UC-NRLF ^B LD Ofl^ r \3\j fC JL 0. EADER I' m fi i ti SI CRAMER COMPANY, TOPSKA, TV Dl No. J DN , Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/cranereaderOOpickrich THE Crane Fourth Eeader COMPILED BY LILLIAlSr H. PICKElsr Crane & Company, Publishers ToPEKA, Kansas 1902 ;. t «," t y"i ^'■\-^ '- Copyright by Crane & Company, Topeka, Kansas 1902 e PUCATtO N DEffi PREFACE. Teachers will find it profitable to assign lessons from different portions of the book, instead of having these selections read in succession. There is no reason except tradition, for reading "through'' fourth and fifth read- ers. Selections, chosen for their relation to topics which are being studied in geography, history, or biography, give added interest to the lessons of the week. "Anniversary" readings, chosen for their special con- nection with the birthday of a noted individual, lend zest to the assignments for a given date. Let pupils sometimes choose passages from their favorite authors, selecting paragraphs or stanzas to be read with comments by members of the class. Students should be encouraged to recognize and commend beauties of thought and diction. Lillian H. Picken. (S) 54!r,47 TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAGE. Preliminary. — Instructions and Suggestions to Teachers. — Defini- tions, etc., etc 7-19 A Baby Cuttle-Fi&h 67 A Bee-Hunt Washington Irving, 201 Abou Ben Adhem Leigh Hunt, 95 A Child's Dream of a Star Charles Dickens, 247 Alexander Selkirk William Cowper, 186 An Old- Fashioned Girl Louisa May Alcott, 140 A Story of Michael Angelo 70 A Pleasant Incident Louisa May Alcott, 75 Awakening of Rip Van Winkle Washington Irving, 228 Boston Hymn Ralph Waldo Emerson, 154 Boys Wanted 194 Charles Dickens's Letter to His Son Charles Dickens, 83 Crossing the Bar Alfred Tennyson, 242 Crusoe's Home Daniel Defoe, 63 David Copperfield Finds His Aunt, Part I , Charles Dickens, 308 David Copperfield Finds His Aunt, Part II 312 Down to Sleep Helen Hunt Jackson, 346 Elegy Written in a Country Church- Yard Thomas Gray, 236 Every Day Elizabeth Akers Allen, 195 Farming Ralph Waldo Emerson, 136 Fate of the North- American Indians Joseph Story, 191 Four Sunbeams 274 Franklin's Arrival at Philadelphia Benjamin Franklin, 46 Frozen Words Joseph Addison, 286 Gradation Josiah Gilbert Holland, 56 He Liveth Long Who Liveth Well Horatius Bonar, 109 Holland Mary Mapes Dodge, 293 How Sleep the Brave William Collins, 339 Incidents in the Life of Washington 253 Integrity and Industry William McKinley, 55 Little Bell Thomas Westwood, 146 Making Maple Sugar in Canada, Part I Charles W. Gordon, 215 Making Maple Sugar in Canada, Part II 217 Mark Hopkins David Dudley Field, 188 Measuring the Baby Emma Alice Broicne, 61 Memory's Big Photograph Album Edward Wallis Hoch, 326 New Every Morning Lois Cateshy, 273 Nobody's Child 107 Origin of Coal Lyman C. Wooster, 272 Philip, My King Dinah Mulock Craik, 252 Pictures of Memory .Alice Gary, 243 Rain in the Garret Donald Grant Mitchell, 327 Rain on the Roof Coates Kinney, 324 Saint Genevieve Adapted, 283 Seven Times Four .Jean Ingelow, 144 Song of the Steam G. W. Cutter, 180 Sponge 41 Spring Rudyard Kipling, 245 Stick to Your Bush 73 Story of the Butterfly 5S Thanksgiving ..Unidentified, 297 Thanksgiving Dinner at Plumfield .Louisa M. Alcott, 164 The Barefoot Boy John G. Whittier, 37 The Birds of Spring Washington Irving, 156 The Bluebird Emily Huntington Miller, 54 The Blue and the Gray Francis Miles Finch, 29 The Boston Massacre Nathaniel Hawthorne, 317 The Bobolink Washington Irving, 158 The Bugle-Song ...Alfred Tennyson, 66 The Builders Henry W. Longfellow, 100 The Children Richard Realf, 86 The Coyote Mark Twain, 354 The Day is Done .Henry W. Longfellow, 222 The Dervish and the Camel 197 The Dutch Boer and His Horse Elihu Burritt, 212 The Engineer and His Little Friends 90 The First Snowfall James Russell Lowell, 31 The George Junior Republic World's Work, 207 The Golden Fleece, Part 1 30a The Golden Fleece, Part II : 303 The Heritage James Russell Lowell, 51 The Hero of Blackwater Adapted, 280 The Inchcape Rock Robert Southey, 203 The King of the Golden River, Part I John Ruskin, 328 The King of the Golden River, Part II 331 The King of the Golden River, Part III 336 The Last Leaf 0. W. Holmes, 21 The Life-Boat 170 The Long Ago Benjamin F. Taylor, 307 The Miraculous Pitcher, Part I Nathaniel Hawthorne, 110 The Miraculous Pitcher, Part II 119 The Miraculous Pitcher, Part III 128 The Mocking Bird 96 The Miser Charles Dickens, 266 The Moon's Story 176 The Mountain Brook 270 D TABLE OF CONTENTS. The Night Before Christmas Clement C. Moore, 44 The Normans 290 The Old Arm-Chair Eliza Cook, 260 The Old Oaken Bucket Samuel Woodworth, 282 The Pearl-Diver Felicia D. Hemans, 162 The Pacific Ocean Philip Henry Gosse, 340 The Pet Squirrel 149 The Pine-Tree Shilling, Part I Nathaniel Hawthorne, 24 The Pine-Tree Shilling, Part II : 27 The Planting of the Apple Tree William Cullen Bryant, 262 The Power of Habit John B. Gough, 78 The Redbird Andrew Downing, 246 The Shipwreck of Robinson Crusoe Daniel Defoe, 183 The Story of King Midas 88 The Skater and the Wolves 224 The Sleigh-Ride 258 The Soul William Wordsioorth, 172 The Spider Speaks for Herself Olive Thome Miller, 276 The Spindle, the Needle, and the Shuttle 348 The Storks of Strasburg 173 The Sun 219 The Tale of Macbeth, Part I Sir Walter Scott, 101 The Tale of Macbeth, Part II 104 The Three Kingdoms J. E. Bendall, 344 The Tree Bjornstjerne Bjornson, 169 They Also Serve . . .' John Milton, 172 Those Homely Weeds Leander S. Keyser, 33 Tom Brown's Experience Thomas Hughes, 238 Turning the Grindstone Benjamin Franklin, 49 What the Chimney Sang Bret Harte, 200 What the Winds Bring Edmund C. Stedman, 135 Words Adelaide Anne Procter, 81 Words and Songs Robert Louis Stevenson, 211 THE CRANE FOURTH HEADER, EEADING. Reading is the comprehension and transmission of thought from the written or printed page, and is of two kinds, silent and audible. Silent Reading is comprehending or interpreting the thoughts of an author from the written or printed page. Audible Reading is the correct interpretation of thought from the written or printed page, and the trans- mission of this thought to others by means of the organs of speech. A Word is the sign of an idea. A Spoken word is a sound or a combination of sounds used to represent an idea. A Written word is a character or combination of char- acters used to represent an idea. Emphasis is any peculiar utterance by which words, phrases or sentences are made more prominent. Inflection is the sliding of the voice either upward or downward. The upward slide is marked thus, {'), the downward slide thus C). (7) 8 '^ '' ' '' '^flE CRANE FOURTH READER. RULES FOR INFLECTION. Imperative sentences and earnest entreaty receive the falling inflection. EXAMPIiES. " Go to the grave of buried love and there meditate^." " Begone^, Run"' to your houses, fall^ upon your knees, Pray^ to the gods to intermit the plagues." " 0, save^ me, Hubert^", save^ me ! My eyes are out Even with the fierce looks of those bloody men." Interrogative sentences receive the rising inflection. EXAMPIiE. " Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction' ? Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation' ? " Interrogative sentences that begin with a pronoun or an adverb receive the falling inflection. BXAMPIiES. "What is it that gentlemen wish^? What would they have^? Why stand we here idle^ ? " "Who says this^?" " Who '11 prove it at his peril on my head^ ? " Where a pause is required, but the sense is incomplete, the rising inflection is generally required. EXAMPIiES. " When Freedom from her mountain height', Unfurled her standard to the air', She tore the azure robe of night'. And set the stars of glory there""." A Group of words making complete sense should re- ceive the falling inflection. THE CKANE FOUKTH KEADEK. 9 HiliTJSTBATIONS. " Friends', countrymen' and lovers', hear me for my cause"" and be silent that you may hear^." " The cynic is the human owl'', vigilant in darkness and blind to lighf ; mousing for vermin, and never seeing noble game""." Antithesis in reading is contrast. EXAMPI/E. The high' and the low"", the rich' and the poor^. The different parts of the antithesis should receive op- posite inflections. EXAMPLES. "It is sown in corruption'; it is raised in incorruption^. It is sown a natural' body; it is raised a spiritual^ body." " By honor' and dishonor^ ; by evil' report and good^ report ; as de- ceivers', and yet true"^." The rising slide is used to express negative ideas in contrast with positive ones ; as — You must not play' now; you must worJc^. It is the time to work^, not to be idle'. Emphatic words, phrases and sentences usually receive the falling inflection. IliliTJSTRATION. " I do not rise to waste the night in words'^ ; Let that plebeian talk"" ; 't is not my trade"" ; But here I stand for right^ — let him show proof — for Roman right^." EXCLAMATIONS. An Exclamation is an expression of sudden or strong emotion. 10 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. HiliTJSTRATIONS. " Thou slave"^ ! Thou wretch^ ! Thou coward^ ! " " O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers! Whence are thy beams, O Sun, thy everlasting light^ ? " "To arms! they come! the Greek! the Greek!" " Strike — till the last armed foe expires, Strike — for your altars and your fires, Strike — for the green graves of your sires, God, and your native land." " Woe unto you, Pharisees ! hypocrites ! " ARTICULATION. Articulation is the correct utterance of the elementary sounds of a language. There can be no good reading without a clear, distinct articulation. Nothing lends a greater charm to reading or speaking than good articula- tion. A Vowel sound is a sound made with the organs of speech open; as, a, e, etc. A Consonant sound is a sound made with the organs of speech partially closed; as, b, d, etc. FORMS OF VOICE. Voice is produced by the action of the breath on the vocal cords. Form of voice refers to the manner in which the sound is emitted from the organs of speech. There are three forms of voice, namely: Effusive, Expulsive, and Ex- plosive. In the Effusive form the sound is sent forth from the vocal organs in a gentle, tranquil manner ; as — THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 11 " Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame, fresh and gory; We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory." " Father, Thy hand Hath reared these venerable columns; Thou Didst weave this verdant roof." The Expulsive form of the voice is the forcible and abrupt expulsion of the sound from the organs of speech ; as — " Paul Revere was a rider bold — Well has his valorous deed been told; Sheridan's ride was a glorious one — Often it has been dwelt upon: But why should men do all the deeds On which the love of a patriot feeds? Hearken to me, while I reveal The dashing ride of Jennie McNeal." In the Explosive form, the voice is emitted from the vocal organs very abruptly. When persons are very much excited, as in joy, anger, rage, scorn, terror, alarm, or courage, the explosive form of the voice is used. EXAMPIiES. "Joy, joy! shout aloud for joy! " "0 death, where is thy sting! O grave, where is thy victory! " "Go^, ring the bells'", and fire the guns^, And fling the starry banner ouf"; Shout' ' Freedom ! ' till your lisping ones Give back their cradle-shout; Let boasted eloquence declaim Of honor, liberty, and fame; 12 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. Still let the poet's strain be heard, With ' glory ' for each second word, And everything with breath agree To praise 'our glorious liberty' !" PITCH. Pitch is the elevation or depression of the voice. There are three kinds of pitch, namely : Low, Middle, and High. In low pitch the key is the same as that used in ex- pressing sublime and mournful thought. EXAMPLE. , Slow Movement, Effusive Form. " The curfew tolls the knell of parting day ; The lowing herds wind slowly o'er the lea; The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me." In middle pitch the key is the same as that used in common conversation. EXAMPIiE. Slow Movement, Effusive Form. "Only a newsboy, under the light Of the lamp-post, plying his trade in vain; Men are too busy to stop to-night, Hurrying home through the sleet and rain. Never since dark a paper sold: Where shall he sleep, or how be fed? He thinks, as he shivers there in the cold. While happy children are safe abed." In high pitch the key is the same as that used in ex- pressing animated thought. THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 13 EXAMPIiE. Rapid Movement, Expulsive Form. "Voyager upon life's sea. To yourself be truej And where'er your lot may be, Paddle your own canoe. Never, though the winds may rave, Falter nor look back, But upon the darkest wave Leave a shining track." A rhetorical pause is a suspension of the voice to mark a change in the thought, or to bring out the thought of the sentence more clearly. rLIiXTSTRATIONS. "Joy and sorrow | move him not." "No people | can claim him. No country | can appropriate him." " Solomon | son of David | was king of Israel." FORCE. Force is energy used in speaking. There are four kinds of force: Subdued, Moderate, Energetic, and Sus- tained. Subdued force is the energy that extends from the lowest pure tone to that of common conversation. EXAMPLE. Low Pitch, Effusive Form. " But where are the young and lovely ? Gone ! Where are the brows with the red rose crowned. And the floating forms with the bright zone bound. And the waving locks and flying feet That still should be where the mirthful meet? They are gone, they are parted all! Alas, the forsaken hall! " 14 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. Moderate force is the energy used in common con- versation. EXAMPLE. Middle Pitch, Explosive Form. "You've set me to talking, sir; I'm sorry; It makes me wild to think of the change! What do you care for a beggar's story? Is it amusing? you find it strange? I had a mother so proud of me! 'T was well she died before. — Do you know If the happy spirits in heaven can see The ruin and wretchedness here below ? " Energetic force is used in animated conversation. This is the force used to express joy or happiness. EXAMPLE. High Pitch, Expulsive Form. "And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles On the dewy earth that smiles on his ray, On the leaping waters and gay young isles; Ay, look, and he '11 smile thy gloom away.'* Sustained force is the energy used in calling, and in giving military commands. EXAMPLE : CALLING. High Pitch, Expulsive Form. " Rejoice, ye men of Angers ! King your bells : King John, your king and England's, doth approach. Open your gates, and give the victors way!" COMMANDrN-Q. Very High Pitch, Expulsive Form. " Forward, the Light Brigade, Charge for the guns! " THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 15 PURE TONE. Normal pure tone is clear and pleasing. Its resonance is in the head cavities above the upper part of the mouth. Avoid qualities of tone which seem to proceed — 1. From the throat — ^ * huskiness. ' ' 2. From the front nasal cavities — ' ' twang. ' ' 3. From the front of the mouth, just back of the teeth — ** oral " tone. Normal pure tone should be the tone of ordinary con- versation and reading. In it we express didactic thought, joy, mild pathos, etc. Pure tone is best exemplified in the voices of healthy, happy children. In adults, purity is often impaired through carelessness, indifference, or disease. In nature it occurs in the rippling of a brook, in the song of birds, and in the laughter of children. Pure tone is the tone to be cultivated in the class-room. By persistent effort and continued culture it may be pre- served throughout life. SUGGESTIOIS^S FOR BUSY- WORK. The following exercises are suggested for seat-work related to reading in the third and fourth grades: 1. Let the pupils write lists of words derived from the same root, as, call, called, calling, caller. These may be used in sentences. 2. Place the new words in each day's lesson on the black- board, as might, lack, said, and let the children write all the words they know that rhyme with them. 16 THE CRANE FOUKTII READER. 3. Let the children copy certain paragraphs from the reading lesson and underline all names of objects, all words showing action, or all words telling kind or quality. 4. Write on the blackboard, sentences taken from the reading lesson. Underline certain words, and require pupils to substitute words of like meaning. 5. Let the pupils build words out of the letters in one of the new words, as Longfellow,— on, owl, low, gone, fell, now, etc. 6. Place on the blackboard, questions that may be an- swered from the assigned reading lesson. Require an- swers written in complete statements. 7. Ask the pupils to select all nouns in the reading lesson and use with each an appropriate adjective which will describe it ; as, " Coal is hard,'' ^^ Stones are heavy,'' "Water is clear," etc. 8. Place on the blackboard, lists of words needed in the language, reading, or general lessons, and require the class to use them in sentences. These sentences should mean something. Not— "I see a shell," but, ''The shell was found in the sea," "The shell is smooth and bright," "The oyster's home is a shell." 9. The most beautiful thoughts in the day's reading lesson may be copied by pupils and memorized. These selections may be profitably used in the rhetorical exer- cises. THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 17 PHONIC CHART. ma'eron, marks long vowels. bar, marks long-short or unaccented long vowels. breve, marks short vowels. ca^ret, marks sounds of a, e, and o before r. di er^e sis or "two dots." sem I di er'e sis or "one dot." t'irde, marks vowels modified by r. ge diria, denotes that c has the sound of s. a ate e eat 1 ige a sen^ate e event' i ide'a a at e end i it a air e Mk i sir a are e earn "i piqi^e a ask e eight y my a m oo moon y hy e'na ^ wa§ d6 gdbd f po'ny a= e any old ti u§e oi on 6 obe?/" u u nite' oy toy oM ii us ou out Q do U rule ow owl Q coifM u put ew= = u pew 6 dove u urn ew= =oo chew 6 or ' coror —2 18 THE CRAKE FOURTH READER. I.I K K VOWKIiS. a=e ate eight a = e air heir a = 6 an or a=6 wa§ od6^ a=e any end e i 6 u earn sir €6r( iy iQe my iy It myth i = e • piqwe peek 6o = g = U moon do rule d6=o =v gdbd eoiild put 6 = u dove lis ou=ow oi=oy ee=e urn CONSONANTS. € = k eat th think qu=kw quit g = s i(?e wh=h whQ r rat f fan b boy r are h hat c = z dig cern' § = z a§ k kite d dog s = zh trea§'ure P pan S get. V vine ph=f "phone'' k gem w win q=k piqwe gh=f eoMgh x=z Xe'nia s sat J jam X = gz ex aet' s = sh sugar 1 let y yet t tin • m man z zone x=ks ax n not ng sing ch chat n ink th the Qh = sh ghai§e n=ny ean on wh = hw when €h = k eAo^rus ph=v Ste'phen z = zh az'ure sh she THE CKAKE FOURTH READER. 19 SUGGESTIONS. To THE Pupil. 1. Stand or sit erect and with grace. 2. Inhale through the nostrils and economize breath when using the voice. 3. Cultivate pure tone. 4. Cultivate pure articulation. 5. Own and use a dictionary ; study the words in each new lesson. 6. Know the thought in a passage before you attempt to read it aloud. To THE Teacher. 1. Assign short lessons — a few paragraphs instead of pages. 2. Select lessons for assignment from different parts of the book. Attempting to '' read through '' a fourth or fifth reader is not an inspiring task. 3. Pupils should use a dictionary in the preparation of each lesson. 4. Unless the purpose of the exercise is sight-reading, it is helpful to have a pupil tell the thought in a passage before reading it aloud. 5. Teach pupils — To study the words in a selection ; To study the thoughts expressed ; To control the breath ; To use pure tone and clear articulation; To express thought in a graceful and natural man- ner. THE CEANE FOUETH EEADEE. LESSON I. for sak^en moss'f erl^er pave^ment mar^bkg - prun^mg tot^ter§ tgm6 carved THE LAST LEAF. Oliver Wendell Holmbs (1 809-1894), was one of the most witty and brilliant writers of the nineteenth century. He was a doctor of medicine, a college professor, an essayist, a novelist, and a poet. He graduated from Harvard College in 1829. Among his essays are The Breakfast Series. His best novels are Elsie Venner and The Guardian Angel. Many of his poems were written for special occasions, especially class reunions in college. The Boys is a good example of this class. His home was in Boston. 1. I saw him once before As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. 2. They say that in his prime. Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the crier on his round Through the town. (21) 22 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 3. But now he walks the streets, And he looks at all he meets Sad and wan, And he shakes his feeble head. That it seems as if he said, '' They are gone." 4. The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has prest In their bloom. And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many a year On the tomb. 5. My grandmamma has said — Poor old lady, she is dead. Long ago — That he had a Eoman nose. And his cheek was like a rose In the snow. 6. But now his nose is thin, And it rests upon his chin Like a staff. And a crook is in his back And a melancholy crack In his laugh. 7. I know it is a sin For me to sit and grin At him here; THE CEANE FOUKTH READER. 23 But the old three-cornered hat, And the breeches, and all that. Are so queer! 8. And if I should live to be The last leaf upon the tree In the spring, Let them smile as I do now. At the old forsaken bough Where I cling. Oliver Wendell Holmes. What is meant by " the crier " ? What is " the pruning-knife of Time " ? The leaf-tongues of the forest, and the flow'r-lips of the sod — The happy birds that hymn their raptures in the ear of God — The summer wind that bringeth music over land and sea. Have each a voice that singeth this sweet song of songs to me — This world is full of beauty, as other worlds above; And, if we did our duty, it might be full of love. 24 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. pe'o ny pon'der oils person a h\e LESSON 11. por^tion mag^is trates qmn^talg tank^ard bu€ €a neerg' re gep^ta ele Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864) lived in New England — first at Salem, Massachu- setts, then at Concord. He served as consul at Liverpool from 1853 to 1857. He spent the next year in Italy. He was of a sad, unhappy dis- position, but he had great power as a writer. He wrote two books for children, Tanglewood Tales and The Wonder Book. He wrote many tales that are charming in form and purpose. His Scarlet Letter and The Marble Faun are his most famous romances. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE, THE PINE-TREE SHILLING. PART I. 1. The Captain John Hull aforesaid was the mintmaster of Massachusetts, and coined all the money that was made there. This was a new line of business ; for, in the earlier days of the colony, the coinage consisted of gold and silver money of England, Portugal, and Spain. These coins being scarce, the people were often forced to barter their commodities instead of selling them. 2. For instance, if a man wanted to buy a coat, he per- haps exchanged a bear-skin for it. If he wished for a barrel of molasses, he might purchase it with a pile of pine boards. Musket bullets were used instead of farthings. The Indians had a sort of money, called wampum, which was made of clam-shells, and this strange specie was like- THE CKANE FOURTH EEADER. 25 wise taken in payment of debts by the English settlers. Bank bills had never been heard of. There was not money enough of any kind, in many parts of the country, to pay the salaries of the ministers ; so that sometimes they had to take quintals of fish, bushels of corn, or cords of wood, instead of silver or gold= 3. As the people grew more numerous and their trade one with another increased, the want of current money was still more sensibly felt. To supply the demand, the general court passed a law for establishing a coinage of shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Captain John Hull was appointed to manufacture this money, and was to have about one shilling out of every twenty to pay him for the trouble of making them. 4. Hereupon all the old silver in the colony was handed over to Captain John Hull. The battered silver cans and tankards, I suppose, and siiver buckles, and broken spoons, and silver buttons off worn-out coats, and silver hilts of swords that had figured at courts — all such curious old articles were doubtless thrown into the melting-pot to- gether. But by far the greater part of the silver consisted of bullion from the mines of South America, which the English buccaneers — who were little better than pirates — had taken from the Spaniards, and brought to Massachu- setts. 5. All this old and new silver being melted down and coined, the result was an immense amount of splendid shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Each had the date of 1652 on the one side, and the figure of a pine tree on the other. Hence they were called pine-tree shillings, and for every twenty shillings that he coined, you will remem- 26 THE CEANE FOUKTH KEADEK. ber, Captain John Hull put one shilling into his own pocket. The magistrates soon began to suspect that the mintmaster would have the best of the bargain. They offered him a large sum of money if he would give up that twentieth shilling which he was continually dropping into his own pocket. But Captain Hull declared himself perfectly sat- isfied with the shilling, and well he might be, for so dili- gently did he labor that, in a few years, his pockets, his money-bags, and his strong-box were overflowing with pine-tree shillings. 6. This was probably the case when he came into posses- sion of Grandfather's chair; and, as he had worked so hard at the mint, it was certainly proper that he should have a comfortable chair to rest himself in. When the mintmaster had grown very rich, a young man, Samuel Sewell by name, came a-courting to his only daughter. His daughter — whose name I do not know, but we will call her Betsy — was a fine, hearty damsel, by no means so slender as some young ladies of our own days. On the con- trary, haying always fed heartily on pumpkin pies, dough- nuts, Indian pudding, and other Puritan dainties, she was as round and plump as a pudding herself. With this round, rosy Miss Betsy did Samuel Sewell fall in love. As he was a young man of good character, industrious in his business and a member of the church, the mintmaster very readily gave his consent. " Yes, you may take her," said he in his rough way, '' and you will find her a heavy burden enough." On the wedding day, we may suppose honest John Hull dressed himself in a plum-colored coat, all the buttons of which were made of pine-tree shillings. The buttons of his waistcoat were sixpences ; and the knees THE CRANE FOUETH EEADEE. 27 of his small-clotlies were buttoned with silver threepences. Thus attired, he sat with great dignity in Grandfather's chair; and, being a portly old gentleman, he completely filled it from elbow to elbow. LESSOE" III. THE PINE-TREE SHILLING. PART II. 1. On the opposite side of the room, between her brides- maids, sat Miss Betsy. She was blushing with all her might, and looked like a full-blown peony, or a great red apple. There, too, was the bridegroom, dressed in a fine purple coat and gold lace waistcoat, with as much other finery as the Puritan laws and customs would allow him to put on. His hair was cropped close to his head, because Governor Endicott had forbidden any man to wear it below the ears. But he was a very personable young man ; and so thought the bridesmaids and Miss Betsy herself. 2. The mintmaster was also pleased with his new son-in- law : especially as he had courted Miss Betsy out of pure love, and had said nothing at all about her portion. So, when the marriage ceremony was over. Captain Hull whis- pered a word to two of his men servants, who immediately went out, and soon returned, lugging in a large pair of scales. They were such a pair as wholesale merchants use for weighing bulky commodities ; and quite a bulky com- modity was now to be weighed on them. 3. ^^ Daughter Betsy," said the mintmaster, "get into one side of these scales." 4. Miss Betsy — or Mrs. Sewell, as we must now call 28 THE CKANE FOURTH EEADER. her — did as she was bid, like a dutiful child, without any question of the why and wherefore. But what her father could mean, unless to make her husband pay for her by the pound (in which case she would have been a dear bargain), she had not the least idea. 5. "And now," said Honest John Hull to the servants, " bring that box hither." 6. The box to which the mintmaster pointed was a huge, square, iron-bound, oaken chest ; it was big enough, my children, for all four of you to play at hide-and-seek in. The servants tugged with might and main, but could not lift this receptable, and were finally obliged to drag it across the floor. Captain Hull then took a key from his girdle, unlocked the chest and lifted its ponderous lid. Behold ! it was full to the brim of bright pine-tree shillings, fresh from the mint ; and Samuel began to think his father- in-law had got possession of all the money in the Massachu- setts treasury. But it was only the mintmaster's honest share of the coinage. 7. Then the servants, at Captain Hull's command, heaped double-handfuls of shillings into one side of the scales, while Betsy remained in the other. Jingle, jingle went the shillings, as handful after handful were thrown in, till, plump and ponderous as she was, they fairly weighed the young lady from the floor. 8. "There, son Sewell," cried the honest mintmaster, resuming his seat in Grandfather's chair, " take these shil- lings for my daughter's portion, use her kindly, and thank heaven for her. It is not every wife that is worth her weight in silver ! '^ Nathaniel Hawthorne. What is a mint? Describe the coins made by the mintmaster. THE CEANE FOUflTH KEADER. 29 LESSOI^ IV. rob'mg§ spler/dor (der) wlnd^mg jMg'ment eool'ing ban'ish THE BLUE AND THE GRAY. 1. By the flow of the inland river, Whence the fleets of iron have fled, Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver. Asleep are the ranks of the dead; Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Under the one, the Blue, Under the other, the Gray. 2. These in the robings of glory. Those in the gloom of defeat : All with the battle-blood gory. In the dusk of eternity meet ; Under the sod and the dew. Waiting the judgment day; Under the laurel, the Blue, Under the willow, the Gray. 3. From the silence of sorrowful hours The desolate mourners go. Lovingly laden with flowers. Alike for the friend and the foe; Under the sod and the dew. Waiting the judgment day; 30 THE CRAKE FOTTETH READER. Under the roses, the Blue, Under the lilies, the Gray. 4. So, with an equal splendor, The morning sun-rays fall. With a touch impartially tender. On the blossoms blooming for all; Under the sod and the dew. Waiting the judgment day; Broidered with gold, the Blue, Mellowed with gold, the Gray. 5. So, when the Summer calleth. On forest and field of grain. With an equal murmur f alleth The cooling drip of the rain; Under the sod and the dew. Waiting the judgment day; Wet with the rain, the Blue, Wet with the rain, the Gray. 6. Sadly, but not with upbraiding. The generous deed was done ; In the storm of years that are fading. No braver battle was won ; Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Under the blossoms, the Blue, Under the garlands, the Gray. 7. No more shall the war-cry sever. Or the winding rivers be red; THE CKANE FOURTH HEADER. 81 They banish our anger forever, When they laurel the graves of our dead ; Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Love and tears for the Blue, Tears and love for the Gray. Francis Miles Finch. To what does " The Blue and the Gray " allude ? LESSON V. er^mme A«*^biirn hem^lock Chan^ti eleer grad^u al gloam^mg €ar ra^ra pa^tience whis^pered (pa^shens) THE FIRST SNOWFALL. 1. The snow had begun in the gloaming, And busily all the night Had been heaping field and highway With a silence deep and white. 2. Every pine and fir and hemlock Wore ermine too dear for an earl, And the poorest twig on the elm tree Was ridged inch-deep with pearl. 3. From sheds new-roofed with Carrara Came Chanticleer's mufiied crow. The stiff rails were softened to swan's-down, And still fluttered down the snow. 32 THE CBANE FOUBTH BEADEK. 4. I stood and watched by tlie window The noiseless work of the sky, And the sudden flurries of snowbirds, Like brown leaves whirling by. 5. I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn "Where a little headstone stood; How the flakes were folding it gently, As did robins the babes in the wood. 6. Up spoke our own little Mabel, Saying, "Father, who makes it snow?" And I told of the good All-Father Who cares for us here below. 7. Again I looked at the snowfall. And thought of the leaden sky That arched o'er our first great sorrow, When that mound was heaped so high. 8. I remembered the gradual patience That fell from that cloud like snow. Flake by flake, healing and hiding The scar of our deep-plunged woe. 9. And again to the child I whispered : " The snow that husheth all. Darling, the merciful Father Alone can make it fall!" 10. Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her ; And she, kissing back, could not know THE CKANE FOURTH READER. 33 That my kiss was given to lier sister, Folded close under deepening snow. James Russell Lowell. What is meant by the lines: " Every pine and fir and hemlock Wore ermine too dear for an earl " ? Where is Auburn? What is Carrara? Tell the story of the " Babes in the Wood." lesso:n" VI. home^iy- bou quet' bliis^ter mg pet^als (boo kaO chir^rupped sta^men§ ^n eoiir'aged (chir^riipt) trilOi iim shriv^ekd ear^di nal ge ra'ni iim gar'nered Jan^ti a r^ THOSE HOMELY WEEDS. 1. If you bad been a fairy or a fay, you might have heard the loud laughter that rippled down the vale. Per- haps it would not have had an altogether pleasant sound, because there was a note of scorn in it all, as if some one were making sport of some one else. That is just what was happening. The peals of laughter were coming from the petals and stamens of a clump of pretty wild flowers that grew on the bank of the brook. "Ha! ha!" shrilled the bluebells. "What homely things they are ! " "As ugly as an old rail fence!" jibed the harebells. 34 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 2. " I wonder what earthly use such homely weeds can be, an^^way," jeered a beautiful trillium, waving its pointed crimson petals. "No one ever admires them, and so I can't see why they are made to grow." " There come the farmer and his daughter," whispered a wild geranium. "Let's listen to what they have to say. Hush-sh-sh!" "Oh, what pretty flowers, papa!" the little girl was saying. "I'm going to gather some for a bouquet. Oh, see that bright bunch of bells!" 3. She plucked a flower here and there until she had gathered a large, many-colored bouquet. "I think wild flowers are so lovely," she said. "But just look at those ugly weeds over there in the field! I wonder why they couldn't be pretty flowers instead of homely green weeds. Are they of any use, papal" "None that I can see, unless it is to make us farmers a lot of bother," the man replied. . 4. As this talk went on, you should have seen the poor weeds drop their heads. They felt so ashamed that they blushed, really and truly— only they blushed green in- stead of red as boys and girls do. With heads hanging down, they whispered among themselves: " Everybody hates us. It 's no use to live. Why were we made 1 " Still, the sun did not despise them, but shone just as brightly on them as he did upon the vain flowers that were making sport of them. That encouraged the weeds, and they lifted up their heads and kept on growing; they couldn't help it, in fact, and by-and-by a cluster of dull- red flowers blossomed out on their long stems. THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 35 5. " Oh, ho ! ho ! ho-o-o-o ! '' laughed the flowers by the brook-side. ''What hateful flowers are growing on old Weed Clump! Look! look! Brick-red! What a color for flowers ! Pooh ! pooh ! " " No, it 's no use," moaned the humble weeds, their heads drooping. "We're of no use. No matter what we do, no one is pleased. But then, Mother Nature made us as we are, and we '11 do the best we can." 6. In this way they took courage, and kept on growing and blooming. By-and-by, as August passed and Sep- tember came on, the flowers all withered, and even their stalks and leaves shriveled up and fell to the ground. But the weeds stood upright in their places, and as their flowers faded and fell, they garnered many seeds in their pods. The wind, try as it would, could not shake the seeds out of their cases, for the weeds held them fast. 7. October came and went, and so did November and December. January came, cold and blustering. Weed Clump had lost all its green leaves, but every stalk of the family stood straight and tall, holding its little bins of seeds tightly closed against the winds and the blustering snow-storms. Listen to this chirping talk among the Feathered Folk : " 0-o-oh ! just look at this nice clump of weeds ! And every pod is as full of seeds as it can be. Now we shall have a dinner fit for kings and queens." 8. Who was it that was talking so cheerily? It was one of the snowbirds, as he darted into the midst of Weed Clump, followed by his flock of feathered companions. "Aren't these fine seeds 1 So rich and ripe ! " chirrupped 36 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. a tree sparrow, who was perclied on a slender, swaying stem. "Yes, indeed," replied tlie merry black-capped chicka- dee. " On a cold, wintry day like this such seeds save the lives of us birds. "We couldn't live the winter through without them.'^ " Eight you are, right you are, cousin,'' cried the tufted titmouse, helping himself to, a well-filled pod. "Ah! this is a fine winter feast." 9. " Chick-a-dee-dee-dee ! chick ! chick-a-dee-dee-dee ! " agreed the dainty black-cap. "I like these weed seeds, too," chimed the brilliant car- dinal. " And so do I," declared the song sparrow. " The seeds make me a dinner, and the thick clusters of stems, with the matted grass at their feet, protect me from the winter storms. Do you see my snug little parlor down there? All night long I can sleep there, cozy and warm, while the xvdnds howl unharming around me. Isn't it nice!" 10. " Oh, what a blessing these weeds are to us birds in the cold winter weather ! " sang the merry titmouse. " And then in the spring and summer we eat up the insects that would destroy the grain. and fruit and flowers and trees. So the farmer couldn't live and the flowers couldn't bloom if it wasn't for the birds, and the birds couldn't live through the winter if it wasn't for the weeds. See 1 see 1 Chick! chick-a-dee-dee ! " and his ringing voice fairly echoed through the woods near at hand. 11. All this unexpected praise was like sweet music in the hungry ears of Weed Clump, as they nodded and THE CKANE FOURTH READER. 37 winked, and rattled their seed-pods in great glee, and cried to one another in the cheeriest voices : "We're so glad! we're so glad! We're of some ac- count, after all!" Leander S. Keyser. Name the flowers mentioned in this lesson. Name five other flowers. Tell the story of the Homely Weeds. Name five so-called weeds which are useful, and tell their uses. pan ta loon§' re piib^li can hab^i ttide tor^toise wdt)d^chiick LESSON VII. o^ri ole pick^er el Hes per'i de§ a/ti §an§ ar ehi tec'tur al bap'ti§m§ . es chew^ing . ho rf zon (es chu^ing) or^ei^es tra THE BAREFOOT BOY. John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892), the Quaker poet, was born at Haverhill, Massachu- setts. He never went to college, but had two years of schooling at the Haverhill Academy. He spent the most of his life in the State in which he was born. He wrote much poetry, and his name is beloved by all Americans as that of a true, gentle, kindly man who loved all mankind. 1. Blessings on thee, little man, Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan ! j. g. whittier. With thy turned-up pantaloons, And thy merry whistled tunes ; With thy red lips, redder still, Kissed by strawberries on the hill; 38 THE CKANE FOUKTH READER. With the sunshine on thy face, Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace; From my heart I give thee joy— I was once a barefoot boy! 2. Prince thou art — the grown-up man Only is republican. Let the million-dollared ride! Barefoot, trudging at his side, Thou hast more than he can buy, In the reach of ear and eye— , Outward sunshine, inward joy; Blessings on thee, barefoot boy! 3. Oh, for boyhood's painless play, Sleep that wakes in laughing day. Health that mocks the doctor's rules. Knowledge never learned of schools, Of the wild bee's morning chase, Of the wild flower's time and place. Flight of fowl, and habitude Of the tenants of the wood ; How the tortoise bears his shell, How the woodchuck digs his cell. And the ground-mole sinks his well ; 4. Plow the robin feeds her young, How the oriole's nest is hung; Where the whitest lilies blow. Where the freshest berries grow. Where the ground-nut trails its vine. Where the wood-grape's clusters shine ; 1 THE CEANE FOURTH EEADER. 39 Of the black wasp's cunning way, Mason of his walls of clay, And the architectural plans Of gray hornet artisans! For, eschewing books and tasks. Nature answers all he asks; Hand in hand with her he walks, Face to face with her he talks, Part and parcel of her joy— Blessings on thee, barefoot boy! 5. Oh, for boyhood's time of June, Crowding years in one brief moon. When all things I heard or saw, Me, their master, waited for. I was rich in flowers and trees. Humming-birds and honey-bees; For my sport the squirrel played. Plied the snouted mole his spade; For my taste the blackberry cone Purpled over hedge and stone; Laughed the brook for my delight. Through the day and through the night. Whispering at the garden wall. Talked with me from fall to fall. 6. Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond. Mine the walnut slopes beyond. Mine, on bending orchard trees. Apples of Hesperides! 40 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. Still, as my horizon grew, Larger grew my riches, too; All the world I saw or knew Seemed a complex Chinese toy, Fashioned for a barefoot boy ! 7. Oh, for festal dainties spread. Like my bowl of milk and bread — Pewter spoon, and bowl of wood. On the door-stone, gray and rude! O'er me, like a regal tent. Cloudy-ribbed the sunset bent. Purple-curtained, fringed with gold, Looped in many a wind-swung fold ; While for music came the play Of the pied frog's orchestra; And, to light the noisy choir, Lit the fly his lamp of fire. I was monarch: pomp and joy Waited on the barefoot boy! 8. Cheerily, then, my little man. Live and laugh as boyhood can! Though the flinty slopes be hard, Stubble-speared the new-mown sward. Every morn shall lead thee through Fresh baptisms of the dew; Every evening from thy feet Shall the cool wind kiss the heat; 9. All too soon these feet must hide In the prison-cells of pride. THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 41 Lose the freedom of the sod, Like a colt's, for work be shod; Made to tread the mills of toil, Up and down in ceaseless moil; Happy if their track be found Never on forbidden ground; Happy if they sink not in Quick and dangerous sands of sin. Ah! that thou couldst know thy joy. Ere it passes, barefoot boy. John G. Whittieb. What do these lines mean: " Crowding years in one brief moon." " Cloudy-ribbed the sunset bent." " All too soon these feet must hide In the prison-cells of pride." LESSON VIIL po'roiis ge lat^i noiis gir eu la^tion eom press^i ble mm^er al ob scure^ phy- §f clan gl^Q^er me . fi'berg (shun) SPONGE. 1. Sponge is a very porous and compressible substance found adhering to rocks, shells, and other surfaces. It is found in large quantities in the Mediterranean Sea, among the islands of the Archipelago. Good sponges are also found in the Red Sea, on the coast of Florida, and among the Bahama islands. Those from the Greek islands, how- ever, are considered most valuable. 42 THE CKANE FOURTH READER. 2. Formerly, sponge was supposed to be a vegetable pro- duction, but it is now classed among the lowest orders of the animal kingdom, as it yields, when analyzed, the same results as animal substances in general. 3. It is traversed by innumerable pores, the microscope showing the whole network of the sponge to be composed of fine tubes. If examined while in the water, currents may be seen passing out of the larger openings, having proba- bly entered through the smaller pores, thus giving rise to an obscure motion or circulation. 4. As an animal, it lives on the water and what the water holds in solution ; and hence it is probably necessary that water should be constantly circulating through it. 5. In some of the islands of the Archipelago the inhab- itants make it a business to obtain sponges by diving, having been trained to it from their infancy. Other methods are sometimes resorted to, such as spearing or grappling; but they injure the sponges, which cannot easily be detached from the surfaces to which they adhere. 6. They are placed in heaps, under piles of stones, which press them closely together, so that they become hard and flat when dry. The mineral substances are removed by beating the sponge until they are reduced to powder and drop out in washing. After this the sponge is ready for market and use. It is a singular fact that, after the im- purities have been removed, the sponge weighs more than when first taken from the water. 7. Sponges serve a great variety of useful purposes, both in the arts and medicine, and contribute, in many known ways, to cleanliness and comfort. They are of very unequal value, the texture of some being fine and soft, THE CEANE FOURTH READER. 43 while that of others is coarse and rough. Smyrna is a great market, or depot, for sponges. 8. One of the uses to which sponge has been applied is that of making into cloth. The article most used for this is that found on the rocks of the Bahama islands, and the coast of Florida, which is excellent in quality and inex- haustible in quantity. 9. This sponge, when torn from the rock to which it ad- heres, appears at first as a heavy, black-looking mass, with a strong and oif ensive odor. In order to cleanse and purify it, it is buried in the earth for some weeks, at the end of which time all the organic matter will be decomposed. 10. In this state it is liable to become hard and unfit for the manufacturing process. To obviate this, the sponge is immersed in water containing from ten to twenty per cent, of glycerine, and then squeezecl dry, after which it will be entirely soft and elastic. It is then cut into small pieces, subjected to a carding process, and afterwards felted. Only certain qualities of sponge are capable of being spun into yarn for weaving. 11. The felted sponge may be used for hat bodies, car- pets, etc. The sponge cloth for clothing is made in the same manner as " shoddy." Sponge may be used in textile fabrics, either with or without the admixture of other fibers, such as wool and hair. Sponge has of late been con- siderably used as a material for stuffing furniture, mat- tresses, cushions, pillows, etc. The surgeon, physician, chemist, and many others, find frequent and numerous uses for this valuable article. 4:4 THE CEANE FOURTH READER. LESSON^ IX. ker'chM ob^sta ele nes'tled Ni€/i^6 las €owrs'er§ danced liis'ter this^^k (danst) hiii-'ri eane shut'ter§ UTea'ture THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS. 'T WAS the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care. In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; The children were nestled all snug in their beds. While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads. And mamma in her kerchief and I in my cap. Had just settled ourselves for a long winter's nap; When out on the lawn there rose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter ; Away to the window I flew like a flash. Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash; The moon, on the breast of the new-fallen snow, Gave a luster of midday to objects below; When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer, With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled and shouted and called them by name : " Now, Dasher ! now, Dancer ! now, Prancer and Vixen ! On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Dunder and Blitzen! THE CRANE FOUETH KEADER. 45 To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall ! Now, dash away, dash away, dash away, all!" As dry leaves that before the hurricane fly, Wlien they meet with an obstacle mount to the sky, So, up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With a sleigh full of toys — and St Nicholas, too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof; As I drew in my head and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all covered with ashes and soot; A bundle of toys he had thrown on his back. And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack ; His eyes, how they twinkled ! his dimples, how merry, His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry; His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow. And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow! He was chubby and plump— a right jolly old elf; And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, « And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk. And sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle. And away they all flew like the down of a thistle ; But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight, " Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night." Clement C. Moobe. 46 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. ar riv'al jom'nef fa tigued' trav'el ing Yow'ing gender ous LESSOI^ X. in quiring- (m kwlr'mg) im me^di ate ly bis ^€ wit awkVard (akVerd) eJiYisfen dom fm ga.ri t^ po lige^ per se ver^ange pair! ot i§m ger'tam ty BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. FRANKLIN'S ARRIVAL AT PHILADELPHIA. Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790), one of America's great men, began life as a printer. His first writing was for his brother's paper. At the age of 17 he went to Philadelphia, and continued to work as a printer. Later, in 1729, he established The Saturday Evening Post, the oldest newspaper now existing in America. He wrote many valuable essays, and for twenty-five years printed a work called Poor Richard's Al- manac. He was sent by the United States to Eng- land and France, where he did so well that both countries had greater respect for our nation. He is the great example of what a poor boy in America may become if he is honest and willing to work. 1. On my arrival at Philadelphia, I was in my working dress, my best clothes being to come round by sea. I was dirty from my journey; my pockets were stuffed out with shirts and stockings. I did not know a soul in the place, nor where to look for lodging. 2. I was fatigued with traveling, rowing, and want of rest. I was very hungry, and my whole stock in cash con- sisted of a Dutch dollar, and about a shilling in copper. The latter I gave to the people of the boat for my passage, who at first refused it on account of my rowing; but I insisted on their taking it ; a man being sometimes more I THE CRANE FOUETH READER. 47 generous when he has but a little money than when he has plenty — perhaps through fear of being thought to have but little. 3. Then I walked up the street, gazing about, till near the market-house I met a boy with bread. I had made many a meal on bread, and inquiring where he got it, I went immediately to the baker's he directed me to, in Second street, and asked for biscuit, intending sucli as we had in Boston ; but they, it seems, were not made in Philadelphia. 4. Then I asked for a threepenny loaf, and was told they had none such. So, not considering or knowing the great difference of money, and the great cheapness nor the names of his bread, I bade him give me threepenny worth of any sort. He gave me accordingly three great puffy rolls. 5. I was surprised at the quantity, but took it, and, hav- ing no room in my pockets, walked off with a roll under each arm, and eating the other. Thus I went up Market street as far as Fourth, passing by the door of Mr. Read, my future wife's father, when she, standing at the door, saw me, and thought I made, as I certainly did, a most awkward, ridiculous appearance. 6. Then 1 turned and went down Chestnut street and part of Walnut, eating my roll all the way, and, coming round, found myself again at Market street wharf, near the boat I came in, to which I went for a draught of the river- water; and, being filled with one of my rolls, gave the other two to a woman and her child that came down the river in the boat with us, and were waiting to go farther. 7. Thus refreshed, I walked again up the street, which 48 THE CKANE FOURTH READER. by this time had many clean, well-dressed people in it, who were all walking the same way. I joined them, and thereby was led into the great meeting-house of the Quakers near the market. I sat down among them, and, after looking round awhile and hearing nothing said, being very drowsy through labor and want of rest the preceding night, I fell fast asleep, and continued so till the meeting broke up, when one was kind enough to rouse me. This was, therefore, the first house I was in, or slept in, in Philadelphia. 8. ^^ This story is Franklin's history as a boy of the middle class,'' says one writer, "successfully but indus- triously working his way upward, that has made it at once the most attractive and most useful biography of modern times. 9. ''All over Christendom it has met with the sympathy of the working classes, and it has done more than any other writing within my knowledge to give courage and heart to the sons of labor, as it has shown that the paths of ambition are open to them as to others, provided they be followed with Franklin's virtues— honesty, frugality, perseverance, and patriotism. 10. "What a contrast between the influence of such a biography as this, and that of a man whose life is only great for success in bloodshed, or even in crime and wickedness. How much the world owes to Franklin ! " How was Franklin dressed when he reached Philadelphia? How much money had he? What was the first thing that he bought after reaching Philadelphia? What was the first house in which he slept there? What has been said of " Franklin's history as a boy "? What do you know of Franklin from reading this story? THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 49 LESSON XL re mem'ber sharp^ened ras'eal a€ eost^ed eiis^tom er§ re speet^a ble eom^pli ment at tach^ment de Itid^ed flat'ter y tru^ant qual i fi ea^tion blis^tered nier^chaiit grmd^stone TURNING THE GRINDSTONE. 1. When I was a little boy, I remember, one cold win- ter's morning, that I was accosted by a smiling man with an axe on his shoulder. " My pretty boy,'' said he, " has your father a grindstone? " " Yes, sir," said I. " You are a fine little fellow," said he; "will you let me grind my axe on it!" Pleased with the compliment of "fine little fellow," "Oh, yes, sir," I answered; "it is down in the shop." 2. "And will you, my man," said he, patting me on the head, " get me a little hot water ? " How could I re- fuse f I ran, and soon brought it. "How old are youf and what 's your name 1 " continued he ; without waiting for a reply : " I am sure you are one of the finest boys I have ever seen ; will you just turn a few minutes for me? " 3. Pleased with the flattery, I went to work, and bitterly did I rue the day. It was a new axe, and I toiled and tugged till I was almost tired to death. The school-bell rang, and I could not get away ; my hands were blistered, and the axe was not half ground. 4. At length, however, it was sharpened ; and the man turned to me with, " Now, you little rascal, you Ve played truant ; run to school, or you '11 rue it I " " Alas ! " thought 50 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. I, " it was hard enough to turn a grindstone this cold day ; but now to be called a little rascal, is too much." 5. It sank deep in my mind, and often have I thought of it since. When I see a merchant over-polite to his customers, begging them to take a little brandy, and throw- ing his goods on the counter, I think, " That man has an axe to grind." 6. When I see a man flattering the people, making great professions of attachment to liberty, but in private life a tyrant, I think, ^'Look out, good people! That fellow would set you turning grindstones." When I see a man lifted into office by party spirit, without one qualification to render him either respectable or useful, "Alas!" I think, "deluded people, you are doomed for a season to turn the grindstone for a booby." Benjamin Franklin. Hateful to me, as are the gates of hell. Is he who, hiding one thing in his heart. Utters another. — Bryant. Of all the evil spirits abroad at this hour in the world, insincerity is the most dangerous. — Froude. An evil soul, producing holy witness. Is like a villain with a smiling cheek; A goodly apple, rotten at the heart : O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath! — Shakespeare. THE CEANE FOURTH READER. 61 lesso:n' xil m hermits hinds em ploy^ment gar^ments mus^de§ . searge hermit age sin^ew y hard^i er fae'to ry (sm^u y) be ni^n^ stom^ae^ ad judged' Miv'ship THE HERITAGE. James Russell Lowell (1819-1891) all his life called one house his home. This house was named Elmwood, and was in Cambridge, Massa- chusetts. He was educated at Harvard College, and was at one time a teacher in this school. He was the first editor of the Atlantic Monthly, and later he edited the North American Review. He was sent as minister to Spain in 1877, and to England in 1880. He wrote many fine prose works and many beautiful poems. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 1. The rich man's son inherits lands, And piles of brick and stone and gold And he inherits soft white hands, And tender flesh that fears the cold, Nor dares to wear a garment old : A heritage, it seems to me. One scarce would wish to hold in fee. 2. The rich man's son inherits cares ; The bank may break, the factory burn, A breath may burst his bubble shares. And soft white hands could hardly earn A living that would serve his turn : 62 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. A heritage, it seems to me, One scarce would wish to hold in fee. 3. The rich man's son inherits wants, His stomach craves for dainty fare ; With sated heart, he hears the pants Of toiling hinds with brown arms bare, And wearies in his easy-chair : A heritage, it seems to me. One scarce would wish to hold in fee. 4. What doth the poor man's son inherit? Stout muscles and a sinewy heart, A hardy frame, a hardier spirit; King of two hands, he does his part In every useful toil and art: A heritage, it seems to me, A king might wish to hold in fee. 5. What doth the poor man's son inherit? Wishes o'er joyed with humble things, A rank adjudged by toil-won merit, Content that from employment springs, A heart that in its labor sings: A heritage, it seems to me, A king might wish to hold in fee. 6. What doth the poor man's son inherit? A patience learned of being poor. Courage, if sorrow come, to bear it, A fellow-feeling, that is sure To make the outcast bless his door: THE CKANE FOURTH EEADER. 63 A heritage, it seems to me, A king might wish to hold in fee. 7. rich man's son! there is a toil That with all others level stands ; Large charity doth never soil, But only whiten, soft white hands. This is the best crop from thy lands : A heritage, it seems to me, Worth being rich to hold in fee. 8. poor man's son ! scorn not thy state ; There is worse weariness than thine. In merely being rich and great; Toil only makes the soul to shine. And makes rest fragrant and benign : A heritage, it seems to me. Worth being poor to hold in fee. 9. Both, heirs to some six feet of sod. Are equal in the earth at last; Both, children of the same dear God, Prove title to your heirship vast By record of a well-filled past : A heritage, it seems to me. Well worth a life to hold in fee. James Russell Lowell. Give the meaning of these lines: "And wearies in his easy-chair;" " A breath may burst his bubble shares ; " " King of two hands ; " " A heart that in its labor sings ; " " To make the outcast bless his door." 54 THE CKANE FOUKTH KEADER. LESSOIST XIII. mu'§i€ daf fo dil§ man'tle§ mes^sage vi^o lets sway'mg €ro^€us blue'bird lis'ten THE BLUEBIRD. 1. I KNOW the song that the bluebird is singing, Out in the apple-tree where he is swinging. Brave little fellow! the skies may be dreary, — Nothing cares he while his heart is so cheery. 2. Hark ! how the music leaps out from his throat ! Hark ! was there ever so merry a note ! Listen awhile, and you '11 hear what he 's saying, Up in the apple-tree swinging and swaying : 3. " Dear little blossoms down under the snow. You must be weary of winter, I know ; Hark while I sing you a message of cheer 1 Summer is coming ! and spring-time is here ! 4. "Little white snowdrop! I pray you arise; Bright yellow crocus ! come, open your eyes ; Sweet little violets, hid from the cold. Put on your mantles of purple and gold ; Daffodils ! daffodils ! say, do you hear 1 — Summer is coming ! and spring-time is here ! '' Emily Huntington Miller. Describe the bluebird. What are its habits? THE CKANE FOUKTH READER. 65 LESSOIsT XIV. in terri ty- a chieve' eor po ra^tion pos ses^sions tri^umphs man kind^ (poz zesh'iinz) (trfiimfs) av^e nue a€ qvLire' in dis pen^sa bk • €ap'i tal op por tti'ni ty- in vin^gi bk Qit^i zen ship WILLIAM M'KINLEY. INTEGRITY AND INDUSTRY. William McKinley (1843-1901) was born at Niles, Ohio. He served four years in the Civil War. Afterward he was sent to Congress. He was then made Governor of Ohio, and twice made President of the United States. He was shot and killed at Buffalo, New York, in Sep- tember, 1901. Integrity and industry are the best possessions any man can have; and every man can have them. Nobody can give them to him or take them from him. He cannot acquire them by inheritance; he cannot buy them or beg them or borrow them. They are his unquestioned property. He alone can part with them. They are good to have and to keep. They make happy homes; they achieve success in every walk of life; they have won the greatest triumphs for mankind. No man who has them ever gets into the police court or before the grand jury or in the workhouse or the chain-gang. They give one moral and material power. They will give you a comfortable living, make you respect yourself, and command the respect of your fellows. They are indispensable to success. They are invincible. The mer- 56 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. chant requires the clerk whom he employs to have them. The railroad corporation inquires whether the man seek- ing employment possesses them. Every avenue of human endeavor welcomes them. They are the only keys to open with certainty the door of opportunity to struggling man- hood. Employment waits on them ; capital requires them ; citizenship is not good without them. If you do not al- ready have them, get them. William McKinley. LESSON XV. vai^lt^ed van'quished sen^su al siim^mit re §61ve^ (sen'shu al) de po§ed^ sor^did sap'phire as pire^ mas'tered GRADATION. (safir) JosiAH Gilbert Holland (1819-1881) is best known as editor of Scribner^s Magazine. He was a doctor of medicine, but his books made him famous in America. His best-known works are: Bitter-Sweet, Kathrina, Arthur Bonnicastle, and Miss Gilbert's Career. 1. Heaven is not reached at a single bound ; But we build the ladder by which we rise From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, And we mount to the summit round by round. J. G. HOLLAND. THE CEANE FOUETH EEADER. 57 2. I count this thing to be grandly true : That a noble deed is a step toward God, Lifting the soul from the common sod To a purer air and a broader view. 3. We rise by things that are under our feet; By what we have mastered of good and gain, By the pride deposed and the passion slain. And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet. 4. We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we trust. When the morning calls us to life and light ; But our hearts grow weary, and ere the night Our lives are trailing the sordid dust. 5. We hope, we resolve, we aspire, we pray. And we think that we mount the air on wings. Beyond the recall of sensual things. While our feet still cling to the heavy clay. 6. Only in dreams is a ladder thrown From the weary earth to the sapphire walls ; But the dreams depart, and the vision falls, And the sleeper awakes on his pillow of stone. 7. Heaven is not reached at a single bound; But we build the ladder by which we rise From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, And we mount to the summit round by round. JosiAH Gilbert Holland. Repeat from memory the best verse in this lesson. 58 THE CKANE FOURTH READER. LESSON^ XYI. eat'er pil lar €0 €oon^ eMo'ro form par^a graph glo^ri oils €ol lee'tion WYig'gled gender al ex qWM waiter-proof speg^i men§ flti^id STORY OF THE BUTTERFLY. 1. I WAS at play in the garden one cold antnmn morning, when I saw a large caterpillar on the north-side fence. It wriggled and twisted about in such a funny way, that I stopped my play and watched it. 2. It drew out of its mouth a sticky fluid, and with it painted its whole body. All the boys soon came about me, and as we were sure it was a chance to learn something of butterfly life, we sent to ask my aunt to come, too. 3. She told us the butterfly was spinning a sticky thread, that would harden by-and-by and serve him in two ways. It would hold him to the fence when he lost the power to hold himself, and make a coat to keep out the wet and the cold while he was taking his winter's nap. 4. We thought that what kept out the cold would keep out the air, too, and did not see what was to save the poor creature from stifling. Before he had finished his water- proof coat it seemed more like a tomb than the covering of a living thing. One of the boys thought he would rest from breathing, perhaps, as indeed he did, so far as any- one could see. 5. One day I cut the cocoon from the fence and put it on the shelf in my room, and then, boy-like, forgot the whole matter. THE CRANE FOUETH READER. 59 6. But there came a summer morning, when, as I was dressing in my room, I heard a little pecking sound. I thought it was a hungry mouse, but as I chanced to come near the shelf, to my surprise the caterpillar cocoon was shaking, and from one end something was pushing itself out. 7. It proved to be a sharp point pushing to make an opening. Very soon a head appeared, and after a few more violent wriggles a glorious butterfly presented itself. 8. I well remember how excited I became, as, half dressed, I ran through the house begging all the family to come to see the strangest thing that had ever happened yet. 9. I can see the creature now, in my mind. It was of a yellowish-brown color, and its wings when spread were fully three inches from tip to tip, while its body was more than an inch long. Both body and wings were covered with scales. 10. With what delight I found its two horns, and saw it thrust out and draw back its hollowed tongue. I kept it for many years, though to do so I had to shorten its little life. 11. it was this that gave me my first interest in the study of insects. Did I ever tell you of one of Napoleon Bona- parte's generals, who took such delight in getting speci- mens of butterflies'? " No, papa, I am sure you never did. Is it a true story? " Yes, little Jack, a true story. 12. Whenever this general led his soldiers out in new countries, he looked for new kinds of insects, and when one was found he pinned it upon his hat. The soldiers were used to seeing their general's hat, even in battles, 60 THE CKANE FOUKTH READER. adorned with his treasures, bright butterflies and shining bugs. 13. During a battle, while at Napoleon's side, a shot struck the general's head and threw him unconscious from his horse. Napoleon asked anxiously, " Is he still alive ? " He answered as soon as he could, "I am alive, but, alas, my insects are all gone," for his hat was torn to pieces. 14. " That 's a nice story,'' said Harry, " but it seems cruel to kill the poor things." We should not get our pleasure at the expense of pain to the poor insects, but these little creatures have but a short, gay life at the best. If we wish to study them ourselves or to show others their wonderful varieties and beauties, it seems to me right to shorten the life a little, since it can be done without pain. 15. "How can it, papa?" asked Harry. Do you remember taking chloroform, and knowing nothing while your broken arm was being set? 16. "Indeed I do." Well, if you had taken too much you would never have had the power to awake. That is what happens to the butterfly. All that he knows is lighting on a sponge and feeling sleepy. The overdose takes his life. 17. " May we begin to make a collection? " Yes, if you do it to learn, and not for the mere pleasure of having something pretty to look at. Tell the story of the caterpillar. What are the thoughts in the fourth and fifth paragraphs? What was heard one summer morning? What is the meaning of cocoon? What did the boy do with the cocoon? What finally came out of it? THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 61 LESSON XVII. meas^ured jew^eled dark'ened (mezh tved) (j^eld) shroud'ed Yi'ot ous charige rb^e^wdbd thresh'old eoVtage eas^ket MEASURING THE BABY. We measured the riotous baby Against the cottage wall; A lily grew at the threshold, And the boy was just as tall : A royal tiger-lily, With spots of purple and gold. And a heart like a jeweled chalice, The fragrant dew to hold. Without, the blackbird whistled, High up in the old elm trees. And to and fro at the window The red rose rocked her bees; And the small pink fists of the baby Were never a moment still. Catching at shine and shadow That danced on the window sill. 3. Ah, me! In a darkened chamber. With the sunshine shut away. Through tears that fell like bitter rain. We measured the baby to-day. 62 THE CKANE FOURTH READER. And the little bare feet that were dimpled, And sweet as a budding rose, Lay side by side together, In the hush of a long repose. 4. Up from the snowy pillow, White as the morning dawn, A fair little face lay smiling, With the light of heaven thereon ; And the dear little hands, like rose-leaves Dropped from the rose, lay still. Never to catch at the sunshine That crept to the shrouded sill. 5. We measured the sleeping baby With ribbons white as snow. For the shining rosewood casket That waited him below. And out of the darkened chamber We went with a childless moan: To the height of the sinless angels Our dear little one had grown. Emma Alice Browne. Tell in your own language the story of measuring the baby. Which stanza do you like the best? They are idols of hearts and of households; They are angels of God in disguise. — Dickinson. Ah! what would the world be to us. If the children were no more? We should dread the desert behind us Worse than the dark before. — Longfellow. THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 63 LESSON" XVIII. stogie in €li na'tion Ma hom^et an eq^ui page ap pear^ange mns tach^eg (ek^wipaj) haz^ardg (tash) ttm breria mon'stroiis CRUSOE'S HOME. 1. It would have made a stoic smile to see me and my little family seated at dinner. There was my majesty, myself, prince and lord of the whole island; I had the lives of all my subjects at my command; I could hang, draw, give liberty, and take it away ; and no rebels were to be found in all my kingdom. 2. Then to see, too, how like a king I dined, all alone, attended by my servants. Poll, as if he had been my favorite, was the only person permitted to talk to me. My dog, who was now grown very old and crazy, sat always at my right hand ; and the two cats used to take seats, one on one side of the table and one on the other, expecting now and then a bit from my hand, as a mark of special favor. 3. With this attendance, and in this plentiful manner, I lived. Neither could I be said to want anything but society ; and of that, some time afterward, I was likely to have too much. 4. I was something impatient, as I have observed, to have the use of my boat, though very loath to run any more hazards ; and therefore sometimes I sat myself down contented enough without it. But I had a strange uneasi- ness in my mind to go down to the point of the island, where, in my last ramble, I went up the hill to see how the shore lay, and how the current set, that I might see 64 THE CKANE FOUETH READEK. what I had to do. This inclination increased upon me every day, and at length I resolved to travel thither by land, following the edge of the shore. I did so, but had anyone in England met then such a wild man as I was, such a meeting must either have frightened him or have raised a great deal of laughter ; and whenever I thought of my appearance, I could not but smile at the notion of my traveling through Yorkshire with such an equipage and in such a dress. Be pleased to take a sketch of my figure, as follows : 5. I had a great high, shapeless cap, made of goatskin, with a flap hanging down behind, as well to keep the sun from me as to shoot the rain off from running into my neck, nothing being so hurtful in these climates as the rain upon the flesh, under the clothes. 6. I had a short jacket, also of goatskin, the skirts com- ing down to about the middle of the thighs, and a pair of open-kneed breeches of the same. The breeches were made of the skin of an old goat. The hair of this skin hung down such a length on either side that, like pantaloons, it reached to the middle of my legs. Stockings and shoes I had none, but I had made me a pair of some things, I scarce know what to call them, but they were like buskins, and flapped over my legs, and were laced on either side, like spatter- dashes, but they were of a most barbarous shape, as in- deed were all the rest of my clothes. 7. I had on a broad belt of goatskin, dried, which I drew together with two thongs of the same, instead of buckles ; and in a kind of frog on either side of this, in- stead of a sword and dagger, hung a little saw and hatchet, one on one side and one on the other. I had another belt, THE CEANE FOURTH READER. 65 not SO broad, and fastened in the same manner, which hung over my shoulder ; and at the end of it, under my left arm, hung two pouches, both made of goatskin, too, in one of which hung my powder, in the other my shot. At my back I carried my basket, and on my shoulder my gun, and over my head a great clumsy goatskin umbrella. This was the most necessary thing I had about me, next to my gun. As for my face, the color of it was really not so mulatto-like as one might expect from a man not at all care- ful of it, and living within nine or ten degrees of the equa- tor. My beard I had once suffered to grow till it was about a quarter of a yard long, but as I had both scissors and razors sufficient, I had cut it pretty short, except what grew on my upper lip, which I had trimmed into a large pair of Mahometan whiskers, such as I had seen worn by some Turks at Sallee, for the Moors did not wear such, though the Turks did. Of these mustaches or whiskers, I will not say they were long enough to hang my hat upon them, but they were of a length and shape monstrous enough, and such as in England would have passed for frightful. 8. When I got to the boat, I could not help recalling the dangers of my former voyage, and my spirits sunk at thought of another. So I resolved to build me a new canoe. After doing this, I then had a boat for each side of the island, and I felt more secure. Daniel Defoe. What is a stoic? What are buskins? What is meant by Mahometan whiskers? 66 THE CEANE FOtTBTH READER. LESSON^ XIX. €at'a ra€t bungle splen^dor (der] THE BUGLE-SONG. 1. The splendor falls on castle walls, And snowy summits old in story; The IcTng light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. 2. Oh, hark, oh, hark ! how thin and clear. And thinner, clearer, farther going ! Oh, sweet and far from cliff and scar, The horns of Elfland faintly blowing ! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying : Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. 3. love, they die in yon rich sky. They faint on hill or field or river : Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying. And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. Alfred Tennyson. How could the light shake across the lakes? What is meant by Elfland? How can echoes grow forever? THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 67 LESSON XX. siir round'mg €iit'tk-fish spokes or na men'tal swim^mmg squid§ vfo lent ly- op er action eloud^ing leatii'er f squirt'ing suck^er§ A BABY CUTTLE-FISH, 1. There is a queer baby that lives in the sea. Without fins, he can swim ; without feet, he can walk ; and without wings, he can shoot through the water as a bird through the air. He has no hands, yet no creature can cling better than he ; he is so soft that a rope will cut him in two, and he has but one bone in his body, yet he feeds upon live fish and other creatures that he catches and kills for himself. 2. Though he has no legs, he has arms, and they grow out of the top of his head, surrounding his mouth like the spokes of a wheel. These fishes have eight arms, and some 6$ d'Hf: CKANE FOtTMH ti:BAt)EIl. of them ten, and they have been seen to use them as legs, walking on the tips, and looking like large spiders. 3. They have also many names. Some people call them cuttle-fish ; fishermen call them squids, and in stories they are devil-fish. 4. This queer baby was caught alive on our coast. You can tell by the picture how he looked when swimming, with all his arms straight out before his head, so as to go easily through the water. 5. On the under side of his body, just behind the arms, is a small tube which takes the place of feet and wings and fins. It acts as a sort of pump, and he moves by vio- lently squirting water from it. As you will also see by the picture of the larger fish, generally it points forward, and the pumping operation sends him backward, which is his favorite way of traveling ; but the tube can be turned any way, and he can shoot sideways, or even straight for- ward if he likes. 6. Inside the body is also another important thing, a bag of black fluid, and when the creature wishes to hide he sends some of this fluid out through the tube, thus cloud- ing the water so that he cannot be seen. 7. Along the under side of the leathery arms are points which look like rows of buttons. One might easily think them ornamental, but so far from that, they are the most useful things he has. They are what he holds on by — they are suckers. Where one of these innocent-looking buttons touches anything, there it sticks, and cannot be pulled away. 8. On some of the family the suckers have around the edge a horny ring with points like saw-teeth sticking up. TnE CKANE FOUKTH READER. «0 and when the sucker takes hold, the sharp teeth cut into the flesh of the victim. But the little ones have only soft, leathery suckers, though they can hold on to an object wonderfully. 9. These curious fellows are often caught on our coast, and when brought up without being hurt, have been kept alive several days. This one of which I have been telling lived in a pan — where he could be studied. Have you ever seen a cuttle-fish? Give the different names applied to it. What means does the fish use for propelling the body through the water? How does it take its food? Write on a slate some of the things you have learned about a cuttle-fish. Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,- Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. — Bryant. And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward; from a boy I wanton'd with thy breakers. -Byron. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore. — Byron- Children are we Of the restless sea. Swelling in anger or sparkling in glee; We follow and race, In shifting chase. Over the boundless ocean-space! — Bayard Taylor, 70 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. LESSON^ XXI. ex traor^di nary flor'ins chig^d ing (eks tror'di na r^) fawn s^iilp'tor ma/vel oils muge^iim ap pren'tige A STORY OF MICHAEL ANGELO. 1. When Michael Angelo was twelve years of age, al- though he had had no instruction in art he produced a piece of work which greatly pleased a famous Florentine painter of that day. This artist at once declared that the lad must have a chance to develop the extraordinary genius that even then promised to astonish the world with its grandeur. 2. Michael had long wished to be a painter or a sculptor, but he had no hope that his father, who was a distinguished man in the state, and held art and artists in contempt, would listen to any suggestions on the subject. He had planned a great political career for his son, as the boy well knew. 3. Fortunately for Michael Angelo and for the world, the painter who sought to befriend the lad was too enthusiastic to be easily baffled in any pursuit. He once visited the father, and asked him to let Michael follow the profession best suited to the marvelous genius so early displayed. 4. The father said to MichaePs patron : ^' I give up my son to you. He shall be your apprentice or your servant, as you please, for three years, and you must pay me twenty-four florins for his services.'' 5. In spite of the insulting words and the insulting terms, Michael Angelo consented to be hir^d out as a THE CRANE FOUETH READER. 71 servant to the artist, who should have been paid by his father for teaching him. 6. When Michael Angelo had worked at his art about two years, he went one day to the Gardens of St. Mark, where the Prince Lorenzo de' Medici — the illustrious patron of art in Florence — had established a rich museum at great expense. 7. One of the workmen in the garden gave the boy per- mission to try his hand at copying some of the statues, and Michael, who had hitherto studied only painting, was glad of a chance to experiment with the chisel, preferring that to the brush. 8. He chose for his model an ancient figure of a faun, which was somewhat mutilated ; the mouth of the marble image was entirely broken off. But the boy was very self- reliant, and trifles did not trouble him. He worked day after day with his chisel, creating for his faun a mouth of his own imagining, — the lips parted in laughter, and the teeth displayed. 9. When he had finished and was looking at his work, a man standing near asked whether he might offer a criti- cism. '' Yes," answered the boy, ^' if it is a just one." " Of that you shall be the judge," said the man. "Very well. What is it?" 10. " The forehead of your faun is old, but the mouth is young. See, it has a full set of perfect teeth. A faun so old as this one is would not have perfect teeth," said the stranger, looking very gravely into the face of the young sculptor. 72 THE CKANE FOUKTH KEADEK. 11. The lad admitted the justice of the criticism, smiled at the thought of his blunder, and proceeded to remedy the defect by chipping away two or three of the teeth, and chiseling the gums so as to give them a shriveled appear- ance. 12. The next morning, when Michael went to remove his faun from the garden, it was gone. He searched every- where for it, but without success. The workmen, who had been very much interested in the boy's labor, could not tell what had become of the statue. Finally, seeing the man who had made the suggestion about the teeth, Michael asked him where it was. 13. "If you will follow me,'' replied the man, "I will show you where it is." " You must give it back to me ! I made it, and have a right to it." And the bright eyes of Michael Angelo flashed with all the pride of ownership. " Oh, if you must have it, you shall," was the reply. 14. Then the stranger led the way into the palace of the prince, and there, among the most precious works of art in the collection, stood the faun. What did Michael Angelo do when he became a man? I THE CKANE FOUKTH READER. 73 LESSOR XXII. sil€ Qes5^ful black^ber rie§ ^m ploy^er§ ki^ch^en ex pe^ri enge busi^ness washing torer a bly (biz^nes) STICK TO YOUR BUSH. 1. A RICH man, in answer to the question how he became so successful, gave the following story: " I will tell you how it was. One day when I was a boy, a number of boys and girls were going to a pasture at some distance to pick berries. I wanted to go with them, but was afraid my father would not let me. 2. " When I told him what was going on, he at once said I could go too, and my joy was great. I rushed into the kitchen, got a big basket, and asked mother for some din- ner. 3. " I had the basket on my arm, and was just going out of the gate, when my father called me back. He took hold of my hand and said in a very gentle voice : ^^ Joseph, what are you going for — to pick berries, or to playV ^To pick berries,' I said. ^ Then let me tell you one thing : "When you find a pretty good bush, do not leave it to find a better one. 4. " ^ The other boys and girls will run about, picking a little here and a little there, wasting a great deal of time and not getting many berries. If you do as they do, you will come home with an empty basket. If you want ber- ries, stick to your bush.' 5. " I went with the rest, and we had a fine time. But it was just as my father said. No sooner had one found 74 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. a good bush than he called all the rest, and they left their several places and ran off to the new-found treasure. 6. " Not content more than a minute or two in one place, they rambled over the whole pasture, got very tired, and at night had very few berries. My father's words kept ringing in my ears, and I ^ stuck to my bush.' When I had done with one I found another, and finished that; then I took another. 7. "When night came, I had a large basketful of nice berries, more than all the others put together, and was not half so tired as they were. I went home happy. But when I entered I found my father had been taken ill. He looked at my basketful of ripe blackberries, and said, ^ Well done, Joseph. Was it not just as I told you? Always stick to your bush.' 8. " He died in a few days after, and I had to make my way in the world as best I could. But my father's words sank deep into my mind, and I never forgot the experience of the berry party ; I ^ stuck to my bush.' 9. "When I had a fair place, and was doing tolerably well, I did not leave it and spend weeks and months in finding one a little better. When other young men said, ' Come with us, and we will make our fortune in a few weeks,' I shook my head, and ^ stuck to my bush.' 10. " Soon my employers offered to take me into busi- ness with them. I stayed with the old house until they died, and then I had everything I wanted. The habit of sticking to my business led people to trust me, and gave me a character. I owe all I have and all I am to these words: 'Stick to your bush.'" " stick to your bush." What does it mean? THE CKANE FOUKTH KEADEK. 75 LESSOR XXIII. ser'mon stu^pid fur'nage preached re lu^^tant ra^di a tor (precht) sawn'tered de^po^ wim^bly €Ock^k§ ro man'ti« A PLEASANT INCIDENT. Louisa M. Alcott (1832-1888) was a lover of children, and wrote many stories for young people. She served as hospital nurse in Wash- ington two years during the Civil War. Her best- known books are: Little Men, Little Women, Under the Lilacs, and An Old-Fashioned Girl. 1. Sitting in a depot, the other day, I had a little sermon preached in the way I like ; and I '11 tell it to you for your good, because it taught one of the lessons which we all should learn, and taught it in such a way that no one could forget it. 2. It was a cold, snowy day, the train was late, the ladies' room dark and smoky, and the dozen women, old and young, who sat waiting, all looked cross or stupid; I was sure I felt both. 3. Just then a poor old woman came in with a basket of small things to sell, and went about offering them to the people. No one bought anything, and the poor old soul stood at the door a minute, as if reluctant to go out into the hard storm again. 4. Soon she turned and sauntered slowly about the room, as if trying to find something; and then a pale lady in black, who lay as if asleep, opened her eyes, saw LOUISA M. ALCOTT. '?'6 THE CKANE FOUETH READER. the old woman, and immediately asked in a kind tone: ^^Have you lost anything, ma'am!" 5. " No, dear. I'm looking for the heatin' place, to have a warm 'fore I goes out again. My eyes is poor, and I don't seem to find the furnace nowhere." 6. "Here it is," and the lady led her to the radiator, placed a chair, and showed her how to warm her feet. 7. "Well, now, isn't that nice!" said the old woman, spreading her ragged mittens to dry. "Thankee, dear; this is proper comfortable, isn't it! I'm 'most froze to- day, bein' lame and wimbly ; and not selling much makes me kind of downhearted." 8. The lady smiled, bought a cup of tea and some sort of food, carried it herself to the old woman, and said, as respectfully and kindly as if the poor woman had been dressed in silk, "Won't you have a cup of hot tea! It's very cheering such a day as this." 9. " Sakes alive! do they give tea at this depot! " cried the old lady, in a tone of innocent surprise that made a smile go around the room, touching the gloomiest face like a line of sunlight. "Well, now, this is just nice," she added, drinking away with delight. "This does warm the cockles of my heart ! " 10. While she refreshed herself, telling her story mean- while, the lady looked over the poor little goods in the basket, bought soap and pins, shoestrings and tape, and cheered the old soul by paying well for them. 11. As I watched her doing this, I thought what a sweet face she had, though I'd thought her rather plain before. I felt very much ashamed of myself that I had shaken my head when the basket was offered to me; and as I THE CRANE FOURTH READER. *t1 saw the look of sympathy come into the dull faces all around me, I did wish that I had been the one to call it out. 12. It was only a kind word and a friendly act, but somehow it brightened that dark room wonderfully. It changed the faces of a dozen women, and I think it touched a dozen hearts, for I saw many eyes follow the plain, pale lady with sudden respect; and when the old woman got up to go, several persons bought something, as if they wanted to repair their first negligence. 13. Old beggar-women are not romantic; neither are cups of tea, boot-laces, and colored soap. There were no gentlemen present to be impressed with the lady's kind act, so it was not done for effect, and no possible reward could be received for it except the thanks of a ragged old woman. 14. But that simple little kindness was as good as a sermon to those who saw it, and I think each one went on her way better for that half -hour in the gloomy depot. I know one of them did, and nothing but the emptiness of her purse prevented her from " comforting the cockles of the heart '' of every poor old woman she met for a week ^^l-^^* Louisa M. Alcott. Tell of some kind deed you have witnessed within the last week. Was there a sermon in it? How? We are much bound to them that do succeed; But, in a more pathetic sense, are bound To such as fail. They all our loss expound; They comfort us for work that will not speed, And life — itself a failure. ^ean Ingelow. 78 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. in t^m^per ange de striie^tion tiir^bu lenge Nl ag^a ra siif fi^cient (fish'ent) lesso:n^ XXIV. ex -eur^sion en joy^ment warn'ing eon^fi denge BM ^fa 15 tran'quil swear'ing plea§^ure fierg'er shriek^ing THE POWER OF HABIT. JOHN B. GOUGH. John Bartholomew Gough (1817-1886) was born at Sandgate, Kent, England. At the age of 12 he came to America, and was hired out to work on a farm in New York. In 1831 he went to New York city, where he learned book- binding. But he became such a drunkard that he lost his position. When he was in the depths of poverty and degradation a kind Quaker per- suaded him to sign the pledge. He reformed, and became an able and widely known temper- ance lecturer. He visited England in 1853, when he was engaged to give a two-years lecture course in Great Britain. In 1878 he again visited Eng- land. He died in 1886. 1. I REMEMBER once when riding from Buffalo to Niag- ara Falls that I said to a gentleman, " What river is that, sir?" "That," said he, "is Niagara river." 2. "Well, it is here a beautiful and tranquil stream," said I. "How far off are the rapids?" " Only a mile or two," was the reply. 3. " Is it possible that only a mile from us we shall find the water in the turbulence it must show near the falls 1 " I THE CHANE FOURTH READER. 79 " You will find it so, sir." And so I found it ; and the first sight of Niagara I shall never forget. 4. Now launch your bark on that Niagara river, whose surface is so bright and smooth and beautiful and glassy. There is a ripple at the bow; the silver wake you leave behind adds to your enjoyment. Down the stream you go, oars, sails and helm in proper trim, as you set out on your pleasure excursion. 5. Suddenly some one cries out from the bank, " Young men, ahoy ! " ' ^^Whatisit?" "The rapids are below!" 6. " Ha ! ha ! " you laugh back ; " we have heard of the rapids, but we are not such fools as to get there. If we go too fast, then we shall up with the helm and steer to the shore ; we will set the mast in its place, raise the sail, and speed to the land. Then on, boys; don't be frightened; there is no danger." 7. The boat moves swiftly along, while hardly a ripple in the smooth waters tells you it is moving down the stream. Soon another warning call reaches you from the shore : 8. " Young men, ahoy there ! " "What is it?" u Tj\^^ rapids are below you ! " 9. " Ha ! ha ! " you shout back again. " We will laugh and quaff ; all things delight us. What care we for the fu- ture ! No man ever saw it. ' Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.' Let us enjoy life while we may, and catch pleasure as it flies. This is enjoyment. Time enough yet to steer out of danger." 80 THE CKANE FOUKTH READER. 10. And so full of joy are you, that you do not know how fast the current is carrying you onward — onward — into the very jaws of destruction! Another shout reaches you — louder, fiercer than before. It frightens you. 11. '^Young men, ahoy!'' "What is it r' '^ Beware! Beivare! The rapids are below !^^ 12. Now you see the water foaming all around. How fast you pass that point ! " Up with the helm ! " Now you turn! you pull hard! "Quick! quick! quick! Pull for your lives, men ! '' Ah ! now you pull. You pull till the blood starts from your nostrils and the veins show like whipcords upon your brow ! " Set the mast ! raise the sail ! " Ah ! ah ! it is too late ! too late ! Shrieking, howl- ing, swearing, over you go. 13. Young men ! thousands go over the rapids of Intem- perance every year, just in this way, through confidence in themselves and the power of habit, crying out all the while, "When I find that temperate drinking is hurting me, I will give it up ! " John B. Gough. Where is the Niagara river? What wonderful natural phenomena on this river? Who are imagined as on the river? What was said to them from the bank? What did the young men say in reply ? What are the thoughts in the tenth and twelfth paragraphs ? What practical lesson is in this selection? This above all — to thine own self be true ; And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. — Shakespeare. i\ THE CKANE FOURTH READER. 81 LESSOIsT XXY. weap'on des o la'tion li^M'nmg pn§^on wan^der er gath^ered ven'omed hllgWmg trem'bling listening throb'bing sl'lenge WORDS. Adelaide Anne Procter (1825-1864) was of English birth. She was a frequent contributor to the Comhill Magazine. Her poem, The Lost Chord, is her best-known production. 1. Words are lighter than the cloud-foam Of the restless ocean spray; Vainer than the trembling shadow That the next hour steals away. By the fall of summer raindrops Is the air as deeply stirred ; And the rose-leaf that we step on Will outlive a word. 2. Yet, on the dull silence breaking With a lightning-flash, a word, Bearing endless desolation On its blighting wings, I heard. Earth can forge no keener weapon, Dealing surer death and pain; And the cruel echo answered Through long years again. 3. I have known one word hang star-like O'er a dreary waste of years, —6 THE CKANE FOtTRTH REABEH. And it only shone the brighter Looked at through a mist of tears : "While a weary wanderer gathered Hope and heart on life's dark way By its faithful promise, shining Clearer day by day. I have known a spirit calmer Than the calmest lake, and clear As the heavens that gazed upon it, With no wave of doubt or fear ; But a storm had swept across it. And its deepest depths were stirred, Never, nevermore to slumber, Only by a word. I have known a word more gentle Than the breath of summer air; In a listening heart it nestled. And it lives forever there. Not the beating of its prison Stirred it ever, night or day; Only with the heart's last throbbing Could it fade away. Words are mighty, words are living! Serpents with their venomed stings, Or bright angels, crowding round us. With heaven's light upon their wings; Every word has its own spirit. True or false, that never dies ; Every word man's lips have uttered Echoes in God's skies. Adelaide a. Procter. THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 83 de ter mi na^tion in ter pre taction for mari tie§ ob gerv^ang e§ LESSO:^ XXVI. trans ae^tion in venation re lig'ious soVemn ly^ ex per'i ment dis eour^aged €on vie^tion i. „- / per se vere CHARLES DICKENS'S LETTER TO HIS SON. Chables Dickens (1812-1870) was born in Hampshire, England. When quite a young man he began newspaper work on the staff of the Morning Chronicle. In this paper appeared his Sketches hy Boz. Following these he wrote many novels. The most noted of them are: David Copperfield, Pickwick Papers, Bleak House, and Tale of Two Cities. Dickens wrote of children and child-life with great power. He was a re- former, and by his stories he tried to bring about better schools, better laws, and better customs in social life. CHARLES DICKENS. 1. I WRITE this note to you to-day because your going away is much upon my mind, and because I want you to have a few parting words from me to think of now and then at quiet times. 2. I need not tell you that I love you dearly, and am very, very sorry in my heart to part with you. But this life is half made up of partings, and these pains must be borne. 3. It is my comfort and my sincere conviction that you are going to try the life for which you are best fitted. I think its freedom and wildness more suited to you than any experiment in a study or office would have been ; and 84 The crane fourth reader. without that training, you could have followed no other suitable occupation. 4. What you have always wanted until now has been a set, steady, constant purpose. I therefore exhort you to persevere in a thorough determination to do whatever you have to do as well as you can do it. 5. I was not so old as you are now when I first had to win my food, and to do it out of this determination ; and I have never slackened in it since. 6. Never take a mean advantage of anyone in any trans- action, and never be hard upon people who are in your power. 7. Try to do to others as you would have them do to you, and do not be discouraged if they fail sometimes. It is much better for you that they should fail in obeying the greatest rule laid down by our Saviour than that you should. 8. I put a New Testament among your books for the very same reason, and with the very same hopes, that made me write an easy account of it for you when you were a little child, because it is the best book that ever was, or ever will be known in the world, and because it teaches you the best lessons by which any human creature who tries to be truthful and faithful to duty can possibly be guided. 9. As your brothers have gone away, one by one, I have written to each such words as I am now writing to you, and have entreated them all to guide themselves by this Book, putting aside the interpretations and inven- tions of man. You will remember that you have never at THE CEANE EOUETH KEADER. 85 home been harassed about religious observances or mere formalities. 10. I have always been anxious not to weary my chil- dren with such things before they are old enough to form opinions respecting them. You will therefore understand the better that I now would most solemnly impress upon you the truth and beauty of the Christian religion as it came from Christ himself, and the impossibility of your going far wrong if you humbly but heartily respect it. 11. Only one thing more on this head. The more we are in earnest as to feeling it, the less we are disposed to hold forth about it. Never abandon the wholesome prac- tice of saying your own private prayers, night and morn- ing. I have never abandoned it myself, and I know the comfort of it. 12. I hope you will always be able to say in after life that you had a kind father. In no other way can you show your affection for him so well, or make him so happy, as by doing your duty. Chables Dickens. What are some of the best things that Dickens wrote to his son? In what way could he make his father happy? What did he say of the book he gave him? The stars shall fade away, the sun himself Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years; But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth. Unhurt amidst the war of elements. The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds. — Addison, 86 THE CKANE FOUKTH READER. lesso:n' xxvii. broods trod^den ben e die^tion trem^bks soVeian trans form^ siirien pas^sion g^^ard'i an ease^ments spa^ge§ THE CHILDREN. this'rte-barb Richard Realf (1836-1878), was an Englishman by birth, but American in instinct. He spent most of his life in the West. He wrote charming verse. He was widely known in the literary world. Realf died at Oakland, Califor- nia, October 28, 1878, 1. Do YOU love me, little children? Oh, sweet blossoms that are curled (Life's tender morning-glories!) 'Round the casements of the world, Do your hearts climb up toward me, As my one heart bends to you, In the beauty of your dawning And the brightness of your dew? 2. When the fragrance of your faces. And the rhythm of your feet, ^ And the incense of your voices, Transform the sullen street,— Do you see my soul move softly Forever where you move; With an eye of benediction And a guardian hand of love? 3. Oh, my darlings, I am with you. In your trouble, in your play; THE CRANE FOUETH EEADER. 87 In your sobbing and your singing, In your dark and in your day ; In the chambers where you nestle, In the hovels where you lie ; In the sunlight where you blossom. In the blackness where you die. 4. Not a blessing broods above you' But it lifts me from the ground ; Not a thistle-barb doth sting you But I suffer with the wound ; And a chord within me trembles To your lightest touch or tone. And I famish when you hunger. And I shiver when you moan. 5. I have trodden all the spaces Of my solemn years alone; And have never felt the cooing Of a babe's breath near my own, But with more than father-passion. And with more than mother-pain, I have loved you, little children — Do you love me back again? ElCHARD ReALF. Tell about Mr. Eealf s love for children. Tell the things he was willing to do for them. Pointing to such, well might Cornelia say, When the rich casket shone in bright array, " These are my jewels ! " Well of such as he, When Jesus spake, well might the language be, " Suffer these little ones to come to me ! " — Rogers. 88 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. LESSO]^ XXVITI. Mi'das de spa*r' vineyards Pae to'liis parage bare'fdbt €6rn'field§ hiin'ger lad'der THE STORY OF KING MIDAS. 1. It happened once upon a time in the days when other beings besides men and animals were said to live upon the earth, that a certain king, Midas, did a kindness to one who was employed as a servant by the gods of the vine- yards and the cornfields. This god, hearing of it, said to King Midas, " Ask any gift you choose ; it shall be yours.'' 2. "Grant me," said Midas, "that everything I touch shall turn to gold." " It is a fool's wish," said the god, " but so be it. Every- thing you touch shall turn to gold." King Midas was very happy. He would now be the richest king in all the world. He opened his palace door, and lo ! the door became gold. He touched the vines, and they were golden leaves and flowers. He touched the fruit, and it was carved in gold. 3. He went from room to room touching everything, till his house was furnished in gold. He climbed upon a ladder, which turned to gold in his hands, and touched every brick and stone in his palace till all was pure gold. His cooks boiled water in golden kettles, and swept away golden dust with golden brooms. He sat down to dinner in a golden chair, his garments of spun gold, and his plate of solid gold, and the table linen cloth-of-gold. THE CBANE FOURTH READER. 89 4. With delight at the richness of his house and the riches he was yet to gather, Midas helped himself from the golden dish before him. But suddenly his teeth touched something hard, harder than bone. Had the cook put stones into his food? It was nothing of the kind. Alas! his very food, as soon as it touched his lips, turned to solid gold. 5. His heart sank within him, while the meat before him mocked his hunger. Then was the richest king in the world to starve? A horrible fear came upon him as he poured out drink into a golden cup, and the cup was filled with gold. He sat in despair. 6. What was he to do 1 Of what use was all this gold, if he could not buy a crust of bread or a sip of water? The poorest plowman would now be richer than the king. Poor Midas wandered about his golden palace, the dust becoming gold under his feet, until he was all of a fever with thirst, and weak and sick with hunger. At last, in his despair, he set out to find the god of the cornfields and vineyards again, and beg him to take back the gift of gold. By-and-by, when nearly starved, he found the god, who cried to him, ^' Ha ! Midas, are you not content yet ? Do you want more gold ? " 7. "Gold!'' cried Midas. "I hate the horrible word. I am starving. Make me the poorest man in the whole world, for I have learned that a mountain of gold is not worth a drop of dew.'' "I will take back my gift," said the god. "You may wash away your folly in the first river that you come to. Good-by; only don't think that gold is not a good thing, though too much of it is a bad thing." 90 THE CKANE FOURTH READER. 8. Midas ran to the river Pactolus, near by. He threw off his golden clothes and hurried, barefoot, over the sands of the river, and the sand, wherever his naked feet touched it, turned to gold. When he came from the water the terrible power of the golden touch had left him. He had learned that the best thing one can do with too much gold is to give it away as fast as one can. The golden palace is gone from the earth, but the sand of the river Pactolus is said to have gold in it to this day. LESSOI^ XXIX. en gi neer^ en^vel ope €rit^i gi§m at ten^tion bat^tered sar cas^tie post^of fige con tin^ued worst^edg €on trlv^ange en thu'§i a§m fa^moiis THE ENGINEER AND HIS LITTLE FRIENDS. 1. Jack, Gertie and Trip used to play by the side of the railroad. Each day, when the four o'clock train rushed by their home, the three children and Lillo, the dog, hur- ried through the gate by the well, and stood watching the train as long as they could see it. 2. The engineer soon began to notice them. One day he threw a daily paper at their feet. They were wild with delight at this attention, which was kept up until the chil- dren's paper was as much expected as their father's daily. Jack began to think of returning this kindness. THE CKANE FOURTH READER. 91 3. By-and-by, when the time came, Jack crept around under the window, and asked Gertie and Trip to come out, which they were not slow to do. "Want to see the new postoffice begin? Come on, then.'' 4. He strutted through the gate and took up a long pole that lay in the grass on the railroad bank. "Now, you see," he began to explain to his anxious listeners, " here 's a contrivance that I 'm going to take out a patent for. See this crack! Well, here's this letter I put in here—" 5. "Where's the letter going?" asked Gertie. " It 's to the engineer. I '11 read it to you ; " and he took it out of the envelope very carefully with his brown, bat- tered little hands, and read : 6. ^^ 'Dear Mr. Waterman: We are very much obliged to you for throwing us out a paper every day. We would like to give you something. We are going to give you some apples. If you will catch this letter to-day, we will give you some apples to-morrow in a basket, if you can catch them. I will hold them up high. I thank you very much for the paper. So do Gertie and Trip. Gertie and Trip are the girls. I am the boy. Gertie is the big one. I am bigger than Gertie. The dog's name is Lillo. I wrote the letter. Yours affectionately, Jack " 7. " Now, don't you think that letter '11 do the business. Miss Gertie?" " Oh, I think it is a beautiful letter," broke in Trip. 8. " Now, you see," continued Jack, " I stick ^:he letter in the crack here, so, and then I stand down on the bank, here"— and he picked his way down the steep gravel bank — " and I hold the pole out, and the engineer comes along. 92 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. and lie sees something, and runs out his arm and grabs the pole,— and there you are!" 9. "But how is the engineer going to see you?" "With eyes, just as he always does." " But I don't believe he will know what you want with your pole ; I 'm sure I shouldn't." 10. " Now, there ! " cried Jack, climbing up to the top of the bank, "there's the difference. A man has brains, you see, and a girl hasn't. If I have sense to make this up, don't you suppose a man has sense enough to see when it is pushed into his face 1 " 11. "Well, you see—" replied Gertie. "Well, you see," said Jack, a little angry at Gertie's lack of enthusiasm. He had called his sisters out to ad- mire, not to criticise. 12. But Trip made up for Gertie's criticism by her own great faith. She had no doubts. " Why, I could do it my- self, just as easy! I should know in a minute 'twas a letter." 13. Soon the black spot was seen far off. It came nearer ; it stopped at the station ; it started again, " Kchuh ! — Kchuh ! — Kchuh ! " and Jack took his stand, his feet firmly planted in the gravel. 14. The engine came roaring round the curve. The en- gineer waved his paper. Jack waved his letter. He was understood at once. The engineer was a stout, heavy man, but the fireman was smaller. He held on with one hand, and swung out on the side toward the children. 15. Jack turned so as to have his letter pointing the same way as the engine, and the fireman flew by, taking THE CHANE FOURTH EEADEH. 93 pole, letter, and all, as easily as you would pick up a stick. It was all done in a second. 16. Jack climbed up the bank, his face red with excite- ment and triumph. "Words were too weak to make known his joy. He nodded at Gertie. She had nothing to say for herself this time. They went into the house to tell their parents about it. Before this. Jack had not thought proper to take them into his confidence. 17. " Now,'' said Jack, hero and knight by what he had done, "I suppose you know the next thing is to get the apples ready for to-morrow." " Yes," said papa ; " and as you have only twenty-four hours to do it in, you ought to begin at once." 18. But Jack was in too high spirits to be "taken down " by any sarcastic words, and he immediately began to look for a basket. Gertie and Trip were sent hunting in every direction. " Girls can't do much," said Jack, " but you can run upstairs and down ; that is something." 19. And when treasures of worsteds, and pieces, and all kinds of things had been emptied on floors, beds and ta- bles, Jack found a basket that suited him — a strong, white basket with a handle — and into the cellar they went, climb- ing among the apple-bins, picking out the reddest and soundest and juiciest of the early apples. 20. But draw out the time as long as they could, it did not take long. "And oh, it seems as if it never would be to-morrow at four o'clock ! " sighed Trip. 21. But to-morrow came, and four o'clock came, and the Boston train came, and this time the fireman had climbed out along the — something — I don't know what they call 94 THE CRAKE FOURTH READER. it, but I dare say all you boys do — that long iron at the side of the engine. 22. And there he was sitting on some little point or other in front of the engine, from which if he had fallen —well, it would not have been very pleasant. But there he sat and clung, till he had run his arm through the handle of the basket which Jack held on another pole, and then he crept back like a fly, and not an apple was dropped. 23. This was done several times, the returning train tossing out the empty basket, till it began to be famous. And once, as the train came near, there was an unusual stir. The platforms of the cars were crowded with men. The windows were thrown up and filled with faces. 24. Whether it was that the unusual excitement made Jack's hand tremble, or whether the strain was too great upon the fireman, I don't know ; but for the first time, the basket was knocked instead of taken. Out went every hateful little apple, dancing under the wheels, rolling into the ditch, everywhere save where they should have gone ; and there was great sorrow. 25. I suppose it was thought to be too dangerous, for after that there was no more traffic in apples. What do you like best in this story? Why? Kindness is wisdom. There is none in life But needs it and may learn. — Bailey. That best portion of a good man's life. His little, nameless, unremembered acts Of kindness and of love. — Wordsworth. THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 95 LESSON XXX. vig^ion a€ €6rd^ ex Qeed'ing •■ cheer^i ly wak^en ing A'hou ABOU BEN ADHEM. James Henry Leigh Hunt ( 1784-1859), poet and critic, was an English- man. He was educated at Christ's Hospital. He was once put into prison for two years, for writing a criticism on the prince regent. But he dec- orated his prison-bars with flowers, and was very happy. He wrote many poems, was always of a cheerful disposition, and his writings gleam with sunshine. Abou Ben Adhem — may his tribe increase! — Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom. An angel, writing in a book of gold. Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold. And to the Presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head. And, with a look made all of sweet accord, Answered, " The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so," Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low. But cheerily still ; and said, " I pray thee, then. Write me as one that loves his fellow-men." 96 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night It came again, with a great wakening light, And showed the names whom love of God had bless'd ; And lo ! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest. Leigh Hunt. Question: Why should his name lead all the rest? LESSON XXXI. mim^ie im^i ta ting ben^e fit an i ma^tion per form^ang e§ tim^id eov^ey pig^eon eon^gert THE MOCKING-BIRD. 1. In the woods of the Southern States the mocking- bird is at home. There he sings a song richer and sweeter than the prisoner in the golden cage ever cared to sing. In the soft and balmy air of his own forests the free bird charms and puzzles all that listen to him. He can call other birds to him by imitating the voices of their mates, and he can frighten them away by screaming like an eagle. 2. Is he not well named? The long Latin name by which learned men call him means the '^ mimic that understands many languages.'' The rest of the thrush family — the Northern branch — sing in their own language only, but their clear, mellow voices are as strong and sweet as the mocking-bird's. Indeed, many persons think that the THE CEANE FOURTH READER. 97 wood-thrusli of the Northern and the Middle States is a more pleasing songster than his Southern relation. 3. Wandering through a pine forest in Carolina, we may hear the whistle of the redbird, the call of the jay;, the mew of the catbird, and the shrill cry of the woodpecker, as if the feathered tribe were giving a concert for the benefit of the trees and the flowers around. And, behold ! one little mocking-bird brimful of mischief and song is the sole per- former. While we listen and wonder, the plaintive cry, •^ Whippoorwill ! whippoorwill ! '' gives us another sur- prise. We know that the whippoorwill never comes out in broad daylight if not forced to do so ; yet here are the clear notes ringing through the forest, and the sun is still high in the heavens. 4. We look around to see what it all means, and we find out the secret. While the redbird, the jay, and the rest of the feathered tribe, deceived by the voices they have heard, hasten away, anxious to know why they have been called, we discover the cause of the alarm. In a low bush near by, a mocking-bird has been practicing his skill, perhaps to startle his timid neighbors. 5. As if pleased at the result of his music, he darts out from his hiding-place and perches on a branch within sight, sweeping his long tail from side to side, spreading his wings, and stretching his neck in all directions, satisfied with himself and proud of his marvelous performances. '' Is there a songster in the world like me ! '' says the de- lighted little creature — in actions, if not in words. Who knows icliat he says to ears that understand the language of his family? 98 THE CRANE EOUHTH HEADEH. 6. But the singer, satisfied as lie seems, has not finished his work. In a minute he begins again, giving us the fine sweet notes of the mocking-bird's own melody, to show that he has a song better than all that he imitates; then the little mimic returns to his mocking music, and calls out, with animation, ''Bob White! Bob White!" driving poor Bob White in wonder to his covey. There is a sudden change, and the wild scream of the pigeon-hawk fills the air. As this cry dies away, the soft tender warble of some sweet forest-singer falls upon the ear; the melody swells higher and higher, until in one mocking-bird's song are mingled the ringing tones of the brown thrush, the gentle notes of the wood-thrush, the clear warble of the robin, and, in fact, the voices of a whole choir of woodland song- sters. 7. So the concert goes on, although the twilight is steal- ing upon us. The pale moon is in the eastern sky, and in a little while the dim forest-aisles will catch the splendor of the moonlight. But the mocking-bird sings on, as if that wonderful voice of his needed no rest. Perhaps, when the moon sets, he will go to his nest and be still for a time; but not yet — not yet! 8. Do you know that this little creature can fight as well as sing? Sometimes, when he is watching by the nest in which his mate is sitting, he hears a rustling among the leaves at the foot of the tree ; and he knows that his enemy the snake is coming to rob the nest and to make a dainty meal of the eggs or the young birds. The mocking-bird darts upon the robber-snake in a perfect fury, and, keeping THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 99 out of the way of his fangs, pecks at his head and eyes with such force as to drive him away. 9. Indeed, the snake seldom escapes; for the enraged bird follows him, and in most cases ends the battle by leaving the enemy dead upon the ground. Then you should " listen to the mocking-bird " ! He flies back to the tree — the brave little warrior! — and from the highest branch pours forth a ringing song, as if in thanksgiving for the victory. What is meant by imitating? How does the mocking-bird fight? No matter what his rank or position may be, the lover of books is the richest and happiest of the children of men. Langford. The first time I read an excellent book, it seems to me just as if I had gained a new friend; when I read over a book I have perused before, it resembles the meeting with an old one. Goldsmith. Half the gossip of society would perish if the books that are truly worth reading were but read. Dawson. What is twice read is commonly better remembered than what is tran- scribed. Samuel Johnson. The man who is fond of books is usually a man of lofty thought and of elevated opinions. Dawson. 100 THE CKANE FOURTH READER. mass ive or^na ments LESSON XXXII. ar^eM te€ts in eom plete^ se eme' stairVa^/s tilr^rets as Qend'mg . boundless THE BUILDERS. 1. All are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time ; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. 2. Nothing useless is, or low; Each thing in its place is best; And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the rest. 3. For the structure that we raise. Time is with materials filled; Our to-days and yesterdays Are the blocks with which we build. Truly shape and fashion these; Leave no yawning gaps between Think not, because no man sees, Such thinsrs will remain unseen. 5. In the elder days of Art, Builders wrought with unseen care Each minute and unseen part; For the gods see everywhere. THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 101 6. Let US do our work as well, Both the unseen and the seen; Make the house where gods may dwell Beautiful, entire, and clean. 7. Else our lives are incomplete, Standing in these walls of Time — Broken stairways, where the feet Stumble as they seek to climb. 8. Build to-day, then, strong and sure, With a firm and ample base ; And, ascending and secure. Shall to-morrow find its place. 9. Thus alone can we attain To those turrets, where the eye Sees the world as one vast plain. And one boundless reach of sky. Heney W. Longfellow. LESSON XXXIIL hea'then§ prov^m^e proph^et es5 e§ ig^no rant slmgh' ter com^pli ment non^sense gyp^sie§ pre tend'ing THE TALE OF MACBETH. PART I. 1. Soon after the Scots and Picts had become one peo- ple, as I told you before, there was a King of Scotland called Duncan, a very good old man. He had two sons; one was called Malcolm, and the other Donaldbane. But 102 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. King Duncan was too old to lead out liis army to battle, and his two sons were too young to help him. 2. At this time Scotland, and indeed France and Eng- land, and all the other countries of Europe, were much harassed by the Danes. These were a very fierce, warlike people, who sailed from one place to another, and landed their armies on the coast, burning and destroying every- thing wherever they came. They were heathens, and did not believe in the Bible, but thought of nothing but battle and slaughter, and making plunder. When they came to countries where the inhabitants were cowardly, they took possession of the land, as I told you the Saxons took pos- session of Britain. At other times, they landed with their soldiers, took what spoil they could find, burned the houses, and then got on board, hoisted sails, and away again. They did so much mischief that people put up prayers to God in the churches, to deliver them from the rage of the Danes. 3. Now, it happened in King Duncan's time that a great fleet of these Danes came to Scotland and landed their men in Fife, and threatened to take possession of that province. So a numerous Scottish army was levied to go to fight against them. The King, as I told you, was too old to command his army, and his sons were too young. He therefore sent out one of his near relations, who was called Macbeth ; he was son of Finel, who was Thane,- as it was called, of Glammis. The governors of provinces were at that time, in Scotland, called thanes ; they were afterward termed earls. 4. This Macbeth, who was a brave soldier, put himself at the head of the Scottish army, and inarched against the Danes. And he carried with him a relation of his own. THE CKANE FOURTH READER. 103 called Banquo, who was Thane of Lochaber, and was also a very brave man. So there was a great battle fought be- tween the Danes and the Scots ; and Macbeth and Banquo, the Scottish generals, defeated the Danes, and drove them back to their ships, leaving a great many of their soldiers both killed and wounded. Then Macbeth and his army marched back to a town in the north of Scotland, called Forres, rejoicing on account of their victory. 5. Now there lived at this time three old women in the town of Forres, whom people looked upon as witches, and supposed they could tell what was to come to pass. Nobody would believe such folly nowadays, except low and ig- norant creatures, such as those who consult gypsies in order to have their fortunes told ; but in those early times the people were much more ignorant, and even great men, like Macbeth, believed that such persons as these witches of Forres could tell what was to come to pass afterward, and listened to the nonsense they told them, as if the old women had really been prophetesses. The old women saw that they were respected and feared, so that they were tempted to impose upon people, by pretending to tell what was to happen to them ; and they got presents for doing so. 6. So the three old women went and stood by the way- side, in a great moor or heath near Forres, and waited till Macbeth came up. And then, stepping before him as he was marching at the head of his soldiers, the first woman said, ^^All hail, Macbeth — hail to thee. Thane of Glammis." The second said, ''All hail, Macbeth — hail to thee. Thane of Cawdor.'' Then the third, wishing to pay him a higher compliment than the other two, said, "All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be King of Scotland." Macbeth was very much surprised to hear them give him these titles ; and while he 104 THE CEANE FOURTH READER. was wondering what they could mean, Banqno stepped for- ward, and asked them whether they had nothing to tell about him as well as about Macbeth. And they said that he should not be so great as Macbeth, but that, though he himself should never be a king, yet his children should suc- ceed to the throne of Scotland, and be kings for a great number of years. ruf^fian (yan) sov^er eign ret'i nue lesso:n^ XXXIV. as sist^auQe ac com^plished king^man gov'ern ment proph^e QY bar^bar oils (ber) THE TALE OF MACBETH. PART II. 1. Before Macbeth recovered from his surprise, there came a messenger to tell him that his father was dead, so that he was become Thane of Glammis by inheritance. And there came a second messenger, from the King, to thank Macbeth for the great victory over the Danes, and tell him that the Thane of Cawdor had rebelled against the King, and that the King had taken his office from him, and had sent to make Macbeth Thane of Cawdor as well as of Glammis. Thus the first two old women seemed to be right in giving him those two titles. I dare say they knew something of the death of Macbeth's father, and that the government of Cawdor was intended for Macbeth, though he had not heard of it. 2. However, Macbeth, seeing a part of their words come to be true, began to think how he was to bring the rest to pass, and make himself king, as well as Thane of Glammis and Cawdor. Now Macbeth had a wife, who was a very THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 105 ambitious, wicked woman, and when she found out that her husband thought of raising himself up to be King of Scotland, she encouraged him in his wicked purpose, by all the means in her power, and persuaded him that the only way to get possession of the crown was to kill the good old King Duncan. Macbeth was very unwilling to commit so great a crime, for he knew what a good sovereign Duncan had been ; and he recollected that he was his relation, and had been always very kind to him, and had intrusted him with the command of his army, and had bestowed on him the government or thanedom of Cawdor. But his wife con- tinued telling him what a foolish, cowardly thing it was in him not to take the opportunity of making himself King, when it was in his power to gain what the witches promised him. So the wicked advice of his wife, and the prophecy of those wretched old women, at last brought Macbeth to think of murdering his King and his friend. The way in which he accomplished his crime made it still more abominable. 3. Macbeth invited Duncan to come to visit him, at a great castle near Inverness ; and the good King, who had no suspicions of his kinsman, accepted the invitation very willingly. Macbeth and his lady received the King with all his retinue with much appearance of joy, and made a great feast, as a subject would do to make his King wel- come. About the middle of the night the King desired to go to his apartment, and Macbeth conducted him to a fine room which had been prepared for him. Now, it was the custom, in those barbarous times, that wherever the King slept, two armed men slept in the same chambof , in order to defend his person in case he should be attacked by any one during the night. But the wicked Lady Macbeth had made these two watchmen drink a great deal of wine, and 106 THE CKA.NE FOUKTH HEADER. had besides put some drugs into the liquor ; so that when they went to the King's apartment they both fell asleep, and slept so soundly that nothing could awaken them. 4. Then the cruel Macbeth came into King Duncan's bedroom about two in the morning. It was a terribly stormy night ; but the noise of the wind and of the thunder did not awaken the King, for he was old, and weary with his journey; neither could it awaken the two sentinels, who were stupefied with the liquor and the drugs they had swallowed. They all slept soundly. So Macbeth having come into the room, and stepped gently over the floor, stabbed poor old King Duncan to the heart, so that he died without giving even a groan. 5. When Malcolm and Donaldbane, the two sons of the good King, saw their father slain within Macbeth's castle, they became afraid that they might be put to death like- wise, and fled away out of Scotland. Donaldbane fled into some distant islands, but Malcolm, the eldest son of Dun can, went to the Court of England, where he begged for assistance from the English King, to place him on the throne of Scotland as his father's successor. 6. In the meantime, Macbeth took possession of the kingdom of Scotland, and thus all his wicked wishes seemed to be fulfilled. But he was not happy. He began to reflect how wicked he had been in killing his friend and benefactor, and how some other person, as ambitious as he was himself, might do the same thing to him. He remem- bered, too, that the old woman had said that the children of Banquo should succeed to the throne after his death, and therefore he concluded that Banquo might be tempted to conspire against him, as he had himself done against King Duncan. The wicked always think other people are THE CKANE FOURTH READEE. 107 as bad as themselves. In order to prevent this supposed danger, Macbeth hired ruffians to watch in a wood, where Banquo and his son Fleance sometimes used to walk in the evening, with instructions to attack them, and kill both father and son. The villains did as they were or- dered by Macbeth; but while they were killing Banquo, the boy Fleance made his escape from their wicked hands, and fled from Scotland into Wales. And it is said that long afterward, his children came to possess the Scottish crown. Sir Walter Scott. LESSON XXXV. new§^boy hiir^ry ing shiv'er§ neigh'hor (ber) weight pen^nie§ lamp'-post ply^ing no^bod f NOBODY'S CHILD. 1. Only a newsboy, under the light Of the lamp-post, plying his trade in vain : Men are too busy to stop to-night, Hurrying home through the sleet and rain. Never since dark a paper sold: Where shall he sleep, or how be fed? He thinks, as he shivers there in the cold, While happy children are safe abed. 2. Is it strange if he turns about, With angry words, then comes to blows, When his little neighbor, just sold out, Tossing his pennies, past him goes? 108 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. " Stop ! "— some one looks at him, sweet and mild, And the voice that speaks is a tender one : "You should not strike such a little child. And you should not use such words, my son ! " 3. Is it his anger or his fears That have hushed his voice and stopped his arm? " Don't tremble," these are the words he hears ; "Do you think that I would do you harm?" "It isn't that," and the hand drops down; " I wouldn't care for kicks and blows ; But nobody ever called me son. Because I'm nobody's child, I s'pose." 4. men! as ye careless pass along, Eemember the love that has cared for you. And blush for the awful shame and wrong Of a world where such a thing could be true! Think what the child at your knee had been If thus on life's lonely billows tossed; And who shall bear the weight of the sin, If one of these "little ones" be lost! . Explain : " Plying his trade in vain." What are the marks around "little ones"? Why? Tell the story of this little newsboy. Better to be driven out from among men than to be disliked of children. — Dana. He makes a July's day short as December; And, with his varying childness, cures in me Thoughts that would thick my blood. — Shakespeare. THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 109 I LESSOInT XXXVI. liv'eth waste e reeV he^^v^en ly seem^est re fram' fliing ereed fruiVsige HE LIVETH LONG WHO LIVETH WELL. 1. He liveth long who liveth well! All other life is short and vain ; He liveth longest who can tell Of living most for heavenly gain. 2. He liveth long who liveth well! All else is being flung away ; He liveth longest who can tell Of true things truly done each day. 3. Waste not thy being ; back to Him Who freely gave it, freely give, Else is that being but a dream — 'Tis to be, and not to live. 4. Be wise, and use thy wisdom well ; Who wisdom speaks must live it, too; He is the wisest who can tell How first he lived, then spoke the true. 5. Be what thou seemest — live thy creed ; Hold up to earth the torch divine; Be what thou prayest to be made ; Let the great Master's step be thine. 110 THE CKANE FOUKTII EEADEE. 6. Fill up each hour with what will last ; Buy up the moments as they go: The life above, when this is past, Is the ripe fruit of life below. 7. So, if thou the truth would reap, (Who sows the false shall reap the vain,) Erect and sound thy conscience keep; From hollow words and deeds refrain. 8. Sow love, and taste its fruitage pure; Sow peace, and reap its harvest bright; Sow sunbeams on the rock and moor, And find a harvest-home of light. HORATIUS BONAE. Require the pupils to write in their own language, or paraphrase, the thought of each stanza, being careful to avoid rhyming. Which stanza do you like best? Repeat it from memory. lesso:n^ xxxvii. hos pi tari ty siie geed^ed es pe'cial ly (pesh al) boun^ti ful ly be nef i gent ly liv'er ie§ me an^dered pit^i a h\e ob se^qui otis THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER. PART I. 1. One evening, in times long ago, old Philemon and his old wife Baucis sat at their cottage door, enjoying the calm and beautiful sunset. They had already eaten their frugal supper, and intended now to spend a quiet hour or THE CRANE FOURTH READER. Ill two before bedtime. So they talked together about their garden, and their cow, and their bees, and their grapevine, which clambered over the cottage wall, and on which the grapes were beginning to turn purple. But the rude shouts of children, and the fierce barking of dogs, in the village near at hand, grew louder and louder, until, at last, it was hardly possible for Baucis and Philemon to hear each other speak. 2. '^ Ah, wife," cried Philemon, " I fear some poor trav- eler is seeking hospitality among our neighbors yonder, and, instead of giving him food and lodging, they have set. their dogs at him, as their custom is ! " 3. " Welladay ! " answered old Baucis, " I do wish our neighbors felt a little more kindness for their fellow-crea- tures. And only think of bringing up their children in this naughty way, and patting them on the head when they fling stones at strangers!" 4. " Those children will never come to any good," said Philemon, shaking his white head. " To tell ypu the truth, wife, I should not wonder if some terrible thing were to happen to all the people in the village, unless they mend their manners. But, as for you and me, so long as Provi- dence affords us a crust of bread, let us be ready to give half to any poor, homeless stranger that may come along and need it." 5. " That 's right, husband ! " said Baucis. " So we will/' 6. These old folks, you must know, were quite poor,' and had to work hard for a living. Old Philemon toiled diligently in his garden, while Baucis was always busy with her distaff, or making a little butter and cheese with their cow's milk, or doing one thing and another about the 112 THE CKANE FOURTH READER. cottage. Their food was seldom anything but bread, milk, and vegetables, with sometimes a portion of honey from their beehive, and now and then a bunch of grapes that had ripened against the cottage wall. 7. But they were two of the kindest old people in the world, and would cheerfully have gone without their din- ners any day rather than refuse a slice of their brown loaf, a cup of new milk, and a spoonful df honey to the weary traveler who might pause before their door. They felt as if such guests had a sort of holiness, and that they ought therefore to treat them better and more bountifully than their own selves. 8. Their cottage stood on a rising ground at some dis- tance from a village which lay in a hollow valley that was about half a mile in breadth. This valley in past ages, when the world was new, had probably been the bed of a lake. There fishes had glided to and fro in the depths, and water-weeds had grown along the margin, and trees and hills had seen their reflected images in the broad and peaceful mirror. But as the waters subsided men had cul- tivated the soil and built houses on it, so that it was now 'j^ a fertile spot, and bore no traces of the ancient lake except < a very small brook which meandered through the midst of the village, and supplied the inhabitants with water. The valley had been dry land so long, that oaks had sprung up, and grown great and high, and perished with old age, and been succeeded by others, as tall and stately as the first. Never was there a prettier or more fruitful valley. The ■ I very sight of the plenty around them should have made the inhabitants kind and gentle, and ready to show their I II THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 113 gratitude to Providence by doing good to their fellow- creatures. 9. But we are sorry to say, the people of this lovely vil- lage were not worthy to dwell in a spot on which Heaven had smiled so beneficently. They were a very selfish and hard-hearted people, and had neither pity for the poor nor sympathy with the homeless. They would only have laughed, had anybody told them that human beings owe a debt of love to one another, because there is no other method of paying the debt of love and care which all of us owe to Providence. You will hardly believe what I am going to tell you. 10. These naughty people taught their children to be no better than themselves, and used to clap their hands, by way of encouragement, when they saw the little boys and girls run after some poor stranger, shouting at his heels, and pelting him with stones. They kept large and fierce dogs, and whenever a traveler ventured to show himself in the village street, this pack of disagreeable curs scampered to meet him, barking, snarling, and showing their teeth. Then they would seize him by his leg, or by his clothes, just as it happened ; and if he were ragged when he came, he was generally a pitiable object before he had time to run away. This was a very terrible thing to poor travelers, as you may suppose, especially when they chanced to be sick, or feeble, or lame, or old. Such persons (if they once knew how badly these unkind people and their unkind children and curs were in the habit of behav- ing) would go miles and miles out of their way rather than try to pass through the village again. —8 114 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 11. What made the matter seem worse, if possible, was that when rich persons came in their chariots or riding on beautiful horses, with their servants in rich liveries at- tending on them, nobody could be more civil and obsequi- ous than the inhabitants of the village. They would take off their hats and make the humblest bows you ever saw. If the children were rude, they were pretty certain to get their ears boxed; and as for the dogs, if a single cur in the pack presumed to yelp, his master instantly beat him with a club and tied him up without any supper. 12. This would have been all very well, only it proved that the villagers cared much about the money that a stranger had in his pocket, and nothing whatever for the human soul which lives equally in the beggar and the prince. 13. So you can now understand why old Philemon spoke so sorrowfully when he heard the shouts of the children and the barking of the dogs at the farther extremity of the village street. There was a confused din, which lasted a good while and seemed to pass quite through the breadth of the valley. 14. " I never heard the dogs so loud," observed the good old man. 15. " Nor the children so rude," answered his good old wife. 16. They sat shaking their heads one to another, while the noise came nearer and nearer, until, at the foot of the little eminence on which their cottage stood, they saw two travelers approaching on foot. Close behind them came the fierce dogs snarling at their very heels. 17. A little farther off, ran a crowd of children, who THE CKANE FOUBTH READER. 115 sent up shrill cries, and flung stones at the two strangers, with all their might. Once or twice, the younger of the two men (he was a slender and very active figure) turned about and drove back the dogs with a staff which he car- ried in his hand. His companion, who was a very tall person, walked calmly along, as if disdaining to notice either the naughty children, or the pack of curs, whose manners the children seemed to imitate. 18. Both of the travelers were very humbly clad, and looked as if they might not have money enough in their pockets to pay for a night's lodging. And this, I am afraid, was the reason why the villagers had allowed their children and dogs to treat them so rudely. 19. " Come, wife," said Philemon to Baucis, " let us go and meet these poor people. No doubt, they feel almost too heavy-hearted to climb the hill.'' 20. " Go you and meet them," answered Baucis, " while I make haste within-doors, and see whether we can get them anything for supper. A comfortable bowl of bread and milk would do wonders toward raising their spirits." 21. Accordingly, she hastened into the cottage. Phile- mon, on his part, went forward, and extended his hand with so hospitable an aspect that there was no need of saying what nevertheless he did say, in the heartiest tone imaginable, — " Welcome, strangers ! welcome ! ?' 22. " Thank you ! " replied the younger of the two, in a lively kind of way, notwithstanding his weariness and trouble. ^^ This is quite another greeting than we have met with yonder in the village. Pray, why do you live in such a bad neighborhood ? " 116 THE CKANE FOURTH READER. 23. "Ah!'' observed old Philemon with a quiet and benign smile, "Providence put me here, I hope, among other reasons, in order that I may make what amends I can for the inhospitality of my neighbors." 24. " Well said, old father ! " cried the traveler, laugh- ing ; " and, if the truth must be told, my companion and myself need some amends. Those children (the little ras- cals !) have bespattered us finely with their mud balls, and one of the curs has torn my cloak, which was ragged enough already. But I took him across the muzzle with my staff, and I think you may have heard him yelp even thus far oif ." 25. Philemon was glad to see him in such good spirit; nor, indeed, would you have fancied, by the traveler's look and manner, that he was weary with a long day's journey, besides being disheartened by rough treatment at the end of it. He was dressed in rather an odd way, with a sort of cap on his head, the brim of which stuck out over both ears. Though it was a summer evening, he wore a cloak, which he kept wrapped closely about him, perhaps because his under-garments were shabby. 26. Philemon perceived, too, that he had on a singular pair of shoes, but as it was now growing dusk, and as the old man's eyesight was none the sharpest, he could not precisely tell in what the strangeness consisted. One thing certainly seemed queer: the traveler was so wonderfully light and active that it appeared as if his feet sometimes rose from the ground of their own accord or could be kept down only by an effort. 27. " I used to be light-footed in my youth," said Phile- THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 117 mon to the traveler, " but I always found my feet growing heavier toward nightfall." 28. "There is nothing like a good staff to help one along/' answered the stranger ; " and I happen to have an excellent one, as you see." 29. This staff, in fact, was the oddest-looking staff that Philemon had ever beheld. It was made of olive-wood, and had something like a little pair of wings near the top. Two snakes, carved in the wood, were represented as twin- ing themselves about the staff, and were so very skillfully executed that old Philemon (whose eyes, you know, were getting rather dim) almost thought them alive, and that he could see them wriggling and twisting. 30. "A curious piece of work, sure enough!" said he. "A staff with wings! It would be an excellent kind of stick for a little boy to ride astride of ! " 31. By this time, Philemon and his two guests had reached the cottage door. 32. "Friends," said the old man, "sit down and rest yourselves here on this bench. My good wife Baucis has gone to see what you can have for supper. We are poor folks; but you shall be welcome to whatever we have in the cupboard." 33. The younger stranger threw himself carelessly on the bench, letting his staff fall, as he did so. And here happened something rather marvelous, though trifling enough, too. The staff seemed to get up from the ground of its own accord, and, spreading its little pair of wings, it half hopped, half flew, and leaned itself against the wall of the cottage. There it stood quite still, except that the 118 THE CRANE FOCTllTH READER. snakes continued to wriggle. But, in my private opinion, old Philemon's eyesight had been playing him tricks again. 34. Before he could ask any questions, the elder stran- ger drew his attention from the wonderful staff, by speak- ing to him. 35. " Was there not," asked the stranger in a remarkably deep tone of voice, ^' a lake, in very ancient times, covering the spot where now stands yonder village 1 '' 36. " Not in my day, friend,'' answered Philemon, " and yet I am an old man, as you see. There were always the fields and meadows just as they are now, and the old trees, and the little stream murmuring through the midst of the valley. Neither my father, nor his father before him, ever saw it otherwise, so far as I know, and doubtless it will still be the same when old Philemon shall be gone and for- gotten." 37. " That is more than can be safely foretold," observed the stranger; and there was something very stern in his deep voice. He shook his head, too, so that his dark and heavy curls were shaken with the movement. " Since the inhabitants of yonder village have forgotten the affections and sympathies of their nature, it were better that the lake should be rippling over their dwellings again." By humility, and the fear of the Lord, are riches, honor, and life. — Proverbs. You must come home with me and be my guest; You will give joy to me, and I will do All that is in my power to honor you. — Shelley. I am a man, and I have an interest in everything that concerns humanity. — Terence. I THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 119 LESSON XXXVIII. 16 qua'cious gar^ru loiis ly de Ifcious €011 QeiYe' am bro^sia (zha) paFa ta h\e IV re gist'i bl^ pro geed^ed ex^qui §ite ly THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER. PAKT II. 1. The traveler looked so stern that Philemon was really almost frightened; the more so, that at his frown the twilight seemed suddenly to grow darker, and that when he shook his head there was a roll as of thunder in the air. 2. But in a moment afterward the stranger's faCe became so kind and mild that the old man quite forgot his terror. Nevertheless, he could not help feeling that this elder traveler must be no ordinary personage, although he happened now to be attired so humbly and to be journey- ing on foot. Not that Philemon fancied him a prince in disguise or any character of that sort, but rather some exceedingly wise man who went about the world in this poor garb, -despising wealth and all worldly objects, and seeking everywhere to add a mite to his wisdom. This idea appeared the more probable, because, when Philemon raised his eyes to the stranger's face, he seemed to see more thought there, in one look, than he could have studied out in a lifetime. 3. While Baucis was getting the supper, the travelers both began to talk very sociably with Philemon. The younger, indeed, was extremely loquacious, and made such shrewd and witty remarks, that the good old man con- 120 THE CKANE FOUKTH BEADEE. tinually burst out a-laughing, and pronounced him the merriest fellow whom he had seen for many a day. 4. "Pray, my young friend," said he, as they grew familiar together, " what may I call your name ! '' 5. " Why, I am very nimble, as you see,'' answered the traveler. " So, if you call me Quicksilver, the name will fit tolerably well." 6. "Quicksilver? Quicksilver?" repeated Philemon, looking in the traveler's face, to see if he were making fun of him. "It is a very odd name! And your com- panion there ? Has he as strange a one ? " 7. "You must ask the thunder to tell it you!" replied Quicksilver, putting on a mysterious look. "No other voice is loud enough." 8. This remark, whether it were serious or in jest, might have caused Philemon to conceive a very great awe of the elder stranger, if, on venturing to gaze at him, he had not beheld so much beneficence in his visage. But, undoubt- edly, here was the grandest figure that ever sat so humbly beside a cottage door. When the stranger conversed, it was with gravity, and in such a way that Philemon felt irresistibly moved to tell him everything which he had most at heart. This is always the feeling that people-have when they meet with anyone wise enough to comprehend all their good and evil, and to despise not a tittle of it. 9. But Philemon, simple and kind-hearted old man that he was, had not any secrets to disclose. He talked, how- ever, quite garrulously about the events of his past life, in the whole course of which he had never been a score of miles from this very spot. His wife Baucis and himself dwelt in the cottage from their youth upward, earning THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 121 their bread by honest labor, always poor, but still con- tented. He told what excellent butter and cheese Baucis made, and how nice were the vegetables which he raised in his garden. He said, too, that, because they loved one another so very much, it was the wish of both that death might not separate them, but that they should die, as they had lived, together. 10. As the stranger listened, a smile beamed over his countenance and made its expression as sweet as it was grand. . , 11. "You are a good old man,'' said he to Philemon, " and you have a good old wife to be your helpmeet. It is fit that your wish be granted." 12. And it seemed to Philemon just then as if the sun- set clouds threw up a bright flash from the west and kin- dled a sudden light in the sky. 13. Baucis had now got supper ready, and, coming to the door, began to make apologies for the poor fare which she was forced to set before her guests. 14. " Had we known you were coming," said she, " my good man and myself would have gone without a morsel rather than you should lack a better supper. But I took the most part of to-day's milk to make cheese, and our last loaf is already half -eaten. Ah, me ! I never feel the sorrow of being poor save when a poor traveler knocks at our door." 15. " All will be very well ; do not trouble yourself, my good dame," replied the elder stranger kindly. " An hon- est, hearty welcome to a guest works miracles with the fare, and is capable of turning the coarsest food to nectai and ambrosia." I 122 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 16. "A welcome you shall have/' cried Baucis, "and likewise a little honey that we happen to have left, and a bunch of purple grapes besides." 17. "Why, Mother Baucis, it is a feast!" exclaimed Quicksilver, laughing, " an absolute feast ! and you shall see how bravely I will play my part at it ! I think I never felt hungrier in my life." 18. " Mercy on us ! " whispered Baucis to her husband. " If the young^man has such a terrible appetite, I am afraid there will not be half enough supper!" 19. They all went into the cottage. 20. And now, my little auditors, shall I tell you some- thing that will make you open your eyes very wide! It is really one of the oddest circumstances in the whole story. Quicksilver's staff, you recollect, had set itself up against the wall of the cottage. Well, when its master entered the door, leaving this wonderful staff behind, what should it do but immediately spread its little wings, and go hop- ping and fluttering up the doorsteps ! Tap, tap, went the staff, on the kitchen floor; nor did it rest until it had stood itself on end, with the greatest gravity arid decorum, beside Quicksilver's chair. Old Philemon, however, as well as his wife, was so taken up in attending to their guests, that no notice was given to what the staff had been about. 21. As Baucis had said, there was but a scanty supper for two hungry travelers. In the middle of the table was the remnant of a brown loaf, with a piece of cheese on one side of it, and a dish of honeycomb on the other. There was a pretty good bunch of grapes for each of the guests. A moderate-sized earthen pitcher, nearly full of milk. THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 123 stood at the corner of the board, and when Baucis had filled two bowls and set them before the strangers only a little milk remained in the bottom of the pitcher. Alas! it is a very sad business when a bountiful heart finds itself pinched and squeezed among narrow circumstances. Poor Baucis kept wishing that she might starve for a week to come, if it were possible by so doing to provide these hungry folks a more plentiful supper. 22. And, since the supper was so exceedingly small, she could not help wishing that their appetites had not been quite so large. Why, at their very first sitting down, the travelers both drank off all the milk in their two bowls at a draught! 23. "A little more milk, kind Mother Baucis, if you please," said Quicksilver. " The day has been hot and I am very much athirst." 24. " Now, my dear people,'' answered Baucis, in great confusion, "I am so sorry and ashamed! But the truth is, there is hardly a drop more milk in the pitcher. Oh, husband! husband! why didn't we go without our suj)- per!" 25. "Why, it appears to me," cried Quicksilver, start- ing up from the table and taking the pitcher by the handle — "it really appears to me that matters are not quite so bad as you represent them. Here is certainly more milk in the pitcher." 26. So saying, and to the vast astonishment of Baucis, he proceeded to fill not only his own bowl, but his com- panion's likewise, from the pitcher that was supposed to be almost empty. The good woman could scarcely be- lieve her eyes. She had certainly poured out nearly all 124 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. the milk, and had peeped in afterward and seen the bot- tom of the pitcher as she set it down upon the table. 27. "But I am old/' thought Baucis to herself, "and apt to be forgetful. I suppose I must have made a mis- take. At all events, the pitcher cannot help being empty- now, after filling the bowls twice over." 28. " What excellent milk ! " observed Quicksilver, after quaffing the contents of the second bowl. "Excuse me, my kind hostess, but I must really ask you for a little more." 29. Now Baucis had seen, as plainly as she could see anything, that Quicksilver had turned the pitcher upside down, and consequently had poured out every drop of milk, in filling the last bowl. Of course, there could not possibly be any left. However, in order to let him know precisely how the case was, she lifted the pitcher, and made a ges- ture as if pouring milk into Quicksilver's bowl, but with- out the remotest idea that any milk would stream forth. 30. "What was her surprise, therefore, when such an abundant cascade fell bubbling into the bowl, that it was immediately filled to the brim, and overflowed upon the table! The two snakes that were twisted about Quick- silver's staff (but neither Baucis nor Philemon happened to observe this circumstance) stretched out their heads, and began to lap up the spilt milk. 31. And then what a delicious fragrance the milk had! It seemed as if Philemon's only cow must have pastured, that day, on the richest herbage that could be found any- where in the world. I only wish that each of you, my beloved little souls, could have a bowl of such nice milk, at supper-time! f THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 125 32. "And now a slice of your brown loaf, Mother Baucis/' said Quicksilver, " and a little of that honey." 33. Baucis cut him a slice accordingly ; and though the loaf, when she and her husband ate of it, had been rather too dry and crusty to be palatable, it was now as light and moist as if but a few hours out of the oven. Tasting a crumb which had fallen on the table, she found it more delicious than bread ever was before, and could hardly believe that it was a loaf of her own kneading and baking. Yet what other loaf could it possibly be! 34. But oh, the honey ! I may just as well let it alone, without trying to describe how exquisitely it smelt and looked. Its color was that of the purest and most trans- parent gold, and it had the odor of a thousand flowers, but of such flowers as never grew in an earthly garden, and to seek which the bees must have flown high above the clouds. 35. The wonder is that, after alighting on a flower-bed of so delicious fragrance and immortal bloom, they should have been content to fly down again to their hive in Philemon's garden. Never was such honey tasted, seen, or smelt. The perfume floated around the kitchen, and made it so delightful that, had you closed your eyes, you would instantly have forgotten the low ceiling and smoky walls, and have fancied yourself in an arbor with celes- tial honeysuckles creeping over it. 36. Although good Mother Baucis was a simple old dame, she could not but think that there was something rather out of the common way in all that had been going on. So, after helping the guests to bread and honey and laying a bunch of grapes by each of their plates, she sat 126 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. down by Philemon, and in a whisper told him what she had seen. " Did you ever hear the like ? " asked she. 37. "No, I never did," answered Philemon, with a smile. "And I rather think, my dear old wife, you have been walking about in a sort of dream. If I had poured out the milk, I should have seen through the business at once. There happened to be a little more in the pitcher than you thought — that is all." 38. "Ah, husband," said Baucis, "say what you will, these are very uncommon people." 39. " Well, well," replied Philemon, still smiling, " per- haps they are. They certainly do look as if they had seen better days ; and I am heartily glad to see them making so comfortable a supper." 40. Each of the guests had now taken his bunch of grapes upon his plate. Baucis (who rubbed her eyes, in order to see the more clearly) was of opinion that the clusters had grown larger and richer, and that each sep- arate grape seemed to be on the point of bursting with ripe juice. It was entirely a mystery to her how such grapes could ever have been produced from the old stunted vine that climbed against the cottage wall. 41. "Very admirable grapes these!" observed Quick- silver, as he swallowed one after another, without appar- ently diminishing his cluster. "Pray, my good host, whence did you gather them?" 42. " From my own vine," answered Philemon. " You may see one of its branches twisting across the window, yonder. But wife and I never thought the grapes very fine ones." THE CKANE FOURTH READEE. 127 43. " I never tasted better," said the guest. " Another cup of this delicious milk, if you please, and I shall then have supped better than a prince." 44. This time, old Philemon bestirred himself, and took up the pitcher, for he was curious to discover whether there was any reality in the marvels which Baucis had whispered to him. He knew that his good old wife was incapable of falsehood, and that she was seldom mistaken in what she supposed to be true ; but this was so very sin- gular a case that he wanted to see into it with his own eyes. On taking up the pitcher, therefore, he slyly peeped into it, and was fully satisfied that it contained not so much as a single drop. All at once, however, he beheld a little white fountain which gushed up from the bottom of the pitcher and speedily filled it to the brim with foaming and deliciously fragrant milk. It was lucky that Philemon, in his surprise, did not drop the miraculous pitcher from his hand. 45. "Who are ye, wonder-working strangers'?" cried he, even more bewildered than his wife had been. 46. " Your guests, my good Philemon, and your friends," replied the elder traveler, in his mild, deep voice that had something at once sweet and awe-inspiring in it. "Give me likewise a cup of the milk ; and may your pitcher never be empty for kind Baucis and yourself, any more than for the needy wayfarer." Lowliness is the base of every virtue. And he who goes the lowest, builds the safest. — Bailey. This is the porcelain clay of human kind. — Dryden. 128 THE CRANE FOURTH READER. LESSOIST XXXIX. il lim^it a hie vf and§ per plex^i t^ m e^ hausVi bk Yi^'age ed'i fige di vin^i tie§ spa^cious hos^pi ta bl^ THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER. PART III. 1. The supper being now over, the strangers requested to be shown to their place of repose. The old people would gladly have talked with them a little longer, and have ex- pressed the wonder which they felt, and their delight at finding the poor and meager supper prove so much better and more abundant than they hoped. But the elder trav- eler had inspired them with such reverence that they dared not ask him any questions. And when Philemon drew Quicksilver aside and inquired how under the. sun a foun- tain of milk could have got into an old earthen pitcher, this latter personage pointed to his staff. 2. "There is the whole mystery of the affair,'' quoth Quicksilver ; " and if you can make it out, I '11 thank you to let me know. I can't tell what to make of my staff. It is always playing such odd tricks as this ; sometimes get- ting me a supper, and, quite as often, stealing it away. If I had any faith in such nonsense, I should say the stick was bewitched ! " 3. He said no more, but looked so slyly in their faces, that they rather fancied he was laughing at them. The magic staff went hopping at his heels, as Quicksilver quit- ted the room. When left alone, the good old couple spent some little time in conversation about the events of the er, THE CRANE FOURTH READER. 129 evening, and then lay down on the floor, and fell fast asleep. They had given up their sleeping-room to the guests, and had no other bed for themselves, save these planks, which I wish had been as soft as their own hearts. 4. The old man and his wife were stirring betimes, in the morning, and the strangers likewise arose with the sun, and made their preparations to depart. Philemon hospitably entreated them to remain a little longer, until Baucis could milk the cow, and bake a cake upon the hearth, and, perhaps, find them a few fresh eggs for break- fast. The guests, however, seemed to think it better to ac- complish a good part of their journey before the heat of the day should come on. They therefore persisted in setting out immediately, but asked Philemon and Baucis to walk forth with them a short distance, and show them the road which they were to take. 5. So they all four issued from the cottage, chatting to- gether like old friends. It was very remarkable, indeed, how familiar the old couple insensibly grew with the elder traveler, and how their good and simple spirits melted into his, even as two drops of water would melt into the illimit- able ocean. And as for Quicksilver, with his keen, quick, laughing wits, he appeared to discover every little thought that but peeped into their minds before they suspected it themselves. They sometimes wished, it is true, that he had not been quite so quick-witted, and also that he would fling away his staff, which looked so mysteriously mis- chievous with the snakes always writhing about it. But, then, again. Quicksilver showed himself so very good- humored that they would have been rejoiced to keep him 130 i'HE CRANi! FOtTRtll READER. in their cottage, staff, snakes, and all, every day and the whole day long. 6. "Ah, me! Welladay!" exclaimed Philemon when they had walked a little way from their door. "If our neighbors only knew what a blessed thing it is to show hospitality to strangers, they would tie up all their dogs and never allow their children to fling another stone." 7. "It is a sin and shame for them to behave so — that it is!" cried good old Baucis vehemently. "And I mean to go this very day and tell some of them what naughty people they are." 8. " I fear," remarked Quicksilver, slyly smiling, " that you will find none of them at home." The elder traveler's brow just then assumed such a grave, stern, and awful grandeur, yet serene withal, that ifeither Baucis nor Philemon dared to speak a word. They gazed reverently into his face, as if they had been gazing at the sky. 9. . " When men do not feel toward the humblest stran- ger as if he were a brother," said the traveler in tones so deep that they sounded like those of an organ, " they are unworthy to exist on earth, which was created as the abode of a great human brotherhood." 10. " And, by the by, my dear old people," cried Quick- silver, with the liveliest look of fun and mischief in his eyes, " where is this same village that you talk about ! On which side of us does it lie? Methinks I do not see it hereabouts." 11. Philemon and his wife turned toward the valley, where, at sunset, only the day before, they had seen the THE CEANE FOURTH READER. 131 meadows, the houses, the gardens, the clumps of trees, the wide, green-margined street, with children playing in it, and all the tokens of business, enjoyment, and prosperity. But what was their astonishment! There was no longer any appearance of a village ! Even the fertile vale, in the hollow of which it lay, had ceased to have existence. Tn its stead, they beheld the broad, blue surface of a lake, which filled the great basin of the valley from brim to brim, and reflected the surrounding hills in its bosom with as tranquil an image as if it had been there ever since the creation of the world. For an instant, the lake remained perfectly smooth. Then, a little breeze sprang up, and caused the water to dance, glitter, and sparkle in the early sunbeams, and to dash, with a pleasant rippling murmur, against the hither shore. 12. The lake seemed so strangely familiar, that the old couple were greatly perplexed, and felt as if they could only have been dreaming about a village having lain there. But, the next moment, they remembered the vanished dwellings, and the faces and characters of the inhabitants, far too distinctly for a dream. The village had been there yesterday, and now was gone ! 13. " Alas ! " cried these kind-hearted old people, " what has become of our poor neighbors ! " 14. " They exist no longer as men and women,'' said the elder traveler, in his grand and deep voice, while a roll of thunder seemed to echo it at a distance. " There was neither use nor beauty in such a life as theirs, for they never softened or sweetened the hard lot of mortality by the exercise of kindly affections between man and man. 139 THB oiu^im wxrwm biadsiu Thoy jvtaiui 1 u in i ^ . i ilu^ better life in tlxdr bosomSi llhMvKMv tlu^ i.iko (hat w.i- ^>r old has spread itself forth 1 > Alul .1 /;u> uu^lish ptM>|^lo»>> said Qiuok- sil\ri- with his luisohit^x ous snuK\ •• {\\c\ ;iro all trans- rornuni to tlsluv^. T]u\\ lu^ihil h\\\ littlo oluv!\,4?ts for tlu\v \voro alroaiiy a st .mN n . i r.isr.ils. jnul i)\(> coldest- Woodod Ihmu^^ in r\;-.u-i;.v- Sv\ Kuul ,Mo(!uM- r^Miiois, \vl\onovov ;^^\i or your husluwui ha\* .m nppotito i\m i l^h o\ iMoiltvl ii-ont. ho oau throw i»i n liih> .ni»l |MiI1 out li.'ilt* a Ji> iMl »>!" \ .Mil i>!t] nt^''»^'''vM-'v" ic. ■ Ail. . I u-J sluhKKvi'n^^^ *• 1 wouKl not t*or tho world p\it ono oi ilu 111 o!\ tlu^ jjjridimn!** i" Xo.'' addod PhiU>uu>n, nmking a \\ i \ Tmoo. "wo iVMil.l iir\ K'\- n^lish thtMO." IS ■• As I'of \iMi. i^oiul rhllouuMi." vontnuh\l tlu* v^KUu' trixilor nul \oii kind Bauds — yon with >'o\ir scanty nunvns havo loinjiiUa o uwwh l\oartfeIt hospitality with your ontortainn\ont oi tho hon . -' -h'MT\!irov that tho toilk Invanu^ an inoxliaostibK^ fotn un. au^l tho brown hmf and tlu^ hono\ wv . Thus tho divinitios havo IVastovl at \v>ui IwwA oiY tiio s.nuo xiniuls that s\i}>ply thoir hanq\»ots on Olunpus >\>n havodvMio w;*^' »'>\ tlonr ohl iVionds. \Vhotvt\Mt^ i^ ;u i whatovor i.i\ ii.i\o )no8t at hoavt, and u .1 W. Phih^non and Iwoiois Ivv K.\l u o!\t» ai\othor, and \W\\ \ know not w^- '^^ of tho two it was who s|H>kt\ h\it tnat oiuMlttonnl \\u ol*hoth thoir ht\irts : 20* "liOt ns liNo toivotlior. whilo w (^ ii\o. nuvl lo:i\o tlio woi'lvl Mt !^'(^ sniuo itistniU. wIum\ w i^ J;.'* I'or w v^ ha\i^ al- wuNvS Uootl ono anothorl" Till*; ciiANi'; I'-omiTii iii;\ih;h. 188 21. "Be It go I" rq)lio(l lli(»HinmK<'r, wiili iii/iJ!' whit.<» iii;iiM<\ wilh ;i w ild I'nIKs fell oil iliPir IviKM.M |<> tli.Mi||< |iitt|; l)ui, Im'Ik.M ' licllll.l Ik' IH.I (^>|||. I ll',. I \V.l 111. 1... :!.>. S(» riiilciiK.ii ;iiid r.;iiici;i hiok u|) ilu'lr rtiHid(»ri(U} in Filie iii.Mihh' |»;il.M(M', ;iii(| Hpciil, llicir iiiiic, wiili v/ini HiiiiHluo- (ion (<> 1 Ik'iiiscIn «••;, in iimking (»vnryl"tdv i<»||y and (•(»nirnr'i- :iltl<' who li;i|.| !(ii((| lo |»;iHH Hint \\;i '• inilk-|)ilen<'(| lo si| ., Ii< w ;i | m 1 1 \ <'<»rJ;iin lo Iwisf, hln visa^^c iiilo .'I h;ird Kiiol, .iikI |iioinMiiicc il ;i |.il' Iki ol' .our milk! :!("». Thus Mm' oM coijith' Il\<'<1 in Ukmi' pnhice ji, groat, /•ic.'il. whilr, .'111(1 '^\n'\\ oldci ;iiid ohicr, ;md vciy ohi hi-