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Claegjcg for CbJIbren.
JOHN S. PRELL
Civil & Mechanical Engineer.
SAN FRAN^SGO, CAL.
Fourth Reader.
STICKNEY.
BOSTON, U.S.A.:
GINN & COMPANY.
1889.
COPYRIGHT BY J. H. STICKNEY,
ALL RIGHT? RESERVED.
ANNOUNCEMENT.
IN homes where literary taste is at all cultivated, children of
nine or ten years will speak of a considerable number of stand-
ard juvenile books with such familiarity as to show that the
contents are in a large measure their own. With better facilities
and under skilled direction, children at school should certainly
have more to show for their reading than they now do. The half--
hour given to the reading lesson at each session of the school, if
spent upon some choice book or selection, Jirst, for the inherent
interest in the theme and its treatment, and second, for the purpose
of learning to read it pleasantly, would result in better readers,
would promote all the incidental objects of reading, and would lay
the foundation for knowledge and taste in literature. The aim of
the editor and publishers of this series has been to advance children,
not simply in the oral reading of set lessons, but in that to which
fluent oral reading is a means, the taste for a kind of reading which
will ennoble and instruct.
Comparison of the most approved American and foreign reading-
books shows that while in England provision for the first years
is inferior to our own, the higher English readers are of broader
range and better literary quality. This is in part because they are
more strictly readers — they do not attempt to cover the many
specialties which have attached themselves of late to our own
readers ; and in part because the power of really good reading to
awaken interest and impress itself upon the mind has come to be
better recognized.
Two views obtain among teachers with regard to the grade of
selections appropriate to a lesson in reading.
One makes success in intelligent, agreeable, oral expression, for
Typography by J. S. Gushing & Co., Presswork by Ginn & Co.
Boston, U.S.A. . _ , . Boston, U.S.A.
GIFT
ANNOUNCEMENT. ^^J^ ^^^
the cultivation of style and taste, the chief desideratum ; the other
requires that each lesson should be far enough above the pupil's
attainment to be a study demanding effort on his part and aid from
his teacher. The books of this series represent what is believed to
be middle ground between these two extremes.
The selections are mainly literary in character, and in the nar-
rative style, which makes attractive reading. The poetry is chosen
ill large part from standard authors. The aim to lead pupils to
the reading of hooks, both in poetry and prose, shows itself in fewer
short, disconnected lessons, and greater continuity of subjects. The
practice of silent reading is of greater importance in each rising-
grade . At least half a dozen good books should be thoroughly
read in the year given to the Fourth Reader. If pupils cannot
make these books their own property for home use, they should be
freely loaned them.
Historical and biographical passages, fragments of science and
natural history, and details of description are omitted from this
book for several reasons. It is taken for granted that provision
will be otherwise made for readings whose office is chiefly to in-
struct, and which, to be of benefit, should be presented in connected
series. The book will lead to the interest in any record of life and
its incidents, and so awaken the desire for knowledge in all these
lines.
Indebtedness for copyrighted material is gratefully acknowl-
edged to the authors and publishers named below. To Messrs.
Houghton and Mifflin for "A Night with a WoK," by Bayard
Taylor; " Red Top and Timothy," by Miss Larcom; "The Story
of the Amber Beads " and " Quercus Alba," by Miss Andrews. To
Messrs. Harper & Brothers for "Friquet and Friquette," from
Home Fairy Tales, by Jean Mace. To Messrs. Roberts Brothers
for "The Ant's Monday Dinner," by Mrs. Jackson (H. H.), and
" How the Leaves came Down," by Susan Coolidge.
By special arrangement and permission of Messrs. Houghton
and Mifflin the use is authorized of " Rain in Summer " and " Ex-
celsior," by Longfellow, and " The Fountain/' b^ Lowell,
379
CONTENTS.
PAGK
His Sistek's Story 1, 5
The Cat-Rabbit 12, 15, 18
A LiTTLB Goose 21
The Story of the Amber Beads 25
Hop-Picking 30
Learning to Swim 31
How TO make the best of it 37
The Eagle's Nest 40, 48, 53, 60, 65
Robin Redbreast r . . 46
The Linnet Choir 57
Birds in Summer . 73
Papa's Story of the Butterfly 75
The King and Queen's Quarrel 80, 85
The Miller of the Dee .91
Through the Wood 93, 99
The Fox and the Cat 103
A Laughing Song 106
The Boasting Wolf 106
That's not the Way at Sea 109
Gleaners 112
The Basket-Woman 113, 119, 126
Blunder 133,139,143
Our Garden 147, 151
The Ant's Monday Dinner 156, 159
Afraid of Spiders 164
Tw^iNETTE 167, 170, 175
The Boisterous Wind 180
Thb AgoRjf ANp TiiB Cuilp .,,.,.,. 135
CONTENTS. V
PAGE
Qdercus Alba .... .... 187, 193
The Chimney-Sweep 198
Little Tom, the Chimney-Sweep 200, 209
1?HE Pet Lamb 203, 206
Little Streams 213
The Anxious Leaf 215
How THE Leaves came down 217
The Fox and the Horse 219
What the Goodman does is Right 222, 229
The Tree . . .228
The Use of Flowers . . 234
Tom, the Water-Baby 235
Tom and the Lobster 239
Mrs. Be-Done-By-As-You-Did 242
Red Top and Timothy 245
Mrs. Do-As-You-Wodld-Be-Done-By 247
A Night with a Wolf . 250
Ben Brightboots 253, 258, 264, 269, 275
Good Morrow 262
Winter Rain 273
Friquet and Friquette 279, 287, 299
Mabel on a Midsummer Day . . . . . . 283, 292
The Fairies of Caldon Low 305
The Frozen Zone 310
The Busy Little Lapps 314
Iceland and Greenland 317
The Story of Goody Blake and Harry Gill . . . 323, 326
The Truth-Teller 329
The Battle of Blenheim 334
Our Dandie 338, 344
The Fountain 342
Tubal Cain 348
The Stone in the Road 352
Rain in Summer 356, 358
Excelsior • . . . . 360
Frontispiece.
loaRTH lEADER.
»5»ic
I.
sen-tenced lec-tured foot-board fid-get
ca-pa-ble cap-i-tal con-demned pre-tend-ed
trou-ble-some mis-chiev-ous ad-ven-tures quar-relled
HIS SISTER'S STORY. — Part I.
1. Fred was six, and the top of his head just
reached to the tip of Hilda's nose; Hilda was
ten, and thought herself quite capable of being
Fred's aunt, instead of his sister. They often
quarrelled, and while together hardly knew how
much they loved each other ; but when Hilda was
at school Fred felt out of sorts, and did as much
mischief as possible ; and once, when Fred went
away with his father for a whole week, Hilda felt
very dull, and longed to have the naughty boy
back again.
2. This wise little person one day made up her
mind to write a history of her boy's mischievous
pranks, and some time or other read it to him.
"I FOURTH READER.
That would be a capital way of making him
ashamed of the past, and making him wise and
good all at once ; so one dark day, just before
Christmas, the holidays having begun, and Fred
having been more troublesome than ever, Hilda
said, —
" Fred, come here."
3. But Fred was sitting in a corner trying to
mend the hind leg of his wooden horse, which he
had most unluckily just broken off. He was
cross, and pretended not to hear.
" Do come here, Fred ; I am going to read to
you," said Hilda, in a coaxing voice, and she held
up the wonderful history, and Fred came. Like
everybody in the world, he was fond of stories.
4. " Now sit down on that stool, and don't kick
and fidget, and I'll tell you the story of the robber
chief Rufus Roughwig, and his wonderful deeds
and adventures."
Fred sat on the stool, and neither kicked nor
fidgeted, and Hilda began.
5. " Once upon a time there lived a robber chief
called Rufus Roughwig. He had a fairy god-
mother, and, because he was always doing such
dreadful things, this fairy made a book about him,
and wrote in it everything he did. Then she sent
HIS SISTER S STORY. 3
the book to the city to be printed, tliat everybody
in the whole world might read it, and see what a
shocking robber chief Rufus Rough wig was. I
have the fairy's book, and you shall hear the
whole story."
6. Fred pricked up his little ears. Never had
he heard of a robber chief with a fairy godmother.
What a jolly story !
"Now listen. ^January 1. — Rufus began the
year by kicking the footboard out of his bed, and
when he got up he put his clean sock to swim in
the basin.' "
Fred's eyes opened wide, but he said nothing.
7. "'January 18. — All the boys were out with
their sleds. Rufus thought it would be nice to
bury his hat in the snow, so that it would not
be found before the snow melted in the spring.
He did it, but as his left ear got frost-bitten, this
time his mamma let him off with a warning.' "
"I looked for my hat, I did."
8. " Listen again. ' February 14. — Mamma had
eggs in a basket, and she put them in the ante-room,
because there was no fire there. Rufus found the
basket, and played at marbles with the eggs till
they got broken, and the green sofa was spoiled.
For this crime he was sentenced to be shut up in
4 FOURTH READER.
the little pantry ; and he found a pot of jam and
ate it all up. He was then shut up in papa's
study, and condemned to sit still.' "
9. Fred looked ill at ease, but laughed.
'' What a horrid robber chief ! But there's more
still. ' March 7. — Rufus had a sister.' "
"Her name was Hilda," said Fred.
10. "The book says her name was Arabella.
^Arabella had a most lovely, good doll, called
Ellen. One day, while she was at school, Rufus
poked out one of Ellen's eyes to see what it was
made of. Afterwards he hung Ellen up by the
curls to the bell-pull. When Arabella came home
and saw the darling, she began to cry.' "
11. Fred grew very red, and his heels were heard
kicking against the stool.
"^Rufus cried too, and asked his papa to be
doctor and cure Ellen.' What a cruel robber
chief ! "
" But she's all right now."
12. " Only it is a pity that Rufus should do such
dreadful deeds. ^A week afterwards, on the 14th
of March, he was in a hurry to go out to skate,
and he could not find his woollen mittens; so he
took a pair of his mamma's nice white kid gloves,
and put them on his brown little hands. Off he
His sisters story. 5
set, and when he came home one was lost in the
snow, and there was not a finger left on the
other.' Was not that a noble deed ?"
"My hands were cold."
" ' His mamma lectured, but Rufus did not
improve.' "
Adventure. — Anything out of
the common way that a person
goes through.
Ante-room. — A small room lead-
ing into a larger one.
Capable of being. — Fit to be.
Condemned to sit still. — It was
ordered that he should sit still
as a punishment.
Find in the reading the place where " out of sorts " is used ;
then read the paragraph, using an expression of your own instead.
Do the same with "longed," "pranks," "a capital way,"
" unluckily," " lecture," and " improve."
>^♦ic
II.
com-mit-ted
sus-pi-cious
ar-rest-ed
re-proof
pun-isli-ment
sno"w-ball-ing
beam-ing
por-trait
HIS SISTER'S STORY. — Part II.
1. Hilda went on reading : —
"^ April 22. — His mamma had sowed peas in
the morning, and in the evening Rufus pulled up a
whole row to see which of them had grown the
most. This time he escaped with a reproof.
6
FOURTH READER.
2. " ^ April 23. — He broke one of the best tea-
cups, and then pounded it in the mortar, to make
the cook believe it was sifted sugar.
3. " ' St. John's day. — Eufus committed so
many crimes on this day that it was not possible
to write them all.' "
"Hilda, I only tore two holes in my jacket,
and one was a very little one."
4. "Listen again. ^ June 30. — Eufus dug a
hole in the garden, and buried papa's seal-ring,
mamma's gold thimble, six fir-apples, and a toad
HIS SISTEK S STORY. 7
in it ; this was a robber's cave. The house was
turned upside down to find the ring and the
thimble. At last Rufus was taken prisoner as a
suspicious character; he admitted that he had
buried the treasure.' Was that good ? "
" But I told the truth the minute I was asked."
5. "^July 27. — Rufus went to the shore, took
the boat, and tried to row. The water was rough,
and the noble chieftain drifted out to sea ; he
began to cry for help.' "
" I could have rowed quite well, only — the
oars were too big."
6. "' And Rufus Rough wig was too little. Sam
followed in the big boat, and saved the brave cap-
tain, and this time the judge thought the fright
was punishment enough. Next day he tried to
ride on the biggest cow, fell off, and was wounded
in the head.' "
" I know how to ride horses."
7. "^August 11. — The robber chief resolved to
mount Billy, the goat ; Billy butted, Rufus ran
away, and the enemy pursued him. If Mary had
not come up just then with the milk-pails, there
would have been a dreadful defeat.' "
" I hit that goat, I did."
" ' It is supposed that Rufus fancied he hit the
8
FOURTH READER.
goat, but that he really shouted, ' Oh, Mary, help
me!'
8. " ' September 4. — Rufus drew his school-
master's portrait on the clean white wall in the
kitchen with horrid black coal. He was put in
prison for an hour.' "
"I climbed out of the window," broke in Fred.
" ^ The prisoner was removed to the garret^
HIS sister's story. 9
where it was not easy to escape through the
window.
"'October 16. — Rufus set fire to Mary's flax
while she was spinning. He was condemned to
go to bed at six o'clock.
" ' November 3. — Without waiting to ask leave,
he crept out over the thin ice to pull out a little
boy who had fallen in. For this crime the chief
was first arrested and afterwards rewarded.
9. "'December 4. — This was a dreadful day.
Rufus fought with the Roberts boys for a priceless
treasure found in the stable, — this was a dead
mouse. The chief struck Charlie Roberts, and
gave him a black eye. He was condemned to say
he was sorry.' "
" Charlie struck me first."
10. " Yes, but he was only four, and Rufus was
six, past ; a big boy strike a little one, dreadful !
'When Rufus would not say that he was sorry,
then papa whipped him — the first time this
year. The next day the boys were snow-balling,
and the robber chief flung quite a hard ball at
Charlie, and his cheek swelled.' Was that
right?"
11. Fred was silent.
" That was what is called revenge, and revenge
10 FOURTH READER.
is the naughtiest thing in the whole world. How
can such a robber chief ever be happy any more ? "
Fred felt tears coming, and made his eyes quite
round, and shut his teeth tight, to prevent himself
crying. In a minute or two he got up and ran
away ; half-an-hour after he hopped in, beaming.
" Where did you go to, Fred ? "
12. Fred looked a little shy. " Oh, over there,
you know." He fidgeted about, then got very
red, and said very fast, " You know my sled, don't
you, Hil — that beauty I got last Christmas? You
know it's the best sled that ever was seen."
" Yes, I know ; and you love it as well as Sam
loves his best horse, and you always say it's the
best in the town."
"I have given it to Charlie, and he's so glad.
Hilda, if you could only have seen how very glad
he was ! "
13. "And you, Fred?"
"I'm glad, too. You see, Hilda, I've been so
bad ever since that dead mouse, and when you
spoke about it, I could stand it no longer ; so I
went to Charlie, you know, and now it's all right ;
he is pleased. If you only saw ! And now
Christmas will be real jolly ! "
1^. Hilda put her two arms round Fred, kissed
HIS SISTERS STORY.
11
him, and danced round the room with him seven
times.
"Do you know what, Fred? When Rufus'
fairy godmother sends the book to be printed, I'll
ask her to tell the story of the dead mouse."
And this is all we know of the deeds and
adventures of the robber chief, Rufus Roughwig.
— From the Finnish.
Admitted. — Confessed.
Arrested. — Taken prisoner.
Portrait. — Picture, likeness.
Priceless treasure. — Something
so precious that no price is large
enough to buy it.
Pursued. — Ran after.
Removed. — Taken away.
Revenge. — Doing an injury in
return for an injury received.
Suspicious character. — A person
whose past actions make people
suspect him.
Defeat. — Failure.
Use other words for "let him off with a reproof " ; for "resolved
to mount"; for " would have been a dreadful defeat " ; for " deeds
and adventures." Read the paragraphs that contain these phrases
again, giving the meaning in your own way.
Practise saying the following words in sentences, taking care
to give the final y the sound of short i, and not, as do many,
short e : —
pan-try
fair-y
liur-ry
stud-y
beau-ty
liap-py
eas-y
re-al-ly
The story Hilda wrote was in the form of a Diary ; that is, the
doings of each day were put in writing, with the date.
Copy what was written on August 11, and tell how many
separate facts are noted. AVrite a record of your own for the day
in which you have this lessoa.
12 FOURTH READER.
III.
tongue cud-died dis-po-si-tion i-deas
aclied sat-is-fied com-plained dif-fer-ence
THE CAT-RABBIT. — Parti.
1. In a round basket lined with soft green cloth,
not far from the kitchen fire, lay a large white
pussy cat, with two kittens, one black with white
spots, and the other white with yellow trimmings.
The cat washed her kittens till her rough tongue
ached so that she had to rest it ; and as soon as
it was rested, she washed them both all over again.
2. By and by a little girl came in, bringing
something very carefully in her hands.
'' It isn't anything for you to eat, Selina ; it is
something for you to take care of," she said.
" Selina " was the name by which Alice called
the cat.
3. " My white rabbit has such a number of little
ones, — more than she can possibly take good care
of, I am sure ; and as you have only two kittens,
I thought I would give you one of them. I am
sure you will be kind to it."
4. The old cat was asleep just then, and had
not heard a word that Alice had said.
THE CAT-EABBIT. 13
Alice went softly to the basket, and put the
little rabbit down by Selina's side ; then she sat
down and waited to see what would happen.
5. To her great delight, as soon as she opened
her eyes, puss gave it a loving lick all down its
back.
The little rabbit nearly fell over, for the touch
was not as gentle as she had had before ; but she
cuddled up close and lay still, so that Alice was
satisfied that it was safe to leave them together.
6. That afternoon the basket was carried up
stairs. " Are they not lovely kittens ? " asked
Alice; "1 shall call them Fluffy and Bu%, but
what shall I call the little rabbit ? I wonder
whether it will grow up most like a cat or a
rabbit?"
" I should think it would always be a rabbit,"
said her sister May.
7. " Of course, I know it will always be a rabbit
in one sense, but it will have all the ideas of a cat,
I think." May did not know about ideas ; she
thought it must mean something like catching
mice ; but as Alice was not pleased to have this
habit of Selina's talked about, she said nothing.
8. The children were called to tea, and Alice
had to leave her pets. "It will be a cat-rabbit,"
14 FOURTH READER.
she said, as she helped herself to bread and butter.
" I wish I could think of a good name for it."
But she never could, so it was always called the
" cat-rabbit."
9. It was a great delight to Alice to notice that
Selina treated the cat-rabbit exactly like one of
her own children ; or, if she made any difference,
with more tenderness.
10. Puss was quite sure that the cat-rabbit would
open its eyes first, and she was right. " Dear
little thing," she said, " how wise she looks. She
takes after me already."
11. As the children grew older and stronger,
mother Puss would leave them for awhile in their
basket, and great games the kittens had, tumbling
over one another in every possible way. Cat-
rabbit never joined in the romps, but sat looking
on without so much as a smile.
12. " She is so stupid," the kittens complained
to their mother, '' she will not play at all."
" Sweet child," the mother would reply, " that
is because of her gentle disposition. I had just
the same when I was at her age."
Tell this story as fully as you can, and using, as far as you
remember them, the words used in the book.
THE CAT-RABBIT. 15
IV.
reg-u-lar squeak-ing sliuf-fling v^rath.
un-us-u-al per-suade anx-ious act-u-al-ly
ea-ger-ness awk-^ward poi-son-ous for-got-ten
THE CAT-RABBIT. — Part II.
1. One day when pussy came home to her
family there was a regular fight going on in the
basket. The cat-rabbit was squeaking, — a most
unusual thing.
" What is going on ? " asked Selina.
'' We were only trying to pull the little one's
tail to the right length/' said Buffy ; " it looks so
very odd."
'• Her tail is long enough," answered Mother
Puss ; " do not meddle with it again."
2. In her heart she had great fears about the
little one's tail, and had often watched it, trying
to persuade herself that it grew. " I cannot
understand it," she said to herself. " There never
was anything of that kind in our family. But her
ears are wonderful, and will make a grand appear-
ance when she learns to hold them upright."
3. The kittens were always finding something
to complain of in the poor cat-rabbit.
One day it was : " She cannot even mew."
16 FOURTH READER.
" That's her sweet temper."
" But she does not purr."
" Her purr will be all the stronger by and by."
" But I can purr as loud as you now, mother,"
said Buffy.
4. Selina did not know what to say, and the
matter ended. At another time it was, —
" She has such a shuffling, awkward walk."
Another day Fluffy and Buffy came running to
her in great haste. " Do look at the little one,"
they said ; '' she is actually eating a bit of raw
cabbage-leaf that Miss Alice dropped on the floor."
6. This roused the mother. " Put that poison-
ous stuff down this instant, you naughty child,"
she said. She gave the kittens a punishment for
telling tales, but she felt anxious about these
strange ways.
For instance, when she told the children about
the use of their claws, and the kittens listened
with eagerness, the cat-rabbit did not take in a
single word. She never showed the faintest inter-
est in her mother's tail ; and when Alice swung a
cork on a line for them to play with, she sat by
without once trying to catch it.
6. One day mother Puss happened to meet
Ponto, Alice's dog. They were not on the best
THE CAT-RABBIT. 17
of terms, but lie stopped and asked, "Does it
belong to your family to eat dry bran?"
"Certainly not," said Selina; "what do you
mean (
" Oh, nothing, only I happened to see one of
them with her nose in a saucer of raw bran."
7. Mother Puss blushed, but she carried it off
very well.
"Some childish prank," she said; "my family
is so large I can hardly look after them properly."
She lost no time in running up stairs to see'
what was going on. There, sure enough, was the
cat-rabbit, busy with a saucer of bran.
8. " Little one," she said, more sorry than
angry, " I would have lost a whole mouse sooner
than have seen this sight." The cat-rabbit never
looked up, but went quietly on with the bran.
" Do you wish to break your poor mother's heart ? "
9. Just then the bran came to an end, and the
cat-rabbit came to her mother with such gentle-
ness that her wrath was for a moment forgotten.
But Mother Puss became daily more unhappy
about her smallest darling. " I fear," she at last
made up her mind, "that her tail will never be
quite like those of other people. But that is not
her fault, poor dear," she added.
18 FOURTH EEADER.
10. " You might try to hold up your ears a little,
my child," she said one day ; but the cat-rabbit
was almost spoiled with the treatment she had
from the kittens, and she did not answer.
Continue the story-telling from memory.
Write a comparison of the cat and the rabbit. Speak of their
different motions ; their different wants and enjoyments.
>:<Kc
V.
a-roused hutch. con-ceal
pur-pose front pro-vide in-ter-rupt
THE CAT-RABBIT. — Part III.
1. The older they grew, the less the kittens
could get on with the little one.
The time came when their mother thought they
were old enough for a mouse hunt, and she took
them to a hole in front of which she told them to
sit quietly till a mouse should appear. The cat-
rabbit sat as still as the rest, but showed no inter-
est whatever.
2. " Stupid little thing," said Bu%.
"The calmer one keeps, the better," said Mother
Puss.
THE CAT-RABBIT. 19
When, however, the moment arrived, and the
mouse passed under the cat-rabbit's very nose, and
she did not even stretch a claw to prevent its
escape, the old cat's wrath was aroused.
3. " You heartless child," she exclaimed, " I
believe you did it on purpose. Leave the hole
at once." " Such a lovely mouse," sobbed the
kittens, " and we've lost it."
The cat-rabbit moved away. " I will not stay
here to be so treated. Why can't they let me
alone ? all I ask is a cabbage leaf and comfort."
4. The door was open, and she hopped down
stairs and out into the yard. Ponto had gone out
for a walk, and she sat for some time wondering
what would come next.
5. By and by Miss Alice appeared. " You poor
little cat-rabbit," she said ; " have you come to
look for your old friends?" and she lifted the
little thing in her arms, and, opening the door of
the rabbit hutch, she put it gently in.
What was the cat-rabbit's surprise to find there
another little person with long ears that did not
stand up, and a short tail like her own. Alice
put in a bunch of green and left them together.
6. '' Mamma," she said, when she returned to
the house, " I think I shall leave the poor cat-
20 FOURTH READER.
rabbit in the hutch. I am afraid she is not happy
with the cats. I saw Selina bite her the other
day, and the kittens are so rough with her. The
poor thing ran away from them to-day."
7. After the mouse hunt was over, Mother Puss
looked around for the little one, but she was not
to be found anywhere. The kittens could hardly
'conceal their delight. Mother Puss did not mew
long. " I dare say it is all for the best ; she never
would have grown up to be credit to me, and Miss
Alice will provide for her," she said.
8. The cat-rabbit meanwhile munched away
with her new friend with great delight. They
did not talk much, but that was what pleased both
of them best, as it did not interrupt the munching.
Alice was the only one who felt disappointed
and dissatisfied. "I did so hope the cat-rabbit
would turn out partly a cat ; mamma, but she's
nothing but a rabbit after all ! "
A most unusual thing. — Some-
thing that does not happen
often.
Does it belong to your family ?
etc. — Is it one of the usual
ways of a cat ?
Explain in ways of your own : " To her great delight " ; " make
a grand appearance " ; " carried it off very well."
Not on the best of terms. — Not
very friendly with each other.
She is actually eating. — Not
pretending to eat, but really
or truly doing it.
A LITTLE GOOSE." 21
VT.
aim-less-ly muf-fled des-pair-ing h.ome-'ward
dier-islied sougli-(suf-)ing con-fi-den-tial as-ton-isiied
min-gled liun-dred trun-dle bed sliiv-er-ing
A LITTLE GOOSE.
The chill November day was done,
The working world home faring ;
The wind came roaring through the streets,
And set the gaslights flaring ;
And hopelessly and aimlessly
The seared old leaves were flying —
When, mingled with the soughing wind,
I heard a small voice crying.
And, shivering at the corner, stood
A child of four, or over ;
No cloak or hat her small soft arms
And wind-blown curls to cover ;
Her dimpled face was stained with tears.
Her round blue eyes ran over ;
She cherished in her wee cold hand
A bunch of faded clover.
And, one hand round her treasure, while
She slipped in mine the other,
22
FOURTH READER.
Half-scared, half-confidential, said,
" Oh, please, I want my mother ! "
" Tell me your street and number, pet
UMni
■HH
^^^1^
^^^^1 ^"^
|U ^^'^ A
mmi,^^
: ^-%t3<.^=».;
Don't cry — I'll take you to it."
Sobbing, she answered, " I forget ;
The organ made me do it.
"He came and played at Miller's step,
The monkey took the money ;
A LITTLE GOOSE. 23
I followed down the street because
That monkey was so furtiny.
I've walked about a hundred hours
From one street to another ;
The monkey's gone, I've spoiled my flowers :
Oh ! please, I want my mother."
" But what's your mother's name, and what's
The street ? Now think a minute."
" My mother's name is Mother Dear,
The street — I can't begin it."
" But what is strange about the house,
Or new — not like the others ? "
" I guess you mean my trundle-bed —
Mine and my little brother's.
'' Oh, dear ! I ought to be at home
To help him say his prayers :
He's such a baby, he forgets ;
And we are both such players ;
And there's a bar between to keep
From pitching on each other,
For Harry rolls when he's asleep :
Oh, dear ! I want my mother."
The sky grew stormy, people passed,
All muffled, homeward faring.
24
FOURTH READER.
" You'll have to spend the night with me"
I said at las'fr, despairing.
I tied a kerchief round her neck —
" What ribbon's this, my blossom ? "
" Why, don't you know ? " she smiling said.
And drew it from her bosom.
A card with number, street, and name !
My eyes astonished met it ;
"For," said the little one, "you see
I might sometime forget it.
And so I wear a little thing
That tells you all about it ;
For mother says she's very sure
I should get lost without it."
Marian Douglass.
Home faring. — Going towards
home.
Aimlessly. — Not going anywhere
in particular.
Soughing. — Making a soft sigh-
ing sound.
Cherished. — Held lovingly.
Confidential. — Trusting another
with a secret.
Scared. — Frightened.
Astonished. — Surprised.
Trundle-bed. — A bed that moves
on trundles, or little wheels.
Despairing. — Giving up hope.
Kerchief. — Short for cover-chief.
The word first meant a little
square scarf to tie over the head
or " chief." We now generally
say " handkerchief."
Muffled. — Wrapped up.
Flaring, — Burning brightly but
unsteadily.
How many lines are there in each stanza, and which lines rhyme
in each ?
THE STOKY OF THE AMBER BEADS. 25
VII.
ex-pos-ure en-cased pos-ses-sion im-bed-ded
pro-tec-tion puz-zled ac-ci-dent-al snood
ex-ude ooz-ing sur-round-ed se-cure-ly
THE STORY OF THE AMBER BEADS.
1. I know a little Scotch girl. She lives
among the Highlands of Scotland. Her home is
hardly more than a hut ; her food, broth and
bread. Her father keeps sheep on the hillsides,
and instead of wearing a coat, wraps himself in
his plaid for protection against the cold winds
that drive before them great clouds of mist and
snow among the mountains.
2. As for Jeanie herself, her yellow hair is
bound about with a little snood ; her face is
browned by exposure to the weather, and her
hands are hardened by work ; for she helps her
mother to cook and sew, to spin and weave. One
treasure little Jeanie has, which many a lady
would be proud to wear. It is a necklace of
amber beads.
3. You have perhaps seen amber, and know its
rich sunshiny color, and its fragrance when
rubbed ; and do you also know that rubbing will
make amber attract things to itself somewhat as a
26 FOURTH READER.
magnet does ? Each bead had inside of it some-
thing tiny, encased as if it had grown in the
amber.
4. Jeanie is never tired of looking at and won-
dering about them. Here is one with a delicate
bit of ferny moss shut up, as it were, in a globe of
yellow light. In another is the tiniest fly, his lit-
tle wings outspread and raised for flight. Again,
she can show us, lodged in one bead that looks
like solid honey, a bee ; and a little bright-winged
beetle in another. This one holds two slender
pine-needles lying across each other, and here we
see a single scale of a pine-cone ; while yet another
shows an atom of an acorn-cup, fit for a fairy's
use.
5. I wish you could see the beads, for I cannot
tell you the half of their beauty.
Now where do you suppose they came from, and
how did little Scotch Jeanie come into possession
of such a treasure ?
6. Old Kenneth, Jeanie's grandfather, who now
sits all day in the chimney corner, years ago,
when he was a young lad, once went down to the
seashore after a great storm hoping to help save
something from the wreck of the Gosliaivh, that
had gone ashore during the night. Among the
THE STORY OF THE AMBER BEADS. 27
slippery seaweeds, his foot accidentally uncovered
a clear, shining lump of amber, in which all these
creatures were imbedded.
7. Now Kenneth loved a pretty Highland lass,
and when she promised to be his bride, he brought
her a necklace of amber beads. He had carved
them himself out of his lump of amber, working
carefully to save in the centre of each bead the
prettiest insect or moss, and thinking, while he
toiled hour after hour, of the delight with which
he should see his bride wear them.
8. That bride was Jeanie's grandmother, and
when she died last year, she said, "Let little
Jeanie have my amber beads, and wear them as
long as she lives."
What puzzled Jeanie was how the amber came
to be on the seashore ; and most of all, how the
bees and mosses came inside of it. Should you
like to know ? If you would, that is one of
Mother Nature's stories, and she will gladly tell
it.
9. Here is what she answers to our questions : —
" I remember a time long, long before you were
born, — long even before men were living on the
earth, — these Scotch Highlands, as you call them,
28 FOURTH READER.
were covered with forests. There were oaks,
poplars, beeches, and pines ; and among them,
one kind of pine, tall and stately, from which
a yellow, shining gum flowed, just as you have
seen little sticky drops exude from our own pine-
trees.
10. '^ This beautiful yellow gum was fragrant,
and as the thousands of little insects fluttered about
it, in the warm sunshine, they were attracted by
its pleasant odor, perhaps, too, by its taste, —
and having alighted, they stuck fast, and could
not get away. The great yellow dr6ps, oozing
out, surrounded, and at last covered them entirely.
11. " So, too, wind-blown bits of moss, leaves,
acorns, cones, and little sticks, were soon securely
imbedded in the fast-flowing gum ; and, as time
went by, it hardened and hardened more and
more — and this is amber."
" That is well told, Mother Nature, but it does
not explain how Kenneth's lump of amber came
to be on the seashore."
12. Wait, then, for the second part of the story.
" Did you ever hear that in those very old times,
the land sometimes sank down so deep that the
water covered it, even to the mountain tops, and
what had been land became deep sea ?
THE STORY OF THE AMBER BEADS.
29
13. " You can hardly believe it ; yet I myself was
there to see, and I remember well when the great
forests of the North of Scotland — the oaks, the
poplars, and the amber pines — were lowered into
the deep sea.
14. " There, lying at the bottom of the ocean, the
wood and the gum hardened like stone, and only
the great storms can disturb them, as they lie
buried in the sand."
15. It was one of those great storms that
brought Kenneth's lump of amber to land.
If we could only walk on the bottom of the sea,
what treasures we might find !
Miss Andrews,
Author of ^^ Seven Little Sisters"
Plaid. — An over-garment, worn
by the Highlanders of Scotland.
It is of striped or variegated
cloth, and reaches to the knees,
or, in cold weather, to the feet.
Snood. — A band or ribbon, worn
to hold the hair 6f girls or
young women.
Magnet. — A kind of iron ore, has
the power of drawing other iron
objects to itself; it is called
loadstone, and the same power
may be given to a bar of iron
or steel, which is then called a
magnet.
To ooze, or exude, is to flow very
gently through openings which
are so small as hardly to be
seen. The flow of perspiration
through the pores of the skin is
an example.
Write in a simple way how each bead came to have at its centre
some pretty form.
30 FOURTH READER.
«
VIII.
• o'er- top-ping trudg-ing gyp-By
HOP-PICKING.
Under my window^ at six o'clock,
When all were asleep as sound as a rock,
Nothing awake but the stable cock,
Who crowed without stopping;
I heard a troop of the hoppers pass —
Child, old woman, and boy and lass —
Trudging over the long wet grass,
All going a-hopping.
I know the hop garden, fresh and green,
Where, month after month, the hops we've seen
Climbing the tall poles, and between.
In beautiful wreaths down dropping.
I know the gate, where, if you'll stand,
You'll see the hop-pickers in a band.
Loud and merry, ragged and tann'd.
Spread over the field a-hopping.
Who'll turn out of their early beds,
Pat on old frocks, old hats on their heads,
And before the sun his hot beams sheds
The eastern hill o'er-topping,
LEARNING TO SWIM.
31
Who'll come and spend the morning gay.
In gypsy fashion — half work, half play —
Who'll go a-hopping ?
Author of^^ John Halifax.^
Hops are grown both in England
and the United States. In Cen-
tral New York there are great
fields of them. In the spring
the vines are trained on tall
poles, and they become great
masses of beautiful green. Sep-
tember is the time when the
flowers are ready to be gath-
ered. They are used in brew-
ing and as medicine.
Gypsies. — A race of people who
wander from place to place,
living in tents, doing only so
much work as is needful to
supply their daily wants.
3i*<C
IX.
sep-a-ra-ted
op-po-site
o-ver-board
cap-sized
sh-ud-dered
fa-mous-ly
com-pan-ion
per-ceived
tLol-lowed
rec-ol-lec-tion
im-por-tant
sliel-tered
LEARNING TO SWIM.
1. "Toby," said Digby Heathcote, "I want to
learn how to swim."
" Then come along, master," replied the old
man ; and they rowed across to a quiet little bay,
with a sandy shore, sheltered by rocks, on the side
of the river opposite the town. " Pull off your
clothes, master," said Toby, as they were still
some little way from the shore.
2. Digby did as he was bid. " Now jump over-
32 FOURTH READER.
board/' added Toby. Digby stood up, but as he
looked into the water and could see no bottom,
he shuddered at the thought of plunging in.
Toby passed a band round his waist with a rope
to it, but Digby had hardly perceived this — he
felt himself pushed, and over he went, heels over
head, under the water.
3. " Oh, I'm drowning, I'm drowning ! " he
cried out, when he came to the surface.
" Oh, no, you're not, master, you're all right,"
said the old man. " Strike out for the shore, and
see if you can't swim there."
Digby did strike out, but wildly, and not in a
way that would have kept him afloat.
4. " That's the way you'd have done if the boat
was capsized, and you'd have drowned yourself
and any one who came to help you," remarked
Toby 3 "but catch hold of this oar. Now strike
away with your feet, right astern ; not out of the
water though ; keep them lower down.
5. "That's the way to go ahead. Steady,
though; strike both of them together. Slow,
though, slower. We're in no hurry — there's
plenty of time ; you can learn the use of your
hands another day. Draw your legs well under
you. Now, as I give the word, strike out, draw
LEARNING TO SWIM. 33
up. That will do famously. If you keep steadily
at it, you'll learn to swim in a very few days."
6. Digby felt rather tired when he and the boat at
length reached the shore. He had some notion that
he had towed her there, which he had not, though.
He had learned an important part in the art of
swimming. When he came out of the water, and
had dressed, Toby showed him how to use his hands.
7. " Now, Master Heathcote, look here. Do as
I do." Toby put his hands together, with the
fingers straight out and close to each other, and
the palms slightly hollowed. Then he brought
them up to his breast, and darting them forward,
separated his hands and pressed them backwards
till he brought his elbows down to the hips, close
to his body, and again turned his wrists till his
hands once more got back to the position with
which he had started.
8. He made Digby do this again and again, till
he was quite eager to jump into the water and
put his knowledge into practice.
9. "No, no, master," said Toby, "you've had
bathing enough to-day. Just you keep on doing
those movements whenever you have a spare
moment, and to-morrow we'll see how well you
can do them in the water."
34 FOURTH READER.
10. Digby was certain that not only would he
do them perfectly, but that he should be able to
swim any distance. Toby said nothing, but his
nose curled up in its quiet funny way.
11. The next day was very fine, and all the
boys came down to bathe, and to see Digby
swim, as he boasted he could do perfectly well.
They crossed over to the bay, all of them getting
ready for a plunge.
12. "Now Digby," cried Marshall, when they
got near the shore, " overboard we go."
" All right," cried Digby, putting his hands into
the correct position as far as he could remember
it; and, with great courage, he jumped into the
water.
13. Somehow or other, he could not tell why,
down he went some way under the surface, and
when he came up he had forgotten all about the
way to strike out which Toby had taught him.
Instead of that he flung about his arms and
kicked his legs out in the wildest manner, and
would have gone down again had not Marshall
swam up alongside him, and putting his hand
under his chin, told him to keep perfectly quiet
till he had collected his senses.
14. He had courage enough to do this, and was
LEARNING TO SWIM. 35
surprised to iind himself floating on the surface
of the water with so little support.
'^ Bravo, Master Marshall/' cried Toby. "Now
strike out, Master Heathcote, as I showed you."
15. The recollection of how to strike out came
back to Digby, and to his great delight he found
himself making some progress towards the shore,
his friend still holding him up by the chin.
" Let me go, I am sure I can swim alone," he
cried.
16. Marshall did so, but, after a few strokes,
down he went, and again he forgot what he
had done so well on dry land. His feet, how-
ever, touched the bottom, and, hopping on one
leg, he went on, striking out with his hands, and
fancying that he was swimming, till he reached
the shore.
17. His companions, of course, laughed at him,
but he did not mind that, and running in again,
he made one or two more successful attempts, but
he did not boast any more of the distance he was
going to swim. When once again he had gone
out till the water reached his chin, he found the
boat close to him.
18. "Don't be swimming any more, Master
Heathcote, but give me your hand," said Toby,
36
FOUETH READER.
taking it. " There, now throw yourself on your
back, stick your legs out, put your head back as
far as it will go ; now don't move, let your arms
hang down. There, I'll hold you steady j a
feather would do it. Now you feel how the
water keeps you up.
19. " There, you might stay there for an hour,
or a dozen hours for that matter, if it wasn't for
the cold, in smooth water. You'll learn to swim
in a very few days now, I see, without your
clothes, and then you must learn with your
clothes on. If I couldn't have done that, I
should not have been here; I should have been
drowned long ago."
20. Thus talking, the old man let Digby float
by the side of the boat till he had been long
enough in the water, and then he helped him
out and made him dress quickly.
Perceived. — Noticed.
Capsized. — Upset.
Shuddered. — Shook and trem-
bled.
Astern. — Backwards.
Put his knowledge into prac-
tice. — Show that he could do
what he had learned.
Collected his senses. — Gained
presence of mind, or, become
. quiet enough to think.
Sheltered. — Protected.
Which paragraphs of the lesson give directions for swimming?
Make the motions with the hands that Digby was to practice.
How was he to place himself for floating?
HOW TO MAKE THE BEST OF IT. 37
X.
peas-ant on-ions fer-ret-ing mea-ger
de-li-cious di-o-cese ac-quaint-ance shrieked
HOW TO MAKE THE BEST OF IT.
1. Robinet, a peasant of Lorraine, after a hard
day's work at the next market-town, was runnhig
home with a basket in his hand. " What a deli-
cious supper I shall have," said he to himself.
"This piece of kid, well stewed down, with my
onions sliced, thickened with my meal, and sea-
soned with my salt and pepper, will make a dish
fit for the bishop of the diocese. Then I have a
good piece of barley loaf at home to finish with.
How I long to be at it ! "
2. A noise in the hedge now attracted his
notice, and he spied a squirrel nimbly running
up a tree, and popping into a hole between the
branches. "Ha!" thought he, "what a nice
present a nest of young squirrels will be to my
little master! I'll try if I can get it." Upon
this, he set down his basket in the road, and
began to climb up the tree. He had half ascend-
ed, when casting a look at his basket, he saw a
dog with his nose in it, ferreting out the piece of
38
FOURTH READER.
kid's flesh. He made all possible speed down, but
the dog was too quick for him, and ran off with
the meat in his mouth. Robinet looked after him
— "Well," said he, "then I must be contented
with soup-meagre — and no bad thing neither."
3. He travelled on, and came to a little public-
house by the road side, where an acquaintance of
his was sitting on a bench. Robinet seated him-
self by his friend, and set his basket on the bench
close by him. A tame raveu; which was kept at
HOW TO MAKE THE BEST OF IT. 39
the house, came slyly behind him, and perching
on the basket, stole away the bag in which the
meal was tied up, and hopped off with it to his
hole.
4. Robinet did not perceive the theft till he had
got on his way again. He returned to search for
his bag, but could hear no tidings of it. "Well,"
says he, " my soup will be the thinner, but I will
boil a slice of bread with it, and that will do it
some good at least."
5. He went on again, and arrived at a little
brook, over which was laid a narrow plank. A
young woman coming up to pass at the time,
Eobinet gallantly offered his hand. Either
through fear or sport, as soon as she was got
to the middle, she shrieked out and cried she
was falling.
6. Eobinet, hastening to support her with his
other hand, let his basket drop into the stream.
As soon as she was safe over, he jumped in and
recovered it, but when he took it out, he perceived
that all the salt was melted, and the pepper
washed away.
7. Nothing was now left but the onions. "Well,"
says Eobinet, "then I must sup to-night upon
roasted onions and barley bread. Last night I
40
FOUKTH READER.
had the bread alone. To-morrow morning it will
not signify what I had." So saying, he trudged
on, singing as before.
Evenings at Home.
Diocese. — The district that a
bishop has charge of in mat-
ters of religion.
Attracted. — Drawn to.
Ferreting. — Picking out, as a
ferret (kind of weasel) does.
Acquaintance. — A person he
knew.
Tidings. — News.
Meagre (meger). — Thin, poor.
Support. — Hold up, sustain.
Recovered. — Got again, rescued.
Signify. — Matter, be of impor-
tance.
Lorraine. — A province, formerly
of France, but now under the
government of Germany.
Gallantly. — Courteously, politely.
>5«4c
XI.
rough,
au-tumn
pa-tience
grudge
be-longed
h.eath.-er
me-mo-ry
neigli-bor
THE EAGLE'S NEST. — Part I.
1. '^ Father, father, it is going to be a splendid
day," cried Donald Mac Ian, as he opened the
door of his little cottage home, high among the
mountains.
The first rays of the sun were just touching
the top of Ben More, the great mountain above
the little house, and made the purple heather
brighten. There was not a cloud to be seen in
all the sky.
THE EAGLE S NEST.
41
2. " That is well, Donald/' answered his father,
" for I have a long way to take to-day, to visit
my cousin, and the walk seems but half as long
on a fine day. Come, Donald, let the goats out,
and look after Brown Kate, the cow. We will
milk her quickly, and breakfast before I start."
3. " Oh ! Brown Kate is quite close," said Don-
ald. " I just saw her come past neighbor Morse's
42 FOUKTII KEADEK.
house, along the valley. She is as clever as a
woman, and knows well that we want our break-
fast. But what is going to happen now ? Neigh-
bor Morse is driving Brown Kate into his own
cow-house !
4. "Neighbor, neighbor!" cried Donald, putting
his hands to his mouth as a trumpet ; " that is our
cow. Do you hear ? That is Brown Kate."
" Oh ! I hear," answered a rough voice from
below. "But I have a fancy for this cow, and
I mean to keep her. You can tell your father
that if he wants her he may come and fetch her."
5. "Father!" shouted Donald, who was still
standing in the doorway ; " neighbor Morse says
he is going to keep Brown Kate. Do come out
and stop him.",
Duncan Mac Ian came out quickly, and saw
that, as Donald had said, his neighbor was driv-
ing the cow into his own cow-house.
"What's the meaning of this, John Morse?" he
shouted.
6. "You don't seem to understand," returned
the other. " You have quite forgotten, no doubt,
that you owe me forty shillings ever since last
winter, and that you promised, for the tenth time,
to pay me yesterday. As your memory is so
THE eagle's NESl. 43
short, I am just going to keep the cow to remind
you. She can come on a visit to my cows until
I see my forty shillings again."
7. Duncan Mac Ian frowned, and bit his lip.
"You know well," he said, "that I could not
pay you. My good wife's illness and death took
all my little savings. But you know, too, that I
am an honest man, and you need not be so hard
upon me. That is not being a good neighbor,
John."
8. " Neighbor, indeed ! " growled John Morse.
" The cow is mine till I get my money."
With these words he turned away, and went
into his snug white house.
9. " Father," said Donald, in a vexed tone,
when John Morse was no longer to be seen ;
" have you to put up with that ? I would not
bear it, if I were you."
"Hush, my laddie! " said his father. " I grant
you it is not nice or kind of John Morse to be
so hard upon his poorer neighbor ; but he can do
what he pleases^ for I owe him the money. That
I cannot deny.
10. " If it had been possible, I would have paid
him long, long ago ; but your poor mother's
illness and death made it quite out of the ques-
44 FOURTH READER.
tion. Patience, patience ! My cousin will lend
me the forty shillings if I ask him, and then
John Morse must give up our dear Brown Kate.
To-morrow we will have her back."
11. " That we willy father/' the boy said, firmly.
"We must and will have her back. This very
day he shall give her up. Shame upon the rich
man! What makes him behave in this way?"
" I will tell you," replied his father. " He has
coveted Brown Kate for a long time, because she
is the best cow for miles round. Last autumn he
offered me a good price for her, and, because I
did not take it, he has a grudge against me."
12. "Well, you go on your way, father," said
Donald. " I will get the good cow back to-day.
I say I- will, and you know if I say a thing I
mean it." His father smiled.
"What pranks have you in your head, laddie?"
he asked. "For pity's sake do not have high
words with John Morse. You will only make
the matter ten times worse. Don't do anything
rash, Donald."
13. "Do I look as if I would?" said Donald,
drawing himself to his full height. Duncan Mac
Ian looked with pleasure and pride at his boy's
tall, well-made figure.
THE EAGLE S NEST.
45
" Well, you are a child no longer," said he.
"You are sixteen years old, Donald, and the
mountain air has made you strong and sturdy.
But I should like to know what you have in your
mind."
14. " But I should like not to tell you, daddy,"
said Donald. "It is nothing wrong. Will that
set your mind at rest ? "
" Well, well, if it is nothing wrong ; and now
I must be gone," said Duncan, who had been
eating a little oat cake, which was very dry
without Brown Kate's milk. "Now remember,
Donald," he said, as he went out, "no pranks,
if you please."
Heather. — A shrub bearing beau-
tiful flowers, and keeping green
all the year; used in Scotland
for baskets, brooms, etc.
To put up with. — To bear with-
out complaint.
Sturdy. — Hardy, robust.
Ben. — Used before the name of
a mountain, is the same as
mount in our country.
Clever. — Wise.
Out of the question. —Not to be
thought of, impossible.
Coveted. — Desired very much.
A grudge. — 111 will because of
some advantage possessed by
another.
Mac is common before Scotch
surnames.
Donald and Duncan are common
Scotch christian names.
GENERAI. KNOWI.EDGE.
Find out all you can about Scotland and the ways of Scotch
people.
46
FOURTH READER.
pinch.-ing
XII.
scan-ty rus-set
"Wheat-stack
ROBIN REDBREAST.
Good-by, good-by to Summer,
For Summer's nearly done ;
The garden smiling faintly,
Cool breezes in the sun;
Our thrushes now are silent,
Our swallows flown away,
But Robin's here, in coat of brown,
With ruddy breast-knot gay.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
Robin dear!
Robin singing sweetly
In the falling of the year.
ROBIN REDBREAST. 47
Bright yellow, red, and orange,
The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian Princes,
But soon they'll turn to ghosts;
The scanty pears and apples
Hang russet on the bough ;
It's Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late,
' Twill soon be Winter now.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
Robin dear !
And what will this poor Robin do.
For pinching days are near ?
The fireside for the cricket.
The wheatstack for the mouse,
When trembling night- winds whistle
And moan all round the house ;
The frosty ways like iron.
The branches plumed with snow, —
Alas ! in Winter dead and dark.
Where can poor Robin go ?
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
Robin dear !
And a crumb of bread for Robin,
His little heart to cheer.
W. Allingham.
48 FOURTH READER.
XIII.
dai-ry En-glisb.-maii sal-mon prec-i-pice
ea-glet sov-er-eign dan-ger-ous ear-nest
THE EAGLE'S NEST. — Part II.
1. Donald watched his father climb the moun-
tain. " It is nothing wrong, but it is no small
matter either that I have in hand/' he said to
himself. " But now I must see to the goats."
2. The goats came at his call. Donald milked
them, and put the milk in pans in a cool little
dairy. He took a small axe, and put it in his
belt, and a sharp knife in his pocket; put some
bread and a bottle of goat's milk in a leather
bag, and took in his hand a strong stick with
a sharp iron point. Then he looked for a piece
of strong cord, and went out of the cottage.
3. Away he went quickly down the valley.
The sun was still low in the east, but he had
some distance to go, and he whistled or sang as
he went along, till he came to a little inn, from
which there was a splendid view over the moun-
tains.
4. "Good morning, Donald Mac Ian," said a
waiter who was going in and out, getting break-
THE eagle*s nest. 49
fast ready. "Are you come to go fishing or
shooting with the English gentlemen to-day?"
5. " No, I am not ; but I want to see the Eng-
lish gentleman that came last week — Dr. Mayne,
I mean," said Donald.
" Here he comes," said the waiter, as a gentle-
man came down stairs calling loudly for his break-
fast.
6. " Directly, directly, sir ! " cried the waiter ;
and as the gentleman came to the inn door
Donald touched his cap and went to him. " Ah,
my man ! " said the Englishman, " have you come
to tell me of another big salmon — eh ? "
7. "Not to-day, sir," said Donald. "I only
wanted to know if you were in earnest the other
day, when you said you would gladly give a sov-
ereign to any one who would bring you an eagle's
nest."
8. "An eagle's nest? Yes, indeed. But the
nest would not be of much use to me. I want
the young birds."
9. "And I know where there is a nest with
young birds in it," said Donald. " I watched the
eagles yesterday sailing here and there, and at
last I tracked them out to the wildest bit of all
our mountains, sir."
50 FOURTH READER.
10. " Go and get me them/' cried the English-
man. " Get me them as quickly as possible, and
I will give you a sovereign, my boy."
11. " Ah, but that is just it ! " said Donald,
quickly. "1 want more than that; I want two
sovereigns, sir. Then I will risk any danger to
get them. Could you give me two sovereigns ? "
The Englishman frowned. " What ! " he said.
" So young, and already so anxious for money ! "
12. "No, sir; you mistake me," cried Donald.
" It is not that. If it were only for myself I
would get you the eaglets gladly, and ask noth-
ing."
" Indeed ! " said the gentleman ; " and what
makes you want money so much, then?"
13. Donald was silent for a moment. Then,
fearing he would lose the chance of buying back
Brown Kate, he told the gentleman his story.
" So you are willing to face the danger for your
father's sake ? " said the Englishman.
"Willing, sir? I have made up my mind to
doit."
14. "And is it so very dangerous?" asked the
gentleman. Donald laughed ; then he said,
gravely, —
" It is dangerous, sir ; there is no doubt
THE eagle's, nest. 51
about that. The only way one can get to the nest
is by climbing along a narrow ridge, like the back of
a knife, with fearful precipices on both sides. But,
please God, I shall go safe, and come back safe."
15. " Then you will risk your life," said the gen-
tleman. " Well, then, bring me the birds, and the
two sovereigns are yours that moment." "Thank
you, sir," said Donald, and turned to go.
" Stop, stop ! " cried the gentleman. " I wished
to try if you really meant to go, but I have
changed my mind. I do not think I care at all
to have an eagle's nest."
16. Donald's face fell. " Go home, my boy,"
said his friend. " Go home without broken bones.
Ah ! but you need not look so vexed. You shall
have the money, and I will do without the eaglets.
Here, take this."
52
FOURTH READER.
17. He held two shining pieces of gold out to
Donald, who drew back. " Come, take them," he
said, smiling. " I give them gladly. Take them
and go, or I shall be very angry, and not want to
know about any more salmon."
At last Donald took the money. He thanked
the kind friend most heartily, and then went
away.
18. He walked along quietly till he was well
out of hearing of the inn ; then he capered about,
and fairly shouted aloud with joy.
" Oh, pretty Brown Kate, you shall be ours
again to-day — you shall, you shall! Oh, father,
how glad you will be ! " Then he grew grave
again. "But Dr. Mayne must have his eaglets
too : that is quite certain," he said to himself.
Directly. — Presently, without de-
lay.
Heartily. — Earnestly, with all
the heart.
Inn. — Home for travellers.
Dairy. — The room or place where
milk is kept, and butter or
cheese is made.
Eaglets. — Young eagles.
Sovereign. — Twenty English
shillings, or a little less than
five U. S. dollars.
Tracked. — Followed, by watching
the way.
Precipice. — A steep, rocky de-
scent.
Ridge. — The highest part of a
range of hills or mountains.
Salmon. — Those here men-
tioned are probably Salmon
Trout ; beautiful fresh-water
fish which are abundant in the
rivers of Scotland. They go up
from the sea at spawning time.
THE eagle's nest. 53
XIV.
isth-mus circ-ling tlirob-bing fash.-ion
stead-i-ly flushed al-read-y climbed
sud-den-ly nest-led bruised swoop
THE EAGLE'S NEST. — Part III.
1. It was still early and quite cool when Donald
came for the second time out of the cottage ; but
this time he did not take the path that goes down
into the valley. He turned the other way, and
climbed steadily up the mountain.
2. It was steep enough to make any one feel
quite out of breath ; but Donald had been used
from a baby to climb the steepest places. He did
not care, but went on steadily. He stood at last
upon the top, and looked back.
3. The mountain air blew fresh upon his flushed
face. He could see for miles and miles over the
rolling mountains, with a river foaming among
them, and deep down in the valleys, or nestled on
the hillsides, he could see the white houses, where
the women were busy at their work.
4. Then he turned and looked the other way.
Sharp, rocky peaks rose before him. He had
climbed a steep and high mountain already, but
he would have to climb a long way yet along
54 FOURTH HEADER.
narrow ledges, where, if his head grew dizzy for a
moment, if he made one false step, he would most
certainly be killed.
5. Then his father would come home and look
for him. How lonely his father would be if he
were killed !
Worse still, he might not be killed at once, but
lie bruised and with broken bones at the foot of
some great rock, where no one could hear him call,
till he died of hunger.
6. For a moment Donald thought of all this, but
it was only for a moment. Then he turned and
began his climb, not in a hurry, but quietly,
steadily.
Often his foot slipped a little upon the bare
rocks or the heather ; but he fixed his sharp stick
firmly into the ground at every step he took, and
went on slowly.
7. Sometimes he had to walk along a narrow
ledge on the side of a fearful rock, clinging to the
side of the cliff, and knowing well that he must
not look down into the depths below, or he would
certainly lose his head and his footing.
8. It was very still all round. He could hear
the wild mountain torrents, and the tinkle of a
goat's bell far away. Nothing else was to be
THE eagle's nest. 55
heard, except now and then the wild scream of
an eagle, which he could see rise and sail high
in the air, and then swoop suddenly down upon
its prey.
9. Donald had now reached the last and most
dangerous part of his journey. This was an edge
of rock like an isthmus, which led to the high,
flat place on which one nest was perched, with
terrible depths surrounding it on every side but
one.
10. This flat place the eagles had chosen for
their nest, and it certainly seemed that they could
not have found a better place to protect them
from any living enemy.
11. To walk along this ledge was hopeless for
any one but a rope-dancer, and even such a man
might have trembled at the awful danger. But
Donald could creep on his hands and knees, cling-
ing tightly to the cliff. For some distance he
went on in this fashion, and, to his great joy, he
could now hear the hoarse but feeble cries of the
hungry little eaglets. "^
12. This sound gave him new strength. But
now he came to a place where he could not even
creep, and the only way to get on was to go
astride. Donald did so, and with great care
56 FOURTH READER.
moved on, while hope almost made him forget
the peril he was in.
13. But suddenly a sound fell upon his ears,
which made his heart for a moment stand still.
It was a short, sharp cry, which seemed to come
from the sky above him. Donald did not need to
look up to know that the mother-eagle was cir-
cling high in the air above him, as is the custom
of those birds before dropping down upon their
nest.
14. He knew the cry well, and he knew too
that, if the mother-eagle saw him, she would at-
tack him with her great claws and beak, flapping
her huge wings about him. If she did so, he
must he dashed from his perch, and thrown into
that awful depth, where a dark mountain lake
lay far, far below him.
15. In a moment he did the only thing that
could be of the least use : he laid himself face
downwards upon the sharp rock, keeping himself
as still as the rock itself, and breathing a prayer
to Heaven for help.
16. He could hear his own heart beat so loudly
that he thought the eagle must hear it too. But
in this worst of dangers help came. The young
eaglets, seeing their mother, set up a loud scream-
THE eagle's nest. 57
ing, and grew so eager for their food, that in a
moment she came down upon the nest with a fish
in her claws, which she had just taken in the lake.
17. The young ones fell upon their dinner at
once, and the mother, after watching them for a
moment or two, darted away again down into
the valley, with the speed of an arrow.
Lose his head. — Grow dizzy, and
so be in danger of falling.
Isthmus. — A narrow neck lead-
ing to a broader place.
Peril. — Danger.
Custom. — Habit,
False step. — An unsafe step.
^J«<c
en-tered virar-bling roun-de-lay min-strels
heav-en-ly liun-dred liar-mo-ny laugli-ter
THE LINNET CHOIR.
A linnet choir sang in a chestnut crown, —
A hundred, p'r'aps, or more, —
Till the stream of their song ran warbling down
And entered a cottage door;
And this was the burden of their lay.
As they piped in the yellow tree : —
"I love my sweet little lady-bird.
And I know that she loves me :
58 FOURTH READER.
' Chip, chip, cherry chip, cherry, cherry, cherry
chip ! '
We linnets are a merry band,
A happy company."
It chanced a poet passed that way,
With a quick and merry thought.
And, listening to the roundelay.
His ear their language caught :
Quoth he, as he heard the minstrels sing,
"What heavenly harmony!
I shall steal that song, and carry it home
To my dear family —
' Chip, chip, cherry chip, cherry, cherry, cherry
chip!'"
And that song they sing now every eve.
His children, wife, and he.
Next came a boy, with a curly head,
And laughter-lighted eye,
" I've a cage at home, sweet birds," he said,
" And I'll catch you by and by ;
My sister would feed and love you well.
My mother would happier be ;
Come, tell me," he said, " my little birds,
Shall I take you home with me ?
THE LINNET CHOIR.
59
' Chip, chip, cherry chip, cherry, cherry, cherry
chip ! ' "
And all that night the little boy dreamt
He heard the birds in the tree.
Edward Capern.
Choir {quire), — A body, or com-
pany, of singers.
Lay, roundelay. — Song.
Burden. — Chorus, refrain.
Quoth. — Said.
Minstrel. — Songster, musician.
Harmony. — Agreeable combina-
tion of sounds ; music.
The Linnet is one of the song
birds of Europe. Its voice is
not loud, but very pleasant. It
is a brown bird, except at mat-
ing time, when its crest and
breast feathers are bright red.
Linnets thrive well in cages,
but never have the bright colors.
In the United States they are
only seen in cages.
A READING REVIEW.— For Expression.
In the fifteen lessons you have read, there have been calls for
great changes of tone and manner. Reading, like talking, is much
more pleasant if the voice helps to show the sense.
1. From His Sister's Story, choose sentences to read that show
Hilda's tone when she reads from her own story, and when she
speaks to Fred on pages 2, 10, and 11.
2. Read for Fred, in the short sentences he uses to explain his
doings, as Hilda reads.
3. Read from the story of the Cat-Rabbit and from the Eagle's
Nest as if you were telling a story of your own, with no book,
and let the class judge whether you are using your natural voice.
4. Speak for the lady and the little girl in lines from Lesson VI.
5. Lessons VIII., XII., and XV. should not be read as if they
were written in prose. Give a slight musical ring to the lines, as
if each poem had a tune of its own which you could express.
6. In general, young readers need to learn to drop their voices
in many cases where there is little if any pause.
60 FOURTH READER.
XVI.
dis-a-bled strug-gles ledge weight
anx-ious loos-ened re-mained de-scent
gid-di-ness tie^^r-ing frag-ments h.ead-long
THE EAGLE'S NEST.— Part IV.
1. As soon as the mother eagle was gone, Don-
ald began to move again. He was anxious to
reach the nest, and get safe away with his prize
before she could return, and he could not tell how
soon that might be.
He therefore went on more quickly than was
really safe, and, as he did so, he loosened from
the side of the cliff a lump of stone. It fell down
the precipice, and Donald could not help looking
after it.
2. That was a very rash thing to do. He could
see the stone bound once, twice, against the face
of the cliff, and drag other pieces along with it.
At last it was lost to sight far below in a cloud of
dust and fragments.
3. A cold shiver ran through the boy's veins, a
dark mist swam before his eyes ; it seemed to him
as if the whole cliff were about to yield, and
would dash down, carrying him in its headlong
course. He had, in fact, almost fainted, and it
THE eagle's nest. 61
was only by laying himself once more flat upon
the narrow ledge that he was able to resist the
dreadful giddiness.
4. For at least a minute he lay thus, with trem-
bling limbs and throbbing temples, but presently
he grew calm again, and could dare to raise his
head.
5. He would not look down any more, that was
quite certain ; and, after waiting quietly for a few
minutes longer, he felt all his courage come back
again. " It is for father," he said to himself ;
" and I must not be killed, for father could not do
without me at all well."
6. And in a very short time he had reached the
foot of the high rock in safety. But there still
remained a hard thing to do. He could see now
that this flat rock was a good deal higher than the
ledge along which he had come. Worse still, the
sides of the rock were almost smooth : there was
not foot-hold for the most clever climber.
7. " After all, I cannot do it," thought Donald.
Even if he were to get up, it would be useless to
hope to climb down such a place, and if he re-
mained on the height the eagles would certainly
kill him.
8. Then he thought of his strong little axe, and
62 FOURTH READER.
in a moment lie was at work hewing out steps in
the very face of the rock. Happily for him, it
was not very hard rock, and Donald steadily
hewed and climbed, till at last his curly red head
and flushed face appeared over the edge, and
startled the little eaglets, who had never seen
such a thing as a human face before.
9. But the young eaglets had not much time
for thinking. There were two of them, queer,
half-fledged things, lying on the curious flat nest
which eagles make. Eound them lay fish-bones,
and other remains of their food. In a moment
Donald had seized first one and then the other,
and had stuffed them into the flat leather bag on
THE eagle's nest. 63
his back, in spite of their squealing cries. Now
his hands were free to begin the descent.
10. That was perhaps the hardest of alL But
he tried to think only of the next step, and to
forget that he was hanging in the air over an
immense depth. Carefully he put his feet into
each of the holes he had made, and then felt with
the other foot for the next step, but he never once
looked down.
11. Then he slowly turned round, pushed the
bag with the yelling eaglets round to his chest, for
fear the weight should slip to one side and drag
him down, and began to make his way back
across the sharp ledge.
He had just reached the point at which he
could begin to crawl, when suddenly he heard,
besides the cries of the young eagles, a wild
scream that could only come from the full-grown
bird. He pushed the bag round to his shoulders
again, and looked up. There was the mother-
eagle circling overhead, quite ready to attack
the robber of her nest.
12. Her wings beat the air so that they raised
quite a wind. Donald clung with all his strength
to the rock, knowing that most likely the other
eagle was not far off, and that in any case he had
64
FOURTH READER.
a fierce battle before him. The idea of a fight
for his life seemed to give him fresh strength.
Drawing out his axe again, he waited till the
huge bird swung round to attack him, and then
with all his might aimed a blow at her.
13. The blow was more successful than he could
have dared to hope. It struck the eagle in the
wing and disabled it. With a shrill cry she tried
another circle, but her wing failed, and she flut-
tered down the cliff, while her struggles to flap
the wounded wing made a shower of blood fly
from it.
14, Donald once more breathed freely ; he looked
round to see if the other eagle was anywhere in
sight, but no, there was no sign of him. As
quickly as possible he sank on all-fours, and
crept to the wider part of the ledge, while the
baby eagles yelled more loudly than before.
Rash. — Unwise, thoughtless.
Giddiness. — A feeling as if the
liead were reeling ; dizziness.
Disabled. — Injured so as to take
away some of its powers.
Yield. — To give way.
Resist. — Throw off, not give
way to.
Hovered. — Hung about, or over,
the place in the air.
THE eagle's KEST. 65
XVII.
fu-ri-ous gatli-ered stran-gle "wliir-ring
THE EAGLE'S NEST. — Part V.
1. But the mother-eagle gathered all her
strength together, and flew up again to Donald.
Seizing his shoulders in her strong claws, she
gave such a violent pull that, had he been still
upon the narrow ledge, the boy must surely have
fallen.
2. But now he was on a safer place, and he
turned and struck blow after blow with his axe
at the bird, while she hovered above him, scream-
ing, and trying to attack him with wings, and
beak, and claws.
3. At last one stroke was better than all the
rest ; with one deep groan the bird sank, with a
great wound in her breast, into the depths of the
valley, never to rise again. Poor bird, she had
done her best to save her little ones from the
robber !
4. Now that the fight was over, Donald began
to feel sorely tired. He lay down on the rock,
closed his eyes, and lay quite still, to gain
66 FOURTH READER.
strength to go back along the rest of the dread-
ful way.
5. Then he rose, and went safely on, till he
came to the last of the dangerous places. This
was a narrow path along the side of a cliff.
There was only room to put one foot before the
other, and below was again a precipice, or rather
a mass of sharp-pointed rocks, which it would be
death to fall upon.
6. And here, when he could scarcely move, he
heard again the whirring of great wings, and
a cry more hoarse and loud than that of the
mother-bird. There was no doubt that the poor
father had come back to find his ruined home.
How could Donald defend himself in this place,
where it was all he could do to walk along?
7. A piece of rock came rather more forward
than the rest, and in this a sort of bush was
firmly rooted. Clinging tightly to this bush
with his left arm, Donald got his trusty axe in
his right hand, and waited for the eagle's attack.
8. The great bird came swooping down, and
settled on his shoulders, beating him about the
face with its wings, and pecking wildly with its
huge beak. It was well for Donald that the
upper part of his leather bag partly saved him
from being torn by these pecks.
THE eagle's nest. 67
9. As it was, he felt he could not long bear
such an attack. He could not reach the bird
with his axe ; it was too close. He tried to catch
it by the throat, and strangle it, but the eagle was
too clever for him, and only pecked his hands.
Donald began to feel that he should be killed, as
others had been killed before him, by the furious
bird.
10. Donald's strength was fast failing ; a mist
swam before his eyes ; he began to feel there was
little use in struggling, when all at once he
thought of his knife. It was in his coat pocket,
safe, but closed ; he drew it out, and managed
to open the strong blade with his teeth. With
the little sharp blade in his hand, he was again
a match for his enemy.
11. He thrust at its breast once, twice, three
times, and the last time he felt that he must have
reached its heart, for the bird's blows ceased sud-
denly, and it loosened its hold upon his shoulders.
Then its wings drooped, and it fell heavily down
the rocks, and lay without motion in the valley
below. Donald was saved. He still felt faint
and sick from loss of blood and the great efforts
he had made ; but when he had drunk some of
the goat's milk from his bottle, he revived a little,
68
FOURTH READER.
and was able to cross the rest of the narrow path.
Then he only had to climb down the mountain
side, till he reached the valley where the eagle
lay dead.
12. It was a splendid golden eagle, very large
indeed. From the tip of one wing to the tip of
the other was about nine feet. Donald looked
at him with pride and delight; he knelt for a
THE eagle's nest. 69
moment upon the grass to give thanks for his
safety. Then rising, he tied the eagle's claws
together, so that he could carry it more easily.
Next he felt for his knife. It was nowhere to be
found ; he must have dropped it on the rocks
above.
13. "I shall leave it," he said. "I dare say
the gentleman would give me a new knife for
this big eagle if he knew how hard it was to get
him." Then he set off down the mountain side,
as fast as it was safe to go on the smooth heather.
He was not going home first, so he turned aside,
and went straight down to the little inn.
14. A party of travellers had just arrived, and
they looked with surprise at Donald, and then
crowded round to touch the eagle, and wonder
how such a lad had caught and killed such a
large and fierce bird.
15. But Donald would not stay to answer ques-
tions, and begged to be taken at once to Dr.
Mayne. "There they are, sir," he said, pulling
out the baby eaglets, which at once began to
gape, and cry again for food. "I expect they
are hungry, sir," said Donald.
" But my boy," cried Dr. Mayne ; " what a
state you are in ! What has happened ?
70 FOURTH READER.
16. So Donald told him all the story, and Dr.
Mayne at once rang, and ordered some food for
the eaglets, and a dinner for Donald as well.
" But I want to know what you mean by risking
life and limb for those birds when I told you I
did not want them," he said more gravely.
"I was not going to be paid for doing noth-
ing, sir, and I knew you only said you did not
want the birds because you thought I might be
hurt."
17. " You are a brave boy, and truthful, too,"
said the gentleman ; '^ but do not forget in days
to come that life is too precious to be lightly
thrown away." He promised to give Donald a
new suit of clothes and a knife, and to visit him
at his home next day, and then told him to hurry
home, for his father might be anxious.
18. Duncan Mac Ian was sitting sadly in his
house, having just seen his neighbor drive Brown
Kate in to the evening milking. His cousin had
not been able to lend him the money, and he was
wondering what to do, when Donald rushed in,
threw his arms round his neck, then flew to the
cupboard, took out the gold pieces, and put them
in his father's hand.
19. "She is ours, father ! " he cried.
THE eagle's nest. 71
Duncan looked at the money, then at his boy.
"Donald," he said, "did you come by this
money honestly ? " But when he heard the whole
story he turned pale. " You did it for my sake,
Donald, my good boy ! But what should I have
done if " He could say no more, and Donald
threw his arms round his father's neck, and laid
his cheek against his.
20. The next morning Dr. Mayne came up, as
he had said. He praised Donald's courage, and
thanked him again, and then took out a crisp
new bank-note for five pounds, and laid it on
the table.
" That is for the big eagle," he said.
"'Why, sir," cried Donald, "a new knife, and
clothes, and then all that ! The eagle was not
worth a quarter of it. Besides, I had to kill him
to save myself."
21. "That's true, sir," said Duncan. "Take
back your money, you have done too much."
"If you will not have it," said Dr. Mayne,
"at least you must take it for Donald. It will
bo something for him to begin life with."
22. " He has already a brave heart, sir," said his
father. "That is one of the best things a poor
man can start life with."
72 FOUKTH READER»
" Or any other man/' said Dr. Mayne.
In after years Dr. Mayne took Donald to be his
gamekeeper.
" I knew I could trust him/' he said ; and
Donald's friend has not lived to regret his kind-
ness.
Clever. — Wise, skilful.
Revived. — Recovered from f aint-
ness.
Precious. — Valuable.
Regret kindness. — Be sorry for
having exercised it.
TALES OUT OF SCHOOL. — Penmanship. I.
How well you write, cousin Harry.
Do I ? I ought to, then, for we are at it all our spare time at
school. Besides writing the words at the head of the reading les-
son every day, and all the capitals and small letters once a week,
we copy a piece of poetry every week in our blank books. I'll show
you. My book is almost full of poems.
I don't see how you can do it so well.
We have the book we copy from open so as to see how to begin
the lines, and where to put in punctuation marks, and leave spaces
between the verses. The little crosses are where I made mistakes,
but there aren't many.
No ; and it is as easy to read as print.
We have had this kind of writing all the term. Next week we
shall have Dictation. That is writing without any copy what the
teacher reads. We shall not put that in the books.
That won't look so well.
I don't know. We are to be told the day before what we are to
write, and can study it all we wish ; and we are going to correct
each other's work.
Do you know the rules for the use of capitals ?
No ; what are they ?
Begin every sentence and every line of poetry with a capital f
the days of the week ; the months ; and I and O used as words.
BIRDS IN SUMMER. 73
XVIII. .
frol-ic-some trav-erse skim-ming pierge
blos-som-ing furze wlieel-ing re-gions
BIRDS IN SUMMER.
How pleasant the life of a bird must be !
Flitting about in each leafy tree ;
In the leafy trees so broad and tall,
Like a green and beautiful palace hall
With its airy chambers light and boon,
That open to sun, and stars, and moon,
That open into the bright blue sky
And the frolicsome winds as they wander by.
They have left their nests in the forest bough.
Those homes of delight they need not now.
And the young and the old they wander out
And traverse their green world round about ;
And, hark ! at the top of this leafy hall
How one to the other they lovingly call ;
" Come up ! come up ! " they seem to say,
'^ Where the topmost twigs in the breezes sway -,
" Come up ! come up ! for the world is fair
Where the merry leaves da^nce in the summer air."
And the birds below give back the cry.
74 FOURTH READER.
" We come ! we come ! to the branches high ! "
How pleasant the life of a bird must be,
Flitting about in a leafy tree !
And away through the air what joy to go
And to look on the bright green earth below.
How pleasant the life of a bird must be !
Skimming about on the breezy sea,
Cresting the billows like silvery foam,
Then wheeling away to its cliff-built home ;
What joy it must be to sail upborne
By a strong, free wing through the rosy morn,
To meet the young sun face to face
And pierce like a shaft the boundless space.
How pleasant the life of a bird must be !
Wherever it listeth there to flee ;
To go when a joyful fancy calls
Dashing adown 'mong the waterfalls,
Then wheeling about with its mates at play
Above and below and among the spray,
Hither and thither with screams as wild
As the laughing mirth of a rosy child.
What joy it must be like a living breeze
To flutter about 'mong the flowering trees.
papa's story of the butterfly. 75
Lightly to soar and to see beneath
The wastes of the blossoming purple heath
And the yellow furze like fields of gold
That gladden some fairy regions old ;
On mountain tops, on the billowy sea,
On the leafy stems of the forest tree.
How pleasant the life of a bird must be !
Mary Howitt.
XIX.
tomb TAnrig-gled sti-fling spec-i-mens
flu-id t-wist-ed co-coon tongue
incli-es in-ter-est sug-gest-ed spe-cies
PAPA'S STORY OF THE BUTTERFLY.
1. I was at play in the garden one cold autumn
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
gathered about me, and as we were sure it was a
chance to learn something of butterfly-life, we sent
to ask my aunt Sophia to come too.
3. She told us the butterfly was spinning a sticky
76 FOURTH READER.
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 the air out too, and did not see
what was to save the poor creature from stifling.
Before he had finished his waterproof coat it
seemed more like a tomb than the covering of
a living thing. One of the boys suggested that
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 mantel in my bedroom, and then,
boy-like, forgot the whole matter.
PAPAS STORY OF THE BUTTERFLY. 77
6. One summer morning 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 mantel, to my great surprise, the cater-
pillar cocoon was shaking, and from one end
something was pushing itself out.
7. It proved to be a tooth nibbling at the end
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 and see "the strangest
thing that ever happened yet."
9. I can see the creature now in my mind. It
was of yellowish-brown color, and its wings w^hen
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 hol-
lowed tongue. I kept my prize for many
years, though to do so I had to shorten its
little life.
11. It was this that gave me my first interest
to study insects. " Did I ever tell you the story
78 FOURTH READER.
of one of Napoleon Bonaparte's generals, who
took such delight in collecting specimens of but-
terflies ? "
^^No, papa, I am sure you never did. Is it a
story? "
^^YeS; little Jack, a true story.
12. "Whenever General Dejian (for that was
his name) led his soldiers out in new countries he
sought for nevv^ species of insects, and when one
was found he pinned it upon his hat. The sol-
diers grew accustomed to see their general's hat,
even in battles, decorated with his treasures —
gay butterflies, jewelled beetles, and shining bugs.
13. " During a battle in Austria, while at Napo-
leon's side, a shot struck the general's head and
threw him senseless from his horse. Recovering
from the shock, he heard the emperor anxiously
asking, ' Is he still alive ? ' He answered, ' I am
alive, but alas, my insects are all gone,' for his
hat was completely torn in pieces."
14. "That's a nice story," said Harry; "but
does it not seem cruel to kill the poor things ? "
"We ought not to gain 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
PAPA S STORY OF THE BUTTERFLY.
79
show others their wonderful varieties and beau-
ties, 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 from a
sponge and knowing nothing while your broken
arm was being set?"
16. " Certainly I do."
"Well, if you had taken too much you might
have known nothing till now, only you would
never have had the power to awake. That is
what happens to the butterfly. All that he
knows is lighting on the 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."
Fluid. — Capable of flowing. The
air is a fluid because its particles
move about without separating
from the mass. Gas and all
liquids are fluids.
General. — One of the chief offi-
cers in an army.
Napoleon Bonaparte, — Emperor
of the French ; was born in 17G9,
and died in 1821.
Specimen. — A small portion, or
a single thing used as a sample
of the whole.
Species [spe-shez). — A variety
that he had not met before.
Species sometimes means class.
Tomb. — A house or vault for
the burial of the dead.
Suggested [sug-jest or sud -jest) . -^
Proposed, brought to mind.
80
FOURTH READER.
XX.
Ros-a-raond
bat-tered
scep-ter
prop-er-ty
con-ceit-ed
de-sert-ed
ch.ar-ac-ter
so-ci-e-ty
pre-serve
sur -prised
con-clu-sion
quar-relled
THE KING AND QUEEN'S QUARREL — Part I.
(TOLD BY A DOLL.)
1. I was very much pleased indeed, when I first
came into the world, to find that I was to become
the property of a king and queen. I had seen a
great deal of life through my shop-window, and
had come to the conclusion that I was formed for
high society. So therefore, when my new mistress
said to me, "Dolly, I am the queen to-day, and
THE KIKG AND QUEEn's QUARREL. 81
Bertie is the king," I was not at all surprised,
but held myself as firmly as before.
2. The king and queen sat together on one
chair, which I suppose is the constant habit of
kings and queens. They were both very nice
and neat, for the nurse had just brushed their
hair. The queen was four years old, and the
king was six. And they were both the very
prettiest of children.
3. The litfle queen had a blue print frock and
a little round face. She had pretty shy eyes that
looked x)ut from beneath a shock of curly hair.
The little king was very pretty too. And he
liked to play with dolls, which I always think
is a nice trait of character in a boy.
4. " Oh, what a lovely doll ! " cried the queen,
when she first saw me. I may repeat it without
vanity, for I suppose it was true. Anyway it is
exactly what everybody said the moment they set
eyes on me. People always praise dolls to their
faces, and that is what makes us look so conceited.
Even when we are old, and battered, and worn
out, we still preserve a rather conceited air — we
still look pleased and proud of ourselves so long
as there is one little child who loves us, and who
thinks us pretty still.
82 fou'rth reader.
5. The king and queen sat down together on
their throne, and were as happy as happy could
be. The little queen's feet dangled a good way
o:E the ground, but she did not mind that in the
least. She put one chubby arm round her brother
to keep her quite firm, and the other arm was
around me.
6. When a nice little fat, dimpled arm holds me
tightly against a loving heart, I feel pleased and
happy. If I were a pussy-cat I should purr, for
I feel that I am in my right place.
7. "Now I am king and you are queen,'* said
the little boy; "and everybody that comes in
must bow to us."
" Dolly shall be the princess," said the little girl,
in a voice like that of a cooing dove.
8. "Her name must be Rosamond," said the
little boy gravely. " That sounds something like
a princess."
"Wothamond," repeated the little girl, very
much pleased ; and she pressed me close to her
heart. Suddenly a cloud passed over the face
of the little boy. He looked at me hard for a
minute, and then he spoke.
9. " No, that won't do at all," he said ; " I am
an old French king, and we're under the French
THE KIKG AKD QTJEEN's QTJARHEL. 83
law. She mustn't be a princess, or she'll never
come to the throne. We must pretend she is
a prince, and we'll call her Jack."
10. You should have seen the little girl's face
at this. All the dimples went out of it, and she
looked quite frightened.
"Oh, don't call her Jack, dear," she cried; "it's
so ugly. And I'd rather she was a princess."
"Then she'll never come to the throne," said
the boy solemnly. "I read it lately in my his-
tory."
Here the little girl looked much inclined to cry.
11. " Oh, don't say she won't come to the
throne ! " she cried sadly. " I like my princess
Rosamond so much."
"She'll never come to the throne," said the
king, laying down the law with his forefinger;
"a princess is no good at all. She's a stupid."
12. "Well, she shan't be called Jack," said the
queen, plucking up a little spirit.
"' Then I shan't play," said the little king, at
once jumping down ofE the chair.
13. The little queen put her finger in her mouth,
and looked as if she did not quite know what to
do. She did not care to play without Bertie, but
she wanted to have her own way. She glanced at
84
FOUKTH HEADER.
Bertie out of the corner of her eye. He turned
his back to her directly, and would not look her
in the face. Yes, there was no doubt about it, —
she could tell it from the look of his shoulders, —
Bertie was in the sulks.
14. All their play was spoiled. The throne was
deserted, the sceptre laid down. They did not
care to be king or queen by themselves.
"I shall go down to mamma, then," said the
queen, and she put me down on the chair, and
went off.
15. For some time Bertie stood in the corner,
THE KING AND QUEEN S QUARREL.
85
looking very cross. Then lie looked round, and
began wondering when May would come back.
Next he began to cry.
16. " Naughty girl ! naughty girl ! I don't want
her to come back ! " and he took a piece of string
out of his pocket, and kept slashing it against his
sleeve as he spoke. Suddenly, in the midst of his
temper, he caught sight of me.
17. " Horrid doll ! " he cried ; " we should never
have quarrelled if it hadn't been for you ! You
shall be a boy," he added, sternly, "for I'll cut
all your hair off ! "
Trait. — Something in a person's
character.
Property. — Anything that be-
longs to a person.
Had come to the conclusion. —
Had made up her mind.
Shock. — A mass. Properly a
heap of sheaves of wheat or rye.
>J«ic
XXI.
scis-sors com-plex-ion un-stead-y cup-board
dang-ling friglit-ened scul-ler-y cliain-ber-lain
THE KING AND QUEEN'S QUARREL — Part II.
1. A shudder went through me. The nursery
scissors were lying on the table. He took them
up, and in a minute it was done. Clip, clip, went
86 FOURTH READER.
the scissors, as if they were pleased, and nearly
the whole of my flaxen curls lay scattered on the
floor. How I looked I don't know, but I think
Bertie was a little frightened when he saw what
he had done. I don't think he was anxious for
his sister to see me, for he jumped up on the fen-
der and put me on top of the mantel-piece.
2. Here I lay, with my feet dangling down off
the side, about as ill at ease as a doll could be.
Nearly all my hair was cut short, my hat had
fallen off in the fray, and I found myself in a
position of much discomfort, and even danger.
I could see nothing that went on in the room, and
the heat of the stove was fast melting my beauti-
ful complexion. I tried to look like a princess,
but it was hard.
3. The nursery door opened, and the little girl
came back. In a hainute she ran up to the chair
where she had left me, and then looked at her
brother.
4. " Where's dolly ? " she cried, and she looked
anxiously round.
"I shan't tell you," said Bertie, beginning to
look frightened.
5. "Oh, dolly, dolly! Where is my dolly?"
cried the little girl, and how I longed for a voice
THE KING AND QUEEn's QUARREL.
87
that could answer her. I could hear her going
all round the room, pulling open drawers and cup-
boards and hunting for me, but I never said a
word.
^tr<\
6. Suddenly I heard a cry. She had come to
the hearth-rug, where lay the scissors and nearly
all my beautiful flaxen curls on the floor.
7. " Oh, my dear dolly ! my dear dolly ! He's
cut off her hair. Oh, you cruel boy ! " cried the
little Queen, and she sat down and cried as if her
heart would break. Then she glanced up and
caught sight of where I lay quietly on the mantel-
piece, with my, eyes turned up to the ceiling.
88 FOURTH READER.
8. In a moment she was upon a chair and ready
to fetch me down, when, what with the chair
being unsteady and her eyes being full of tears,
the chair slipped beneath her, and down she fell
on the floor.
9. Poor little Queen ! she was in a very bad
way ! Her head fell against the fender, and hurt
her very much. She sobbed and cried both with
the fright and the pain. Nurse came running up,
and took her on her knee, and it was a long time
before she could console her.
10. "My dolly, my dolly!" she cried between
her tears, and the nurse took me down from the
mantel-piece and gave me to her. How she did
cry over me! I felt dreadfully vexed, because
tears are fatal to my complexion.
11. Bertie stood looking on frightened, and came
up to look at his sister.
" Go away, you naughty boy," cried nurse ; " it's
all your doing, and your sister will make herself
ill with crying."
12. When my little Queen heard Bertie being
blamed she grew very quiet all at once. She gave
her eyes a final wipe with her handkerchief, and
she got ofl nurse's knee and turned to Bertie.
Bertie was crying too, and he h^d gone quite white
THE KING AND QUEEN S QUARREL.
89
with the fright that he got when he saw little
May fall down.
13. " May, I am so sorry, dear," he said.
" Will you kiss me, dear, and make it up ? Do,
please."
No need to ask the little Queen twice. She
threw her little arms round Bertie.
14. "lam so sorry, May," he said. "I didn't
know you would have cared so much."
"Never mind, Bertie dear," said the little
Queen gently; and she tried to look cheerful,
though I knew she was grieved to the heart.
" Perhaps it's almost for the best," she whispered
90
FOURTH READER.
softly, "for now she can be prince or princess,
just whichever you like."
15. So they made it up, and cried and laughed
again, as is the way with these poor mortals. I
had remained calm all the time ; but the poor
little Queen had cried over me till she had washed
nearly all the color off my face.
16. I lived with the children for a long time
after this, but I never saw them quarrel again.
I took my part in many a game, and was some-
times a princess to please the Queen, and some-
times a prince because the King liked it best. I
have even been dressed up as the Lord Chamber-
lain before now, and sometimes I have taken the
part of the scullery-maid. But neither the King,
nor the Queen, nor I, have ever lost our temper
again, and I flatter myself that, whatever part I
have taken, I have borne myself with dignity.
Lucie Cobbe.
Console. — To comfort.
Fatal. — Sure to injure or destroy.
Final. — Last.
Mortals. — JIuman beings. Prop-
erly all "svho must die.
Borne myself. — Behaved.
Lord Chamberlain. — A high offi-
cer at a royal court.
Dangled. — Hung down.
Dignity. — A noble manner.
Scullery-maid. — A servant who
washes up plates and dishes.
I flatter myself. — I like to be-
lieve.
Complexion. — The color of a
face.
THE MILLER OF THE DEE.
91
XXII.
THE MILLER OF THE DEE.
There dwelt a miller hale and bold
Beside the river Dee;
He worked and sang from morn till night.
No lark more blithe than he ;
And this the burden of his song
Forever used to be, —
" I envy nobody ; no, not I,
And nobody envies me ! '*
92 FOURTH READER.
" Thou'rt wrong, my friend!" said old King
Hal,
" Thou rt wrong as wrong can be ;
For could my heart be light as thine,
I'd gladly change with thee.
And tell me now what makes thee sing,
With voice so loud and free.
While I am sad, though I'm the king,
Beside the river Dee ? "
The miller smiled and doffed his cap.
" I earn my bread," quoth he ;
" I love my wife, I love my friend,
I love my children three j
I owe no penny I cannot pay,
I thank the river Dee,
That turns the mill, that grinds the corn.
To feed my babes and me."
"Good friend," said Hal, and sighed the
while,
" Farewell ! and happy be ;
But say no more, if thou'st be true,
That no one envies thee.
Thy mealy cap is worth my crown.
Thy mill my kingdom's fee ;
THE MILLER OF THE DEE. 93
Such men as thou are England's boast,
miller of the Dee ! "
C. Mackay.
Hale. — Healthy.
Burden. — The theme or subject
most often repeated; so, the
chorus of a song.
Doffed. — " Doff " = do off; i.e.,
take off.
Quoth. — Said.
My kingdom's fee. — The owner-
ship or possession of my king-
dom.
Blithe. — Gay, merry, joyous.
>J*<c
XXIII.
s-wine-herd com-pan-ion cusli-ion un-fort-u-nate
pos-i-tive-ly o-bliged sig-ni-fy par-tic-u-lar-ly
THROUGH THE WOOD; or,
The Servant of All. — Part I.
1. "Carl," said his master, "you have been my
faithful swineherd these three years, and as yet
I have given you nothing ; go and sell the half of
my herd in the town that lies at the other side of
the forest, and the money shall be yours."
" Mine ! my own ! " said Carl to himself, as he
drove the swine before him into the wood.
2. "Your own, Carl," said a voice, close to his
ear.
Carl turned, and saw that an old man was
94
FOURTH READER.
walking beside him, with a book in his hand.
Carl peeped over the old man's shoulder, and tried
to read what was written in the book, but he
could not make out much, for the letters were
very curiously shaped.
" Trying to peep into my book, I see," said the
old man.
3. " Oh, indeed, I beg your pardon ! " said Carl.
"No offence, no offence, I assure you," answered
the other ; " sit down by me, and you shall read
as much as you like."
Carl's pigs were busy picking up chestnuts just
THROUGH THE WOOD. 95
then, so Carl sat down by the old man, and looked
into his book.
4. " It is curious, but not interesting," said Carl,
for it was only a list of names.
"Do you see nothing that interests you?"
asked his companion.
" I see one thing," said Carl ; " one of the names
is written in gilt letters ; what is that for ? "
" That name is the name of a king," answered
the old man, shutting his book.
5. " And what is a king, pray ? " asked Carl.
"I have never seen one, though I have been a
swineherd these three years, and walked about a
good deal."
" You may see one this evening, however,"
answered the old man, " for the people of yonder
city to which you are going, expect to find a king
to-day ; they have been looking out for one a long
time.
6. The throne is standing ready in the market-
place, the crown rests before it on a crimson cush-
ion, and all the people are waiting to bow down.
They quite think the king will come to-day, and
this time, I believe, they will not be disappointed."
" I will walk on, then," said Carl, " for certainly
I should like to see him." So Carl walked on
after his pigs, and left the old man sitting there.
96
FOURTH HEADER.
7. Presently Carl overtook a thin, miserable-
looking donkey, who was trying in vain to drag
after him a cartload of wood.
"Good Master Carl," said the donkey, "will
you not take pity on an unfortunate creature,
and help me on with this load a little way? I
am so tired I shall never reach my master's
cabin."
8. "Never despair, my good friend," said Carl
to the donkey, as he placed himself behind the
cart, and began to push it vigorously along. But
this was very hard work, and Carl was not fond
of hard work, so by-and-by he said to the donkey,
" That will do now, I think ; you can go your way
and I will go mine."
"But I can't go my way," said the donkey,
standing stock-still, and beginning to bray.
9. " Now, I really think you are a little unrea-
sonable," said Carl to the donkey. "Look what
a long distance I have pushed your cart for you,
and I positively must run after my pigs now, for
they are quite on before me."
But the donkey went on braying ; there is no
doubt he ivas very unreasonable.
10. "But that does not signify," said Carl to
himself, " he can't help being an ass, and I dare
THROUGH THE WOOD. 97
say lie is very tired j " so Carl went on pushing
the donkey's cart for him, until they came to his
master's cabin.
"Thank you, thank you, good Master Carl,"
said the donkey, with tears in his eyes.
11. " Good by," said Carl, as he ran after his
pigs. They had found a bed of acorns, and were
making a capital dinner. " So I think I may as
well eat mine," said Carl, as he sat down, and
pulled his bread and cheese out of his pocket.
12. "Master Carl," said a little voice at his
elbow, and Carl saw a wee rabbit sitting beside
him.
"Now little rabbit," said Carl, " I do hope you're
not going to say, ' Carl, give me some bread and
cheese,' for indeed I am very hungry, and there's
not nearly enough for us both."
" Then I must go without my dinner/' re-
marked the little rabbit.
13. "That's altogether ridiculous," answered
Carl ; " don't you see how many dandelions there
are all about under the trees ?"
"But it's so unwholesome living entirely on
green food," said the rabbit; "it gives me the
heart-burn, I assure you, and I'm particularly
ordered to eat bread and cheese."
98
FOURTH READER.
14. Very well, then," answered Carl, " you shall
eat bread and cheese," and he fed the little rabbit
out of his hand, and only kept a very little piece
for himself.
" I am so much obliged to you," said the rabbit,
when she got up to go away.
"Well, I really think you ought to be,"
answered Carl, "for I am very hungry yet." But
the pigs were moving again, and Carl walked
after them.
Presently. — Soon, before long.
Miserable. — Wretched, very poor
and weak.
Unfortunate. — Not fortunate, in
bad luck.
Despair. — Give up hope.
Unreasonable. — Beyond reason,
more than what most people
would think right and just.
Positively. — Really, certainly.
Offence. — Fault.
Remark. — State, say.
Ridiculous. — Absurd, so droll or
stupid as to make one laugh.
Dandelion [tooth-of-lion). — A com-
mon plant with yellow flower
and deeply notched leaves,
which look as if set round
with teeth.
Unwholesome. — Unhealthy, bad
for health.
Entirely. — Wholly, altogether.
Particularly. — Specially.
Assure. — To make sure.
A READING REVIEW. — For Expression.
1. Read paragraphs 16 and 17 on page 69. Tell why you think
" and " is made emphatic.
2. Select couplets (two lines) to read from "Birds in Summer."
3. In " King and Queen's Quarrel " change the voice to represent
Bertie's speaking and May's. Choose sentences.
4. Express the begging tones of the donkey, the rabbit, and the
worm, in Lesson XXTTI.
THROUGH THE WOOD. 99
XXIV.
de-li-cious ri-dic-u-lous cit-i-zens en-ch.ant-ed
mes-sag-es nev-er-tiie-less liand-some en-ticed
THROUGH THE WOOD. — Part II.
1. It was a delicious afternoon, just the day
when it is worth while to be a swineherd, for
the sake of walking in a wood. The sunbeams
danced upon the leaves of the beech-trees, and
glistened on their white, smooth trunks. The
lightest possible summer winds ran up and down
amongst the blades of grass, now and then rest-
ing upon a flower. White and colored butter-
flies flew heedlessly about, carrying the messages
of buttercups to the stumps of old trees, instead
of to the handsome poppies and dandelions, for
whom they were certainly meant.
■ 2. The birds were not singing; only a little
rustling amongst the leaves, a lazy hum from the
gnats and dragon-flies, and now and then a grass-
hopper's chirp were heard; these were the only
sounds — except the grunting of Carl's pigs — I
had almost forgotten that. On they went, through
the wood, grunting, and Carl after them. But
100 FOURTH READER.
suddenly Carl stopped ; he saw some one sitting
under a tree ; it was a beggar, all in rags, look-
ing so miserable, it would have made your heart
ache to look at him.
3. Carl went up to the beggar, and said, " I am
very sorry for you ; can I do anything ? "
" God bless you, my dear little master ! " an-
swered the beggar. " Look how sore my feet are
from walking so long upon the stony ground
without shoes or stockings."
4. "You shall have mine," said Carl, sitting
down and pulling off his shoes and stockings
directly.
"And from having no hat on," continued the
beggar, " the sun has made my eyes quite weak."
"I see," answered Carl, "and my eyes will very
soon be weak if I give you my hat, but I will
nevertheless ; so here it is, and good by," said
Carl, as he put his hat on the beggar's head and
ran on himself without one.
5. " Now I must really keep my eye on these
pigs," said Carl, " for here we are at the mouth of
the enchanted cave, and the Cobbolds will be
stealing them away from me, if I don't keep a
sharp look-out."
" Carl ! oh, Carl ! "said a voice from the ground.
" Where are you ? " asked Carl.
THROUGH THE WOOD. 101
"Here, under this stone, under the — "
6. "Speak a little louder, will you?" said Carl.
" I can't hear what you say, and I don't like to
turn my head round, for I must look at my pigs."
"Here I am, then," said the voice, "almost
crushed beneath this stone just under your right
foot ; will you not stoop down and lift up the
stone and save me ? "
7. " Can't you wait just till I have passed the
cavern? and then I'll come back to you," said
Carl, still looking at his pigs.
"And in the meantime, I shall be crushed to
death," answered the worm.
8. "Good by, my pigs, then," shouted Carl, as
he stooped down and lifted the stone from the
back of the half -dead worm.
"I thank you, Carl," said the worm, feebly;
" now go and look after your pigs."
" But they're all gone," said Carl. And so they
were.
9. In at the mouth of the enchanted cave the
little Cobbolds had enticed them all, just in that
very moment when Carl was lifting up the stone.
" And once gone in there, it's not a bit likely
they'll ever come out again," said Carl ; " but I'll
go to the town at any rate, and see whether the
king is come."
102 FOURTH READER.
10. "What do you want here, Carl ?" asked the
porter at the gate of the city.
" I came to sell my pigs," answered Carl.
" Where are they ? " said the porter.
" I've lost them all," answered Carl.
11. "Then come with me to the market-place,"
said the porter ; and he led Carl to the market-
place, where the throne was standing still empty
— the crown before it on the crimson cushion, and
the people waiting all round ; but in front of the
throne stood the old man who had spoken to Carl
in the morning, and besides him Carl saw the don-
key, the rabbit, the beggar, and the worm, and a
whole army of soldiers who had been Carl's pigs.
12. " Carl," asked the old man, " where have you
been to-day?"
" Through the wood," answered Carl.
" What have you been doing there ? "
^^ Indeed, I hardly know," answered Carl.
13. "Carl helped me with my load of wood,"
said the donkey.
"Carl fed me with his own dinner," said the
rabbit.
" Carl gave me his cap and shoes," said the beggar.
"Carl saved me from being crushed to death,"
said the worm.
THE FOX AND THE CAT.
103
14. "Citizens," said the old man, "what do
you think of Carl ? "
Then all the people shouted, " Carl is the king !
Carl is the king ! "
"And I never knew it," said Carl to the old
man.
A. & E. Keary.
Heedlessly. — Carelessly.
Continued. — Kept on, went on.
Enchanted. — Charmed, under a
magic charm or spell.
Nevertheless. — For all that,
still.
Cobbolds. — Spirits, goblins.
Feeble. — Weak, frail.
Entice. — Lead on, tempt, with
something that one would like.
Porter. — Gate-keeper.
Soldiers — Fighting men.
Citizens. — People of the city,
townsfolk.
State the point of the lesson, or what it was that made Carl
the king.
)t04c
XXV.
sen-si-ble con-cealed fo-li-age ap-proach.-ing
ex-pen-sive nim-bly af-fairs \Arh.is-ker clean-er
THE FOX AND THE CAT.
1. One day a cat met a fox in the wood. " Ah,"
she thought, "he is clever and sensible, and talked
of in the world a great deal ; I will speak to him."
So she said, quite in a friendly manner, " Good
104 FOURTH READER.
morning, dear Mr. Fox ; how are you ? and how
do afeirs go with you in these expensive times ?"
2. The Fox^ full of pride, looked at the cat from
head to foot, and for a long time knew hardly
what to say to her. At last he said, " You poor
little whisker-cleaner, you gray old tabby, you
hungry mouse-hunter, what are you thinking about
to come to me, and to stand there and ask me how
I am going on ? What have you learned, and how
many tricks do you know ? "
3. " I know only one trick," answered the cat,
meekly.
" And pray what is that ?" he asked.
"Well," she said, "if the hounds are behind me,
I can spring up into a tree and save myself."
4. " Is that all ? " cried the fox ; " why, I am mas-
ter of a hundred tricks, and have over and above
all a sackful of cunning ; but I pity you, puss ; so
come with me, and I will teach you how to baffle
both men and hounds."
5. At this moment a hunter, with four hounds,
was seen approaching. The cat sprang nimbly
up a tree, and seated herself on the highest branch,
where, by the spreading foliage, she was quite con-
cealed.
6. "Turn out the sack, Mr. Fox! turn out the
THE FOX AND THE CAT.
105
sack ! " cried the cat ; but the hounds had already
seized him and held him fast. .
7. " Ah, Mr. Fox," cried the cat, " your hundred
tricks are not of much use to you ; now if you
had only known one like mine, you would not
have so quickly lost your life."
J. & W. Grimm.
Expensive. — Costly, causing one
to spend much money.
Concealed. — Hidden.
Approaching. — Drawing near.
Nimbly. — Quickly, lightly.
Foliage. — The leaves of a tree
or plant.
Baffle, — To check or defeat by
bright tricks or turns.
106 FOURTH READER.
XXVI.
A LAUGHING SONG.
When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,
And the dimpling stream runs laughing by ;
When the air does laugh with our merry wit,
And the green hill laughs with the noise of it ;
When the meadows laugh with lively green,
And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene :
When Mary, and Susan, and Emily,
With their sweet round mouths sing, "Ha, ha, he ! "
When the painted birds laugh in the shade.
Where our table with cherries and nuts is spread :
Come live, and be merry, and join with me
To sing the sweet chorus of " Ha, ha, he ! "
W. Blake.
XXVII.
es-pec-ial-ly stabs dou-ble bar-relied con-quer-ing
pen-sion-er idea bow-ie knife suc-ceed-ed
THE BOASTING WOLF.
1. A fox was one day speaking to a wolf of the
great strength of human beings, especially men.
"No animal can stand against them," he said,
"unless they employ craft and cunning."-
THE BOASTING WOLF. 107
2. " Then," said the wolf, " I only wish I could
see a man ; I know he should not escape me ! I
would never let him go free."
"I can help you to obtain your wish," said
the fox. "If you come to me early to-morrow
morning, I will show you a man."
3. The wolf took care to be early enough, and
the fox led him to a hedge through which he
could see the road, and where the fox knew
huntsmen would pass during the day.
First came an old pensioner.
4. "Is that a man?" asked the wolf.
"No," answered the fox. Not now: he was
once."
Then a little child passed, who was going to
school.
6. " Is that a man ? " he asked again.
"No, not yet," said the fox; "but he will be
one by and by."
At last a hunter appeared, with his double-
barrelled gun on his shoulder, and his hunting-
knife by his side.
6. " There ! " cried the fox, " see, there comes a
man at last. I will leave him to you to man-
age, but I shall run back to my hole."
The wolf rushed out upon the man at once.
108 FOURTH READER.
but the hunter was ready for him, although
when he saw him, he said to himself, " What a
pity my gun is not loaded with ball."
7. However, he fired the small shot in the ani-
mal's face as he sprang at him; but neither the
pain nor the noise seemed to frighten the wolf
in the least. The hunter fired again ; still the
wolf, struggling against the pain, made another
spring, — this time furiously, — but the hunter,
hastily drawing his bowie-knife, gave him two
or three such powerful stabs, that he ran back
to the fox all covered with blood.
"Well, brother wolf, and have you succeeded
in conquering a man?"
8. " Oh," he cried, " I had not the least idea of
a man's strength ; first he took a stick from his
shoulder and blew something in my face, which
tingled dreadfully ; and before I could get closer
to him, he puffed again through his stick, and
there came a flash of lightning, and something
struck my nose like hailstones. I would not
give in, but rushed again upon him. In a mo-
ment he pulled a white rib out of his body, and
gave me such dreadful cuts with it that I be-
lieve I must lie here and die."
9. "See now," said the fox, "how foolish it is
"that's not the way at sea." 109
to boast. You have thrown your axe so far
that you cannot fetch it back."
J. & W. Grimm.
Pensioner. — One that receives a
pension, that is, some pay in
consideration of former ser-
vices; a discharged soldier or
sailor.
Manage. — Deal with, control.
Bowie-knife. — Long hunting-
knife.
Furiously. — With fury, with
great rage.
XXVIII.
scorctL-ing w^atcli-virord re-sound blaz-ing
"THAT'S NOT THE WAY AT SEA."
He stood upon the fiery deck.
Our captain kind and brave !
He would not leave the burning wreck,
While there was one to save.
We wanted him to go before,
And we would f ollov/ fast ;
We could not bear to leave him there,
Beside the blazing mast.
But his voice rang out in a cheery shout,
And noble words spoke he —
" That's not the way at sea, my boys,
That's not the way at sea ! "
no
FOURTH READER.
So. each one did as he was bid,
And into the boats we passed,
While closer came the scorching flame,
And our captain was the last.
Yet once again he dared his life,
One little lad to save ;
Then we pulled to shore from the blaze and
roar,
With our captain kind and brave.
''that's not the way at sea.
Ill
In the face of death, with its fiery breathy
He had stood, and so would we !
For that's the way at sea, my boys.
For that's the way at sea.
Now let the noble words resound,
And echo far and free,
Wherever English hearts are found,
On English shore or sea.
The iron nerve of duty, joined
With golden vein of love.
Can dare to do, and dare to wait,
With courage from above.
Our captain's shout among the flames
A watchword long shall be —
" That's not the way at sea, my boys.
That's not the way at sea."
F. R. Havergal.
Pulled. — Rowed.
Resound. — Sound, or be heard,
on all sides.
Watchword. — A word used by-
soldiers as a sign by which to
know each other ; hence, any
phrase often passed from mouth
to mouth.
Iron nerve . . . golden vein. —
The sense of duty and the feel-
ing of love are to the spirit
wliat nerves and veins are to
the body.
112 FOURTH READER.
XXIX.
carry sheaf gold child
car-ried sheaves gold-en chil-dren
Change y to i and add ed in bury, hurry, marry, study.
Change f to v and add es in leaf, thief, beef, elf.
GLEANERS.
The wheat has stood like a golden sea,
And has flashed and danced in the sun,
And the reapers have toiled with hearts full of glee.
Till at length their work is done !
But it's heigh-ho,
And it's low, low,
Dying wheat-ears all in a row !
The sheaves of wheat have been carried away.
But a few poor ears remain.
And the children glean all through the day,
Seeking the golden grain ;
But it's heigh-ho.
And it's slow, slow,
Little to find and far to go !
The even has come with its rest so sweet
To laborers far and wide.
THE BASKET-WOMAN. 113
So the children tie up the golden wheat,
And carry it home with pride ;
And it's heigh-ho,
Away they go —
Hearts that are light though footsteps be
slow.
George Weatherly.
ooj^cx^
XXX.
mis-er-a-ble car-riage earn-ing oblig-ing
gin-ger-bread i-dle-ness scotcb-ing Dun-sta-ble
black-ber-ries a-mused hin-ders Bed-ford-sbire
THE BASKET-WOMAN. — Part I.
1. At the foot of a steep, slippery white hill,
near Dunstable in Bedfordshire, there is a hut
which looks so miserable that the traveller is
surprised to see smoke coming out of the chim-
ney, and to find that human beings live there.
But it is the home of an old woman, and with
her live a little boy and girl, the children of a
beggar, who died and left them homeless and
friendless, so that they were very grateful when
the old woman took pity upon them, and brought
them into her hut.
114
FOURTH READER.
2. She had not much to give, but what she had
she gave willingly ; and she worked very hard at
her knitting and her spinning-wheel to support
the poor children and herself.
3. Another way that she had
of earning money was to fol-
low carriages as they went up
the steep hill, and when the
horses stopped to rest, she
would come up and put stones
under the hind wheels, st) that
the carriage could not roll back.
4. The little boy and girl,
whose names were Paul and
Anne, liked very much to
stand beside the kind old wo-
man's spinning-wheel, and talk
to her. In this way they
learned some good lessons,
which she hoped they would
never forget. She taught them
to hate idleness and wish to be
useful, to tell the truth, and to be honest in the
very smallest things.
5. One evening Paul said to her, " Grand-
mother/' for so they called her, '^how often you
THE BASKET-WOMAN. 115
have to get up from your wheel, and to follow the
carriages up that steep hill, to put stones under
the wheels. The people in the carriages give you
a penny or a halfpenny then, don't they ? "
6. " Yes, child," said the old woman.
" But it is very hard work for you, and it hin-
ders your spinning. Now if we could only do it
for you, we could bring you home all the pence
we got. Do try us, grandmother ; try us to-mor-
row."
7. " Well, I will try you," said the old woman ;
" but first of all I must go with you for a few
times, for fear you should be hurt by the wheels."
So the next day the little boy and girl went with
the old woman, and she showed the boy how to
put the stones.
8. "This is called scotching the wheels," she
said ; and she gave Paul's hat to Anne to hold up
to the ladies. After a time she went indoors to
her spinning, and the children stayed on the hill.
A great many carriages passed, and Paul's hat was
quite heavy with pence and halfpence.
9. The old woman was pleased when they came
in, and said her spinning had got on nicely.
" But, Paul, what has happened to your hand ? "
" I got a little pinch," said Paul, " but it does
116 FOURTH READER.
not hurt much. And, grandmother, if you will
give me the handle of your broken crutch, and
that block of wood in the corner, which is of no
use, I shall never be hurt again."
'- Take them, dear," said the old woman.
Paul went to work, and fastened one end of the
pole into the block of wood, so that he made a
thing shaped like a broom.
10. " Look, grandmother," he said, " I shall call
this thing my scotcher. I shall always scotch the
wheels with it, and then my hands will be safe at
the end of this long handle. And Anne need
never have the trouble of carrying up stones for
me. I wish it was morning, and that a carriage
would come for me to try my scotcher upon."
"And I hope," said little Anne, "that as many
will come to-morrow, and that we shall get plenty
of halfpence for you, grandmother."
11. " I hope you will," said the old woman, " for
I mean you to have all the pence you get to-
morrow for yourselves, so that you can buy some
gingerbread or some ripe plums, and have a treat
for once in a way."
" We'll bring her home some gingerbread, won't
we, brother?" whispered little Anne.
Paul and Anne got up at five next morning
THE BASKET-WOMAN.
117
to be ready for carriages, but they had to wait
some time.
12. At last one came, and when it was half-
way up the hill, the driver called to Paul to
scotch the wheels. He put his scotcher behind
them, and found it answered perfectly. Many
118 FOURTH READER.
carriages went by, and Paul and Anne got plenty
of halfpence. When it grew dusk, Anne said,
"• Come home now, Paul ; I don't think any more
carriages will come to-night."
13. "Not yet," said Paul; "but you shall watch
for carriages for a few minutes, and I will go
and get you some blackberries in this field.
Call me quickly if a carriage comes."
Anne waited a long time, as she thought, but
no carriage came ; at last she went to her
brother, "Oh, Paul, I am sadly tired; do come."
" Oh, no ! " said Paul, " here are some black-
berries for you; wait a little longer."
14. Anne was very obliging, and she ran back
to the hill. At once she heard the noise of a
carriage.
" Paul, Paul ! " she cried, and they saw four
carriages coming by, one after the other.
Anne was so amused watching the scotcher
at. work, that she forgot all about halfpence, till
a little girl called out to her from the window
of one of the carriages.
"Here are some halfpence for you," said the
little girl, and the money was thrown to her
from each carriage in turn. Then they drove
away.
THE BASKET-WOMAN. 119
Dunstable is a town, and Bedford-
shire a county, of England.
Crutch. — A strong staff used by
lame people to help them to
walk.
Amused. — Entertained.
Spinning-wheel. — A wheel for
spinning cotton, flax, or wool
into thread for weaving or
spinning.
A penny. — An English coin
worth about two cents.
Obliging. — Willing to please
others.
Support. — To provide for, to
maintain.
3j*ic
XXXI.
stiiv-er qui-et-ly
rheu-ma-tisin blan-ket
lug-gage liost-ler
dif-fi-cult
gui-nea
val-ue
tempt-ing
ad-vice
doz-en
THE BASKET-WOMAN. — Part II.
1. Paul and Anne sat down by the roadside to
count their treasure, as soon as the carriages
were safely at the top of the hill. The money
they had already taken was hidden in a safe
hole by the roadside, but they began by count-
ing what was in the hat.
2. " One, two, three, four halfpence ! " said Paul.
"But, oh, brother, look at this!" said Anne;
"this is not the same as the other halfpence."
"No, indeed it is not," said Paul; "it is no half-
penny ; it is a guinea, a bright golden guinea ! "
"Is it?" said Anne, who had never seen a
guinea in her life before, and did not know its
120 FOURTH READER.
value. " Will it do as well as a halfpenny to
buy gingerbread? I'll run and ask the woman
at the fruit-stall. Shall I ? "
3. "No, no," said Paul, "you need not ask
any woman, or anybody but me. I can tell you
all about it quite as well as anybody in the
whole world."
" The whole world ! Oh, Paul, you forget !
not so well as grandmother ! "
"Why, not so well as grandmother, perhaps;
but, Anne, I can tell you that you must not talk
yourself, but listen to me quietly, or else you will
not understand what I am going to tell you ; for
I can tell you that I don't think I quite under-
stood it myself, Anne, the first time grandmother
told it to me, though I stood stock still and
listened with all my might."
4. After this speech, Anne looked very grave,
and expected to hear something very difficult to
understand.
Nowadays we seldom see a guinea, but at the
time of this story guineas were used instead of
sovereigns. They were worth twenty-one shil-
lings. Paul told Anne that with a guinea she
could buy two hundred and fifty-two times as
many plums as she could get for a penny.
THE BASKET-WOMAN. 121
5. " Why, Paul/' said Anne, " you know the
fruit-woman said she would give us a dozen
plums for a penny. Now, for this little guinea
would she give us two hundred and fifty-two
dozen ?"
^^ If she has so many, and we like to have so
many, she will," said Paul ; " but I think we
should not like to have two hundred and fifty-
two dozen of plums; we could not eat such a
number."
"But we could give some of them to grand-
mother," said Anne.
6. " But still there would be too many for her
and for us," said Paul, " and when we had eaten
the plums, there would be an end of the pleasure.
But now I will tell you what I am thinking of,
Anne, that we might buy something for grand-
mother that would be very useful to her indeed
with this guinea ; something that would last a
great while."
"What sort of thing?" asked little Anne.
7. " Something that she said she wanted very
much last winter when she was so ill with rheu-
matism ; something that she said yesterday, when
you were making her bed, she hoped she might
be able to buy before next winter."
122 FOUKTH READER.
"I know, I know what you mean," cried Anne,
"a blanket. Oh, yes, Paul, that will be much
better than plums ; do let us buy a blanket for
her ; how glad she will be to see it ! I will make
her bed with the new blanket, and then bring
her to look at it. But, Paul, how shall we buy a
blanket ? Where are blankets to be got ? "
8. " Leave that to me ; I'll manage that ; I
know where blankets can be got. I saw one
hanging out of a shop the day I went last to
Dunstable."
" You have seen a great many things at Dun-
stable."
" Yes, a great many ; but I never saw anything
there or anywhere else that I wished for half so
much as I did for the blanket for grandmother.
Do you remember how she used to shiver with
the cold last winter ? I will buy the blanket
to-morrow ; I am going to Dunstable with her
spinning."
9. '' And you will bring the blanket to me, and
I will make the bed very neatly ; that will be all
right, all happy," said Anne, clapping her hands.
" But stay, hush ; don't clap your hands so,
Anne. It will not be all happy, I am afraid,"
said Paul, and he began to look very grave ; " it
THE BASKET-WOMAN. 123
will not be all right, I am afraid, for there is one
thing we have neither of us thought of, but that
we ought to think of. . We cannot buy the blan-
ket, I am afraid."
" Why, Paul, why ? "
" Because I do not think this guinea is honestly
ours," answered Paul.
10. " Why is not the guinea honestly ours ? "
asked Anne. " I am sure it is, for it was given
to us, and grandmother said we were to have all
that was given us to-day for our own."
" But who gave it to you, Anne ? "
" Some of the people in the carriages, Paul.
Perhaps it was the little rosy girl."
" No," said Paul ; " for when she called you to
the carriage she said, ^Here are some halfpence
124 FOURTH READER.
for you.' If she gave you the guinea, it must
have been a mistake."
11. "But perhaps some of the other people gave
it me. There was a gentleman reading in one
carriage, and a lady, who looked kindly at me ;
then the gentleman put down his book and looked
out of the window. He looked at your scotcher,
and asked if it was your own making, and when
I said yes, and told him I was your sister, he
smiled and put his hand in his pocket, and threw
a handful of halfpence into the hat. I daresay
he gave us the guinea, because he liked your
scotcher so much."
12. "Why," said Paul, "that might be, but I
wish I could be sure of it."
" Then, as we are not sure, had we not better
go and ask grandmother what she thinks about
it?" said Anne.
Paul thought this very good advice ; he went
with his sister directly to the grandmother, showed
her the guinea, and told her about it.
13. " My dear honest children," she said, " I am
very glad you did not buy either the blanket or
the plums ; I am sure it was given by mistake,
and I should like you to go to Dunstable, and find
out the person who gave it you. It is now so
THE BASKET-WOMAN. 125
late in the evening that most likely the travellers
are sleeping there. You must go and try to find
the gentleman who was reading."
14. " Oh, I know a good way of finding him ! "
cried Paul. " I am so glad you taught me to read,
grandmother, for I read ' John Nelson ' on the car-
riage. That is the innkeeper's name, I know;
and it was a dark green carriage with red wheels.
Come, Anne, let us set off and find it before it gets
quite dark."
15. The children set off, and walked bravely
past the tempting stall, rich in gingerbread and
ripe plums, but at the blanket shop Paul could
not help saying, —
" It is a great pity the guinea is not ours, but
we are doing what is honest, and that is a com-
fort. Here we are at the Dun Cow."
'^ I see no cow," said Anne.
16. " Look at the picture over your head. But we
must not stop now ; I want to find that carriage."
There was a great noise and bustle in the inn
yard; horses were being rubbed down, carriages
rolled into coach-houses, luggage carried about.
" What now, what business have you here ? "
said a waiter, who almost ran over Paul. " Walk
off at once."
126
FOURTH READER.
17. " Please let me stay a few minutes, and look
for a green carriage with red wheels, and Mr. John
Nelson's name on it," begged Paul.
" What should you know about green carriages ? "
said the waiter, and was just going to turn Paul
out of the yard, when a hostler caught his arm.
"Maybe the child has some business," he said.
Hostler. — A man who takes care
of the horses at an inn.
Dun. — Of a dull brown color.
The Dun Cow was the picture
that gave the name to the inn.
>>®<c
po-w-der-ing
land-la-dy
cu-ri-ous
XXXII.
chaise
cla-ret
dis-missed
scliol-ars
pas-sage
em-ployed
af-ford
a-dop-ted
"wliis-pered
THE BASKET-WOMAN. — Part III.
1. The waiter went off to answer a bell, and
Paul told his story to the hostler, who helped him
to find the chaise, and the man who had driven
it. This man said that he was just going to the
gentleman to be paid, and would take the guinea
with him.
THE BASKET-WOMAN.
127
"No," said Paul, "we should like to give it
back ourselves."
2. " They have a right to do that," said the
hostler, and the driver went away, telling the
children to wait in the passage. A tidy woman
was standing there too, with two huge straw bas-
kets beside her.
A man who was pushing his way in, carrying a
128 FOURTH READER.
string of dead larks on a pole, kicked down one
of the baskets, which was a little in the way, and
all that were in it — bright straw hats, boxes, and
slippers — were thrown upon the dirty ground.
" Oh, they will all be spoiled ! " cried the woman ;
but Paul and Anne ran to help her.
3. ^' Do let us pick them up for you," they said ;
and when the things were all in the basket again,
they asked how such pretty things could be made
of straw. But before the woman could answer,
a gentleman's servant came out. Clapping Paul
on the back, he said, —
"Well, my little chap, I hear I gave you a
guinea for a halfpenny."
" No, Paul," said Anne, " that is not the gentle-
man."
4. "Pooh, child, it is all the same," said the
man. " I came in that carriage with my master,
who was reading, But he is tired and wants to
go to bed ; so you are to give me the guinea."
Paul was too honest to expect a lie ; so he gave
up the bright guinea at once.
5. " Here is a sixpence apiece for you, and good
night," said the man, and pushed the children out ;
but the basket-woman whispered, " Wait for me in
the street."
THE BASKET-WOMAN^. 129
"Mrs. Landlady," said the servant, "let me
have toasted larks for my supper, please, and a
bottle of claret. Do you hear, waiter ? "
6. "Larks and claret," said the basket-woman
to herself, as she saw the driver and the servant
whisper to each other. She waited quietly in the
passage.
" Waiter ! Joe, Joe ! " called the landlady,
" carry in those tarts at once to the company in
the best room."
7. " Coming, ma'am," answered the waiter, and
as the door was opened, the basket-woman could
see a great many ladies and gentlemen, and some
children, sitting at supper.
" Ay," whispered the landlady, " there are plenty
of people there who could afford to buy your
goods, if you could only be called in. Pray, now
what would you charge me for these little straw
mats to put under my dishes ?"
8. The woman let her have the mats cheap, and
after the gay party had finished supper, the land-
lady went in and asked if they would like to see
any of the curious Dunstable straw-work.
So the basket-woman was called in. "Oh,
papa," cried a little girl, "here are some straw
shoes that would just fit you; what are they
130 FOURTH EEADER.
for ? I do not think straw shoes would be of much
use."
9. " They are to wear when people are powder-
ing their hair, dear; but I am afraid I must not
spend much to-night, for I carelessly threw away
a guinea to-day," said her father.
" Oh ! the guinea that you threw to the little
girl on Chalk Hill. She was not a very honest
little girl, was she, papa? or she would have run
after the carriage with it."
10. "Oh, miss — ma'am — sir! may I speak a
word?" cried the basket-woman. "A little boy
and girl have just been asking for a gentleman
who gave them a guinea by mistake, and, not five
minutes ago, I saw the little boy give it to a gen-
tleman's servant, who said his master desired him
to take it."
" This is some mistake or some trick," said the
gentleman ; " where are the children ? I must see
them. Send after them." "I will go for them
myself," said the basket-woman j " I told them to
wait in the street."
11. Paul and Anne were soon brought in, and
Anne knew the gentleman at once to be the same
who put down his book and admired the scotcher.
It happened that the guinea was a light one, and
THE BASKET-WOMAN. 131
the gentleman had marked it. He soon found the
dishonest servant at his supper of larks and claret,
and made him pull out all the money he had about
him.
12. There was the marked coin, and the servant
was at once dismissed. "Now, little honest girl,"
said the gentleman to Anne, " tell me who you are
and what you wish for most in the world."
With one voice the two children cried, "We
want a blanket for grandmother most ! "
" She is not really our grandmother, sir, but she
is just as good to us," said Paul. " She taught
me to read and Anne to knit, and she has the
rheumatism very badly in the winter, and we did
wish her to have a new blanket, sir ! "
13. " She shall have it," said the gentleman,
" and I will do something more for you. Do you
like best to be employed or idle ?"
" We like to have something to do always, sir,"
said Paul, " but sometimes we are forced to be idle,
for grandmother has not always work for us that
we can do well."
"Would you like to learn how to make such
baskets as these ? " said the gentleman, pointing to
one of the Dunstable straw baskets.
14. " Oh, very much," said Paul. "Very much,"
132
FOURTH READER.
said Anne. "Then I should like to teach you/'
said the basket-woman ; " for I am quite sure you
would behave honestly to me."
The gentleman put a guinea into the kind
woman's hand, and told her he knew she could
not afford to teach her trade for nothing.
" I shall come through Dunstable again in a few
months, and I hope to see that you and your schol-
ars get on well. If I find that you do, I will do
something more for you," he said.
15. "But," said Anne, "we must go and tell
grandmother about all this."
" It is a fine moonlight night," said the basket-
woman, "and I will walk with you myself and
see you safe home."
The gentleman kept them for a few minutes
longer, as he had sent to buy the blanket. " Your
grandmother will sleep well under this good blan-
ket, I hope," he said, as he gave it into Paul's
arms. " It has been earned for her by the honesty
of her adopted children."
Miss Edgworth {Adapted).
Dismissed. — Sent away from his
service.
Adopted. — Not her own children,
but treated as such.
Claret. — A kind of wine.
Powdering. — Sprinkling the hair
with starch powder to make it
quite white, as was then the
fashion.
Chaise. — A two-wheeled carriage.
BLUNDER. 133
XXXIII.
in-quir-ing squab-bling en-tire-ly reg-u-la-tions
mi-ser-ly im-pa-tient ac-quire ge-og-ra-pliy
ac-cord-ing pro-fes-sion del-i-cate knowl-edge
BLUNDER. — Part I.
1. Blunder was going to the Wishing-Gate, to
wish for a pair of Shetland ponies, and a little
coach like Tom Thumb's. And of course you can
have your wish, if you once get there. But the
thing is to find it ; for it is not, as you imagine, a
great gate with a tall marble pillar on each side,
and a sign over the top, like this — WISHING-
GATE — but just an old stile made of three sticks.
2. Put up two fingers, cross them on the top
with another finger, and you have it exactly — the
way it looks, I mean — a worm-eaten stile, in a
meadow ; and as there are plenty of old stiles in
meadows, how are you to know which is the one ?
3. Blunder's fairy godmother knew, but then
she could not tell him, for that was not according
to fairy rules and regulations. She could only
direct him to follow the road, and ask the way of
the first owl he met ; and over and over she
charged him, for Blunder was a very careless little
134 FOURTH READER.
hoy, and seldom found anything, "Be sure you
don't miss him — be sure you don't pass him by."
4. And so far Blunder had come on very well,
for the road was straight ; but at the turn it
forked. Should he go through the wood, or turn
to the right? There was an owl nodding in a
tall oak-tree, the first owl Blunder had seen ; but
he was a little afraid to wake him up, for Blun-
der's fairy godmother had told him that this was
a very wise fellow, who sat up all night to study
the habits of frogs and mice, and knew everything
but what went on in the daylight under his nose ;
and he could think of nothing better to say to
this very wise fellow than "Good Mr. Owl, will
BLUNDER. 135
you please show me the way to the Wishing-
Gate?"
5. " Eh ! what's that ? '* cried the owl, starting
out of his nap. " Have you brought me a frog ? "
"No," said Blunder, "I did not know that you
would like one. Can you tell me the way to the
Wishing-Gate?"
6. " Wishing-Gate ! Wishing-Gate ! " hooted the
owl, very angry. " Winks and naps ! how dare
you disturb me for such a thing as that ? Do you
take me for a mile-stone ! Follow your nose, sir,
follow your nose ! " — and, ruffling up his feathers,
the owl was asleep again in a moment.
7. But how could Blunder follow his nose ? His
nose would turn to the right, or
take him through the woods, which-
ever way his legs went, and " what
was the use of asking the owl,"
thought Blunder, " if this was all ? "
While he hesitated, a
squirrel came running
down the path, and,
seeing Blunder, stopped
short with a little squeak.
8. " Good Mrs. Browny," said Blunder, " can
you tell me the way to the Wishing-Gate ? "
136 FOURTH READER.
" I can t, indeed/' answered the squirrel, politely.
"What with getting in nuts, and the care of a
young family, I have so little time to visit any-
thing! But if you will follow the brook, you
will find an old water-sprite under a slanting
stone, over which the water pours all day with
a noise like wabble ! wabble ! He, I have no
doubt, can tell you all about it. You will know
him, for he does nothing but grumble about the
good old times when a brook would have dried
up sooner than turn a
mill-wheel."
9. So Blunder went on
up the brook, and seeing
nothing of the water-
sprite, or the slanting
stone, was just saying to
himself, "I am sure I don't know where he is
— I can't find it," when he spied a frog sitting
on a wet stone.
" Mr. Frog," asked Blunder, " can you tell me
the way to the Wishing-Gate ? "
10. "I cannot," said the frog. "I am very
sorry, but the fact is, I am an artist. Young as
I am, my voice is already remarked at our con-
certs, and I devote myself so entirely to my
BLUNDER. 137
profession of music, that I have no time to
acquire general knowledge. But in a pine-tree
beyond, you will find an old crow, who, I am
quite sure, can show you the way, as he is a trav-
eller, and a bird of an inquiring turn of mind."
11. "I don't know where the pine is — I am
sure I can never find him," answered Blunder,
sadly; but still he went on up the brook, till, hot
and tired, and out of patience at seeing neither
crow nor pine, he sat down under a great tree
to rest. There he heard tiny voices squabbling.
12. " Get out ! Go away, I tell you ! It has
been knock ! knock ! knock ! at my door all day,
till I am tired out. First a wasp, and then a bee,
and then another wasp, and then another bee, and
now you. Go away ! I won't let another one in
to-day."
13. " But I want my honey."
" And I want my nap."
" I will come in."
" You shall not."
" You are a miserly old elf."
" And you are a brute of a bee.'*
And, looking about him. Blunder spied a bee
quarrelling with a morning-glory elf, who was
shutting up the morning-glory in his face.
138
FOURTH READER.
14. "Elf, do you know which is the way to
the Wishing-Gate ? " asked Blunder.
"No/' said the elf, "I don't know anything
about geography. I was always too delicate to
study. But if you will keep on this path, you
will meet the Dream-man coming down from
fairy-land, with his bags of dreams on his shoul-
der, and if anybody can tell you about the Wish-
ing-Gate, he can."
15. " But how can I find him ? " asked Blunder,
more and more impatient.
"I don't know, I am sure,'* answered the elf,
"unless you should look for him."
Regulations. — Rules by which
things are to be done.
Water-sprite. — A sort of fairy,
supposed to live in water.
Spied. — Saw.
Artist. — One who devotes himself
to any art ; here that of music.
Acquire. — Gain by effort.
Elf. — A little fairy.
Morning-glory. — A flower of the
Convolvulus kind which only
opens in the morning.
Miserly. — Like a miser, i.e., one
who lives meanly so as to hoard
up his money.
Inquiring turn of mind. — Given
to asking questions.
What can you tell of Shetland ponies ? What of Tom Thumb ?
Name some of the things learned in the study of geography.
What is meant by Blunder ?
BLUNDER. 139
XXXIV.
tre-men-dous ex-claimed gruff-ly -w^liim-pered
"wood-gob-lin luck-i-ly wliisk-ing flut-ter-ing
BLUNDER. — Part II.
1. So there was no help for it but to go on, and
presently Blunder passed the Dream-man asleep
under a hazel, with his bags of good and bad
dreams laid over him to keep him from flutter-
ing away. But Blunder had a habit of not using
his eyes, for at home, when told to find anything,
he always said, " I don't know where it is," or, " I
can't find it," and then his mother or sister went
straight and found it for him.
2. So he passed the Dream-man without seeing
him, and went on till he stumbled on Jack-o'-
Lantern.
"Can you show me the way to the Wishing-
Gate?" said Blunder.
" Certainly, with pleasure," answered Jack, and
catching up his lantern, set out at once.
3. Blunder followed close, but in watching the
lantern he forgot to look to his feet, and fell into
a hole filled with black mud.
140 FOURTH READER.
"I say, the Wishing-Gate is not down there,"
called out Jack, whisking off among the tree-
tops.
4. "But I can't come up there," whimpered
Blunder.
" That is not my fault then," answered Jack,
merrily, dancing out of sight.
5. Oh! a very angry little boy was Blunder
when he clambered out of the hole. "I don't
know where it is," he said, crying. " I can't find
it, and I'll go straight home."
6. Just then he stepped on an old, moss-grown,
rotten stump, and it happening unluckily that this
rotten stump was a wood-goblin's chimney, Blun-
der fell through headlong, in among the pots and
BLUNDER. 141
pans in which the goblin's cook was cooking the
goblin's supper.
7. The old goblin, who was asleep up stairs,
started up in a fright at the tremendous clash
and clatter, and, finding that his house was not
tumbling about his ears, as he thought at first,
stumped down to the kitchen to see what was
the matter. The cook heard him coming, and
looked about her in a fright to hide Blunder.
8. " Quick ! " cried she. " If my master catches
you, he will have you in a pie. In the next room
stands a pair of shoes. Jump into them, and
they will take you up the chimney."
9. Off flew Blunder, burst open the door, and
tore wildly about the room, in one corner of
which stood the shoes; but of course he could
not see them, because he was not in the habit
of using his eyes. " I can't find them ! Oh, I
can't find them ! " sobbed poor little Blunder,
running back to the cook.
10. "Eun into the closet," said the cook.
Blunder made a dash at the window, but "]
don't know where it is," he called out.
Clump ! clump ! That was the goblin half-way
down the stairs.
11. '^ Oh, dear, dear ! " exclaimed cook. "He is
142
FOURTH READER,
coming ! The boy will be eaten in spite of me.
Jump into the meal-chest ! "
"I don't see it/' squeaked Blunder^ rushing
towards the fireplace. " Where is it ? "
12. Clump ! Clump ! That was the goblin at
the foot of the stairs, and coming towards the
kitchen door.
" There is a cloak hanging on that peg. Get
into that, and he will not see you," cried cook,
quite beside herself.
13. But Blunder could no more see the cloak
than he could see the shoes, the closet, and the
meal-chest, and no doubt the goblin, whose hand
was on the latch, would have found him prancing
round the kitchen and crying out, "I can't find
it," but, luckily for himself. Blunder caught his
foot in the cloak and tumbled down, pulling it
over him. There he lay, hardly daring to breathe.
Jack-o'-Lantern. — A mischie-
vous elf supposed to cause the
light which sometimes hangs
over marshy places. The light
is still called Jack-o'-Lantern, or
Will-o'-the-Wisp.
Whisking off. — Hastening away.
Goblin. — A large and terrible
imp or malicious fairy.
Whimpered. — i.e., said in a pit-
eous voice.
BLUNDER. 143
XXXV.
star-va-tion bush-el pur-ple ch.uck-ling
BLUNDER. — Part III.
1. " What was all that noise about ? " asked the
goblin, gruffly, coming into the kitchen.
" Only my pans, master," answered the cook ;
and as he could see nothing amiss, the old goblin
went grumbling up stairs again, while the shoes
took Blunder up the chimney, and landed him in
a meadow, safe enough, but so miserable !
2. He was cross, he was tired, he was hungry.
It was dark ; he did not know the way home, and,
seeing an old stile, he climbed up and sat down on
the top of it, for he was too weary to stir.
3. Just then came along the South Wind, with
his pockets crammed full of showers, and, as he
happened to be going Blunder s way, he took
Blunder home, of which the boy was glad enough ;
only he would have liked it better if the Wind
would not have laughed all the way.
4. For what would you think if you were walk-
ing along a road with a fat old gentleman who
went chuckling to himself, and slapping his knees,
144
FOURTH READER.
and poking himself till he was purple in the face,
when he would burst out in a great windy roar of
laughter every other minute ?
"What are you laughing at?" asked Blunder
at last.
5. "At two things that I saw in my travels/'
answered the wind — "a hen, that died of starva-
tion, sitting on an empty peck measure that stood
in front of a bushel of grain, and a little boy who
BLUNDER. 145
sat on the top of the Wishing-Gate, and came
home because he could not find it."
6. "What? what's that?" cried Blunder; but
just then he found himself at home. There sat
his fairy godmother by the fire, her mouse-skin
cloak hung up on a peg, making the toe of a
spider' s-silk stocking an eighth of an inch long,
and though everybody else cried, "What luck?"
and, "Where is the Wishing-Gate ? " she sat
silent.
7. " I don't know where it is," answered Blun-
der. "I couldn't find it." And then he told the
story of his troubles.
" Poor boy ! " said his mother, kissing him, while
his sister ran to bring him some bread and milk.
8. "Yes, that's all very fine," cried his god-
mother, pulling out her needles and rolling up
her ball of silk ; " but now hear my story. There
was once a little boy who must needs go to the
Wishing-Gate, and his fairy godmother showed
him the road as far as the turn, and told him to
ask the first owl he met what to do then.
9. " But this little boy seldom used his eyes ; so
he passed the first owl, and waked up the wrong
owl ; so he passed the water-sprite, and found only
a frog; so he sat down under the pine-tree, and
146
FOURTH READER.
never saw the crow ; so he passed the Dream-man,
and ran after Jack-o'-Lantern ; so he tumbled
down the goblin's chimney, and couldn't find the
shoes and the closet and the chest and the cloak ;
and so he sat on the top of the Wishing-Gate till
the South Wind brought him home, and never
knew it. Bah!"
10. And away went the fairy godmother up the
chimney in such deep disgust that she did not
even stop for her mouse-skin cloak.
Louise E. Chollet.
Gruffly. — Roughly, sternly.
Bushel. — A measure equal to
four pecks or eight gallons.
Chuckling. — Laughing quietly.
Starvation. — Suffering from waut
of food.
A READING REVIEW. — For Expression.
1. On page 100 read paragraph 3, saying ** God bless you" as
if it were a single word, in the way it is usually spoken. Read also
paragraphs 5 and 6 to show the change of voice which follows the
dash. Tell for what the dash is used in punctuation.
2. Review Lesson XXV., letting one reader personate the fox
and one the cat: omit all but what was said; that is, make a
DIALOGUE of it.
3. Use Lessons XXVIIL and XXIX. for recitation or concert-
reading.
4. Read sentences from The Basket Woman and from Blunder,
or ask others in the class to read any that you like to hear. For
example, the talk of Paul and Anne when they first found the
guinea, page 119,
OUR GAKDEN. 147
XXXVI.
al-lo"wed mig-non-ette bacti-e-lor set-tied
lav-en-der pot-pour-ri pre-served rayr-tle
OUR GARDEN. — Part I.
The winter is gone ; and at first Jack and I were
sad,
Because of the snow man's melting, but now we
are glad ;
For the spring has come, and it's warm, and we're
allowed to garden in the afternoon ;
And summer is coming, and oh ! how lovely our
flowers will be in June !
We are so fond of flowers, it makes us quite happy
to think
Of our beds — all colors — blue, white, yellow, pur-
ple, and pink.
Scarlet, lilac, and crimson! And we're fond of
sweet scents as well,
And mean to have pinks, roses, sweet peas, mig-
nonette, clove carnations, and everything
good to smell ;
Lavender, rosemary, — and we should like a lemon-
scented verbena, and a big myrtle-tree !
148
FOURTH READER.
C^9
And then if we could get an old " preserved gin-
ger" pot, and some bay-salt, we could
make pot-pourri.
Jack and I have a gar-
den, though it's not
so large as the big
one, you know.
But whatever can be
got to grow in a gar-
den, we mean to
grow.
We've got bachelor's
buttons, and London
pride, and old man,
and everything that's
nice.
And last year Jack
sowed green peas for
our doll's dinners,
but they were eaten
up by the mice.
And he would plant
potatoes in furrows,
which made the garden in a mess.
So this year we mean to have no kitchen garden
but mustard and cress.
OUR GARDEK.
149
One of us plants and the other waters, but Jack
likes the watering-pot,
And then when my turn comes to water, he says
it's too hot !
We sometimes quarrel about the garden, and once
Jack hit me with the spade :
So we settled to divide it in two by a path up the
middle, and that's made.
150
FOURTH HEADER.
We want some yellow sand now to make the walk
pretty, but there's none about here ;
So we mean to get some in the old carpet-bag, if
we go to the seaside this year.
On Monday we went to the wood and got prim-
rose plants, and a sucker of dog-rose ;
It looks like a green stick in the midst of the bed
at present ; but wait till it blows !
The primroses were in full flower, and the rose
ought to flower soon;
You've no idea how lovely it is in that wood in
June !
Allowed. — Have had permission.
Bachelor's button. — A delicate
garden flower (either pink or
violet).
Settled. — Agreed.
Mignonette {min-yon-ette'). — A
sweet-scented purple flower.
Pot-pourri {p6-p6dr-ee'). — A vase
filled with fragrant leaves and
sprinkled with salt to perfume
a room. The word is also used
to name a piece in music made
up of many airs ; a medley.
Preserved. — Prepared for keep-
ing.
Mustard and cress. — Plants hav-
ing a biting or pungent taste,
and used with food.
Sucker. — The shoot of a plant,
either from the roots or the
lower part of the stem.
Use some other word for got in " got to grow in a garden.*' Drop
" got " from the sentence that follows : " We've got bachelor's but-
tons," etc. Use another word for " flower " in the last stanza.
Notice that the lines in this and the following lesson are of
greater length than have been found in previous selections.
OUR GARDEN. 151
XXXVII.
nem-optL-i-la pin-a-fores witli-ered gar-den-er
OUR GARDEN. — Part II.
The primroses look quite withered now, I am
sorry to say;
But that's not our fault, but nurse's^ and it shows
how hard it is to garden when you can't
have you own way.
We planted them carefully, and were just going
to water them all in a lump
When nurse fetched us both in-doors, and put us
to bed for wetting our pinafores at the
pump.
It's very hard, and I'm sure the gardener's plants
wouldn't grow any better than ours
If nurse fetched him in and sent him to bed just
when he was going to water his flowers.
We've got blue nemophila and mignonette and
Venus' s looking-glass, and many other
The nemophila comes up spotted, which is how we
know it from the weeds ;
152
FOURTH READER.
At least it's sure to come up if the hens haven't
scratched it up first.
But when it's up the cats roll on it, and that is
the worst !
I sowed a ring of sweet peas, and the last time I
looked they were coming nicely on,
Just sprouting white, and I put them safely back ;
but when Jack looked he found they were
gone.
Jack made a great many cuttings, but he has
had rather bad luck ;
OUE GARDEN. 153
I've looked at them every day myself ^ and not one
of them has struck.
The gardener gave me a fine moss-rose, but Jack
took it to his side ;
I kept moving it back, but he took it again, and
at last it died.
But now we've settled to dig up the path, and
have the bed as it was before.
So everything will belong to us both, and we
shan't ever quarrel any more.
It is such a long time, too, to wait for the sand,
and perhaps sea sand does best on the shore.
We're going to take everything up, — for it can't
hurt the plants to stand on the grass for a
minute.
And you really can't possibly rake a bed smooth
with so many things in it.
We shall dig it all over, and get leaf-mould from
the wood, and hoe up the weeds -,
And when its tidy, we shall plant and put labels
and strike cuttings and sow seeds.
We are so fond of flowers! Jack and I often
dream at night
154 FOURTH READER.
Of getting up and finding our garden ablaze with
all colors, — blue, red, yellow, and white.
And midsummer's coming, and big brother Tom
will sit under the tree
With his book, and Mary will beg sweet nosegays
of me.
The worst is, we often start for the seaside about
midsummer day.
And no one takes care of our gardens whilst we
are away.
But if we sow lots of seeds, and take plenty of
cuttings before we leave home,
When we come back our flowers will be all in full
bloom.
Bright, bright sunshine above, and sweet, sweet
flowers below ;
Come midsummer, quickly come, and go quickly,
midsummer, go !
P. S. It's so tiresome ! Jack wants to build a
greenhouse now.
He has found some bits of broken glass and an old
window-frame, and he says he knows how.
OUE GARDEN.
155
I tell him there's not glass enough, but he says
there's lots.
And he's taken all the plants that belong to the
bed, and put them in pots.
Juliana Horatio Ewing.
Pinafore. — A kind of apron.
Withered. — Dried, faded.
Tidy. — Neat, orderly.
Cuttings. — Parts of a plant that
contain a bud.
Mould. — Earth that is made
mostly of decayed leaves.
Label. — A tag ; a small card or
piece of wood with the name of
the thing to which it is fastened.
156 FOUKTH READER.
XXXVIII.
Col-o-ra-do lieif-er cru-el jag-ged
liin-dered mere-ly seams spoiled
THE ANT'S MONDAY DINNER. — Part I.
1. How did I know what the ants had for
dinner last Monday?
It is odd that I should have known, but I'll
tell you how it happened.
2. I was sitting under a great pine-tree high
up on a hillside.
The hillside was more than seven thousand
feet above the sea, and that is higher than most
mountains. But this hillside was in Colorado,
so there was nothing wonderful in its being so
high.
3. I had watched the great mountains with
snow upon them, and the forest of pine-trees —
miles and miles of them — so close together that
it looks as if one could lie down upon their tops
and not fall through.
4. My eyes were tired with looking at such great,
grand things, so many miles away; so I looked
down upon the ground where I was sitting, and
watched the ants which were running about
THE ant's MONDAY DINNER. 157
everywhere, as busy and restless as if they had
the whole world on their shoulders.
5. Suddenly I saw under a tuft of grass a tiny
yellow caterpillar, which seemed to be bounding
along in a strange way. In a second more 1
saw an ant seize him and begin to drag him off.
6. The caterpillar was three times as long as
the ant, and his body was more than twice as
large round as the biggest part of the ant's
body.
"Ho! Ho! Mr. Ant," said I, "you are not
strong enough to drag that fellow very far."
7. Why, it was about the same as if you should
drag a heifer which was kicking all the time ;
only that the heifer has not half so many legs
to catch hold of things with as the caterpillar
had.
8. Poor caterpillar ! how he did try to get away.
But the ant never gave him a second's time
to take a good grip of anything; and he was
cunning enough, too, to drag him on his side,
so that he could not use his legs very well.
9. Up and down, under and over sticks and
stones, in and out of tufts of grass, up to the
top of the tallest blades and down again, over
gravel and sand, and across bridges of pine-
158 FOUETH READER.
needles, from stone to stone, backward all the
way ; but for all I could see, just as swiftly as
if lie were going head foremost, ran that ant,
dragging the caterpillar after him.
10. I watched him very closely, thinking of
course he must be going toward his house.
Presently he darted up the trunk of the pine-
tree.
^'What does this mean?" said I; "ants do
not live in pine-trees."
11. The bark of the tree was broken and
jagged, and full of seams twenty times as deep
as the height of the ant's body.
He did not mind ; down one side and up the
other he went.
12. I had to watch very closely, not to lose
sight of him altogether.
I began to think he was merely trying to kill
the caterpillar, that perhaps he didn't mean to
eat him after all. How did I know but some
ants might hunt caterpillars just as some men
hunt deer, for fun, and not at all because they
needed food.
13. If I had been sure of this, I would have
spoiled Mr. Ant's sport, and set the poor cater-
pillar free. But I never heard of an ant's being
THE ANT S MONDAY DINNER.
159
cruel ; and if it really were for dinner for his
family that he was working so hard, I thought
he ought to be helped and not hindered.
Heifer. — A young cow.
Grip. — Grasp, hold.
Hindered. — Kept from doing,
prevented.
Gravel. — Masses of fine pebbles,
or fragments of stone, not as
fine as sand.
Darted. — Kan quickly.
>:<«o
di-vert-ed
•wa-ter-proof
XXXIX.
e-nor-mous
dis-ap-peared
van-ish.ed
fan-cied
lia-tred
slirill
THE ANTS MONDAY DINNER. — Part II.
1. Just then my attention was diverted by a
sharp cry overhead.
I looked up and saw an enormous hawk sailing
round in circles with two small birds flying after,
pouncing down upon his head, then darting away,
and all the time making shrill cries of fright and
hatred. I knew very well what was meant. Mr.
Hawk was trying to do some marketing for his
dinner. He had his eye on some little birds in
their nest ; and the father and mother birds were
driving him away.
160 FOURTH READER.
2. You would not have believed two such little
birds could drive off such a creature as the hawk,
but they did.
They seemed to fairly buzz around his head,
as flies do around horses ; and at last he flew off
so far that he vanished in the blue sky, and the
little birds came skimming home into the wood.
3. " The little people are stronger than the great
ones, after all," I said.
But where has my ant gone?
It had not been two minutes that I had been
watching the hawk and the birds, but in that two
minutes the ant and the caterpillar had disap-
peared.
4. At last I found them ; where do you think ?
In a fold of my waterproof cloak, on which I was
sitting. The ant had let go the caterpillar and was
running round and round him, and the caterpillar
was too near dead to stir. I shook the fold out,
and as soon as the cloth lay straight and smooth,
the ant fastened his nippers into the caterpillar
again, and started off as fast as ever.
5. By this time the caterpillar was so limp and
helpless that the ant was not afraid of losing him,
so he stopped a second now and then to rest.
Sometimes he would spring upon the caterpil-
THE ant's MONDAY DINNER. 161
lar's back and stretch himself out there; some-
times he would stand still and look at him sharply,
keeping one nipper on his head.
6. It astonished me much at first that none of
the ants he met took any notice of him ; they all
went their own ways, and did not so much as sniff
at the caterpillar.
7. But soon I said to myself, "Do you- not sup-
pose that ants can be as well behaved as people ?
"When you passed Mr. Jones, yesterday, you
did not peep into his market basket, nor touch the
big cabbage he had under his arm."
Presently the ant dropped the caterpillar, and
ran on a few steps — I mean inches — to meet
another ant, who was coming towards him.
8. They put their heads close together for a
second. I could not hear what they said, but they
both ran quickly back to the caterpillar, and one
took him by the head and the other by the tail,
and then they got on finely.
9. It was only a few steps to the ant's house.
The door was a round hole in the ground, about
the size of my little finger. Several ants were
standing in the doorway watching these two as
they come up with the caterpillar.
10. They all took hold as soon as the caterpillar
162
FOURTH READER.
was on the doorsteps, and almost before I knew
he was fairly there, they had tumbled him down,
heels over head, into the ground, and that was
the last I saw of him.
11. The oddest thing was the way the ants
came running home from all directions. I do
not believe there was any dinner-bell rung, though
there might have been a finer one than my ears
could hear, but in less than a minute I had counted
thirty-three ants running down that hole.
12. I fancied they looked as hungry as wolves.
I had a great mind to dig down into the hole with
a stick to see what had become of the caterpillar.
But I thought it would not be quite fair to take
the roof off a man's house to see how he cooked
his beef for dinner, so I sat still awhile wondering
how they would serve him, and if they would leave
any for Tuesday ; and then went home to my own
dinner. H. H. (Mrs. Jackson).
Vanished. — Passed out of sight,
disappeared.
Fancied. — To fancy, in this use,
is to form an opinion without
much care or thought.
Limp. — Weak, without stiffness
or force.
Diverted. — Turned another way.
Serve. — To prepare or arrange
for eating.
Enormous. — A thing is said to
be enormous when it is larger
than'that kind of thing usually
The words on the following page are for reference, and practice
in penmanship.
164
FOURTH READER.
ceil-ing
weaves
■wh.etli-er
"weattL-er
XL.
in-mates
af-fairs
div-ing bell
•win-dow pane
AFRAID OF SPIDERS.
1. Carrie jumped from her seat because a
spider was spinning down before her from the
ceiling. " They are such
hateful black things ! "
she said.
" They are curious
things," said Aunt Nel-
lie. "They have eight
fixed eyes."
2. "Dear me! And
maybe she's looking at
me with all eight of
them," groaned Carrie.
" They are very fond
of music — "
" I shall never dare to
sing again, for fear
they'll be spinning down
to listen."
3. "They can tell you whether the weather
AFRAID OF SPIDERS. 165
is going to be fine or not. If it is going to storm,
they spin a short thread; if it will clear, they
spin a long one."
" That's funny."
4. " They are an odd family," Aunt Nellie
went on. "I saw one on the window-pane the
other day. She carried a little gray silk bag
about with her wherever she ran. She had spun
the bag herself. When it burst open, ever so
many tiny baby spiders tumbled out, like birds
from a nest, and ran along with her. Perhaps
you didn't know that the spider can spin and
sew, too ? She spins her web, and she sews leaves
together for her summer house."
5. "What a queer thing a spider is," said Carrie,
beginning to forget her dislike.
" Yes, and she has a queerer sister in England,
166 FOURTH READER.
wlio makes a raft, and floats on pools of water
upon it in search of flies for her dinner."
6. *'I should like to know what it's made of."
"She binds together a ball of weeds with the
thread she spins."
7. " I wish we could go to England."
" And there's another of the family who lives
under water in a diving-bell, which she weaves
herself."
" How I should like to see her ! "
8. " Maybe you would rather see the one in the
West Indies who digs a hole in the earth. She
lines it with silk of her own making, and fits a
door to it, which opens and closes when the
family go in and out."
" Yes, yes," said Carrie, " how delightful ! "
" But you would be afraid of the inmates ? "
" Perhaps not, now I know their family affairs."
TWINETTE.
167
9. " Did you ever read Mrs. Gatty's story of a
spider, in Parables from Nature ? "
" No, I am sure I never did."
" Well, then, here it is. You may read it aloud
if you like."
Ceiling [ceil, to arch or cover). —
The upper wall of a room.
Affairs. — Things done or to be
done.
Diving-bell. — A contrivance by
which a person can go down in
deep water and be supplied with
air for some time.
Inmates. — Persons who dwell
together in a house.
suf-fi-cient
ex-quis-ite
5l*4c
XLI.
in-tel-li-gent
man-age-a-ble
e-las-tic
ma-cliines
gen-er-a-tion
o-beyed
TWINETTE.— Part I.
1. Twinette the spider was young, hungry, and
industrious.
"Weave yourself a web, my dear," said her
mother, " as you know how without teaching, and
catch flies for yourself. I am old and stay in
corners, but you are young and need not. Besides,
you might be in my way. Scramble along the
rafters a little way and spin. But mind ! see
168 FOUKTH READER.
that there's nothing there — below you, I mean —
before you begin. You will not catch anything to
eat; if there isn't empty space about you for the
flies to fly in."
2. Twinette was dutiful, and obeyed. She ran
along the wood-work of the roof of the church —
for it was there her mother lived — till she had
gone what she thought a suflicient distance ; then
she stopped to look around. As she had eight
eyes, this was not a difficult thing to do, but she
was not sure of what there might be below.
3. "I wonder whether mother would say there
was nothing here — below me, I mean — but
empty space for flies to fly in ? " said she.
She went back to her mother and asked what
she thought.
" Oh dear, oh dear ! '' said her mother, "how can
I think about what I don't see ? There used not
to be anything there in my young days, I'm sure.
But everybody must find out things for themselves.
Let yourself down by the family rope, as you
know how without teaching, and see for yourself
if there's anything there or not."
4. Twinette was an intelligent young spider,
quite worthy of the age she was born in ; so she
thanked her mother, and was just starting afresh,
TWINETTE. 169
when another thought struck her. " How shall I
know if there's anything there when I get there ?"
asked she.
" Dear me ! if there's anything there, how can
you help seeing it ?" cried the mother; "you with
at least eight eyes."
5. "Thank you. Now I quite understand/' said
Twinette; and going back to the end of the rafter,
she began to prepare the family rope.
It was the most exquisite thing in the world, —
so fine, you could scarcely see it; so elastic, it
could be blown about without breaking; such a
perfect gray that it looked white against black
things, and black against white; so manageable
that Twinette could both make it and slide down
by it at once ; and when she wished to get back,
could slip up by it and roll it up at the same
time.
6. It was a wonderful rope for anybody to make
without teaching. But Twinette was not con-
ceited. Eope-making came as natural to her as
eating to hungry boys, and she thought no more
about it than they do of eating their food.
7. How she did it is another question, — one not
easily answered. This much may be hinted : out
of six little spinning-machines near the tail -came
170 FOUETH KEADER.
as many little threads, and the rope was a six-
twist of these. But as each separate thread was
itself a many-twist of a great many others still
finer, I do not pretend to tell the number of
strands in Twinette's family rope. Enough, that
as she made it now, it has been made from gen-
eration to generation without change.
8. The plan was for the spinner to glue the ends
to the rafter, and then start off. Out came the
thread from the spinning-machine, and the further
the spinner travelled, the longer the rope became.
Intelligent. — Sensible, skilled.
Exquisite. — Perfect; of fine
quality, delicate.
Conceited. — Occupied with one's
self.
Worthy. — Having merit or value.
3j<KC
XLII.
sus-pend-ed "wh.im-pered ob-ser-va-tions re-solved
eu>gu-i^en.ts re-sist daw-died draught
TWINETTE. — Part II.
1. Twinette, having made ready, turned on her
back and let herself fairly off.
The glued ends held fast, the strands twined
closely, and down went the family rope with
TWINETTE. 171
Twinette at the end, guiding it-. Down into the
middle of the chancel, where were carved oaken
screens on three sides, and carved oaken seats
below. When Twinette was about half-way down,
she stopped to rest and look around. Then bal-
ancing herself at the end of her rope, with her
legs folded up around her, she made her remarks.
2. "This is charming!" cried she. "Nice empty
space for the flies to fly about in, and a pleasant
time they must have of it. Oh dear, how hungry
I feel ! I must go back and weave at once."
3. Just as she was preparing to roll up the rope
and be off, a ray of sunshine, streaming through
one of the chancel windows, struck upon her sus-
pended body, quite startling her with the dazzle of
its brightness. Everything was in a blaze all about
her, and she turned round and round in terror.
4. " Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear ! " cried she, for
she couldn't help saying something. She gave a
hearty spring, and, blinded though she was, shot
up to the roof, rolling the rope as she went.
After which she stopped to complain.
5. But it is dull work complaining to one's self,
so she ran back to her mother in the corner.
"Back again so soon, my dear?" asked the
old lady, not overpleased.
172 FOURTH READER.
6. "Back again at all is the wonder," whim-
pered Twinette. " There's something down there,
after all, besides empty space."
" Why, what did you see ? " asked her mother.
" Nothing ; that was just it," answered Twinette.
" I could see nothing for dazzle and blaze, but
I did see dazzle and blaze."
7. "Young people of the present day are very
troublesome with their observations," remarked
the mother; "however, if one rule will not do,
here is another. Did dazzle and blaze shove
you out of your place, my dear?"
Twinette said, "Certainly not." She had
come away of herself.
8. "Then how could they be anything?" asked
the mother. " Two things could not be in one
place at the same time. Let Twinette try to
get into Tier place while she was there herself,
and see that this was so."
9. Twinette did not try, for she knew she could
not; but she sat silent, wondering what dazzle
and blaze could be if they were nothing at all.
Fortunately, her mother interrupted her by ad-
vising her to go and get something to do.
"If dazzle and blaze kill me, you'll be sorry,
mother," said Twinette in a pet.
TWINETTE. 173
10. "Nonsense about dazzle and blaze!" cried
the old spider. " I dare say they're only a little
more light than usual. There's more or less
light even here in the corners, at times."
11. Twinette went away, but she felt too cross
to begin to spin. She would rather know about
light than have her dinner, which showed she
was no common spider. So she resolved to go
down in another place to see if she could find a
really empty space.
12. Her good humor returned. "I do believe
I've found nothing at last." As she spoke she
hung dangling at the end of her rope, her legs
tucked up around her as before, in perfect en-
joyment, when suddenly the south door of the
church was opened, and a strong gust set in.
It was a windy evening, and the draught blew
the family rope with Twinette at the end of it,
till she turned quite giddy.
13. " Oh dear," she cried, puffing ; " what shall
I do ? How could they say there was nothing
here but empty space for flies — oh dear ! — to
fly in?" She made an effort at resistance, and
in the very teeth of the wind succeeded in coil-
ing up the rope, and so got back to the rafters.
14. It was a piece of rare good fortune, that a
174 FOURTH READER.
lazy, half -alive fly happened to be creeping along
it just at that moment. She pounced upon
the stroller, and had sucked his juices before
he knew where he was. Then she scrambled
back to her mother, and told her what she
thought, but not in very plain words. For what
she thought was that the old lady didn't know
what she was saying when she talked about
empty space with nothing in it.
15. " Dazzle and blaze were nothing," cried she
at last, "• though they blinded me because they
and I were in one place together, which couldn't
be if they'd been anything ; and now this is
nothing, though it blows me out of my place
twenty times a minute, because I can't see it.
What's the use of rules one can't go by, mother ?
I don't believe you know a quarter of what's
down there."
16. The old spider's head turned as giddy with
Twinette's arguments, as Twinette's had done
while swinging in the wind.
" I don't see what it can matter what's ther6,"
returned she, " if there's room for flies to fly
about in, and I wish you would go back and
spin."
. 17. " That's another part of the question,"
TWINETTE.
175
remarked Twinette in answer to the first half
of her mother's remark. In answer to the
second, back she went, intending to be obedient,
and spin; but she dawdled and thought, and
thought and dawdled, till the day was nearly
over.
Observations. — Thoughts, re-
marks.
Resistance. — The act of striving
against or not yielding to.
Arguments. — Eeasons; attempts
to prove.
Vibrations. — Quick motion to
and fro : successions of sound.
>J«<c
XLIII.
out-land-ish. pave-ment ph.i-los-o-plier ex-haust-ed
vi-bra-tions fes-ti-val in-ter-la-cing com-plet-ed
in-ter-fered tigM-ened re-flec-tions mur-miired
TWINETTE. — Part III.
1. "I will take one more turn down below,"
said she to herself at last, " and look round me
again. I will sift the matter to the bottom. I
will see how far empty space goes." So saying,
she opened her spinning-machines, and started
afresh.
2. It was a wonderful rope, or it would not
176 FOURTH READER.
have gone on to such a length without breaking.
In a few seconds Twinette was on the cold pave-
ment. But she didn't like the feel of it at all,
so she took to running as fast as she could go,
and crept into a corner. "One doesn't know
what to expect in such queer, outlandish places,"
observed she ; " when I've rested I'll go back."
3. When she stepped out of her place, the whole
church was dark. Now it is one thing to be
snug in bed when it is dark, and another to be
a long way from home, and have lost your way,
and not know what may happen to you the next
minute. She wondered what dreadful thing
darkness might be.
Then she thought of her mother's rules and felt
quite angry.
4. " I can't see anything, and I don't feel any-
thing," murmured she, " and yet here's something
that frightens me out of my wits."
At last she felt about for the family rope ; it
was there, safe and sound, and she made a spring.
Roll went the rope, and up went its owner ; higher,
higher, through the dark night air. By the time
she touched the rafter she was half exhausted,
and she fell asleep.
5. It must have been late next mornins; when
TWINETTE. 177
she woke, for the sound of organ music was peal-
ing through the church. The vibrations swept
pleasantly over her, rising and falling like gusts of
night, swelling and sinking like waves of the sea,
gathering and scattering like vapors of the sky.
6. She went down to observe, but nothing was
to be seen to account for her sensations. It was a
harvest festival, and large white lilies were
grouped with evergreens round the slender pillars
of the screens, and the air was filled with their
powerful odors.
7. Still nothing disturbed her from her place.
Sunshine streamed in through the windows, — she
felt it warm on her body, — but it interfered with
nothing else. A door opened, and a breeze caught
her rope ; but still she held fast. So music and
prayer, sunshine, breeze, and scent, were all there
together ; and Twinette was among them, and
saw flies flying about overhead.
8. This was enough ; she went back to her
rafter, chose a home, and began to spin. Before
evening her web was completed, her first prey
caught and feasted upon.
9. Twinette was now a philosopher. As she
crossed and re-crossed the threads, her ideas be-
came cleared. Each line she fastened brought its
178 FOURTH EEADER.
own reflection, and this was the way they went
on : —
^^ Empty space is an old wife's tale" — she fixed
that thread very tight.
10. " Sight and touch are very imperfect guides "
— this crossed the other at an angle.
" Two or three things can easily be in one place
at the same time" — this seemed loose till she
tightened it by a second.
" Sunshine, and scent, and wind, and sound,
don't drive each other out of their places " — that
thread held firm.
11. "When one has sensations, there is some-
thing to cause them, whether one sees it, or feels
it, or finds it out or not " — this was a wonderful
thread ; it went right round the web and fastened
it down in several places.
12. " Light and darkness, sunshine and wind,
sound and sensation, and fright and pleasure, don't
keep away flies" — the little underlacing threads
looked quite pretty as she placed them. " How
many things I know of that I don't know much
about" — the web got thicker every minute —
" And perhaps there's ever so much more beyond
— ever so much more — ever so much more —
beyond."
TWINETTE.
179
13. These were her very last words; she kept
repeating them till she finished her web ; and
when she sat up in state after supper, she began
to repeat them again, for she could think of
nothing better or wiser to say. But this was
no wonder, for all her thoughts put together made
nothing but a cobweb after all !
Philosopher. — One who searches
into the nature and meaning of
things.
Sift the matter. — Study it thor-
oughly.
Sensations. — Feelings and ex-
periences.
Reflections. — Thoughts upon
what she saw, heard, or felt.
A K£ADING REVIKW. — For Expression.
What feeling is expressed on page 151?
Read so as to give it strongly.
Read the stanzas that follow the dash on page 153 to that on
page 154 so as to personate the little boy.
Read the first sentence on page 156 as if the author were re-
peating what some one had just asked her.
Begin with *' Ho ! ho ! " page 157, and read to paragraph 10.
Read paragraph 7, page 161, so as to emphasize ants, people,
Mr. Jones, and give a reason for doing so. You may consider it a
rule that contrasted words, like ants and people in this sentence, are
to be made emphatic.
On page 164, let two pupils read the sayings of Aunt Nellie and
Carrie as in a dialogue.
Read the sentence " I am old," etc., page 167 ; tell what words
are to be made emphatic.
Read the paragraph that describes the spider's family-rope on
page 169, marking ^ne, elastic, gray, and manageable by emphasis.
Talking to one's self is called soliloquy. The voice can be made
to express it. Find the places where Twinette practised it.
180 FOUKTH READER.
XLIV.
knell sch.ol-ar un-touclied. half sti-f led
knock a-lar-um me-tiiinks thieves
THE BOISTEROUS WIND.
What way does the wind come ? What way does
he go?
He rides o'er the water, and over the snow,
Through wood; and through vale ; and o'er rocky
height,
Which the goat cannot climb, takes his sounding
flight;
He tosses about in every bare tree.
As, if you look up, you plainly may see :
But how he will come, and whither he goes,
There's never a scholar in England knows.
He will suddenly stop in a cunning nook,
And ring a sharp 'larum; — but, if you should
look,
There's nothing to see but a cushion of snow,
Round as a pillow, and whiter than milk,
And softer than if it were covered with silk.
Sometimes he'll hide in the cave of a rock,
Then whistle as shrill as the buzzard clock ;
THE BOISTEROUS WIND. 181
Yet seek him, — and what shall jou find in the
place ?
Nothing but silence and empty space ;
Save, in a corner, a heap of dry leaves
That he's left, for a bed, to beggars or thieves !
As soon as 'tis daylight, to-morrow with me
You shall go to the orchard, and then you will see
That he has been there, and made a great rout.
And cracked the branches and strewn them
about.
Heaven grant that he spare but that one upright
twig,
That looked up at the sky so proud and so big
All last summer, as well you know,
Studded with apples, a beautiful show !
Hark ! over the roof he makes a pause.
And growls as if he would fix his claws
Right in the slates, and with a huge rattle
Drive them down, like men in a battle :
But let him range round ; he does us no harm ;
We build up the fire, we're snug and warm ;
Untouched by his breath, see, the candle shines
bright.
And burns with a clear and steady light ;
182
FOURTH READER.
Books have we to read, — hush ! that half-stifled
knell,
Methinks 'tis the sound of the eight o^clock bell.
Come, now we'll to bed ! and when we are there
He may work his own will, and what shall we
care ?
He may knock at the door, — we' 11 not let him
in;
May drive at the windows, — we '11 laugh at his
din;
Let him seek his own home wherever it be ;
Here's a cosey warm house for Edward and me.
Miss Wordsworth.
Buzzard clock. — The beetle.
Rout. — A breaking or scattering.
Cosey. — Snug, well sheltered.
Studded. — Adorned; set thickly.
' Larum {alarum). — Anything
used to give notice of danger;
or the noise that the thing gives.
Methinks. — I think.
COMPOSITION.
Write sentences upon the wind and its effects, after a class con-
versation, to gather the points.
Points : What the wind is ; what winds bring pleasure ; how
they bring health; ways in which the wind is made useful on
land ; on water ; damage done by wind.
Make each sentence tell as much as possible.
Join the sentences into a paragraph.
Write the subject, "Wind," in a line by itself above, and your
name in a line below, at the right side.
THE ACORN AND THE CHILD. 183
XLV.
mas-sive fangs gen-er-a-tions knot-ted
can-o-py groups nour-isli-ment judg-ment
false-liood floiir-ish. in-struc-tion mul-ti-tude
THE ACORN AND THE CHILD.
1. Look at the spreading oak, tne pride of the
village green. Its trunk is massive, its branches
are strong. Its roots, like crooked fangs, strike
deep into the soil and support its huge bulk.
2. The birds build among the boughs, the cattle
rest under its shade, and groups of persons gather
in the shelter of its green canopy.
3. Old men point it out to their children and
tell them that they do not remember when it
grew. Their fathers and grandfathers and other
generations have been born and have died, and
this son of the forest has remained the same. It
has borne the storms of two hundred winters.
4. Yet this large tree was once a little acorn
such as you might now pick-up under some
spreading oak. Such an acorn, whose cup can
contain but a drop or two of dew, contained the
whole oak. What are now its massive trunk, its
knotted branches, its multitude of leaves, belonged
to that little acorn.
184
FOUKTH READEK.
5. It grew, it spread, it unfolded itself little by
little ; it took nourishment
from the rain and the dews
and the rich soilj but with-
out the acorn, rain and dews
and soil could not raise an
oak, nor could they make the
acorn anything but an oak.
6. The mind of a child is
like the acorn. Its powers
are folded up so that they do
not appear.
The memory, the judg-
ment, the power that invents,
the feeling of right and
wrong, all belong to the little
child as the oak belonged to
the acorn.
7. Think of the wisest man
you ever knew, or of whom
you ever heard. Think of
the greatest man who ever
lived. Think of a man who
stands like that tree, and shel-
ters and protects a number
of his fellow-men, and then say to yourself. The
mind of that man was once like mine.
THE ACORN AND THE CHILD. 185
8. His thoughts were childish like my thoughts.
He was once like a little baby child who knows
nothing, remembers nothing, and cannot tell good
from evil nor truth from falsehood.
9. If you had only seen an acorn, you could
never guess at the form and size of an oak. If
you had never listened to the wisdom of the wise
man, you could form no idea of him from the help-
less infant child.
10. Instruction such as you are receiving is the
food of the mind. It is like the dew and the rain
and the rich soil.
11. As the soil and the rain and the dew cause
the tree to put forth its tender shoots, so do books
and study feed the mind and make its hidden
powers unfold.
12. Think, then, while you are a child of the
man within you.
Take the good teachings that are given you,
that he may grow and flourish. You cannot
guess how excellent he may become. It was long
before this oak showed its greatness ; year after
year passed, and it had only shot a little way
above the ground ; a child might have pulled it up
with his little hands. It was long before any one
called it a tree. It seems to you a long time
before the child will become a man.
186
FOURTH READER.
The acorn might have perished in the ground,
the young tree might have been shorn of its grace-
ful boughs, the twig might have been bent so that
the tree would have been crooked, but if it grew
at all it could have been nothing but an oak ; it
could not have been grass or flowers which live a
little time and then perish.
The child may become a foolish man, he may
be a wicked man ; but he must be a man.
Oh ! cherish then this precious gift of a soul,
feed it with truth, nourish it with knowledge.
The oak will last for centuries, but man was
made for an immortal life.
Fangs. — Long, strong tusks or
teeth ; the hooked talons of birds
of prey.
Nourishment. — Food ; that which
sustains life or makes growth.
Cherish. — Care for. (See note
on Cherished, page 24.)
Immortal. — Never ending ; not
perishable.
Centuries. — A century is a hun-
dred years.
Canopy. — A covering overhead,
as of a bed, throne, or any rest-
ing-place.
Generation. — Not a fixed time.
The time between the life of
father and son ; thus, children
count as one generation, fathers
another, and grandparents a
third. In time, about thirty
years.
Compare the formp of nourish^ flourish, cherish, perish.
Read in this connection " The Story of the Old Oak Tree," by
Hans Andersen.
QUERCUS ALBA. ' 187
XL VI.
es-pe-cial-ly Quer-cus in-ex-pe-ri-enced ig-no-rance
coc-cin-e-a a-bash.ed in-for-ma-tion gro-tesque
dif-fi-cul-ties por-tal ac-cus-tomed en-cour-aged
QUERCUS ALBA. — Part I.
1. Quercus Alba lay on the ground, looking up
at the sky. He was in a little brown rustic
cradle which would be pretty for any baby, but
was especially becoming to his shining, bronzed
complexion ; for although his name, Alba, is the
Latin word for white, he did not belong to the
white race.
2. He was trying to play with his cousins,
Coccinea and Rubra, but they were two or three
yards from him, and not one of the three dared
roll any distance for fear of rolling out of his
cradle. So it was not a very lively play.
3. Presently Rubra, who was a sturdy little
fellow, hardly afraid of anything, summoned
courage to roll fully half a yard; and, having
come within speaking distance, began to tell
how his brother had that very morning started
on the grand underground tour, which to the
Quercus family is much like what going to
Europe would be for you and me.
188 • FOUKTH HEADER.
4. Coccinea thought the account very stupid.
He said all his brothers had been, and he should
go himself sometime, he supposed ; then he gave
a shrug to his shoulders, which set his cradle
rocking, and fell asleep in the very face of his
visitors.
6. Not so. Alba ; this was all news to him, —
grand news. He was young and inexperienced,
and full of roving fancies. He lifted his head
as far as he dared, nodded with delight as Rubra
described the departure, and asked eagerly, when
his cousin had finished, "And what will he do
there?"
"Do?" said Rubra, "do? why, he will do just
what everybody else does who goes on the grand
tour."
6. Now this was no answer at all, and yet
little Alba was quite abashed by it, and dared
not push the question further for fear of dis-
playing his ignorance. But this was a mistake,
and there is only one way to correct a mistake
of this kind. Alba happily resolved on it at
once. "If," said he, "Rubra does not choose to
tell me about the grand tour, I shall go and see
for myself."
7. It was a brave resolve for a little fellow
QUERCUS ALBA. 189
like him. He lost no time in preparing to carry
it out ; but^ on pushing against the nearest gate
that led to the underground road, he found that
the frost had fastened it securely, and he must
wait for a warmer day. In the meantime, afraid
to ask any more questions, he yet kept his ears
open to gather any bits of information that
might be useful for his journey.
8. Listening ears can always hear ; and Alba
very soon began to learn from the old trees over-
head, from the dry, rustling leaves around, and
from the little chirping birds that chattered in
the sunshine. In the night a warm, melting
rain opened the frozen gateway, and he boldly
rolled out of his cradle forever, and slipping
through its portal, was lost to sight. The little
chirping birds sung, " No ; no, they never come
back," and a chill was in his heart ; but he held
to his purpose. His mother looked for her baby,
and his brothers and cousins began to feel sorry
to miss their playmate. Rubra would have
petted his cousin with all his heart now, but
Alba was never seen again by his old companions
and friends.
9. "How dark it is, and how hard to make
one's way through this thick atmosphere,"
190 FOURTH READER.
thought little Alba, as he pushed and pushed in
the soft mud. Presently a busy hum sounded
all about him, and becoming accustomed to the
darkness, he could see little forms moving indus-
triously to and fro.
10. Children who live above, and play on the
hillsides, have little idea what is going on under
their feet ; how the dwarfs and fairies are work-
ing there, weaving moss carpets and grass-blades,
forming and painting flowers and scarlet mush-
rooms, tending and nursing all manner of deli-
cate things, which have yet to grow strong
enough to push up and see the outside life,
learn to bear its cold winds, and rejoice in its
sunshine.
11. While Alba was seeing all this, he was
still struggling on, but very slowly ; for first he
ran against the stump of an old tree, then
knocked his head upon a sharp stone, and
finally, bruised and sore, he declared he could
go no further.
12. At that, two odd little beings sprang to
his side, — the one brown as the earth itself,
with eyes like diamonds for brightness, and deft
little fingers, cunning in all works of skill. Pull-
ing off his wisp of a cap, and making a grotesque
QUERCUS ALBA. 191
little bow, he asked, " Will you take a guide for
the underground tour?"
"That I will," said Alba; "for I no longer
find myself able to move a step."
13. "Ha! ha!" laughed the dwarf ; "of course
you can't move in that great body; the ways
are too narrow; you must come out of yourself
before you can get on. Put out your foot now ;
I will show you how to step."
14. "Out of myself?" cried Alba; "why, that
is to die. My foot, did you say ? I have no
feet ; I was born in a cradle, and have always
lived in it till now. So I never could do any-
thing but rock and roll."
15. " Ha ! ha ! ha ! " again laughed the dwarf,
" hear him talk. No feet, does he say ? Why,
he has a thousand if he only knew it; hands,
too, more than he can count. Ask him, sister,
and see what he will say to you."
16. With that, a soft little voice said cheer-
fully, " Give me your hand, that I may lead you
on the upward part of your journey ; for, poor
little fellow, it is indeed true that you do not
know how to live out of your cradle, and we
must show you the way."
17. Alba was encouraged by this kindly speech.
192
FOUKTH READER.
and turning a little toward the speaker, was
about to say (as his mother long ago taught
him in all difficulties), "I'll try/' when a little
cracking noise startled the whole company, and
hardly knowing what he did, Alba thrust out,
through a slit in his shiny brown skin, a little
foot, reaching downward to follow the dwarf's
lead, and a little hand extending upward. The
hand was quickly grasped by that of the fairy,
who stood smiling and lovely in fair green gar-
ments, with a tender^ tiny grass-blade binding
back her golden hair.
18. Oh, what a thrill went through Alba, as he
felt this new possession! a hand and a foot, — a
thousand such, had they not said ? What it all
meant he could only wonder.
Summoned. — Called, command-
ed to come.
Rustic. — Belonging to the coun-
try ; natural ; not polished.
Sturdy. — Hardy, stout, strong.
Tour (toor}. — A going around as
in a circle ; therefore a journey
through a country.
Inexperienced. — Unlearned, not
having met such things in his
own life.
Abashed. — Ashamed, confused.
Portal. — An opening, or gateway.
Grotesque. — Odd, droll.
Deft. — Apt, handy, skilful, and
neat.
STUDY.
The parts of a plant.
QUERCUS ALBA. 193
XL VII.
pro-gress-es at-oms ni-tro-gen rec-og-nized
ma-te-ri-al car-bon prompt-ly ex-cel-lent
QUERCUS ALBA. — Part II.
1. The dwarf had need of his bright eyes and
his skilful hands, for the soft, tiny foot that
trusted itself to him was a mere baby, that had
to find its way through a strange, dark world;
and what was more, it must not only be guided,
but also fed and tended most carefully. The
bright eyes must go before, and the brown fingers
dig out a roadway, and the foot must trust its
guide utterly, and follow on.
2. There is no longer any danger. He runs
against no rocks; he loses his way among no
tangled roots; the hard earth seems to open
gently before him, leading him to the fields where
his own best food lies, and to hidden springs of
sweet fresh water.
3. Do you wonder when I say the foot must be fed ?
Aren't your own feet fed ? To be sure, your feet
have no mouths of their own; but does not the
one mouth of your face eat for your whole body, —
hands and feet, ears and eyes, and all the rest ?
194 FOURTH READER.
4. The difference between you and Alba is that
his foot has mouths of its own ; and as it wanders
through the earth and finds anything good for
food^ it eats both for itself and for the rest of the
body ; for as the little foot progresses, it does not
take the body with it, but only grows longer and
longer and longer, until, while at one end it remains
at home, fastened to the body, at the other it has
travelled a distance such as would be counted miles
by the atoms of people who live in the under world.
5. And, moreover, the foot does not go on alone ;
others have come, by tens and even hundreds, to
join it, and Alba begins to understand what was
meant by " thousands." Thus the feet travel on,
running some to this side, some to that ; here dig-
ging through a bed of clay, and there burying
themselves in a soft sand-hill ; taking now a
mouthful of carbon and again one of nitrogen.
6. These two articles of food do not seem to you
like bread and butter, nor are they ; but you will
some day learn that bread and butter are made in
part of these very same things, and that they are
as useful to Alba as your breakfast, dinner, and
supper are to you. For just as bread and butter
and other food build your body, so carbon and
nitrogen build his.
QUERCUS ALBA. 195
7. You will presently see what a fine, large,
strong body they can make; then you will
perhaps better understand what they are.
Shall we leave the feet to travel their own way
for a time, and see where the fairy has led the
little hand.
QUERCUS ALBA's NEW SIGHT OF THE
UPPER WORLD.
8. It was a soft, helpless", little baby hand. Its
folded fingers lay listlessly in the fairy's gentle
grasp.
"Now we will go up," she said.
He had thought he was going down, and had
heard the chirping birds say he would never
come back. But he had no will to resist the
gentle motion, for it seemed to be, after all,
exactly what he wanted.
9. Presently he found himself lifted out of the
dark earth, feeling again the bright sunshine
and stirred by the breeze that rustled the dry
leaves that lay all about him. Here, too, were
all his old companions, — the chirping birds, his
cousins, old grandfather Rubra, and best of all,
his dear mother; but the odd thing about it all
was that no one seemed to know him. He
196 FOURTH READER.
began to understand why the chirping birds said,
" They never come back ! they never come
back ! " for they truly came in so new a form
that none of their old friends recognized them.
10. Everything that has hands wants to work ;
that is, hands are such excellent tools that no
one who is the happy possessor of a pair is quite
happy till he uses them.
Alba began to have a longing desire to build
a stem and raise himself up among his neigh-
bors, and he looked about for material with
which to build. Promptly the little feet now
made answer to his question, —
11. " You want to build, do you ? well, here is
carbon, the very best material; there is nothing
like it for walls. It makes the most beautiful,
firm wood ; wait a minute, and we will begin to
send up some that we have been storing for your
use."
12. The busy hands go to work, and the child
grows day by day. Having learned the use of car-
bon, these hands gather it for themselves out of
the air about them, which is a great storehouse
for many materials which our eyes cannot see.
13. And Alba learns that to grow and to build
are indeed the same thing ; for his body is tak-
QUERCUS ALBA.
197
ing the form of a strong young tree. His
branches are spreading for a roof over the heads
of a hundred delicate flowers, making a home
for many a bushy-tailed squirrel and pleasant-
voiced wood-bird; for, you see, whoever builds
cannot build for himself alone ; all his neighbors
have the benefit of his work, and all enjoy it
together.
14. What at the first was so hard to attempt,
became grand and beautiful in the doing; and
little Alba, instead of serving merely for a squir-
rel's breakfast, as he might have done had he
not bravely ventured on his journey, stands
before us a noble tree, which is to live a hun-
dred years or more!
15. Do you want to know what kind of a tree ?
Well, some older brother or sister, who studies
Latin, will tell you that Quercus means oak.
Now you can tell what Alba's rustic cradle was,
and who his cousins Rubra and Coccinea (words
for red) were.
Miss Andrews.
Carbon and Nitrogen are found
in all vegetable and animal sub-
stances. It is the carbon in the
oak that makes it good to burn.
A COMPOSITION.
"The Story of a Morning-Glory Seed.*
198 FOURTH READER.
XL VIII.
scarce-ly tongue cliirQ-neys cof-fins
THE CHIMNEY-SWEEP.
When my mother died, I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry, " 'weep ! 'weep ! 'weep ! 'weep ! "
So your chimneys I sweep and in soot I sleep.
There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head,
That curl'd like a lamb's back, was shaved ; so I
said,
" Hush, Tom ! never mind it, for when your head's
bare,
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white
hair."
And so he was quiet , and that very night,
As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight.
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and
Jack,
Were all of them lock'd up in coffins of black.
And by came an angel, who had a bright key,
And he open'd the coffins, and set them all free 5
THE CHIMNEY-SWEEP. 199
Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing they
run,
And wash in a river, and shine in the sun.
Then naked and white, all their bags left behind.
They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind ^ ;
And the angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy.
He'd have God for his father, and never want joy.
And so Tom awoke ; and we rose in the dark,
And got with our bags and our brushes to work ;
Though the morning was cold, Tom was happy
and warm :
So, if all do their duty, they need not fear harm.
W. Blake.
TAIiES OUT OF SCHOOL.
Here are my papers, papa. They show what we wrote in school
each day of the week.
This one, you see, is a letter. It does not say much. We write
so as to learn ways for beginning and ending letters to different
people. This is to a stranger.
Tuesday's lesson was on using capitals. See how many there
are. It was a dictation.
Wednesday we used the writing time in trying to read all kinds
of handwriting. Miss M. had a great many samples.
This is Thursday's. It is a notice of a dog we played was lost ;
and to-day we wrote all the words that any one had failed in all
the week. There are fifteen, but I missed only one.
1 Pronounce wind (wind) so as to rhyme with behind.
200 FOURTH READER.
XLIX.
chintz fur-ni-ture puz-zled re-la-tion
flues for-eign ter-ri-er sav-a-ges
LITTLE TOM THE CHIMNEY-SWEEP.— Part I.
1. Tom and his master did not go into Harth-
over House by the great iron gates, as if they had
been dukes or bishops, but round the back way,
and a very long way round it was ; and into a lit-
tle back door, and then in a passage the house-
keeper met them, in such a flowered chintz
dressing-gown, that Tom mistook her for my
lady herself ; and she gave Grimes solemn orders
about " You will take care of this, and take care
of that," as if he were going up the chimneys, and
not Tom.
2. And Grimes listened, and said every now and
then, under his voice, "You'll mind that, you
little beggar ! " and Tom did mind, at least all
that he could. And then the housekeeper turned
them into a grand room, all covered up in sheets
of brown paper, and bade them begin, in a lofty
and tremendous voice : and so after a whimper or
two, and a kick from his master, into the grate
LITTLE TOM THE CHIMNEY-SWEEP. 201
Tom went, and up the chimney, while a house-
maid stayed in the room to watch the furniture.
8. How many chimneys he swept I cannot say ;
but he swept so many that he got quite tired, and
puzzled too, for they were not like the town flues
to which he was used, but such as are to be found
in old country-houses, large and crooked chimneys,
which had been altered again and again, till they
ran into one another.
4. So Tom fairly lost his way in them ; not that
he cared much for that, though he was in pitchy
darkness, for he was as much at home in a chim-
ney as a mole is under ground ; but at last, coming
down as he thought the right chimney, he came
down the wrong one, and found himself standing
on the hearthrug in a room the like of which he
had hever seen before.
6. Tom had never seen the like. He had never
been in gentlefolks' rooms but when the carpets
were all up and the curtains down, and the furni-
ture huddled together under a cloth, and the pic-
tures covered with aprons and dusters ; and he had
often enough wondered what the rooms were like
when they were all ready for the quality to sit in.
And now he saw, and he thought the sight very
pretty.
202 FOURTH READER.
6. The room was all dressed in white ; white
window curtains, white bed curtains, white furni-
ture, and white walls, with just a few lines of pink
here and there. The carpet was all over gay little
flowers, and the walls hung with pictures in gilt
frames, which amused Tom very much. There
were pictures of ladies and gentlemen, and pictures
of dogs and horses. The horses he liked, but the
dogs he did not care for much, for there were no
bull-dogs amongst them, not even a terrier.
7. But of the two pictures which took his fancy
the most, one was a man in long garments, with
little children and their mothers round him, who
was laying his hand upon the children's heads.
That was a very pretty picture, Tom thought, to
hang in a lady's room ; for he could see that it
was a lady's room by the dresses which lay
about.
8. The other picture was that of a man nailed
to a cross, which surprised Tom much. He fan-
cied that he had seen something like it in a shop
window. But why was it there ? " Poor man,"
thought Tom, "and he looks so kind and quiet.
But why should the lady have such a sad picture
in her room ? Perhaps it was some relation of
hers, who had been murdered by savages in foreign
THE PET LAMB.
203
parts, and she kept it there for a remembrance."
And Tom felt sad, and awed, and turned to look
at something else.
Chintz. — Calico.
Solemn (-em). — Serious, grave.
Tremendous. — Fearful, awful.
The quality, gentlefolks. — Per-
sons of high rank.
Pitchy. — Like pitch, black.
Foreign. — Belonging to other
countries.
Awed. — Filled with awe; i.e., re-
spect, or reverence, and fear.
es-pied
bal-lad
teth-ered
un-ob-served
re-traced
meas-ured
wool-len
cov-ert
THE PET LAMB. — Part I.
The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink :
I heard a voice ; it said, " Drink, pretty creature,
drink!"
And looking o'er the hedge, before me I espied
A snow-white mountain lamb, with a maiden at its
side.
Nor sheep, nor kine were near ; the lamb was all
alone.
And by a slender cord was tether'd to a stone ;
204 FOURTH READER.
With one knee on the grass did the little maiden
kneel, _ .
While to that mountain lamb she gave its evening
meal.
The lamb, while from her hand he thus his supper
took,
Seem'd to feast with head and ears ; and his tail
with pleasure shook :
" Drink, pretty creature, drink ! " she said, in such
a tone
That I almost received her heart into my own.
'Twas little Barbara Lewthwaite, a child of beauty
rare!
I watch' d them with delight, they were a lovely
pair;
Now with her empty can the maiden turn'd away ;
But ere ten yards were gone, her footsteps did she
stay.
Eight towards the lamb she look'd ; and from that
shady place
I unobserved could see the workings of her face :
If nature to her tongue could measured numbers
bring,
THE PET LAMB. 205
Thus, thought I, to her lamb that little maid might
sing : —
" What ails thee, young one ? what ? Why pull so
at thy cord ?
Is it not well with thee ? well both for bed and
board ?
Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass can be ;
Rest, little young one, rest ; what is't that aileth
thee?
" What is it thou wouldst seek ? What is want-
ing to thy heart ?
Thy limbs are they not strong ? and beautiful thou
art!
This grass is tender grass ; these flowers they have
no peers ;
And that green corn all day is rustling in thy ears.
" If the sun be shining hot, do but stretch thy
woollen chain ;
This beech is standing by, its covert thou canst
gain;
For rain and mountain-storms! — the like thou
need'st not fear.
The rain and storm' are things that scarcely can
come here.
206 FOURTH READER
LI.
yean be-like hearth. re-traced
kind-er ■wh.ith.-er draughts for-ever-more
THE PET LAMB. — Part II.
" Rest, little young one^ rest -, thou hast forgot the
day
When my father found thee first in places far
away;
Many flocks were on the hills, but thou wert
own'd by none,
And thy mother from thy side forevermore was
gone.
" He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought
thee home :
A blessed day for thee! — then whither wouldst
thou roam ?
A faithful nurse thou hast; the dam that did
thee yean
Upon the mountain-tops no kinder could have
been.
" Thou know'st that twice a day I have brought
thee in this can
THE PET LAMB. 207
Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever
ran;
And twice in the day, when the ground is wet
with dew,
I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it is and
new.
" Thy limbs will shortly be twice as stout as they
are now ;
Then I'll yoke thee to my cart like a pony in the
plough !
My playmate thou shalt be ; and when the wind
is cold.
Our hearth shall be thy bed, our house shall be
thy fold.
" It will not, will not rest ! — Poor creature, can
it be
That 'tis thy mother s heart which is working so
in thee ?
Things that I know not of belike to thee are dear.
And dreams of things which thou canst neither
see nor hear.
" Alas, the mountain-tops that look so green and
fair !
208 FOURTH READER.
I've heard of fearful winds and darkness that come
there;
The little brooks that seem all pastime and all
play,
When they are angry, roar like lions for their
prey.
" Here thou need'st not dread the raven in the
sky;
Night and day thou art safe, — our cottage is hard
by-
Why bleat so after me? Why pull so at thy
chain ?
Sleep — and at break of day I will come to thee
again ! "
As homeward through the lane I went with lazy
feet,
This song to myself did I oftentimes repeat ;
And it seem'd, as I retraced the ballad line by line.
That but half of it was hers, and one half of it
was TYiine,
Again^ and once again^ did I repeat the song ;
" Nay," said I, " more than half to the damsel
must belong ! —
LITTLE TOM THE CHIMKEY-SWEEP.
209
For she look'd with Buch a look, and she spake
with such a tone, ^Oa
That I almost received her heart into my own/'
W. Wordsworth;
Unobserved. — Not noticed, not
Belike. — Maybe, probably.
seen.
Retrace. —Trace back, go back
Measured numbers.— Verse, poe-
by the same way. .-
try.
Kine. — Cows ; the plural of cow.
Peers. — Equals.
Yean. -Bear or bring forth.
Covert. — Covering, shelter.
Ballad. — A ballad was first a song
Pastime, passtime. — Amuse-
to dance by, then any song with
ment.
simple verses telling a storyv -^
:>>^^
asrton-isli-inent
LII.
■wrist raag-no-lia
aii-gri-ly
LITTLE TOM THE CHIMNEY-SWEEP. — Part II.,.,
1. The next thing Tom saw, and that, too>
puzzled him, was a washing-stand, with jugs and
basins, and soap and brushes and towels, and a
large bath full of clean water. "What a heap
of things all for washing ! She must be a very-
dirty lady," thought Tom, " to want as much
scrubbing as all that. But she must be very
cunning to put the dirt so well out of the way
210 FOURTH READER.
afterwards, for I don't see a speck about the
room, not even on the very towels."
2. And then, looking towards the bed, he saw
that dirty lady, and held his breath with aston-
ishment.
Under the snow-white coverlet upon the snow-
white pillow, lay the most beautiful little girl
Tom had ever seen. Her cheeks were almost
as white as the pillow, and her hair was like
threads of gold spread all about over the bed.
She might have been as old as Tom, or maybe
a year or two older, but Tom did not think of
that ; he thought only of her delicate skin and
golden hair, and wondered if she were a real
live person, or one of the wax dolls he had seen
in the shops. But when he saw her breathe,
he made up his mind that she was alive, and
stood staring at her as if she had been an angel
out of heaven.
3. " No, she cannot be dirty ; she never could
have been dirty," thought Tom to himself, and
then he thought, " Are all people like that when
they are washed ? " And he looked at his own
wrist, and tried to rub the soot off, and won-
dered if it ever would come off. "Certainly I
should look much prettier then, if I grew at all
like her."
LITTLE TOM THE CHIMNEY-SWEEP.
211
4. And looking rounds he suddenly saw, stand-
ing close to him, a little ugly, black, ragged
figure, with bleared eyes and grinning white
teeth. He turned on it angrily, " What did
such a little black ape want in that sweet young
lady's room ? " And behold, it was himself, re-
flected in a great mirror, the like of which he
had never seen before.
5. And Tom, for the first time in his life, found
out that he was dirty, and burst into tears of
212 FOURTH EEADER.
shame and anger, and turned to sneak up the
chimney again and hide; and upset the fender,
and threw the fire-irons down, with a noise as
of two thousand tin kettles tied to ten thousand
mad dogs' tails.
6. Up jumped the little white lady in her bed,
and seeing Tom, screamed as shrill as any pea-
cock. In rushed a stout old nurse from the
next room, and seeing Tom likewise, made up
her mind that he had come to rob, plunder,
destroy, and burn ; and dashed at him, as he
lay over the fender, so fast that she caught him
by the jacket.
7. But she did not hold him ; Tom would have
been ashamed to face his friends forever if he
had been stupid enough to be caught by an old
woman; so he doubled under the good lady's
aym, across the room, and out of the window
in a moment.
8. He did not need to drop out, though he
would have done so bravely enough, for all
under the window spread a tree, with great
leaves, and sweet white fiowers, almost as big
as his head. It was a magnolia ; and down he
went, like a cat, and across the garden lawn,
and over the iron railings, and up the park
LITTLE STREAMS.
213
towards the wood^ leaving the old nurse to
scream murder and fire at the window.
Charles Kingsley.
Bleared. — Dimmed by disease,
or tears, or bad usage, like
going back and forth from the
dark chimneys to the bright
sunshine.
Plunder. — To take by force.
Mirror. — A looking-glass.
Reflected. — Given back.
Shrill. — Sharp, high pitched.
Doubled. — Made a turn by which
to escape.
Fender. — The frame around the
fireplace to keep the coals from
rolling out upon the floor.
^^^c
LIII.
trib-ute
glanc-ing
pee-vish.
■wea-ry
LITTLE STREAMS.
Little streams are light and shadow,
Flowing through the pasture meadow,
Flowing by the green wayside.
Through the forest dim and wide ;
Through the village small and still, —
Turning here and there a mill, —
Bearing tribute to the river, —
Little streams, I love you ever.
214
FOURTH READER.
Summer music there is flowing —
Flowering plants in them are growing ;
Little birds come down to drink
Fearless of their leafy brink ;
Noble trees beside them grow,
Glooming them with branches low ;
And between, the sunshine, glancing
In their little waves, is dancing.
Up in mountain hollows wild.
Fretting like a peevish child.
Through bright valleys, where all day
In their waves the children play.
Running west, or running east.
Doing good to man and beast —
Always giving, weary never,
Little streams, I love you ever.
Mary Howitt.
Tribute. — Something paid regu-
larly, either as a due, or as an
expression of friendship and de-
pendence.
Glancing and glooming are set
in contrast, like light and
shadow.
Brink. — The edge or border of a
steep place ; the steep bank of
COMPOSITION.
The pleasure to be found in and about a brook,
brooks.
The uses of
THE ANXIOUS LEAF. 215
LIV.
au-tuinn liol-i-day Oc-to-ber trem-bling
THE ANXIOUS LEAF.
1. Once upon a time a little leaf was heard to
cry and sigh, as leaves often do when a gentle
wind is blowing. And the twig said, "What is
the matter, little leaf ? "
2. The leaf said, "The wind has just told me
that one day it would pull me off, and throw me
down upon the ground to die."
3. The twig told it to the branch, and the branch
told it to the tree. And when the tree heard it, it
rustled all over, and sent word back to the trem-
bling leaf.
4. " Do not be afraid," it said ; " hold on tightly,
and you shall not go off till you want to ! "
And so the leaf stopped sighing, and went on
singing and rustling. Every time the tree shook
itself, and stirred all its leaves, the little leaf
danced merrily, as if nothing could ever pull it
off. It grew all the summer long till October.
5. And when the bright days of autumn came,
the leaf saw all the leaves around growing very
216
FOURTH READER.
beautiful. Some were yellow, some were brown,
and many were striped with different colors. Then
the leaf asked the tree what this meant.
6. The tree said, " All these leaves are getting
ready to fly away, and they have put on these
beautiful colors because of their joy."
Then the little leaf began to want to go, and
grew very beautiful in thinking of it. And when
it was gay in colors, it saw that the branches of
the tree had no colors in them. So the leaf said,
" branch ! why are you lead-colored while we are
all beautiful and golden ?"
7. " We must keep on our work clothes," said
the tree, " for our work is not yet done ; but your
clothes are for holiday, because your tasks are
over."
8. Just then a little puff of wind came, and the
leaf let go without thinking of it, a,nd the wind
took it up and turned it over and over and whirled
it in the air.
Then it fell gently down under the edge of
the fence, among hundreds of leaves, and has never
waked to tell us what it dreamed about.
Whirled. — Blew it round and
round, as in a circle.
Tasks. — Something given one to
do or learn,
HOW THE LEAVES CAME DOWN. 217
LV.
frol-icked Tirge liud-dled flut-ter-ing
HOW THE LEAVES CAME DOWN.
" ril tell you how the leaves came down,"
The great tree to his children said :
"You're getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown.
Yes, very sleepy, little Eed."
"Ah ! " begged each silly pouting leaf
" Let us a little longer stay ;
Dear Father Tree, behold our grief ;
'Tis such a very pleasant day.
We do not want to go away."
So, just for one more merry day
To the great tree the leaflets clung.
Frolicked and danced, and had their way,
Upon the autumn breezes swung,
Whispering all their sports among.
" Perhaps the great tree will forget.
And let us stay until the spring.
If we all beg, and coax, and fret."
But the great tree did no such thing ;
He smiled to hear their whispering.
218
FOURTH READER.
"Come, children all, to bed/' he cried;
And ere the leaves could urge their prayer.
He shook his head, and far and wide,
Fluttering and rustling everywhere,
Down sped the leaflets through the air.
I saw them ; on the ground they lay,
Golden and red, a huddled swarm,
Waiting till one from far away.
White bedclothes heaped upon her arm.
Should come to wrap them safe and warm.
The great bare tree looked down and smiled.
" Good night, dear little leaves," he said.
And from below each sleepy child
Eeplied, "Good night," and murmured,
"It is so nice to go to bed ! "
Susan Coolidge.
A huddled swarm. — A great and
crowded collection or multitude.
White bedclothes. — What are
they?
Urge. — To press, to push, to ask
earnestly.
Sped. — Made haste.
ORAIi COMPOSITION
Tell this story in simple words.
Thus, " The great tree told," etc.
THE FOX AND THE HOKSE. 219
LVI.
peas-ant av-a-rice con-so-la-tion lei-sure
fi-del-i-ty re-quired down-lieart-ed con-sume
THE FOX AND THE HORSE.
1. A peasant once had a faithful horse who had
grown old and could not serve his master any
longer; he did not care therefore to provide
him with food. So he said to the old horse, "1
really do not want you any more, for you are of
no use to me ; but if you can prove your strength
by bringing me a lion, I will keep you as long as
you live. In the meantime, however, just walk
out of my stable, and go and make yourself a
home in the fields."
2. The horse, feeling very sad, wai^dered away
till he came to a wood, so that he might shelter
himself under the trees in bad weather. Here a
fox met him, and said, " Friend, why do you hang
your head and look so lonely ? "
3. " Ah," replied the horse, " avarice and fidelity
cannot dwell together in one house. My master
has forgotten for how many years I have served
him and borne him safely from place to place;
and now that I am unable to plough any longer,
220 FOURTH READER.
he will not provide me with food, and has sent me
away."
4. " Without any consolation ? " asked the fox.
^^The consolation was worthless," replied the
horse. " He told me that if I was strong enough
to bring him a lion, he would take me back and
keep me ; but he knows very well that I could not
possibly do that."
5. Then said the fox, " Don't be downhearted ;
I can help you. Just lie down here, stretch your-
self out as if you were dead, and do not move."
The horse did as the fox desired him, while the
fox went to a lion, whose den was not far off.
"Yonder lies a dead horse," said the fox to the
lion ; " come with me and I will show you where
it is, and you can have a good feast."
6. The lion went with the fox ; but when they
reached the spot, the fox said, " You cannot make
a meal comfortably here. I'll tell you what I will
do : I will tie the horse to your tail; and then
you can drag him to your den and consume him at
your leisure."
7. The lion was pleased with this advice; he
placed himself near the horse, and stood quite still
to enable the fox to tie the tail securely. But, in
doing so, the fox contrived to twist it round the
THE FOX AND THE HORSE. 221
lion's legs so tightly that with all his strength he
could not move them. When the fox had accom-
plished this feat, he struck the horse on the shoul-
der, and cried, " Gee up, old horse ! gee up ! "
8. Up sprang the horse, and started off at full
speed, dragging the lion with him. As they
dashed through the wood, the lion began to roar,
and roared so loud that all the birds flew away in
a fright. But the horse let him roar, and dragged
him away over field and meadow to his master's
door. As soon as the master saw what his horse
had done, he said to him, '' As you have accom-
plished what I required, you shall now stay with
me and have food and shelter as long as you live."
J. & W. Gkimm.
Peasant. — Countryman.
Avarice. — Greediness.
Fidelity. — Faithfulness.
Consolation. — Comfort ; any-
thing to cheer one's spirits.
Consume. — Eat up, devour.
Leisure. — Spare time, conven-
ience.
Yonder. — Near by, close at hand.
Contrived. — Managed, was able
to arrange.
Accomplished. — Performed.
Feat. — An act of skill or cun-
ning.
To enable. — To make possible
or easy.
Use some other word for desired ; for securely, required, worth-
s.
STUDY.
State or write the facts of this story.
222 FOUKTH READER.
LVII.
thatched ren-der-ing stur-di-ly pal-ings
bar-tered grad-u-al-ly prof-it-a-ble ar-ti-cle
WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS RIGHT.— Part I.
1. I have no doubt that you have been in the
country and seen a very old farm-house, with a
thatched roof, and mosses and small plants grow-
ing wild upon it. There is a stork's nest upon
the ridge of the gable, for we cannot do without
the stork. The walls of the house are sloping,
and the windows are low, and only one of the lat-
ter is made to open. The baking-oven sticks out
of the wall like a great knob. An elder-tree
hangs over the palings ; and beneath its branches,
at the foot of the paling, is a pool of water, in
which a few ducks are disporting themselves.
There is a yard dog too, who barks at all comers.
^ 2. Just such a farm-house as this stood in a
country lane ; and in it dwelt an old couple, a
peasant and his wife. Small as their possessions
were, they had one article they could not do with-
out, and that was a horse, which contrived to live
upon the grass which it found by the side of the
high-road.
WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS RIGHT. 223
3. The old peasant rode into the town upon
this horse, and his neighbors often borrowed it of
him, and paid for the loan of it by rendering some
service to the old couple. After a time they
thought it would be as well to sell the horse, or
exchange it for something which might be more
useful to them. But what might this something
be?
4. " You'll know best, old man," said the wife.
"It is fair-day to-day; so ride into the town and
get rid of the horse for money, or make a good ex-
change ; whichever you do will be right to me, so
ride to the fair."
5. And she fastened his neckerchief for him;
for she could do that better than he could, and she
could also tie it very prettily in a double bow.
She also smoothed his hat round and round with
the palm of her hand, and gave him a kiss. Then
he rode away upon the horse that was to be sold
or bartered for something else. Yes, the old man
knew what he was about.
6. The sun shone with great heat, and not a
cloud was to be seen in the sky. The road was
very dusty, for a number of people all going to the
fair, were driving, riding, or walking upon it.
There was no shelter anywhere from the hot sun-
224 FOURTH READER.
shine. Among the rest a man came trudging
along, and driving a cow to the fair. The cow
was as beautiful a creature as any cow could be.
7. " She gives good milk, I am certain," said
the peasant to himself. " That would be a very
good exchange : the cow for the horse. Hello,
there ! you with the cow," he said, " I tell you
what ; I daresay a horse is of more value than a
cow ; but I don't care for that, a cow will be more
useful to me ; so, if you like, we'll exchange."
'' To be sure I will," said the man.
8. Accordingly the exchange was made ; and
as the matter was settled, the peasant might have
turned back ; for he had done the business he had
come to do. But, having made up his mind to go
to the fair, he determined to do so, if only to have
a look at it ; so on he went to the town with his
cow. Leading the animal he strode on sturdily ;
and, after a short time, overtook a man who was
driving a sheep. It was a good fat sheep, with a
fine fleece on its back.
9. "I'd like to have that fellow," said the peas-
ant. " There is plenty of grass for him by our pal-
ings, and in winter we could keep him in the room
with us. Perhaps it would be more profitable to
have a sheep than a cow. Shall I exchange ? "
WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS RIGHT. 225
10. The man with the sheep was quite ready,
and the bargain was quickly made. And then our
peasant continued his way on the high-road with
his sheep. Soon after this he overtook another
man, who had come into the road from a field, and
was carrying a large goose under his arm.
11. "What a heavy creature you have there,"
said the peasant ; " it has plenty of feathers and
plenty of fat, and would look well tied to a string,
or paddling in the water at our place. That would
be very useful to my old woman ; she could make
all sorts of profit out of it. How often she has
said, ' If, now, we only had a goose ! ' Now here is
an opportunity, and, if possible, I will get it for
her. Shall we exchange? I will give you my
sheep for your goose, and thanks into the bargain."
12. The other had not the least objection, and
accordingly the exchange was made, and our peas-
ant became possessor of the goose. By this time
he had arrived very near the town. The crowd on
the high-road had been gradually increasing, and
there was quite a rush of men and cattle. The
cattle walked on the path and by the palings, and
at the turnpike gate they even walked into the toll-
keeper's potato-field, where one fowl was strutting
about with a string tied to its leg, for fear it should
226 FOURTH READER.
take fright at the crowds and run away and get
lost. The tail-feathers of this fowl were very
short, and it winked with both its eyes, and looked
very cunning as it said, " Cluck, cluck."
13. What were the thoughts of the fowl as it
said this I cannot tell you ; but directly our good
man saw it, he thought, " Why, that's the finest
hen I ever saw in my life ; it's finer than our par-
son's brood hen ; upon my word, I should like to
have that fowl. Fowls can always pick up a few
grains that lie about, and almost keep themselves.
I think it would be a good exchange if I could get
it for my goose. Shall we exchange?" he asked
the toll-keeper.
14. " Exchange," repeated the man ; " well, it
would not be a bad thing."
And so they made an exchange ; the toll-keeper
at the gate kept the goose, and the peasant carried
off the fowl. Now he had really done a great deal
of business on his way to the fair, and he was hot
and tired. He wanted something to eat, and a
glass of ale to refresh himself ; so he turned his
steps to an inn. He was just about to enter when
the hostler came out, and they met at the door.
The hostler was carrying a sack. "What have
you in that sack ? " asked the peasant.
WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS RIGHT. 227
15. " Rotten apples," answered the hostler ; " a
whole sackful of them. They will do to feed the
pigs with."
" Why, that will be terrible waste/' he replied ;
"1 should like to take them home to my old
woman. Last year the old apple-tree by the grass-
plot only bore one apple, and we kept it in the
cupboard till it was quite withered and rotten. It
was always property, my old woman said ; and
here she would see a great deal of property, — a
whole sackful; I should like to show them to
her."
16. " What will you give me for the sackful ? "
said the hostler.
" What will I give you ? Well, I will give you
my fowl in exchange."
So he gave up the fowl, and received the apples,
which he carried into the inn parlor. He leaned
the sack carefully against the stove, and then went
to the table. ^
In the country. — The writer is
speaking of Denmark.
Disport. — Sport, play, amuse.
Render. — Give back, do.
Exchange, barter. — Give one
thing for another.
Profitable. — Bringing gain, use-
ful.
Sturdily. — Stoutly ; with firm,
dogged steps.
Opportunity. — Favorable time
or chance.
Directly. — As soon as, immedi-
ately.
Gradually. — Step by step; by
degrees.
228 FOURTH READER.
LVIII.
blos-soms burst-ing trem-bled quiv-er-ing
THE TREE.
The tree's early leaf -buds were bursting their brown.
" Shall I take them away ? " said the frost, sweep-
ing down.
" No ; leave them alone
Till the blossoms have grown,"
Prayed the tree, while he trembled from rootlet to
crown.
The tree bore his blossoms, and all the birds sung.
" Shall I take them away ? " said the wind as he
swung.
" No ; leave them alone
Till the berries have grown,"
Said the tree, while his leaflets quivering hung.
The tree bore his fruit in the midsummer glow.
Said the child, " May I gather thy berries now ?"
" Yes ; all thou canst see ;
Take them ; all are for thee,"
Said the tree, while he bent down his laden boughs
low. Bjornstjerne Bjornson.
WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS RIGHT. 229
LIX.
•wa-ger at-ten-tion biolged sliriv-elled
poul-try de-liglit-ful guests neigh.-bors
WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS RIGHT. — Part II.
1. Now the stove was hot, and the old man had
not thought of that. Many guests were present
— horse-dealers, cattle-drovers, and two English-
men. The Englishmen were so rich that their
pockets quite bulged out and were ready to burst,
and they bet too, as you shall hear. " Hiss-S'Sy
hiss-s-s.'' What could that be by the stove ?
The apples were beginning to roast. "What is
that ? " asked one.
2. " Why, do you know — " said our peasant.
And then he told them the whole story of the
horse, which he had exchanged for a cow, and
all the rest of it, down to the apples.
"Well, your old woman will give it you well
when you get home," said one of the English-
men. " Won't there be a noise ? "
3. "What! give me what?" said the peasant.
" Why, she will kiss me, and say, what the good-
man does is always right.''
"Let us lay a wager on it," said the English-
230 FOURTH READER.
man. ^^ We'll wager you a ton of coined gold,
a hundred pounds to the hundredweight."
4. " No ; a bushel will be enough/' replied the
peasant, " I can only set a bushel of apples
against it, and I'll throw myself and my old
woman into the bargain; that will pile up the
measure, I fancy."
" Done ! taken ! " and so the bet was made.
Then the landlord's coach came to the door, and
the two Englishmen and the peasant got in,
and away they drove, and soon arrived and
stopped at the peasant's hut.
5. "Good evening, old woman."
" Good evening, old man."
"I've made the exchange."
" Ah, well, you understand what you're about,"
said the woman. Then she embraced him, and
paid no attention to the strangers, nor did she
notice the sack.
"I got a cow in exchange for the horse."
6. " Thank Heaven ! " said she. " Now we shall
have plenty of milk, and butter, and cheese on
the table. That was a capital exchange."
"Yes, but I changed the cow for a sheep."
"Ah, better still!" cried the wife. "You
always think of everything ; we have just enough
WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS RIGHT. 231
pasture for a sheep. Ewe's milk and cheese,
woollen jackets and stockings ! The cow could
not give all these, and her hairs only fall oE.
How you think of everything ! "
7. " But I changed away the sheep for a goose."
" Then we shall have roast goose to eat this
year. You dear old man, you are always think-
ing of something to please me. This is delight-
ful. We can let the goose walk about with a
232 FOUETH READER.
string tied to her leg, so she will be fatter still
before we roast her."
^^But I gave away the goose for a fowl."
8. "A fowl ! Well, that was a good exchange,"
replied the woman. "The fowl will lay eggs
and hatch them, and we shall have chickens;
we shall soon have a poultry-yard. Oh, this is
just what I was wishing for."
" Yes, but I exchanged the fowl for a sack of
shrivelled apples."
9. "What! I must really give you a kiss for
that ! " exclaimed the wife. " My dear, good
husband, now I'll tell you something. Do you
know, almost as soon as you left this morning,
I began thinking of what I could give you nice
for supper this evening, and then I thought of
fried eggs and bacon with sweet herbs ; I had
eggs and bacon, but I wanted the herbs ; so I
went over to our neighbors : I knew they had
plenty of herbs, but the mistress is very mean,
although she can smile so sweetly.
10. " I begged her to lend me a handful of herbs.
' Lend ! ' she exclaimed ; ^ I have nothing to lend,
nothing at all grows in our garden, not even a
shrivelled apple; I could not even lend you a
shrivelled apple, my dear woman.' But now I
WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS RIGHT. 233
can lend her ten, or a whole sackful, which I'm
very glad of : it makes me laugh to think about
it ; '* and then she gave him a hearty kiss.
11. "Well, I like all this," said both the Eng-
lishmen; "always going down the hill, and yet
always merry ; it's worth the money to see it."
So they paid a hundredweight of gold to the
peasant, who, whatever he did, was not scolded
but kissed.
Hans C. Andersen.
Embraced. — Clasped in her arms.
Shrivelled. — Shrunken, dried up,
withered.
Ton.- Twenty hundredweight.
Wager. — A bet ; a sum of money
to be paid to one of two parties
if something happens according
to their prediction.
A BEADING REVIEW.
1. Find on page 180 these phrases : —
"Which the goat cannot climb"; "if you look up"; " if you
should look up " ; and " as you well know." Read the stanzas as
if they were in parentheses.
2. Page 188. Read " what will he do " and the answer.
3. Page 191. Begin "will you."
4. In The Pet Lamb, express the persuading tone in " Drink,
pretty creature " ; " What ails thee," etc. (205). " It will not, will
not rest," etc. (207).
5. Read Tom's soliloquy (pp. 208-210), with the description of
the little girl, and then of himself.
6. Read paragraph 1, page 209, and the sayings of the horse
and dog. Read the Goodman's talk in buying the cow; the
sheep; the goose; the hen; the apples ; and the closing dialogue
(p. 230).
234 FOURTH READER^
LX.
THE USE OF FLOWERS.
God might have bade the earth bring forth
Enough for great and small.
The oak-tree and the cedar-tree
Without a flower at all ;
We might have had enough, enough
For every want of ours ;
For luxury, medicine, and toil,
And yet have had no flowers.
Then wherefore, wherefore were they made^-
All dyed with rainbow light.
All fashioned with supremest grace,
Upspringing day and night ?
Springing on valleys green and low,
And on the mountains high,
And in the silent wilderness
Where no man passes by ?
Our outward life requires them not ; — ■
Then wherefore had they birth ?
To minister delight to man.
To beautify the earth,
TOM THE WATER-BABY.
235
To comfort man, to whisper hope
Wherever his faith is dim ;
For who so careth for the flowers
Will much more care for Him.
Mary Howitt.
Luxury. — Something costly or
expensive, usually in food or
drink.
Fashioned. — Shaped or formed
in a special way.
Minister. — To supply or give.
Supremest. — Highest ; greatest.
Dyed. — Colored.
Requires. — Needs.
Wilderness. — A wild place.
y^^c
cad-dis
knots
crys-tal
shrieked
na-ture
de-serve
LXI.
tor-ment-ing
med-dle-some
mis-cliiev-oiis
ex-act-ly
com-pa-ny
grat-ing
TOM THE WATER-BABY.
1. What a water-baby is, and how Tom, the
poor little chimney-sweep, came to be one, I can-
not tell you here. You must read the book which
contains Tom's whole history.
2. Tom woke — so of course he must have been
asleep — and found himself a little being, four
inches long, with a set of gills about his neck,
which he mistook for a lace frill, till he tried to
236 FOURTH READER.
pull them off, and found he hurt himself; so he
made up his mind they had best be let alone. In
fact, the fairies had turned him into a water-
baby.
3. Tom was very happy. He swam along the
pretty water-ways, or climbed upon the rocks. He
watched the sandpipers hanging in thousands,
and the caddis-flies building their houses with
silk and glue.
4. There were water-flowers, too, and Tom tried
to pick them, but they drew themselves in and
turned into knots of jelly ; and then Tom saw that
they were all alive — bells, and stars, and wheels,
and flowers, of all beautiful shapes and colors;
and all alive and busy, just as Tom was.
5. Tom soon learned to understand the sea-
animals, and talk to them ; so that he might have
had very pleasant company if he had only been
a good boy.
6. But I am sorry to say that like some other
little boys he was fond of tormenting creatures
for mere sport. Some say that it is their nature,
and that they cannot help it. But whether it is
nature or not, little boys can help it, and must
help it. For if they have naughty, low, mischiev-
ous tricks in their nature, as monkeys have, that
TOM THE WATER-BABY. 237
is no reason why they should give way to these
tricks like monkeys, who know no better. And
therefore they must not torment dumb creatures.
And if they do, a certain old lady who is coming
will surely give them exactly what they deserve.
7. Tom did not know that, and he pecked the
poor water things sadly, so that they were all
afraid of him and got out of his way ; and he had
no one to speak to or play with.
8. One day he found a caddis and wanted it to
peep out of its house ; so, what must he do, the
meddlesome little fellow, but pull it open, to see
what the poor lady was doing inside. So Tom
broke to pieces the door, which was the prettiest
little grating of silk, stuck all over with shining
bits of crystal ; and when he looked in the caddis
poked out her head, and it had turned into just
the shape of a bird's. But when Tom spoke, she
could not answer, for her mouth and face were
tied up in a new nightcap of neat pink skin.
9. However, if she did not answer, all the other
caddises did, for they held up their hands and
shrieked, " Oh, you naughty boy ; you are at it
again ! and she had just laid herself up for a fort-
night's sleep, and then she would have come out
with such beautiful wings, and laid such lots of
238 FOURTH READER.
eggs ! Who sent you here to worry us out of our
lives ? "
10. No one had ever taught Tom to be good.
The water-fairies were sorry to see him unhappy,
but they could not help him. He had to learn
for himself. I am glad to say he did begin to
learn. And then the caddises grew quite tame,
and told him the strange story of the way they
built their houses, and changed their skins and
turned into winged flies, till Tom began to long
to change too, and to have wings like them some
day.
The Caddis Fly. — There are three stages of insect life, — the
larva, the pupa, and the imago, or perfect insect. It is in the larval
state that the caddis fly lives in a case formed of bits of shells or
sticks or sand and open at each end.
The Sandpiper is a long-billed bird found on sandy shores in
great flocks.
WORD STUDY.
One of the things to notice in this story is the very easy words
that tell it. Count the monosyllables, that is words of one
syllable, in paragraph 10 and others.
Next find words of two syllables in different paragraphs, and
see if there are any you never saw or heard before.
Three-syllabled words can generally be taken apart; that is,
stripped of prefixes or suffixes. Notice and study those, too, as
you go on.
Example. — Beauti;/M? (beauty) ; mischiev-ows (mischief) ; unr
happy; meddle-sowe.
TOM AND THE LOBSTER. 239
LXII.
val-iant fore-most up-per-most lob-ster
TOM AND THE LOBSTER.
1. One day Tom took a long step toward being
good. He was going about among the rocks near
the shore when he saw a round cage. In it was
his old friend the lobster, looking very much
ashamed.
" I can't get out," said the lobster.
"Where did you get in ? "
" Through that round hole at the top."
2. " Then why not get out through it ? "
" I can't. I have jumped upward, downward^
backward, and sideways at least four thousand
times, and I always come back here underneath
this hole."
" Stop a minute," said Tom ; " turn your tail up
toward me and I will pull you through."
3. But the lobster was clumsy. He was bright
enough as long as he was in open sea, but here he
was very stupid.
Tom reached down till he caught hold of him, but
the clumsy lobster pulled him in head foremost.
4. "This is a pretty business," said Tom ; but
240 FOURTH READER.
just then something swam over the lobster-pot, and
lo, it was the otter.
Tom was frightened. He had not seen the otter
since he told the salmon how to get out of its way,
and he knew it would be angry.
5. The otter squeezed herself down through the
hole in the top, and looked to poor Tom all eyes
and teeth.
But no sooner was her head inside than the
valiant lobster caught her by the nose and held
on tightly.
The three rolled over and over in the pot, and I
do not know what would have happened to Tom
if he had not at last got on the otter's back and
safe out of the hole.
6. He was glad to be safe, but he would not
desert his friend the lobster, and the first time
lie saw his tail uppermost he caught hold of it and
pulled with all his might.
By this time the otter, who cannot live long with-
out coming up to get a fresh breath, was drowned
:ind dead, but the lobster would not let go.
"Come along," said Tom, "or the fisherman
will catch you. Don't you see that she is dead ?"
And so she was, but the lobster would not let go.
7. The fisherman came at last, and Tom saw
TOM AND THE LOBSTER.
241
him haul the lobster up the boat side. But when
Mr. Lobster saw the fisherman he gave a great
snap and came out of the pot safe into the sea.
But he left his claw behind him. It never came
into his stupid head to let go, and Tom found
afterward that all the lobsters would have done
the same thing.
8. I have told this story of the lobster to show
you that there was something noble in our little
Tom.
It was just beginning to wake in his heart, and
whether because of this, I cannot tell, though I
have an opinion about it, there now happened to
Tom a most wonderful thing.
He had not left the lobster five minutes before
he came upon a water-baby. A real live water-
baby sitting upon the white sand. And when it
saw Tom it looked up for a moment, and then
cried, " Why, you are not one of us ! You are a
new baby. Oh, how delightful ! " It ran to Tom,
and Tom ran to it, and they hugged and kissed
each other, they did not know why.
Valiant. —Brave, bold.
The sea-otter. — An animal four
or five feet long. Its food is
fish, and it lives mostly in the
water.
Desert. — Leave, forsake.
242 FOURTH HEADER.
LXIII.
mad-re-pores a-nem-o-nes ri-ot-ous tiand-some
MRS. BE-DONE-BY-AS-YOU-DID.*
1. Still Tom would meddle with the creatures.
He tickled the madrepores to make them shut up,
frightened the crabs to make them hide in the
sand, and put sand in the anemones' mouths to
make them fancy their dinner was coming.
2. The other children warned him, and said,
" Take care what you are at. Mrs. Be-done-by-as-
you-did is coming." But Tom never heeded
them, being riotous with high spirits and good
luck.
3. Mrs. Be-done-by-as-you-did came indeed.
A very tremendous lady she was, and when the
children saw her they stood all in a row, and
smoothed down their bathing dresses, and put
their hands behind them.
She looked at the children one by one, and
seemed pleased with them, though she did not
ask how they were behaving. To each she gave
some sort of nice thing.
4. Little Tom watched till his mouth watered
* Be done by as you did.
MES. BE-DONE-BY-AS-YOU-DID. 243
and his eyes grew as round as an owl's. For the
lady called him, and held out her fingers with
something in them, and popped it into his mouth ;
and lo ! it was a cold, hard pebble.
"You are a very cruel woman," said he, and
began to cry.
"And you are a very cruel boy. Who puts
pebbles into the sea-animals' mouths, to make
them fancy they have caught a good dinner?
As you did to them so I must do to you."
5. " Who told you ? " said Tom.
" You told me yourself this very minute." Tom
had not once opened his lips, so he was very much
taken back by this. " Yes, people tell me exactly
what they have done, and that without knowing
it themselves. Now go and be a good boy. I will
put no more pebbles in your mouth if you put
none in other creatures."
6. " I did not know there was any harm in it,"
said Tom.
" Did you not ? Then you know now. If you
don't know that fire burns, there is no reason it
shouldn't burn you. The lobster did not know
there was harm in getting into the lobster-pot to
get a piece of fish, but it was caught all the
same."
244 FOURTH READER.
"Dear me/' thought Tom, "she knows every-
thing."
7. And so she did indeed. "Well, you are a
little hard upon a poor lad/' said Tom.
" Not at all. I am the best friend you ever had
in your life. But I will tell you ; I cannot help
punishing people when they do wrong; I like it
no more than they do. I am often very sorry for
the poor things."
She looked kindly at him, and such a tender,
quiet, patient, hopeful smile came over her face
that Tom thought for a moment that she did not
look ugly at all.
8. Tom smiled in her face, she looked so pleas-
ant, and the strange fairy smiled, too, and said,
" You thought me very ugly-looking just now, did
you not ? "
Tom hung down his head and grew very red.
9. "And so I am, and I shall be till people be-
have as they ought to do. Then I shall grow as
handsome as my siste'r, who is the loveliest fairy
in the world. Her name is ' Mrs. Do-as-you-would-
be-done-by.' *
"She begins where I end, and I begin where
she ends.
* Do as you would be done by.
RED TOP AKD TIMOTHY.
245
" Those who will not listen to her must listen
to me."
Madrepores and Anemones are
tiny coral-making animals, hav-
ing a round mouth surrounded
with little arms or tentacles for
taking food.
Riotous. — Excited, unruly.
Ugly. — The opposite of beauti-
ful ; so, sometimes, ill-natured.
Heeded. — Minded; paid atten-
tion to.
3>*iC
LXIV.
em-er-ald
ep-au-lets
strut-ting
or-ches-tra
fa-mil-iar
foe-man
scy-the
sheaths
saucy
cam-paign
sol-diers
mor-tal
RED TOP AND TIMOTHY.
Red Top and Timothy
Come here in the spring,
Light spears out of emerald sheaths
Everywhere they spring ;
Harmless little soldiers,
On the field they play,
Nodding plumes and crossing blades
All the livelong day.
Timothy and Red Top
Bring their music band,
246 FOURTH READER.
Some with scarlet epaulets,
Strutting stiff and grand ;
Some in sky-blue jacket,
Some in vests of pink,
Black and white their leader s coat
Restless Bobolink.
Eed Top's airy feathers
Tremble to his notes,
In themselves an orchestra ;
Then a thousand throats
Set the woods a-laughing,
While the saucy thing,
Anywhere on spike or spear,
Sways himself to sing.
Red Top and Timothy
Have a mortal foe ;
There's a giant with a scythe
Comes and lays them low.
Shuts them in barn prisons.
Spares not even Sweet Clover ;
Bobolink leads off his band
Now the campaign's over.
Timothy and Red Top
Will return again.
MRS. DO-AS-YOU-WOULD-BE-DONE-BY.
247
With familiar songs and flowers
Through the April rain.
Though their giant foeman
Will not let them be,
One who swings a keener scythe
Cuts down such as he.
Lucy Larcom's Childhood Songs.
Emerald. — A precious stone of
bright green color; here the
word means bright green.
Epaulet. — An ornamental badge
worn on the shoulder by oflS-
cers in the army or navy.
Orchestra. — A band of musicians.
It means that the song of the
bobolink sounds like many dif-
ferent instruments playing to-
gether.
Familiar songs and flowers are
those which we are accustomed
to hear and see.
Campaign. — The time that an
army keeps the field.
:,'i^c
pad-dling
LXV.
tor-ment as-sure
ten-der-est
MRS. DO-AS-YOU-WOULD-BE-DONE-BY.
1. When Sunday morning came, Mrs. Do-as-you-
would-be-done-by came too. And all the little
children began dancing and clapping their hands,
and Tom clapped his with all his might.
2. As for the pretty lady, I cannot tell you the
248 FOURTH READER.
color of her hair or of her eyes, nor could Tom.
When any one looks at her, all they think of is that
she has the sweetest, kindest, tenderest, funniest,
merriest face they ever saw.
3. The children all caught hold of her and pulled
her till she sat down upon a stone. They climbed
into her lap and clung around her neck, and caught
hold of her hands. Those who could get nowhere
else sat down on the sand at her feet, and Tom
stood staring at them, for he could not understand
it at all.
4. "And who are you, my darling ?" she said.
" Oh, that is the new baby ! " they all cried,
"and he never had a mother to take care of
him."
5. "Then I will be his mother, and he shall
have the very best place ; so go away, all of you,
this very moment."
And she took up two great armfuls of babies, —
nine hundred under one arm and thirteen hun-
dred under the other, — and threw them right
and left into the water. They did not mind it at
all, but came paddling back like so many tad-
poles.
6. She took Tom in her lap, and talked to him
tenderly, such things as he had never heard be-
MRS. DO-AS-YOU-WOULD-BE-DONE-BY. 249
fore in his life, till he fell fast asleep. When he
woke, she was telling the children a story, — a
story that begins every Christmas eve and never
ends at all forever and ever; and the children
listened quite seriously, but not sadly at all, for
she never told them anything sad ; and Tom
listened, too, and never grew tired of listening.
7. He listened so long that he fell asleep, and
when he awoke he was still in her arms.
"Don't go away," said little Tom; "this is
so nice. I never had any one to cuddle me so
before."
"Don't go," said the children, "you haven't
sung us one song."
"What shall it be?" said the fairy; "I have
only time for one."
"The doll you lost! The doll you lost!" cried
all the babies at once.
So the strange fairy sung the song : " I once had
a sweet little doll, dears." Do you remember it ?
"Will you be a good boy for my sake," said
the fairy to Tom, when the time came for her to
go, " and not torment the sea-creatures till I come
back?"
8. " And will you love me and talk to me ? "
said poor little Tom.
250 FOURTH HEADER.
" To be sure I will. I should like to take you
with me, only I must not ; " and away she went.
9. And Tom really tried to be a good boy. He
did not trouble the sea-beasts after that as long as
he lived, and he is quite alive yet, I assure you,
and you will hear more of him.
Adapted from Kingsley's Water Babies.
"Do as you would be done by" is called the Golden Rule.
Here it is in verse for you to learn, —
Deal with another as you'd have
Another deal with you ;
What you're unwilling to receive^
(that is, have done to you.)
Be sure you never do.
(that is, to others.)
3j«<C
LXVI.
shel-ter-ing be-lat-ed croucli-ing bruised
A NIGHT WITH A WOLF.
Little one, come to my knee !
Hark how the rain is pouring
Over the roof, in the pitch-black night,
And the wind in the woods a-roaring !
A NIGHT WITH A WOLF. 251
Hush, my darling, and listen.
Then pay for the story with kisses :
Father was lost in the pitch-black night,
In just such a storm as this is !
High up on the lonely mountains,
Where the wild men watched and waited ;
Wolves in the forest, and bears in the bush,
And I on my path belated.
The rain and the night together
Came down, and the wind came after,
Bending the props of the pine-tree roof.
And snapping many a rafter.
I crept along in the darkness.
Stunned, and bruised, and blinded —
Crept to a fir with thick-set boughs.
And a sheltering rock behind it.
There, from the blowing and raining,
Crouching, I sought to hide me :
Something rustled, two green eyes shone,
And a wolf lay down beside me.
Little one, be not frightened :
I and the wolf together.
252 FOURTH READER.
Side by side, through the long, long night,
Hid from the awful weather.
His wet fur pressed against me;
Each of us warmed the other ;
Each of us felt, in the stormy dark.
That beast and man was brother.
And when the falling forest
No longer crashed in warning,
Each of us went from our hiding-place
Forth in the wild wet morning.
Darling, kiss me in payment !
Hark, how the wind is roaring ;
Father s house is a better place.
When the stormy rain is pouring !
Bayard Taylor
STUDY.
Tell this story in prose, beginning : " One very dark night, when
it . . . just as it does ... I was lost . . .," etc.
What is meant by " beast and man was brother " ? Tell some
way in which they are alike, and also some difference.
The author was a great traveller. He has written books giving
accounts of his travels in nearly every country in the world.
BEN BRIGHTBOOTS. 253
•
T.XVII.
se-date
of-fend-ed sud-den-ly
un-grate-ful
oc-curred
e-lect de-scrip-tion
vic-ar-age
BEN BRIGHTBOOTS. — Part I.
1. Three little children, named Francie, Alfred,
and Alice, had a pet tabby cat. She was quite
small and very playful when she first came to live
with them, and they called her Kitty, a name
which suited her very well at that age. After a
while Kitty grew up out of kittenhood, and be-
came a very sedate and well-behaved cat.
2. When at last she had three little kittens of
her own it did not seem at all right and proper to
call her Kitty any longer, so by general consent
she was called " Mother." It came to be known
to the three little cat-keepers that grandpapa
would very much like to have a kitten, if one
could be found pretty enough, and well-behaved
enough, for the great honor of going to live with
him.
3. The choice lay between Mother's three chil-
dren. One was a tabby like herself, another was
white, and the third was black with a little white.
Everybody was asked which was the prettiest, and
254 FOURTH READER.
everybody said the same. There never was a
prettier kitten than the little black fellow with
four white paws and a little white waistcoat.
4. He was a sturdy little kitten too, and opened
his eyes a whole day before his sisters, and could
mew the loudest of the three ; and, better still,
could purr the loudest. So it was settled that he
was to be grandpapa's kitten as soon as he was
old enough to be sent away from Mother. Next
came the grand question of finding a name for
him.
5. "Let us write and ask grandpapa himself,"
said Francie. " Then he will be sure to like it,
and it would be such a pity if we chose a name he
did not like." So the lines were ruled, and a let-
ter was written containing a full, true, and exact
description of grandpapa's kitten-elect. Grand-
papa answered by return of post, for he knew how
the post-bag would be watched for till his answer
came. " Call him Ben," said the letter, " and ask
auntie to tell you why. If he must have a sur-
name, let him be Ben Brightboots."
6. Francie, who had charge of the letter because
she was the eldest, unfolded it very carefully and
gave it to auntie to read. When auntie had read
it she said: "I will tell you all about it. It is
BEN BRIGHTBOOTS. ' 255
because grandpapa had a beautiful cat several
years ago which was called Ben, and so he would
like to have another of the same name.
7. " ' Ben the First ' was quite black, with very
large fierce eyes, which must have frightened all
the rats and mice most terribly. He was a very
queer-tempered creature. Nothing ever seemed to
disturb him ; he was too proud and grave to hiss
or spit or scratch, but if any one ofEended him, he
would get up very slowly, glare at them with his
splendid great eyes, and walk solemnly away. No
one ever made friends with him.
8. " Once a lady came who always won the heart
of every (fat and kitten she had to do with, and
she tried her very best to win my lord Ben. She
petted and coaxed him and talked to him ; she
practised various ways of stroking his head and
fingering his ears and cheeks which had never
been known to fail with any other cat ; she gave
him the nicest bits of meat, and brought saucers
of milk at times when he had no right to expect a
drop. It was all in vain.
9. " He ate the meat and lapped the milk in a
most ungrateful way, never arching his head or
raising his tail by way of saying thank you.
Never a purr could she get from him with all
256
FOURTH READER.
her kindness and pains, nothing but sulky silence.
He did not even take the trouble to scratch her,
but always behaved as if she were not worthy to
be taken notice of,
good or bad.
10. "He would
sometimes look up if
she called him, but
looked away again
directly, as much as
to say, ' Oh, it's only
you, is it ? I would
not have looked if I
had known.' As for
coming when called,
it never occurred to
him to do such a
thing. He cared for
nobody, and so of
course nobody cared
for him. Yet after
all he was a very lov-
ing cat in his way.
He had given so much love to grandpapa that he
had none to spare for any one else.
11. " At last, one winter we missed him suddenly,
BEN BRIGHTBOOTS.
257
and felt sure something must be wrong, for he
was too sober a cat to have gone holiday-making on
his own account, when his master was at home,
too. Day after day went on, and we could hear
nothing of him. One morning a little boy came
to the vicarage and said, ^Please, sir, your cat's
been killed. Robinson's dog killed her in a min-
ute.' This was sad news ; not that we loved poor
Ben for his own sake, but we cared for anything
that loved grandpapa."
Sedate. — Grave and quiet.
Exact. — Quite correct.
Description. — An account.
Offended him. — Made him an-
gry, displeased him.
Glare. — To gaze or stare angrily.
Solemnly. — Gravely.
Practise. — To do a thing often,
so as to improve.
Kitten-elect. — Chosen kitten.
It never occurred to him. — He
never thought of it.
Vicarage. — The house of a vicar,
or clergyman.
STUDY. — Surnames and Christian Names.
The cat's Christian name was Ben ; his surname, Brightboots.
Tell the two names each of you bears, and whether you have a
single Christian name, or more than one.
Both these are called proper names. They are always to be
written with a capital initial. Boy, girl, and child are common
names ; that is, names you have in common with many others.
Make lists of common names ; that is, names of things, and the
common names for persons and places. Examples : Tree, fence^
town, lion, fly, fish.
And also lists of proper names. Examples : Frank, Saratoga,
Ohio, Rufus Roughwig. See page 163.
258 FOURTH READER.
LXVIII.
vic-to-ry yelp-ing squeak-y sur-prised
ca-tlie-dral sav-age-ly re-treat-ing in-h.ab-i-tant
clois-ter mis-cliief pa-tient-ly low-er-ing
BEN BRIGHTBOOTS.— Part II.
1. "Then we had another cat, and called him
Ben, in memory of the other. He was black, too,
and very handsome indeed, with a splendid tail.
But he had a little white at his throat which
looked like a little pair of bands. So we called
him ' Canon Ben.' Soon after receiving this title,
grandpapa went away from home for a long time,
and Uncle Frank said he would take Canon Ben
home to his rooms by the cathedral, lest he should
be ill-used or lost while we were all away.
2. "There was one inhabitant of the cloisters
who greatly disturbed Ben's peace and comfort,
and would not let him lead the quiet life which
he wished for. This was a large gray parrot who
lived on the other side of the green square round
which the cloisters ran.
3. " On fine days Polly's cage was hung among
the ivy in the arch before her master's door. No
doubt Polly thought this plan a very good one, for
BEN BRIGHTBOOTS. 259
she could see all that went on, and could make
remarks to every one who came to any door in the
cloisters.
4. "And strangers were sometimes very much
surprised to hear a voice screaming to them all
across the square, ' Kub your shoes ! Fine day,
sir ! Very well, thank you ! Rub your shoes ! '
Polly never missed a chance of teasing Canon Ben,
and he never crossed the square without receiving
a greeting of some kind.
5. "No one was told so often to rub his shoes
as he, and he might have got used to rude speeches
of that kind, but Polly was always finding new
ways of vexing him. Sometimes she would mew
like two or three cats at once, and when he came
nearer to see whether he had any fellow-pussies in
distress, she would begin yelping like a very little
puppy. Sometimes she woiild give a soft whistle
just like Uncle Frank's, and when he obeyed it,
like a good cat as he was, and looked about for his
master, she would squeal like a pig, or say, ' Mind
your business ! '
6. " Canon Ben seemed to bear it patiently for
some time, but I am afraid he was planning re-
venge in his heart. One hot August afternoon,
when everything was as still as night, and even
260 FOUKTU READEK.
Polly was quite sleepy, and had not made a single
remark for two hours, Uncle Frank happened to
look out of his little ivy-arched window on the
shady side of the green square, and saw Canon
Ben creeping very slowly close under the wall
towards Polly's cage.
7. "He meant mischief, that was plain, or he
would not have gone in that sly way, crouching
under the ivy, now and then stretching up his
head and then lowering it, but always keeping his
eyes fixed on Polly, who sat half asleep on her
perch, and facing the other way. On he came till
he was close to the arch, which was like a large
window with no glass in it ; and then he crouched
like a little tiger, for a spring on the stone sill
just above the place where the cage hung.
8. " Perhaps Polly heard the rustle of an ivy-
leaf, for all at once she turned round. In an in-
stant she shouted, ' Who are you ? ' so suddenly
and fiercely that Ben stopped, and looked quite
startled. ' Who are you ? ' pealed again like a
very squeaky trumpet through the cloisters. Ben
was not prepared with an answer, and still did not
spring. ' Bow, wow, wow ! ' stormed Polly, bark-
ing savagely and loudly enough to wake all the
dogs in the town, not to mention cats.
BEN BRIGHTBOOTS. 261
9. "Ben showed signs of retreating. Used as
he was to Polly's ways, he could not quite stand
this. Polly saw his weakness and kept it up.
' Bow, wow, wow, wow, wow ! ' There might have
been a whole kennel of dogs behind her. Ben
shook all over, and quickly turned tail and fled,
never stopping till he was safe on the high wall
over the bishop's garden, where he knew no dogs
could reach him.
10. " Polly was so proud of her victory that no
one had a chance of a nap for the rest of that
afternoon, and though no errand-boys and no vis-
itors came, nor any more cats, and she had it all
to herself, she sang, and talked, and whistled, and
barked, till the sun went down behind the cloister
roof, and her arch was left shady and cool. It
was a year before grandpapa was at home again,
and long before that time Canon Ben had become
so settled, that it was thought a pity to take him
away from Uncle Frank.
11. "So grandpapa has been for a long time
without any pussy to love him, and I am very
glad you are going to send Ben Brightboots to
him."
" How soon can he go, auntie ? " asked Alfred.
" He can't go till somebody takes him," said
262
FOURTH READER.
Francie. "He wouldn't be passenger, and he
wouldn't be goods, so he will have to wait till
grandpapa comes again to get him."
Bands. — The white muslin tie
worn in church by a clergy-
man.
Canon, — A clergyman attached
to a cathedral.
Cathedral. — The principal church
of a bishopric.
Cloisters. — A roofed passage in-
side an open square of buildings
belonging to a cathedral. Such
buildings are said to be " in the
cloisters."
Inhabitant. — One who lives in a
place.
Greeting. — A polite speech on
meeting a person.
Crouching. — Stooping down.
Retreating. — Turning back.
D>*iC
•wel-come
LXIX.
fur-row ban-ish night-in-gale
GOOD MORROW.
Pack clouds, away, and welcome, day,
With night we banish sorrow ;
Sweet air blow soft, mount larks aloft,
To give my Love good morrow !
Wings from the wind to please her mind,
Notes from the lark I'll borrow,
Bird, prune thy wing, nightingale, sing.
To give my Love good morrow ;
GOOD MORROW. 263
To give my Love good morrow
Notes from them both I'll borrow c
Wake from thy nest, Robin Redbreast,
Sing, birds, in every furrow ;
And from each hill, let music shrill
Give my fair Love good morrow !
Blackbird and thrush in every bush.
Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow !
You pretty elves, amongst yourselves
Sing my fair Love good morrow ;
To give my Love good morrow
Sing, birds, in every furrow !
T. Heywood.
Good morrow is an old form of I Banish. — To drive away,
salutation or greeting. I Elves. — Fairies.
Read in concert with light, gentle voices.
Find the words that rhyme in the first lines of each couplet
(lines arranged in couples or twos).
Pronounce wind with the vowel long, and thrush somewhat like
bush, to carry out the poet's fancy.
This song was written two hundred and fifty years ago. It is
worth committing to memory.
WORD STUDY.
Select the words that command or ask. They are forms of verbs.
Banish and borrow are verbs expressing action but not command.
264 FOURTH READER.
LXX.
hearth, rug o-ver-set cup-board o-ver-coat
es-cort in-ter-fere up-set-ting reck-on
BEN BRIGHTBOOTS.— Part Ml.
1. Christmas was near, and Aunt Fanny was go-
ing home to grandpapa. So this would be a good
escort for Ben, and the children
made their minds up that it
would be selfish to keep him any
longer, now that he was quite
old enough to leave Mother.
2. When the morning came for his journey, all
the baskets in the house, big and little, were
brought together to see which would do best for
a travelling-carriage. After one had been chosen
just large enough for Ben to lie down in, with a
lid to it, some nice dry hay was put into it, and
then it was set on the hearth-rug wide open, and
Ben was sent for.
3. When he came, he did exactly what they
hoped he would do. He walked straight up to the
basket, and nearly overset it to begin with. Then
he began to paw the handle, and to play with a bit
of hay which hung over the side. Then he stood
BEN BRIGHTBOOTS. 265
on his hind legs, put his fore-paws on the edge and
looked in. Then he drew back, gave a little
spring, and in he went.
4. Out again, with a bit of hay in his mouth,
and then in again, this time upsetting the basket,
which frightened him away for a minute, but he
soon came back again. Francie and Alfred and
Alice watched him all the time, but did not inter-
fere with Kim, except to set the basket up again.
He was getting used to his travelling-carriage so
nicely, that it was better to let him alone.
6. "Next time he gets in," said Francie, "we
will shut the lid down, for it is nearly time for
auntie to start." After a little more play, Ben got
into the basket once more and lay down, and then
Francie and Alfred and Alice all ran up and
stroked him, and put their little faces down into
the basket to give him a good-by kiss, and then
mamma said they had really better shut the lid
down at once, for the carriage was just coming
round to the door. A nice little bit of meat was
given him as a parting present, and then the basket
was closed and tied with a piece of string.
6. They could still see him through the wicker-
work. He was quite happy, and seemed to think
that having the lid shut down made his bed all the
266 FOURTH READER.
more cosey. Alice cried out, " Oh, what a good
contented puss he is ! he has begun to purr quite
loud! Just listen, Francie." And he went on
purring up to the very last.
7. Ben found a great deal to learn in his new
home, and he was always learning something in
his own fashion. Not a cupboard or a drawer
could be opened but he must go and see what was
in it, and watch everything that was done, till it
was shut again. He was most curious about the
washing-up of the tea-things, sitting on the dresser
and taking note of what was done with every cup
and saucer.
8. One evening it occurred to him that he had
never yet fully understood the dining-room lamp.
So he sprang on the table, and walked slowly up
to it, and two or three times round it. Then he
pawed the lower part all round. Then he touched
the little handle by which it was wound up.
9. Then he tried the screw which raised or
lowered the wick. Next he stretched up his neck
and took the edge of the shade in his mouth. It
was not good to eat, but he tried it at two or three
other places, till he was quite sure of the fact.
10. Then he put his head under it, and looked
close at the light, till the pupils of bis eyes shrank
BEN BKIGHTBOOTS.
267
up to a mere little line of black. Finally he put
his nose close to the glass. But he did not reckon
on the glass being hot, and his poor little black
nose must have suffered a good deal, for one touch
was enough! Down he jumped, and never wanted
to know any more about the lamp.
11. One day there had been a great deal of snow,
and a high wind had blown it into deep drifts.
Ben knew nothing yet about snow. He did not
very much like it, still he must go and see for him-
self what all that white stuff might be. He went
out into the garden and peered about, stepping
softly along the oold paths.
12. Presently, for some reason best known to
himself, he made a tremendous spring at what
268
FOURTH READER.
looked like a firm white bank. It was a drift of
fine loose snow, and in he went, quite over his
head, so that for a few moments nothing could be
seen of him. He scrambled out, puzzled and
frightened, and looking as if he had been rolled
in a flour-bin.
13. He shook off his white overcoat as well as he
could, and scampered away into the house as fast
as possible. He had learned quite enough about
snowdrifts, and did not care to study them any
more.
Escort. — A person who protects
another.
Interfere. — To meddle with.
Pupils. — The dark part in the
centre of the eye.
Peered about. — Looked sharply
round him.
Tremendous. — Very great.
White overcoat. — The snow
which clung to him.
Wickerwork. — The plaited twigs
of which the basket was made.
NOTE TO YOUNG READERS.
You see how simple a thing it seems to write a pleasant story,
and yet but a few people would have written so pleasant a one
with these facts for a guide — for the story is a true one. The
secret is in the thoughtful attention and interest in each little
point as it occurred, and the straightforward way of telling it
afterward. Little stories are being made in your own lives that
are well worth telling or writing. Notice that this long story is
made up of many separate short ones.
If you were to begin by telling short ones, trying to do so in
such a way as to give pleasure, you would improve rapidly, and
might soon write well.
BEN BRIGHTBOOTS. 269
LXXI.
thought-ful in-vit-ed in-qui-ries de-ligh.t-ed
com-plete-ly se-ri-ous de-served kitcti-en
BEN BRIGHTBOOTS. — Part IV.
1. All the fun and play came to an end one day.
Grandpapa was taken very ill, and went up stairs
to bed, and the doctor came, and everything was
very sad and gloomy.
2. Ben seemed to understand that something
was wrong, and was perfectly wretched. He ran
up and down stairs like a wild thing -, when he got
to the top he did not seem to know what he had
come for, and tore down again. Then he would
scamper up again, and run to the study, and sit on
the desk and mew. Then he would come down
again, and get into his master's arm-chair in the
dining-room, and turn round and round in it, but
not lie down.
3. Then he went to the stairs again, and sat first
on one step and then on another, in a restless way,
as if no place pleased him. At last he followed
grandma into grandpapa's room. Ah, she would
not send him away then, poor little, loving fellow !
4. He jumped at once on to the bed, and went
270 FOURTH READER.
softly up to grandpapa's hand; and licked it ; then
crept down to the bottom of the bed and lay on
his feet, as if he meant to try and keep them
warm. After that he lay there almost all day,
and never seemed to care to run about and play.
5. Early every morning he came up and sat and
mewed outside the door till he was let in, and then
as quick as lightning he was on the bed, always
going up to grandpapa's head first, and fondling,
and purring, and making curious little bleating
noises, meant to be very kind and thoughtful.
6. It was his way of saying, " Good morning,
dear master, I am so glad the door is opened at
last. I do hope you are better. I wish I could
make you well." Then he would creep down to
keep grandpapa's feet warm.
7. After many days and nights of pain, grand-
papa began to get better, and come down stairs.
Ben was delighted to see him in his right place
again, the arm-chair by the fire, and did everything
he could to show it, purring, and arching his back,
and setting his tail straight up, and rubbing round
and round grandpapa's legs, and the legs of the
chair too.
8. Now who could help loving such a cat as Ben
Brightboots? Grandpapa loved him more than
BEN BRIGHTBOOTS. 271
ever, and so did auntie ; as for grandma, she would
have let him roll over her ribbons and eat up her
lace, if he pleased, he had so completely won her
heart. The servants liked him, and petted him,
so he was as well off as any cat in the kingdom.
But he deserved it all, if a cat ever did !
9. One morning he did not come in to prayers as
usual, and breakfast was had without him, too.
" Foolish fellow, not to come for his milk ! " said
grandpapa; "where can he be?" The bell was
rung, and the servant was asked if Ben was in the
kitchen. No, she had not seen him anyw^here.
"Very likely he is in your study," said auntie;
" I'll go and see."
10. But Ben was not there. Nor in grandpapa's
bedroom, nor in any other room in the house. It
might be that he had been invited to cold rat by
some new friend of his own kind, and would be
home to dinner. But dinner-time came, and no
Ben; and tea-time came, and no Ben; and bed-
time came, and still no Ben. It was quite serious;
something must have happened, for Ben would never
have stayed away all day of his own free will.
11. Next day inquiries were made among all the
neighbors, but no one had seen or heard anything
of him. The next day a boy was set to look.
272
FOURTH EEADER.
He was to go to every house round about, and ask
if any one had seen a very pretty young black
cat with four white feet. The boy came back in
the evening for the shilling, which was to have
been two if he had found Ben, with nothing to tell
except that " Nobody hadn't heard nothing of no
black cat with four white feet."
12. Day after day went on, and hope became
fainter. At last grandpapa wrote to tell Francie
and Alfred and Alice of his sad loss, his pretty Ben
Brightboots, whom they had nursed up for him, and
sent to him, and who was now lost, perhaps dead.
13. It was not a very cheerful breakfast after
that letter came out of the post-bag. The three
children went to Mother as soon as breakfast was
over, and told her all about it, and stroked and
petted and pitied her. At all this attention,
Mother was much pleased, and purred as merrily
as if not a word had been said, and her son had
been still safe in grandpapa's keeping.
Gloomy. — Dull, sad.
Arching his back. — Raising it
into an arch.
Completely. — Entirely.
Won her heart. — Gained her
love.
Inquiries. — Questions asked.
Deserved. — Was worthy of.
Correct the statement of the boy who was to search.
WINTER RAIN. 273
i;xxiL
WINTER RAIN.
Every valley drinks,
Every dell and hollow ;
Where the kind rain sinks and sinks
Green of Spring will follow.
Yet a lapse of weeks
Buds will burst their edges,
Strip their wool-coats, glue-coats, streaks,
In the woods and hedges ;
Weave a bower of love
For birds to meet each other,
Weave a canopy above
Nest and egg and mother.
But for fattening rain
We should have no flowers,
Never a bud or leaf again
But for soaking showers ;
Never a mated bird
In the rocking tree-tops.
274
FOURTH READER.
Never indeed a flock or herd
To graze upon the lea-crops.
Lambs so woolly white,
Sheep the sun-bright leas on,
They could have no grass to bite
But for rain in season.
We should find no moss
In the shadiest places,
Find no waving meadow grass
Pied with broad-eyed daisies.
But miles of barren sand,
With never a son or daughter,
Not a lily on the land,
Or lily on the water.
Christina G. Rossetti.
Lapse. — Passing away, as time
passes, without our notice.
Pied. — Spotted.
Leas. — Meadows or fields of
grass land.
STUDY.
The use and value of winter snow in the parts of the country
where it falls. Quote a verse from " How the Leaves came Down,"
suggesting a use of snow. Tell what people would miss if it did
not fall.
BEN BRIGHTBOOTS. 276
LXXIII.
re-mem-ber-ing mis-cliiev-ous peace-a-ble mem-o-ries
gen-e-ral-ly pos-ses-sion -waist-coat fon-dled
BEN BRIGHTBOOTS. — Part V. -^
1. I am glad that this is not the very end of the^
story of Ben Brightboots. It is so much nicer to
have a pleasant ending than a sad one ; and all the
more so, because this little story is really true, and
not all make-up.
2. For some time, grandpapa and grandma and
auntie watched and hoped. Not long after Ben
was lost, a great mewing was heard one evening.
It seemed to come from the other side of the road.
But when the door was opened, and auntie called
" Ben, Ben ! " it suddenly stopped.
3. Next night it was heard again, but the same
thing happened. And then it was found that it
was only some mischievous boys mewing like a cat,
perhaps because they knew of the inquiries which
had been made. When this false alarm was over,
there seemed to be nothing to do but to give up
hope. Poor, dear Ben !
4. A whole year passed away, and never a word
was heard of him. Before it was over, the ser-
V
276 FOUKTH READER.
vants who knew him had both gone away, and
new ones were come. One day Mary came to
grandma, and said : " If you please, ma'am, there's
such a pretty cat sitting on the drawing-room win-
dow-sill. He was mewing there at seven o'clock
this morning. He came after me into the kitchen,
and we gave him some milk, and then he went
back again and sat on the window, and he's been
there ever since."
5. "I thought I heard a cat mewing," said
grandma. " What is he like ? " " He's nearly all
black," answered Mary ; " and he has white paws,
and keeps lifting them up and down." "Bring,
him in, and let me look at him," said grandma.
6. So Mary brought the cat, and put him down
in the hall. Could it possibly be Ben? There
was the black coat, and the white waistcoat, and
the four pretty white boots. Only this was a full-
grown cat, and when Ben went away he was not
nearly full-grown, but of course he would be so by
this time, if he were alive. So grandma called
grandpapa, and he came down, and auntie heard
something going on about a cat, and came too.
7. As soon as grandpapa appeared the cat went
up to him, and began rubbing round his legs, and
doing everything a cat could do to show that he
BEN BKIGHTBOOTS. 277
was no stranger. They all went into the dining-
room, and said, " Let us see what the cat will do."
He followed them in, and went on rubbing round
grandpapa, now and then turning away to rub
against grandma's and auntie's dresses, walking
from one to the other, as if he were quite at home,
and knew the room and the persons quite well.
8. "It must be Ben," said auntie. "It can't be
Ben," said grandma. "I never in all my life
heard or read of a cat remembering in this way
for such a length of time," said grandpapa; "and
yet I do believe it is Ben. See, he does just as
Ben used to do."
9. He sat down in the arm-chair. Up jumped
the cat and sat on his knee, lifting up first one
little paw and then the other. " Look, look ! "
said auntie, "that proves it must be Ben. That
is exactly how he always lifted up his little feet,
and I never s.aw any other cat do it in just the
same way."
10. Then grandpapa got up, and went up stairs.
The cat followed him, and when they reached the
top it darted on before, and ran straight to grand-
papa's room, passing all the other doors. Was it
likely a strange cat would have done that ? " But,"
said grandma, "is it likely that a cat could re-
278 FOURTH READER,
member everything for a whole year ? " Certainly
not, for cats have not generally very good memo-
ries.
11. But it was still less likely that a strange cat
would be so very loving to the right person all at
once, and know its way about the house, and do
every single thing just as Ben used to do, and
seem so very much delighted with everybody and
everything, besides having the white boots and
v/hite waistcoat, which could not have been begged,
borrowed, or stolen. So at last they all gave up
saying "It must be Ben," and said "It is Ben."
12. Ben was so happy that he hardly sat down
all that day, but kept walking about, fondling
every one and expecting to be fondled in return.
"Pretty Ben ! " said grandma ; " you want to tell
us where you have been all this time. Speak to
us, Ben ! Were they kind to you, Ben ? "
13. It was a comfort that his ^good looks an-
swered that question. Wherever he had been he
must have been well treated, for he was plump and
strong, and his fur was beautifully smooth and
glossy. He had not been starved at any rate.
14. Mary was told that any one who came to in-
quire after him was to be asked in, so that we
might explain how it was. But no one ever came.
FRIQUET AND FRIQUETTE. 279
SO grandpapa was left in peaceable possession of
his cat.
F. R. Havergal {abridged and adapted).
Glossy. — Shining. I kept his cat without being troubled
In peaceable possession, i.e., he 1 any more. '
^l^ic
LXXIV.
op-por-tu-ni-ty shrewd as-ton-ish.ed pre-ten-sions
priv-i-leg-es la-belled par-ti-tioned ad-van-tage
FRIQUET AND FRIQUETTE.*— Part I.
1. Friquet loved his sister dearly, but he knew
no greater pleasure than that of teasing her. Fri-
quette also loved her brother, but she never let
slip an opportunity of playing a trick on him.
This was the cause of pouting, tears, fits of anger,
and, I am ashamed to say, even blows and
scratches.
2. I must tell you the cause of all these disputes.
Master Friquet was proud of being a man. He
fancied that, because of this high position, a little
girl had no right to oppose him. Friquette, on
*Frefc'a and Frilc^t',
280 FOUKTH EEADER.
her side, had heard it said that gentlemen should
always give way to ladies. So, being a lady, she
claimed her privileges. It was, of course, difficult
for two such opposite pretensions to exist side by
side ; and the brother and sister, while really loving
each other at heart, lived like cat and dog.
3. Friquet was a stout boy, with great fists, and
the strength was on his side. Friquette was a
little girl, delicate, shrewd and cunning, who
always had the advantage through her wit, of
which she had enough and to spare. I will not
tell you all their naughty ways and tricks. Un-
kindness between brother and sister is something
so sad, that I should take no pleasure in telling, or
you in hearing it.
4. You must know, however, that one spring
morning when the children were in the garden
with their mamma, the thought struck Friquette
to ask for a bit of ground, that she might make a
garden of her own.
This being given her, Friquet insisted on having
one too, not because he had a great desire for it,
but in order not to have less than his sister.
5. Scarcely had the gardens been partitioned off
before he ran to the gardener's lodge, where some
light tools were kept for the use of his grandpapa,
FRIQUET AND FEIQUETTE. 281
who sometimes worked in the flower-beds. A little
spade, a little hoe, a little rake, even to a little
pointed dibble, which his grandpapa used to put
tulips into the earth — in the twinkling of an eye,
he took possession of the whole, and laying his
booty upon the ground, would not allow Friquette
to come near it.
6. It was in vain for Friquette to beg ; and when
she succeeded in seizing one of the tools, he
snatched it rudely from her hands.
Their mamma, who had been sent for to see a
visitor, had left the garden, and the little girl was
compelled to drag painfully to her garden, a great
spade, almost as heavy as herself, with which she
tried, as well as she could, to turn up the ground.
All the while she was planning to revenge herself.
Meanwhile, Friquet, fully provided with all he
needed, spaded, raked, and prepared a beautiful
bed, and began already to talk about planting
it.
7, "I will go for the seeds," said Friquette,
springing quickly to go to the house, and leaving
Friquet astonished at her obliging act.
The child always listened to what was said in
her presence, and remembered all that she heard.
Now one day she heard her father say that seeds
282
FOURTH READER.
exposed to too great heat lose the power of taking
root, and are of no more use than pebbles.
8. She ran to the drawer where the seeds were
kept; took what she wanted, and returned with
several packages neatly tied and labelled, which she
gave to Friquet. She did not tell him, that before
returning to the garden she had gone to the
kitchen, which had happened to be empty, and
had left the packages for five minutes in the oven,
side by side with the meat that had been roasting
for dinner. They were a little scorched, indeed,
but he did not observe it.
9. "Thank you," said Friquet, who wished to
return her politeness. "Don't you want me to
plant some in your garden ?"
" Oh, no, it is not ready yet, and this spade tires
me too much. I have had enough of gardening
for to-day." Saying this, she returned to the
house to laugh at her ease, while Friquet carefully
planted his seeds, which he was sure would grow
well, planted in a garden so well prepared.
Let slip an opportunity. — Al-
low an occasion to pass.
Advantage. — Benefit; superior
place or state.
Pretension^. — Claims; assumed
rights.
Partitioned. — Parted, as by walls
or bounds.
Shrewd. — Artful; quick to see a
weakness in another and a gain
for one's self.
Astonished. — Surprised, amazed.
MABEL ON A MIDSUMMEK DAY. 283
LXXV.
lone-some fag-ots live-long yes-ter-noon
MABEL ON A MIDSUMMER DAY.— Part I.
Arise, my maiden, Mabel,
The mother said, arise.
For the golden sun of midsummer
Is shining in the skies.
Arise, my little maiden,
For thou must speed away
To wait upon thy grandmother
This livelong summer day.
And thou must carry with thee
This wheaten cake so fine,
This new-made pot of butter.
This little flask of wine.
And tell the dear old body,
This day I cannot come ;
For the good man went out yesternoon,
And he is not come home.
And more than this, poor Amy,
Upon my knee doth lie ;
284 FOURTH READER.
I fear me with this fever pain
The little child will die.
And thou canst help thy grandmother ;
The table thou canst spread ;
Canst feed the little dog and bird,
And thou canst make her bed.
And thou canst fetch the water
From the lady-well, hard by ;
And thou canst gather from the wood
The fagots brown and dry.
Canst go down to the lonesome glen
To milk the mother ewe ;
This is the work, my Mabel,
That thou wilt have to do.
But listen now, my Mabel,
This is Midsummer day,
When all the fairy people
From Elf-land come away.
And when thou'rt in the lonesome glen.
Keep by the running burn ;
And do not pluck the strawberry flower.
Nor break the lady-fern.
MABEL ON A MIDSUMMER DAY. 285
But think not of the fairy-folk,
Lest mischief should befall ;
Think only of poor Amy
And how thou lov'st us all.
Yet keep good heart, my Mabel,
If thou the fairies see ;
And give them kindly answer,
If they should speak to thee.
And when into the fir-wood
Thou goest for fagots brown,
Do not, like other children.
Go wandering up and down, —
But fill thy little apron,
My child, with earnest speed ;
And that thou break no living bough
Within the wood, take heed.
For they are spiteful brownies,
Who in the wood abide ;
So be thou careful of this thing
Lest evil should betide.
But think not, little Mabel,
Whilst thou art in the wood,
286
FOURTH READER.
Of dwarfish wilful brownies,
But of the Father good. -
And when thou goest to the spring
To fetch the water thence,
Do not disturb the little stream
Lest thou should give offence.
For the Queen of all the Fairies,
She loves that water bright ;
I've seen her drinking there myself,
On many a summer night.
But she's a gracious lady,
And her thou need'st not fear ;
Only disturb thou not the stream,
Nor spill the water clear.
Now all this will I heed. Mother,
Will no word disobey.
And wait upon the grandmother
This livelong summer day.
Fagots. — A bundle of sticks or
twigs.
Befall. I To happen, or come to
Betide. > pass.
Ewe. — A female sheep.
Abide. — To live, or remain in
place.
Give offence. — Displease.
FRIQUET AND FRIQUETTE. 287
LXXVI.
con-fi-dant tli-wart-ed cal-cu-la-tion cul-prit
re-bel-lious va-ri-e-ty cel-e-bra-ted re-proaclied
FRIQUET AND FRIQUETTE. — Part II.
1. Friquette had a beautiful doll, the confidant
of all her joys and sorrows, a model friend that
never thwarted her, that remained where she was
placed, and that always listened to what she said.
It is not worth the trouble of playing a trick, if
you have not some one to whom to tell it. As
soon as she reached the house, Friquette took her
doll in her arms, and in order not to be disturbed,
carried her to an upper chamber where the linen
was kept, and told her the story of the garden.
2. Meanwhile, Friquet buried all his precious
seeds in the ground. Nothing remained for him
but to wait for the flowers, and beginning to find
it dull to be alone, he wanted his sister to join him
in some other play.
There was not much variety in their amuse-
ments. Sometimes they played horse, but it was
naturally he that held the whip. Sometimes they
played robber, and again it was naturally he that
took the part of the policeman. If they under-
288 FOURTH READER.
took a game of hide and seek, it did not last long,
for he always insisted upon being the one to hide.
So when she heard her brother calling Friquette !
Friquette ! all over the house, she did not stir, but
quietly continued her conversation with her be-
loved doll.
3. The young gardener finally found his way to
the linen-room, and great was his wrath to think
his sister preferred the company of a doll to the
honor of playing with him. He sprang upon his
little rival, and ran with it around the room, wav-
ing it over his head.
4. But this was a subject on which Friquette
would bear no jesting. She was like a lioness
whose young are attacked ; she chased the robber
round the room, trying to frighten him with her
screams, and threatening him with her sharp nails.
Friquet, on his side, was as nimble as a monkey.
He leaped upon a table that stood against the
linen-press, drew a chair toward him, and in less
time than it takes to tell the story, stood on the
top of the press, uttering a cry of victory, and
rubbing the doll's nose against the ceiling.
5. Friquette was beside herself, but she did not
lose her presence of mind. In the twinkling of an
eye she carried off the chair, pushed away the
FRIQUET AND FRlQtTETTE. 289
table, and behold ! Friquet was left a prisoner on
his perch, in close company with the ceiling, and
unable to escape.
Seeing him at her mercy, Friquette bitterly re-
proached him for his conduct, and, in the warmth
of her discourse, somehow let slip the fatal secret,
which reduced all his gardening hopes to nothing-
ness.
6. She had at first intended to keep this to her-
self, in order to see him look for flowers every day,
and carefully gather out the weeds that might in-
jure them ; but the anger of little girls is apt to
sweep away all calculation, however well laid it
may be.
Friquet foamed with rage on learning the dread-
ful truth, but his enemy quitted the room, leaving
him to his fate.
7. He soon gained his freedom, for he set up such
a hubbub with screaming, and kicking the sides of
the linen-press, that his mamma ran to him in
fright, followed by the good lady who was vis-
iting her, and who thought some terrible thing
must have happened.
They both burst out laughing on seeing the
bird on his perch, but by means of a step-ladder
soon set him at liberty.
290 FOURTH READER.
" What were you doing up there, my poor Fri-
quet ? " asked the old lady.
8. The child tried to speak, but shame and an-
ger choked his voice. His mother took him on
her lap, and tried to soothe him with gentle words ;
but he refused to speak, and ground his teeth
silently with rage.
" I see that we must bring Miss Friquette,'' said
the lady, and she set out in search of the culprit.
9. This lady was none other than the celebrated
fairy, Blanchette, so called because her hair had
grown white at a very early age.
The fairy possessed the gift of being able to
reform naughty children. She saw at a glance
all the evil, and they knew not how to resist her
eye. It must be said also, that she loved them
with all her heart, and this gave her a great
advantage, for the most rebellious child suffers
himself to be ruled by a firm will, when he feels
there is love behind it. And beside, Blanchette
was a fairy, which explains everything.
10. She soon appeared, holding the little girl by
the hand, and set her face to face with her brother,
whom she did not approach without fear.
"What have you been doing?" asked the fairy
in a harsh voice.
FRIQUET AND FRIQUETTE,
291
" He took my doll and spoiled it."
"No/' cried Friquet, suddenly finding his
tongue; "she roasted the seeds in the oven,
and then gave them to me to plant, so that
nothing might grow in my garden."
" Why did you take all the tools, and rub the
skin off my hand in snatching the spade from
me?"
11. And the two glared at each other, looking
like two cocks ready to fight.
The fairy took the little boy, and held him in the
air as high as her arm could reach. Then she
raised the little girl from the ground in the same
manner, looking at them tenderly, after which she
placed them both in their mamma's lap, and kissed
her forehead.
"Farewell," she said, "be of good cheer; you
will see me again in a year from this time."
Confidant. — One to whom secrets
are told.
Culprit. — A person accused of
crime.
Thwarted. — Opposed, defeated,
crossed.
Beside herself. — Out of her wits,
or senses.
Rebellious. — The opposite of
obedient; in opposition to au-
thority.
Calculation. — Intention, plan,
purpose.
292 FOURTH READER.
LXXVII.
courte-sy troub-led neigh.-bor-ing a-lert
re-frain rais-cliief stead-i-ly de-mure
MABEL ON A MIDSUMMER DAY. — Part II
Away tripped little Mabel,
With the wheaten cake so fine,
With the new-made pot of butter,
And the little flask of wine.
And long before the sun was hot,
And the summer mist had cleared,
Beside the good old grandmother
The willing child appeared.
And all her mother's message
She told with right good will ;
How that the father was away,
And the little child was ill.
And then she swept the hearth up clean.
And then the table spread ;
And next she fed the dog and bird.
And then she made the bed.
" And go now," said the grandmother,
" Ten paces down the dell.
MABEL ON A MIDSUMMER DAY. 293
And bring in water for the day ;
Thou know'st the lady-well."
The first time that good Mabel went,
Nothing at all saw she,
Ejicept a bird, a sky-blue bird
That sat upon a tree.
The next time that good Mabel went,
There sat a lady bright
Beside the well — a lady small,
All clothed in green and white.
A courtesy low made Mabel,
And then she stopped to fill
Her pitcher at the sparkling brook,
But no drop did she spill.
"Thou art a handy maiden,"
The fairy lady said ;
" Thou hast not spilled a drop, nor yet
The fair spring troubled.
" And for this thing which thou hast done,
Yet may'st not understand,
I give to thee a better gift
Than houses or than land.
294 FOURTH READER.
" Thou shalt do well whate'er thou dost,
As thou hast done this day,
Shalt have the will and power to please,
And shalt be loved alway."
Thus having said she passed from sight,
And nought could Mabel see,
But the little bird, the sky-blue bird,
Upon the leafy tree.
"And now go," said the grandmother,
" And fetch in fagots dry.
All in the neighboring fir-wood,
Beneath the trees they lie."
Away went kind, good Mabel
Into the fir-wood near.
Where all the ground was dry and brown,
And the grass grown thin and sear.
She did not wander up and down.
Nor yet a live branch pull.
But steadily of the fallen boughs
She filled her apron full.
And when the wild wood-brownies "
Came sliding to her mind,
MABEL ON A MIDSUMMER DAY. 295
She drove them thence^ as she was told,
With home thoughts, sweet and kind.
But all the while the brownies
Within the fir-wood still.
They watched her, how she picked the wood,
And strove to do no ill.
" And oh, but she is small and neat,"
Said one ; " 'twere shame to spite
A creature so demure and meek,
A creature harmless quite." ^
" Look only," said another,
" At her little gown of blue ;
At her kerchief pinned about her head,
And at her little shoe ! "
" Oh, but she is a comely child,"
Said a third ; " and we will lay
A good-luck penny in her path,
A boon for her this day, —
Seeing she broke no living wood,
No live thing did affray ! "
With that the smallest penny.
Of the finest silver ore,
296 FOURTH READER.
Upon the dry and slippery path,
Lay Mabel's feet before.
With joy she picked the penny up,
The fairy penny good.
And with her fagots dry and brown,
Went wandering from the wood.
"Now she has that," said the brownies,
" Let flax be ever so dear,
'Twill buy her clothes of the very best
Fq^ many and many a year ! "
" And go now," said the grandmother,
" Since falling is the dew.
Go down into the lonesome glen,
And milk the mother-ewe ! "
All down into the lonsome glen.
Through copses thick and wild.
Through moist, rank grass, by trickling stream,
Went on the willing child.
And when she came to the lonesome glen,
She kept beside the burn,
And neither plucked the strawberry-flower,
Nor broke the lady-fern.
MABEL ON A MIDSUMMER DAY. 297
And while she milked the mother-ewe,
Within this lonesome glen,
She wished that little Amy
Were strong and well again.
And soon as she had thought this thought,
She heard a coming sound,
As if a thousand fairy folk
Were gathering all around.
And then she heard a little voice.
Shrill as the midge's wing,
That spoke aloud, " A human child
Is here : yet mark this thing,
" The lady fern is all unbroke.
The strawberry flower unta'en ;
What shall be done for her who still
From mischief can refrain ? "
" Give her a fairy cake," said one ;
" Grant her a wish," said three ;
" The latest wish that she hath wished,"
Said all, " whate'er it be."
Kind Mabel heard the words they spoke,
And from the lonesome glen.
298
FOURTH READER.
Unto the good old grandmother
Went gladly back again.
Thus happened it to Mabel,
On that midsummer day,
And these three fairy blessings
She took with her away.
'Tis good to make all duty sweet,
To be alert and kind.
'Tis good, Hke little Mabel,
To have a willing mind.
Mary Howitt.
Paces. — Steps in walking.
Unta'en. — Not taken.
Refrain. — To keep one's self back
from doing.
Alert. — Active, lively.
Demure. — Modest, sober.
Midge. — A very delicate fly.
Comely. — Fair, graceful.
Handy. — Skilful with the hand.
Boon. — A gift.
tai.es out of school.
What do you think we wrote at school to-day, mamma ?
I can't think, unless you give me some clew to it. Suppose you
tell me.
It was ways for a boy or girl to show courtesy or politeness.
Miss M. asked us about them, and when they had all been talked
over we wrote sentences. There were some ways that I never knew
before.
Was it politeness to playmates or to older people ?
It was to older people this time ; but we are going to have a
lesson on our ways to each other.
Tell me now some of the ways you talked about,
FRIQUET AND FRIQUETTE. 299
LXXVIII.
us-u-al se-ver-i-ty ex-per-i-ment phys-i-ol-o-gy
jus-ti-fy con-fess-ion men-tioned veg-e-ta-ble
ac-cus-ing con-sult-ed self-de-ni-al ex-plan-a-tion
FRIQUET AND FRIQUETTE. — Part III.
1. As the fairy Blanche tte left the room, she
turned toward the children, and said, " Above all
things, I forbid you to tell a word of it to any
one."
Tell what ? You would never guess.
Friquet looked at himself ; he had on a little
dress and an apron trimmed with ribbons, and
golden curls were floating over his shoulders.
2. Friquette, for her part, had on a blouse, con-
fined by a belt, and a pair of trousers ; and, on
putting her hand to her head, she found, her
cropped hair covered with a cap.
A glance into the mirror at the end of the
room revealed the change. Friquet had become
the little girl, and Friquette the little boy. The
former opened and closed his hands, which had
become small and delicate, and, finding he had lost
his usual strength, he was humbled. The latter
felt her brain grown duller, and was not less
300 rOUBTH READER.
humbled at the loss of her usual quickness of
thought.
3. Seized with despair, they threw themselves
into each other's arms, embracing the image of
what each had been, but now was not ; while
the poor mother hoped for happier things, seeing
that the fairy's charm was already beginning to
take effect upon them. Without asking for an
explanation of this happy change, she covered
them with caresses, which timidly they returned.
4. In the meantime their papa came home to
dine. He was a great scholar, who was consulted
on difficult questions by people for miles around.
He might have been taken for an ill-tempered
man, had he not had a heart of gold, which gave
his face an expression of goodness to those who
knew how to read it.
5. When the good man returned at evening, his
head tired with questions, the thought of the
merry little faces at home made his heart warm.
It again took the lead of his head, and he reached
the door with a smiling face, eager to forget the
work of the day. But if, on entering, as so often
happened, he found sullen faces and swollen eyes,
he spoke in his gruffest tones, and began to ques-
tion the children with the utmost severity.
FRIQUET AND FEIQUETTE. 301
6. " Well/' he said, throwing himself in his
chair, on seeing that something unusual had hap-
pened, " what is the matter now ? "
" Friquet has been naughty," said the little hoy,
" No, no ! Friquette has been bad," said the
little girl.
They had forgotten, at the sight of their father,
that they had changed places, and each one has-
tened to excuse the former tenant. This was a
new thing for the father. He was not accustomed
to such self-denial.
7. " Well, well," he said, " you are good chil-
dren to accuse yourselves. Come, my darlings,
tell me the whole story," and he took them both
upon his knees.
Friquette, a boy, and Friquet, a girl, reflected in
the meantime what they should do. They were
forbidden to tell the real truth ; and, moreover,
who would have believed them ?
8. They could not justify their former selves
without accusing their present ones, and the
accusing cry, which had been spoken by each at
sight of their father, was so well received as a con-
fession that they were encouraged to continue it.
Friquet, who had most quickness of thought since
he had become the little girl, was the first to de-
302 FOURTH READER.
cide what course to take. He told how the boy
had abused his strength in the garden, and run
away with the doll in the linen-room, but he took
good care not to dwell on the worst features. He
even mentioned some things in excuse.
9. It was really touching for those who did not
know the secret of the farce, to see the sister show
so much caution in blaming the brother, and the
father, wonder-struck, embraced them both.
Then came Friquette's turn. As the little boy,
her tongue was less ready than usual, yet she did
quite well. In her gentlest voice, she told the
story of the seeds, with her eyes cast down, and
on looking to see if her papa was very angry, to
her surprise, she saw him smiling with delight.
10. " What, you little monkey, do you know
that ? How did you find it out ? Do you hear,
my dear ? Here is a child six years old, learning
vegetable physiology all by herself."
" I know nothing about vegetable physiology,
but I know that, at least, ten cents' worth of good
seed has been wasted."
11. " No matter ; we will buy some more. And,
since you know so much, will you tell me how
many degrees of heat were needed to make your
experiment succeed ? "
FRIQUET AND FRIQUETTE. 303
This, Friquet did not know. He had gained all
his sister's wit, but not all that was stored in her
memory.
^' See/' he said, '^ you have frightened the poor
child. I am sure she knows."
" Friquette had heard that it needed two hun-
dred and twelve degrees," said the little boy.
12. " Do you hear ? " said their papa ; " they
both know. You are two darling children ; let
me kiss you."
Never was there a happier father, and no more
was said about the quarrels of the day.
By degrees, Friquet and Friquette grew familiar
with their new positions. The next morning their
parents' eyes filled with tears of joy, to see their
boy digging up Friquette's piece of ground, and
their little girl bending over Friquet' s bed, care-
fully planting new seeds.
13. And what was begun through selfishness
soon became so pleasant that they continued it
through kindness.
The boy employed his strength for his sister,
and the girl her wit for her brother, and each was
as happy in the doing as in the receiving. They
forgot which was Friquet and which "Friquette,
and when the fairy Blanchette came at the end of
304
FOURTH READER.
the year to set things straight again, neither
seemed to care for it, for they had but one heart
between them.
14. The mother told the good fairy what joy
they had in their children, and what a paradise
was their home.
" But what was it," she said, " that you did
when you raised them from the ground ? "
" I taught them to live in each other's lives, and
place their happiness outside themselves in being
kind to others. It is not difficult. Every one can
do the same." Jean Mace.
Copyright, 1867, hy Harper & Brothers.
Was consulted. — ; His advice
was sought, or his knowledge
questioned.
Experiment. — Act performed to
discover or test some truth.
Paradise. — A blessed place.
Explanation. — A description, or
statement, given to make a thing
clear.
Vegetable. — Belonging to plant-
Ufe.
Physiology. — The science of life
in animals and plants.
Severity. — Harshness, sternness.
READING REVIEW. — For Expression.
Practise upon the following selected paragraphs : —
Lesson LXII., paragraphs 1, 2, 3.
" LXIIL,
LXVII.,
4, 5, 6.
8, 9, 10
LXXIIL,
((
5-12.
LXXIV.,
((
2,3.
« LXXVI.,
u
10, 11.
THE FAIRIES OF CALDON LOW. 305
LXXIX.
le-gend or leg-end mil-dew d-wind-ling Cal-don
THE FAIRIES OF CALDON LOW.
[a midsummer legend.]
"And where have you been, my Mary,
And where have you been from me ? " —
" I have been to the top of the Caldon Low,
The midsummer night to see ! "
" And what did you see, my Mary,
All up on the Caldon Low ? " —
" I saw the glad sunshine come down.
And I saw the merry winds blow."
" And what did you hear, my Mary,
All up on the Caldon hill ?" —
" I heard the drops of the water made.
And the ears of the green corn fill."
" ! tell me all, my Mary —
All, all that ever you know ;
For you must have seen the fairies
Last night on the Caldon Low."
" Then take me on your knee, mother ;
And listen, mother of mine :
306 FOURTH READER.
A hundred fairies danced last night,
And the harpers they were nine ;
"And their harp-strings rung so merrily
To their dancing feet so small ;
But oh ! the words of their talking
Were merrier far than all."
" And what were the words, my Mary,
That then you heard them say ? " —
" I'll tell you all, my mother ;
But let me have my way.
" Some of them played with the water,
And rolled it down the hill ;
' And this,' they said, ' shall speedily turn
The poor old miller's mill ;
" ' For there has been no water
Ever since the first of May ;
And a busy man will the miller be
At dawning of the day.
" ^ Oh ! the miller, how he will laugh
When he sees the mill-dam rise !
The jolly old miller, how he will laugh
Till the tears fill both his eyes ! '
THE FAIKIES OF CALDON LOW. 307
*^ And some they seized the little winds
That sounded over the hill ;
And each put a horn into his mouth,
And blew both loud and shrill :
" ^ And there/ they said, ' the merry
winds go
Away from every horn ;
And they shall clear the mildew dank
From the blind old widow's corn.
" ' Oh ! the poor blind widow,
Though she has been blind so long,
She'll be blithe enough when the mil-
dew's gone
And the corn stands tall and strong.'
"And some they brought the brown lint-
seed.
And flung it down from the Low ;
^ And this,' they said, ' by the sunrise,
In the weaver's croft shall grow.
" ^ Oh ! the poor, lame weaver.
How will he laugh outright
When he sees his dwindling flax-field
All full of flowers by night ! '
308 FOURTH READER.
" And then outspoke a brownie.
With a long beard on his chin ;
^I have spun up all the tow/ said he,
^ And I want some more to spin.
" ^ I've spun a piece of hempen cloth,
And I want to spin another ;
A little sheet for Mary's bed,
And an apron for her mother.'
'' With that I could not help but laugh,
And I laughed out loud and free ;
And then on the top of the Caldon Low
There was no one left but me.
" And all on the top of the Caldon Low
The mists were cold and gray ;
And nothing I saw but the mossy stones,
That round about me lay.
" But coming down from the hill-top,
I heard afar below
How busy the jolly miller was,
And how the wheel did go.
" And I peeped into the widow's field.
And, sure enough, were seen
THE FAIRIES OF CALDON LOW.
309
The yellow ears of the mildewed corn,
All standing stout and green.
"And down by the weaver's croft I stole.
To see if the flax were sprung ;
And I met the weaver at his gate
With the good news on his tongue.
" Now this is all I heard, mother,
And all that I did see :
So prithee, make my bed, mother.
For Fm tired as I can be."
Mary Howitt.
Dank. — Wet, moist.
Lintseed. — The seed of flax.
Croft. — A fenced field used as a
pasture, or planted.
Brownie. — A fairy, who was sup-
posed to do useful work about
a house sometimes while people
were sleeping.
Mildew. — A coating found on
decaying vegetable substances,
and caused by dampness.
Legend. — A story containing
some marvel, or thing of great
interest.
Dwindling. — Growing less ; wast-
ing away.
FOR STUDY.
At midsummer we have the longest day and the shortest night.
It comes on the twenty-first of June. Tell for how long a time
there had been no rain.
What were the three special things that the fairies had done ?
Give their report in your own words.
Tell also what Mary found on coming down.
310 FOURTH READER.
LXXX.
hor-i-zon re-gion au-ro-ra bo-re-al-is
ma-ctiines fur-nislied ex-cliange Es-qui-maux
THE FROZEN ZONE.
1. In the region of the north pole are countries
where winter lasts nearly all the year. The few
people who live in this frozen zone are scattered
about over a large country. They do not build
houses. They keep shut up the most of the year.
They have no fields of corn, no machines to work
with, and no books to read. No great nations are
found in the frozen zone. It is almost too cold to
live.
2. In the winter these poor people cannot see
the sun for many weeks. This is not on account
of clouds, but because the sun does not come above
the horizon — the place where earth and sky seem
to meet. Can you think of a place where the
stars keep on shining as if it were night ?
How strange it would be to miss the sun !
3. They have in the sky, however, a grander
sight than we have ever seen. There are times
when the heavens are full of lights that dance
about, or form a beautiful arch overhead. They
THE FKOZEN ZONE. 311
are so bright as almost to dazzle the eyes. Some
of them are red, some yellow, and some purple;
indeed, there are all the colors of the rainbow.
4. It seems as if they came to cheer the poor
people who live there. By the shining of these
lights and of the stars, which shine more brightly
in these cold countries than anywhere else, the
people can see to move about, and even to work.
The name of these lights is Aurora Borealis, or,
if they have a wavy motion, they are called The
Merry Dancers.
5. In one part of the frozen zone are people
called Esquimaux. They would look to us like
stout boys with old faces, for they do not grow tall
like men we know.
They dress themselves warmly in furs and
skins, and in winter make huts of frozen snow,
unless they can find wood that has drifted to their
shores.
6. The snow hut is very clean and white when
it is new, and it keeps hard all winter. If the
vessel of oil, that is used for both a lamp and a
stove by floating little lighted wicks in it, makes
the hut so warm that it drips a little, the owner
has only to take a fresh piece of snow and
mend it.
312
FOURTH READER.
7. A cooking-pot hangs over the lamp, but the
Esquimaux does not always care to have his meat
cooked. He likes it quite as well raw.
THE FROZEN ZONE.
313
When the short summer comes, and the hut
begins to melt, he is glad to exchange it for a
tent.
8. Wherever man can live, there some animal
makes his home. The fierce white bear lives on
the ice of these polar regions, and the seal is found
about its shores.
The bear furnishes the Esquimaux with soft,
warm fur, and the skin of the seal makes his coat,
his cap, and his shoes.
9. Besides these there are the great Esquimaux
dogs, which take the place of a horse to him.
For horses could not live in this land. There is
nothing for them to eat, and there are no roads
for them to travel upon. .
The dogs help him in hunting, too, for they
like nothing better than running down the white
bear. If a driver wishes his dogs to go faster, he
cries " Nannook ! " Nannook is the name given,
in that country, to the fierce white bear.
Zone. — A section of the earth.
The zone here meant is the most
northern part of the earth —
around the north pole.
Aurora Borealis, also called Nor-
thern Lights. — Aurora means
bright or golden, like the dawn
of day, and Borealis means
northern.
314 FOURTH READERo
LXXXI.
o-bliged mos-qui-toes suf-fi-cient liar-nessed
THE BUSY LITTLE LAPPS.
1. There is another tribe of busy little people
who live in the frozen zone, and are seldom seen
elsewhere.
They do not live in huts as the Esquimaux do.
They are obliged to wander up and down the
country ; so they pitch tents, which they can move
about as they like.
2. They are called Lapps, which is a short word
for Laplander. Lapland is the name of the coun-
try w^here they live.
The reason why the Lapp moves about so much
is because of a very useful animal, which is his
chief wealth. The animal is the reindeer. He is
a very restless creature, and does not seem at all
to mind the cold.
3. In summer the mosquitoes, which are very
large and fierce in that country, bite him, and
he is glad to run up the mountains to escape
them.
Then his master follows and sets up his tent.
4. When winter comes, and the mosquitoes go
THE BUSY LITTLE LAPPS.
315
away, the Lapp drives his reindeer down to the
plain, and again sets up his tent.
5. You would not think the tent a very comfort-
able place to live.
The door is so small
that you can hardly
get in through it, and
the smoke of the fire
goes out at a hole in
the top — but not till
it has blackened all
the faces and hurt
the eyes.
6. There are neither
lamps nor candles.
The people think the
fire-light is sufficient.
They sleep and sit
upon skins spread
upon the floor. Their
stove is a circle of
stones, and they learn
the time by looking at the sun. HoW many
things the little Lapp has to do without!
7. But he is happy and contented. If he has a
herd of reindeer, he thinks he is a rich man.
316 FOURTH READER.
In winter, when the wild fowl have flown away,
and the sea is too frozen to let him catch fish, he
goes to his herd of reindeer and kills one of them.
8. This is as good to him as beef or mutton is
to us. Every morning and night some of the
reindeer are milked. The milk is thicker and
nicer than that of the cow, and the Lapp wife
makes cheese of what they do not need of it to
drink. She does not provide butter for her
family.
9. When the reindeer is killed, his warm skin
makes a coat or rug for his master, or whatever gar-
ment any of the family may need, so that the rein-
deer may be said to both feed and clothe his owners.
10. Besides this, he is harnessed to a sledge by
a strap and guided by a cord around his horns,
so that his master, drawn by his faithful reindeer,
may ride miles away. The reindeer, like his master,
seems quite content with his life. He wants nothing
to eat but the moss that grows upon the ground.
11. In winter, when it is so cold that you could
not stand out in it a minute without freezing, the
reindeer will go about turning up the frozen snow
to find the moss. He has no stable or shelter of
any kind, but he will not suffer much, for God has
fitted him for the life he lives.
ICELAND AND GREENLAND.
317
Mosquito. — There are several different species of this little
insect. The larvae grow under water, and the insects are most
common in marshy land. They make a wound in order to suck
blood.
The Reindeer is known from other deer by its size and its
branching horns. It is a strong, patient, willing animal, like the
cow or ox, but it travels much more rapidly.
^JO^CX^ .
LXXXII.
moun-tain-ous
bod-ice an-cient
vol-ca-noes
ad-van-tage
in-tel-li-gent sul-ptiur
ma-te-ri-als
quan-ti-ties
cul-ti-vated wal-rus
com-plete
ICELAND AND GREENLAND.
1. Iceland, though not so cold as Lapland, is a
very cold country except in the short summers.
There are valleys which are cultivated, but the
most of the island is either too mountainous or
too rocky.
2. The most singular fact about the country is
that though there is ice at the top of the ground,
there is fire beneath.
Very long ago it was not uncommon for this
fire to send out burning rock called lava from an
opening, or crater, at the top of the mountains.
There is but one of these volcanoes now, and it
has been quiet for a long time.
318 FOURTH READER.
3. The fire, however, has not died out. People
tell us that if they put their ears close to the
ground, the hissing of steam and a rumbling sound
can be distinctly heard. Fire and water are meet-
ing together, and when this heated water finds
a place where it can escape, it spouts up like a
fountain.
4. It is sometimes so hot that a kettle would
boil over it. Travellers always go to see these
hot springs. Indeed, many people go to Iceland
every year to visit them. They are called gey-
sers, which is a good name for them, since it
means to spout or rage.
5. The people take advantage of the smaller
hot springs, if the water is pure, and wash their
clothes in them; but many of them are mixed with
sulphur, which leaves a stain and smell.
6. The Icelanders live mostly by the seaside in
order to get their living by catching fish. They
have wooden houses with bright painted doors
and green shutters. Those who are rich have
larger and better houses with windows, but the
materials have to be brought from other coun-
tries, as there are no forests in Iceland now, and
very few shops where work can be done.
7. An Iceland lady wears a scarlet bodice, a
ICELAND AND GREENLAND. 319
blue cloth petticoat, and a ruff of red and blue
about her neck. She will have silver chains in
her hair and a curious high head-dress with a
bright handkerchief at the top.
8. Garden vegetables are raised in the valleys
but no corn grows. Herds of sheep graze on the
hillside, and the women spend the long winter
evenings in spinning the wool and weaving it for
their clothes, or in knitting gloves and stockings.
9. Another source of wealth to the Icelander
is the down from the eider duck. It is of great
value for warm, light quilts. The Iceland woman
has only to gather the down, for the bird pulls it
herself from her own breast to line her nest and
make a bed for her young ducklings.
10. The nests are very close together, and when
the bird is away, the people come and take the
down. The bird comes back and finds it gone,
and sets herself at work to pull some more.
11. Fortunately she has so thick a plumage that
she does not suffer greatly from the loss, or if she
does, her mate will pull some of his. Yet I do
not think the ducks like the treatment very well.
As soon as the little ducks can swim, they all go
away, and are not seen again till the next year.
12. There are but few schools in Iceland, yet the
320
FOURTH READER.
people are very intelligent. In the poorest cot-
tages the children are taught to read ; and if they
have fewer books than you, those that they have
are of the best kind, and the people know them
well.
13. Very charming stories are told to the chil-
dren. They are of things that are said to have
happened in the ancient times when nobles first
came from Norway to settle the country. They
worshipped the gods that they supposed were in
the sun, the wind, the storm, the volcano, and the
earthquake, and told the mighty things they did.
The people are Christians now, but these stories
have in them much that is beautiful and true of
the great God who is to be seen in all His works.
14. The stories of the Frozen Zone would not be
complete without some notice of Greenland.
The Greenlander has a round house made of
great stones. It has separate apartments, and
several families live in one house. The houses
have windows, but very little air is let in; and
you creep into the house through a dark, narrow
passage. A little wood is thrown on shore by
the sea, and is saved with great care for the roofs
of houses.
15. The lamp is used for a stove as it is among
the Esquimaux.
ICELAND AND GREENLAND.
321
They have no reindeer milk, for the reindeer runs
wild, but they hunt it for the sake of its flesh.
The animals on which they most depend are the
seal, the whale, and the walrus.
322 FOURTH READER.
16. Great quantities of oil are sent to other
countries in exchange for things that the Green-
lander is glad to obtain, and the oil of these
animals is much needed.
The seal and walrus come on shore and rest
upon the banks. They feel safer, however, in the
water and do not go far away from it.
The whale or walrus fisher has a boat of whale-
bone so covered with the skin of the seal as to fit
tightly about his body. He has made the boat
himself, as the Esquimaux did his sledge, out of
whalebone, and covered it with skin from the seal.
If the weather is ever so stormy, he does not
mind. If a wave knocks him over, he can soon
right himself with his paddle.
Seal. — An animal living on the shores of cold countries. Its
head and neck are shaped like those of the cat or dog, and it has
short forepaws, but the rest of the body is shaped like that of a
fish. It spends the most of its time in the water, but does not
breathe like the fish.
Walrus. — A creature like the seal but having two long ivory
tusks and living less on shore.
GOODY BLAKE AND HARRY GILL. 323
LXXXIII.
duf-fel pot-tage al-lur-ing -waist-coats
smottL-er liglit-some en-dur-ing sliel-tered
GOODY BLAKE AND HARRY GILL — Part I.
[A TRUE STORY.]
Oh! what's the matter? what's the matter?
What is't that ails young Harry Gill,
That evermore his teeth they chatter,
Chatter, chatter, chatter still ?
Of waistcoats Harry has no lack.
Good duffel gray, and flannel fine ;
He has a blanket on his back.
And coats enough to smother nine.
In March, December, and in July,
'Tis all the same with Harry Gill ;
The neighbors tell, and tell you truly,
His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
At night, at morning, and at noon,
'Tis all the same with Harry Gill ;
Beneath the sun, beneath the moon,
His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
Young Harry was a lusty drover,
And who so stout of limb as he ?
His cheeks were red as ruddy clover ;
324 FOURTH READER.
His voice was like the voice of three.
Old Goody Blake was old and poor ;
111 fed she was and thinly clad ;
And any man who passed her door
Might see how poor a hut she had.
All day she spun in her poor dwelling :
And then her three hours' work at night,
Alas ! 'twas hardly worth the telling,
It would not pay for candle-light.
Remote from sheltered village green,
On a hill's northern side she dwelt,
Where from sea-blasts the hawthorns lean,
And hoary dews are slow to melt.
By the same fire to boil their pottage,
Two poor old dames, as I have known,
Will often live in one small cottage ;
But she, poor woman ! housed alone.
'Twas well enough when summer came,
The long, warm, lightsome summer day,
Then at her door the canty dame
Would sit, as any linnet gay.
But when the ice our streams did fetter.
Oh, then how her old bones would shake !
You would have said, if you had met her,
GOODY BLAKE AND HARRY GILL.
325
'Twas a hard time for Goody Blake.
Her evenings then were dull and dead :
Sad case it was, as you may think,
For very cold to go to bed,
And then for cold not sleep a wink.
joy for her ! whene'er in winter
The winds at night had made a rout ;
And scattered many a lusty splinter
And many a rotten bough about.
Yet never had she, well or sick,
As every man who knew her says,
A pile beforehand, turf or stick,
Enough to warm her for three days.
Now, when the frost was past enduring.
And made her poor old bones to ache.
Could anything be more alluring
Than an old hedge to Goody Blake ?
And now and then, it must be said.
When her old bones were cold and chill,
She left her fire, or left her bed.
To seek the hedge of Harry Gill.
Remote. — Distant; far.
Duffel. — A woolen cloth with a
thick nap.
Hoary dews. — Frost.
Pottage. — A soup with vegetables.
Canty. — Blithe, good-humored.
Alluring. — Attracting, tempting.
Enduring. — Bearing. " Past en-
during," means more than she
was able to bear.
326 FOURTH READER.
LXXXIV.
de-tect-ed fierce-ly -witti-ered seize
ven-geance case-ment com-plain-ing knees
GOODY BLAKE AND HARRY GILL — Part M.
Now Harry he had long suspected
This trespass of old Goody Blake ;
And vowed that she should be detected —
That he on her would vengeance take ;
And oft from his warm fire he'd go,
And to the fields his road would take ;
And there, at night, in frost and snow,
He watched to seize old Goody Blake.
And once behind a rick of barley,
Thus looking out did Harry stand :
The moon was full and shining clearly,
And crisp with frost the stubble land.
— He hears a noise — he's all awake —
Again ! — on tiptoe down the hill
He softly creeps — 'tis Goody Blake ;
She's at the hedge of Harry Gill !
Right glad was he when he beheld her ;
Stick after stick did Goody pull :
He stood behind a bush of elder,
GOODY BLAKE AND HARKY GILL. 327
Till she had fill'd her apron full.
When with her load she turned about,
The by-way back again to take ;
He started forward with a shout,
And sprang upon poor Goody Blake.
And fiercely by the arm he took her.
And by the arm he held her fast,
And fiercely by the arm he shook her,
And cried, " I've caught you then at last ! "
Then Goody, who had nothing said,
Her bundle from her lap let fall.
And kneeling on the sticks she prayed
To God that is the judge of all.
She prayed, her withered hand uprearing,
While Harry held her by the arm —
" God, who art never out of hearing,
may he never more be warm I "
The cold, cold moon above her head.
Thus on her knees did Goody pray ;
Young Harry heard what she had said,
And icy cold he turned away.
He went complaining all the morrow
That he was cold and very chill :
His face was gloom, his heart was sorrow.
328
FOURTH READER.
Alas ! that day for Harry Gill !
That day he wore a riding coat^
But not a whit the warmer he :
Another was on Thursday bought ;
And ere the Sabbath he had three.
'Twas all in vain, a useless matter,
And blankets were about him pinned :
Yet still his jaws and teeth they chatter,
Like a loose casement in the wind.
And Harry's flesh it fell away,
And all who see him say 'tis plain
That, live as long as live he may,
He never will be warm again.
No word to any man he utters.
Abed or up, to young or old ;
But ever to himself he mutters,
" Poor Harry Gill is very cold ! "
Abed or up, by night or day.
His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
Now think, ye farmers all, I pray.
Of Goody Blake and Harry Gill !
W. Wordsworth.
Trespass. — Going to some one
else's grounds without leave.
Detected. — Found out, discov-
ered doing a wrong.
Uprearing. — Lifting up.
Casement. — Window that opens
on hinges; window case, or
frame.
THE TRUTH-TELLEK. 329
LXXXV.
be-tray sig-nal gov-ern-or rev-o-lu-tion
THE TRUTH-TELLER.
1. In the year 1777, in the war of the Revolu-
tion, a governor, whose name was Griswold, found
himself in danger of being seized by the king's
soldiers, and took shelter in a farm-house, which
was the home of a relative. While hidden there,
he heard that a band of soldiers was on the road
with orders to search the farm and seize him.
2. Griswold thought he would try to reach a
small stream with deep banks on each side, where
he had left a boat which the passers-by could not
see. In great haste he went out of the house to
go through an orchard, where he found a young
girl, about twelve years old, with her dog. They
were watching some long pieces of linen cloth
which lay around, stretched out in the sun to
bleach.
3. Hetty was on a bank with her knitting, and
near her was a pail of water, from which she
sprinkled the cloth now and then, to keep it damp.
She started up when a man leaped over the fence,
330 FOURTH READER.
but she soon saw it was her cousin, Governor Gris-
wold.
4. " Hetty/' he said, " I shall lose my life unless
I can get to the boat before the soldiers come.
You see where the roads part, close by the orchard ;
I want you to run down towards the shore and
meet the soldiers, who are sure to ask for me, and
tell them that I have gone up the road to catch
the mail-cart."
5. Hetty. " But, cousin, how can I say so ? — it
would not be true. Oh, why did you tell me
which way you were going ?"
Griswold. " Would you betray me, Hetty, and
see me put to death? Hark! they are coming.
I hear the clink of the horses' feet : tell them I
have gone up the road, and Heaven will bless
you."
6. Hetty. "Those who speak false words will
never be happy ; but they shall not make me tell
which way you go, even if they kill me — so run
as fast as you can."
Griswold. " It is too late to run. Where can I
hide myself ? "
7. Hetty. " Be quick, cousin, come down and lie
under this cloth ; I will throw it over you and go
on sprinkling the linen,"
THE TRUTH-TELLER. 331
Griswold. " I will come down, for it is my last
chance."
8. He was soon hidden under the heavy folds of
the long cloth. In a few minutes a party of horse-
soldiers dashed along the road. An officer saw the
girl, and called out to her in a loud voice —
" Have you seen a man run by this way ? "
Hetty. "Yes, sir."
9. Officer. " Which way did he go ? "
Hetty. " I promised not to tell, sir."
Officer. " But you must tell me this instant, or
it will be worse for you."
Hetty, "I will not tell, for I must keep my
word."
"Let me speak, for I think I know the child,"
said a man who was guide to the party.
10. Guide. " Is your name Hetty Marvin ? "
Hetty. " Yes, sir."
Guide. "Perhaps the man who ran past you
was your cousin ? "
Hetty. " Yes, sir, he was."
Guide. " Well, we wish to speak with him ;
what did he say to you when he came by?"
Hetty. " He told me that he had to run to save
his life."
11. Guide. "Just so; that was quite true. I
332 FOUETH KEADER.
hope he will not have far to run. Where was he
going to hide himself ? "
Hetty. " My cousin said that he would go to the
river to find a boat, and he wanted me to tell the
men in search of him that he had gone the other
way to meet the mail-cart."
12. Guide. " You are a good girl, Hetty, and we
know you speak the truth. What did your cousin
say when he heard that you could not tell a lie to
save his life ? "
Hetty. " He said, ' Would I betray him and see
him put to death ?'"
Guide. " And you said you would not tell, if you
were killed for it?"
Poor Hetty's tears fell fast, as she said, " Yes,
sir."
13. Guide. " Those were brave words, and I sup-
pose he thanked you, and ran down the road as
fast as he could ? "
Hetty. "I promised not to tell which way he
went, sir."
Gfuide. "Oh, yes — I forgot; but tell me his last
words, and I will not trouble you any more."
14. Hetty. " He said, ' I will come down, for it
is my last chance.' "
Hetty was now in great fear ; she sobbed aloud,
THE TRUTH-TELLER. 333
and hid her face in her apron. The soldiers thought
they had got all they wanted to know, and rode ofE
to the river-side.
15. While Griswold lay hid at the farm he had
agreed upon a signal with his boatmen, that if in
trouble he would put a white cloth by day, or a
light at night, in the attic window of his hiding-
place, and when either signal was seen, the men
were to be on the watch ready to help him in case
of need. No sooner did the soldiers ride away
than Griswold' s friends in the house hung out a
white cloth from the window, to warn the boat-
men, who pulled out to sea, when they saw the red
coats of the soldiers as they dashed along the river-
side.
16. The boat, with two men in it, was nearly out
of sight by the time the soldiers got to the shore,
and this caused them to think that Griswold had
made his escape.
Meantime he lay safe and quiet until the time
came for Hetty to go home to supper. Then he
bade her ask her mother to put the signal-lamp in
the window as soon as it grew dark, and send him
some clothes and food. The signal was seen, the
boat came back, and Griswold made his way to it
in safety.
334
FOUETH KEADER.
17. In better days, when the war was over, he
named his first child Hetty Marvin, that he might
daily think of the brave young cousin whose sense
and truthfulness had saved his life.
Miss Crompton.
Revolution. — The word used by
Americans to indicate the war
by which they gained their free-
dom from British rule.
Signal. — A sign which has been
agreed upon to give notice of
danger or occurrence at a dis-
tance.
Betray. — To deliver into the hands
of an enemy. To violate the
confidence of one who trusted.
>J<«c
LXXXVI.
vic-to-ry
riv-u-let
Eu-gene
■Wil-liel-mine
liere-a-bout
ex-pect-ant
plo\^7■-sllare
Marl-bro'
THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM.
It was a summer evening,
Old Kaspar's work was done,
And he, before his cottage door,
Was sitting in the sun ;
And by him sported on the green
His little grandchild Wilhelmine.
She saw her brother Peterkin
Roll something large and rounds
THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM.
335
That he, beside the rivulet,
In playing there had found ;
She ran to ask what he had found,
That was so large, and smooth, and round.
Old Kaspar took it from the boy,
Who stood expectant by ;
336 FOURTH READER.
And then the old man shook his head,
And with a natural sigh,
" 'Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he,
" Who fell in the great victory.
" I find them in my garden, for
There's many hereabout ;
And often when I go to plow.
The plowshare turns them out ;
For many thousand men," said he,
a "Were slain in that great victory."
" Now tell us what 'twas all about,"
Young Peterkin he cri^s.
And little Wilhelmine looks up,
With wonder-waiting eyes :
" Now tell us all about the war,
And what they killed each other for."
" It was the English," Kaspar cried,
" Who put the French to rout,
But what they killed each other for,
I could not well make out.
But everybody said," quoth he,
'' That 'twas a famous victory.
THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 337
" My father lived at Blenheim then,
Yon little stream hard by;
They burned his cottage to the ground,
And he was forced to fly ;
So with his wife and child he fled,
Nor had he where to rest his head.
" With fire and sword the country round
Was wasted far and wide.
And many a tender mother then,
And new-born baby died.
But things like that you know must be
At every famous victory.
" They say it was a shocking sight
After the field was won,
For many thousand bodies here
Lay rotting in the sun.
But things like that, you know, must be
After a famous victory.
" Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won,
And our good Prince Eugene."
" Why, 'twas a very wicked thing ! "
Said little Wilhelmine.
338
FOURTH READER.
" Nay, nay, my little girl," quoth he,
" It was a famous victory.
" And everybody praised the duke,
Who this great fight did win."
" But what good came of it at last ? "
Quoth little Peterkin.
" Why, that I cannot tell," said he ;
"But 'twas du famous victory''
SOUTHEY.
Blenheim. — A battle fought in
1704, at Blenheim, in Bavaria,
in which the Duke of Marlbor-
ough, a great English general,
and Prince Eugene of Savoy,
defeated the French and Bava-
rians.
Sported.— Played.
Rivulet. — A little stream.
Expectant. — Expecting, waiting.
Many thousand. — 36,000 were
killed or wounded.
Wonder - waiting. — Waiting to
hear something wonderful.
Rout. — Defeat.
Quoth he. — Said he.
>:«ic
pre-vent-ed
ac-cus-tomed
LXXXVII.
en-gag-ing
feath.-er-ing
an-nounced
mys-ter-y
vig-or-ous-ly
po-lice-man
OUR DANDIE.— Part I.
1. A very long dog is Dandie, .with short bits of
legs, nice close-hanging ears, hair as strong and
rough as the brush you use for your hair, and a
OUR DANDIE. 339
face — well, some say it is ugly; I myself, and all
my friends, think it is most engaging.
2. It is partly hidden with bonny soft locks of
an amber or golden hue; but push those locks
aside, and you will see nothing in the beautiful
dark hazel eyes but love and fun : for Dandie is
full of fun. Oh, how she does enjoy a run with
the children !
3. On the road she goes feathering here, there,
and everywhere. Her legs are hardly straight, you
must understand — the legs of few Dandies are, for
they are so accustomed to creep down drains, and
into all sorts of holes, and go scraping here and
scraping there that their feet and fore-legs turn at
last something like a mole's.
340 FOURTH READER.
4. Dandle was not always the gentle, loving crea-
ture she is now, and this is the reason I am writ-
ing her story. Here, then, is how I came by
Dandle. I was sitting in my study one morning
writing, as usual, when a carriage stopped at the
door, and presently a friend was announced.
5. " Why, Dawson, my boy," I cried, getting up
to greet him, " what wind blew you all the way
here ? "
" Not a good one, by any means," said Dawson ;
" I came to see you about something."
" Well, well, sit down and tell me about it. I
hope your sister is not ill."
" Well," he replied absently, '' I think IVe done
all for the best ; though that policeman nearly had
her. But she left her mark upon him. Ha ! ha ! "
6. I began to think my friend was going out of
his mind. "Dawson," I said, "what have you
done with her?"
" She's outside in the carriage," replied Dawson.
7. I jumped up to ring the bell, saying, " Why,
Dawson, pray have the young lady in. It is cruel
to leave her by herself."
Dawson jumped up, too, and placing his hand
on my arm, prevented me from touching the bell-
rope.
OUR DANDIE. 341
8. "No, no!" he cried, "pray do not think of
it. She would bite you, tear you, rend you. Oh^
she is a vixen.'' This last word he pronounced
with great emphasis, sinking once more into the
chair, and, gazing absently at the fire, he added,
" And still I love her, good little thing ! "
9. I now felt quite sorry for Dawson. A moment
ago T merely thought he was out of his mind, now
I felt perfectly sure of it.
There was a few minutes' silence ; and then my
friend rushed to the window exclaiming, " There,
there ! She's at it again ! She has got the cab-
man by the coat-tails, and she'll eat her way
through him in five minutes, if I don't go."
10. Out he ran; and I followed, more puzzled
than ever. There in the carriage was no young
lady at all, but only the dear little Dandie whose
story I am writing. She was busily engaged in
tearing the driver's blue coat into strips, and
growling all the while most vigorously. She
quieted down, however, as soon as she saw her
master, jumped into his arms, and began to lick
his face.
11. So the mystery was cleared up. Half an
hour afterward I was persuaded to become the
owner of that savage Dandie, and Dawson had
342
FOURTH READER.
kissed her and left, lighter in heart than when he
had come.
Engaging. — Winning, attractive.
Bonny. — Nice, pretty.
Feathering. — Frisking.
Dandie, or Dandie Dinmont. — A
breed of dogs (see illustration),
so called from a Scotch farmer
of that name in Sir Walter
Scott's novel, " Waverley."
Announced. — A servant showed
him in.
Absently. — As though thinking
of something else.
Vixen. — A female fox ; used here
to mean an ill-tempered creature.
Emphasis. — Stress laid on a word
or words in speaking.
blithe-some
3j*ic
lieaven--ward
as-pir-mg
el-e-ment
THE FOUNTAIN.
Into the sunshine,
Full of the light,
Leaping and flashing
From morn till night !
Into the moonlight,
Whiter than snow,
Waving so flower-like
When the winds blow !
Into the starlight.
Rushing in spray,
THE FOUNTAIN. 343
Happy at midnight,
Happy by day !
Ever in motion,
Blithesome and cheery,
Still climbing heavenward,
Never aweary ;
Glad of all weathers,
Still seeming best.
Upward and downward,
Motion thy rest ;
Full of a nature
Nothing can tame,
Changed every moment,
Ever the same ;
Ceaseless aspiring.
Ceaseless content.
Darkness or sunshine
Thy element ;
Glorious fountain !
Let my heart be
Fresh, changeful, constant,
Upward like thee.
J. R. Lowell.
Aspiring. — Eager to rise higher. | Blithesome. — Gay, mirthful.
344 FOURTH READER.
LXXXIX.
vi-cious ne-glect-ed dis-suade sit-u-a-tion
re-plen-ish. pe-cul-iar con-sid-ered de-ter-mined
OUR. DANDIE. — Part II.
1. I set aside one of the best barrel kennels for
her, had a quantity of nice dry straw placed in it,
and gave her two dishes, one to be filled daily with
pure, clean water — without which, remember, no
dog can be healthy — and the other to hold her
food.
2. Now, I am not afraid of any dog. I have
owned scores in my time, and by treating them
gently and firmly I always managed to subdue
even the most vicious among them, and get them
to love me. But I must confess that this Dandie
was the most savage animal that I had ever met.
3. When I went to take her dish away next
morning, to wash and replenish it, only my own
quickness in beating a retreat prevented my legs
from being savagely bitten. I then tried to re-
move the dish with the stable broom. Alas for
the broom ! Howling and growling with passion,
with flashing eyes and glistening teeth, she tore
it in pieces, and then attacked the handle. But
OUR DANDIE. 345
I succeeded in feeding her, after which she was
more quiet.
4. Now, dogs, to keep them in health, need daily
exercise, and I determined Dandie should not want
that, wild though she seemed to be. There was
another scene when I went to unloose her; and I
found the only chance of doing so was to treat her
as they do wild bulls in some parts of the country.
6. I got a hook and attached it to the end of a
pole of the same length as the chain. I could then
keep her at a safe distance. And thus for a whole
week I had to lead her out for exercise. I missed
no chance of making friends with her, and in a
fortnight's time I could both take her dish without
a broom, and lead her out without the pole.
6. She was still the vixen, however, which her
former master had called her. When she was pre-
sented with a biscuit, she wouldn't think of eating
it before she had had her own peculiar game with
it. She would lay it against the back of the barrel,
and pretend not to see it, then suddenly she would
look round, fly at it, growling and yelping with
rage, and shake it as she would a rat.
7. Into such a perfect fury and frenzy did she
work herself during her battle with the biscuit, that
sometimes, on hearing her chain rattle, she would
346 FOURTH READER.
seize and shake it savagely. At these times, I have
often seen her bite her tail because it dared to wag
— bite it till the blood sprang, then with a howl of
pain bite it again and again. At last I made up
my mind to feed her only on soft food, and this 1
have since done.
8. Poor Dandie had now been with us many
months, and as she was almost always chained,
her life, upon the whole, was by no means a happy
one.
Her hair, too, got matted, and she looked so
morose and dirty, that the thought occurred to
my wife and me that she would be much better
dead. I considered the matter in all its bearings
for fully half an hour, and then suddenly jumped
up from my chair.
9. " What are you going to do ? " asked my wife.
"Fm going to wash Dandie; wash her, comb
out all her mats, dry her, and brush her, for, do
you know, I feel guilty of having neglected her."
10. My wife, in terror, tried to dissuade me. But
my mind was made up, and shortly after so was
Dandie' s bed — of clean dry straw in a warm loft
above the stable. " Firmly and kindly does it," I
had said to myself as I seized the vixen by the
nape of the neck, and in spite of her efforts to rend
OUK DANDIE. 347
any part of my person she could lay hold of, I
popped her into the tub.
11. Vixen, did I say ? She was popped into the
tub a vixen, but I soon found I had tamed the shrew,
and after she was rinsed in cold water, well dried,
combed, and brushed, the poor little thing jumped
on my knee and kissed me. Then I took her for a
run — a thing one ought never to neglect after
washing a dog. And you wouldn't have known
Dandie now, so beautiful did she look.
12. Dandie is still alive. She lies at my feet as
I write, a living example of the power of kindness.
She loves us all, and will let my sister, wife, or
little niece do anything with her, but she is still
most viciously savage to nearly all strangers. She
is the best watchdog I ever possessed, and a terror
to tramps.
13. She is wise, too, this Dandie of mine, for
when walking out with any one of my relations,
she is as gentle as a lamb, and will let anyone
fondle her. SI e may thus be safely taken with
us when maki-ng calls upon friends, but very few
indeed of those friends dare go near her when in
her own garden or kennel.
14. We have been well rewarded for our kindness
to Dandie, for though her usual residence by day
348
FOUKTH READER.
is her barrel, and by night with the other dogs, she
is often taken into the house, and in spite of our
being in a somewhat lonely situation, she becomes
a parlor boarder whenever I go from home for the
night, and I feel easy in my mind because Dandie
is in the house. Gordon Stables.
Scores. — The number 20 is a
score, as 12 is a dozen.
Subdue. — Conquer.
Beating a retreat. — Escaping. A
drum is beaten to order soldiers
to retreat or go back.
Replenish. — Fill again.
Glistening. — Shining.
Peculiar. — Belonging only to one
person or thing.
Frenzy. — Frantic rage.
Morose. — Sullen.
In all its bearings. — On all sides.
Shrew. — An ill-tempered female.
Parlor boarder. — One who lives
and takes meals with a family.
Presented with a biscuit. — A
biscuit or cracker, as it is often
called, was given to her.
>5<«c
XC.
fierce
■wield
fasli-ioned
smoul-dered
cour-a-geous
h.and-i-'work
■weap-ons
car-nage
TUBAL CAIN.
Old Tubal Cain was a man of might
In the days when earth was young ;
By the fierce red light of his furnace bright
The strokes of his hammer rung ;
And he lifted high his brawny hand
On the iron growing clear,
TUBAL CAIN.
349
Till the sparks rushed out in scarlet showers
As he fashioned the sword and spear.
And he sang, — Hurrah for my handiwork !
Hurrah for the spear and sword !
Hurrah for the hand that shall wield them well,
For he shall be king and lord ! ''
To Tubal Cain came many a one,
As he wrought by his glowing fire,
And each one prayed for a strong steel blade,
As the crown of his desire.
350 FOURTH ■ READER.
And he made them weapons, sharp and strong,
Till they shouted loud for glee,
And gave him gifts of pearls and gold,
And spoils of the forest free.
And they sang, — " Hurrah for Tubal Cain,
Who hath given us strength anew !
Hurrah for the smith ! Hurrah for the fire !
Hurrah for the metal true!"
But a sudden change came o'er his heart,
Ere the setting of the sun ;
And Tubal Cain was filled with pain
For the evil he had done.
He saw that men, with rage and hate.
Made war upon their kind ;
That the land was red with the blood they shed
In their lust for carnage blind.
And he said, — " Alas ! that I ever made,
Or that skill of mine should plan
The spear and sword for men whose joy
Is to slay their fellowman ! "
And for many a day old Tubal Cain
Sat brooding o'er his woe ;
And his hand forebore to smite the ore.
And his furnace smouldered low.
TUBAL CAIN.
351
But he rose at last with a cheerful face,
And a bright courageous eye,
And bared his strong right arm for work,
While the quick flames mounted high.
And he sang, — " Hurrah for my handiwork ! "
As the red sparks lit the air.
Not alone for the blade was the bright steel made !
And he fashioned the first plowshare.
And men, taught wisdom from the past.
In friendship joined their hands.
Hung the sword in the hall, the spear on the wall.
And plowed their willing lands.
And sung, — " Hurrah for Tubal Cain !
Our stanch good friend is he.
And for the plowshare and the plow
To him our praise shall be.
But while oppression rules its head.
Or a tyrant would be lord,
Though we may thank him for the plow.
We'll not forget the sword ! "
Charles Mackay.
Spoils of the forest, — Beasts
killed in the chase and the
skins, tusks, etc., obtained from
them for food, clothing, and
ornaments.
Brawny. — Strong, muscular.
Lust for carnage. — Wild, mad
desire for slaughter.
Fashioned. — Shaped and made.
Forebore. — Ceased.
Tubal Cain. — See Genesis iv. 22.
352 FOURTH READER.
XCI.
do-main hin-drance be-"wail-ing cav-al-cade
dis-closed gal-lant up-braid-ed pas-sen-ger
THE STONE IN THE ROAD.
1. In a far-off country, and a far-off time, in the
domain of honest Duke Otho, near the little village
of Himmelsmerl, a tall man in a long cloak might
have been seen, in the night-time, in a deep cut of
the road, called the Dornthau. He was scoop-
ing out a little round hollow in the very middle of
the road.
2. When it was as deep as he wished, he lined
the sides and bottom with pebbles, then went to
the side of the road, and worked at a large stone
till it was loosened. It was so heavy that he could
only stagger with it to the hole in the road.
From the folds of his cloak he took something
about the size of his fist, placed it in the pebble-
lined hole, let the stone drop so as to cover it
wholly, and then went his way.
3. Next morning a sturdy peasant came that
way with his lumbering ox-cart.
" Oh, the laziness," he cried, " of these people !
Here is this big stone right in the middle of the
THE STONE IN THE ROAD. 353
road, and not one of them has bethought himself
to thrust it aside lest it should break the bones of
the next body that comes by!"
4. And the sturdy Hans lumbered away, mutter-
ing to himself at the laziness of the people of Him-
melsmerl, and told his wife and children when he
went home that the Duke ought to know what
kind of folk his people were.
5. Next a gallant knight, with bright and wav-
ing plume and dangling sword, rollicked along,
singing a lively ditty. His head was too far back
for him to notice the stone, and down he fell with
his sword between his legs. He dropped his song
for a growl at " those boors, that leave a rock in
the road to break a gentleman's shins."
6. Next came a company of merchants, with
pads, pack-horses, and goods, on their way to the
fair that was to be held at the Duke's great town.
When these came to the stone, so narrow was the
road they had to file off on either side, and Berthold
cried : —
" To think the like of that big stone lying there,
and every soul to go past all the morning, and never
stop to take it away ! That will be something to
tell friend Hans, who is always bewailing the sloth
of the Himmelsmerl folk."
354 FOUKTH READER.
7. And thus it went on for the three weeks that
were left of October. Every passenger upbraided
his neighbor for leaving the hindrance where he
found it.
8. When three weeks had passed since the tall
man in the cloak put the stone where we have seen
it, the Duke sent to his people of Himmelsmerl to
meet him on the Dornthau, for he had something
to tell them. The day was come, and a crowd
thronged the road at the appointed spot.
9. Old Hans was there, and the merchant Ber-
thold. Said Hans: —
" I hope my Lord Duke will now know what a
lazy set he is duke over."
" It is a shame," answered Berthold.
And now a winding horn was heard, and a
cavalcade came galloping up. The Duke rode
into the cut, and the people closed in at each
end, and pressed nearer together on the bank
above.
10. Then honest Duke Otho, who had dismounted,
began with a half smile to speak :
" My people, you know I am fond of teaching
you now and then a lesson in an odd way, and for
such a lesson have I called you together this day.
It was I that put this stone here, and for three
THE STONE IN THE ROAD.
355
weeks every passer-by has left it here, and scolded
his neighbors for not taking it out of the way."
11. When he had thus spoken he stooped down,
lifted the stone, and disclosed a round hollow lined
with white pebbles, and in it a small leathern bag.
This the Duke held aloft, that all the people might
see what was written upon it, —
" For him who lifts the stone! "
12. He untied it, turned it upside down, and out
upon the stone fell, with a clear ring, a score of
bright gold coins. Hans looked at Berthold and
said:
"Humph!"
And Berthold looked back at Hans and said:
" Humph ! "
And the Duke looked around him with a smile,
and said :
" My people, rememljer the stone in the road!'
Domain. — Property in land ; es-
tate ; place of authority.
Sturdy. — Stout, strong.
Boor. — A rustic peasant ; a term
of reproach used to signify rude-
ness and ignorance.
Bewailing. — Lamenting, grieving
over.
Cavalcade. — A procession on
horseback.
Upbraided. — Charged with wrong
or fault.
This lesson is an example of what is called Illustrative Fiction :
a story told to emphasize a truth or teach a lesson. There is
another on pp. 37-40. Find others.
356 FOURTH READER.
XCII.
treacli-er-ous "wliirl-ing tur-bu-lent fi-er-y
in-ces-sant di-lat-ed lus-trous mim-ic
RAIN IN SUMMER. — I.
1. How beautiful is the rain ! After the dust
and heat, in the broad and fiery street, in the
narrow lane, how beautiful is the rain !
How it clatters along the roofs like the tramp
of hoofs ! How it gushes and struggles out from
the throat of the overflowing spout !
2. Across the window-pane it pours and pours,
and swift and wide, with a muddy tide, like a
river down the gutter roars — the rain, the wel-
come rain !
The sick man from his chamber looks at the
twisted brooks ; he can feel the cool breath of
each little pool ; his fevered brain grows calm
again, and he breathes a blessing on the rain.
3. From the neighboring school come the boys,
with more than wonted noise and commotion,
and down the wet streets sail their mimic fleets,
till the treacherous pool engulfs them in its whirl-
ing and turbulent ocean:
In the country, on every side, where far and
RAIN IN SUMMER.
357
wide, like a leopard's tawny and spotted hide,
stretches the plain, to the dry grass and the drier
grain, how welcome is the rain !
4. In the furrowed land the toilsome and patient
oxen stand. Lifting the yoke-encumbered head,
with their dilated nostrils spread, they silently
inhale the clover-scented gale and the vapors that
arise from the well-watered and smoking soil.
For this rest in the furrow after toil their large
and lustrous eyes seem to thank the Lord more
than man's spoken word.
5. Near at hand, from under the sheltering
trees, the farmer sees his pastures, and his fields
of grain, as they bend their tops to the numberless
beating drops of the incessant rain. He counts it
no sin that he sees therein only his own thrift and
g^i^- H. W. Longfellow.
Incessant. — Unceasing, contin-
ual.
Wonted. — Accustomed.
Treacherous. — False, like a trai-
tor.
Dilated. — Enlarged, expanded.
Lustrous. — Bright, shining.
Turbulent. — Disturbed, tumult-
This exquisite poem is continued in the following lesson. It is
in prose form to give the pupil the exercise of finding the lines.
In the first paragraph are five lines of poetry whose rhyming words
are rain, lane, rain, and heat, street. Copy the entire lesson as
poetry.
358 FOURTH READER.
XCIII.
chasms per-pet-u-al im-meas-ur-able vis-ion
RAIN IN SUMMER. — II.
These and far more than these.
The poet sees !
He can behold
Aquarius old
Walking the fenceless fields of air ;
And from each ample fold
Of the clouds about him rolled,
Scattering everywhere
The showery rain,
As the farmer scatters his grain.
He can behold
Things manifold
That have not yet been wholly told,
Have not been wholly sung nor said,
For his thought that never stops,
Follows the water-drops
Down to the graves of the dead,
Down through chasms and gulfs profound.
To the dreary fountain head
Of lakes and rivers under ground ;
KAIN IN SUMMER.
359
And sees them, when the rain is done,
On the bridge of colors seven
Climbing up once more to heaven
Opposite the setting sun.
Thus the seer.
With vision clear,
Sees forms appear and disappear,
In the perpetual round of change,
Mysterious change
From birth to death, from death to birth.
From earth to heaven, from heaven to earth.
Till glimpses more sublime
Of things, unseen before.
Unto his wondering eyes reveal
The Universe, as an immeasurable wheel
Turning forevermore
The rapid and rushing river of Time.
Aquarius. — The Water-bearer, a
sign of the Zodiac, through
which the sun moves in Janu-
ary and February ; so called
from rains being frequent at
that season.
Profound. — Deep, far-reaching.
Seer. — A prophet ; one who knows
hidden things.
Perpetual. — Constant, incessant.
Universe. — The entire creation.
The representation of Aquarius as a person " walking the fence-
less fields," and " scattering " the rain, is a figure of speech called
Personification.
To what is the Universe compared ? What is meant by " bridge
of colors"?
360 FOUKTH READER.
XCIV.
de-vice fal-ch.ion av-a-lanch.e spec-tral
gla-ciers clar-i-on ex-cel-si-or low-ers
EXCELSIOR.
The shades of night were falling fast
As through an Alpine village passed
A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice,
A banner with the strange device.
Excelsior !
His brow was sad; his eye beneath
Flashed like a falchion from its sheath ;
And like a silver clarion rung
The accents of that unknown tongue,
Excelsior !
In happy homes he saw the light
Of household fires gleam warm and bright ;
Above the spectral glaciers shone ;
And from his lips escaped a groan,
Excelsior !
" Try not the Pass ! " the old man said ;
" Dark lowers the tempest overhead ;
EXCELSIOR. 361
The roaring torrent is steep and wide."
And loud that clarion voice replied,
Excelsior !
" Oh, stay/* the maiden said, " and rest
Thy weary head upon this breast ! "
A tear stood in his bright blue eye,
But still he answered with a sigh.
Excelsior !
" Beware the pine-tree's withered branch !
Beware the awful avalanche ! "
This was the peasant's last good-night.
A voice replied, far up the height.
Excelsior !
At break of day, as heavenward
The pious monks of St. Bernard
Uttered the oft-repeated prayer,
A voice cried through the startled air,
Excelsior !
A traveller, by the faithful hound,
Half-buried in the snow was found.
Still grasping in his hand of ice
That banner with the strange device,
Excelsior !
362
FOURTH READER.
There in the twilight cold and gray,
Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay ;
And from the sky, serene and far,
A voice fell, like a falling star.
Excelsior !
H. W. Longfellow.
Device. — A design or emblem.
Falchion. — A broad sword.
Spectral. — Unreal, ghost-like.
Clarion. — A clear-toned, shrill
trumpet.
Avalanche. — A large mass of
snow, ice, or earth sliding or
rolling down a mountain.
Excelsior. — Still higher, ever
upward.
Serene. — Clear and calm.
READING REVIEW.
1. Teaching of Nature. — Review the preceding lessons, and
recite or write something that is told of an ant, butterfly, bobolink,
cat, dog, eagle, fox, horse, lamb, lobster, linnet, rabbit, robin,
spider, wasp, wolf; acorn, oak, amber, grasses (Red Top and
Timothy), wheat, falling leaves, wind, frost, rain in summer, win-
ter rain, streams, fountains, flowers, etc.
2. Authors. — Associate the following authors with the selec-
tion here given from their writings : Hans Andersen, AUingham,
Miss Andrews, Wm. Blake, Bjornson, Capern, Louise ChoUet,
Susan Coolidge, Marian Douglass, Mrs. Edgeworth, Mrs. Ewing,
Mrs. Gatty, J. & W. Grimm, Miss Havergal, Mary Howitt, Helen
Hunt, Heywood, Charles Kingsley, Lucy Larcom, James Russell
Lowell, Henry W. Longfellow, Christina Rossetti, Jean Mace,
Southey, Bayard Taylor, William Wordsworth, Miss Wordsworth.
3. Conduct and Character. — In which selection is each of
the following lessons taught : contentment, cheerfulness, honesty,
courage, truthfulness, thought for others, unselfishness, the golden
rule, just retribution or natural punishment and reward?
YB 36620
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