» a native of a coun- 
 try in Africa called Mo- 
 rocco. 
 
 Dis-Fo'SES, arranges. 
 
 Mis-fob' TUNIC, caliunity. 
 
 A TRAVELLER had lost his way in a desert, in a 
 (tfstant country. For two whole days he could 
 find nothing to eat or drink, and was almost fainting 
 from hunger and thirst At last he reached a shady 
 tree and a fresh spring; but alas I then^ was no fruit 
 on the tree ! A little bag, however, was lying by the 
 spring. *Qod be {^raised!'' said the man, as he felt 
 the bag; "perhaps these are peas, which will save 
 me firom dying of hunger.*' 
 
 1 He eagerly opened the bag, bnl cried out in 
 honor, "AUsl alast th^ are onHy peitia f 
 
The poor mm ilWW4 (W^d^'iQ Jtmik Pf hunger, 
 while ther^ |»y (# hf^ itf^ pe^^ the Tilae of 
 many thooaand erownst 
 
 ^till he prayed with hit ivpiole iMttt to Ood, and 
 very soon he ea^ a Moor coming towards him at 
 great speed oa a oamel. The Moor had forgotten the 
 pearls behind him, luid was njoioed to find them 
 again. 
 
 8. He pitied the poor iialf<«tarved iaaa» gave him 
 some bread and refreshing fruit, and took him up 
 behind him on the camd. 
 
 ** See," said the Moor, '^how Qod disposes of all 1 
 r thought it a misfortune to lose my pearls, but it wae 
 a happy event for yon ; for Qod so ordered it, that I 
 was obliged to come back hither, and iSmB have been 
 khe means of saving your Hfe." 
 
 Tmst in tl^e Lord, His saving arm 
 Will ahi^d thee a^nst eveiy hfMrm. 
 
 1 
 
 '^•*- 
 
 LESSON LXXXT. 
 Tbb Par. 
 
 Wedo'id, shot up, driven 
 into. 
 
 HoABD, to save in a mi- 
 serly way. , 
 
 Re-sion'ed, contented with 
 our lot. 
 
 it 
 
 TTn-fore-ssin', not known 
 beforehand. 
 
 1. TV^l^mel what j^ipiifliw # pill, 
 U Wedged in a rotten board; 
 Fm eertain that I won^ begin 
 M ten yean old to ^^ouDdJ 
 

 X^ 
 
 I never will be called a miser— 
 That Tin detenuined;' said EUml 
 
 % So onward tripped the little uuM, 
 And left the pin behind. 
 
 Which very snug and quiet laid, 
 
 To its hard &te resigned; 
 Nor did she think, (the careless ehit), 
 Twas worth her while to stoop for It 
 
 S. Next day a parfy was to ride 
 
 To see an air balloon ; 
 And all the company beside 
 
 "Were dressed and ready soon; 
 But she a woefuLcase was in, 
 For want of just a single pin t 
 
 4. In vain her eager eyes she briqgs^ 
 
 To every darksome crack; 
 There was not one, and all her things 
 
 Were dropping off her back. 
 She kkoked her pin-eiudiion all through, 
 But not a pin appeared in view. 
 
 5. At last^ as hunting round the fl(tor^ 
 Over a erack she lay-— 
 
 The carnage rattled to the door. 
 
 Then rattled fast awa}^ 
 But poor Eliza was not in, 
 For want of just — one single pint 
 
 6. There's hardly any thing so small, 
 
 So trifling, or so meani 
 
TKM SABBirn. 
 
 .Thai wt m$j n«T«r Want at all, 
 
 For Mrriod unforseen. 
 And wilful waste, doptnd iipon't^ 
 Ib, almost always, woeful want I 
 
 m 
 
 i'; 
 
 i 1 
 
 • »<| 
 
 LESSON LXXXVI. 
 
 The Sabbath. 
 
 \ Bkt^ATBi, Sunday. 
 
 Per-vades^, mingles with. 
 
 SANcrl-nED, made holy. 
 ; OoM^EBCE, Imsinesfl. 
 
 Je-hoVah, Hebrew name 
 
 for God. 
 Pen'siyb, thoughtful. 
 Hom'aqe, honor, worship. 
 
 HOW ''^Imly breaks the Sabbath mom, showing 
 by the unbroken quiet that pervades all nature, 
 that this is a day of rest^ sanctified and blessed by 
 the decrees of Heaven. The bustle of trade is hushed, 
 the tumult of commerce is stilled ;. every living J)eing 
 shares In the deep repose ; care seems almost to have 
 left those who daily feel its Utterness, in the joy thd 
 
 Mil 
 
 4 1 
 
 n r 
 
n^ 
 
 THS 'Ofm^ itll9KB. 
 
 return of this li)l9iM4 4*y bring! to tlMlr wearied 
 spiritB. 
 
 2. The gniiil^ epuQd (i ^ belle, «e thej call the 
 Christiaii to worship the Creator of ih» imiveTBe, is 
 pleasing to the ear, and bears with it a hallowed feel- 
 ing. How lovely it is to a^ attentive observer, to see 
 with what care this Sabbath of the Lord is kept; to 
 behold group after group wending thei|r way to the 
 temple of Jehovah. Beautiful appears this holy calm, 
 that makes this day so di^Eetent from all others. 
 
 8. From the first dawn of morning, when the golden 
 lustre of the sun beams with a gentle ray over the 
 silent al)odes of man, to twilight's pensive hour, when 
 we return thanks to the Giver of all good for His 
 countless blessings, and pray for a renewal of them 
 on the morrow; even in the deep watches of the 
 night comes the #iought that this is the day which ; 
 the Lord Qod hae i|>pointed lor His mtm service, not 
 by outward i^pw, <^ pppyer uttered li^ It^e lips — oh, 
 no; Qodre<|filsea:in0ra 
 
 4. ** Son, givp me thy jheift^*' Wipe ^ words from 
 His own most sa$^ mqtiith^ aii4 i^i m^ #ie humble 
 faith of the CIMstiaii> lie jnei^ our iK>pes before 
 the Throne ^ HisiPivine M«jeoty, lie ]pp ;be sure to 
 accept it And wheni with trusting hearts, we repair 
 to His holy tepiple, aind offer Him the homage of our 
 being and QW li^, ph I thiok JQU aot 4hait His holy 
 S[pirit hovm (fxtvm^ m m^ aocepte our psayent 
 f or J[e Ma mit "mhen two or thuee are gaUiered 
 t«^et^ 4xifPypaipe^^! J am in the:midst of themf 
 Oh ! iiB^y^ he a^er wi^ 9S» diseoUiip^Miii His faoiy 
 
 
 A 
 
 •ft-.-i'^ 
 
tBE tBIINM AfTfB PXiTB. 
 
 im 
 
 .-i\. 
 
 olden 
 
 when 
 r His 
 them 
 »f the 
 which 
 », not 
 h. 
 
 from 
 Lble 
 Ibefore 
 
 rent 
 lemf 
 
 LBSSOH LXXXVII. 
 
 Thb Fbibnps afteb Death. 
 
 Re-la'ted, told. 
 Pab'a-ble, a story that 
 
 teaches something. 
 Vice'bot, a governor sent 
 
 by a king. 
 Sum'hon-ed, called to go 
 
 any wher*. 
 Ren'p-j^ togiviu 
 
 Gov'ebn-ment, raling a 
 
 country. 
 Re-u'ance, hope, tnist 
 OoN-FfDED, trusted in. 
 Ob-tain'ed, gained. 
 0-Mis'siONS, things not 
 
 done. 
 Scath'lbss, unharmed. 
 
 A FATHER once related to his children iht follow- 
 ing parable: The viceroy of a certain island 
 was once summoned by his lord, the king, to render 
 an account of hi^ government. Those of his friends 
 on whom he had placed the greatest relianoe suffered 
 him .to depart, and did not move from their place; 
 others, in whom he had not a little confided, went 
 with him only as far as the ship ; but some, in whom 
 
 » 
 
 he had scarcely trusted at all, went with him through 
 the whole of his long journey, even to the king's 
 throne, spoke in his favor, and obtained for him the 
 king's pardon. 
 
 2. ¥he ehildren di^ not understand who these 
 friends could be. Their father, therefore, said : " Man 
 also has three kinds of friendi on «arth ; which, how- 
 ever, for the most part, he does no^ leai^ lo know 
 rightly till the time when he is called from 4his world 
 to give account «if his actions and omiiuima. The 
 
M 
 
 tBEtBXBS> RitADlB. 
 
 ^ 
 
 first daas of thestltieiicb, wealth and property, remaio 
 behind. The second, his relaMons, go with him only 
 to the grave. 
 
 3. The third, his good works, follow him into eter- 
 nity, even to the throne of Qod, where it will be 
 "rendered to each according to his works," and 
 where even the cup of cold water which is given to 
 one who ihints, wiU not be without its reward. 
 
 How foolishly, then, does the man act who does 
 nbt oonoem himself in the least degree about theso 
 tmefriendsl 
 
 Store up good, while yet you may. 
 
 For the all-important day ; 
 
 Good alone survives the tomb^ 
 
 fleat h less in the general doom. 
 
 ' m m 
 
 LESSON LXXXVIIl. 
 TBI Beauhsb of Natum. 
 
 PmKAiifi^ the leaves of flow- 
 
 em, 
 BaiLtiANT, bright. 
 Rii'^pLES^ moves along 
 
 with a gentle motion. 
 hSiQsn^Y, powerful 
 
 Sba'-oibt, surrounded by 
 
 the sea. 
 Heave, to rise up. 
 Bil'lows, waves. 
 Cbe-a'tioH, the whole 
 
 world, 
 
 I. fpHERlTS beauty in the summer eva, 
 M. When flowers their petals foLA, 
 WheiD eastern skies are wrapt in gloom, 
 wesiAm clouds in gold 
 
 r 
 
THE DOG OF OBT£. 
 
 2 There's beauty in the brilliant stars 
 That g'^ tho purple sky. 
 As dance their image on the brooA 
 That slowly ripplee by. 
 
 8. There's beauty in the mighty storm 
 Along the seargirt shore. 
 Where heaye the rolling billows high^ 
 And pealing thunders roar. 
 
 4. There's beauty in deep solitude^ 
 In ocean, earth, and air; 
 On mountain peak, in shady groTe^ 
 Creation all is &ir. 
 
 5» There's beauty in the song of birdt. 
 On spray or verdant sod: 
 In every dime, from pole to pole^ 
 These beauties tell of God. 
 
 2S9 
 
 ^«» 
 
 ■-■ :i 
 
 LESpON LXXXIX; 
 
 TflS DOO 07 OSTB, 
 
 .^l'ives, # fruit which 
 grows in warm oountrica. 
 
 Vines, creeping plants on 
 which grapes grow. 
 
 iCAT'TRKSfl^ a bed made of 
 straw or hain 
 
 Blan'kbt, wooUen , bed* 
 
 covering. 
 £n-ob'xous, veiy lafge. 
 
 StBAE'GLED,, choked. 
 
 Fbioht'bn-id, terrifiedl, 
 ■addenly alanned. 
 
 IN the severe and too-memorable winter .of 17D9, 
 wheb the wheat, olives, vines, and fruit-trees were 
 frpBen in Franof. the wolvee committed fkU/Md 
 
 X .-yM 
 
140 
 
 
 rayages in tlie intttrilir of thst ftyttntiy, md even 
 kteiksd mm. Qm df Hbm Hmm tmkmk, attar 
 having broken a windaWg gDl throogli it into a little 
 cottage, in the forest ot Orte. Two ehildren, one six 
 and the other eight yean old, lay on the bed, awai^ 
 ing the return of their mother, who waa gone to 
 gather aome wood to ttkaka a iliai 
 
 2. Seeing no one else ftbont, the wolf leaped upon 
 the bed to devonr hie tender prey. Seiied with 
 fright the two boys dipped under the mattresi, and 
 there lay flat, without breathing. So near the flesh 
 and not able to roach it as aoon as he would have 
 liked, the savage beast became more ezated, and 
 began to tear the blanket and bed-elothes to shreds. 
 
 8. Whilst the enraged wolf was seeking the boys 
 an enormous masti£^ which had followed its nustresp 
 inta the wood, came to the rescue. The dog ha^ 
 caught the soent at seme distance from the houses, 
 to which the villagers, Tvitli arms fllled with wood, 
 were slowly walking. Running like a deer, he entered 
 the hut» a,nd falling upon the wol^ seiaed him by the 
 throat and sirauglecl him. "^ 
 
 4 Let any one {uCture to hinuMlf the state of the 
 poor mother, when she returned to her humble home. 
 $hi sOli^ lit her i^ 4 dead wdlf->^her dog covered 
 /with blood—the bed all iossed^h()r children no 
 moMh But tiie noble dog came towards her, as 
 though he would say, '^Oome V* and returning to the 
 bedi stuck his head andet the mattresi. Th» poor 
 womail took the hkiti and turning up tii6 bed, there 
 lay the objects of her anxiety, aliyob but ^frightened 
 Ikitetimt^ilie^fiftsi