Sx mm

mmmsmm
 Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2015

https://archive.org/details/mcguffeyseclecti04mcgu_0
 ECLECTIC EDUCATIONAL SERIES.

M C GUFFEY'S

FOURTH PE

M
////

ECLECTIC READER!

REVISED EDITION.

VAN ANTWERP, BRAGG & CO.,

CINCINNATI. NEW YORK.
 In revising the Fourth Keader, the aim has been — as it

has with the other books of the Series — to preserve unimpaired

all the essential characteristics of MCGuffey's Beaders. New
pieces have been substituted for old ones only where the ad-
vantage was manifest.
The book has been considerably enlarged, and has been lib-

erally illustrated by the first artists of the country, as is shown

in the Table of Contents.

It can not be presumed that every pupil has at hand all the
works of reference necessary for the proper preparation of each
lesson; hence all the aids that seem requisite to this purpose

have been given. Brief notices concerning the various authors

represented have been inserted; the more difficult words have

been defined, and their pronunciation has been indicated by
diacritical marks; and short explanatory notes have been given
wherever required for a full understanding of the text.
Especial acknowledgment is due to Messrs. Houghton, Osgood
& Co. for their permission to make liberal selections from their
copyright editions of many of the foremost American authors
whose works they publish.

Copyright, 1879, by Van Antwerp, Bragg & Co.

eclectic press:
VAN ANTWERP, BRAGG & CO.,
CINCINNATI.

LIBRARY OF THE
UNIVERSITY *

OF ALBERTA \
 SELECTIONS IN PROSE AND POETRY.
Title. Author. Page
1. Perseverance Charlotte Elizabeth. 25
2. Try, Try Again T. H. Palmer. 28
3. Why the Sea is Salt . Mary Howitt. 29
4. Why the Sea is Salt Mary Howitt. 32
Popping Corn 34
5.

6.

7.
Smiles
Lazy Ned
. . .... . . . . . . * . .35
38
8. The Monkey 39
9. Meddlesome Matty 42
10. The Good Son 44
11. To-morrow Mrs. M. B. Johnson. 45
12. Where there is a Will there is a Way 47
13. Piccola Celia Thaxter. 48
14. True Manliness Mrs. M. O. Johnson. 50
15. True Manliness Mrs. M. O. Johnson. 52
16. The Brown Thrush Lucy Larcom. 54
17. A Ship in a Storm 55
The Sailor's Consolation Charles Dibdin. 58
18.
19.

20.
Two Ways of Telling a Story
Freaks of the Frost
.

....Hannah
. . . . .

Henry K.
Flagg Gould.
Oliver. 60
63
Waste not, Want not
21.
22.
23.
Jeannette and Jo
The Lion
..... Mary Mapes Dodge.
64
67
69
24. Strawberries . . ". J. T. Trowbridge. 71
25. Harry's Riches 74
In Time's Swing Lucy Larcom.
26.
27.
28.
Harry and his Dog
The Voice of the Grass
...... Mary Russell Mitford.
Sarah Roberts.
77
79
83
29. The Eagle 84
30. The Old Eagle Tree Dr. John Todd. 86
31. Alpine Song . ... . . . ... . W. W. Story.
(iii)
88
iv CONTENTS.
Title. Author. Page
32. Circumstances alter Cases 89
33 The Noblest Revenge 94
97
Lucy Larcom 99
36 The
Child's AYorld 103
3T Susie's Composition 104
38 The Summer Shower T B Read 109
39 Consequences of Idleness Abbott 110
Af\ A c\ \m v\ ta croc r»f Tnrl n<5t"rv Abbott 113
Lowell 116
117
43 The Winter King Hannah Flagg Gould 120
44 The Nettle Dr Walsh 121
45 The Tempest James T Fields 125
46 The Creator John I£eble 126
47 The Horse Bingley 128
48 Emulation » • • 132
49 The Sandpiper Celia Thaxter 134
50 The Right Way F R Stockton 136
51. The Golden Rule • . Emma C. Embury. 139
52 The SnoAv Man IMarian Douglas 143
53 Robinson Crusoe's House Daniel DeFoe 144
54 RoL)inson Crusoe's Dress Daniel DeFoe 147
150
56 ^Knowledge is Power 151
57 Good-will J T Trowbridge 153
r* "P PronnVi 156
59 The WHy to be Happy 159
60 The Giraffe 162
61 The Lost Child A hbntt 165
62. Which ? • • Mrs. E. L. Beers. 168
63 The Pet Fawn 172
64 Annie's Dream 175
65 My Ghost Mrs S M B Piatt 178
66 The Elephant 180
67 Dare to do Ri°\ht Thomas Hughes 183
68 Dare to do Right Thomas Hu°hes 186
69 AVreck of the Hesperus Lon°"fellow 190
70 Anecdotes of Birds Hall 193
71 The Rainbow Pilgrimage Grace Greenwood 197
72 The Old Oaken Bucket Samuel ^Vbodwortli 202
73 The Sermon on the IM^ount "04
74 The Young ^^itness S H Hammond 207
75 Solomon and the
Klin 0 *
-A nts Whittier 211
76. Rivermouth Theater T. B. Aldrich. 213
216
220
221
224
81. Burning the Fallow . Mrs. Susanna Moodie. 227
230
 CONTENTS. v

Title. Author. Page

83. The Attack on Nymegen Motley. 233
Spring H.G.Adams. 237
Summer . . ... . • . Lowell. -237
84. The Seasons
Autumn Thomas Hood. 238

85.
86.
Winter
Brandywine Ford
Brandywine Ford
.......
......
C. T. Brooks.
Bayard Taylor.
Bayard Taylor.
238
239
242
87. The Best Capital . Louisa M. Alcott. 245
88. The Inchcape Rock Southey. 249
89. My Mother's Grave 253
90. A Mother's Gift W. Fergusson. 255

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Subject. Aetist. Page

Perseverance H. F. Farny. 25
Popping Corn W. L. Sheppard. 35
The Monkey J. C.Beard. 40
Piccola F. Beck. 49
True Manliness "W. L. Sheppard. 53
A Ship in a Storm H. F. Farny.
Two Ways
The Lion
of Telling a Story ..... Schell & Hogan.
J. C. Beard.
56
60
69
Harry and his Dog E. J. Whitney. 81
Circumstances alter Cases H. F. Farny. 92
Evening Hymn . .
'
. H. F. Farny. 98
How Margery Wondered H. F. Farny. 100
Susie's Composition . . . . . . . W. L. Sheppard. 107
Coffee Granville Perkins. 117
The Horse J. C. Beard. 128
The Sandpiper H. F. Farny. 135
Robinson Crusoe's Dress H. F. Farny. 147
A & Hogan.
Which t
Which?
........
Chinese Story

. .
.

. . . . . . .
Schell
Mary Hallock Foote.
Mary Hallock Foote.
158
169
170
Dare to do Right C. S. Reinhart. 185
The Old Oaken Bucket Jerome Thompson. 202
Rivermouth Theater H. F. Farny. 215
The Attack on Nymegen H. F. Farny. 234
The Inchcape Rock Samuel Coleman. 251
 PUNCTUATION MARKS.

1. The Hyphen (-) is used between syllables and be-

tween the parts of a compound word; as, No-ble, col-o-ny,

and paper-mill, water-fall.
2. The Comma
(,), the Semicolon (;), and the Colon
(:) denote grammatical divisions.

Note.—These marks do not indicate the comparative length of the

made where they occur.
pauses to be

3. The Period ( .
) is placed at the end of a sentence.
It is also used after an abbreviation. As, God is love.
Dr. Eben Goodwin.
4. The Interrogation point (?) denotes a question; as,
Has he come? Who are you?
5. The Exclamation point (!) denotes strong feeling;
as, Oh Absalom! my son! my son!
6. Quotation marks (" ") denote the words of another;
as, God said, "Let there be light."
7. The Apostrophe ( ) denotes that a letter or letters
'

are left out; as, O'er, for over; 'tis, for it is.

It also denotes the possessive case; as, John's hat.

8. The Curves ( ) include what, if omitted, would not
obscure the sense. The parenthesis, or words included by
the curves, should be read in a low key, and with greater
rapidity than the rest of the sentence.
9. Brackets [ ] include something intended to exem-
plify what goes before, or to supply some deficiency, or rec-
tify some mistake.
10. A Dash ( — ) denotes a long or significant pause, or
an abrupt change or transition in a sentence.
(7)
8 ECLECTIC SERIES.
11. Marks of Ellipsis (***) indicate the omission of
letters of a word, or words of a sentence; as, P"****e
J**n, for Prince John; the ******* was hung, for the
traitor was hung.
Sometimes a long line, or a succession of dots is used
instead of stars; as, J n A s, for John Adams;
the D . . e W m, for the Duke William.
12. A Brace ( \ ) is used to connect several lines or
words together.
13. A Diaeresis (
*"
) is put over the latter of two vow-
els, to show that they belong to two distinct syllables;
thus, cooperate.
14. A Section ( §) is used to divide a discourse or chap-
ter into parts.
15. An Index ( f$^* ) points out something that requires
particular attention.
16. A Paragraph (^[) denotes a new subject. It is

used in the common version of the Bible.

17. Certain marks (*, f, +, §,) and sometimes figures
||,

and letters are used to refer to some remark in the margin.

18. A Caret (a) is used in writing, to show that some-
thing is omitted; as,

n her
Maner. I love for her modesty and virtue.
A A
 AETICULATIOK

ELEMENTAKY SOUNDS.
Articulation is the utterance of the elementary sounds
of a language, and of their combinations.

An Elementary Sound is a simple, distinct sound made

by the organs of speech.
The Elementary Sounds of the English language are
divided into Vocals, Subvocals, and Aspirates.

Vocals are those sounds which consist of pure tone only.

They are the most prominent elements of speech. A diph-
thong is a union of two vocals, commencing with one and
ending with the other.

Subvocals are those sounds in which the vocalized breath

is more or less obstructed.

Aspirates consist of breath only, modified by the vocal

organs.

VOCALS.

—
Directions for Articulation. 1. Let the mouth be open, and
the teeth, tongue, and palate in their proper position. 2. Pro-

nounce the word in the Chart forcibly, and with the falling in-
flection, several times in succession; then drop the subvocal or

aspirate sounds which precede or follow the vocal, and repeat the
vocals alone.
(9)
10 ECLECTIC SERIES.

TABLE.
Long Vocals.

a, as in hate. e, as in eve.
a hare. e, " err.

a,
et
far. I, " pine.
a,
t(
pass. 6, " no.
"
a,
ti
fell- % tube.
oo, as in eool.

Short

a, as in mat. o, as in h6t.

6, met. u, " us.

i, It. do, " book.

Remark.— In this table, the short sounds, except u, are nearly or quite
the same, in quality, as certain of the long sounds. The difference con-
sists chiefly in quantity. As a rule, the long vocals should be prolonged
with a full, clear utterance; but the short vocals should be uttered
sharply and almost explosively.

Diphthongs.

oi, oy, as in coin, boy. |

ou, ow, as in noun, now.

SUBVOCALS AND ASPIRATES.

Directions for Articulation. Pronounce — distinctly
and forcibly, several times in succession, words in which
these sounds occur as elements; then drop the other sounds,
and repeat the sub vocals and aspirates alone. Each sub-
vocal in the first table should be practiced in connection
with its cognate sound.
Let the class repeat the words and elements, at first in
concert; then separately.
Select words ending with subvocal sounds for practice on
subvocals ; words beginning or ending with aspirate sounds,
for practice on aspirates.
 FOURTH READER. 11

COGNATE SOUNDS.
Subvocals. Aspirates.

D> as in babe. p, as in rap.

Q, rod. t, at.

g> fog. book.

« judge. ch,
tt
chat.
h
it
V, live. f, file.
tt tt
til, them. th, myth.
tt tt
z, buzz. s, sink.
tt tt
zh 5
azure. sh, shine.
tt it
w, win. wh, when.

Remark.—These eighteen sounds make nine pairs of cognate sounds.

In articulating the aspirates, the vocal organs are put in the position as
required for the articulation of the corresponding subvocals but the ;

breath is expelled with some force, without the utterance of any vocal
sound. Let the pupil verify this by experiment, and then practice on
these cognates.
The following sounds are not cognates.

SUBVOCALS.

1, as in mill, ng, as in sing, think,

m, " him. r, (rough) " rule,
n, " tin. r, (smooth) " car.

y, as in yet.

ASPIRATE,

h, as in hat.

SUBSTITUTES.

Substitutes are characters used to represent sounds or-

dinarily represented by other characters. The following
table indicates nearly every form of substitution used in
the language: a few exceptional cases only are omitted.
12 ECLECTIC SERIES.

TABLE OF SUBSTITUTES.

a for e, a s in any. Q for do, as in to.

a « " what. O tt
QO, " would.
6,
c z. " suffice. 6 tt
ft, " son.
c ee
s " cite. ph tt
V, " Stephen.
V r
Q ee
k,
11
cap. ph tt
f, " sylph.
j i

eh ee
k, " ache.
te
k, " liquor.
q
ch ee
sh, " machine. qu ee
kw, " quote.
d te
1,
" soldier. s
it
sh, " sure.
e it
i, " England. g
tt
zh; " rasure.
te a tt "
e a, there. § Z, rose.
e « a, " feint. u tt
e, " bury.
ee
tt
I, " . been. u it
I, " bu§y.
f te
v, " of. u tt
e, " urge.
ee
" cage. u tt
oo, " rude.
g j,
gh ee f, " laugh. u tt
66, " pull.
gh a k, " lough. X it
ks, " wax.
I
ee
e, " poll ye. X tt
ksh, " noxious.
« " X tt
z, " Xerxes.
I e, thirst.
it
i y»
" filial.
tt
gz, " examine.
n tt " rink. y e, " myrrh.
tt
o e, " work. it :
my.
7 h '

o it
I, " women. a " hymn.
f h
6 a, " form. z s, " quartz.

VOCALS.
Let the teacher utter each word, and then its vocal sound, and let the
pupil imitate closely and carefully, thus:

Mate, a: Rate, a: Man, a: Far, a: etc.

a. —Mate, rain, say, they, feint, gauge, break, vein, gaol.

a. — Man, pan, tan, shall, lamp, back, mat, stand.
a. —Far, hard, ah, aunt, heart, guard, psalm.
a. — Ball, pause, saw, broad, storm, naught, bought.
talk,

a. —Was, what, wash, swap, nod, kn5wledge. blot,

e. —Me, key,
tree, sea, people, field, ceiling, police.
 FOURTH READER. 13

e. —Mgt, bread, said (s£d), says (sez), friend, h&fer, leopard,

guess, any (en'ny), bury (ber'ry).

e. — Her, clerk, earn, were, durst, first, work, myrrh,

i. —Pine, sign, type,
lie, buy, sleight, guide, aisle, choir.
|. —Pin, fountain, been busy (bin), (biz'y), surfeit, sieve,
hymn, myth.
build,
1. — Sir, bird, girl, mirth,
birch, birth.
5. —No, door, loam, hoe, snow, soul, sew (so), yeomen,
bureau (bu'rd), hautboy (ho'boy).
6. —Not, blot, chop, throb, bother, body, wan.
6.—
—Nor, born, storm, cork, small, fdrk, stall,

o. wom'an,
"Wolf, would, should,
bush'el, pull.

0. —Move, who, tomb, group, soup, shoe, do, loge.

6.— Love, shove, touch,
son, flood, front, tongue. doeg,
66. —Wool, book, cook, rook, goodly.
56. —Food, goose, spoon, noon.
troop, tooth,
u. —Use, abuse, beauty, view, adieu.
feud,
u. —Hub, sum, sun, such, much, tuck, luck, trouble.
u. —Fur, hurt, burn,
curl, spurn. turn,
u.—Full, push, bush.
bull,

01, oy. — boy,

Oil, point, voice, noise, boiler, joy, alloy,
ou, ow. —Our, cloud, owl, now, bow, couch.
sour,

SUBVOCALS.
Let the sound of each letter be given, and not its name. After articu
lating the sounds, each word should be pronounced distinctly.

b. —Be, by, boy, bib, sob, bite, bone, band, bubble,

d. —Deed, did, dab, bid, bud, dead, door, indeed,
g.— Go, gag, gig, bag, beg, fog, fig, girl, rag, log.
j.—Jay, joy, jig, gill, job, judge, ginger, soldier.
1.—Lad, led, dell, mill, line, lily, folly,
—
m. Me, my, mad, mug, him, aim, blame,
n. —No, now, nab, nod, man, sun, none, noun,
r. (rough) —Rear, red, rough, riot, ripe, rude, ragged,
r. (smooth) —Form, farm, worn, for, ear, manner.
14 ECLECTIC SERIES.

v. —Van, vine, vale, vivid, stove, Stephen. of,

w. —We, woe, web, wed, wig, wag, wood, will, wonder.

y. —Ye, yam, yon, yarn, yoke, yawn,
yes, filial.

z.—Zag, zone,
rose, rise, lives, stars, suffice.

zh. —Azure, usual, measure, rouge

osier, (roozh).

th. — Thee, thy, them, beneath, those.

blithe,
ng.—Bang, fang, gang, bring, sing, fling.

ASPIRATES.
f.—Fib, beef,
fob, buff, phrase, laugh.
if, off, life,

h. — Ha, he, hub, had, how, home, horse.

hill, hire,

k. — bake,
Kill, cow, come, chord, black.
cat,

p. —Pop, map, pipe, pope, apple, path,

pig, lip, pile.

s.— Sad, miss, cent, cease,

fuss, sound, sincere.
sick,

t.— Hat, mat, time,

toe, totter, tint, taught. sleet,

sh. — Dash, shad, rush, sure, ocean, notion, passion, chaise.

Ch. — Chin, chop, chat, rich, much, church, bastion.
th. — Thin, hath, think, teeth, truth, breath, pith

SUBVOCALS COMBINED.
Utter the sounds only, and pronounce very distinctly.

br.— Bred, brag, brow, brim, brush, breed, brown,

bz, bst.— Fibs, robs,
fib'st, rubs, rob'st, rub'st.

bd, bdst. —Fibbed, sobbed,

fib'd'st, robbed, sob'd'st, rob'd'st,

bl.—Blab, blow, bluff, bliss, stable, babble, gobble,

biz, —Fables,
blst. fabl'st, nibbles, nibbl'st.
bid, bldst.— Fabled, fabl'd'st, nibbled, nibbl'd'st.

dr. —Drab, drip, drop, drag, drum, dress, drink,

dz, dst. —Rids, adds,
rid'st, add'st, sheds, shed'st.
dl. —Addle, paddle, fiddle, riddle, needle, idle, ladle,

dlz, dlst— Addles, addl'st, fiddles, fiddl'st.

did.—Addled, fiddled, huddled, idled, ladled.

 FOURTH READER. 15

:
fr. —Fret, frog, from, fry, fresh, frame, free.
fs, fst.— Cuffs, cuff'st, stuffs, stuff'st, doffs, doff'st.

!
ft. — Lift, waft, drift, graft, soft, theft, craft, shaft.
fts, ftst. — Lifts, lift'st, wafts, waft'st, sifts, sift'st.

—
J

!
fl. Baffle, raffle, shufflle, muffle, rifle, trifle, whiffle.
fls, fist. — Baffles, baffl'st, shuffles, shuffl'st, rifles, rifl'st.

I
fid, fldst.— Baffled, baffl'd'st, shuffled, shuffl'd'st.

gr. — Grab, grim, grip, grate, grant, grass, green.

—Begs,
\

gz, gst. beg'st, digs, dig'st, gags, gag'st.

gd, gdst. —Begged, begg'd'st, digged, digg'd'st.
—Higgle, joggle,
gl. straggle, glib, glow, glaze.
; glz, gist.—Higgles, higgl'st, juggles, juggl'st.

gld, gldst. — Higgled, higgl'd'st, joggled, joggl'd'st.

jd. — Caged, hedged, bridged, lodged, judged, waged.

! kr. — Cram, crag, crash, crop, cry, crone, crown. creel,

!
kw, (qu). — Quell, quick, quote, quake, queen.
quite,
ks, kst, (x). —Kicks, mix, mixed, box, boxed.
kick'st,

kt, kts. —Act, acts, fact, facts, tact, tacts, sect, sects.

!
kl. — Clad, clown, clean,
clip, cackle, close, pickle.
klz, klst. — Cackles, buckles,
cackl'st, buckl'st.
I kid, kldst. — Cackled, buckled,
cackl'd'st, buckl'd'st.

If.— Elf, Kalph, shelf, gulf, sylph, wolf.

—Hold, mold,
Id. mild,
bold, cold, wild, field, yield.

I
— Holds,
}ldz, ldst. hold'st, gilds, gild'st, yields, yield'st.

t, lz,1st.— Fills, fill'st, pulls, pull'st, drills, drill'st.

It, —Melt, melts,
Its. tilt, tilts, salt, salts, bolt, bolts.
mz, mst. —Names, nam'st, hems, hem'st, dims, dim'st.
md, mdst. —Named, nam'd'st, dimmed, dimm'd'st.

nd. — And, lend, band, blonde, fund, bound, round, sound.

—Lends,
!ndz, ndst. lend'st, hand, hand'st.
— Handle, kindle,
jndl. fondle, trundle, brindle.
jndlz, ndlst. —Handles, handl'st, kindles, kindl'st.
ilndld,ndldst. —Handled, handl'd'st, kindled, kindl'd'st.
16 ECLECTIC SERIES.

—
nks, nkst. Banks, bank'st, sinks, sink'st.
—
nkd. Banked, clank'd, winked, thank'd, flank'd.

nz, nst. —Wins, winst, tans, tan'st, runs, run'st.

nt, nts. —Hint, hints, cent, cents, want, wants,

nch, nchd.—Pinch, pinch'd, blanch, blanch'd.

—
ngz, ngd. Hangs, hang'd, rings, ring'd.
nj, njd. —
Kange, ranged, hinge, hinged.

pr. —Prat, prim, prone, prune, pry, prank,

print,
pi.—Plant, plod, plum, apple,
plus, cripple,

ps, pst. —Nips, nip'st, mops, mop'st.

taps, tap'st,
pt, pts. —Adopt, adopts, adept, adepts, crypt, crypts.

rj, —Merge, merged, charge, charged, urge, urged,

rjd.
rd. —Card, cord, curd, herd, ward, ford, bird,

rdz, rdst. — Cards, herds,

card'st, cords, herd'st, cord'st.

rk. —Bark, jerk, cork, lurk, work,

dirk,
rks, rkst. —Barks, bark's t, lurks, lurk'st.
rl.—Marl, whirl,
curl, whorl,
pearl, snarl,

rlz, rlst.—Curls, whirls,

curl'st, whirl'st, twirls, twirl'st.

rid, rldst. — Curled, whirled,

cuii'd'st, snarled,
whirl'd'st,
snarl'd'st.

—
rm. Arm, term, form, warm, storm, worm, sperm.
—
rmz, rmst. Arms, arm'st, forms, form'st.
—
rmd, rmdst. Armed, arm'd'st, formed, form'd'st.
rn. —Barn, warn, worn, earn, turn.
scorn,
rnz, rnst.—Turns, turn'st, scorns, scorn'st.
rnd, rndst. —Turned, scorned,
turn'd'st, scorn'd'st.
rt.— Dart, heart, hurt.
pert, sort, girt, dirt,
—Darts,
rts, rtst. hurts,
dart'st, girts, girt'st, hurt'st.
rch, rend. — Arch, arched, perch, perched.

sk. —Ask, scab, skum, bask, husk.

skip, risk,
sks. — Asks, tasks, risks, whisks, husks.
skd, skst. — Asked, ask'st, risked, risk'st, husked, husk'st.
sp, sps. — Gasp, gasps, rasp, rasps, crisp, crisps.
 FOURTH READER. 17

spd. — Gasped, lisped, crisped, wisped, cusped.

st, sts. —Mast, masts, nest, nests, fist, fists,

sw. —Swim, swell, swill, swan, sweet, swing, swam,

str. —Strap, strip, strop, stress, strut, strife, strew.

tl. —Eattle, nettle, whittle, bottle, hurtle, scuttle.

tlz, tlst. — Battles, rattl'st, nettles, nettl'st.

tld, tldst. —Rattled, rattl'd'st, settled, settl'd'st.

ts, tst. —Bat, bat'st, bets, bet'st, pits, pit'st, dots, dot'st.

tw. —Twin, twice, tweed,

twirl, twelve, twist, twain.
tr.—Trap, trip, trot, tress, truss, trash, try, truce, trice.
vz, —Gives,
vst. lo^st, saves,
giv'st, loves, sav'st.

zm, zmz. — Chasm, chasms, prism, prisms.

zl. — Dazzle, frizzle, nozzle, puzzle.
zlz, zld. —Dazzles, dazzled, frizzles, frizzled.
sht.—Dashed, meshed, dished, rushed, washed.
shr. — Shrank, shred, shrill, shrunk, shrine, shroud, shrew.
thd. —Bathed, sheathed, soothed, smoothed, wreathed.
thz, thzt. — Bathes, bath'st, sheathes, sheath'st.

ngz, ngst. —
Hangs, hang'st, brings, bring'st.
—
ngd, ngdst. Hanged, hang'd'st, stringed, string'd'st.
—
nks, nkst. Thanks, thank'st, thinks, think'st.
—
nkd, nkdst. Thanked, thank'd'st, kinked, kink'd'st.
dth, dths. —
Width, widths, breadth, breadths.
kid, kldst. — Circled, darkle,
circl'd'st, darkl'd'st.
kl, klz. — Circle, circles, cycle, cycles.
lj, ljd.—Bilge, bulge, bulged, indulge,
bilged, indulged.
lb, Ibz. —Alb, bulb, bulbs.
albs,
Ik, Iks, lkst, Ikdst.— Milk, milks, milk'st, milk'd'st.

lm, lmz. —Elm, elms, whelm, whelms, film, films,

lp, lpd, lpst, lpdst.— Help, helped, help'st, help'd'st.
lv, lvz, lvd. — Valve, valves, valved, delve, delves, delved,
leh, lend. —Belch, belched, gulch,
filch, filched, gulched.
1th, lths.—Health, healths, tilth, tilths.
(4. 2.)
18 ECLECTIC SERIES.

mf, mfs. —Nymph, nymphs, triumph, triumphs,

gth, gths. — Length, lengths, strength, strengths,
rb, rbz, rbd, rbst, rbdst. — Curb, curbs, curbed, curb'st,
curb'd'st.

rf, rfs, rfst, rfdst. —Dwarf, dwarfs, dwarf'st, dwarfd'st.

rv, rvz, rvst, rvd, rvdst. —Curve, curves, curv'st, curved,

curv'd'st.

rth, rths. —Birth, births, girth, girths, hearth, hearths,

rp, rps, rpd, rpst, rpdst. —Harp, harps, harped, harp'st,
harp'd'st.

rs, rst. — Nurse, nursed, verse, versed, course, coursed.

thr. —Thrash, thresh, thrift, throb, thrush, thrust, throng,

three, thrive, thrice, throat, throne, throve, thrill,

thrum.

thw. —Thwack, thwart.

EXERCISES IN ARTICULATION.

Errors to be Corrected.

To Teachers.— In the following exercises, the more common errors in

articulation and pronunciation are denoted. The letters in italics are
letters, but are thus marked to point them out as the represent-
not silent
atives of sounds which are apt to be defectively articulated, omitted,
or incorrectly

INCORRECT. CORRECT. INCORRECT. CORRECT.

Fa-t'l for fa-tal. Sep-er-ate for sep-a-rate.
reel " re-ol. tem-per-wnce " tem-per-ance.
ras-cwl " ras-cal. wp-pear " ap-pear.
crit-ic-wl " crit-ic-al. tem-per-t't " tem-per-ate.
test'ment " tes-ta-ment. mod-er-it " mod-er-ate.
firm'ment " fir-ma-ment. in-ti-mit " in-ti-mate.
 FOURTH READER. 19

E
INCORRECT. CORRECT. INCORRECT. CORRECT.
Ev'ry for ev-er-y. sev'ral for sev-er-al.
b'lief " be-lief. prov-i-dMnce prov-i-dence.
pr'vail " pre-vail. ev-i-dMnce ev-i-dence.
r'tain " re-tain. si-l^nt si-lent
trav'ler " trav-el-er. mon-u-mwnt mon-u-ment
flut'ring " flut-ter-ing, con-ti-n«nt con-ti-nent.
tel'scope " tel-e-scope. con-fi-dwnt con-fi-dent

INCORRECT. CORRECT. INCORRECT. CORRECT.

D'rect for direct. rad'cal for rad-fcal.
d'spose " dis-pose. sal'vate n sal-i-vate.
van'ty " van-i-ty. can'bal a can-m'-bal.
ven-t'late " ven-fa'-late. mount'n mount-am.
ju-b'lee " ju-bi-lee. fount'n " fount-am.
rid'cule " rid-i-cule. vill'ny u vil-lam-y.

O
INCORRECT. CORRECT. INCORRECT. CORRECT.
Des'late for des-o-late. rhet-er-ic for rhet-o-ric.
hist'ry " his-to-ry. in-ser-lent in-so-lent.
" «
mem'ry mem-o-ry. croc-wd-ile croc-o-dile.
col'ny " col-o-ny. com-pr?/m-ise com-pro-mise.
" «
ag'ny ag-o-ny. anch-wr-ite anch-o-rite.
" u
balc'ny bal-co-ny. cor-per-al cor-po-ral.
ob-s'lete " ob-lwq-quy « ob-lo-quy.
ob-so-lete.
wil-ler " wil-low. or-ther-dox
u or-tho-dox.
wid-der " wid-ow. cwn-di-tion
11
con-di-tion.
pil-ler " pil-low. pws-i-tion
««
po-si-tion.
mead-er " mead-ow. twg-eth-er to-geth-er.
fel-ler " fel-low. ptit-a-ter po-ta-to.
win-der " win-dow. tuh-suc-cur « to-bac-co.
20 ECLECTIC SERIES.

The most common mistake in the sound of u occurs in words of the

following kind : as, crea-ter or crea-choor, for creat-ure ; na-to- or na-
choor, for nat-itre, etc.

INCORRECT. CORRECT. PRONOUNCED.

Lec'-ter or lec'-choor for lect'-ure, leot'-yur.

fea'-ter or fea'-choor feature, feat'-yur.

mois'-ter or mois'-choor moist'-ure, moist'-yur.

ver'-der or ver'-jer verd'-ure, verd'-yur.

« mixt'-ure, mixt'-yur.
mix'-ter or mix'-cher
a rupt'-ure, rupt'-yur.
rup'-ter or rup'-cher
sculp'-ter or sculp'-cher sculpt'-ure, seulpt'-yur.
« gesture, gest'-yur.
ges'-ter or ges'cher
ei
struc'-ter or struc'-cher structure, struet'-yur.
stric'-ter or stric'-choor
« stricture, striot'-yur.
(i
ves'-ter or ves'-cher vest'-ure, vest'-yur.
tex'-ter or tex'-cher text'-ure, text'-yur.
((
fix'-ter or fix'-cher fixture, fixt'-yur.
vul'-ter or vuF-cher vult'-ure, vult'-yur.
for'-ten or for'-choon
a fort'-une, fort'-yune.
stat'-er or sta'-choor stat'-ure, stat'-yur.
stat'-ew or sta'-choo
a statue, stat'-yu.
u
stat'-ewt or sta'-choot stat'-ute, stat'-yute.
ed'-di-cate or ed'-ju-cate ed'-u-cate, ed'-yu-cate.

H
In order to accustom the learner to sound H properly, let him pro-
nounce certain words without and then with it; as aft, Ziaft ;
ail, Aail,
etc. The H
should be clearly sounded.

Aft . . .Haft. Edge . . . . .Hedge.

Ail . . . . . Bail Eel . . . . . Heel.
Air . . . . . i?air. Ell . . . . . Hell
All . . . . . Ball Elm . . . . . Helm.
Ark . . . . . .Hark. Eye . . . . . High.
Arm . . . . . Harm.. Ill . . . . . Hill
Art . . . . . TTart. It . . . . . Hit.
Ash . . . . . Bash. Old . . . . . Hold.
At . . . . . Bat. Yew . . . . . .Hew.
 FOURTH READER. 21

D Final.

INCORRECT. CORRECT. INCORRECT. CORRECT.

An for and Men for friend
lan land soun sound
" mind
mine groun ground
boun « bound «
fiel field

K Final.

INCORRECT. CORRECT. INCORRECT. CORRECT.

Fris for fris&. dus for dus&.
des desk. mos mosque.
ti
tas task. tus tusk.
tt
ris risk. hus hus&.

N for Ng.
INCORRECT. CORRECT. INCORRECT. CORRECT.
Morn-in for morn-in<7. shav-in for shav-in^.
1
run-nin run-niD^. hid-in hid-in^.
talk-in a talk-in^. see-in
tc
see-in^.
tt
;
walk-in walk-in^. lov-in lov-in^.
tt
! drink-in drink-in^. fight-in fight-in^.
slid-in slid-in^. laugh-in laugh-in^.

R
Sound the R clearly and forcibly. When it precedes a vowel, give it
a slight trill.

pule. ruin. rat. rug. reck.

reed. rill. rub. rig. rim. rite.

ride. rise. red. rag. rick. rote.

run. reek. rib. rob. rip. ruse.
roar. roam. rack. rid. ripe. rouse.

Arch. farm. lark. far. snare. tor.

inarch. barm. bark. bar. spare. war.
larch. charm mark. hair. sure. corn.
Starch.
(
dark. are. stair. lure. born.
jarm. spark star. care. pure. horn.
22 ECLECTIC SERIES.

T Final.

INCOEBECT. COBBECT. INCOEBECT. COBBECT.

Eas for east. wep for wep£.

moce most. ob-jec ob-jec£.
tt a
los lost. per-fec per-fec^.
tt tt
nes nest. dear-es dear-esi.

gues tt
gues£. high-es high-es^.

TS Final.

INCOEBECT. COBBECT. INCORRECT. CORRECT.

Hoce for hosts. see's for sects.

«
tes tests. bus busts.
«
lif's Hits. cense cents.

tuff's
« tufts. ob-jec's ob-jecfe.
tt
ac's acts. re-spec's re-spec^s.

W fin Wh.
INCORRECT. CORRECT. INCOEBECT. COEBECT.

Wale for WAale. Wet for WAet.

Weal Wheel Wine tt
WAine.
Wen tt
When. Wip tt
WAip.

SENTENCES FOR PRACTICE.

Sentences like the following may be read with great advantage, for
the purpose of acquiring distinctness and precision in articulation.

This act, more than all other acts, laid the ax at the root
of the evil. It is false to say he had no other faults.
The hosts still stand in strangest plight. That last still
night. That lasts till night. On either side an ocean
exists. Oh neither side a notion exists. Among the rugged
rocks the restless ranger ran. I said pop-u-lar, not pop'lar.
I said pre-vail, not pr'vail. I said be-hold, not b'hold.
Think'st thou so meanly of my P/iocion? Henceforth loofc
to your hearths. Canst thou minister to a mind diseased?
A thousand shrieks for hopeless mercy call.
 FOURTH READER. 23

ACCENT.
Accent, marked thus ('), is an increased force of voice
upon some one syllable of* a word; as,

CoFo-ny, bot/a-ny; re-mem'ber, im-port'ant rec-ol-lect', rep- ;

re-sent'.In the words coVo-ny and bot'a-ny, the first syllable is

accented. In the words re-memfber and im-porfant, the second
syllable is accented. In the words rec-ol-lect' and rep-re-sent',
the third syllable is accented.

INFLECTION.
Inflection is an upward or downward slide of the voice.

The Rising Inflection, sometimes marked thus ('), is an

upward slide of the voice.

EXAMPLES.
4
Has he come'? To be read thus: . Has he cotfl el
Has he gone'? Has he goa®*
Are you sick'? Are you
Will you go'? Will you g^
Are they here'? Are they betel

The Falling Inflection, marked thus is a downward

slide of the voice.

EXAMPLES.

They are here\ to be read thus: . They are here

He has gone*" He has gone.
He has come
v
He has come.
I will go* I will go.
I am weir I am well.
24 ECLECTIC SERIES.
Let the pupil practice these examples until he is perfectly
familiar with the rising and falling inflections.

Are you or tyl WiU you or V?

Did he ^ or ^4? Is it
cV,
\>> or^e ?

Is he or "V? Are they ^ or

Did you say o^ or

1
? I said % not

Did you say ^ or ? I said ^ not

N
Is the dog white', or black The dog
? is black\ not
N
white'. Did you say and', or hand ? I said and\ not
hand'. Is the tree large', or smalP? The tree is small\
v
not large'. Are the apples sweet', or sour ?The apples
are sour\ not sweet'. Is the tide high', or low^? The tide
is high\ not low'. Did you say play', or pray^? I said
pray\ not play'.
 I. PERSEVERANCE.

1. "Will you give my kite a lift?" said my little

nephew to his sister, after trying in vain to make it fly

by dragging it along the ground. Lucy very kindly
took it up and threw it into the air, but, her brother
neglecting to run off at the same moment, the kite
fell down again.
(25)
26 ECLECTIC SERIES.

2. "Ah! now, how awkward you are!" said the little

fellow. "It was your fault entirely," answered his sis-

ter. "Try again, children," said I.

3. Lucy once more took up the kite. But now John
was in too great a hurry; he ran off so suddenly that
he twitched the kite out of her hand, and it fell flat as
before. "Well, who is to blame now?" asked Lucy.
"Try again," said I.
4. They
did, and with more care; but a side wind
coming suddenly, as Lucy let go the kite, it was blown
against some shrubs, and the tail became entangled in a
moment, leaving the poor kite hanging with its head
downward.
5. "There, there!" exclaimed John, "that comes of

your throwing it all to one side." "As if I could

make wind blow straight," said Lucy. In the
the
meantime, I went to the kite's assistance; and having
disengaged the long tail, I rolled it up, saying, "Come,
children, there are too many trees here; let us find a
more open space, and then try again."
6. We presently found a nice grass-plot, at one side of
which I took my stand; and all things being prepared,
I tossed the kite up just as little John ran off. It rose
with all the dignity of a balloon, and promised a lofty
flight; but John, delighted to find it pulling so hard at
the string, stopped short to look upward and admire.
The string slackened, the kite wavered, and, the wind
not being very favorable, down came the kite to the
grass. "O John, you should not have stopped," said I.

"However, try again."

7. "I won't try any more," replied he, rather sul-
lenly. "It is of no use, you see. The kite won't fly,
and I don't want to be plagued with it any longer."
" Oh, fie, my little man would you give up the sport,
!
 FOURTH READER. 27

after all the pains we have taken both to make and to

fly the kite? A few disappointments ought not to dis-
courage us. Come, I have wound up your string, and
now try again."
8. And
he did try, and succeeded, for the kite was
carried upward on the breeze as lightly as a feather;
and when the string was all out, John stood in great
Jdelight, holding fast the stick and gazing on the kite,

which now seemed as a little white speck in the blue

sky. "Look, look, aunt, how high it flies! and it
pulls like a team of horses, so that I can hardly hold
it. I wish I had a mile of string: I am sure it would
go to the end of it."

9. After enjoying the sight as long as he pleased,

ilittle John proceeded up the string slowly; and
to roll
jwhen the kite fell, up with great glee, say-
he took it

jing that it was not at all hurt, and that it had be-

haved very well. " Shall we come out to-morrow, aunt,

jafter lessons, and try again?"

10. "I have no objection, my dear, if the weather

is fine. And now, as we walk home, tell me what
you have learned from your morning's sport." " I
have learned to fly my kite properly." " You may
thank aunt for it, brother," said Lucy, " for you would
have given it up long ago, if she had not persuaded
you to try again."
I 11. "Yes, dear children, I wish to teach you the
value of perseverance, even when nothing more de-
pends upon it than the flying of a kite. Whenever
you fail in your attempts to do any good thing, let
your motto be, try again."

Definitions. — In defining words, that meaning is given

Iwhich is appropriate to them in the connection in which they
are used.
 ;

28 ECLECTIC SERIES.
4. En-tan'gled, twisted in, disordered. 5. As-sist'ance, help, aid.
Dis-en-gaged', cleared, set free. 6. Grass'-plot, a space covered with
grass. Dig'ni-ty, majestic manner. 7. Dis-ap-point'ments, fail-
ures or defeats of expectation. Dis-cour'age, take away courage.
9. Glee, jog. 11. Per-se-ver'ance, continuance in any thing once
begun. MSt'to, a short sentence or a word full of meaning.

—
Exercises. What is the subject of this lesson? Why was
John discouraged in his attempts to fly his kite? What did
his aunt say to him? What may we learn from this? What
should be our motto if we expect to be successful?

II. TRY, TRY AGAIN.

1. 'Tis a lesson you should heed,

Try, try again
If at first you don't succeed,
Try, try again;
Then your courage should appear,
For, if you will persevere,
You will conquer, never fear;
Try, try again.

2. Once or twice though you should fail,

Try, try again;

If you would at last prevail,
Try, try again;
If we strive, 'tis no disgrace
Though we do not win the race;
What should you do in the case?
Try, try again.

3. If you find your task is hard,

Try, try again;
 FOURTH READER. 29

Time will bring you your reward,

Try, try again.
All that other folks can do,
Why, with patience, should not you?
Only keep this rule in view:
Try, try again.

Definitions. — 1. Courage, resolution. CSn/quer, gain the vic-

\tory. 2. Pre-vaiF, overcome. Dis-grace', shame. Win, gain, ob-

tain. 3. Re-ward7 any,
thing given in return for good or bad con-
\duct. Pa'-tienge, constancy in labor.

Exercises. —What does the mark before " 'T is " mean ?
What is it called? What point is used after the word "case"
in the second verse? Why?

III. WHY THE SEA IS SALT.

A -Fairy Tale.

]
Mary Howitt was born in 1804, at Coleford, England. She has written
many charming stories for children in prose and verse, and has also
translated many from Swedish, Danish, and German authors. This
story is arranged from one in a collection named " Peter Drake's Dream,
and Other Stories."

1. There were, in very ancient times, two brothers,

one of whom was rich, and the other poor. Christmas
was approaching, but the poor man had nothing in
the house for a Christmas dinner; so he went to his
brother and asked him for a trifling gift.
% The rich man was ill-natured, and when he heard
his brother's request he looked very surly. But as
Christmas is a time when even the worst people give
gifts, he took a fine ham down from the chimney,

where it was hanging to smoke, threw it at his

brother, and bade him begone and never to let him
see his face again.
30 ECLECTIC SERIES.

3. The poor man thanked

his brother for the ham,
put under his arm, and went his way. He had to
it

pass through a great forest on his way home. When

he had reached the thickest part of it, he saw an old
man, with a long, white beard, hewing timber. "Good
evening," said he to him.
4. "Good evening," returned the old man, raising

himself up from his work, and looking at him.

"That is a fine ham you are carrying." On this, the
poor man told him all about it.
5. "It is lucky for you," said the old man, "that

you have met with me. If you will take that ham
into the land of the dwarfs, the entrance to which lies
just under the roots of this tree, you can make a cap-
ital bargain with it; for the dwarfs are very fond of

ham, and rarely get any. But mind what I say: you
must not sell it for money, but demand for it the ' old
hand-mill which stands behind the door/ When you
come back, I'll show you how to use it."
6. The poor man thanked his new friend, who
showed him the door under a stone below the roots of
the tree, and by this door he entered into the land of
the dwarfs. No sooner had he set his foot in it, than
the dwarfs swarmed about him, attracted by the smell
of the ham. They offered him queer, old-fashioned
money and gold and silver ore for it; but he refused
all their tempting offers, and said that he would sell

it only for the old hand-mill behind the door.

7. At this, the dwarfs held up their little old hands,

and looked quite perplexed. " We can not make a
bargain, it seems," said the poor man, "so I'll bid you
all a good day."
8. The fragrance of the ham had by this time
reached the remote parts of dwarf-land. The dwarfs
 FOURTH READER. 31

came flocking around in little troops, leaving their

|
work of digging out precious ores, eager for the ham.
j
9. " Let him have the old mill," said some of the

j
new-comers; "it is quite out of order, and he don't
j
know how to use it. Let him have it, and we will
Jiave the ham."
j j
10. The poor man took
So the bargain was made.
3 the old hand-mill, which was a little thing not half so
j
large as the ham, and went back to the woods. Here
the old man showed him how to use it. All this had

I
taken up a great deal of time, and it was midnight
before he reached home.
B

,
11, "Where in the world have you been?" said his
s

Jj wife. " Here I have been waiting and waiting, and

|
we have no wood to make a fire, nor any thing to put
j
jnto the porridge-pot for our Christmas supper."
j I
The house was dark and cold; but the poor
12.

in
nan bade his wife wait and see what would happen.
He placed the little hand-mill on the table, and began
jo turn the crank. First, out there came some grand,
10

ighted wax-candles, and a fire on the hearth, and a por-

i
i ridge-pot boiling overit, because in his mind he said

lD
hey should come first. Then he ground out a table-
loth, and dishes, and spoons, and knives and forks,
I

j 13. He was himself astonished at his good luck, as

E(
|
r
ou may believe; and his wife was almost beside her-
jelf with joy and astonishment. Well, they had a
|
apital supper; and after it was eaten, they ground

j,
ut of the mill every possible thing to make their
; ouse and themselves warm and comfortable. So they
iad a merry Christmas eve and morning.
00

Definitions.— 1. Trifling, of small value. 5. H&nd'-mill, a

ne nil turned by hand. 6. At-traet/ed, drawn to, allured. 7. Per-
/
[|
|l6xed ,
puzzled. 8. Fra/granye, sweetness of smell.
32 ECLECTIC SERIES.

IV. WHY THE SEA IS SALT.

(Concluded.)

1. When the people went by the house to church

the next day, they could hardly believe their eyes
There was glass in the windows instead of a wooder
shutter, and the poor man and his wife, dressed in nice
new clothes, were seen devoutly kneeling in the church
2. "There is something very strange in all this/

said every one. "Something very strange indeed/

said the rich man, when three days afterwards he re
ceived an invitation from his once poor brother to i

grand feast. And what a feast it was! The tabh

was covered with a cloth as white as snow, and th(
dishes were all of silver or gold. The rich man coulc
not, in his great house, and with all his wealth, se
out such a table.
3. "Wheredid you get all these things?" ex-
claimed he. His brother told him all about the bar
gain he had made with the dwarfs, and putting th<
mill on the table, ground out boots and shoes, coati
and cloaks, stockings, gowns, and blankets, and bad*
his wife give them to the poor people that had gath
ered about the house to get a sight of the grand feas
the poor brother had made for the rich one.
4. The rich man was very envious of his brother'
good fortune, and wanted to borrow the mill, intend
—
ing for he was not an honest man never to returi —
it again. His brother would not lend it, for the ol<
man with the white beard had told him never to sel
or lend it to any one.
5. Some years went on, and, at last, the possesso

of the mill built himself a grand castle on a rock b;

 FOURTH READER. 33

the sea, facing the west. Its windows, reflecting the

golden sunset, could be seen far out from the shore.
It became a noted landmark for sailors. Strangers
jfrom foreign parts often came to see this castle and
1 i
the wonderful mill of which the most extraordinary
]
tales were told.
n
6. At length, a great foreign merchant came, and
(
when he had seen the mill, inquired whether it would
1
grind salt. Being told that itwould, he wanted to
buy it; for he traded in salt, and thought that if he
1 owned it he could supply all his customers without
taking long and dangerous voyages.
7. The man would not it, of course. He was sell

so rich now want to use it for himself;

that he did not
-but every Christmas he ground out food and clothes
1
jand coal for the poor, and nice presents for the little
;!
children. So he rejected all the offers of the rich
merchant. The merchant, however, determined to
!"
jhave he bribed one of the man's servants to let
it ;

•'
him go into the castle at night, and he stole the mill
lf
'and sailed away with it in triumph.

1
8. He had scarcely got out to sea, before he de-
\ termined to set the mill to work. "Now, mill, grind
salt," said he; "grind salt with all your might! —
8
Salt, salt, and nothing but salt!" The mill began to
grind and the sailors to fill the sacks; but these were
I

isoon full, and in spite of all that could be done, it

! began to fill the ship.

II
9. The merchant was now very much
dishonest
1 frightened. What was
to be done? The mill would
d not stop grinding; and at last the ship was over-
loaded, and down it went, making a great whirlpool
» where it sank. The ship soon went to pieces; but the
mill stands on the bottom of the sea, and keeps
r grind-
b
'

(4.-3.)
34 ECLECTIC SERIFS.

ing out "salt, salt, nothing but salt!" That is the

reason, say the peasants of Denmark and Norway,
why the sea is salt.

Definitions. — 1. De-vout'ly, in a reverent manner. 5. Ke-

fleet'ing, throwing back light, heat, etc., as a mirror. Land-
mark, an object on land serving as a guide to seamen. Ex-traor'-
di-na-ry, wonderful. 9. Whirr-pool, a gulf in which the water
moves round in a circle. PSas/ants, those belonging to the lowest
class of tillers of the soil in Europe.

Exercises.— What is a "fairy tale?" What fairy people

are told about in this story? How did the poor man find the
way to the land of the dwarfs? Do you think the old man
would have told him if the poor man had not been so polite?
How did the poor man treat his rich brother in return for his
unkindness? How was the greed of the dishonest merchant
punished? What is meant by ''strangers from foreign parts?"
Where are Denmark and Norway?

V. POPPING CORN.

1. One autumn night, when the wind was high,

And the rain fell in heavy plashes,
A boy sat by the kitchen fire,
little

A-popping corn in the ashes;

And his sister, a curly-haired child of three,
Sat looking on, just close to his knee.

2. Pop! pop! and the kernels, one by one,

Came out of the embers flying;
The boy held a long pine stick in his hand,
And kept it busily plying;
He stirred the corn, and it snapped the more,
And faster jumped to the clean-swept floor.
 FOURTH READER. 35

3. Part of the kernels flew one way,

And a part hopped out the other;
Some flew plump into the sister's lap,
Some under the stool of the brother;
The little girl gathered them into a heap,
And called them a flock of milk-white sheep.

VI. SMILES.

1. Poor lame Jennie sat at her window, looking

5ut upon the dismal, narrow street, with a look of
3ain and weariness on her face. "Oh, dear," she said
jwith a sigh, "what a long day this is going to be," and

she looked wishfully up the street.

 ECLECTIC SERIES.

2.Suddenly she leaned forward and pressed her pale

face against the glass, as a rosy-cheekedboy came rac-
ing down the street, swinging his school-books by the
strap. Looking up to the window, he took off his hat
and bowed with a bright, pleasant smile.
3. " What a nice boy he is," said Jennie to herself,

as he ran out of sight. "I am so glad he goes by

here on his way to school. When he smiles it seems
like having the sun shine. I wish every body who
goes by would look up and smile."
4. "Mamma," said George West, as he came from
school, "I can't help thinking about that poor little

girl I told you of the other day. She looks so tired.

I took off my hat and bowed to her to-day. I wish

I could do something for her."
5. " Suppose you should carry her a handful of
pretty flowers some time when you go to school," said
Mrs. West. "I'll do that to-morrow morning," said
George, "if I can find my way into that rickety old
house."
6. The next morning, as Jennie sat leaning her
head wearily against the window, watching the rain-
drops chasing one another down the glass, she spied
George with a handful of beautiful flowers carefully
picking his way across the street. He stopped in front
of her window, and, smiling very pleasantly, said,

"How shall I find the way to your room?"

7. Jennie pointed
to an alley near by, where he
turned and with some difficulty found his way to
in,

the dingy staircase. Opening the door to Jennie's

gentle " Come in," he said, " I have brought you a
handful of flowers to look at this rainy day."
8. "Are they for me?" exclaimed Jennie, clapping
her hands in delight. "How kind you are," she con-
 FOURTH READER. 37

them in her lap. " I have not

tinued, as George laid
had a flower since we lived in the city."
9. "Did you use to live in the country?" asked

j
George. " Oh, yes," answered Jennie, " we used to
!
live in a beautiful cottage, and there were trees and

,
flowers and green grass, and the air was so sweet."
10. "Well, what made you move here?" "Oh,"
i
j
said Jennie, softly, " papa died, and mamma was sick
) iso long that the money was all gone. Then mamma
had to sell the cottage, and she moved here to try to
l
j
get work to do."
3
j
11. "Do you have to sit here all day?" asked
,
George, glancing around the bare room and out into
i the dismal street. " Yes," said Jennie, " because I am
llame; but I would not care for that, if I could only
f I
help mamma."
1 12. "I declare, it's too bad!" said George, who
il dreaded nothing so much as being obliged to stay in
d |the house. "Oh, no, it isn't," said Jennie, pleasantly;
" mamma may be we should forget the Lord if
says
ii we had every thing we wanted, and He never forgets
i- us, you know."
d 13. "Well, I must rush for school," said George,
v jnot knowing exactly what to say next; and he was
it soon out of Jennie's sight, but had a happy little cor-
], ner in his heart, because he had tried to do a kind
act. He did not know how much good he had done
if
in making a pleasant day out of a dreary one for a
to little sick girl.
j's
14. " Mamma," said George, that evening, after he
a
had told her what Jennie said, "papa must give them
some money, so they can go back to their home."
jj!
15. "No," said his mother; "he can not do that,

e-
bind they would not wish him to do so ; but perhaps
88 ECLECTIC SERIES.

he can help us contrive some way to assist them, so

that they can live more comfortably."
16. " I am going to carry Jennie some of the grapes
grandpa sent me, to-morrow/' said George, turning
over the leaves of his geography. " I will put some
of my pears into your basket, and go with you," said
his mother; "but there is one thing we can always
give, and sometimes it does more good than nice
things to eat, or even money."
17. "What is that, mamma; smiles?" asked George,

looking up. " Yes," answered his mother ; ' and it is

a good plan to throw in a kind word or two with
them, when you can."

Definitions. — 1. Dismal, gloomy, cheerless. Wish'ful-ly, with

desire. 5. Rick'et-y, imperfect, worn out. 1. Dm'gy, dark. 11.
Glancing, looking about quickly. 13. Dreamy, comfortless, gloomy.
15. Con-trive', to plan.

—
Exercises. What is the subject of this lesson? How did
George West make the day pleasant for Jennie? What did
his mother suggest? What happened next day? What did
Jennie tell George about her life? Relate what happened at
George's home that evening. What does the lesson teach?

VII. LAZY NED.

1. "'Tis royal fun," cried lazy Ned,

" To coast upon my fine, new sled,
And beat the other boys;
But then, I can not bear to climb
The tiresome hill, for every time
It more and more annoys."
 FOURTH READER. 39

2. So, while his school-mates glided by,

And gladly tugged up hill, to try
Another merry race,
Too indolent to share their plays,
Ned was compelled to stand and gaze,
While shivering in his place.

3. Thus, he would never take the pains

To seek the prize that labor gains,
Until the time had passed
For, all his life, he dreaded still

The silly bugbear of up hill,

And died a dunce at last.

Definitions. — 1. Roy'al, excellent, noble. Coast, to slide. An-

noys/, troubles. 2. In / do-lent, lazy. 3. Prize, a reward. Bxig'-
bear, something frightful. Diince, a silly fellow.

Exeecises.— What did Ned like ? What did he not like ?

VIII. THE MONKEY.

1. The monkey is a very cunning little animal, and

is found in many parts of the world.
2. A had a monkey, which had been
lady once
brought to her as a present. This monkey, like all
others, was very fond of mischief and of doing what-
ever he saw others do.
3. His mistress found him one day sitting on her

toilet-table, holding in one hand a little china mug

with water in it, and in the other her tooth-brush,

with which he was cleaning his teeth, looking all the
time in the glass.
40 ECLECTIC SERIES.

4. Her little daughter, Maria, had a large doll with

a very handsome head and face. She one day left this
doll in the cradle, and went out of the room. The
monkey came in, took the doll in his arms, and jump-
ing upon the wash-
stand, he began to
wash its face.

5. He first rubbed
it all over with soap.
Then seizing the
towel, he dipped it in
the wash-bowl, and
rubbed it so hard
that the doll's face
was entirely spoiled,
the paint being all

washed off.
6. There have been

many tales of mon-

keys who, armed with
sticks, have joined to-
gether and made war
or resisted their enemies with great effect. This is not
true, as it is known that in their native state they
have no idea of weapons.
7. The and other missiles said to be thrown at
sticks
travelers as they pass under the branches of trees, are
usually the dead branches, etc., accidentally broken off,
as the monkeys, with the natural curiosity of their
tribe, pass along the tops of trees to watch the actions
of the people below.
8. They and
can, however, be taught to use a stick,
to use it well. Some time
two Italians together
ago,
owned an organ and a monkey, by means of which
 FOURTH READER. 41

they earned their living. During one of their exhibi-

tions, a dog flew at the little monkey, which made its
owners very angry.
! 9. owner of the dog quarreled about
They and the
it, and was agreed that the dog and the
at last it

monkey should fight it out; the monkey, because he

was smaller, was to be allowed a stick,
j
10. The monkey was taught what he was to do in the
following manner: One of the Italians crawled on his
lands and knees, barking like a dog, while the other
£ot on his back, grasped his hair, and beat him about

he head with a stick.

11. The monkey looked on with great gravity, and,

vhen the instruction was over, received the stick with
ihe air of a man who knew his work and meant to
lo it.

12. Every thing being settled the dog flew at the

^onkey with open mouth. The monkey immediately
eaped on his back, and, grasping the dog's ear, beat
,way at his head with such good will that his adver-
ary speedily gave in. The monkey, however, was not
ontent with a mere victory, but continued pounding
t the dog's head until he left him senseless on the
rround.

Definitions. — 1. Cun'ning, sly. 3. Toi'let-ta/ble, dressing

ible. 6. Re-gist'ed, opposed. 7. Mis'sileg, weapons thrown. 8.
/
iX-hi-bi tion§, public shows. 11. Gr&v'i-ty, seriousness. In-striie'-
ion, lesson. 12. Sense'less, without apparent life.

—
Exercises. What kind of an animal is a monkey? Where
lid the lady find the monkey one day? What was he doing?
jVhat did he do with Maria's doll? Do monkeys in their
ative state know how to use sticks as weapons? Can they be
aught to use them? Relate the story of the two Italians.
Vhat is the meaning of " etc." in the seventh verse ?
 ; '!

42 ECLECTIC SERIES.

IX. MEDDLESOME MATTY.

1. Oh, how one ugly trick has spoiled

The sweetest and the best!
Matilda, though a pleasant child,
One grievous fault possessed,
Which, like a cloud before the skies,
Hid all her better qualities.

2. Sometimes, she'd lift the tea-pot lid

To peep what was in it;
at
Or tilt thekettle, if you did
But turn your back a minute.
In vain you told her not to touch,
Her trick of meddling grew so much.

3. Her grandmamma went out one day,

And, by mistake, she laid
Her spectacles and snuff-box gay,
Too near the little maid;
"Ah! well," thought she, "I'll try them on,
As soon as grandmamma is gone."

4. Forthwith, she placed upon her nose

The glasses large and wide
And looking round, as I suppose,
The snuff-box, too, she spied.
" Oh, what a pretty box is this

I'll open it," said little miss.

5. " I know that grandmamma would say,

;
' Don't meddle with it, dear
But then she's far enough away,
And no one else is near;
 FOURTH READER. 48

Beside, what can there be amiss

In opening such a box as this?"

6. So,thumb and finger went to work

To move the stubborn lid;
And, presently, a mighty jerk
The mighty mischief did;
For all at once, ah! woful case!
•

The snuff" came puffing in her face.

7. Poor eyes, and nose, and mouth, and chin
A dismal sight presented;
And as the snuff got further in,
Sincerely she repented:
In vain she ran about for ease,
She could do nothing else but sneeze.

8. She dashed the spectacles away,

To wipe her tingling eyes;
And, as in twenty bits they lay,
Her grandmamma she spies.
"Heyday! and what's the matter now?"
Cried grandmamma, with angry brow.

9. Matilda, smarting with the pain,

j
And tingling still, and sore,
Made many a promise to refrain
From meddling evermore;
And 'tis a fact, as I have heard,
She ever since has kept her word.

Definitions. — 1. QuaFi tie§, traits of character. 2. M&d'-

;dling, interfering without right. 4. Forth-with', at once. Spied,
\saw. 5. A-miss', wrong, faulty. 6. Wo'ful, sad, sorrowful. 8.

Tin/gling, smarting. 9. Be-frain', to keep from.

j
Exercises. —What did Matilda do? How was she punished?
What effect did it have on her?
44 ECLECTIC SERIES.

X. THE GOOD SON.

1. Theee was once a jeweler, noted for many virt

ues. One day, the Jewish elders came to him to bir
some diamonds, put upon that part of the dress o:
to
their high-priest, which the Bible calls an ephod.
2. They told him what they wanted, and offere<
him a fair price for the diamonds. He replied tha
he could not them see the jewels at that moment
let

and requested them to call again.

3. As they wanted them without delay, and though

that the object of the jeweler was only to increase th

price of the diamonds, the elders offered him twict
then three times, as much as they were worth. Bu
he still refused, and they went away in very ba
humor.
4. Some hours after, he went to them, and place

before them the diamonds, for which they again offere

him the last price they had named; but he said, "
will only accept the first one you offered to me thi
morning."
5. "Why, then, did you not close with us at once?
asked they in surprise. " When
you came," replie
he, "my had the key of the chest, in which th
father
diamonds were kept, and as he was asleep, I shoul
have been obliged to wake him to obtain them.
6. "At his age, a short hour of sleep does him

great deal of good; and for all the gold in the work
I would not be wanting in respect to my father, c
take from him a single comfort."
7. The elders, affected by these feeling words, sprea

their hands upon the jeweler's head, and said, "Tho

shalt be blessed of Him who has said, i
Honor th
 FOURTH READER. 45

father and thy mother;' and thy children shall one

iday pay thee the same respect and love thou hast
ishown to thy father."

\ '
Definitions. — 1. Jew / el-er, one who buys and sells precious
) stones. Not'ed, well known. Eld / er, an officer of the Jewish
phurch. Eph'od, part of the dress of a Jewish priest, made of two

j
pieces, one covering the chest and the other the bach, united by a
girdle. 2. Di'a-monds^ precious stones. 3. Hu /
mor, state of mind,
femper. 5. Close, come to an agreement.
it

Exercises. —
Relate the story of the jeweler and his dia-
j
monds. What did the elders say to him, when they heard his
reason for not giving them the diamonds at first?

!(

XI. TO-MORROW.
*
j
Mrs. M. B. Johnson is the authoress of "To-morrow," one of a col-
Section of poems entitled "Poems of Home Life."

I
L. A bright, merry boy, with laughing face,

I
Whose every motion was full of grace,
;

Who knew no trouble and feared no care,

j
|
Was the light of our household —the youngest there.
I

it
I. He was too young, this little elf,

|
With troublesome questions to vex himself;
i But for many days a thought would rise,
ii And bring a shade to his dancing eyes.

%, He went to one whom he thought more wise

t
'j Than any other beneath the skies;
b !
—
"Mother," O word that makes the home!
I I
" Tell me, when will to-morrow come ?
 " —
46 ECLECTIC SERIES.
4. "It is almost night/' the mother said,
"And time for my boy to be in bed;
When you wake up and it's day again,
It will be to-morrow, my darling, then."

5. The little boy slept through all the night,

But woke with the first red streak of light;
He pressed a kiss to his mother's brow,
And whispered, " Is it to-morrow now ?

6. "No, little Eddie, this is to-day:

To-morrow is always one night away."
He pondered awhile, but joys came fast,
And this vexing question quickly passed.

1. But it came again with the shades of night;

"Will it be to-morrow when it is light?"
From years to come he seemed care to borrow,
He tried so hard to catch to-morrow.

8. "You can not catch it, my little Ted;

Enjoy to-day," the mother said;
"Some wait for to-morrow through many a year
It is always coming, but never is here."

Definitions. — 1. Ho use 'hold, family, those living in the same

house. 2. Elf, a small fairy-like person. Vex, worry, trouble.

6. PSn'dered, thought anxiously. A-whTle', for a short time.

Exercises. —What
is meant by "dancing eyes" in the second

verse ? meant by " the shades of night," in the seventh

What is

verse? Of what name are "Eddie" and "Ted" nicknames?

What troubled Eddie? Can you define to-morrow? What did
Eddie's mother advise him to do?
 FOURTH READER. 47

XII. WHERE THERE IS A WILL. THERE IS A WAY.

1. Henry Bond was about ten years old when his

father died. His mother found it difficult to provide
for the support of a large family, thus left entirely in
her care. By good management, however, she con-
trived to do so, and also to send Henry, the oldest,
to school, and to supply him, for the most part, with
such books as he needed.
2. At one time, however, Henry wanted a grammar,

in order to join a class in that study, and his mother

could not furnish him with the money to buy it. He
was very much troubled about it, and went to bed
with a heavy heart, thinking what could be done.
3. On waking in the morning, he found that a deep

snow had fallen, and the cold wind was blowing furi-
ously. "Ah," said he, "it is an ill wind that blows
nobody good."
4. He rose, ran to the house of a neighbor, and
path around his premises.
offered his service to clear a
The was accepted. Having completed this work,
offer
and received his pay, he went to another place for the
same purpose, and then to another, until he had earned
enough to buy a grammar.
5. When school commenced, Henry was in his seat,

the happiest boy there, ready to begin the lesson in

his new book.
6. From that time, Henry was always the first in all
his classes. He knew no such word as fail, but always
succeeded in all he attempted. Having the will, he
always found the way. .

Definitions. — 1. M&n'age-ment, manner of directing things.

2. Fur'nish, to supply. 3. Fu'ri-ous-ly, violently. 4. Serv'Ige,
[labor. Prem'i-seg, grounds around a house.
 — ;

48 ECLECTIC SERIES.

xni. PICCOLA.

By Celia r>aighton Thaxter, who was born at Portsmouth, N. H.,

June 29, 1835. Much of her childhood was passed at "White Island, one of
the Isles of Shoals, off the coast of New Hampshire. " Among the Isles
of Shoals " is her most noted work in prose. She has published a volume
of poems, many of which are favorites with children.

1. Pook, sweet Piccola! Did you hear

What happened to Piccola, children dear?
'Tis seldom Fortune such favor grants
As fell to this little maid of France.

2. 'Twas Christmas time, and her parents poor

Could hardly drive the wolf from the door,
Striving with poverty's patient pain
Only to live till summer again.

3. No gift for Piccola! sad were they

When dawned the morning of Christmas day!
Their little darling no joy might stir;
St. Nicholas nothing would bring to her!

4. But Piccola never doubted at all

That something beautiful must befall
Every child upon Christmas day,
And so she slept till the dawn was gray.
5. And full of faith, when at last she woke,
She stole to her shoe as the morning broke
Such sounds of gladness filled all the air,

'Twas plain St. Nicholas had been there.

6. In rushed Piccola, sweet, half wild

Never was seen such a joyful child
"See what the good saint brought!" she cried,
And mother and father must peep inside.
 !

FOURTH READER. 49

7. Now such a story I never heard

There was a little shivering bird!
A sparrow, that in at the window flew,
Had crept into Piccola's tiny shoe!

;
8. "How good poor Piccola must have been!"
i She happy as any queen,
cried, as
While the starving sparrow she fed and warmed,
j
And danced with rapture, she was so charmed.
9. Children, this story I tell to you
i
Of Piccola sweet and her bird, is true.

!
In the far-off land of France, they say,
Still do they live to this very day.

j
Definitions. — 3. Dawned, began to grow light. Stir, excite.

4. Be-fair, happen. 7. from cold. TTny,

Shiv'er-ing, trembling
very small. 8. Kapt/ure, great joy. Charmed, greatly pleased.
—
Exercises. What is meant by "driving the wolf from the
door?" In the third verse, what does "St." before Nicholas
mean? Who is St. Nicholas? What did Piccola find in her
shoe on Cnristmas morning?
f4.—4.)
50 ECLECTIC SERIES.

XIV. TRUE MANLINESS.

By Mrs. M. O. Johnson.— (Adapted.)

1. " Please, mother, do sit down and let me try my

hand," said Fred Li scorn, a bright, active boy twelve
years old. Mrs. Liscom, looking pale and worn, was
moving languidly about, trying to clear away the
breakfast she had scarcely tasted.
2. She smiled, and said, "You, Fred, you wash
dishes?" a Yes, indeed, mother," replied Fred; "I

should be a poor scholar if I couldn't, when I've

seen you do it so many times. Just try me."
3. A look of relief came over his mother's face as
she herself in her low rocking-chair.
seated Fred
washed the dishes, and put them in the closet. He
-

then swept the kitchen, brought up the potatoes from

the cellar for the dinner and washed them, and then
set out for school.
4. Fred's father was away from home, and as there

was some cold meat in the pantry, Mrs. Liscom found

it an easy task to prepare dinner. Fred hurried home
from school, set the table, and again washed the
dishes.
5. He kept on in this way for two or three days,
when mother was able to resume her usual work,
his
and he felt amply rewarded when the doctor, who
happened in one day, said, "Well, madam, it's my
opinion that you would have been very sick if you
had not kept quiet."
6. The doctor did not know how the "quiet" had

been secured, nor how the boy's heart bounded at his

words. Fred had given up a great deal of v.hat boys
 FOURTH READER. 51

i
hold dear, for the purpose of helping his mother, coast-
t ing and skating being just at this time in perfec-

j
tion.
7. Besides this, his temper and his patience had
i
been, severely tried. He had been in the habit of go-
\
ing early to school, and staying to play after it was
dismissed.
8. The boys missed him, and their curiosity was ex-
cited when he would give no other reason for not
coming to school earlier, or staying after school, than
that he was " wanted at home." "I '11 tell you,"

I said Tom Barton, " I '11 find him out, boys — see if I
don't!"
9. So he called for Fred to go to school, and on his
way to the side door walked lightly and somewhat
nearer the kitchen window than was absolutely need-
ful. Looking in, he saw Fred standing at the table
with a dish-cloth in his hand.
i 10. Of course he reported this at school, and vari-
ous were the greetings poor Fred received at recess.
'Well, you're a brave one to stay at home washing
iishes." " Girl-boy " " Pretty Bessie " " Lost your
! !

cipron, haven't you, Polly!"

11. Fred was not wanting either in spirit or cour-
age, and he was strongly tempted to resent these in-
sults and to fight some of his tormentors. But his
jonsciousness of right and his love for his mother
lelped him.
12. While he was struggling for self-mastery, his
eacher appeared at the door of the school-house.
?red caught his eye, and it seemed to look, if it did
lot "Don't give up!
say, Be really brave!" He
mew the teacher had heard the insulting taunts of
us thoughtless school-mates.
52 ECLECTIC SERIES.

13. The boys received notice during the day that

Fred must not be taunted or teased in any manner.
They knew that the teacher meant what he said; and
so the brave little boy had no farther trouble.

Definitions. — 1. Lar/guid-ly, feebly. 5. Am'ply, fully.

Opinion, judgment, belief 9. Ar/so-lQte-ly, wholly, entirely.

11. Re-gent', to consider as an injury. Cftn'scious-ness, inward

feeling, knowledge of tvhat passes in one's own mind.

Exercises. —Why did Fred offer to wash the dishes? Was

it a disgraceful thing to do? How was he rewarded? How
did his school-mates show their lack of manliness?

XV. TRUE MANLINESS.

(Concluded.)

1. "Fire!
fire!" The cry crept out on the still
night and the fire bells began to ring. Fred was
air,

wakened by the alarm and the red light streaming

into his room. He dressed himself in a moment, al-
most, and tapped at the door of his mother's bedroom.
2. "It is Mr. Barton's house, mother. Do let me
go," he said in eager, excited tones. Mrs. Liscom
thought a moment. He was young, but she could
trust him, and she knew how much his heart was in
the request.
"Yes, you may go," she answered; "but be care-
3.

ful, my
boy. If you can help, do so; but do nothing
rashly." Fred promised to follow her advice, and
hurried to the fire.

Mr. and Mrs. Barton were not at home.

4. The
house had been left in charge of the servants. The
fire spread with fearful speed, for there was a high
wind, and it was found impossible to save the house.
The servants ran about, screaming and lamenting, but
doing nothing to any purpose.
5. Fred found Tom
outside, in safety. " Where is
Katy?" he Tom, trembling with terror, seemed
asked.
to have had no thought but of his own escape. He
said, "Katy is in the house!" "In what room?"
asked Fred. "In that one," pointing to a window in
the upper story.
6. was no time for words, but for instant, vigor-
It
ous action. The staircase was already on fire; there
was but one way to reach Katy, and that full of dan-
ger. The second floor might fall at any moment, and
Fred knew it. But he trusted in an arm stronger
than his own, and silently sought help and guidance.
54 ECLECTIC SERIES.

7. A ladder was quickly brought, and placed against

the house. Fred mounted it, followed by the hired
man, dashed in the sash of the window, and pushed
his way into the room where the poor child lay nearly
suffocated with smoke.
8. He roused her with some difficulty, carried her to
the window, and placed her upon the sill. She was
instantly by strong arms, and carried down
grasped
the ladder, Fred following as fast as possible. They
had scarcely reached the ground before a crash of fall-
ing timbers told them that they had barely escaped
with their lives.

9. Tom Barton never forgot the lesson of that

night; and he came to believe, and to act upon the
belief, in after years, that true manliness is in har-
mony with gentleness, kindness, and self-denial.

Exercises. —Eelate the story of the fire. "What is meant

by " to any purpose," in verse four? Did Fred show any lack
of manliness when tested? What does this lesson teach?

XVI. THE BROWN THRUSH.

Lucy Larcom, the authoress of the following piece of poetry, was born
in 1826, and passed many years of her life as a factory girl at Lowell,
Mass. She is now a well known writer both of poetry and prose.

1. There's a merry brown thrush sitting up in a tree;

"He's singing to me! he's singing to me!"
And what does he say, little girl, little boy?
"Oh, the world's running over with joy!
Don't you hear? Don't you see?
Hush! look! In my tree
I'm as happy as happy can be!"
 FOURTH READER. 55

2. And brown thrush keeps singing, "A nest do

the
j
you see,
And five eggs hid by me in the juniper-tree?
Don't meddle don't touch little girl, little boy,
! !

Or the world will lose some of its joy!

Now I'm glad! now I'm free!
And I always shall be,
I
If you never bring sorrow to me."

3. So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree,

To you and to me, to you and to me;

And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy,
"Oh, the world's running over with joy!
But long it won't be,
Don't you know? Don't you see?
j
Unless we're as good as can be."

—
Exercises. What is a thrush? Why was the thrush so
lappy? Do you think she would have been happy if the little
boy or girl had robbed the nest?

XVII. A SHIP IN A STORM.

<
1. Did you ever go far out upon the great ocean?
How beautiful it is to be out at sea, when the sea is

smooth and still!

j
2. Let a storm approach, and the scene is changed.
The heavy, black clouds appear in the distance, and
;hrow a deep, death-like shade over the world of
waters.
3. The captain and sailors soon see in the clouds
;he signs of evil. All hands are then set to work to
;ake in sail.
56 ECLECTIC SERIES.

4. The hoarse notes of the captain, speaking through

his trumpet, are echoed from lip to lip among the rigl
uing. Happy will it be, if all is made snug before
the gale strikes the vessel.
5. At last, the gale comes like a vast moving
mountain of air. It strikes the ship. The vessel
heaves and groans under the dreadful weight, and
struggles to escape through the foaming waters.
6. If she is far out at sea, she will be likely to ride
out the storm in safety. But if the wind is driving
 FOURTH READER. 57

her upon the shore, the poor sailors will hardly escape
(being dashed upon the rocks, and drowned.
! 7. Once
there was a ship in a storm. Some of her
hiastswere already broken, and her sails lost. While
the wind was raging, and the billows were dashing
against her, the cry was heard, " A man has fallen
"
Overboard !

!
8. Quickly was the boat lowered, and she was soon
keen bounding on her way over the mountain waves.
At one moment, the boat seemed lifted to the skies,
md the next, it sank down, and appeared to be lost
jeneath the waves!

I
9. At length, the man was found. He was well-
aigh drowned; but he was taken on board, and now
they made for the ship. But the ship rolled so dread-
fully, that it seemed certain death to go near her.
A.nd now, what should they do?
10. The captain told one of the men to go aloft
and throw down a rope. This was made fast to the
Doat, and when the sea was somewhat calm it was
loisted, and all fell down into the ship with a dread-
ful crash. It was a desperate way of getting on board;
Dut fortunately no lives were lost.
11. On the dangerous points along our sea-coast are
light-houses, which can be seen far out at sea, and
serve as guides to
ships. Sometimes the fog is so
lense that these lights can not be seen, but most
ight-houses have great fog-bells or fog-horns; some of
;he latter are made to sound by steam, and can be
aeard for a long distance. These bells and horns are
kept sounding as long as the fog lasts.
12. There are also many life-saving stations along
the coast where trained men are ready with life-boats.
When a ship is driven ashore they at once go to the
58 ECLECTIC SERIES.
rescue of those on board, and thus many valuable
lives are saved.
13. Take it all in all, a sailor's life is a very hard
one. Our young friends owe a debt of gratitude to
those whose home is upon the great waters, and who
bring them the luxuries of other countries.

—
Definitions. 4. Eeh'oed, sounded again. Gale, a wind storm.
5. Heave§, pitches up and down. 7. BiFlowg, waves. 10. DeV-
per-ate, hopeless. 11. FSg, watery vapor, mist. 13. Gratitude,
thankfulness. Lux'u-rie§, nice things.

—
Exercises. What is this lesson about ? When is it danger-
ous to be at sea? What do sailors then do? In what situation
are they most likely to be saved ? Relate the story of the man
overboard. Tell about the light-houses. How are vessels warned
of danger in a fog? What about the life-saving stations?
What is said of a sailor's life?

XVIII. THE SAILOR'S CONSOLATION.

Charles Dibdin, the author, was born at Southampton, England, in
1745 He is best known as the writer of a number of fine sea songs.

1. One night came on a hurricane,

The sea was mountains rolling,
When Barney Buntline turned his quid,
And said to Billy Bowling:
"A strong nor-wester's blowing, Bill;
Hark! don't ye hear it roar now?
Lord help 'em, how I pities all
Unhappy folks on shore now!

2. "Fool-hardy chaps who live in town,

What danger they are all in,
 FOURTH READER. 59

And now are quaking in their beds,

For fear the roof shall fall in:
Poor creatures, how they envy us,
And wish, as I've a notion,
For our good luck, in such a storm,
To be upon the ocean.

3. "But as for them who 're out all day,

On business from their houses,
And late at night are coming home,
To cheer the babes and spouses;
While you and I, Bill, on the deck,
Are comfortably lying,
My eyes what tiles and chimney-pots
!

About their heads are flying!

4. "And very often have we heard

How men are killed and undone
By overturns of carriages,
By thieves, and fires in London.
We know what risks all landsmen run,
From noblemen to tailors;
Then, Bill, let us thank Providence
That you and I are sailors."

Definitions. — 1. Hur'ri-eane, a violent wind-storm. Quid, a

small piece of tobacco. 2. Fool'-hard'y, reckless. Quak'ing, shak-
ing with fear. No'tion, idea. 3. Spous/e§, wives. Tile§, thin
pieces of baked clay used in roofing houses. Chim'ney-pftts,
earthenware tops of chimneys. 4. Un-d6ne / injured, ruined.
,

Notes. — 1. " Barney

Buntline " and " Billy Bowling " are
supposed to be two sailors. " Nor- wester " is a sailor's name for
a north-west storm. 4. " Landsmen " is a term applied by

sailors to all who live on shore.

60 ECLECTIC SERIES.

XIX. TWO WAYS OP TELLING A STORY.

By Henby K. Oliver.

1. In one of the most populous cities of New En-

gland, a few years ago, a party of lads, all members
of the same school, got up a grand sleigh-ride. The
sleigh was a very large one, drawn by six gray horses.
2. On the following day, as the teacher entered the
school-room, he found his pupils in high glee, as they
chattered about the fun and frolic of their excursion.
In answer to some inquiries, one of the lads gave himj
an account of their trip and its various incidents.
3. As he drew near the end of his story, he ex-

claimed: "Oh, sir! there was one thing I had almost

forgotten. As we were coming home, we saw ahead
 FOURTH READER. 61

iof us a queer looking affair in the road. It proved

to be a rusty old sleigh, fastened behind a covered
wagon, proceeding at a very slow rate, and taking up
the whole road.
"Finding that the owner was not disposed to
4.

we determined upon a volley of snow-balls

[turn out,
'
and a good hurrah. They produced the right elfect,
jfbr the crazy machine turned out into the deep snow,
|

'and the skinny old pony started on a full trot.

I
5. "As we passed, some one gave the horse a good

brack, which made him run faster than he ever did

(before, I'll warrant.

6. "
With that, an old fellow in the wagon, who was
buried up under an old hat, bawled out, 'Why do you
frighten my horse?' 'Why don't you turn out,
then?' says the driver. So we gave him three rous-
ing cheers more. His horse was frightened again, and
ran up against a loaded wagon, and, I believe, almost
bapsized the old creature —
and so we left him."
i "Well, boys," replied the teacher, "take your
7.

seats, and I will tell you a story, and all about a

sleigh-ride, too. Yesterday afternoon a very venerable,

Did clergyman was on his way from Boston to Salem,
to pass the rest of the winter at the house of his son.
That he might be prepared for journeying in the
following spring he took with him his wagon, and for
the winter his sleigh, which he fastened behind the
tovagon.

8. "His
sight and hearing were somewhat blunted
dj age, and he was proceeding very slowly; for his
lorse was old and feeble, like his owner. He was
suddenly disturbed by loud hurrahs from behind, and
oy a furious pelting of balls of snow and ice upon the
top of his wagon.
62 ECLECTIC SERIES.

9. "In his dropped his reins, and his

alarm he
horse began to In the midst of the old
run away.
man's trouble, there rushed by him, with loud shouts,
a large party of boys, in a sleigh drawn by six horses.
'Turn out! turn out, old fellow !' ' Give us the road!'
'What will you take for your pony?' 'What's the
price of oats, old man?' were the various cries that
met his ears.
"'Pray, do not frighten my horse!' exclaimed
10.
the infirm driver. 'Turn out, then! turn out!' was
the answer, which was followed by repeated cracks
and blows from the long whip of the grand sleigh,' '

with showers of snow-balls, and three tremendous

hurrahs from the boys.
11. terror of the old man and his horse was
"The
increased,and the latter ran away with him, to the
great danger of his life. He contrived, however, to
stop his horse just in season to prevent his being
dashed against a loaded wagon. A short distance
brought him to the house of his son. That son, boys,
is your instructor, and that 'old fellow,' was your
teacher's father!"
12. When how rude and unkind
the boys perceived
their conduct from another point of view,
appeared
they were very much ashamed of their thoughtlessness,
and most of them had the manliness to apologize to
their teacher for what they had done.

Definitions. — 1. PSp'Q-lous, full of inhabitants. 2. Ex-cur'-

sion, a pleasure trip. In'ci-dents, things that happen, events. 5.

Warrant, to declare with assurance. 6. Cap-sized', upset. 7. V6n'-

er-a-ble, deserving of honor and respect. 8. Blimt'ed, dulled.

Exercises. —Kepeat the boys' story of the sleigh-ride. The

teacher's story. Were the boys ill-natured or only thoughtless?
Is thoughtlessness any excuse for rudeness or unkindness?
 ;;

FOURTH READER. 63

XX. FREAKS OP THE FROST.

I By Hannah Flagg Gould, who was born at Lancaster, Vermont, in
1789.She has had published several volumes of poems (one for children)
and one collection of prose articles, entitled "Gathered Leaves."

;1. The Frost looked forth one still, clear night,

And whispered, "Now I shall be out of sight;
So through the valley and over the height
In silence I'll take my way;
! I will not go on, like that blustering train,
'

The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain,
'

Who make so much bustle and noise in vain,

But I'll be as busy as they."

2. Then he flew to the mountain, and powdered its

crest
He lit on the trees, and their boughs he dressed
In diamond beads; and over the breast
Of the quivering lake, he spread
A coat of mail, that it need not fear
The downward point of many a spear,
That he hung on its margin, far and near,
Where a rock could rear its head.

1
3. He went to the windows of those who slept,
And over each pane, like a fairy, crept;

Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepped,

By the light of the morn were seen
Most beautiful things; there were flowers and
trees
There were bevies of birds, and swarms of bees;
There were cities with temples and towers, and
these
All pictured in silver sheen.
64 ECLECTIC SERIES.

4. But he did one thing that was hardly fair;

He peeped in the cupboard, and, finding there

That all had forgotten for him to prepare,
"Now just to set them a-thinking,
I'll bite this basket of fruit," said he,
"This costly pitcher I'll burst in three;
And the glass of water they've left for me
Shall 'tchick!' to tell them I'm drinking."

Definitions. — 1.
/
Bliis ter-ing, being noisy and loud. Bus'tle,
stir. 2. CrSst, the top. Quiv'er-ing, trembling, shaking. Mar-
gin, edge, border. 3. B&v'ie§, flocks. Piet'ured, painted. Sheen,
brightness, splendor of appearance.

Exercises. —What did the frost say? What did he do to

the mountain? The trees? The lake? What is a ''coat of
mail"? What did he do to the window? The pitcher?

XXI. WASTE NOT, WANT NOT.

1. Mr. Jones. Boys, if you have nothing to do, will

you unpack these parcels for me?

2. The two parcels were exactly alike, both of them

well tied up with good whip-cord. Ben took his par-

cel to the table, and began to examine the knot, and
then to untie it.

3. John took
the other parcel, and tried first at one
corner,and then at the other, to pull off the string.
But the cord had been too well secured, and he only
drew the knots tighter.
4. John. I wish these people would not tie up their
parcels so tightly, as if they were never to be undone.
Why, Ben, how did you get yours undone? What is
 FOURTH READER. 65

in your parcel ? I wonder what is in mine ! I wish

I could get the string off. I will cut it.

5. Ben. Oh, no, do not cut it, John! Look, what a

nice cord this is, and yours is the same. It is a pity
to cut it.

6. John. Pooh! what signifies a bit of pack-thread?

7. Ben. It is whip-cord.
8. John. Well, whip-cord then! what signifies a bit
of whip-cord? You can get a piece of whip-cord
twice as long as that for three cents; and who cares
for three cents? Not I, for one. So, here it goes.
9. So he took out his knife, and cut it in several
places.
10. Mr. Jones. Well, my boys, have you undone the
parcels for me?
11. John. Yes, sir; here is the parcel.
12. Ben. And here is my parcel, father, and here is

also the string.

13. Mr. Jones. You may keep the string, Ben.
14. Ben. Thank you, sir. What excellent whip-
cord it is!

15. Mr. Jones. And

John, may keep your
you,
string, too, if it any use to you.
will be of
16. John. It will be of no use to me, thank you,
sir.

17. Mr. Jones. No, I am afraid not, if this is it.

18. A few weeks after this, Mr. Jones gave each of
his sons a new top.
19. John. How is this, Ben? These tops have no
strings. What shall we do for strings?
20. Ben. I have a string that will do very well for
mine. And he pulled it out of his pocket.
21. John. Why, if that is not the whip-cord! I
wish I had saved mine.
(4.-5.)
66 ECLECTIC SERIES.

22. A few days afterward, there was a shooting-

match ;
with bows and arrows, among the lads. The
prize was a fine bow and arrows, to be given to the
best marksman. "Come, come," said Master Sharp,
"I am within one inch of the mark. I should like to
see Avho will go nearer."
23. John drew his bow, and shot. The arrow
struck within a quarter of an inch of Master Sharp's.
"Shoot away," said Sharp; "but you must understand
the rules. We settled them before you came. You
are to have three shots with your own arrows. No-
body is to borrow or lend. So shoot away."
24. John seized his second arrow; "If I have any
luck," said he; —but just as he pronounced the word
"luck," the string broke, and the arrow fell from his
hands.
25. Master Sharp. There! It is all over with you.
26. Ben. Here is my bow for him, and welcome.
27. Master Sharp. No, no, sir; that is not fair.

Did you not hear the rules? There is to be no lend-

ing.
28. It was now Ben's turn to make his trial. His
first arrow missed the mark; the second was exactly
as near as John's first. Before venturing the last

arrow, Ben very prudently examined the string of his

bow; and, as he pulled it to try its strength, it

snapped.
29. Master Sharp clapped his hands and danced for
joy. But his dancing suddenly ceased, when careful
Ben drew out of his pocket an excellent piece of cord,
and began to tie it to the bow.
30. "The everlasting whip-cord, I declare!" cried
John. "Yes," said Ben, "I put it in my pocket to-
day, because I thought I might want it."
 ; —
FOURTH READER. 67

31. Ben's last arrow won the prize; and when the
bow and arrows were handed to him, John said
"How valuable that whip-cord has been to you, Ben,
I'll take care how I waste any thing, hereafter."

Definitions. — 2. E^-am'ine, to look at carefully. 6. Sig'ni-

{

fie§,, to be important. 22. Marks'man, one who shoots well. 28.

jPru'dent-ly, with proper caution. 29. Ceased, stopped. 30. Ev-
er-last'ing, lasting always.

Exeecises. —What is this lesson designed to teach? Which

of the boys preserved his whip-cord? What good did it do
him? What did the other boy do with his? What was the
consequence? What did he learn from it?

XXII. JEANNETTE AND JO.

By Maey Mapes Dodge.

1. Two girls I know —Jeannette and Jo,

And one is always moping;
The other lassie, come what may,
Is ever bravely hoping.

2. Beauty of face and girlish grace

Are theirs, for joy or sorrow
Jeannette takes brightly every day,
And Jo dreads each to-morrow.

3. One early morn they watched the dawn

I saw them stand together;
Their whole day's sport, 'twas very plain,
Depended on the weather.
 — ; ; — —
68 ECLECTIC SERIES.

4. "'Twill storm!" cried Jo. Jeannette spoke low

"Yes, but 'twill soon be over."
And, as she spoke, the sudden shower
Came, beating down the clover.

5. "I told you so!" cried angry Jo:

" It always is a-raining " !

Then hid her face in dire despair,

Lamenting and complaining.

6. But sweet Jeannette, quite hopeful yet,

I tell it to her honor,
Looked up and waited till the sun
Came streaming in upon her.

7. The broken clouds sailed off in crowds,

Across a sea of glory.
Jeannette and Jo ran, laughing, in
Which ends my simple story.

8. Joy is divine. Come storm, come shine,

The hopeful are the gladdest;
And doubt and dread, children, believe
Of all things are the saddest.

9. In morning's light, let youth be bright;

Take in the sunshine tender
Then, at the close, shall life's decline
Be full of sunset splendor.

10. And ye who fret, try, like Jeannette,

To shun all weak complaining
And not, like Jo, cry out too soon
" It always is a-raining
" !
 FOURTH READER.

XXIII. THE LION.

1. The lion is often called the "king of beasts."

lis height varies from three to four feet, and he is

from six to nine feet long. His coat is of a yellowish

irown or tawny color, and about his neck is a great
haggy mane which gives his head a majestic appear-
nee.
2. The strength of the lion is so great that he can
^sily crush the skulls of such animals as the horse or
x with one blow of his paw. No one who has not
jen the teeth of a full grown lion taken out of their
)ckets can haveany idea of their real size; one of
lem forms a good handful, and might easily be mis-
iken for a small elephant's tooth.
3. The home of the lion is in the forests of Asia
id Africa, where he is a terror to man and beast,
e generally lies concealed during the day, but as
rkness comes on he prowls about where other ani-

I
70 ECLECTIC SERIES.

mals are accustomed to go for food or drink, and

springs upon them unawares, with a roar that sounds
like the rumble of thunder.
4. The lion sometimes lives to a great age. One
by the name of Pompey died at London, in the year
1760, at the age of seventy years. If taken when
young the lion can be tamed, and will even show
marks of kindness to his keeper.
5. In a menagerie at Brussels, there was a cell

where a large Danco, used to be kept.

lion, called
The cell happened to be in need of repair, and the
keeper, whose name was William, desired a carpenter
to come and mend it. The carpenter came, but was
so afraid of the lion, that he would not go near the
cell alone.

6. So William entered the cell, and led the lion to

the upper part of it, while the other part was refitting.

He played with the lion for some time; but, at last,

being wearied, both he and the lion fell asleep. The

carpenter went on with his work, and when he had]
finished he called out for William to come and see
it.

7. He called again and again, but no William an-J

swered. The poor carpenter began to be frightened,
lest the lion had made his dinner of the keeper, or'

else crushed him with his great paws. He crept

round to the upper part of the cell, and there, look-J
ing through the railing, he saw the lion and William
sleeping side by side as contentedly as two little!

brothers.
8. He was so astonished that he uttered a loudj
cry. The awakened by the noise, stared at the!
lion,

carpenter with an eye of fury, and then placing his,

paw on the breast of his keeper, as if to say, " Touch i
 FOURTH READER. 71

l;him if you dare/' the heroic beast lay down to sleep

liagain. The carpenter was dreadfully alarmed, and, not
jknowing how he could rouse William, he ran out and
related what he had seen.
j' 9. Some people came, and, opening the door of the
;cell, contrived to awaken the keeper, who, rubbing his
eyes, quietly looked around him, and expressed himself
very well satisfied with his nap. He took the lion's

paw, shook it kindly, and then retired uninjured from

the cell.

Definitions. — 1. Ma-jeVtie, royal, noble. 3. Prowl§, wanders

n search
of prey. TJ n-a-wares/, unexpectedly. Rum'ble, a low
heavy sound. 5. Men-ag'e-rie, a collection of wild animals. 6. Re-
'It'ting, repairing. 8. He-ro'-ie, bold.

;
Exercises.— Describe the lion's appearance. What is said
)f his strength? His teeth? Describe the lion's home and
labits. To what age do lions live? Can they be tamed? Re-
ate the story about the lion Danco.

XXIV. strawberries.

By John Townsend Trowbridge, who was born at Ogden, N. Y., in

327. He is a well-known author, and has written much for children
oth in poetry and prose.

. Little Pearl Honey dew, six years old,

From her bright ear parted the curls of gold;'
And laid her head on the strawberry bed,
To hear what the red-cheeked berries said.

. Their cheeks were blushing, their breath was sweet,

She could almost hear their little hearts beat;
And the tiniest, lisping, whispering sound
That ever you heard, came up from the ground.
 — "

72 ECLECTIC SERIES.

3. "Little friends/' she said, "I wish I knew

How it is you thrive on sun and dew !

And this is the story the berries told

To little Pearl Honeydew, six years old.

4. "You wish you knew? And so do we.

But we can't tell you, unless it be
That the same Kind Power that cares for you
Takes care of poor little berries, too.

5. "Tucked up snugly, and nestled below

Our coverlid of wind-woven snow,
We peep and listen, all winter long,
For the first spring day and the bluebird's song.

6. "When the swallows, fly home to the old brown

shed,
And the robins build on the bough overhead,
Then out from the mold, from the darkness and
cold,
Blossom and runner and leaf unfold.

7. "Good children, then, if they come near,

And hearken a good long while, may hear
A wonderful tramping of little feet,

So fast we grow in the summer heat.

8. "Our clocks are the flowers; and they count the

hours
Tillwe can mellow in suns and showers,
With warmth of the west-wind and heat of the
south,
A ripe red berry for a ripe red mouth.
 FOURTH READER. 73

i 9. "Apple-blooms whiten, and peach-blooms fall,

And roses are gay by the garden wall,

Ere the daisy's dial gives the sign
That we can invite little Pearl to dine.

10. "The days are longest, the month is June,

The year is nearing its golden noon,
The weather is fine, and our feast is spread
With a green cloth and berries red.

11. "Just take us betwixt your finger and thumb,

And quick, oh, quick! for, see! there come
Tom on all-fours, and Martin the man,
And Margaret, picking as fast as they can.

12. "Oh, dear! if you only knew how it shocks

Nice berries like us to be sold by the box,
And eaten by strangers, and paid for with pelf,

Yoti would surely take pity, and eat us your-

self!"

L3. And this is the story the small lips told

To dear Pearl Honey dew, six* years old,
When she laid her head on the strawberry-bed
j
To hear what the red-cheeked berries said.

Definitions. — 3. Thrive, to grovj well, to flourish. 5. Nest'led,

lathered closely together. 6. Mold, fine, soft earth. Rur/ner, a
lender branch running along the ground. 8. MeFlow, to ripen.
). Di'al, the face of a time-piece. 10. Feast, a festive or joyous
neal, a banquet. 12. Pelf, money.

—
Exercises. What did little Pearl ask of the strawberries?
Wh&t did they reply? Can you tell what name is given to
;his kind of story?
 "

74 ECLECTIC SERIES.

XXV. HARRY'S RICHES.

One day, our little Harry spent the morning with

1.

his young playmate, Johnny Crane, who lived in a fine

house, and on Sundays rode to church in the grandest
carriage to be seen in all the country round.
2. When Harry returned home, he said, "Mother,
Johnny has money in both pockets!"
3.
a
Has he, dear?"
"Yes, ma'am; and he says he could get ever so
4.

much more if he wanted it."

5. "Well, now, that's very pleasant for him," I re-

turned, cheerfully, as a reply was plainly expected.

"Very pleasant; don't you think so?"
6. "Yes, ma'am; only
—
7. "Only what, Harry?"
8. "Why, he has a big pop-gun, and a watch, and
a hobby-horse, and lots of things." And Harry
looked up at my face with a disconsolate stare.

9. "Well, my boy, what

of that?"
10. "Nothing, mother," and the tell-tale tears sprang
to his eyes, "only I guess we are very poor, aren't
we?"
11. "No, indeed, Harry, we are very far from being
poor. We Mr. Crane's family, if
are not so rich as
that what you mean."
is

12. "O mother!" insisted the little fellow, "I do

think we are very poor; anyhow, I am!"
13. " O Harry " I exclaimed, reproachfully.
!

14. "Yes, ma'am I am," he sobbed; "I have

scarcely any thing —
I mean any thing that 's worth
—
money except things to eat and wear, and I'd have
to have them any way."
 "
I

FOURTH READER. 75

I 15. "Have to have them?" I echoed, at the same

lltime laying my sewing upon the table, so that I
l|might reason with him on that point; "do you not
llknow, my son —
Uncle Ben looked up from the paper
16. Just then
I he had been reading: "Harry," said he, "I want to
find out something about eyes; so, if you will let me
have yours, I will give you a dollar apiece for
them."
17. "For my eyes!" exclaimed Harry, very much
istonished.
"Yes," resumed Uncle Ben, quietly, "for your
18.
jyes. I will give you chloroform, so it will not hurt
you in the least, and you shall have a beautiful glass
Dair for nothing, to wear in their place. Come, a dol-
ar apiece, cash down! What do you say? I will
;ake them out as quick as a wink."
19. "Give you my eyes, uncle!" cried Harry, look-
ng wild at the very thought, " I think not." And
;he startled little fellow shook his head defiantly.

20. "Well, five, ten, twenty dollars, then." Harry

shook his head at every offer.
21. "No, sir! I wouldn't let you have them for a
;housand dollars! What could I do without my
ryes? I couldn't see mother, nor the baby, nor the
lowers, nor the horses, nor any thing," added Harry,
growing warmer and warmer.
22. " I will give you two thousand," urged Uncle
3en, taking a roll of bank-notes out of his pocket.
EEarry, standing at a respectful distance, shouted that
le never would do any such thing.
23. "Very well," continued the uncle, with a seri-
>us air, at the same time writing something in his
lote-book, "I can't afford to give you more than two
76 ECLECTIC SERIES.

thousand dollars, so I shall have to do without your

eyes; but/' he added, "I will tell you what I will
do, I will give you twenty dollars if you will let me
put a few drops from this bottle in your ears. It
will not hurt, but it will make you deaf. I want to
try some experiments with deafness, you see. Come
quickly, now! Here are the twenty dollars all ready
for you."
24. "Make me deaf!" shouted Harry, without even
looking at the gold pieces temptingly displayed upon
the table. "I guess you will not do that, either.
Why, I could n't hear a single word if I were deaf,
could I?"
25. " Probably not," replied Uncle Ben. So, of
course, Harry refused again. He would never give
up his hearing, he said, "no, not for three thousand
dollars."
26. Uncle Ben made another note in his book, and
then came out with large bids for "a right arm," then
"left arm," "hands," "feet," "nose," finally ending
with an offer of ten thousand dollars for "mother,"
and five thousand for "the baby."
27. To all of these offers Harry shook his head,
his eyes flashing,and exclamations of surprise and in-
dignation bursting from his lips. At last, Uncle Ben
said he must give up his experiments, for Harry's
prices were entirely too high.
28. "Ha! ha!" laughed the boy, exultingly, and he
folded his dimpled arms and looked as if to say,
"I'd like to see the man who could pay them!"
29. "Why, Harry, look here!" exclaimed Uncle
Ben, peeping into his note-book, " here is a big addi-
tion sum, I tell you!" Headded the numbers, and
they amounted to thirty-two thousand dollars.
 FOURTH READER. 77

30. "There, Harry/' said Uncle Ben, " do n't you

|
think you are foolish not to accept some of my
offers?" "No, sir, I don't," answered Harry, reso-
;
lutely. " Then," said Uncle Ben, " you talk of being
poor, and by your own showing you have treasures

|
for which you will not take thirty-two thousand dol-
lars. What do you say to that?"
31. Harry didn't know exactly what to say. So
j
he blushed for a second, and just then tears came roll-

j
ing down his cheeks, and he threw his chubby arms
i
around my neck. "Mother," he whispered, "isn't
I
God good to make every body so rich?"

Definitions, — 8. Dis-eSn'so-late, filled with grief. 13. Ee-

proach'ful-ly , with censure or reproof. 18. Chloroform, an oily

liquid, the vapor of which causes insensibility. . 19. Startled,

I shocked. De-fi'ant-ly, daringly. 23. Af-ford', to be able to pay
for. Ex-per'i-ments, acts performed to discover some truth. 27.

|
Ex-ela-ma'tiong, expressions of surprise, anger, etc. 28. Ei-tilt'-

!ing-ly, in a triumphant manner. 30. Treasures, things which are

\
very much valued.

XXVI. IN TIME'S SWING.

By Lucy Laecom.

1. Father Time, your footsteps go

Lightly as the falling snow.
In your swing I'm sitting, see!
Push me softly one, two, three,
;

Twelve times only. Like a sheet,

Spread the snow beneath my feet.
Singing merrily, let me swing
Out of winter into spring.
 ; ! —
ECLECTIC SERIES.

2. Swing me out, and swing me in!

Trees are bare, but birds begin
Twittering to the peeping leaves,
On the bough beneath the eaves.
Wait, —one lilac bud I saw.
Icy hill-sides feel the thaw.
April chased off March to-day;
Now I catch a glimpse of May.

3. Oh, the smell of sprouting grass

In a blur the violets pass.
Whispering from the wild-wood come
Mayflower's breath and insect's hum.
Roses carpeting the ground
Thrushes, orioles, warbling sound:
Swing me low, and swing me high,
To the warm clouds of July.

4. Slower now, for at my side

White pond lilies open wide.
Underneath the pine's tall spire
Cardinal blossoms burn like fire.
They are gone; the golden-rod
Flashes from the dark green sod.
Crickets in the grass I hear;
Asters light the fading year.

5. Slower still! October weaves

Rainbows of the forest leaves.
Gentians fringed, like eyes of blue,
Glimmer out of sleety dew.
Meadow-green I sadly miss:
Winds through withered sedges hiss.

Oh, 'tis snowing, swing me fast,

While December shivers past!

 FOURTH READER. 79

6. Frosty-bearded Father Time,

Stop your footfall on the rime!
Hard you push, your hand is rough;
You have swung me long enough.
"Nay, no stopping," say you? Well,
Some of your best stories tell,

While you swing me gently, do! —

From the Old Year to the New.

\
Definitions. — 2. Twit/ter-ing, making a succession of small,
\chirping noises. Glimpse, a short, hurried view. 3. Blur, a dim,

^confused appearance. 6. Rime, white or hoar frost.

XXVII. HARRY AND HIS DOG.

1. "Beg, Frisk, beg," said little Harry, as he sat

;on an inverted basket, at his grandmother's door, eat-
ing, with great satisfaction, a porringer of bread and
milk. His little sister Annie, who had already dis-
patched her breakfast, sat on the ground opposite to
!him, now twisting her flowers into garlands, and now
throwing them away.
j
"Beg, Frisk, beg!" repeated Harry, holding a
2.

bit out of the dog's reach; and the

of bread just
lobedient Frisk squatted himself on his hind legs, and
held up his fore paws, waiting for master Harry to
him the tempting morsel.
give

J
3.The little boy and the little dog were great
|friends. Frisk loved him dearly, much better than
he did any one else; perhaps, because he recollected
that Harry was his earliest and firmest friend during
|a time of great trouble.
80 ECLECTIC SERIES.

Poor Frisk had come as a stray dog to Milton,

4.

the place where Harry lived. If he could have told

his own story, it would probably have been a very
pitiful one, of kicks and cuffs, of hunger and foul

weather.
5. Certain it is, he made his appearance at the very]

door where Harry was now sitting, in miserable plight,

wet, dirty, and half-starved; and that there he met
Harry, who took a fancy to him, and Harry's grand-
mother, who drove him off with a broom.
6. Harry, at length, obtained permission for the
little dog to remain as a sort of outdoor pensioner,
and fed him with stray bones and cold potatoes, and
such things as he could get for him. He also pro-
vided him with a little basket to sleep in, the very
same which, turned up, afterward served Harry for a
seat,

7. After a while, having proved his good qualities

by barking away a set of pilferers, who were making
an attack on the great pear-tree, he was admitted into
the house, and became one of its most vigilant and
valued inmates. He could fetch or carry either by
land or water; would pick up a thimble or a ball of
cotton, if little Annie should happen to drop them;
or take Harry's dinner to school for him with perfect
honesty.
8. "Beg, Frisk, beg!" and gave him,
said Harry,
after long waiting, the expected Frisk was morsel.
satisfied, but Harry was not. The little boy, though
a good-humored fellow in the main, had turns of
naughtiness, which were apt to last him all day, and
this promised to prove one of his worst. It was t\
holiday, and in the afternoon his cousins, Jane and
William, were to come and see him and Annie; and
 FOURTH READER. 81

the pears were to be gathered, and the children were

to have a treat.
Harry, in his impatience, thought the morning
9.

would never be over. He played such pranks buffet- —

ing Frisk, cutting the curls off of Annie's doll, and
finally breaking his grandmother's spectacles — that be-
fore his visitors arrived, indeed, almost immediately
I after dinner, he contrived to be sent to bed in dis-
grace.

Poor Harry! there he lay, rolling and kicking,

10.
while Jane, and William, and Annie were busy about
he fine, mellow Windsor pears. William was up in
he tree, gathering and shaking Annie and Jane
;

:atching them in their aprons, and picking them up

rom the ground; now piling them in baskets, and
low eating the nicest and ripest; while Frisk was
>arking gayly among them, as if he were catching
Windsor pears, too!
11. Poor Harry! He could hear all this glee and
nerriment through the open window, as he lay in
(4.-6.)
 —
82 ECLECTIC SERIES.

bed. The storm of passion having subsided, there he

lay weeping and disconsolate, a grievous sob bursting
forth every now and then, as he heard the loud peals
of childish laughter, and as he thought how he should
have laughed, and how happy he should have been,
had he not forfeited all this pleasure by his own bad
conduct.
12. He wondered if Annie would not be so good-
natured as to bring him a pear. All on a sudden, he
heard a little foot on the stair, pitapat, and he thought
she was coming. Pitapat came the foot,nearer and
nearer, and at last a small head peeped, half-afraid,
through the half-open door.
13. But it was not Annie's head; it was Frisk's
poor Frisk, whom Harry had been teasing and tor-
menting all the morning, and who came into the room
wagging his tail, with a great pear in his mouth; and,
jumping upon the bed, he laid it in the little boy's
hand.
14. Is not Frisk a fine, grateful fellow? and does
he not deserve a share of Harry's breakfast, whether
he begs for it or not? And little Harry will remem-
ber from the events of this day that kindness, even
though shown to a dog, will always be rewarded; and
that ill-nature and bad-temper are connected with noth-
ing but pain and disgrace.

Definitions.— 1. In-vert'ed, turned upside down. PSr'rin-ger,

a small metallic dish. 3. Rge-ol-lSet/ed, brought back to mind.
5. Plight, condition. 6. PSn'sion-er, one who is supported by
others. 7. Pirfer-er§, those who steal little things. Vig'i-lant,
watchful. In'mates, those living in the same house. 8. HSFi-day,
a day of amusement. 9. Buffet-ing, striking with the hand. 11.

Sub-sid'ed, become quiet. For'feit-ed, lost. 14. Con-nect/ed,

united, have a close relation.
 ;

FOURTH READER.

XXVIII. THE VOICE OP THE GRASS.

By Sabah Roberts.

Here I come, creeping, creeping, every-where;

By the dusty road-side,
On the sunny hill-side,
Close by the noisy brook,
In every shady nook,
I come creeping, creeping, every-where.

Here I come, creeping, creeping every-where;

All round the open door,
Where sit the aged poor,
Here where the children play,
In the bright and merry May,
I come creeping, creeping, every-where.

Here I come, creeping, creeping, every-where;

You can not see me coming,
Nor hear my low, sweet humming,
For in the starry night,
And the glad morning light,

I come, quietly creeping, every-where.

Here I come, creeping, creeping, every-where;

More welcome than the flowers,
In summer's pleasant hours
The gentle cow is glad,
And the merry birds not sad,
To see me creeping, creeping, every-where.
84 ECLECTIC SERIES,

5. Here I come, creeping, creeping, every-where;

When you're numbered with the dead,
In your still and narrow bed,
In the happy spring I'll come,
And deck your narrow home,
Creeping, silently creeping, every-where.

6. Here I come, creeping, creeping, every-where;

My humble song of praise,
Most gratefully I raise,
To Him at whose command.
I beautify the land,
Creeping, silently creeping, every-where.

XXIX. THE EAGLE.

1. The eagle seems to enjoy a kind of supremacy

over the rest of the inhabitants of the air. Such is
the loftiness of his flight, that he often soars in the
sky beyond the reach of the naked eye, and such is
his strength that he has been known to carry away
children in his talons. But many of the noble quali-
ties imputed to him are rather fanciful than true.
2. He has been described as showing a lofty inde-
pendence, which makes him disdain to feed on any
thing that is not slain by his own strength. But
Alexander Wilson, the great naturalist, says that hej
has seen an eagle feasting on the carcass of a horse, j

The eagle lives to a great age. One at Vienna, is

stated to have died after a confinement of one hun-j

dred and four years.
 FOURTH READER. 85

3. There are several species of the eagle. The

golden-eagle, which is one of the largest, is nearly
four feet from the point of the beak to the end of the
tail. He is found in most parts of Europe, and is

also met with in America. High rocks and ruined

and lonely towers are the places which he chooses for
his abode. His nest is composed of sticks and rushes.
The tail feathers are highly valued as ornaments by
itheAmerican Indians.
The most interesting species is the bald-eagle,
4. -

as this is an American bird, and the adopted emblem

bf our country. He lives chiefly upon fish, and is
found in the neighborhood of the sea, and along the
shores and cliffs of our large lakes and rivers.
i 5. According to the description given by Wilson,

ae depends, in procuring his food, chiefly upon the

[abors of others. He watches the fish-hawk as he
lives into the sea for his prey, and darting down
ipon him as he rises, forces him to relinquish his
/ictim, and then seizes it before it again reaches the
,vater.

6. One of the most notable species is the harpy-

agle. This is said to be bold and strong, and to
ttack beasts, and even man himself. He is fierce,

uarrelsome, and sullen, living alone in the deepest

brests. He is found chiefly in South America.

Definitions. — 1. Su-prSm'a-cy, highest authority. Soar§, flies

loft. Im-put'ed, ascribed to. 2. LSft/y, haughty, dignified. Di§-

/
iain , to scorn. Carcass, the dead body of an animal. 3. Spe'-
ie§, classes. 4. In'ter-Sst-ing, engaging the attention. A-dftpt'ed,
elected, chosen. Em'blem, that xohich is supposed to resemble some
ther thing in certain qualities, and is used to represent it. 5. Re-
[n'quish, to give up. 6. Not'a-ble, worthy of notice. SuFlen,
loomily angry and silent.
86 ECLECTIC SERIES.

XXX. THE OLD EAGLE-TREE.

1. In a distant field, stood a large tulip-tree, ap-

parently of a century's growth, and one of the most
gigantic. It looked like the father of the surrounding
forest. A single tree of huge dimensions, standing all

alone, is a sublime object.

2. On the top of this tree, an old eagle, commonly
called the "Fishing-Eagle," had built her nest every
year, for many years, and, undisturbed, had raised her
young. A remarkable place to choose, as she procured
her food from the ocean, and this tree stood full ten
miles from the sea-shore. It had long been known
as the "Old Eagle-Tree."
3. On
warm, sunny day, the workmen were hoe-
a
ing corn in an adjoining field. At a certain hour of
the day, the old eagle was known to set off for the
sea-side, to gather food for her young. As she this
day returned with a large fish in her claws, the work-
men surrounded the tree, and, by yelling and hooting,
and throwing stones, so scared the poor bird that she
dropped her fish, and they carried it off in triumph.
4. The men soon dispersed, but Joseph sat down
under a bush near by, to watch, and to bestow un-
availing pity. The bird soon returned to her nest
without food. The eaglets at once set up a cry fo:
food, so shrill, so clear, and so clamorous that the bo}
was greatly moved.
5. The parent-bird seemed to try to soothe them
but their appetites were too keen, and it was all ii
vain. She then perched herself on a limb near them
and looked down into the nest in a manner tha
seemed to say, "I know not what to do next."
 ! !

FOURTH READER. 87

6. Her indecision was but momentary; again she

poised herself, uttered one or two sharp notes, as if
jj

telling them to "lie still/' balanced her body, spread

her wings, and was away again for the sea.
7. Joseph was determined to see the result. His
\
eye followed her till she grew small, smaller, a mere
I
speck in the sky, and then disappeared. What boy
has not thus watched the flight of the bird of his
country
!
8. She was gone nearly two hours, about double her
! usual time for a voyage, when she again returned, on
I a slow, weary wing, flying uncommonly low, in order
to have a heavier atmosphere to sustain her, with
another fish in her talons.

9. On nearing the field, she made a circuit round

it, to see if her enemies were again there. Finding
the coast clear, she once more reached the tree, droop-
ing, faint, and weary, and evidently nearly exhausted.
I
Again the eaglets set up their cry, which was soon
hushed by the distribution of a dinner, such as, save
! the cooking, a king might admire.
10. " Glorious bird " cried the boy, " what a spirit
! "
!
Other birds can more swiftly, others can sing more
fly

sweetly, others scream more loudly; but what other

bird, when persecuted and robbed, when weary, when
1 discouraged, when so far from the sea, would do
this?
! 11. "Glorious bird! I will learn a lesson from thee
to-day. I will never forget, hereafter, that when the
J
spirit is determined it can do almost any thing.
I Others would have drooped, and hung the head, and
|
mourned over the cruelty of man, and sighed over the
l| wants of the nestlings; but thou, by at once recover-
I
ing the loss, hast forgotten all.
 — ——
88 ECLECTIC SERIES.

12. "I will learn of thee, noble bird! I will re-

member this. I will set my mark high. I will try
to do something, and to be something in the world; I
will never yield to discouragements."

Definitions. — 1. CSnt'u-ry, the space of a hundred years.

Gl-gan'tie, very large. Di-men'siong, size. Sub-lline', grand, noble.
4. Dis-persed', scattered. Un-a-vail'ing, useless. Ea'glets,young
eagles. Clam'or-ous, loud, noisy. 6. In-de-cis'ion, want of fixed
purpose. Mo / rnent-a-ry, for a single mom.ent. 9. Cir'euit, move-
ment round in a circle. E^-haiist/ed, wholly tired out. 11. Nest'-
lingg, young birds in the nest.

Exercises.— Relate the story of the "Old Eagle-Tree." What

lesson was taught the boy who watched the eagle's actions?

XXXI. ALPINE SONG.

William W. Story, the author, was born in Salem, Mass., in 1819. His
writings in poetry and prose are well known, and he has also gained
distinction in his profession as a sculptor.

1. With alpenstock and knapsack light,

I wander o'er hill and valley;
I climb the snow-peak's flashing height,
And sleep in the sheltered chalet,
—
Free in heart happy and free
This is the summer life for me.

2. The city's dust I leave behind

For the keen, sweet air of the mountain,
The grassy path by the wild rose lined,
The gush of the living fountain,
Free in heart —happy and free
This is the summer life for me.
 FOURTH READER. 89

3. High above me snow-clouds rise,

In the early morning gleaming;

And the patterned valley beneath me lies

Softly in sunshine dreaming,

—
Free in heart happy and free
This is the summer life for me.

4. The bells of wandering herds I list,

Chiming in upland meadows;

How sweet they sound, as I lie at rest
Under the dark pine shadows,
Glad in heart —happy and free
This is the summer life for me.

Definitions. — 1. Al'pen-st^ck, a long staff, pointed with iron,

used in traveling among the Alps. Knap'sack, a leather sack for
carrying food or clothing, borne on the bach. Cha-let' {pro.
sha-la'),a mountain hut. % Gush, a rapid outflowing. 3. Pat-
terned, marked off in figures or patterns. 4. List, hearken to.

XXXII. CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES.

1. Derby. Good morning, neighbor Scrapewell. I

have half a dozen miles to ride to-day, and shall be
extremely obliged if you will lend me your gray
mare.
2. Scrapewell. Itwould give me great pleasure to
oblige you, friend Derby; but I am under the neces-
sity of going to the mill this very morning, with a
bag of corn. My wife wants the meal to-day, and you
know what a time there'll be if I disappoint her.
90 ECLECTIC SERIES.

3. D. Then she must want it still, for I can assure

you the mill does not go to-day. I heard the miller

tell Will Davis that the water was too low.

4. S. You don't say so That is bad, indeed for ! ;

in that case I shall be obliged to gallop off to town

for the meal. My wife would comb my head for me
if I should neglect it.

D. I can
5. save you this journey, for I have
plenty of meal at home, and will lend your wife as
much as she wants.
6. S. Ah! neighbor Derby, I am sure your meal
would never suit my wife. You can't conceive how
whimsical she is.

D. If she were ten times more whimsical than

7.

she I am certain she would like it; for you sold it

is,

to me yourself, and you assured me it was the best

you ever had.
8. S, Yes, yes! that's true, indeed; I always have

the best of every thing. You know, neighbor Derby,

that no one is more ready to oblige a friend than I
am; but I must tell you the mare this morning re-
fused to eat hay; and, truly, I am afraid she will not
carry you.
9. D. Oh, never fear! I will feed her well with
oats on the road.
10. S. Oats! neighbor; oats are very dear.
11. D. Never mind that. When I have a good job
in view, I never stand for trifles.
12. S. But it is very slippery; and I am really
afraid she will fall and break your neck.
13. D. Give yourself no uneasiness about that.

The mare is certainly sure-footed; and, besides, you

were just now talking of galloping her to town.
14. S. Well, then, to tell you the plain truth,
 FOURTH READER. 91

though I wish to oblige you with all my heart, my

saddle is torn quite in pieces, and I have just sent my
bridle to bemended.
D. Luckily, I have both a bridle and a saddle
15.
hanging up at home.
16. 8. Ah! that may be; but I am sure your saddle
will never fit my mare. She's very notional.
17. D. Why, then I'll borrow neighbor Clodpole's.
18. 8. Clodpole's! his will no more fit than yours.
19. I). At the worst, then, I will go to my good
friend, Squire Jones. He has half a score of them;
and I am sure he will lend me one that will fit

her.
20 8. You know, friend Derby, that no one is
more willing to oblige his neighbors than I am. I
do assure you the beast should be at your service,
with all my heart; but she has not been curried, I
believe, for three weeks past. Her foretop and mane
want combing and cutting very much. If any one
should see her in her present plight, it would ruin the
sale of her.
21. D. Oh, a horse is soon curried, and my son Sam
shall attend to it at once.
22. 8. Yes, very likely; but I this moment recol-
lect the creature has no shoes on.
23. D. Well, is there not a blacksmith hard by?
24. 8. What, that tinker, Dobson? I would not
trust such a bungler to shoe a goat. No, no; none
but uncle Tom Thumper shall shoe my mare.
D. As good luck
25. will have it, then, I shall
pass right by his door.
26. 8. \_Calling to his son.~\ Tim, Tim! here's
neighbor Derby, who wants the loan of the gray mare,
to ride to town to-day. You know the skin was
92 ECLECTIC SERIES.

rubbed off her back, last week, a hand's breadth or

more. Tim a wink.~\ However, I believe she
[Gives
is well~ enough by this time. You know, Tim, how
ready I am to oblige my neighbors; indeed, we ought
to do all the good we can in this world. We must
certainly let neighbor Derby have her if she will pos-
sibly answer his purpose. Yes, yes; I see plainly
by Tim's countenance, neighbor Derby, that he's dis-
posed to oblige you. I would not have refused you

the mare for the worth of her. If I had, I should

have expected you to refuse me in turn. None of my
neighbors can accuse me of being backward in doing
them a kindness whenever it is possible. Come, Tim,
what do you say?
27. Tim. What do I say, father? Why, sir, I say
that I am no less ready than you are to do a neigh-
borly kindness. But the mare is by no means capable
of performing the journey. About a hand's breadth,
did you say? Why, sir, the skin is torn from the
poor creature's back the bigness of your broad-
brimmed hat! And, besides, I have promised her, so
 —
FOURTH READER. 93

i
soon as she is able to travel, to Ned Saunders, to
carry a load of apples to market.
28. 8. Do you hear that, neighbor? I am very
sorry matters are thus. I would not have disobliged
you for the price of two such mares. Believe me,
neighbor Derby, I am really sorry, for your sake, that
;
matters turn out thus.
I
29. D. And I as much for yours, neighbor Scrape-
well; for to you the truth I received a letter this
tell

morning from Mr. Griffin, who tells me if I will be

in town to-day he will give me the refusal of all that
lot of timber, which he is about cutting down, on the
I side of the hill; and I had intended you should have
shared half of it, which would have been not less
your pocket. But, as your
'than fifty dollars in

j
you say?
30. 8. Fifty dollars, did
31. D. Ay, truly, did I; but as your mare is out
jof order, I'll go and see if I can get old Roan, the

'blacksmith's horse.

j
32. 8. Old Roan! My mare is at your service,
neighbor. Here, Tim, Ned Saunders he can't
tell

ihave the mare: neighbor Derby wants her; and I

jwon't refuse so good a friend any thing he asks
for.

I
33.D. But what are you to do for meal?
j
34. & My wife can do without it for a week if you
want the mare so long.
j
35. D. But, then, your saddle is all in pieces.
36. 8. I meant the old one. I have bought a new
one since, and you shall have the first use of it.
37. D. And shall I call at Thumper's and get the
mare shod?
38. 8. No, no; I had forgotten to tell you that
jl let neighbor Dobson shoe her, last week, by way
 —
94 ECLECTIC SERIES.

of trial; and, to do him justice, he shoes extremely

well.
39. D. But, if the poor creature has lost so much
skin from off her back
40. S. Poh, poh! That is just one of Tim's large
stories. I do assure you it was not, at first, bigger
than my thumb-nail, and I am certain it has not
grown any since.
41. D. At least, however, let her have something
she will eat, since she refuses hay.
42. S. She did, indeed, refuse hay this morning;
but the only reason was that she Was crammed full of
oats. You have nothing to fear, neighbor; the mare is

in perfect trim; and she skim you over the

will
ground like a bird. I wish you a good journey and
a profitable job.

Definitions. — 1. Ex-treme'ly, very much. 6. Wriim'gi-eal,

full of whims. Fore / t5p, hair on the forepart
20. Ciir'ried, cleaned.

of the head. 24. Bim'gler, a clumsy workman. 26. Dis-poged'

inclined to. Backward, slow, unwilling. 27. Ca'pa-ble, possessing
ability. ' Per-f6rui / ing, accomplishing. /
29. Re-fu§ al, choice of tak-
ing. 42. Crammed, stuffed.

XXXIII. THE NOBLEST REVENGE.

1. "I will have revenge on him, that I will, and

make him heartily repent it," said Philip to himself,

with a countenance quite red with anger. His mind
was so engaged that he did not see Stephen, who hap-
pened at that instant to meet him.
2. "Who is that," said Stephen, "on whom you in-

tend to be revenged?" Philip, as if awakened from a

 FOURTH READER. 95

j
dream, stopped short, and looking at his friend, soon

J
|
resumed a smile that was natural to his countenance.
1

"Ah," said he, "you remember my bamboo, a very

pretty cane which was given me by my father, do you
!

|
not? Look! there it is in pieces. It was farmer
f
!
Robinson's son who reduced it to this worthless
Hi state."
3. Stephen very coolly asked him what had induced
'
young Robinson to break it. "I was walking peace-
ably along," replied he, "and was playing with my
i
I cane by twisting it round my body. By accident, one
' |
of the ends slipped out of my hand, when I was oppo-
8
jsite the gate, just by the wooden bridge, where the ill—
e
natured fellow had put down a pitcher of water,
d
which he was taking home from the well.
4. " It so happened that my cane, in springing

I
back, upset the pitcher, but did not break it. He
,i
jcame up close to me, and began to call me names,
I', iwhen I assured him that what I had done had hap-
I ipened by accident, and that I was sorry for it. With-
out regarding what I said, he instantly seized my
!
|cane, and twisted it, as you see; but I will make
|him repent of it."
5. "To be sure," said Stephen, "he is a very
wicked boy, and is already very properly punished for
ibeing such, since nobody likes him or will have any
Ithing to do with him. He can scarcely find a com-
4 jpanion to play with him; and is often at a loss for
1. amusement, as he deserves to be. This, properly con-
mi |sidered, I think will appear sufficient revenge for
p- you."

I
6. "All this is true," replied Philip, "but he has
in broken my cane. It was a present from my father,
i! land a very pretty cane it was. I offered to fill his
96 ECLECTIC SERIES.

pitcher for him again, as I knocked it down by acci-

dent. I will be revenged."
7. "Now, "I think you will
Philip/' said Stephen,
act better in not minding him, as your contempt will
be the best punishment you can inflict upon him. Be
assured, he will always be able to do more mischief to
you than you choose to do to him. And, now I
think of it, I will tell you what happened to him not
long since.
8. "Very unluckily for him, he chanced to see a
bee, hovering about a flower, which he caught, and
was going to pull oif its wings out of sport, when the
animal stung him, and flew away in safety to the hive.
The pain put him into a furious passion, and, like
you, he vowed revenge. He accordingly procured a
stick, and thrust it into the bee-hive.
9. "In an whole swarm flew out, and
instant the
alightingupon him stung him in a hundred different
places. He uttered the most piercing cries, and rolled
upon the ground in the excess of his agony. His
father immediately ran to him, but could not put the
bees to flight until they had stung him so severely
that he was confined several days to his bed.
10. "Thus, you see, he was not very successful in

his pursuit of revenge. I would advise you, therefore,

to pass over his insult. He is a wicked boy, and
much stronger than you; so that your ability tc

obtain this revenge may be doubtful."

11. "I must own," replied Philip, "that your ad-
vice seems very good. So come along with me, and 1
will tell my whole matter, and I think hi
father the
will not be angry with me." They went, and Philip
told his father what had happened. He thankee
Stephen for the good advice he had given his son
 FOURTH READER. 97

and promised Philip to give him another cane exactly

like the first.

12. A few days afterward, Philip saw this ill-

natured boy fall as he was carrying home a heavy log

of wood, which he could not lift up again. Philip
ran to him, and helped him to replace it on his
shoulder. Young Robinson was quite ashamed at the
thought of this unmerited kindness, and heartily re-
pented of his behavior. Philip went home quite satis-
fied. "This," said he, "is the noblest vengeance I
could take, in returning good for evil. It is impossi-
ble I should repent of it."

Definitions. — Ke-venge', return for an injury. Re-pgnt',

1.

to feel sorry for. Coun'te-nance, the face. 2. Be-sumed', took

igain. 3. In-duced', caused. 4. As-sured', declared positively. Re-
garding, noticing. 5. Con-sid'ered, thought of carefully. 7. Con-
tSmpt', disdain, scorn. In-fliet', to impose, to put on. 8. H6v /-
3r-ing, hanging over or about. 9. Ag'o-ny, very great pain. 10.
A-biFi-ty, power.

Exercises. —What is revenge ? Is it right to take revenge

m those who injure us? How should we treat such persons?

XXXIV. EVENING HYMN.

1. Come to the sunset tree,

The day is past and gone;
The woodman's ax lies free,
And the reaper's work is done;
The twilight star to heaven,
And the summer dew to flowers,
And rest to us is given,
By the soft evening hours.
(4.-7.)
 ECLECTIC SERIES.

2. Sweet is the hour of rest,

Pleasant the woods' low sigh,
And the gleaming of the west,
And the turf whereon we lie,
When the burden and the heat
Of the laborer's task is o'er,

And kindly voices greet

The tired one at the door.

3. Yes, tuneful is the sound

That dwells in whispering boughs:
Welcome the freshness round,
And the gale that fans our brows;
But rest more sweet and still
Than ever the night-fall gave,
Our yearning hearts shall fill,

In the world beyond the grave.

4. There, shall no tempests blow,

Nor scorching noontide heat;
There, shall be no more snow,
No weary, wandering feet;
So we lift our trusting eyes
From the hills our fathers trod,
To the quiet of the skies,
To the Sabbath of our God.
 FOURTH READER. 99

XXXV. HOW MARGERY WONDERED.

By Lucy Larcom.

1. One bright morning late in March, little Mar-

gery put on her hood and her Highland plaid shawl,
and went trudging across the beach. It was the first

time she had been trusted out alone, for Margery was
a little girl; nothing about her was large, except her

round gray eyes, which had yet scarcely opened upon

half a dozen springs and summers.
2. There was a pale mist on the far-off sea and sky,

and up around the sun were white clouds edged with

the hues of pinks and violets. The sunshine and the
mild air made Margery's very heart warm, and
feel
she let the soft wind blow aside her Highland shawl,
as she looked across the waters at the sun, and won-
dered! For, somehow, the sun had never looked be-
fore as it did to-day ;
—
it seemed like a great golden

flower bursting out of its pearl-lined calyx, —a flower

without a stem. Or was there a strong stem away be-
hind it down below the sea,
in the sky, that reached
to a root, nobody could guess where?
3. Margery did not stop to puzzle herself about the

answer to her question, for now the tide was coming

in, and the waves, little at first, but growing larger

every moment, were crowding up along the sand and

pebbles, laughing, winking, and whispering, as they
tumbled over each other, like thousands of children
hurrying home from somewhere, each with its own
precious little secret to tell.

4. Where did the waves come from? Who was

down there under the blue wall of the horizon, with
the hoarse, hollow voice, urging and pushing them
100 ECLECTIC SERIES.

across the beach at her feet? And what secret was it

they were lisping to each other with their pleasant

voices? Oh, what was there beneath the sea, and be-
yond the sea, so deep, so broad, and so dim, too, away
off where the white ships, that looked smaller than
sea-birds, were gliding out and in?
5. But while Margery stood still for a moment on a

dry rock, and wondered, there came a low, rippling

warble to her ear from a cedar tree on the cliff above
her. It had been a long winter, and Margery had
forgotten that there were birds, and that birds could
sing. So she wondered again what the music was.
6. And when she saw the bird perched on a yellow-

brown bough, she wondered yet more. It was only a

bluebird, but then it was the first bluebird Margery
had ever seen. He fluttered among the prickly twigs,
 FOURTH READER. 101

and looked as if he had grown out of them, as the

cedar berries had, which were dusty blue, the color of
his coat. Bat how did the music get in his throat?
And was in his throat, how could it untangle
after it
itself, and wind itself off so evenly? And where had
the bluebird flown from, across the snow banks down
to the shore of the blue sea?
7. The waves sang a welcome to him, and he sang
a welcome to the waves; they seemed to know each
other well; and the ripple and the warble sounded so
much alike, the bird and the wave must have both
learned their music of the same teacher. And Mar-
gery kept on wondering as she stepped between the
song of the bluebird and the echo of the sea, and
climbed a sloping bank, just turning faintly green in
the spring sunshine.
8. The grass was surely beginning to grow! There
were fresh, juicy shoots running up among the with-
ered blades of last year, as if in hopes of bringing
them back to- life; and closer down she saw the sharp
points of new spears peeping from their sheaths. And
scattered here and there were small, dark green leaves
folded around buds shut up so tightly that only those
who had watched them many seasons could tell what
flowers were to be let out of their safe prisons by and
by. So no one could blame Margery for not knowing
that they were only common things, nor for stooping
over the tiny buds, and wondering.
9. "What made the grass come up so green out of the
black earth? And how did the buds know when it
was time to take off their little green hoods, and see
what there was in the world around them? And how
came they to be buds at all? Did they bloom in
another world before they sprung up here? and did —
102 ECLECTIC SERIES.

they know, themselves, what kind of flowers they

should blossom into? Had flowers souls, like little

girls, that would live in another world when their

forms had faded away in this?
10. Margery thought she would like to sit down on
the bank, and wait beside the buds until they opened;
perhaps they would tell her their secret if the very
first thing they saw was her eyes watching them. One
bud was beginning to was streaked with
unfold ; it

yellow in little stripes that she could imagine became

wider every minute. But she would not touch it, for
it seemed almost as much alive as herself. She only
wondered, and wondered !

11. Margery heard her mother calling her, and she

trudged home across the shells and pebbles with a
pleasant smile dimpling her cheeks; for she felt very
much at home and was
in this large, wonderful world,
happy to be alive, although she neither could have told,
nor cared to know, the reason why. But when her
mother unpinned the little girl's Highland shawl, and
took off her hood, she said, "O mother, do let me
live on the door-step! I don't like houses to stay in.
What makes every thing so pretty and so glad?
Don't you like to wonder?"
12. Margery's mother was a good woman. But
then there was all the housework to do, and, if she
had thoughts, she did not often let them wander
outside of the kitchen door. And just now she was
baking some gingerbread, which was in danger of get-
ting burned in the oven. So she pinned the shawl
around the child's neck again, and left her on the
door-step, saying to herself, as she returned to her
work, " Queer child ! I wonder what kind of a woman
"
she will be !
 -

FOURTH READER. 103

;
13. But Margery
sat on the door-step, and won-
dered, as the sounded louder, and the sunshine
sea
grew warmer around her. It was all so strange, and
grand, and beautiful Her heart danced with joy to
!

the music that went echoing through the wide world

[
from the roots of the sprouting grass to the great
•golden blossom of the sun.
14, And when the round, gray eyes closed that
night, at the first peep of the stars, the angels looked
down and wondered over Margery. For the wisdom
of the wisest being God has made, ends in wonder;
and there is nothing on earth so wonderful as the
budding soul of a little child.

Definitions. — 1. Trudg'ing, walking sturdily. 2. Hue§, colors.

Ca/lyx, the outer covering of a flower. 4. Ho-rr'zon, the line where

the sky and earth seem to meet 5. War'ble, a trill of the voice.

8. Spears., shoots of grass. Sheaths, coverings.

Exercises. —Name the things about which Margery won-

dered. What did she wonder about each? What is still more
wonderful than all that at which Margery wondered?

XXXVI. THE CHILD'S WORLD.

1. "Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful world,

With the wonderful water round you curled,
And the wonderful grass upon your breast, —
World, you are beautifully drest.

2. "The wonderful air is over me,

And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree;
It walks on the water, and whirls the mills,

And talks to itself on the tops of the hills.

 ! "

104 ECLECTIC SERIES.

3. "You friendly Earth! how far do yon go
With the wheat-fields that nod, and the
rivers that flow;
"With cities and gardens, and cliffs and isles,

And people upon you for thousands of miles?

4. "Ah, you are so great, and I am so small,

I tremble to think of you, World, at all:

And yet, when I said my prayers, to-day,

A whisper inside me seemed to say,
'
You are more than the Earth, though
you are such a dot:
You can love and think, and the Earth
? "
cannot

XXXVII. SUSIE'S COMPOSITION.

1. Susie Smith came home from school one day,

and had no sooner entered the sitting-room than she

burst into tears. "What is the matter, my dear
child?" said her mother, drawing her daughter to her
side and smiling.
2. "O mother, matter enough," sobbed Susie. "All
our class must bring in compositions to-morrow morn-
ing, and I never, never can write one. We must
write twelve lines at least, and I have written only a
few words after trying nearly all the afternoon. See
what work I have made of it !

3. Mrs. Smith took the rumpled, tear-stained paper

which Susie held in her hand, and glanced at what

she had written. In a careful hand she had tried to
 FOURTH READER. 105

write upon three themes: "Time/' "Temperance/ 7

and "Industry."
4. "Time is short. We should all improve our
time." "Temperance is a very useful thing." "We
should all be industrious if we wish to do any thing
in the world." These sentences were all she had
written.
5. "Now," said Susie, "I can't think of another
word to say upon any of these subjects, and I know I
shall have
go to school without a composition, for
to
I won't be so mean as to copy one from a book, or
to ask you or papa to write one for me."
6. "That is right, my dear," said her mother. "You
will be far happier with a poor composition, if it is

all your own, than with a fineone written by some-

body else. But cheer up. You have not begun
right —you to write upon subjects
have been trying
that you know nothing about. Run into the garden
and play. I will call you in half an hour."
7. "But my composition," began Susie. "Don't
think about your composition while you are gone,"
said Mrs. Smith, "but have as pleasant a time as you
can."
8. It seemed but a few minutes to Susie before she
heard her mother's voice calling her. She went into
the house at once —her hands full of sweet flowers, and
her cheeks rosy with exercise.
"Now, Susie/' said her mother, "I want you to
9.

sit by the window with this nice sheet of paper and a

pencil, and write something about what you can see."
"But my composition, mother," said Susie; "when
shall I begin that?" "Never mind your composition,
my dear; do this to please me, and we will talk about
that by and by."
106 ECLECTIC SERIES.

thought her mother's request was a strange

10. Susie
one; but she knew that she always had a good reason
for everything she did: so she took the paper and
pencil, and sat by the window.
11. "Do not talk to me at all," said her mother.
"Look out of the window, and then write down your
thoughts about everything you see."
12. Susie could not help laughing, it seemed such a
funny thing to be doing. As she looked out, she first
saw the western sky and some bright, sunset clouds.
" O mother " she exclaimed, " what a splendid sun-
!

set !
" " Don't talk," said her mother, " but write."
13. "I'll write about the sunset, then," said she,
and the pencil began to move rapidly across the
paper. In a few moments she said, " Mother, shall I
read "No, not now,"
you what I have written?"
answered her mother; "I am going into the dining-
room. You may sit and write until I return."
14. As Susie went on writing she became very much
interested in her occupation, and for a time forgot all
about the dreaded composition. She. wrote about the
sunset clouds, the appearance of the distant hills, the
trees, the river, the garden with its gay flowers, and
the birds flying past the window.
15. Just as she had reached the bottom of the page,
her mother came in. " Well, Susie," said she, with a
smile, "how does that composition come on?" "Com-
position!" exclaimed Susie; "you told me not to
think about my composition, and 1 have not thought
of it once; I have had such a nice time writing about
what I could see from the window."
Mrs. Smith took the paper and read aloud what
16.
Susie had written " I am sitting on a low seat at the
:

bay window, one-half of which is open, so that I can

 FOURTH READER. 107

smell the sweet flowers in the garden. The sky is all

bright with sunset; I can see purple, and pink, and

golden. I do not believe that any one on earth has a
paint-box with such lovely colors in it.

17. "I can see one cloud, far above the rest, that
looks like a ship sailing in the blue sea. I should
like to sail on a cloud, if it would not make me
dizzy. Now, while I
have been writing, the
clouds have changed in
color and form, but they
are just as beautiful as
they were before.

18. "The green hills are tipped with light, and

look as if they were wearing golden crowns. I can
see a river a great way off, and it looks quite still,

although I know it is running as fast as it can to get

to the ocean.
108 ECLECTIC SERIES.

19. "The birds are flying past the window to go

home and take care of their little ones. I am glad
the birds are not afraid to live in our garden, and to
build nests in our trees.
20. "Our garden is full of flowers —pinks, lilies,

and Mother calls this the month of roses. My

roses.
birthday will come in a week, and we can have all
the flowers we wish for wreaths and bouquets."
21. "There, Susie," said Mrs. Smith, "that is a
very nice composition, indeed." "A composition!"
exclaimed Susie, "is that a composition?" "Yes, my
dear, and a very good one, too," replied her mother.
"When it hasn't even a subject?"
22. "We can find one for it, and I do not doubt it
will please your teacher, as it does me. You see, my
dear," continued her mother, "that it is easy enough
to write if you have any thing interesting to write
about,"
23. The next morning Susie copied her composition
very neatly, and started to school with a happy heart,
saying, as she gave her mother a kiss, "Just think
how funny it is, dear mother, that I should have
written so long a composition without knowing it."

—
Definitions. C5m-po-§i / tion, that which is thought out and
arranged, a written or literary work. 3. Rum'pled, wrinkled,

creased. Themeg, subjects or topics on which a person writes.

10. Re-qugst', that which is asked. 14. Oc-cu-pa'tion, that which
employs the time. 20. Bou-quets' {pro. boo-kas/), bunches of
flowers.

Exercises—What is a composition? Why was Susie so

troubled? Why
could she not write about "Time," "Temper-
ance," or "Industry"? What did her mother have her do?
What did Susie write? Was it a composition? Did she know,
at the time, that it was? What fault did she find with it?
Can you give her composition a proper subject?
 ;

FOURTH READER. 109

XXXVIII. THE SUMMER SHOWER.

The author, Thomas Buchanan Read, was born in Chester Co., Pa.,
March 12, 1822. His life was devoted to the fine arts, and he attained
a high reputation both as artist and poet. He died in New York,
May 11, 1872.

1. Before the stout harvesters falleth the grain,

As when the strong storm-wind is reaping the plain,
And boy in the briery lane;
loiters the

But yonder aslant comes the silvery rain,

Like a long line of spears brightly burnished and tall.

2. Adown the white highway like cavalry fleet,

It dashes the dust with its numberless feet.

Like a murmurless school, in their leafy retreat,
The wild birds sit listening the drops round
them beat;
And the boy crouches close to the blackberry wall.

3.The swallows alone take the storm on the wing,

And, taunting the tree-sheltered laborers, sing.
Like pebbles the rain breaks the face of the spring,
While a bubble darts up from each widening ring;
And the boy in dismay hears the loud shower fall.

4. But soon are the harvesters tossing their sheaves;

The robin darts out from his bower of leaves;
The wren peereth forth from the moss-covered
eaves
And the rain-spattered urchin now gladly perceives
That the beautiful bow bendeth over them all.

Definitions. — 1. A-slant', toward one side. 2. Highway, a

public road. Re-treat7 , a place of refuge or safety. Crouch'eg,
stoops low. 3. Taunt'ing, deriding, mocking. 4. Urchin, a child.
110 ECLECTIC SERIES.

XXXIX. CONSEQUENCES OP IDLENESS.

1. Many young persons seem to think it of not

much consequence if they do not improve their time
well in youth, vainly expecting that they canmake it
up by when they are older. They also
diligence
think it is disgraceful for men and women to be idle,
but that there can be no harm for persons who are
young to spend their time in any manner they
please.
2. George Jones thought so. When he was twelve
years old, he went to an academy to prepare to enter
college. His father was at great expense in obtaining
books for him, clothing him, and paying his tuition.
But George was idle. The preceptor of the academy
would often tell him that if he did not study dili-
gently when young he would never succeed well.
3. But George thought of nothing but present
pleasure. He would often go to school without hav-
ing made any preparation for his morning lesson and, ;

when called to recite with his class, he would stammer

and make such blunders that the rest of the class
could not help laughing at him. He was one of the
poorest scholars in the school, because he was one of
the most idle.
4. When recess came, and all the boys ran out of
the academy upon the play-ground, idle George would
come moping along. Instead of studying diligently
while in school, he was indolent and half asleep.
When the proper time for play came, he had no
relish for it. I recollect very well, that, when "toss-
ing up" for a game of ball, we used to choose every
body on the play-ground before we chose George;
 FOURTH READER. Ill

land if there were enough without him we used to

leave him out. Thus he was unhappy in school and
out of school.
5. There is nothing which makes a person enjoy
play so well as to study hard. When recess was over,
'and the rest of the boys returned, fresh and vigorous,
to George might be seen lagging and
their studies,
jmoping along to his seat. Sometimes he would be
asleep in school; sometimes he would pass his time in
batching flies, and penning them up in little holes,
which he cut in his seat; and sometimes, when the
preceptor's back was turned, he would throw a paper
ball across the room.
6. When the class was called up to recite, George

Jwould come drowsily along, looking as mean and

ashamed as though he were going to be whipped.
The rest of the class stepped up to the recitation with
ilacrity, and appeared happy and contented. When it
bame George's turn to recite, he would be so long in
3oing it, and make such blunders, that all most
leartily wished him out of the class.

!
7. At last, George went with his class to enter col-

lege. Though he passed a very poor examination, he

was admitted with the rest; for those who examined
lim thought it was possible that the reason why he
lid not answer questions better was because he was
frightened. Now came hard times for poor George,
[n college there is not much mercy shown to bad
scholars; and George had neglected his studies so
ong that he could not now keep up with his class,
et him try ever so hard.
8. Hecould, without much difficulty, get along in
;he academy, where there were only two or three boys.
)f his own class to laugh at him. But now he had
112 ECLECTIC SERIES.

to go into a large recitation room, filled with students

from all parts of the country. In the presence of all
these, he must rise and recite to a professor. Poor
fellow! He paid dearly for his idleness.
9. You would have pitied him if you could have
seen him trembling in his seat, every moment expect-
ing to be called upon to recite. And when he was
called upon, he would stand up and take what the
class called a "dead set;" that is, he could not recite
at all. he would make such ludicrous
Sometimes
blunders that the whole class would burst into a
laugh. Such are the applauses an idler gets. He was
wretched, of course. He had been idle so long that
he hardly knew how to apply his mind to study. All
the good scholars avoided him; they were ashamed to
be seen in his company. He became discouraged, and
gradually grew dissipated.
10. The officers of the college were soon compelled
to suspend him. He returned in a few months, but
did no better; and his father was then advised to
take him from college. He left college, despised by
every one. A few months ago, I met him, a poor
wanderer, without money and without friends. Such
are the wages of idleness. hope every reader will,
I
from this history, take warning, and " stamp improve-
ment on the wings of time."

Definitions. — 1. CSn'se-quenge, importance, influence. 2.

A-ead'e-my, a school of high order. 051'lege, a seminary of learn-

ing of the highest order. Pre-cep'tor, a teacher. 3. Prep-a-ra/-
tion, a ?naking ready. Vig'or-ous, full of activity and strength.
5.

6. A-lac'ri-ty, cheerfulness, sprig htliness. 8. Professor, a teacher

in a college. 9. Lu'di-eroiis, adapted to raise laughter. Ap-

plau§'e§, praises. Dis'-si-pat-ed, given up to vicious habits. 10.
Im-prove / ment, increase of knowledge.
 FOURTH READER. 113

XL. ADVANTAGES OP INDUSTRY.

: 1. I gave you, in the last lesson, the history of

George Jones, an idle boy, and showed you the con-
\
sequences of his idleness. I shall now give you the
!
history of Charles Bullard, a classmate of George.
,
Charles was about the same age as George, and did not
possess superior talents.Indeed, I doubt whether he
was equal to him in natural powers of mind.
I
2. But Charles was a hard student. When quite
'
young, he was always careful and diligent in school.
Sometimes, when there was a very hard lesson, instead
of going out to play during recess, he would stay in to
I ; study. He had resolved that his first object should
be to get his lessons well, and then he could play
with a good conscience. He loved play as well as any
1
'

body, and was one of the best players on the ground,

t
I hardly ever saw any boy catch a ball better than
j j
he could. When playing any game, every one was
t glad to get Charles on his side.
i
!
3. I have said that Charles would sometimes stay in
\ at recess. This, however, was very seldom ; it was
|
j
only when the lessons were very hard indeed. Gen-
j.
j
erally, he was among the first on the play-ground,
and he was also among the first to go into school
when called. Hard study gave him a relish for play,
,
and play again gave him a relish for hard study; so
he was happy both in school and out. The preceptor
i
j could not help liking him, for he always had his
lessons well committed, and never gave him any
j
trouble.

I
4. When he went to enter college, the preceptor
(gave him a good recommendation. He was able to
|
(4.-8.)
114 ECLECTIC SERIES.

answer all the questions which were put to him when

he was examined. He
had studied so well when he
was in the academy, and was so thoroughly prepared
for college, that he found it very easy to keep up
with his class, and had much time for reading inter-
esting books.
5.But he would always get his lesson well before
he did any thing else, and would review it just before

recitation. When called upon to recite, he rose tran-

quil and happy, and very seldom made mistakes. The
officers of the college had a high opinion of him, and

he was respected by all the students.

6. There was, in the college, a society made up of

all the best scholars. Charles was chosen a member

of that society. It was the custom to choose some one
of the society to deliver a public address every year.
This honor was conferred on Charles; and he had
studied so diligently, and read so much, that he deliv-
ered an address which was very interesting to all who
heard it,

7. At last he graduated, as it is called ; that is, he

and received his degree.
finished his collegiate course,
It was known by all that he was a good scholar, and
by all that he was respected. His father and mother,
brothers and sisters, came on the commencement day
to hear him speak.
8. They all felt gratified, and loved Charles more
than ever. Many situations of usefulness and profit
were opened to him; for Charles was now an intelli-
gent man, and universally respected. He is still a
useful and a happy man. He has a cheerful home,
and isesteemed by all who know him.
9. Such are the rewards of industry. How strange
it is that any person should be willing to live in idle-
 FOURTH READER. 115

ness, when it will certainly make him unhappy! The

idle boy is almost invariably poor and miserable ; the
industrious boy happy and prosperous.
is

10. But perhaps some child who reads this, asks,

"Does God notice little children in school?" He cer-
tainly does. And if you are not diligent in the im-
provement of your time, it is one of the surest evi-
dences that your heart is not right with God. You
are placed in this world to improve your time. In
youth you must be preparing for future usefulness.
And if you do not improve the advantages you enjoy,
you sin against your Maker.

With books, or work, or healthful play,

Let your first years be passed;
That you may give, for every day,
Some good account, at last.

—
Definitions. 1. His'to-ry, a description or a narration of
events. 2. Conscience, our own knowledge of right and wrong.

Game, play, sport. 3. Com-mit'ted, fixed in mind. 4. Ree-om-

men-da'tion, what is said in praise of any one. 5. Ke view', to
examine again. Tran'quil, quiet, calm. 6. Con-ferred', given to

or bestowed upon any one. 7. Grad'u-at-ed, received a degree from

a college. Com-mence'ment, the day when students receive their
degree. 8. U-ni-vers'al-ly, by all, without exception. 9. In-va/ri-
a-bly, always, uniformly. 10. Ev'i-den-ceg, proofs. Ad-van'ta-ges.,
opportunities for improvement.

Exercises. —"What
was the character of George Jones? Of
Charles Bullard? How
did George appear in the class at
school? How did he behave at recess? How did Charles dif-
fer from him in these respects? Relate what happened when
George went to college. What became of him ? Did Charles
succeed at college ? Which of them do you think more worthy
of imitation? What is said of the idle? What is said of the
industrious? Who our actions wherever we may
watches all

be? For what are we placed in this world? Should you not
then be diligent in your studies?
 ! ;

116 ECLECTIC SERIES.

XLI. THE FOUNTAIN.

By James Russell Lowell, one of the most noted of American poets;
also well known as an essayist and lecturer. He was born at Cam-
bridge, Mass., in 1819.

5.

Into the sunshine, Glad of all weathers,

Full of the light, Still seeming best,

Leaping and flashing, Upward or downward,

From morn till night! Motion, thy rest;

2. 6.

Into the moonlight, Full of a nature

Whiter than snow, Nothing can tame,
Waving so flower-like Changed every moment,
When the winds blow Ever the same

3. 7.

Into the starlight, Ceaseless aspiring,

Rushing in spray, Ceaseless content,
Happy at midnight, Darkness or sunshine
Happy by day! Thy element;

8.

Ever in motion, Glorious fountain!

Blithesome and cheery, Let my heart be
Still climbing heavenward, Fresh, changeful, constant,
Never aweary; Upward like thee!

Definitions. — 4. Blithesome, gay. Cheeky, in good spirits.

A-wea'ry, weary, tired. 7. As-pTr'ing, ambitious. El'e-ment, thi

proper habitation or sphere of any thing, suitable state. 8. CSn'-
stant, fixed, not to be changed.
 FOURTH READER. 117

XLII. COFFEE.

1. The coffee-tree is a native of

it was in Arabia
Eastern Africa, but
that itbecame known to the
first

people of Europe, and until about

the year 1700 A. D. that country
afforded the entire supply.
2. Then the coffee seeds found
their way to Java, by means of
some traders, and one of the first

plants grown on that island was sent as a

present to the governor of the Dutch East
India Company, who lived in Holland.
3. was planted in the Botanical Gar-
It
dens at Amsterdam, and in a few years
seeds taken from it were sent to South
America, where the cultivation of coffee has
steadily increased, extending to the West
Indies, until now the offspring of this one
plant produce more coffee than is obtained
from all the other plants in the world.
118 ECLECTIC SERIES.

4o The plant is an evergreen, and is from six to

twelve feet high, the stem being from ten to fifteen
inches in diameter. The lower branches bend down
when the tree begins to grow old, and extend them-
selves into a round form somewhat like an umbrella;
and the wood is so pliable that the ends of the largest
branches may be bent down to within two or three
feet of the earth.
5. The bark is whitish and somewhat rough. A
tree is never without leaves, which are at small dis-
tances from one another, and on almost opposite sides
of a bough. Blossoms and green and ripe fruit may-
be seen on the same tree at the same time. When the
blossom falls off, there grows in its place a small green
fruit, which becomes dark red as it ripens.
6. This fruit is not unlike a cherry, and is very
good to eat. Under the pulp of this cherry is found
the bean or berry we call coffee, wrapped in a fine,
thin skin. The berry is at first very soft, and has a
bad taste; but as the cherry ripens the berry grows
harder, and the dried-up fruit becomes a shell or pod
of a deep brown color.
7.The berry is now solid, and its color is a trans-
lucent green. Each shell contains two seeds, rounded
on one side and flat on the other. The seeds lie with
the flat sides together, and, in one highly prized
variety, the two seeds grow together, forming one:
this is known as the pea-berry. When the fruit is so
ripe that it can be shaken from the tree, the husks
are separated from the berries, and are used, in
Arabia, by the natives, while the berries are sold.
8. The young plants are inserted in holes from
twelve to eighteen inches deep, and six or eight feet

apart. If left to themselves, they would grow to the

 FOURTH READER. 119

height of eighteen or twenty feet; but they are usually

dwarfed by pruning, so that the fruit may be easily
got at by the gatherer.
|
9. Thus dwarfed, they extend their branches until

I
they cover the whole spot about them. They begin
!to yield fruit the third year. By the sixth or seventh
iyear they are at full bearing, and continue to bear for
twenty years or more.
10. Before the berry can be used, it undergoes a
process of roasting. The amount of aromatic oil

brought out in roasting has much to do with the

market value of coffee, and it has been found that
the longer the raw coffee is kept, the richer it be-
comes in this peculiar oil, and so the more valuable.
But after the coffee is roasted, and especially after it
is ground, it loses its aroma rapidly.

11. Arabia produces the celebrated Mocha, or

j"Mokha," coffee, which is the finest in the world;
but little or none of the best product is ever taken
out of that country. The Java coffee from the East
Indies is next prized, but the best quality of this
kind is also quite difficult to obtain, and many, there-
fore, prefer the finest grades of Rio coffee from South
America to such Mocha and Java as can be had in
our country.

Definitions. — 1. Af-ford'ed, yielded, produced. 3. Offspring,

descendants, however remote, from the stock. 4. Pli'a-ble, easily
bent. Trans-lucent, permitting the passage of light. 8. Prun-
7.

ing, trimming. 10. Ar-o-mat'ie, containing aroma, fragrant.

Exercises. —What country first supplied coffee? How did

the plant come to be grown in other countries? Describe the
plant. What is said of the fruit? How are the plants culti-
vated? What is said' about the roasting of coffee? What are the
jthree principal kinds of coffee used, and how are they valued?
120 ECLECTIC SERIES.

XLIII. THE WINTER-KING.

1. Oh! what will become of thee, poor little bird?

The muttering storm in the distance is heard;
The rough winds are waking, the clouds growing
black,
They'll soon scatter snow-flakes all over thy back!
From what sunny clime bast thou wandered away?
And what art thou doing this cold winter day?

2. "I'm picking the gum from the old peach-tree;

The storm doesn't trouble me. Pee, dee, dee!"

3. But what makes thee seem so unconscious of care?

The brown earth is frozen, the branches are bare:
And how canst thou be so light-hearted and free,
As if danger and suffering thou never should'st see,
When no place is near for thy evening nest,
No leaf for thy screen, for thy bosom no rest?

4. "Because the same Hand is a shelter for me,

That took off the summer leaves. Pee, dee, dee " !

5. But man feels a burden of care and of grief,

While plucking the cluster and binding the sheaf:
In the summer we faint, in the winter we're chilled,
With ever a void that is yet to be filled.

We take from the ocean, the earth, and the air,

Yet all their rich gifts do not silence our care.

6. "A very small portion sufficient will be,

If sweetened with gratitude. Pee, dee, dee!"
 FOURTH READER. 121

7. But soon there'll be ice weighing down the light

bough,
On which thou art flitting so playfully now;
And though there's a vesture well fitted and warm,
Protecting the rest of thy delicate form,
What, then, wilt thou do with thy little bare feet,
To save them from pain, mid the frost and the sleet?

8. "I can draw them right up in my feathers, you see,

To warm them, and fly away. Pee, dee, dee!"

9. I thank thee, bright monitor; what thou hast taught

Will oft be the theme of the happiest thought;
We look at the clouds; while the birds have an eye
To Him who reigns over them, changeless and high.
And now, little hero, just tell me thy name,
That I may be sure whence my oracle came.

10. i(
Because, in all weather, I'm merry and free,

They call me the Winter-king. Pee, dee, dee!"

Definitions. — murmuring, rumbling. 3. Un-

1. Mtit'ter-ing,
eSn'scious, not knowing, not perceiving. 5. Cluster, a bunch. 7.

Flit/ting, moving about in a lively manner. VSst'ure, clothing,

/
9. M6n i-tor, one who warns of faults.
/
\covering. Or a-ele, a wise
sentence or decision.

XLIV. THE NETTLE.

1. Anna. O papa! I have stung my hand with
that nettle.
2. Father. Well, my dear, I am sorry for it; but
pull up that large dock-leaf you see near it; now
bruise the juice out of it on the part which is stung.
Well, is the pain lessened?
122 ECLECTIC SERIES.

3. A. Oh, very much indeed, I hardly feel it now.

But I wish there was not a nettle in the world. I am

sure I do not know what use there can be in them.
4. F. If you knew any thing of botany, Nanny,

you would not say so.

5. A. What is botany, papa?

6. F. Botany, my dear, is the knowledge of plants.

7. A. Some plants are very beautiful. If the lily

were growing in our fields, I should not complain.
But this ugly nettle! I do not know what beauty or
use there can be in that.
8. F. And yet, Nanny, there is more beauty, use,
and instruction in a nettle, than even in a lily.

9. A. O papa, how can you make that out?

10. F. Put on your gloves, pluck up that nettle,
and let us examine it. First, look at the flower.
11. A. The flower, papa? I see no flower, unless
those little ragged knobs are flowers, which have
neither color nor smell, and are not much larger than
the heads of pins.
12. F. Here, take this magnifying-glass and examine
them.
13. A. Oh, I see now; every little knob is folded up
in leaves, like a rose-bud. Perhaps there is a flower
inside.
14. F. Try; take this pin and touch the knob.
Well, what do you see?
15. A. Oh, how curious!
16. F. What is curious?
17. A. The moment I touched it, it flew open. A
little cloud rose out like enchantment, and four beau-
tiful little stems sprung up as if they were alive; and,
now that I look again with the glass, I see an elegant
little flower as nice and perfect as a lily itself.
 FOURTH READER. 123

l i now examine the leaves.

18. F. Well,
i i A. Oh, I see they are all covered over with little
19.
1

bristles; and when I examine them with the glass, I

v
:

see a little bag, filled with a juice like water, at the

1

bottom of each. Ha ! these are the things which stung

i me.
Is,
j
20. F. Now touch the little bag with the point of
ly ithe pin.

i,
21. A. When I press the bag, the juice runs up
j

oi
and comes out at the small point at the top so I sup-
|
;

jjpose the little thorn must be hollow inside, though it

s i,
is finer than the point of my cambric needle.
22. F. Have all the leaves those stings?
j
A. No, papa; some of the young ones are quite
23.

If
I soft, like velvet, and I may handle them
green and
without any danger,
es;
24. F. Now look at the stem, and break it.

ffl
25. A. I can easily crack it, but I can not break it
;

ji
|
asunder, for the bark is so strong that it holds it
[together.

in I 26. -P. now you

see there are more curious
Well,
ithings in the nettle thanyou expected.
ii
1 27. A. Yes, indeed, I see that. But you have often
d jtold me that God makes nothing without its use; and

ji am sure I can not see any use in all these things,

i 28. F. That we will now consider.

|
You saw the
•
little flower burst open, and a cloud rose, you say, like

[enchantment. Now all this is necessary for the nature

jof the plant. There are many thousand plants in the
lljworld, and it has pleased God, in his wisdom, to make
fllthem all different. Now look at this other nettle,
Dill which grew on the opposite side of the road; you see
ai:| that it is not exactly like the one you have just ex-
amined.
 124 ECLECTIC SERIES.

29. A. No, papa; this has little flat seeds instead of

flowers.
30. F. Very right, my dear. Now, in order to make
those seeds grow, it is necessary that the little flower
of this plant and the seed of that should be together,
as they are in most others. But plants can not walk,!
like animals. The wisdom of God, therefore, has pro-
vided a remedy for this. When the little flower bursts
open it throws out a fine powder, which you saw rise!

like a cloud; this isconveyed by the air to the other|

plant, and when it falls upon the seed of that plant it
gives it power to grow, and makes it a perfect seedJ
which, in its turn, when it falls to the ground, will!
produce a new plant. Were it not for this fine pow-|
der, that seedwould never be perfect or complete.
31. A. That is very curious, indeed; and I see the-?
use of the little cloud and the flower; but the leaf
that stung me, of what use can that be? There, dear
papa, I am afraid I puzzle you to tell me that.
32. F. Even these stings are made useful to man.
The poor people in some countries use them instead
of blisters, when they are sick. Those leaves which
do not sting are used by some for food, and from the
stalk others get a stringy bark, which answers the
purpose of Thus you see that even the despised
flax.

nettle is not made in vain; and this lesson may serve

to teach you that we only need to understand the
works of God to see that "in goodness and wisdom he
has made them all."

—
Definitions. 12. Mag'ni-fy-ing-glass, an instrument used to
make objects appear larger. 17. En-chant'ment, magic art, witch-
craft. 5. A-sun'der, apart, into parts. 30. Rem'e-dy, that which
removes an evil. Con-veyed', carried. 32. String'y, full of
strings.
 FOURTH READER. 125

XLV. THE TEMPEST.

I
By James who was born at Portsmouth, N. H., in 1817. He
T. Fields,
[sa poet, and the author, also, of some well known prose works. Of
these, his "Yesterdays with Authors" is the most noted.

1. We were crowded in the cabin;

Not
a soul would dare to sleep:
It was midnight on the waters,
And a storm was on the deep.
?
2. Tis a fearful thing in winter
To be shattered by the blast,
And trumpet
to hear the rattling
Thunder, "Cut away the mast!"

3. So we shuddered there in silence,

For the stoutest held his breath,
While the hungry sea was roaring,
And the breakers threatened death.

j
4. And as thus we sat in darkness,
Each one busy in his prayers,
"We are lost!" the captain shouted,
As he staggered down the stairs.

5. But his little daughter whispered,

As she took his icy hand,
" Is n't God upon the ocean,
Just the same as on the land?"

6. Then we kissed the little maiden,

And we spoke in better cheer;
And we anchored safe in harbor
When the morn was shining clear.
Definitions. — 1. Deep, the ocean. 2. Blast, tempest. 3. Break'-
'F§, waves of the sea broken by rocks. 6. Cheer, state of mind.
126 ECLECTIC SERIES.

XLVI. THE CREATOR.

The poetry at the close of this selection is by John Keble, a cele-
brated English clergyman, born in 1792. He held for some years the
professorship of Poetry at Oxford University.

1. Come, and I will show you what is beautiful. It

is a rose fully blown. See how she upon her
sits

mossy stem, the queen of flowers. Her leaves glow

like fire. The air is filled with her sweet odor. She
is the delight of every eye.
2. But there is one fairer than the rose. He that
made the rose is more beautiful than the rose. He is
altogether lovely. He is the delight of every heart.
3. I will show you what is strong. The lion is

strong. When he raiseth himself up from his lair,

when he shaketh his mane, when the voice of his roar-

ing is heard, the cattle of the field fly, and the wild

beasts of the desert hide themselves; for he is ter-

rible.

4. But He who made the lion is stronger than the

lion. He can do all things. He gave us life, and in
a moment can take it away, and no one can save us
from his hand.
5. I will show you what is glorious. The sun is

glorious. When
he shineth in the clear sky, when he
sitteth on his throne in the heavens, and looketh
abroad over the earth, he is the most glorious and ex-
cellent object the eye can behold.
6. But He who made the sun is more glorious than
the sun. The eye cannot look on his dazzling bright-
ness. He seeth all dark places, by night as well as by
day. The light of his countenance is over all the
world.
 FOURTH READER. 127

7. This great Being is God. He made all things,

but He is more excellent than all that He has made.
He is the Creator, they are the creatures. They may
be beautiful, but He is Beauty. They may be strong,
but He is Strength. They may be perfect, but He is

Perfection.

8. There is a book, who runs may read,

Which heavenly truth imparts,

And all the lore its scholars need
Pure eyes and loving hearts.

'

9. The works of God, above, below,

Within us, and around,
Are pages in that book, to show
How God himself is found.

10. The glorious sky, embracing all,

Is like the Father's love;

Wherewith encompassed, great and small
In peace and order move.

11. Thou who hast given me eyes to see

And love this sight so fair,
Give me a heart to find out Thee
1

And read Thee every- where.

Definitions. — 1. Blown, blossomed, bloomed. 0 /

dor, smell,
'<cent. 3. Lair, bed of a wild beast. Des/ert, a wilderness, a place
vhere no one lives. 5. Ex'cel-lent, surpassing others in worth, su-
perior. 6. Dazzling, overpowering with light. 7. Per-fec'tion, the
iate of being perfect, so that nothing is wanting. 8. Im-parts',
/
nakes knoivn. Lore, learning. 10. En-e6m passed, surrounded.

Exercises. —What . is described as beautiful ? As strong ?

A.s glorious? Who more beautiful than the
is rose, stronger
;han the lion, and more glorious than the sun? What is the
)ook which we may all read? What should it teach us?
128 ECLECTIC SERIES.

XL VII. THE HORSE.

1. Uncle Thomas. Well, boys, I am glad to see yoi

again. Since I last saw you I have made quite a torn
and at some future time will describe to you what '.

have seen. I promised at this meeting, however, t

tell you something about animals, and I propose t

begin with the Horse. But I know that you lik

stories better than lecturing, so I will proceed at one
to tell you some which I have gathered for you.
2. Frank. We never feel tired of listening to yoi
Uncle Thomas. We know you always have somethin
curious to tell us.
 FOURTH READER. 129

'

3. Uncle Thomas. Well then, Frank, to begin at

|
j
once with the Horse.
j
4.In several parts of the world there are to be
found large herds of wild horses. In South America
the immense plains are inhabited by them, and it is
;
said that ten thousand are sometimes found in a single

J herd. These herds are always preceded by a leader,

iwho directs their motions; and such is the regularity
'

with which they perform their movements, that it

|
! seems as if they could hardly be surpassed by the best
'trained cavalry.
I

! 5. It is extremely dangerous for travelers to meet

la herd of this description. When they are unaccus-

j
Itemed to the sight of such a mass of creatures, they
I [cannot help feeling greatly alarmed at their rapid and
apparently irresistible approach. The trampling of the
animals sounds like distant thunder; and such is the
rapidity and impetuosity of their advance, that -it

>; jseems to threaten instant destruction.

Mil 6. Sometimes, however, they suddenly stop short,
Utter a loud and piercing neigh, and, with a rapid
jwheel, take an opposite course, and altogether dis-
||ippear. On such occasions it requires great care in
•lithe traveler to prevent his horses from breaking loose
!fond escaping with the wild herd.
In those countries where wild horses are so plen-
I 7.

do not take the trouble to raise

tiful, the inhabitants
e
|j)thers, but whenever they want one they mount upon

an animal accustomed to the sport, and gallop over

I

ihe plain toward a herd, which is readily found at no

treat distance.

;|| 8. The rider gradually approaches some stragglers

u
from the main body, and, having selected the one he
jwishes, he dexterously throws the lasso (which is a
130 ECLECTIC SERIES.

long rope with a running noose, and is firmly fixed tc

his saddle) either over the wildhead or ir horse's

such a manner as to entangle his hind legs; and bj
the sudden checking of his own horse, he throws tht
captured animal over on its side.
9. In an instant he jumps off his horse, wraps hi*

cloak round the head of the captive, forces a bit intc

his mouth, and straps a saddle on his back. He ther

removes the cloak, and the animal starts to his feet
With equal quickness the hunter leaps into his saddle
and, in spite of the kicking of the captive, keeps his

seat, till, being wearied out with his efforts, the horse
submits to the guidance of his new master, and is re-

duced to complete obedience.

10. Frank. But, Uncle Thomas, are all horses orig-
inally wild? I have heard that Arabia is famous fo:

raising horses.
11. Uncle Thomas. Arabia has, for a long time
been noted for the beauty and speed of its horses. I
is not strange, however, that the Arabian horse shouh
be the most excellent, when we consider the care an<
kindness with which it is treated. One of the bes
storieswhich I have ever heard of the love of a
Arabian for his steed, is that related of an Aral
from whom an English officer wished to purchase hi
horse.
12. The animal was a bright bay mare, of fine fori
and great beauty; and the owner, proud of her aj
pearance and qualities, paraded her before the Englisl
man's tent until she attracted his attention. On bein
asked if he would sell her, "What will you gn
me?" was the reply. "That depends upon her age.
suppose she is past five?" "Guess again," said h
"Four?" "Look at her mouth," said the Arab, wil
 FOURTH READER. 131

a smile. On examination she was found to be about

three. This, from her size and symmetry, greatly in-
creased her value.
13. The gentleman said, "I will give you eighty to-
mans," (nearly two hundred and fifty dollars). "A
little more, somewhat en-
if you please," said the fellow,
tertained. —
"Ninety a hundred." shook his headHe
and smiled. The officer at last came to three hun-
dred tomans, (nearly one thousand dollars). "Well,"
said the Arab, "you need not tempt me further. You
are a rich nobleman, and, I am told, have loads of
silver and gold. Now," added he, "you want my
mare, but you shall not have her for all you have
got." He put spurs to his horse, and was soon out of
the reach of temptation.
14. The horse can swim, when necessary, as well as
most other animals, although he is not very fond of
the water. Some years ago a vessel was driven upon
the rocks, on the coast of the Cape of Good Hope,
and most of the crew fell an immediate sacrifice to the
waves. Those who were left were seen from the
shore, clinging to the different pieces of the wreck.
The sea ran so high that no boat could venture off to
JJ
lltheir assistance.
15. Meanwhile, a planter had come from his farm
to be a spectator of the shipwreck. His heart was
melted at the sight of the unhappy seamen, and,
knowing the bold spirit of his horse and his excel-
lence as a swimmer, he determined to make a desperate
effort for their deliverance. Having blown a little
jbrandy into his horse's nostrils, he pushed into the
midst of the breakers. At first they both disappeared,
but it was not long before they floated to the surface,
and swam up to the wreck; when, taking two men
132 ECLECTIC SERIES.

with him, each of whom held on by one of his boots,

he brought them safe to shore.
16. This was repeated no less than seven times, and
he saved fourteen lives; but on his return the eighth
time, being much fatigued, and meeting a tremendous
wave, he lost his balance and sank in a moment. His
horse swam safely to land, but its gallant rider sank!
to rise no more.

Definitions. — 4. Im-mense', very large. In-hab'it-ed, occupied

as a home. Cav'al-ry, a body of military troops on horses. 5. Im-
pgt-ii-Ss'i-ty, fury, violence. 8. Dex'ter-ous-ly, skillfully. 9. Ee-
duced', brought into. 10. O-rig'i-nal-ly, at first. 12. Pa-rad'ed,
showed off. Sym'me-try, a proper proportion of the several partsA
13. Toman', a Persian coin valued at about three dollars. 15.

Des'per-ate, without care of safety. De-liv'er-ance, release from

danger. 16. Gal'lant, brave, heroic.

Exercises. —
Where are wild horses found? How are they
taken? For what purpose are they taken? In what country
are the finest horses raised? Why are the horses so excellent
there? Are not animals always made better by kind treat|
ment? Why would not the Arab sell his horse? Eelate the
anecdote of the planter and the shipwrecked seamen.

XLVIII. EMULATION.

1. Frank's father was speaking to a friend, one

day, on the subject of competition at school. He said
that he could answer for it that envy is not always
connected with it.

2. He had been excelled by many, but did not

recollect ever having felt envious of his successful
rivals; "nor did my winning many a prize from my
 FOURTH READER. 133

ifriend Birch," said he, "ever lessen his friendship for

me."
I
3. In support of the truth of this, a friend who was
present related an anecdote which had fallen under his
own notice in a school in his neighborhood,
j
4. At this school the sons of several wealthy farm-
ers, and others, who were poorer, received instruction.
Frank listened with great' attention while the gentle-
man gave the following account of the two rivals.
5. It happened that the son of a rich farmer and the
son of a poor widow came in competition for the head
of their class. They were so nearly equal that the
;eacher could scarcely decide between them; some
lays one, and some days the other, gained the head
)f the class. It was determined by seeing who should
)e at the head of the class for the greater number of

lays in the week.

6. The widow's son, by the last day's trial, gained

ihe victory, and kept his place the following week, till

he school was dismissed for the holidays.

7. When they met again the widow's son did not

/ppear, and the farmer's son, being next to him, might

iow have been at the head of his class. Instead of
eizing the vacant place, however, he went to the
vidow's house to inquire what could be the cause of
ler son's absence..

8. Poverty was the cause; the poor woman found

hat she was not able, with her utmost efforts, to con-
inue to pay for the tuition and books of her son, and
o he, poor fellow! had been compelled to give up his
chooling, and to return to labor for her support.
9. The farmer's son, out of the allowance of pocket-
aoney which his father gave him, bought all the nec-
ssary books and paid for the tuition of his rival. He
134 ECLECTIC SERIES.

also permitted him to be brought back again to the

head of his class, where he continued for some time, at
the expense of his generous rival.

Definitions. — Em-u-la/tion, rivalry, contest. 1. CSm-pe-tl'-

tion, rivalry. 2. Ex-celled', surpassed, exceeded in good, qualities.
Rrval§, those who pursue the same thing. 3. An'ee-dote, a short
story. 8. Tu-i'tion, payment for teaching.

Exercises. —What is the subject of this lesson? What do

you mean by emulation ? What is envy ? What story is told
about the two rivals? Is it right to envy any person?

XLIX. THE SANDPIPER.

By Celia Thaxteb.

1. Across the lonely beach we flit,

One little sandpiper and I,
And fast I gather, bit by bit,
The scattered drift-wood, bleached and dry.
The wild waves reach their hands for it,
The wild wind raves, the tide runs high,
As up and down the beach we flit,
One little sandpiper and I.

2. Above our heads the sullen clouds

Scud, black and swift, across the sky;
Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds
Stand out the white light-houses high.
Almost as far as eye can reach
I see the close-reefed vessels fly,

As fast we flit across the beach,

One little sandpiper and I.
 FOURTH READER. 135

3. I watch him as he skims along,

Uttering his sweet and mournful cry;
He starts not at my fitful song,
Nor flash of fluttering drapery.
He has no thought of any wrong,
;
He scans me with a fearless eye;
Stanch friends are we, well-tried and strong,
The little sandpiper and I.

|
4. Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night,
'

When the loosed storm breaks furiously?

My drift-wood fire will burn so bright!
To what warm shelter canst thou fly?
I do not fear for thee, though wroth
The tempest rushes through the sky;
For are we not God's children both,
Thou, little sandpiper, and I?

\
Definitions. — 1. Sand'pi-per, a bird of the snipe family, found
long the sea-coast. Drift'-wood, wood tossed on shore by the waves.
Ueached, whitened. Tide, the regular rise and fall of the ocean
thich occurs twice in a little over twenty-four hours. 2. Seud, fly
astily. Shrouds?, winding sheets, dresses of the dead. Close'-
pefed, with sails contracted as much as possible. 3. Fit'ful, ir-

egularly variable. Dra/per-y, garments. Sean§, looks at care

"ully. Stanch, firm. 4. Wr6th, angry.
136 ECLECTIC SERIES.

L. THE RIGHT WAY.

Adapted from a story by Frank B. Stockton. He was born at Phila-
delphia, April 5, 1834, and when quite a young boy used to write stories
for his own pleasure. He was once a designer and engraver on wood,
and afterwards an editor; but he now devotes himself entirely to writ-
ing, not only for young but also for grown people.

1. "O Andy!" said little Jenny Murdock, "I'm so

glad you came along this way. I can't get over."
2. "Can't get over?" said Andrew. "Why what's
the matter?"
3. "The bridge is gone," said. Jenny. "When I
came across after breakfast it was there, and now it's
over on the other side, and how can I get back
home ? "
4. "Why, it is," said Andrew.
so "It was all
right when came over a little while ago, but old
I
Donald pulls it on the other side every morning after
he has driven his cows across, and I don't think he
has any right to do it. I suppose he thinks the bridge
was made for him and his cows."
5. "Now I must go down to the big bridge, Andy,

and I want you to go with me. I'm afraid to go

through all those dark woods by myself," said
Jenny.
6. "But I can't go, Jenny," said Andrew, "it's
nearly school-time now."
7.Andrew was a Scotch boy, and a fine fellow.
He was next to the head of his school, and he was as
good at play as he was at his book.
8. Jenny Murdock, his most particular friend, was a

little girl who lived very near Andrew's home. She

had no brothers or sisters, but Andrew had always
been as good as a brother to her ;
and, therefore, when
 FOURTH READER. 137

she stood by the water's edge that morning, just ready-

to burst into tears, she thought all her troubles over
when she saw Andrew coming along the road.
9. He
had always helped her out of her troubles
before, and she saw no reason why he should not do
it now. She had crossed the creek in search of wild
flowers, and when she wished to return had found the
bridge removed, as Andrew supposed, by old Donald
McKenzie, who pastured his cows on this side of the
creek.
10. This stream was not very wide, nor very deep
at its edges, but in the center it was four or five feet
deep; and in the spring the water ran very swiftly,
so that wading across it, either by cattle or men, was
quite a difficult undertaking. As for Jenny, she could
not get across atall without a bridge, and there was

none nearer than the wagon bridge, a mile and a half

below.
11. "You will go with me, Andy, won't you?"
said the little girl.
12. "And be late to school?" said he. "I have
not been late yet, you know, Jenny."
13. "Perhaps Dominie Black will think you have
been sick or had to mind the cows," said Jenny.
14. "He won't think so unless I tell him," said
Andrew, "and you know I won't do that."
15. "If we were to run all the way, would you be
too late?" said Jenny.
16. "If we were to run all the way to the bridge,

and I were to run all the way back, I should not get
I to school till after copy time. I expect every minute
to hear the school-bell ring," said Andrew.
17. "But what can I do, then?" said poor little

o 'Jenny. "I can't wait here till school's out, and I

138 ECLECTIC SERIES.

don't want to go up to the school-house, for all the

boys to laugh at me."
18. "No," said Andrew, reflecting very seriously,
"I must take you home some way or other.
It won't
do to leave you here, and, no matter where you might
stay, your mother would be very much troubled about
you."
19. "Yes," said Jenny, "she would think I was
drowned."
20. Time pressed, and Jenny's countenance became
more and more overcast, but Andrew could think of
no way in which he could take the little girl home
without being late and losing his standing in the
school.
It was impossible to get her across the stream
21.
at any place nearer than the "big bridge;" he would
not take her that way, and make uj3 a false story to
account for his lateness at school, and he could not
leave her alone or take her with him.
22. What was to be done? While several absurd
and impracticable plans were passing through his
brain, the school-bell began to ring, and he must start
immediately to reach the school-house in time.

23. And now his anxiety became

and perplexity
more intense than ever; and Jenny, looking up into
his troubled countenance, began to cry.
24. Andrew, who had never before failed to be at
the school door before the first tap of the bell, began
to despair. Was there nothing to be done?
Yes! a happy thought passed through his mind.
25.
How strange that he should not have thought of it
before! He would ask Dominie Black to let him
take Jenny home. What could be more sensible and
straightforward than such a plan?
 FOURTH READER. 139

26. Of course the good old schoolmaster gave An-

drew the desired permission, and every thing ended
happily. But the best thing about the whole affair
was the lesson that the young Scotch boy learned
that day.
27. The lesson was this: when we are puzzling our
brains with plans to help ourselves out of trouble, let
us always stop a moment in our planning, and try to
think if there is not some simple way out of the dif-
ficulty, which shall be in every respect perfectly right.
If we do this, we shall probably find a way more
easv and satisfactory than any which we can devise.

Definitions. — 8.
/
Par-ti€ u-lar, not ordinary, worthy of partic-
ular attention, chief. 13. D5m /
i-nie, the Scotch name for school-
master. 18. Be-flect'ing, thinking earnestly. 20. O-ver-east', cov-
ered with gloom. 21. Ac-count', to state the reasons. 22. Im-
prac'ti-ca-ble, not possible. 23. An^-I'e-ty, care, trouble of mind.
27. De-vige', plan, contrive.

Exercises. —Why could not Jenny cross the stream? Whom

What can you tell about Andrew?
did she ask to help her?
Who was Jenny Murdoek? What did Jenny wish Andrew to
do? Why could he not go with her? Would it have been
right for Andrew to have told an untruth even to help Jenny
out of trouble ? What did he finally do ? What does this les-
son teach us to do in case of trouble?

LI. THE GOLDEN RULE.

1. To act with integrity and good faith was such a

habit with Susan that she had never before thought
of examining the Golden Rule: "All things whatso-
ever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even
so to them." But the longer she reflected upon it, the
140 ECLECTIC SERIES.

stronger was her conviction that she did not always

obey the precept; at length, she appealed to her
mother for its meaning.
2. "It implies," said her mother, "in the first

place, a total destruction of all selfishness: for a man

who loves himself better than his neighbors, can never
do to others as he would have others do to him. We
arebound not only to do, but to feel, toward others as
we would have others feel toward us. Remember, it

is much easier to reprove the sin of others than to

overcome temptation when it assails ourselves.
3. "A man may be perfectly honest and yet very

selfish; but the command implies something more than

mere honesty; it requires charity as well as integrity.
The meaning of the command is fully explained in
the parable of the Good Samaritan. The Levite, who
passed by the wounded man without offering him
assistance, may have been a man of great honesty;
but he did not do unto the poor stranger as he would
have wished others to do unto him."
4. Susan pondered carefully and seriously on what

her mother had said. When she thought over her

past conduct, a blush of shame crept to her cheeks,
and a look of sorrow into her eyes, as many little acts
of selfishness and unkindness came back to her mem-
ory. She resolved that for the future, both in great
things and small, she would remember and follow the
Golden Rule.
5. It was not long after this that an opportunity

occurred of trying Susan's principles. One Saturday

evening when she went, as usual, to farmer Thomp-
son's inn, to receive the price of her mother's wash-
ing for the boarders, which amounted to five dollars,
she found the farmer in the stable-yard.
 FOURTH READER. 141

j
6. He was apparently in a terrible rage with some
i
horse-dealers with whom he had been bargaining. He
i

held in his hand an open pocket-book, full of bills;

h and scarcely noticing the child as she made her re-
[
quest, except to swear at her, as usual, for troubling

j
>
him when he was busy, he handed her a bank-note.
1

1
j
7. Glad to escape so easily, Susan hurried out of
1 1 the gate, and then, pausing to pin the money safely in
t
the folds of her shawl, she discovered that he had
)

j
given her two bills instead of one. She looked
'

around; nobody was near to share her discovery; and

] her first impulse was joy at the unexpected prize,
n 8. "It is mine, all mine," said she to herself; "I

.
will buy mother a new cloak with it, and she can give
»
j
her old one to sister Mary, and then Mary can go
'0
to the Sunday-school with me next winter. I wonder
i if it will not buy a pair of shoes for brother Tom,

J)
'

too."
1(1
|
9. At that moment she remembered that he must
|
have given it to her by mistake ; and therefore she
at had no right to it. But again the voice of the
a |
tempter whispered, " He
and how do you
gave it,

;
!
,
!know that he did not intend to make you a present of
its lit? Keep it; he will never know it, even if it should
li be a mistake for he had too many such bills in that
!
;

at great pocket-book to miss one."

Ik 10. While this conflict was going on in her mind be-
tween good and evil, she was hurrying homeward as
it? fast as possible. Yet, before she came in sight of her
laj
J
home, she had repeatedly balanced the comforts which
ip the money would buy against the sin of wronging her
4 neighbor.
ms, 11. As she crossed the little bridge over the narrow
; creek before her mother's door, her eye fell upon a
142 ECLECTIC SERIES.

rustic seat which they had occupied during the con-

versation I have before narrated. Instantly the words
of Scripture, " Whatsoever ye would that men should
do to you, do ye even so to them," sounded in her
ears like a trumpet.
12. Turning suddenly round, as if flying from some
unseen peril, the child hastened along the road with
breathless speed until she found herself once more at
farmer Thompson's gate. "What do you want now?"
asked the gruff old fellow, as he saw her again at his
side.

13. "Sir, you paid me two bills, instead of one,"

said she, trembling in every limb. "Two bills? did
I? let me see; well, so I did; but did you just find it
out? Why did you not bring it back sooner?*
Susan blushed and hung her head.
14. "You wanted to keep it, I suppose," said he
" Well, I am glad your mother was more honest thai
you, or I should have been five dollars poorer anc
none the wiser." "My mother knows nothing abou
it, sir," said Susan; "I brought it back before I wen

home."
15. The old man looked at the child, and, as he sav
the tears rolling down her cheeks, he seemed touche(
by her distress. Putting his hand in his pocket, h<
drew out a shilling and offered it to her.
16. "No, sir, I thank you," sobbed she; "I do no
want to be paid for doing right; I only wish yoi
would not think me dishonest, for, indeed, it was '!;

sore temptation. Oh! sir, if you had ever seen thos

you love best wanting the common comforts of life, yo
would know how hard it is for us always to do unt
others as we would have others do unto us."
17. The heart of the selfish man was touchec
 FOURTH READER. 143

"There be things which are little upon the earth, but

they are exceeding wise," murmured he, as he bade
the little girl good-night, and entered his house a sad-
der, and, it is to be hoped, a better man. Susan re-
turned to her humble home with a lightened heart,
and through the course of a long and useful life she
never forgot her first temptation.

Definitions. — 1. In-teg'ri-ty, honesty, uprightness. Con-vic'-

tion, strong belief. Ap-pealed', referred to. 2. Temp-ta'tion, that
which has a tendency to induce one to do wrong. As-sails/, attacks.
10. CSn'flict, struggle. BaTanged, weighed, compared. 12. Gruff,
rough. 17. Mur'mured, spoke in a loxo voice. Lightened, made
cheerful or lighter.

—
Exercises. What is the Golden Eule? What does it im-
ply? Can a man be perfectly honest and still not follow the
Golden Eule? What parable is a perfect illustration of its
meaning? How was Susan tempted? What did she first
think of doing? What changed her intention? Eelate what
happened when she returned the money, What effect did her
action have?

XJL THE SNOW-MAN.

By Marian Douglas.

1. Look! how the clouds are flying south!

The winds pipe loud and shrill!
And high above the white drifts stands
The snow-man on the hill.

2o Blow, wild wind from the icy north!

Here's one who will not fear
To feel thy coldest touch, or shrink
Thy loudest blast to hear.
144 ECLECTIC SERIES.

3. Proud triumph of the school-boy's skill!

Far rather would I be
A winter giant, ruling o'er
A frosty realm, like thee,

4. And stand amid the drifted snow,

Like thee, a thing apart,
Than be a man who walks with men,
But has a frozen heart!

Definitions. — 1. Pipe, whistle. 2. Shrink, to draw back on

account of fear. 3. Tri'umph, success causing exultation. R8alm,
the territory over which authority is used, dominion.

Exercises. —With
what is the snow-man compared in this
poem? What is meant by a man with "a frozen heart"? Do
you think such a man would follow the Golden Rule?

Lin. ROBINSON CRUSOE'S HOUSE.

Daniel DeFoe, the author of "Robinson Crusoe " (from which these
selections are adapted), was born in London, England, in 1661, and died
in 1731. He wrote a number of books; but his "Robinson Crusoe" is
the only one that attained great notoriety.

1. I have already described which my habitation,

was a tent under the side of a rock,
surrounded with
a strong pale of posts and cables, but I might now
rather call it a wall, for I raised a kind of wall up
against it of turf, about two feet thick on the outside;
and, after some time (I think it was a year and a half)
I raised rafters from it, leaning to the rock, and
thatched or covered it with boughs of trees and such
things as I could get to keep out the rain, which I
found at some times of the year very violent.
 FOURTH READER. 145

2. I have already observed how I brought all my

goods into this pale, and into the cave which I had
made behind me; but I must observe, too, that at
first thiswas a confused heap of goods, which, as they
lay in no order, took up all my place, so that I had
no room to turn myself. So I set to work to enlarge
my cave and work farther into the earth; for it was a
loose, sandy rock, which yielded easily to the labor I
bestowed upon it.
3. And so when I found that I was pretty safe as
to beasts of prey, I worked sideways into the rock;
and then, turning to the right again, worked quite
out,and made me a door to come out on the outside
of my pale or fortification. This gave me not only
egress and regress, as itwas a back way to my tent
and to my store-house, but gave me room to, stow my
goods.
4. And now I began to apply myself to make such
necessary things as I found I most wanted, particu-
larly a chair and a table; for without these I was not
able to enjoy the few comforts I had in the world. I
could not write or eat, or do several things with so
much pleasure without a table.
So I went to work. I had never handled a tool
5.

in my life; and yet in time by labor, application, and

contrivance, I found that I wanted nothing but I
could have made it, especially if I had had tools;
however, I made abundance of things, even without
tools, and some with no more tools than an adz and a

hatchet, which perhaps were never made that way be-

fore, and that with infinite labor.

6. For example, if I wanted a board, T had no

otherway but to cut down a tree, set it before me,
and hew it flat on either side with my ax till I had
(4.-10.)
146 ECLECTIC SERIES.

brought it to be as thin as a plank, and then dub it

smooth with my adz.

7. It is true, method I could make but one
by this

board out of a whole tree but this I had no remedy

;

for but patience, any more than I had for the prodig-
ious deal of time and labor which it took me to make a
plank or board; but my time or labor was little worth,
and so it was as well employed one way as another.
8. However, I made me a table and a chair, as I

observed above; and this I did out of the short pieces

of boards which I brought on my raft from the ship;
but when I had wrought out some boards, as above, I
made large shelves, of the breadth of a foot and a
half, one over another, all along one side of my cave,
to lay all my tools, nails, and iron-work on, and, in a
word, to separate every thing at large in their plaoes,
that I might come easily at them.
9. I knocked pieces into the wall of the rock to!

hang my guns and all things that would hang up.

So that, had my cave been seen, it would have looked
like a general magazine of all necessary things; and I
had every thing so ready at my hand that it was a
great pleasure to me to see all my goods in such order,
and especially to find my stock of all necessaries so
great.

Definitions. — 1. Hab-i-ta'tion, a dwelling place. Pale, a fence.

Ca'ble§, large ropes. Turf, sod. 3. F6r-ti fi-ca/tion, a place builti

for defense against attack. E'gress, going out. Ke'gress, comingl

back, return. Stow, to arrange compactly. 4. Ap-ply', to employ
diligently. 6. Dub, to cut down or bring to an even surface. 7.

Pro-dig'iotis, very great. Deal, part, amount. 9. Mag-a-zine / , a

store-house.

Exercises. —How did Robinson Crusoe make a house? Of

what did he make a chair and table? How did he obtain boards?
What does this lesson teach us in regard to perseverance?
 FOURTH READER. 147

LIV. ROBINSON CRUSOE'S DRESS.

1. But had any man in England met such a man

as I was, it must either have frightened him or raised a
great deal of laughter;
and, as I frequently stood still to
look at myself, I could not but smile at the notion of
my traveling through Yorkshire in such a dress.
148 ECLECTIC SERIES.
2. I had a great, high, shapeless cap, made of a goat's
skin, with a flap hanging down behind, as well to
keep the sun from me as to shoot the rain oft' from
running into my neck; nothing being so hurtful in
these climates as the rain upon the flesh under the
clothes.
3. I had a short jacket of goat-skin, the skirts com-
ing down to about the middle of the thighs, and a
pair of open-kneed breeches of the same; the breeches
were made of the skin of an old goat, and the hair
hung down such a length on either side that it

reached to the middle of my legs like pantaloons.

4. Stockings and shoes I had none; but I made a
pair of something, I scarce know what to call them,
like buskins, to flap over my on either
legs, and lace
side like spatterdashes; but they were of a most bar-
barous shape, as indeed were all the rest of my
clothes.
5. I had on a broad belt of goat-skin dried, which
I drew together with two thongs of the same, instead
of buckles; and, in a kind of frog on each side of
this, instead hung a little saw
of a sword and dagger,
and hatchet; one on one side, and one on the other.
I had another belt not so broad, and fastened in the
same manner, which hung over my shoulder; and at
the end of it, under my left arm, hung two pouches,
both made of goat-skin, too; in one of which hung
my powder, in the other my shot.
6. At my back I carried my basket, on my shoul-
der my gun, and over my head a great, clumsy, ugly,
goat-skin umbrella, but which, after all, was the most

necessary thing Ihad about me, next to my gun.

7. As for my face, the color of it was really not so

dark as one might expect from a man not at all care-

 FOURTH READER. 149

fill and living within nine or ten degrees of the

of it,

equator. My beard I had once suffered to grow till

it was about a quarter of a yard long; but, as I had

both scissors and razors sufficient, I had cut it pretty

short, except what grew on my upper lip, which I had
trimmed into a large pair of Mahometan whiskers,
isuch as I had seen worn by some Turks.
8. Of these mustaches or whiskers, I will not say
that they were long enough to hang my hat upon
them, but they were of a length and shape monstrous
lenough, and such as in England would have passed
for frightful. But all this is by the by; for, as to my
figure, I had so few to observe me was of no
that it

manner of consequence; so I say no more on that

part.

—
Definitions. 4. Busking, coverings for the feet coming some
up the leg, and fit for a defense against thorns, etc. Spat/-
distance
fcer-dash-eg, coverings for the legs to keep them clean from water
md mud. Bar'ba-rotis, uncouth, clumsy. 5. Th8ng§, strips of

'eather. FrSg, a loop similar to that sometimes used in fastening a

'hah or coat. Pouch'es, bags. 8. MSn'stroiis, very large, enormous.

Notes. —The
novel, " Robinson Crusoe," was first published
n 1719. was founded on the adventures of Alexander Sel-
It
kirk, a Scotch buccaneer, who was cast on the island of Juan

Fernandez, west of South America, in 1704, and remained

here for more than four years before he was rescued.
1. Yorkshire. This was the district of England where, accord-
tig to the story, Robinson Crusoe was born and passed his early

ife.

3. Open-kneed breeches. At were worn

this period knee-breeches
lmost altogether in England. Those referred to here appear to
ave been loose about the knee, and not close, as usual.
5. Instead of sword' and dagger. It was then the fashion in
England for gentlemen to v. ear such weapons.
8. Such as in England woidd have passed for frightful. It was
tot the custom in England, in DeFoe's time, to wear a full beard.
 —
150 ECLECTIC SERIES.

LV. SOMEBODY'S DARLING.

1. Into a ward of the whitewashed halls,

Where the dead and dying lay,

Wounded by bayonets, shells, and balls,

Somebody's darling was borne one day;

2. Somebody's darling, so young and brave,

Wearing yet on his pale, sweet face,
Soon to be hid by the dust of the grave,
The lingering light of his boyhood's grace.

3. Matted and damp are the curls of gold,

Kissing the snow of that fair young brow;
Pale are the lips of delicate mold
Somebody's darling is dying now.

4. Back from his beautiful, blue-veined brow,

Brush all the wandering waves of gold;
Cross his hands on his bosom now;
Somebody's darling is still and cold.

5. Kiss him once for somebody's sake,

Murmur a prayer soft and low;
One bright curl from its fair mates take;
They were somebody's pride, you know;

6. Somebody's hand has rested there;

Was it a mother's, soft and white?
And have the lips of a sister fair
Been baptized in the waves of light?
 FOURTH READER. 151

7. God knows best! he was somebody's love:

Somebody's heart enshrined him there;
Somebody wafted his name above,
Night and morn, on the wings of prayer.

8. Somebody wept when he marched away,

Looking so handsome, brave, and grand;
Somebody's kiss on his forehead lay;
Somebody clung to his parting hand.

9. Somebody's watching and waiting for him,

Yearning to hold him again to her heart;
And there he lies, with his blue eyes dim,
And the smiling, child-like lips apart.

10. Tenderly bury the fair young dead,

Pausing to drop on his grave a tear;
Carve on the wooden slab at his head,
"Somebody's darling slumbers here."

—
Definitions. 1. Bay'o-net, a short, pointed iron weapon, fitted
to themuzzle of a gun. Dar'ling, one dearly loved. 2. Lm'ger-irig,
protracted. 3. Malted, twisted together. D&l'i-eate, soft and fair.
Mold, shape. 4. Wan'der-ing, straying. 7. En-skrined', cherished.
Waft'ed, caused to float. 9. Yearning, being eager, longing. 10.
TSn'der-ly, gently, kindly.

LVI. KNOWLEDGE IS POWER.

1. "What an excellent thing is knowledge," said

a sharp-looking, bustling little man, to one who was

much older than himself. "Knowledge is an excellent

thing," repeated he. " My boys know more at six and
seven years old than I did at twelve. They can read
 "

152 ECLECTIC SERIES,

all sorts of books, and talk on all sorts of subjects.
The world is a great deal wiser than it used to be.
Every body knows something of every thing now.
Do you not think, sir, that knowledge is an excellent
thing?"
2. " Why, sir," replied the old man, looking
grave, "that depends entirely upon the use to which
it is applied. It may be a blessing or a curse.
Knowledge is only an increase of power, and power
may be a bad, as well as a good thing," "That is
what I can not understand," said the bustling little
man. "How can power be a bad thing?"
3„ "I will tell you," meekly replied the old man;

and thus he went on: "When the power of a horse

is under restraint, the animal is useful in bearing bur-

dens, drawing loads, and carrying his master; but

when that power is unrestrained, the horse breaks his
bridle, dashes to pieces the carriage that he draws, or
throws his rider." " I see " said the
!
little man,
4. "When the water of a large pond is properly
conducted by trenches, it renders the fields around
fertile; but when it bursts through its banks, it

sweeps every thing before and destroys the produce

it

of the fields." "I see!" said the little man, "I

!
see
5. "When the ship is steered aright, the sail that i

she hoists enables her sooner to get into port; but if

steered wrong, the more sail she carries the further !

will she go out of her course.'' " I see " said the
!
I

man, " 1 "

little see clearly !

6. " Well, then," continued the old man, "

if you
]

hope you can see, too,

see these things so clearly, I j

that knowledge, to be a good thing, must be rightly

applied. God's grace in the heart will render the J
 FOURTH READER. 153

jltaowledge of the head a blessing; but without this, it

1 [ay prove to us no better than a curse." "I see! I

be!" said the little man, "I see!"

Definitions. — 1. Btis'tling, very active, stirring. Subject, the

Ung treated of. 3. Meek'ly, mildly, quietly, gently. Be-straint/,
ny thing which hinders. Bttr'deng, loads. 4. Con-dueled, led,w

tided. Trench'eg, ditches. FeVtile, producing much fruit, rich.

rSd'Qce, that which is yielded or produced. 5. Steered', guided,
Irected. Hoists, raises. 6. Ap-plled / ,
directed, made use of.

I —
Exercises. What is the subject of this lesson? Is knowl-
jlge always a power? Is it always a blessing? Belate the
jveral examples of power wrongly used. If we use the powers
tat God has given us for bad purposes, what will our knowl-
Ige prove to be?

LVII. GOOD-WILL.

By J. T. Trowbridge.— (Adapted.)

1. I suppose you all,' my boys, are looking for some

>rt of success in life; it is right that you should;
nt what are your notions of success? To get rich as
>on as possible, without regard to the means by which
3ur wealth is acquired?
2. Thereno true success in that: when you have
is

lined millions, you may yet be poorer than when you

ad nothing; and it is that same reckless ambition
hich has brought many a bright and capable boy,
ot to great estate at last, but to miserable failure
lad disgrace; not to a palace, but to a prison,
g 3. Wealth rightly got and rightly used, rational en-
joyment, power, fame, —these are all worthy objects of
mbition; but they are not the highest objects, and
154 ECLECTIC SERIES.

you may acquire them all without achieving true suc-

cess. But if, whatever you seek, you put good-will
into all your actions, you are sure of the best success
at last; for whatever else you gain or miss, you are
building up a noble and beautiful character, which is
not only the best of possessions in this world, but
also is about all you can expect to take with you into
the next.
4. I say, good-will in all your actions. You are
not simply to be kind and helpful to others; but,
whatever you do, give honest, earnest purpose to it.

Thomas is put by his parents to learn a business.

But Thomas does not like to apply himself very
closely. "What's the use?" he says. "I'm not paid
much, and I'm not going to work much. I'll get
along just as easily as I can, and have as good times
as I can."
5. So he shirks his tasks; and instead of thinking
about his employer's interests, or his own self-improve-
ment, gives his mind to trifles, — often to evil things,
which in their ruinous effects upon his life are not
trifles. As soon as he is. free from his daily duties, he
is off with his companions, having what they call a
good time; his heart is with them even while his
hands are employed in the shop or store.
6. He does nothing thoroughly well, —not at all for
want of talent, but solely for lack of good-will. He
is not preparing himself to be one of those efficient
clerks or workmen who are always in demand, and
who receive the highest wages.
7. There is a class of people who are the pest of
every community, workmen who do not know their
trade, men of business ignorant of the first principles
of business. They can never be relied upon to do
 FOURTH READER. 155

well any thing they undertake. They are always mak-

ing blunders which other people have to suffer for, and
which react upon themselves. They are always getting
but of employment, and failing in business.
!
8. To make up for what they lack in knowledge
and thoroughness, they often resort to trick and fraud,
and become not merely contemptible but criminal.
Thomas is preparing himself to be one of this class.

You can not, boys, expect to raise a good crop from

j
9o By Thomas's side works another boy, whom we
tevill call James, —a lad of only ordinary capacity,
yery likely. If Thomas and all the other boys did
their best, there would be but small chance for James
aver to become eminent. But he has something better
than talent: he brings good-will to his work. What-
ever he learns, he learns so well that it becomes a
part of himself.

j
His employers find that they can depend upon
10.
Customers soon learn to like and trust him.
lim.
By diligence, self-culture, good habits, cheerful and
kindly conduct, he is laying the foundation of a gen-
prous manhood and a genuine success.
: 11. In short, boys, by slighting your tasks you hurt
yourself more than you wrong your employer. By
lonest service you benefit yourself more than you help
1

[lim. If you were aiming at mere worldly advance-

f
nent only, I should still say that good-will was the

I
7ery best investment you could make in business.
12. By cheating a customer, you gain only a tem-
jorary and unreal advantage. By serving him with
r -ight good-will, —
doing by him as you would be done
s
—
)y, you not only secure his confidence but also his
j wod-will in return. But this is a sordid considera-
156 ECLECTIC SERIES.

tion compared with the inward satisfaction, the glow

and expansion of soul which attend a good action
done for itself alone. If I were to sum up all I have
to say to you in one last word of love and counsel,
that one word should be Good-will. —
Definitions. — 3. Char'ae-ter, the sum of qualities which distin-

guish one person from another. 4. Purpose, intention, aim. 7.

Prin^i-pleg, fixed rules. 9. Ca-pai/i-ty, ability, the power of re-

ceiving ideas. 12. Sordid, base, meanly avaricious.

Exercises. — What is meant by the phrase " to apply him-

self," in the fourth paragraph? What is meant by "a generous
manhood," tenth paragraph? By "expansion of soul," twelfth
paragraph? Tell what is meant by "good-will," as taught by
this lesson. How did Tom and James differ in character?

LVIII. A CHINESE STORY.

By Christopher Pearse Cranch, who was born at Alexandria, Va.
(then D. C), in 1813. He has written some well-known children's stories,
besides numerous poems but his greatest literary work is " The iEneid
;

of Virgil, translated into English blank verse."

1. Two young, near-sighted fellows, Chang and Ching,

Over their chopsticks idly chattering,
Fell to disputing which could see the best;
At last, they agreed to put it to the test.
Said Chang, "A marble tablet, so I hear,

Is placedupon the Bo-hee temple near,

With an inscription on
it. Let us go
And read it (since you boast your optics so),

Standing together at a certain place

In front, where we the letters just may trace;
Then he who quickest reads the inscription there,
 —
FOURTH READER. 157

The palm for keenest eyes henceforth shall bear."

"Agreed/' said Ching, "but let us try it soon:
Suppose we say to-morrow afternoon."

" Nay, not so soon," said Chang ; "I'm bound to go

To-morrow a day's ride from Ho-ang-ho,
And sha'n't be ready till the following day:
At ten A. M., on Thursday, let us say."

So 'twas arranged; but Ching was wide-awake:

Time by the forelock he resolved to take;
And to the temple went at once, and read,
Upon the tablet, "To the illustrious dead,
The Goh-Bang."
chief of mandarins, the great
Scarce had he gone when came Chang,
stealthily
Who read the same; but peering closer, he
Spied in a corner what Ching failed to see
The words, "This tablet is erected here
By those to whom the great Goh-Bang was dear."

So on the appointed day —both innocent

As babes, of course- —these honest fellows went,
And took their distant station; and Ching said,
"I can read plainly, 'To the illustrious dead,
The chief of mandarins, the great Goh-Bang.'"
"And that all that you can spell?" said Chang;
is

"I what you have read, but furthermore,

see
In smaller letters, toward the temple door,
Quite plain, 'This tablet is erected here
By those to whom the great Goh-Bang was dear.'"

"My sharp-eyed friend, there are no such words!"

said Ching.
"They're there," said Chang, "if I see any thing,
158 ECLECTIC SERIES.

As clear as daylight." "Patent eyes, indeed,

a do you think I can n
You have!" cried Ching;
read?"
"Not at this distance as I can," Chang said,
"If what you say you saw is all you read."

6. In fine, they quarreled, and their wrath increased,

Till Chang said, "Let us leave it to the priest;

Lo! here he comes to meet us." "It is well,"

Said honest Ching; "no falsehood he will tell."

 FOURTH READER. 159

7. The good man heard their artless story through,

And said, "I think, dear sirs, there must be few

Blest with such wondrous eyes as those you wear:

?
There s no such tablet or inscription there!
There was one, it is true; 'twas moved away
And placed within the temple yesterday."

Definitions.— 1. Near-slght'ed, seeing at a short distance only.

Chop'sticks, small sticks of wood, ivory, etc., used in pairs by
Chinese to carry food to the mouth. Tab'let, a small, flat piece of
any thing on which to write or engrave. In-scrip'tion, something
written or engraved on a solid substance. Op'tics, eyes. Palm, the
reward of victory, prize. 2. A. M., an abbreviation for the Latin
ante meridian, meaning before noon. 3. Man-da-rin', a Chinese
public officer. 5. Parent, secured from general use, peculiar to one

person.

LIX. THE WAY TO BE HAPPY,

1. Every child must observe how much more happy

and beloved some children are than others. There are

some children you always love to be with. They are
happy themselves, and they make you happy.
There are others whom you always avoid. They
2.

seem to have no friends. No person can be happy

without friends. The heart is formed for love, and
can not be happy without it.
3« "'Tis not in titles nor in rank,
'Tis not in wealth like London bank,
To make us truly blest.
If happiness have not her seat
And center in the breast,
We may be wise, or rich, or great,
, But never can be blest."
160 ECLECTIC SERIES,
4. But you can not receive affection unless you will
also give it. You can not find others to love you
unless you will also love them. Love is only to be
obtained by giving love in return. Hence the impor-
tance of cultivating a good disposition. You can not
be happy without it.

5. I have sometimes heard a girl say, "I know that

I am very unpopular at school." Now, this plainly
shows that she is not amiable.
6. If your companions do not love you, it is your

own fault. They can not help loving you if you will
be kind and friendly. If you are not loved, it is a
good proof that you do not deserve to be loved. It
is true that a sense of duty may, at times, render it

necessary for you to do that which will displease your

companions.
But if it is seen that you have a noble spirit,
7.

that you are above selfishness, that you are willing to

make sacrifices to promote the happiness of others,
you will never be in want of friends.
8. You must not regard it as your misfortune that

others do not love you, but your fault. It is not

beauty, it is not wealth, that will give you friends.
Your heart must glow with kindness, if you wouldi
attract to yourself the esteem and affection of those
around you.
9. You are little aware how much the happiness of,

your whole life depends upon the cultivation of a good

disposition. If you will adopt the resolution that you|
will confer favors whenever you can, you will certainly
be surrounded by ardent friends. Begin upon thisj.
principle in childhood, and act upon it through life,
and you will make yourself happy, and promote the
happiness of all within your influence.
 FOURTH READER. 161

j
10. You go to school on a cold winter morning. A
bright fire is blazing in the stove, surrounded with

boys struggling to get near it to warm themselves.

'After you are warmed, a school-mate comes in
slightly
suffering with cold. " Here, James," you pleasantly
ball out to him, " I am almost warm you may have ;

jmy place."
!
11. As you slip aside to allow him to take your
place at the fire, will he not feel that you are kind?
The worst boy in the world can not help admiring
such generosity ;
and, even though he be so ungrate-
ful as not to return the favor, you may depend upon it

that he will be your friend as far as he is capable of

friendship. If you will always act upon this principle,
you will never want for friends.
some day, you are out with your com-
12. Suppose,
panions ball. After you have been playing
playing
for some time, another boy comes along. He can not
be chosen upon either side, for there is no one to
match him. "Henry," you say, "you may take my
place a little while, and I will rest."
13. You throw yourself down upon the grass, while
Henry, fresh and vigorous, takes your bat and engages
in the game. He knows that you give up to oblige
lim, and how can he help liking you for it? The
fact is, that neither man nor child can cultivate such a
spirit of generosity and kindness without attracting
and esteem.
affection
14. Look and see which of your companions have
the most friends, and you will find that they are those
who have this noble spirit; who are willing to deny
themselves, that they may make others happy. There
s but one way to make friends; and that is, by being

friendly to others.
(4.-11.)
162 ECLECTIC SERIES.

15. Perhaps some child who reads this feels con-

scious of being disliked, and yet desires to have the
affection of his companions. You ask me what you
shall do. I will tell you. I will give you an infalli-
ble rule: Do all in your power to make others happy.
Be willing to make sacrifices, that you may promote
the happiness of others.
16. This is the way to make friends, and the only
way. Whenyou are playing with your brothers and
sisters at home, be always ready to give them more
than their share of privileges. Manifest an obliging
disposition, and they can not but regard you with
affection. In all your intercourse with others, at home
or abroad, let these feelings influence you, and you
will receive a rich reward.

Definitions. — 4. CuFti-vat-ing, cherishing, encouraging. 5.

Un-pSp'u-lar, not pleasing others. 6. Com-pan'ionf-;, those who keep

company with any one. 7. Sae'ri-f Ic-e§, things given up to oblige
others. Pro-mote 7 advance, forward. 10. Suffer-ing, undergoing
,

pain. 11. Gen-er-os'i-ty, kindness, nobleness of soul. 15. In-fal'-

li-ble, certain, that can not fail. 16. Man'i-fest, to show plainly.
In'ter-edurse, communication, mutual dealings.

—
Exercises. What is this lesson about? Can we be happy
without friends? How can we win the love of those about us?
Whose fault is it if we are not loved? What rule will surely
gain us love and friendship if we always follow it?

LX. THE GIRAFFE, OR CAMELOPARD.

1. The giraffe is a native of Africa. It is of sin-

gular shape and and bears some resemblance both
size,

to the camel and the deer. The mouth is small; the

eyes are full and brilliant; the tongue is rough, very
 FOURTH READER. 163

long, and ending in a point. The neck is long and

slender, and, from the shoulder to the top of the head,
it measures between seven and eight feet; from the
ground to the top of the shoulder, is commonly ten or
eleven feet; so that the height of a full grown giraffe

is seventeen or eighteen feet.

2. The hair is of a deep brown color in the male,

and of a light or yellowish brown in the female. The
skin is beautifully diversified with white spots. They
have short, blunt horns, and hoofs like those of the
ox. In their wild state, they feed on the leaves of a
gum-bearing tree peculiar to warm climates.
3. The giraffe, like the horse and other hoofed ani-
mals, defends itself by kicking; and its hinder limbs
are so light, and its blows so rapid, that the eye can
not follow them. They are sufficient for its defense
against the lion. employs its horns in resist-
It never
ing the attack of an enemy. Its disposition is gentle,
and it flees to its native forest upon the least alarm.
4. Le Vaillant (the celebrated French traveler and

[naturalist) was the first who gave us any exact ac-

count of the form and habits of the giraffe. While

he was traveling in South Africa, he happened one day
[to discover a hut covered with the skin of one of those

animals; and learned to his surprise that he was now

jin a part of the country where the creature was found.

He could not rest contented until he had seen the

animal alive, and had secured a specimen.
I 5. Having on several days obtained sight of some

}f them, he, with his attendants, on horseback and

iccompanied with dogs, gave chase; but they baffled

dl pursuit. After a chase of a whole day, which
Effected nothing but the fatigue of the party, he began

;o despair of success.
164 ECLECTIC SERIES.

6. " The next day/' says he, " by sunrise, I was in

pursuit of game, in the hope of obtaining some pro-
visions for my men. we
After several hours' fatigue,
saw, at the turn of a hill, seven giraffes, which my
pack of dogs instantly pursued. Six of them went off
together; but the seventh, cut off by my dogs, took
another way.
7. "I followed the single one at full speed, but, in
spite of the efforts of my horse, she got so much ahead
of me, that, in turniug a little hill, I lost sight of her
altogether, and I gave up the pursuit. My dogs, how-
ever, were not so easily exhausted. They were soon so
close upon her that she was obliged to stop and de-
fend herself. From the noise they made, I conjectured
that they had got the animal into a corner, and I
again pushed forward.
8. "I had scarcely got round the hill, when I per-
ceived her surrounded by the dogs, and endeavoring
to drive them away by heavy kicks. In a moment I
was on feet, and a shot from my carbine brought
my
her to the earth. I was delighted with my victory,
which enabled me to add to the riches of natural his-
tory. I was now able, also, to destroy the romance
which attached to this animal, and to establish the
truth of its existence."

Definitions. — 1. Brilliant, sparkling, shining. 2. Di- verbi-

fied, made various. Pe-euKiar, especially belonging to. 4. Nat/U-
ral-ist, one who is acquainted voith objects of nature. Spec'i-men,
/
a sample. 5. Baffled, defeated, escaped from. Fa-ti'gue , weari-
ness. 7. Con-ject/iired, guessed. 8. CaVbine, a short gun. Ro-
mance^ a story without truth.

Exercises.— Of what country is the giraffe a native? To

what height does it attain when full grown ? On what does it
live? How does it defend itself? Relate the story of Le Vail-
lant's giraffe hunt.
 FOURTH READER. 165

LXI. THE LOST CHILD.

1.A few years since, a child was lost in the woods.

He was out with his brothers and sisters gathering
berries, and was accidentally separated from them, and
lost. The children, after looking in vain for some
time in search of the little wanderer, returned, just in
the dusk of the evening, to inform their parents that
their brother was and could not be found.
lost
2. The woods, were full of bears. The
at that time,
darkness of a cloudy night was rapidly coming on, and
the alarmed father, gathering a few of his neighbors,
hastened in search of the lost child. The mother re-
mained at home, almost distracted with suspense.
3. As the clouds gathered, and the darkness in-
creased, the father and the neighbors, with highly
excited fears, traversed the woods in all directions,
and raised loud shouts to attract the attention of the
child. But their search was in vain. They could find
no trace of the wanderer; and, as they stood under the
boughs of the lofty trees, and listened, that if possible
they might hear his feeble voice, no sound was borne
to their ears but the melancholy moaning of the wind
as it swept through the thick branches of the forest.

4. The gathering clouds threatened an approaching

storm, and the deep darkness of the night had already
enveloped them. It is difficult to conceive what were
the feelings of that father. And who could imagine
how deep the distress which filled the bosom of that
mother, as she heard the wind, and beheld the dark-
ness in which her child was wandering
5. The search was continued in vain till nine o'clock
in the evening. Then, one of the party was sent back
166 ECLECTIC SERIES.

to the village, to collect for a more

the inhabitants
extensive search. The
rung the alarm, and the
bell
cry of fire resounded through the streets. It was
ascertained, however, that it was not fire which caused
the alarm, but that the bell tolled the more solemn
tidings of a lost child.
6. Every heart sympathized in the sorrows of the
distracted parents. Soon, multitudes of the people
were seen ascending the hill, upon the declivity of
which the village stood, to aid in the search. Ere
long, the rain began to fall, but no tidings came back
to the village of the lost child. Hardly an eye was
that night closed in sleep, and there was not a mother
who did not feel for the parents.
7. The night passed away, and the morning dawned,
and yet no tidings came. At last, those engaged
in the search met together and held a consultation.
They made arrangements for a more minute search,
and agreed that, in case the child was found, a gun
should be fired, to give a signal to the rest of the
party.
8. As the sun arose, the clouds were scattered, and
the whole landscape glittered in the rays of the bright
morning. But that village was deserted and still.
The stores were closed, and business was hushed.
Mothers were walking the streets, with sympathizing
countenances and anxious hearts. There was but one
thought in every mind: "What has become of the
lost child?"
9. All the affections and interest of the neighbor-
hood were flowing in one deep and broad channel
toward the little wanderer. About nine in the morn-
ing, the signal gun was fired, which announced that
the child was found; and, for a moment, how dreadful
 FOURTH READER. 167

was the suspense! Was it found a mangled corpse?

or was it alive and well ?
10. Soon, a joyful shout proclaimed the safety of
the child. The shout was borne from tongue to
tongue, till the whole forest rang again with the joyful
sound. A messenger rapidly bore the tidings to the
distracted mother. A procession was immediately
formed by those engaged in the search. The child was
placed upon a platform, hastily formed from the boughs
of trees, and borne in triumph at the head of the pro-
cession. When they arrived at the brow of the hill,

they rested for a moment, and proclaimed their success

with three loud and animated cheers.
11. The procession then moved on till they arrived
in front of the dwelling where the parents of the child
resided. The mother, who stood at the door, with
streaming eyes and throbbing heart, could no longer
restrain herself or her feelings.
She rushed into the street, clasped her child to
12.
her bosom, and wept aloud. Every eye was filled
with tears, and, for a moment, all were silent. But
suddenly some one gave a signal for a shout. One
loud, and long, and happy note of joy rose from the
assembled multitude, and they went to their business
and their homes.
13. There was more joy over the one child that was
found than over the ninety and nine that went not
astray. Likewise, there is joy in the presence of the
angels of God over one sinner that repenteth. But
still, this is a feeble representation of the love of our
Father in heaven for us, and of the joy with which
the angels welcome the returning wanderer.
14. The mother can not feel for her child that is

lost as God feels for the unhappy wanderer in the

 :

168 ECLECTIC SERIES.

paths of sin. If a mother can feel so much, what;

must be the feelings of our Father in heaven for those
who have strayed from his love? If man can feel so
deep a sympathy, what must be the emotions which
glow in the bosom of angels?

Definitions. — 1. Sfip'a-rat-ed, parted. 2. Dis traet'ed, made

1
crazy. Sus-pense', doubt, uncertainty. 3. Traversed, passed over
and examined. 5. As-cer-tained', made certain. 6. Sympa-
thized, felt for. De-euVi-ty, descent of land. 7. Con-sul-ta/tion,
a meeting of persons to advise together. 8. Landscape, a portion of
territory which the eye can see in a single view. 10. Pro-claimed',

made known publicly. 11. Pro-ces'sion, a train of persons walking

or riding. 13. Rep-re-gen-ta/tion, the act of describing or showing.

LXII. WHICH?
By Mrs. E. L. Beers.

1. Which shall it be? Which shall it be?

I looked at John — John looked at me;
Dear, patient John, who loves me yet
As well as though my locks were jet.
And when I found that I must speak,
My voice seemed strangely low and weak
"Tell me again what Robert said!"
And then I, listening, bent my head.
"This is his letter:"

2.
" < I will give

A house and land while you shall live,

If, from out your seven,

in return,
One child to me for aye is given/"
I looked at John's old garments worn,
I thought of all that John had borne
 FOURTH READER. 169

Of poverty, and work, and care,

Which I, though willing, could not share;
I thought of seven mouths to feed,
Of seven little children's need,
And then of this.
"Come, John," said I,

"We'll choose among them as they lie

Asleep;" so, walking hand in hand,
Dear John and I surveyed our band.
First to the cradle light we stepped,
Where Lilian the baby slept,
A glory 'gainst the pillow white.
170 ECLECTIC SERIES.

Softly the father stooped to lay

His rough hand down in loving way,
When dream or whisper made her stir,
And huskily he said: "Not her!"

4. We stooped beside the trundle-bed,

And one long ray of lamp-light shed
Athwart the boyish faces there,
In sleep so pitiful and fair;
I saw on Jamie's rough, red cheek,
A tear undried. Ere John could speak,
"He's but a baby, too," said I,
And kissed him as we hurried by.

5. Pale, patient Robbie's angel face

Still in his sleep bore suffering's trace:
"No, for a thousand crowns, not him,"
He whispered, while our eyes were dim.
 — —
FOURTH READER. 171

6. Poor Dick! bad Dick! our wayward son,

Turbulent, reckless, idle one
Could he be spared? "Nay, He who gave,
Bade us befriend him to the grave;
Only a mother's heart can be
Patient enough for such as he;
And so," said John, " I would not dare
To send him from her bedside prayer."

7. Then stole we softly up above

|
And knelt by Mary, child of love.
"Perhaps for her 'twould better be,"
I said to John. Quite silently
He lifted up a curl that lay
Across her cheek in willful way,
And shook his head. "Nay, love, not thee,"
i
The while my heart beat audibly.

8. Only one more, our eldest lad,

Trusty and truthful, good and glad
;
So like his father. "No, John, no
I can not, will not let him go."

9. And so we wrote in courteous way,

We could not drive one child away.
And afterward, toil lighter seemed,
Thinking of that of which we dreamed;
Happy, in truth, that not one face
We missed from its accustomed place;
Thankful to work for all the seven,
Trusting the rest to One in heaven!

—
Definitions. 2. Aye, always. 3. Sur-veyed', took a view of.
5. Crown, an English silver coin worth about $1.20. 6. Way'-
jWard, willful. Tur'bu-lent, disposed to disorder. 9. Court/e-ous,
polite. Ae-eus'tomed, usual.
172 ECLECTIC SERIES.

LXIII. THE PET FAWN.

1. A peetty little fawn had been brought in from

the woods, when very young, and nursed and petted
by a lady in the village until it had become as tame

as possible. It was graceful, as those little creatures

always are, and so gentle and playful that it became
a great favorite, following the different members of the
family about, being caressed by the neighbors, and
welcome every-where.
2. One morning, after playing about as usual until
weary, it lay down in the sunshine, at the feet of one
of its friends, upon the steps of a store. There came
along a countryman, who for several years had been a
hunter by pursuit, and who still kept several hounds,
one of which was now with him.
3. The dog, as it approached the spot where the

fawn lay, suddenly stopped. The little animal saw

him, and started to its feet. It had lived more than
half its life among the dogs of the village, and had
apparently lostall fear of them ; but it seemed now to

know an enemy was near. In an instant, its

that
whole nature seemed changed; all its past habits were
forgotten; every wild impulse was awake; its head
erect, its nostrils dilated, its eyes flashing.
4. In another instant, before the spectators had
thought of the danger, and before its friends could
secure it, the fawn was bounding away through the
street, and the hound in full chase. The bystanders
were eager to save it; several persons immediately
followed its track; the friends who had long fed and
fondled it, calling the name it had hitherto known, in
vain.
 FOURTH READER. 173

5. The hunter endeavored to whistle back his dog,

but with no success. In half a minute the fawn had
turned the first corner, dashed onward toward the lake,
and thrown itself into the water. But if for a moment
the startled creature believed itself safe in the cool
bosom of the lake, it was soon undeceived for the ;

hound followed in hot and eager chase, while a dozen

village dogs joined blindly in the pursuit.
6. A large crowd collected on the bank men, —
—
women, and children anxious for the fate of the little
animal so well known to them all. Some threw them-
selves into boats, hoping to intercept the hound before
.

he reached his prey. The plashing of the oars, the

eager voices of men and boys, and the barking of the
dogs, must have filled the heart of the poor fawn with
terror and anguish, —
as though every creature on the
spot where it had once been caressed and fondled, had
suddenly turned into a deadly foe.

7. Itwas soon seen that the little animal was direct-

ing its course across a bay toward the nearest borders
of the forest. Immediately the owner of the hound
crossed the bridge, and ran at full speed, hoping to
stop his dog as he landed. On swam the fawn, as it
never swam before; its delicate head scarcely seen
above the water, but leaving a disturbed track, which
betrayed its course alike to its friends and foes.
8. As it approached the land, the interest became

intense. The hunter was already on the same side of

the lake, calling loudly and angrily to his dog; but
the hound seemed to have quite forgotten his master's
voice in the pitiless pursuit. The fawn reached the
shore :with a leap it had crossed the narrow strip of
beach, and in another instant it would reach the cover
of the woods.
174 ECLECTIC SERIES.

9. The hound followed true to the scent, pointing to

the same spot on the shore; his master, anxious to
meet him, had run at full speed, and was now coining
up at the same critical moment. Will the dog listen
to his voice? or can the hunter reach him in time to
seize and control him? A shout from the bank told
that the fawn had passed out of sight into the forest.
At the same instant, the hound, as he touched the
land, felt the hunter's strongarm clutching his neck.
The worst was believed to be over; the fawn was leap-
ing up the mountain-side, and its enemy was re-
strained. The other dogs, seeing their leader cowed,
were easily managed.
10. A number of persons, men and boys, dispersed
themselves through the woods in search of the little

creature, but without success; they all returned to the

village, had not been seen.
reporting that the fawn
Some thought that afterhad passed it
its fright
would return of its own accord. It wore a pretty
collar with its owner's name engraved upon it, so that
it could be easily known from any other fawn that

might be straying about the woods.

11. Before many hours had passed, a hunter pre-
sented himself to the lady whose pet the little creature
had been, and showed a collar with her name upon it.
He said that he was out hunting in the morning, and
saw a fawn in the distance. The little pet, instead of
bounding away, as he expected, moved toward him; he
took aim, fired, and shot it through the heart.

Definitions. — 1. Fawn, a young deer. Ca-ressed', fondled,

petted. 3. Di-lafed, extended, spread out. 4. Spee-ta/torg, those
who look on. 6. In-ter-cept', to stop, to seize. 7. Be-trayed',
showed. 8. In-tense', extreme. 9. ScSnt, track followed by the,

sense of smell. Cowed, made afraid.

 FOURTH READER. 175

LXIV. ANNIE'S DREAM.

1. It was a clear, cold, winter evening, and all the

Sinclairs but Annie had gone out for a neighborly
visit. She had resolved to stay at home and study a
long, difficult lesson in Natural Philosophy.
2. Left to herself, the evening passed quickly, but
the lesson was learned a full half hour before the time
set for the family to come home.
3. Closing her book, she leaned back in the soft
arm-chair in which she was sitting, soon fell asleep,
and began to dream. She dreamed that it was a very
cold morning, and that she was standing by the din-
ing-room stove, looking into the glass basin which was
every day filled with water for evaporation.
4. " Oh, dear," she sighed, " it is nearly school-

time. I don't want to go out in the cold this morn-

ing. Then there is that long lesson. I wonder if I
can say it. Let me see — it takes two hundred and
twelve degrees of heat, I believe, for water to evap-
orate
" —
5. "Nonsense!" "Ridiculous!" shouted a chorus
of strange little voices near by; "Look here! is this
water boiling? What an
two hundred and idea;
twelve degrees before we can fly, ha, ha !

6. "Who are you?" asked Annie, in amazement.

"Where must I look?" "In the basin, of course."

7. Annie looked, and saw a multitude of tiny forms

moving swiftly around, their numbers increasing as the

heat of the fire increased. "Why, you dear little
things!" said she, "what are you doing down there?"
, 8. "We are water-sprites," answered one, in the
clearest voice that can be imagined, "and when this
176 ECLECTIC SERIES.
delightful warmth comes all about us, we become so
light that we fly off, as you see."
9. In another moment he had joined a crowd of his
companions that were spreading their wings and flying
off in curling, white clouds over Annie's head. But
they were so light and thin that they soon disappeared
in the air.
10. where they went, so she again
She could not see
turned to "Doesn't it hurt you," she
the basin.
asked one, "to be heated ?" "Not always to two —
hundred and twelve," said the sprite, mischievously.
11. "No, no," replied Annie, half-vexed ; J'
I re-
member, that is boiling point — but I mean, to be
heated as you all are, and then to fly off in the
cold?"
12. "Oh, no," laughed the little sprite; "we like
it. We are made to change by God's wise laws, and
so it can't hurt us. We are all the time at work, in
our way, taking different shapes. It is good for us.
If you will go to the window, you will find some of
my brothers and sisters on the glass."
13. Annie went to the window, and at first could
see nothing but some beautiful frost-work on it.

Soon, however, the panes seemed to swarm with little

folks. Their wings w erer

as white as snow, and
sparkled with ice-jewels.
14. "Oh," cried Annie, "this is the prettiest sight
I ever saw. What
your name, darling?" she asked
is

one that wore a crown of snow-roses. The little voice

that replied was so sharp and fine that Annie thought
it seemed like a needle-point of sound, and she began

to laugh.
15. " Fine-frost is our family name," it said. " I

have a first name of my own, but I shall not tell you

 FOURTH READER. 177

|
what it is, for you are so impolite as to laugh at
\
me."
I
16. "I beg your pardon, dear/' said Annie; "I
could not help it. I will not laugh at you any more
!
if you will tell me how you came here. I have been

|
talking with one of your brothers over there in the
basin."
17. The little sprite then folded her wings in a dig-
nified manner, and said, "I will tell you all I know
I about it, since you promise to be polite. It is a very
short story, however.
"Last evening we all escaped from the glass
18.
basin, asyou have seen our companions do this morn-
j
ing. Oh, how light and free we felt But we were !

so very delicate and thin that no one saw us as we

flew about in the air of the room.
_ 19. "After a while I flew with these others to this

|
window, and, as we alighted on the glass, the cold
changed us from water-sprites into sprites of the Fine-
frost family." " It is very wonderful," said Annie.
"Is it nice to be a sprite?"
20. "Oh, yes, we are very gay. All last night we
had a fine time sparkling in the moonlight, I wore a
long wreath full of ice-pearls and diamonds. Here is

a piece of it. Before long we shall be water-sprites

again. I see the sun is coming this way."
21. "Shall you dread to be melted?" inquired
Annie. " No, indeed," answered the sprite. " I like
to change my form now and then."
22. A thought flashed across Annie's brain. What
if she should breathe on the frost and not wait for
the sun to melt it. In a moment more she had done
so. Down fell a great number of the tiny mountains
and castles, carrying with them a multitude of frost
(4.-12.)
 178 ECLECTIC SERIES.

sprites, and all that could be seen was a drop of

water on the window-sill.
23. "Oh, dear! have I hurt them?" she exclaimed.
"No, no/' replied a chorus of many small voices from
the drop of water, " we are only water-sprites again.
Nothing hurts us; we merely change." "But you are
always pretty little things/' said Annie. "I wish —•"
Here a ring at the door-bell woke Annie.
24. She
started up to find the family had returned from their
visit, which all was a delightful one. But
declared
Annie said she did not believe they had enjoyed their
visit better than she had her half-hour's dream.

Definitions. — 1. Nat'u-ral Phi-los'o-phy, the study which

teaches about the laws of matter in nature. 3. E-vap-o-ra/tion, the
act of turning into vapor. 4. De-gree', a division of space marked
on an instrument such as a thermometer. 8. Wa/ter-sprite, a spirit
or fairy living in the water. 10. Mis'chiev-ous-ly, in a teasing
manner. 13. Swarm, to be crowded. 18. Es-eaped', got away, fled.

LXV. MY GHOST.

By Mrs. S. M. 15. Piatt, who was born near Lexington, Ky., in 1836.
Among her published works may be mentioned " The Nests at Wash-
ington, and Other Poems," and " A Woman's Poems."

1. Yes, Katie, I think you are very sweet,

Now that the tangles are out of your hair,
And you sing as well as the birds you meet,
That are playing, like you, in the blossoms there.
But now you are coming to kiss me, you say:
Well, what is it for? Shall I tie your shoe?
Or loop up your sleeve in a prettier way?
"Do I know about ghosts?" Indeed I do.
 FOURTH READER. 179

2. "Have I seen one?" Yes; last evening, you know,

We were taking a walk that you had to miss,
(I think you were naughty, and cried to go,
But, surely, you'll stay at home after this!)
And, away in the twilight, lonesomely,
("What is the twilight?" It's— getting late!)
I was thinking of things that were sad to me!—
There, hush you know nothing about them, Kate.
!

3. Well, we had to go through the rocky lane,

Close to that bridge where the water roars,
By a still, red house, where the dark and rain
Go in when they will at the open doors.
And the moon, that had just waked up, looked
through
The broken old windows, and seemed afraid,
|
And the wild bats flew, and the thistles grew
Where once in the roses the children played.

4. Just across the road by the cherry-trees

Some fallen white stones had been lying so long,
I
Half hid in the grass, and under these
There were people dead. I could hear the song
Of a very sleepy dove as I passed
The graveyard and the cricket that cried;
near,
And I look'd (ah! the Ghostis coming at last!)

And something was walking at my side.

5. It seemed to be wrappeddark shawl

in a great
(For the night was a you know,)
little cold, ;

It would not speak. It was black and tall;

And it walked so proudly and very slow.
 ——
180 ECLECTIC SERIES.

Then it mocked me every thing I could do:

Now it caught at the lightning-flies like me;
Now it stopped where the elder-blossoms grew;
Now it tore the thorns from a gray bent tree.

6. Still it followed me under the yellow moon,

Looking back to the graveyard now and then,
Where the winds were playing the night a tune
But, Kate, a Ghost doesn't care for men,
And your papa couldn't have done it harm.
Ah! dark-eyed you see?
darling, what is it

There, you needn't hide in your dimpled arm

It was only my shadow that walk'd with me!

LXVI. THE ELEPHANT.

1. The
elephant is the largest of quadrupeds; his
height from eight to fourteen feet, and his length,
is

from ten to fifteen feet. His form is that of a hog;

his eyes are small and lively; his ears are long, broad
and pendulous. He has two large tusks, which form
the ivory of commerce, and a trunk, or proboscis, at
the end of the nose, which he uses to take his food
with, and for attack or defense. His color is a dark
ash-brown.
2. Elephants often assemble in large troops; and, as
they march in search of food, the forests seem to trem-
ble under them. They eat the branches of trees, to-
gether with roots, herbs, leaves, grain, and fruit, but
will not touch fish nor flesh. In a state of nature,
they are peaceable, mild, and brave; exerting their
 FOURTH READER. 181

power only for their own protection or in defense of

their own species.
3. Elephants are found both in Asia and Africa,

but they are of different species, the Asiatic elephant

having five toes, and the African, three. These ani-
mals are caught by stratagem, and, when tamed, they
are the most gentle, obedient, and patient, as well as
the most docile and sagacious of all quadrupeds. They
are used to carry burdens, and for traveling. Their
attachment to their masters is remarkable; and they
seem to live but to serve and obey them. They
always kneel to receive their riders or the loads they
have to carry.
4. The anecdotes illustrating the character of the
elephant are numerous. An elephant which was kept
for exhibition at London, was often required, as is

usual in such exhibitions, to pick up with his trunk a

piece of money thrown upon the floor for this purpose.
On one occasion a sixpence was thrown, which hap-
pened to roll a little out of his reach, not far from the
wall. Being desired to pick it up, he stretched out
his proboscis several times to reach it; failing in this,
he stood motionless a few seconds, evidently consider-
ing how to act.
5. He then stretched his proboscis in a straight line

as far as he could, a little distance coin, and above the

blew with great force against the wall. The angle
produced by the opposition of the wall, made the cur-
rent of air act under the coin, as he evidently sup-
posed it it was curious to observe the six-
would, and
pence traveling toward the animal till it came within
his reach, when he picked it up.
6. A who had
soldier in India, frequently carried an
elephant some arrack, being one day intoxicated, and
182 ECLECTIC SERIES.

seeing himself pursued by the guard whose orders

were to conduct him to prison, took refuge under the
elephant. The guard soon finding his retreat, at-
tempted in vain to take him from his asylum; for the
elephant vigorously defended him with his trunk.
7. As soon as the soldier became sober, and saw
himself placed under such an unwieldy animal, he was
so terrified that he scarcely durst move either hand or
foot; but the elephant soon caused his fears to subside
by caressing him with his trunk, and thus tacitly say-

ing, "Depart in peace."

8. A pleasing anecdote is related of an elephant
which was the property of the nabob of Lucknow.
There was in that city an epidemic disorder, making
dreadful havoc among the inhabitants. The road to
the palace gate was covered with the sick and dying,
lying on the ground at the moment the nabob was
about to pass.
9. Regardless of the suffering he must cause, the
nabob held on his way, not caring whether his beast
trod upon the poor helpless creatures or not. But the
animal, more kind-hearted than his master, carefully
cleared the path of the poor, helpless wretches as he
went along. Some he lifted with his trunk, entirely
out of the road. Some he set upon their feet, and
among the others he stepped so carefully that not an
individual was injured.

Definition's. — 1. Quad'ru-ped, an animal having four feet.

P8ncTu-lous, hanging down. CSm'me^e, trade. Pro-bSs^is,
snout, trunk. 3. Strat/a-geua, artifice. DSt/ile, teachable. 6. Ar-
rack, a spirituous liquor made from the juice of the cocoa-nut.
A-sy'lum, a refuge. 7. Un-wield'y, heavy, unmanageable. Tk(f-
/
it-ly, silently. 8. Ep-i-d8m ie, affecting many people. Na'bob, a
prince in India.
 FOURTH READER. 183

LXVII. DARE TO DO RIGHT.

Adapted from School Days at Rugby," by Thomas Hughes, an En-
"

glish writer well known through this book, and its sequel, "Tom
Brown at Oxford.'' The author was born in 1823.

1. The
little school-boys went quietly to their own

beds, and began undressing and talking to one another

in whispers while the elder, amongst whom was Tom,
:

sat chatting about on one another's beds, with their

jackets and waistcoats off.
2. Poor little Arthur was overwhelmed with the
novelty of his position.The idea of sleeping in the
room with strange boys had clearly never crossed his
mind before, and was as painful as it was strange to
him. He could hardly bear to take his jacket off;

however, presently, with an effort, off it came, and

then he paused and looked at Tom, who was sitting at
the bottom of his bed, talking and laughing.
3. "Please, Brown," he whispered, "may I wash
my face and hands?" "Of course, if you like," said
Tom, staring: "that's your washhand-stand under the
window, second from your bed. You'll have to go
down for more water in the morning if you use it
all."

4. And on he went with his talk, while Arthur stole

timidly from between the beds out to his washhand-
stand, and began his ablutions, thereby drawing for a
moment on himself the attention of the room.
5. On went the talk and laughter. Arthur finished
his washing and undressing, and put on his night-
gown. He then looked round more nervously than
ever. Two or three of the little boys were already in
bed, sitting up with their chins on their knees. The
light burned clear, the noise went on.
184 ECLECTIC SERIES.

6. It was a trying moment for the poor, little, lonely

boy; however, this time he did not ask Tom what he

might or might not do, but dropped on his knees by
his bedside, as he had done every day from his child-
hood, to open his heart to Him who heareth the cry
and beareth the sorrows of the tender child, and the
strong man in agony.
7. Tom was sitting at the bottom of his bed unlac-
ing his boots, so that his back was towards Arthur,
and he did not see what had happened, and looked up
in wonder at the sudden silence. Then two or three
boys laughed and sneered, and a big, brutal fellow,
who was standing in the middle of the room, picked
up a slipper and shied it at the kneeling boy, calling
him a sniveling young shaver.
8. Then .Tom saw the whole, and the next moment

the boot he had just pulled off flew straight at the

head of the bully, who had just time to throw up his
arm and catch it on his elbow. " Confound you,
Brown; what's that for?" roared he, stamping with
pain. "Never mind what I mean," said Tom, step-
ping on to the floor, every drop of blood in his body
tingling: "if any fellow wants the other boot, he
knows how to get it."
9. What would have been the result is doubtful, for
at this moment the sixth -form boy came in, and not
another word could be said. Tom and the rgpt rushed
into bed and finished their unrobing there, and the
old janitor had put out the candle in another minute,
and toddled on to the next room, shutting the door
with his usual, "Good night, gen'Pm'n."
There were many boys in the room by whom
10.
that little scene was taken to heart before they slept.
But sleep seemed to have deserted the pillow of poor
 FOURTH READER. 185

Tom. For some time his excitement and the flood

of memories which chased one another through his
brain, kept him from thinking or resolving. His
head throbbed, his heart leapt, and he could hardly
keep himself from springing out of bed and rushing
about the room.
186 ECLECTIC SERIES.

11. the thought of his own mother came

Then
across and the promise he had made at her
him,
knee, years ago, never to forget to kneel by his bed-
side and give himself up to his Father before he laid
his head on the pillow, from which it might never
rise; and he lay down gently, and cried as if his
heart would break. He was only fourteen years old.

Definitions. — I. Waist'ooat, a vest. 2. O-ver-whelmed', over-

come, cast down. 3. Nov'el-ty, newness. 4. Ab-hYtion, the act

of washing. 7. Sneered, showed contempt. 8. BulFy, a noisy,

blustering fellow, more insolent than courageous. Tin/gling, having
a thrilling feeling.

Notes. — " Rugby," the scene of this story, is a celebrated

grammar school which was established at the town of Eugby,
England, in 1567.
9. Sixth-form boy. The school was graded into six classes or
"forms," and the boys of the highest, or sixth, form were ex-
pected to keep the smaller boys under them in order.

Exercises. —What
were Arthur's feelings the first night at
Rugby? happened when he said his prayers.
Relate what
What do you think of the boy who threw the slipper? Was
Tom right in defending Arthur from insult?

LXVIII. DARE TO DO RIGHT.

(Concluded.)

1. It was no light act of courage in those days for

a little fellow to say his prayers publicly, even at
Rugby. A few years later, when Arnold's manly
piety had begun to leaven the school, the tables
turned : before he died, in the School-house at least,
 I
FOURTH READER. 187

and I believe in the other houses, the rule was the

|
other way.
2. But poor Tom had come to school in other
times. The first few nights after he came he did not
I kneel down because of the noise, but sat up in bed
till the candle was out, and then stole out and said

[
-
his prayers, in fear lest some one should find him out.

j
So did many another poor little fellow.
3. Then he began to think that he might just as
I well say his prayers in bed, and then that it did not
| matter whether he was kneeling, or sitting, or lying
I down. And so it had come to pass with Tom, as
j
with all who will not confess their Lord before men;
j and for the last year he had probably not said his
prayers in earnest a dozen times.
I 4. Poor Tom! the first and bitterest feeling, which
| was like to break his heart, was the sense of his own
| cowardice. The vice of all others which he loathed
ttwas brought in and burned in on his own soul. He
I
I had lied to his mother, to his conscience, to his God.
How could he bear it? And then the poor, little,

[
weak boy, whom he had and almost scorned
pitied
for his weakness, had done that which he, braggart as
he was, dared not do.
»• 5. The first to him in vow-
dawn of comfort came
I
ing to himself thatwould stand by that boy
he
through thick and thin, and cheer him, and help him,
j/
and bear his burdens, for the good deed done that
|
night. Then he resolved to write home next day and
| tell his mother all, and what a coward her son had

I been. And then peace came to him as he resolved,

Ml lastly, to bear his testimony next morning.
6. The morning would be harder than the night to
I
I begin with, but he felt that he could not afford to let
188 ECLECTIC SERIES.

one chance slip. Several times he faltered, for the

Devil showed him, first, all his old friends calling him
" Saint," and " Squaretoes," and a dozen hard names,
and whispered to him that his motives would be mis-
understood, and he would be left alone with the new
boy; whereas, it was his duty to keep all means of
influence, that he might do good to the largest num-
ber.
7. And then came the more subtle temptation,
" shall I not be showing myself braver than others
by doing this? Have I any right to begin it now?
Ought I not rather to pray in my own study, letting
other boys know that I do so, and trying to lead them
to it, while in public, at least, I should go on as I have
done?" However, his good angel was too strong that
night, and he turned on his side and slept, tired of
trying to reason, but resolved to follow the impulse
which had been so strong, and in which he had found
peace.
8. Next morning he was up and washed and dressed,
all but his jacket and waistcoat, just as the ten min-
utes' bellbegan to ring, and then in the face of the
whole room he knelt down to pray. Not five words
—
could he say, the bell mocked him; he was listening
for every whisper in the room, —what were they all

thinking of him?
He was ashamed to go on kneeling, ashamed to
9.

risefrom his knees. At last, as it were from his in-

most heart, a still, small voice seemed to breathe forth
the words of the publican, " God be merciful to me a
sinner!" He repeated them over and over, clinging
to them as for his life, and rose from his knees com-
forted and humbled, and ready to face the whole
world.
 FOURTH READER. 189

10. It was not needed: two other boys besides

Arthur had already followed his example, and he went
down to the great school with a glimmering of
another lesson in his heart, —the lesson that he who
has conquered his own coward spirit has conquered
the whole outward world; and that other one which
the old prophet learned in the cave at Mount Horeb,
when he hid his face, and the still, small voice asked,
"What doest thou here, Elijah?" —that however we
may fancy ourselves alone on the side of good, the
King and Lord of men is nowhere without his wit-
nesses; for in every society, however seemingly cor-
rupt and godless, there are those who have not bowed
the knee to Baal.
11. He found, too, how greatly he had exaggerated
the effect to be produced by his act. For a few
nights there was a sneer or a laugh when he knelt
down, but this passed off soon, and one by one all

the other boys but three or four followed the lead.

—
Definitions. 1. Leaven, to make a general change, to imbue.
4. Loathed, hated, detested. Braggart, a boaster. 5. Vow / ing,
making a solemn promise to God. TeVti-mo-ny, open declaration.
6. FaKtered, hesitated. Mo'tive, that which causes action, cause,
reason. 7. Stib'tle (pro. sut'l), artful, cunning. Stiid'y, a private
room devoted to study. 10. Glim'mer-ing, a faint view.

Notes. — 1. Arnold's. Dr. Thomas Arnold was head master at

Rugby His influence on the character of
nearly fifteen years.
the boys was very marked, and soon made the school celebrated
throughout England^
The School-house was the name of one of the numerous build-
ings belonging to Rugby.

—
Exercises. Relate Tom's early experience at Rugby. Was
it courageous in him to stop saying his prayers? How did he
feel over it? What did he resolve to do? Did he carry out
his resolve? What two lessons was he taught?
 "

190 ECLECTIC SERIES.

LXIX. THE WRECK OP THE HESPERUS.

By Henry Watlswortli Longfellow, one of the greatest of American
poets. He was born in Portland, Me., in 1807. For some years he held
the professorship of Modern Languages in Bowdoin College, and later
a similar professorship in Harvard College. He died March 24th, 1882.

1. It was the schooner Hesperus,

That sailed the wintry sea;
And the skipper had taken his little daughter,
To bear him company.

2. Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax,

Her cheeks like the dawn of day,
And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds,
That ope in the month of May.

3. The skipper, he stood beside the helm,

His pipe was in his mouth,
And he watched how the veering flaw did blow
The smoke now west, now south.

4. Then up and spake an old sailor,

Had sailed to the Spanish Main,

" I pray thee, put into yonder port,
For I fear the hurricane.

5. " Last night, the moon had a golden ring,

And to-night no moon we see !

The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe,

And a scornful laugh laughed he.

6. Colder and louder blew the wind,

A gale from the north-east;
The snow fell hissing in the brine,
And the billows frothed like yeast.
 —
FOURTH READER. 191

7. Down came the storm, and smote amain

The vessel in its strength;
She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed,
Then leaped her cable's length.

8. "Come hither! come hither! my little daughter,

And do not tremble so;
For I can weather the roughest gale
That ever wind did blow."

9. He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat,

Against the stinging blast:
He cut a rope from a broken spar,
And bound her to the mast.

10. "O father! I hear the church bells ring,

Oh say, what may it be?"
"'Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!"
And he steered for the open sea.

11. "O father! I hear the sound of guns,

Oh say, what may it be?"
"Some ship in distress, that can not live
In such an angry sea!"

12. "O father I see a gleaming light,

!

Oh what may it be?"

say,
But the father answered never a word,
A frozen corpse was he.

13. Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,

With his face turned to the skies,
The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow
On his fixed and glassy eyes.
192 ECLECTIC SERIES.

14. Then the maiden clasped her hands, and prayed

That saved she might be;
And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave
On the lake of Galilee.

15. And fast through the midnight dark and drear,

Through the whistling sleet and snow,
Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept
Tow'rds the reef of Norman's Woe.

16. And ever the fitful gusts between

A sound came from the land:
It was the sound of the trampling surf
On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.

17. The breakers were right beneath her bows,

She drifted a dreary wreck,
And a whooping billow swept the crew
Like icicles from her deck.

18. She struck where the white and fleecy waves

Looked soft as carded wool,
But the cruel rocks, they gored her side
Like the horns of an angry bull.

19. Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice,

With the masts, went by the board;
Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank,—
Ho! ho! the breakers roared!

20. At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach,

A fisherman stood aghast,
To see the form of a maiden fair

Lashed close to a drifting mast.

 !:

FOURTH READER. 193

21. The salt sea was frozen on her breast,

The salt tears in her eyes;
And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed,
On the billows fall and rise.

22. Such was the wreck of the Hesperus

In the midnight and the snow
Heav'n save us all from a death like this
On the reef of Norman's Woe
—
Definitions. 1. Skip'per, the master of a small merchant ves-
sel. 3. Veering, changing. Flaw, a sudden gust of wind. 4.
Port, harbor. 6. Brine, the sea. 7. A-main', with sudden force.
8. W8ath / er, to endure, to resist. 9. Spar, a long beam. 13.
H&lm, the instrument by which a ship is steered. 18. Card'ed,
cleaned by combing. 19. Shroud§,of ropes reaching from the
sets

mast-heads to the sides of a vessel to support the masts. Stove,

broke in.

Notes. —This piece is written in the style of the old English

ballads. The syllables marked (
x
) have a peculiar accent not
usually allowed.
4. The Spanish Main was the name formerly applied to the
southern part of the Caribbean Sea and its adjacent coasts.
The reef of Norman's Woe. A dangerous ledge of rocks
15.
on the Massachusetts coast, near Gloucester harbor.
19. Went by the board. A sailor's expression, meaning " fell

over the side of the vessel."

LXX. ANECDOTES OP BIRDS.

1. I HAD once a favorite black hen, aa great

beauty/' as she was called by every one, and so I
thought her; her feathers were so jetty, and her top-
ping so white and full! She knew my voice as well
as any dog, and used to run cackling and bustling to
(4.-13.)
194 ECLECTIC SERIES.
my hand to receive the fragments that I never failed
to collect from the breakfast table for " Yarico," as
she was called.
2o Yarico, by the time she was a year old, hatched
a respectable family of chickens; little, cowering,
timid things at first, but, in due time, they became
fine chubby ones ; and old Norah said, " If I could
only keep Yarico out of the copse, it would do; but
the copse is full of weasels and of foxes.
3. "I have driven her back twenty times; but she
watches till some one goes out of the gate, and then
she's off again. It is always the case with young
hens, Miss; they think they know better than their
keepers; and nothing cures them but losing a brood
or two of chickens." I have often thought since that
young people, as well as young hens, buy their expe-
rience equally dear.
4. One morning, after breakfast, I went to seek my
favorite in the poultry-yard; plenty of hens were
there, but no Yarico. The gate was open, and, as I
concluded she had sought the forbidden copse, I pro-
ceeded there, accompanied by the yard-mastiff, a noble
fellow, steadyand sagacious as a judge.
5. At on one side by a
the end of a lane, flanked
quickset hedge, on the other by a wild common, what
was called the copse commenced; but before I arrived
near the spot I heard a loud and tremendous cackling,
and met two young, long-legged pullets, running with
both wings and feet toward home. Jock pricked up
his sharp ears, and would have set off at full gallop to
the copse; but I restrained him, hastening onward,
however, at the top of my speed, thinking I had as
good a right to see what was the matter as Jock.
6. Poor Yarico An impertinent fox-cub had
! at-
 FOURTH READER. 195

tempted one of her children; but she had

to carry off
managed tothem behind her in the hedge, and
get
venturing boldly forth had placed herself in front,
and positively kept the impudent animal at bay. His
desire for plunder had prevented his noticing our
approach, and Jock soon made him feel the superior-
ity of an English mastiff over a cub-fox.
7. The most interesting portion of my tale is to
come. Yarico not only never afterward ventured to
the copse, but formed a strong friendship for the dog
which had preserved her family. Whenever he ap-
peared in the yard, she would run to meet him, prat-
ing and clucking all the time, and impeding his prog-
ress by walking between his legs, to his no small
annoyance. If any other dog entered the yard, she
would fly at him most furiously, thinking, perhaps,
that he would injure her chickens; but she evidently
considered Jock her especial protector, and treated
him accordingly.
It was very droll to see the peculiar look with
8.

which he regarded his feathered friend not knowing ;

exactly what to make of her civilities, and doubting

how they should be received. When her family were
educated, and able to do without her care, she was a
frequent visitor at Jock's kennel, and would, if per-
mitted, roost there at night, instead of returning with
the rest of the poultry to the hen-house. Yarico cer-
tainlywas a most grateful and interesting bird. * *
9. One could almost believe a parrot had intellect,
when he keeps up a conversation so spiritedly; and it
is certainly singular to observe how accurately a well-
trained bird will apply his knowledge. A friend of
mine knew one that had been taught many sentences;
thus, " Sally, Poll wants her breakfast " " Sally, !
196 ECLECTIC SERIES.

Poll wants her tea!" but she never mistook the one
for the other; breakfast was invariably demanded in
the morning, and tea in the afternoon; and she always
hailed her master, but no one else, by "How do you
do, Mr. A?"
10. She was a most amusing bird, and could whistle
dogs, which she had great pleasure in doing. She
would drop bread out of her cage as she hung at the
street door, and whistle a number about her, and
then, just as they were going to possess themselves of
her bounty, utter a shrill scream of "Get out, dogs!"
with such vehemence and authority as dispersed the
assembled company without a morsel, to her infinite

delight. * * *
11. How wonderful is that instinct by which the
bird of passage performs its annual migration! But
how still more wonderful is it when the bird, after its

voyage of thousands of miles has been performed, and

new lands visited, returns to the precise window or
eaves where, the summer before, it first enjoyed exist-
ence! And yet, such is unquestionably the fact.

12. Four brothers had Avatched with indignation the

felonious attempts of a sparrow to possess himself of
the nest of a house-martin, in which lay its young
brood of four unfledged birds.
13. The little fellows considered themselves as cham-
pions for the bird which had come over land and sea,
and chosen its shelter under their mother's roof. They
therefore marshaled themselves with blow-guns, to
execute summary vengeance; but their well-meant en-
deavors brought destruction upon the mud-built dom-
icile they wished to defend. Their artillery loosened
the foundations, and down it came, precipitating its

four little inmates to the ground. The mother of the

 FOURTH READER. 197

children, Good Samaritan-like, replaced the little out-

casts in their nest, and set it in the open window of
an unoccupied chamber.
14. The parent-birds, after the first terror was over,
did not appear disconcerted by the change of situa-
tion, but hourly fed their young as usual, and testi-

fied, by their unwearied twitter of pleasure, the satis-

faction and confidence they felt. There the young
birds were duly fledged, and from that window they
began their flight, and entered upon life.
15. The. next spring, with there-appearance of the
martins, came four, which familiarly flew into the
chamber, visited all the walls, and expressed their
recognition by the most clamorous twitterings of joy.
They were, without question, the very birds that had
been bred there the preceding year.

Definitions. — 2. CSpse, a grove of small trees or bushes. 4.

Sa-ga'cious, quick in discernment. 6. Im-per'ti-nent, rude, intru-

sive. 8. K6n / nel, a place for dogs. 10. Ve'he-nienQe, force. 11.
Ml-gra'tion, change of place, removal. 12. Fe-lo'ni-ous, criminal.
13. DSm'i-^ile, the home or residence of any one. Ar-tiFler-y,
weapons of warfare. 14. Dis-eon-^ert/ed, interrupted, confused.
/
15. R8€-og-ni tion, recollection of a former acquaintance.

LXXI. THE RAINBOW-PILGRIMAGE.

By Sara J. Lippincott, born at Onondaga, N. Y., of New England
parentage. Under the name of " Grace Greenwood " she has written
many charming slories for children. Some of her best sketches are in
I Records of Five Years."

1. One summer afternoon, when I was about eight

years of age, I was standing at an eastern window,
looking at a beautiful rainbow that, bending from the
 "
198 ECLECTIC SERIES.
sky, seemed to be losing itself in a thick, swampy
wood about a quarter of a mile distant.
2. It happened that no one was in the room with
me then but my brother Rufus, who was just recover-
ing from a severe illness, and was sitting, propped up
with pillows, in an easy-chair, looking out, with me, at
the rainbow.
3. "See, brother," I said, "it drops right down
among the cedars, where we go in the spring to find
!
winter-greens
4. Do you know, Gracie," said my brother, with
"

a very serious face, " that if you should go to the end

of the rainbow, you would find there purses filled

with money, and great pots of gold and silver?"

5. "Is it truly so?" I asked.
6. "Truly so," answered my brother, with a smile.
Now, I was a simple-hearted child who believed
every thing that was told me, although I was again
and again imposed upon; so, without another word,
I darted out of the door, and set forth toward the
wood. My brother called after me as loudly as he
was able, but I did not heed him.
7. I cared nothing for the wet grass, which was
sadly drabbling my clean frock, —
on and on I ran: I
was so sure that I knew just where that rainbow
ended. I remember how glad and proud I was in
my thoughts, and what fine presents I promised to all
my friends out of my great riches.
8. So thinking, and laying delightful plans, almost
before I knew it I had reached the cedar grove, and
the end of the rainbow was not there! But I saw it

shining down among the trees a little farther off; so

on and on I struggled, through the thick bushes and
over logs, till I came within the sound of a stream
 "

FOURTH READER. 199

which ran through the swamp. Then I thought,

"What rainbow should come down right in the
if the

middle of that deep, muddy brook

!

9. Ah! but I was frightened for my heavy pots of

gold and and my purses of money.

silver, How
should them there? and what a time I
I ever find
should have getting them out I reached the bank of
!

the stream, and "the end was not yet." But I could
see it a little way off on the other side. I crossed the
creek on a fallen tree, and still ran on, though my
limbs seemed to give way, and my side ached with
fatigue.
10. The woods grew thicker and darker, the ground
more wet and swampy, and I found, as many grown
people had found before me, that there was rather
hard traveling in a journey after riches. Suddenly I
met in my way a large porcupine, who made himself
still larger when he saw me, as a cross cat raises its

back and makes tails at a dog. Fearing that he

would shoot his sharp quills at me, I ran from him
as fast as my would carry me.
tired feet
11. In my and hurry I forgot to keep my
fright
eye on the rainbow, as I had done before; and when,
at last, I remembered and looked for it, it was no-
where in sight! It had quite faded away. When I
saw that it was indeed gone, I burst into tears; for I
had lost all my treasures, and had nothing to show
for my pilgrimage but muddy feet and a wet and
torn frock. So I set out for home.
12. But I soon found that my troubles had only
begun I could not find my way I was lost
; I : !

could not tell which was east or west, north or south,

but wandered about here and there, crying and call-
ing, though I knew that no one could hear me.
 —
200 ECLECTIC SERIES.

once I heard voices shouting and halloo-

13. All at
ing; but, of being rejoiced at this, I was
instead
frightened, fearing that the Indians were upon me! I
crawled under some bushes, by the side of a large log,
and lay perfectly still. I was wet, cold, scared,
altogether very miserable indeed when the voices ;
yet,
came near, I did not start up and show myself.
14. At last I heard my own name called; but I
remembered that Indians were very cunning, and
thought they might have found it out some way, so
I did not answer. Then came a voice near me, that
sounded like that of my eldest brother, who lived
away from home, and whom I had not seen for many
months; but I dared not believe that the voice was
his.

15. Soon some one sprang up on the log by which

I lay, and stood there calling. I could not see his
face; I could only see the tips of his toes, but by
them I saw that he wore a nice pair of boots, and not
moccasins. Yet I remembered that some Indians
dressed like white folks; so I still kept quiet, till I
heard shouted over me a pet name, which this brother
had given me. It was the funniest name in the
world.
16. I knew that no Indian knew of the name, as it

was a little family secret; so I sprang up, and caught

my brother about the ankles. I hardly think that an
Indian could have given a louder yell than he gave
then; and he jumped so that he fell off the log down
by my side. But nobody was hurt; and, after kissing
me till he had kissed away all my tears, he hoisted
me on to his shoulder, called my other brothers, who
were hunting in different directions, and we all set
out for home.
 FOURTH READER. 201

17. I had been gone nearly three hours, and had

wandered a number of miles. My brother Joseph's
coming and asking for me, had first set them to in-
quiring and searching me out. When I went into the
room where my brother Rufus sat, he said, "Why,
my poor little sister! I did not mean to send you
offon such a wild-goose chase to the end of the rain-
bow. I thought you would know I was only quiz-
zing you."
18. Then my eldest brother took me on his knee,
and told me what the rainbow really was: that it was
only painted air, and did not rest on the earth, so no-
body could ever find the end; and that God had set
it in the cloud to remind him and us of his promise
never again to drown the world with a flood. "Oh, I
think God's Promise would be a beautiful name for
the rainbow!" I said.
19. "Yes," replied my mother, "but it tells us
something more than that he will not send great
floods upon the earth, — it tells us of his beautiful
love always bending over us from the skies. And I
trust that when my on a pilgrim-
little girl sets forth
age to find God's love, she will be led by the rain-
bow of his promise through all the dark places of
this world to 'treasures laid up in heaven,' better,
far better, than silver or gold."

Definitions. — 2. Be-eov'er-ing, growing well. 3. "Win'ter-

green, a creeping evergreen plant with bright red berries. 6. Im-
posed7 ,
with on or upon), deceived, misled.
(used 7. Drab-

bling, making dirty by drawing in mud and water. 10. Porcu-

pine, a small quadruped whose body is covered with sharp quills.
11. Pil'grim-age, journey. 15. Mfte'ea-sing, shoes of deer-skin with-
out soles, such as are usually worn by Indians, 17. Quizzing,
making sport of.
 ! ;

202 ECLECTIC SERIES.

LXXII. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET.

By Samuel Woodworth, who was born in Massachusetts in 1785. He
was both author and editor. This is his best known poem.

1. How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,

When fond recollection presents them to view
The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wild-wood,
And every loved spot which my infancy knew
 ; ; ::

FOURTH READER. 203

The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it:

The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell:

The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it,
And e'en the rude bucket which hung in the well:
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.

2. That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure

For often, at noon, when returned from the field,
I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure,
The purest and sweetest that nature can yield.
How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing,
And quick to the whife-pebbled bottom it fell
Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing,
And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket arose from the well.

3. How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it,

As poised on the curb, it inclined to my lips!

Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it,

Though filled with the nectar which Jupiter sips;
And now, far removed from thy loved situation,
The tear of regret will intrusively swell,
As fancy reverts to my father's plantation,
And sighs for the bucket which hangs in the well
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket, which hangs in the well.

Definitions. — 1. Cat'a-raet, a great fall of water. 2. Over-

flowing, running over. Ex'qui-site, exceeding, extreme. 3. Poised 7 ,

balanced. GoVlet, a kind of cup or drinking vessel. NeVtar, the

drink of the gods. In-tru'sive-ly, without right or welcome. Ke-
verts', returns.

Exercises. — Who was the author of "The Old Oaken

Bucket?" What is said of this piece? What does the poem
describe? and what feeling does it express?
204 ECLECTIC SERIES.

LXXIII. THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT.

1. And seeing the multitudes, he went up into a

mountain: and when he was set, his disciples came
unto him; and he opened his mouth and taught them,
saying,
2. Blessed are the poor in spirit; for theirs is the
kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn;
for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek;
for they shall inherit the earth.
3. Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after
righteousness; for they shall be filled. Blessed are
the merciful; for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed
are the pure in heart; for they shall see God.
4. Blessed are the peace-makers; for they shall be
called the children of God. Blessed are they which
are persecuted for righteousness' sake; for theirs is the
kingdom of heaven.
5. Blessed are ye when men shall revile you, and
persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against
you falsely, for my
sake. Rejoice and be exceeding
glad; for great your reward in heaven. * * *
is

6. Ye have heard that it hath been said by them

of old time, Thou shalt not forswear thyself, but shalt
perform unto the Lord thine oaths: but I say unto
you, Swear not at all; neither by heaven; for it is

God's throne: nor by the earth; for it is his foot-

stool: neither by Jerusalem; for it is the city of the
great King.
7. Neither shalt thou swear by thy head, because
thou canst not make one hair white or black. But let
your communication be, Yea, yea; Nay, nay: for
whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil.
 FOURTH READER. 205

Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye

8.

for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: but I say unto

you, That ye resist not evil; but whosoever shall
smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other
also. And if any man will sue thee at the law, and
take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also.
And whosoever compel thee to go a mile, go
shall
with him twain. Give to him that asketh thee, and
from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou
away.
9. Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt
love thy neighbor and hate thine enemy: but I say
unto you, Love your enemies; bless them that curse
you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for
them which you and persecute you;
despitefully use
that ye may be the children of your Father which is
in heaven for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil
:

and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on

the unjust.
10. For if ye love them which love you, what
reward have ye? do not even the publicans the same?
And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more
than others? do not even the publicans so? Be ye,
therefore, perfect, even as your Father which is in
heaven is perfect. * * *
11. Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with
what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and
with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to
you again. And why beh oldest thou the mote that is
in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam
that is in thine own eye?
12. Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me
pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a
beam is in thine own eye? Thou hypocrite, first cast
206 ECLECTIC SERIES.

out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt
thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy
brother's eye. * * *
13. Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye
shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you:
for every one receiveth; and he that
that asketh,
seeketh, and to him that knocketh, it shall
findeth;
be opened. Or what man is there of you, whom if
his son ask bread, will he give him a stone? Or if he
ask a fish, will he give him a serpent?
14. If ye then, being evil, know how to give good
gifts unto your children, how much more shall your

Father which is in heaven give good things to them

that ask him? Therefore all things whatsoever ye
would that men should do to you, do ye even so to
them; for this is the law and the prophets. * * *
15. Whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and
doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which
built his house upon a rock: and the rain descended,
and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat
upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded
upon a rock.
16. And every one that heareth these sayings of
mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a
foolish man, which built his house upon the sand:
and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the
winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell:
and great was the fall of it.
17. And it came to pass, when Jesus had ended
these sayings, the people were astonished at his doc-
trine: for he taught them as one having authority,
and not as the scribes.

Definitions. — 1. Dis-^i'ple, one who receives instruction from

another. 2. BIGss'ed, happy. In-hSr'it, to come into possession of.
 FOURTH READER. 207

5. Ke-vile', to speak against without cause. PeVse-cute, to punish

on account of religion. 6. For-swear', to swear falsely. 9. De-
splte'ful-ly, maliciously, cruelly. 10. Pub'li-cangs, tax collectors

(they were often oppressive and were hated by the Jews). 11.
Mete, to measure. Mote, a small particle. 12. a
Hyp'o-erlte,
false pretender. 17. Scribes, men among the Jews who read and
explained the law to the people.

Exercises. — Who delivered this sermon? Who are blessed?

and why? Is it right to swear? How
should we treat our
enemies? Should we judge others harshly? What does Jesus
say ofhim who finds faults in his neighbor, but does not see his
own ? What is said about prayer ? About our conduct to others ?

LXXIV. THE YOUNG WITNESS.

By B. H. Hammond.

1. A
little girl nine years of age was brought
and offered as a witness against a prisoner
into court,
who was on trial for a crime committed in her
father's house.
2. "Now, Emily/' said the counsel for the prisoner,
"I wish to know if you understand the nature of an
oath?"
3. "I don't know what you mean," was the simple
answer.
4. "Your Honor," said the counsel, addressing the
judge, "it is evident that this witness should be re-
jected. She does not understand the nature of an
oath."
5. "Let us see," said the judge. "Come here, my
daughter."
6. Assured by the kind tone and manner of the
judge, the child stepped toward him, and looked con-
208 ECLECTIC SERIES.

fidingly in his face, with a calm, clear eye, and in a

manner so artless and frank that it went straight to
the heart.
7. "Did you ever take an oath?" inquired the
judge.
8. The little girl stepped back with a look of
horror; and the red blood rose and spread in a blush
all over her face and neck, as she answered, "No,
sir." She thought he intended to ask if she had ever
used profane language.
9. " I do not mean that," said the judge, who saw

her mistake ; " I mean were you ever a witness ? "

10. "No, sir; I never was in court before," was the
answer.
11. He handed her the Bible open. "Do you know
that book, my daughter?"
12. She looked at it and answered, "Yes, sir; it is
the Bible."
13. "Do you ever read in it?" he asked,
14. "Yes, sir; every evening."
15. "Can you tell me what the Bible is?" inquired
the judge.
16. "It is the word of the great God," she an-
swered.
17. "Well," said the judge, "place your hand upon
this Bible, and listen to what I say;" and he repeated
slowly and solemnly the following oath: "Do you
swear that in the evidence which you shall give in
this case, you will tell the truth, and nothing but the
truth; and that you will ask God to help you?"
18. "I do," she replied.
19. "Now," said the judge, "you have been sworn
as a witness; will you tell me what will befall you if"

you do not tell the truth?"

 FOURTH READER. 209

20. "I shall be shut up in the state-prison," an-

swered the child.
21. "Any thing else?" asked the judge.
22. "I shall never go to heaven," she replied.
23. "How do you know this?" asked the judge
again.
24. The child took the Bible, turned rapidly to the
chapter containing the commandments, and, pointing to
the one which reads, "Thou shalt not bear false wit-
ness against thy neighbor," said, " I learned that be-
fore I could read."
25. "Has any one talked with you about being a
witness in court here against this man?" inquired the
judge.
26. " Yes, sir," she replied, " my mother heard they
wanted me to be a witness; and last night she called
me to her room, and asked me to tell her the Ten
Commandments; and then we kneeled down together,
and she prayed that I might understand how wicked
it was to bear false witness against my neighbor, and
that God would help me, a little child, to tell the
truth as was before him.
it

27. "And when I came up here with father, she

kissed me, and told me to remember the Ninth Com-
mandment, and that God would hear every word that
I said."
28. "Do you believe this?" asked the judge, while
a tear glistened in his eye, and his lip quivered with
emotion.
29. "Yes, sir," said the child, with a voice and
manner which showed that her conviction of the truth
was perfect.
30. "God bless you, my child," said the judge,
"you have a good mother. The witness is compe-
(4.-14.)
210 ECLECTIC SERIES.

tent,"he continued. "Were I on trial for my life,

and innocent of the charge against me, I would pray
God for such a witness as this. Let her be exam-
ined."
31. She told her story with the simplicity of a
child, as she was; but her voice and manner carried
conviction of her truthfulness to every heart.
32. The lawyers asked her many perplexing ques-
tions, but she did not vary in the least from her first
statement.
33. The truth, as spoken by a little child, .was sub-
lime. Falsehood and perjury had preceded her testi-

mony; but before her testimony, falsehood was scat-

tered like chaff.
34. The little child, for whom a mother had prayed
for strength to be given her to speak the truth as it

was before God, broke the cunning device of matured

villainy to pieces, like a potter's vessel. The strength
that her mother prayed for was given her; and the
sublime and terrible simplicity,— terrible to the pris-
oner and his associates, —was like a revelation from
God himself.

—
Definitions. 1. Wit'ness, one who gives testimony. Com-
mitted, done, performed. 2. Coun'sel, a lawyer. 4. Re-ject'ed,
refused. 6. As-sured', made bold. Con-fid'ing-ly, with trust.

8. Pro-fane 7 ,
irreverent, taking the name of God in vain. 33.
Per'ju-ry, the act of willfully making a false oath. Chaff, the light
dry husk of grains or grasses. 34. Ma-tured', perfected, fully devel-
/
oped. P6t ter, one whose occupation is to make earthen vessels. Rev-
e-la/tion, the act of disclosing or showing what was before unknown.

—
Exercises. What is this story about? Why did the coun-
sel wish to have Emily, refused as a witness? Was she a fit
person to be a witness? How was this shown? Which com-
mandment forbids us to bear false witness? What was the re-
sult of Emily's testimony?
 FOURTH READER. 211

LXXV. KING SOLOMON AND THE ANTS.

By John Greenleaf Whittier, born near Haverhill, Mass., in 1807.
Until he was eighteen years old he worked on the farm, and during
that time learned the trade of a shoemaker. He afterwards became an
editor, and now ranks with the first poets of America.

1. Out from Jerusalem

The king rode with his great
War chiefs and lords of state,
And Sheba's queen with them.

2. Proud in the Syrian sun,

In gold and purple sheen,
The dusky Ethiop queen
Smiled on King Solomon.

3. Wisest of men, he knew

The languages of all
The creatures great or small
That trod the earth or flew.

4. Across an ant-hill led

The king's path, and he heard
Its small folk, and their word
He thus interpreted:

5. "Here comes the king men greet

As wise and good and just,
To crush us in the dust
Under his heedless feet."

6. The great king bowed his head.

And saw the wide surprise
Of the Queen of Sheba's eyes
As he told her what they said.
212 ECLECTIC SERIES.

7. "O king!" she whispered sweet,

"Too happy fate have they

Who perish in thy way

Beneath thy gracious feet!

8. " Thou of the God-lent crown,

Shall these vile creatures dare
Murmur against thee where
The knees of kings kneel down?"

9. "Nay," Solomon replied,

"The wise and strong should seek
The welfare of the weak;"
And turned his horse aside.

10. His train, with quick alarm,

Curved with their leader round
The ant-hill's peopled mound,
And left it free from harm.

11. The jeweled head bent low;

"O king!" she said, "henceforth
The worth
secret of thy
And wisdom well I know.

12. "Happy must be the State

Whose ruler heedeth more
The murmurs of the poor
Than flatteries of the great."

Definitions. — 4. Iri-ter'pret-ed, explained the meaning of. 5.

Greet, address, salute. 9. Welfare, happiness. 10. Train, a body

/
of followers. 12. Flat ter-ie§, praises for the purpose of gratifying
vanity or gaining favor.
 FOURTH READER. 213

LXXVI. RIVERMOUTH THEATER.

From "The Story of a Bad Boy," by Thomas Bailey Aldrich. The

author was born at Portsmouth, N. H., in 1836. When quite young
his family moved to Louisiana, but he was sent back to New England
to be educated, and later he located at New York. He is a well-known
writer of both prose and poetry.

1. "Now, boys, what shall we do?" I asked, ad-

dressing a thoughtful conclave of seven, assembled in
our barn one dismal, rainy afternoon. "Let's have a
theater," suggestedBinny Wallace.
2. The very thing! But where? The loft of the
stable was ready to burst with hay provided for
Gypsy, but the long room over the carriage-house was
unoccupied. The place of all places! My managerial
eye saw at a glance its capabilities for a theater.
3. I had been to the play a great many times in

New Orleans, and was wise in matters pertaining to

the drama. So here, in due time, was set up some ex-
traordinary scenery of my own painting. The curtain,
I recollect, though it worked smoothly enough on
other occasions, invariably hitched during the perform-
ances.
4. The theater, however, was a success, as far as it

went. I retired from the business with no fewer than

fifteen hundred pins, after deducting the headless, the
pointless, and the crooked pins with which our door-
keeper frequently got "stuck." From first to lastwe
took in a great deal of this counterfeit money. The
price of admission to the "Rivermouth Theater" was
twenty pins. I played all the principal characters
myself, —not that I was a finer actor than the other
boys, but because I owned the establishment.
5. At the tenth representation, my dramatic career
214 ECLECTIC SERIES.

was brought to a close by an unfortunate circumstance.

We were playing the drama of "William Tell, the
Hero of Switzerland." Of course I was William Tell,
in spite of Fred Langdon, who wanted to act that
character himself. I wouldn't let him, so he with-
drew from the company, taking the only bow and
arrow we had.
6. I made a cross-bow out of a piece of whalebone,
and did very well without him. We had reached that
exciting scene where Gesler, the Austrian tyrant,
commands Tell to shoot the apple from his son's
head. Pepper Whitcomb, who played all the juvenile
and women parts, was my son.
7. To guard against mischance, a piece of paste-
board was fastened by a handkerchief over the upper
portion of Whitcomb's face, while the arrow to be
used was sewed up in a strip of flannel. I was a cap-
ital marksman, and the big apple, only two yards dis-

tant, turned its russet cheek fairly towards me.

8. I can see poor little Pepper now, as he stood

without flinching, waiting for me to perform my great

feat. I raised the cross-bow amid the breathless
silence of the crowded audience —
consisting of seven
boys and three girls, exclusive of Kitty Collins, who
insisted on paying her way in with a clothes-pin.
I raised the cross-bow, I repeat. Twang! went the
whip-cord; but, alas! instead of hitting the apple, the
arrow flew right into Pepper Whitcomb's mouth, which
happened to be open at the time, and destroyed my
aim.
9. I shall never be able to banish that awful mo-
ment from my memory. Pepper's roar, expressive of
astonishment, indignation, and pain, is still ringing in
my ears. I looked upon him as a corpse, and, glanc-
 FOURTH READER. 215

ing not far into the dreary future, pictured myself led
forth to execution in the presence of the very same
spectators then assembled.
10. Luckily, poor Pepper was not seriously hurt;
but Grandfather Nutter, appearing in the midst of the
confusion (attracted by the howls of young Tell), is-
sued an injunction against all theatricals thereafter,
and the place was closed; not, however, without a
farewell speech from me, in which I said that this

I would have been the proudest moment of my life if I

I hadn't hit Pepper Whitcomb in the mouth. Where-
1 upon the audience (assisted, I am glad to state, by
1 Pepper) cried, "Hear! hear!"
11. I then attributed the accident to Pepper him-
1 self, whose mouth, being open at the instant I fired,

acted upon the arrow much after the fashion of a

I
whirlpool, and drew in the fatal shaft. I was about
to explain how a comparatively small maelstrom could
I

|
suck in the largest ship, when the curtain fell of its
own accord, amid the shouts of the audience.
216 ECLECTIC SERIES.

12. This was my last appearance on any stage. It

was some time, though, before I heard the end of the
William Tell business. Malicious little boys who
had n't been allowed to buy tickets to my theater used
to cry out after me in the street, —"'Who killed Cools
Robin?'"

Definitions. — 1. CSn'elave, a private meeting. 2. Man-a-ge'-

ri-al, of or pertaining to a manager. 4. De-duet'ing, taking away,
subtracting. 5. Ca-reer', course of action. 8. Au'di-ence, an as-
sembly of hearers. 9. Ex-e-eu'tion, a putting to death by law. 10.
In-june'tion,a command. 11. At-trib'ut-ed, assigned, charged,
Mael'strom (pro. maFstrum), a whirlpool.

Note. —The Eevised Fifth Reader of this Series contains tho

portion of William Tell probably alluded to. See McGuffey's
Fifth Eeader, pp. 207-216.

LXXVII. ALFRED THE GREAT.

1. More than a thousand years ago, (in the year

849), a prince was born in England, who afterwards
became one of the most celebrated and best loved
kings in the world. His name was Alfred afterwards —
—
called Alfred the Great and he was the favorite son
both of the king and queen.
2. In those days the common people were very
ignorant few of them could even read and write.
;

There were no schools, and the monasteries, where

almost the only teaching had been done, were nearly
all destroyed in the wars which were continually go-

ing on. Only the higher classes had any chance -to
study, and even they paid much more attention to
fighting than to studying.
 FOURTH READER. 217

But Alfred was different from most persons of

3.

his Even when a little boy, he delighted in

time.
listening to poems and to the ballads which harpers
used to sing, and he learned many of them by heart.
When he was twelve years old, his mother, the queen,
offered to give a volume of poems to that one of her
four sons who would first learn to read it. Alfred
was the youngest of them all, yet he easily won the
prize of which his brothers thought so little.
4. But, as has been said, these were stirring times,

and Alfred was soon called on to show his great abili-

ties as a soldier. The Danes, a warlike people, were
continually swooping down in their vessels upon the
coast of England. Often they spread over the entire
country, plundering and burning the towns, and kill-
ing the people.
In the midst of these invasions Alfred became
5.

king, when he was only twenty-two years old. He

proved as good a warrior as he was a student. He
thought that whatever is worth doing at all is worth
doing well. He was generally successful against the
Danes, but at one time they seemed to have the
country entirely in their power, and Alfred was com-
pelled to hide for his life.

6. For some time he dressed as a peasant, and lived

in the cottage of a cow-herd, who was so careful of
his king's safety that he did not even tell his wife
who he So she treated the king as a common
was.
peasant, and one day gave him a sharp scolding be-
cause he allowed some -cakes to burn on the griddle,
after she had left him to watch them. She told him
he was clever enough at eating cakes though he man-
aged so badly at baking them.
7. When the search for him grew less active,
218 ECLECTIC SERIES.

Alfred gradually collected some of his followers, with

whom he encamped on a small spot of firm ground in
the center of a bog. It was surrounded by almost
impassable forests, and Alfred fortified the place so
that it could not well be taken. Then he made fre-
quent sudden and successful attacks on the enemy
until his troops and the people became encouraged.
8. One victory in particular, when they captured a
banner which the Danes thought enchanted, led
Alfred to take bolder steps. He wished to find out
the exact condition of -the enemy, and, for this pur-
pose, disguised himself as a harper and entered their
camp. He
was so successful in his disguise that he
remained there some days, even being admitted to the
tent of the Danish leader Guthrum.
9. He found their entire army living in careless se-

curity, and so he determined to make a sudden and

bold attack on them, to try and rid his country once
more of these cruel invaders. He summoned his peo-
ple about him from far and wide. Many of them had
long thought their beloved king dead, but now all
eagerly obeyed his call.
10. He at once led them against that part of the
camp which he had seen to be most unguarded. The
attack was entirely unexpected; and, although the
Danes were greater in numbers, they were defeated
with great slaughter. Some of them, with their
leader, fled to a fortified place, but were soon obliged
to surrender.
11. Alfred them their lives, and
granted settled
them kingdom where nearly
in a part of his all his
own people had been destroyed. He hoped by this to
change obstinate enemies into useful friends who would
protect England from further attacks of their own
 FOURTH READER. 219

countrymen. However, some years later, when the

Danes made another invasion, these people joined
them in fighting against Alfred, but he soon succeeded
in driving them all out of the country.
12. Much as Alfred did for his people in war, he
did more in time of peace. Above all else he gave
careful attention to their education. He rebuilt the
monasteries and aided the young University of Ox-
ford. He also founded many schools, to which every
owner of a certain portion of land was compelled to
send his children.
But he did as much good by the example that
13.
he as by these acts.
set His time was divided into
three parts. One was given to business, one to re-
freshment by sleep and food, and the third to study
and devotion. Clocks and watches, and probably even
sun-dials, were then unknown, so these divisions were
marked by burning candles of equal lengths.
14. Alfred did not study for his own pleasure
merely, but translated and wrote many works for the
good of his people, using the simple language which
they could easily understand and enjoy. His person
was handsome and dignified, full of grace and activ-
ity. But the more noble beauty was within, in the
enlightened mind and virtuous heart of the king.
After his name, which has its place on an ancient
record of English kings, is written the noble title of
"Truth-teller."

Definitions. — 2. MSn'as-ter-y, a religious house where monks

live. 5. In-va'gion, the warlike entranceof an army. 8. Dis-
guised', hidden by an unusual dress and appearance. 12. U-ni-
ver'si-ty, a school of the highest grade, in which are taught all
branches of learning. 14. Trans-lat/ed, changed from one language
to another. En-llght'ened, well-informed.
 —
220 ECLECTIC SERIES.

LXXVIH. LIVING ON A FARM.

1. How brightly through the mist of years,

My quiet country home appears!
My father busy all the day
In plowing corn or raking hay;
My mother moving with delight
Among the milk-pans, silver-bright;
We children, just from school set free,
Filling the garden with our glee.
The blood of life was flowing warm
When I was living on a farm.

2. I hear the sweet church-going bell,

As o'er the fields its music fell,

I see the country neighbors round

Gathering beneath the pleasant sound;
They stop awhile beside the door,
To talk their homely matters o'er
The springing corn, the ripening grain,
And "how we need a little- rain ;"
"A sun would do no harm,
little

We want good weather for the farm."

3. When autumn came, what joy to see

The gathering of the husking-bee,
To hear the voices keeping tune,
Of girls and boys beneath the moon,
To mark the golden corn-ears bright,
More golden in the yellow light!
Since I have learned the ways of men,
I often turn to these again,
And feel life wore its highest charm
When I was living on the farm.
 FOURTH READER. 221

LXXIX. HUGH IDLE AND MR. TOIL.

Adapted from the story of "Little Daffydowndilly," by Nathaniel

Hawthorne. The author was born at Salem, Mass., in 1804, and ranks
among the first of American novelists.

1. Hugh Idle loved to do only what was agree-

able, and took no delight in labor of any kind. But
while Hugh was yet a little boy, he was sent away
from home, and put under the care of a very strict
school-master, who went by the name of Mr. Toil.
2. Those who knew him best, affirmed that Mr.
Toil was a very worthy character, and that he had
done more good, both to children and grown people,
than any body else in the world. He had, however,
a severe and ugly countenance; his voice was harsh;
and all his ways and customs were disagreeable to our
young friend, Hugh Idle.
3. The whole day long this terrible old school-
master stalked about among his scholars, with a big
cane in his hand; and unless a lad chose to attend
had no chance
constantly and quietly to his book, he
of enjoying a single quiet moment."This will never
do for me," thought Hugh; "I'll run off, and try to
find my way home."
4. So the very next niDrning off he started, with
only some bread and cheese for his breakfast, and
very little pocket-money to pay his expenses. He
had gone but a short distance, when he overtook a
man of grave and sedate appearance trudging at a
moderate pace along the road.
5. "Good morning, my fine lad!" said the stranger;
and seemed hard and severe, yet had a sort
his voice
of kindness in it; "whence do you come so early, and
whither are you going?"
 "

222 ECLECTIC SERIES.

6. Now Hugh was a boy of very frank disposition,

and had never been known to tell a lie in all his life.
Nor did he tell one now, but confessed that he had
run away from school on account of his great dislike
to Mr. Toil. "Oh, very well, my little friend!" an-
swered the stranger; "then we will go together; for I
likewise have had a good deal to do with Mr. Toil,
and should be glad to find some place where he was
never heard of." So they walked on very sociably
side by side.
7. By and by their road led them past a field,
where some hay-makers were at work. Hugh could
not help thinking how much pleasanter it must be to
make hay in the sunshine, under the blue sky, than
to learn lessons all day long, shut up in a dismal
school-room, continually watched by Mr. Toil.
8. But in the midst of these thoughts, while he was

stopping to peep over the stone wall, he started back and

caught hold of his companion's hand. " Quick, quick !

cried he; "let us run away, or he will catch us!"

9. "Who will catch us?" asked the stranger.
10. "Mr. Toil, the old school-master," answered
Hugh; "don't you see him among the hay-makers?"
and Hugh pointed to an elderly man, who seemed to
be the owner of the field.

11. He was busily at work in his shirt sleeves.

The drops of sweat stood upon his brow; and he kept
constantly crying out to his work-people to make hay
while the sun shone. Strange to say, the features of
the old farmer were precisely the same as those of
Mr. Toil, who at that very moment must have been
just entering the school-room.
12. "Don't be afraid," said the stranger; "this is

not Mr. Toil, the school-master, but a brother of his,

 FOURTH READER. 223

who was bred a farmer. He won't trouble you, unless

you become a laborer on his farm."
13. Hugh believed what his companion said, but
was glad when they were out of sight of the old
farmer who bore such a singular resemblance to Mr.
Toil. The two travelers came to a spot where some
carpenters were building a house. Hugh begged his
companion to stop awhile, for it was a pretty sight to
see how neatly the carpenters did their work with
their saws, planes,and hammers; and he was begin-
ning to think he too should like to use the saw, and
the plane, and the hammer, and be a carpenter him-
self. But suddenly he caught sight of something that
made him seize his friend's hand, in a great fright.
14. "Make haste! quick, quick!" cried he; "there's
old Mr. Toil again." The stranger cast his eyes where
Hugh pointed his finger, and saw an elderly man, who
seemed to be overseeing the carpenters, as he went to
and fro about the unfinished house, marking out the
work to be done, and urging the men to be diligent;
and wherever he turned his hard and wrinkled visage,
they sawed and hammered as if for dear life.

15. "Oh, no! this is not Mr. Toil, the school-

master," said the stranger; "it is another brother of
his who follows the trade of carpenter."
16. "I am very glad to hear it," quoth Hugh;
"but if you please, sir, I should like to get out of

his way as soon as possible."

Definitions. — 1. A-greeVble, pleasing. 2. Af-f irmed', declared.

4. Ex-pens'e§, costs. Se-date', calm. MM'er-ate, neither fast nor
/
slow. 6. Dis-po-§i tion, natural state of mind. Con-fessed', ac-
knotvledged. So'cia-bly, in a friendly way. 11. Features, the dis-

tinctive marks of the face. 13. Re-gem'blaiKje, likeness. 14. Dili-

gent, industrious. Visage, the face. 16. Qu5th, said.
224 ECLECTIC SERIES.

LXXX. HUGH IDLE AND MR. TOIL.

(Concluded.)

1. Now Hughand the stranger had not gone much

further, a company of soldiers, gayly
when they met
dressed, with feathers in their caps, and glittering
muskets on their shoulders. In front marched the
drummers and fifers, making such merry music that
Hugh would gladly have followed them to the end of
the world. If he were only a. soldier, he said to him-
self,, old Mr. Toil would never venture to look him

in the face.
2. "Quick step! forward! march!" shouted a gruff
voice.
3. Little Hugh started in great dismay; for this
voice sounded precisely like that which he had heard
every day in Mr. Toil's school-room. And turning
his eyes to the captain of the company, what should
he see but the very image of old Mr. Toil himself, in
an officer's dress, to be sure, but looking as ugly and
disagreeable as ever.
4. "This is certainly old Mr. Toil," said Hugh, in
a trembling voice. "Let us away, for fear he should
make us enlist in his company."
5. "You are mistaken again, my little friend," re-
plied the stranger very composedly. "This is only a
brother of Mr. Toil's, who has served in the army all

his life. You and I need not be afraid of him."

6. "Well, well," said Hugh, "if you please, sir, I
don't want to see the soldiers any more." So the
child and the stranger resumed their journey and, ;

after awhile, they came to a house by the road-side,

where a number of young men and rosy-cheeked girls,
 FOURTH READER. 225

with smiles on their faces, were dancing to the sound

of a fiddle.
7. "Oh, let us stop here," cried Hugh; "Mr. Toil
will never dare to show his face where there is a
fiddler, and where people are dancing and making
merry."
8. But the words had scarcely died away on the
little boy's tongue, when, happening to cast his eyes
on the fiddler, whom should he behold again but the
likeness of Mr. Toil, armed with a fiddle-bow this
time, and flourishing it with as much ease and dexter-
ity as if he had been a fiddler all his life.
9. " Oh, dear me !
" whispered he, turning pale ; " it

seems as if there were nobody but Mr. Toil in the

world."
10. "This is not your old school-master," observed
the stranger, "but another brother of his, who has
learned to be a fiddler. He is ashamed of his family,
and generally calls himself Master Pleasure; but his
real name is Toil, and those who know him best think
him still more disagreeable than his brothers."
11. "Pray, let us go on," said Hugh.
12. Well, thus the two went wandering along the
highway and in shady lanes and through pleasant
villages, and wherever they went, behold there was !

the image of old Mr. Toil. If they entered a house,

he sat in the parlor; if they peeped into the kitchen,
he was there He made himself at home in every
!

cottage, and stole, under one disguise or another, into

the most splendid mansions. Every-where they stum-
bled on some of the old school-master's innumerable
brothers.
13. At length, little Hugh found himself completely
worn out with running away from Mr. Toil. " Take
(4.-15.)
226 ECLECTIC SERIES.

me back! take me back!" cried the poor fellow,

bursting into tears. "If there is nothing but Toil all
the world over, I may just as well go back to the
school-house."
14. "Yonder it is; there is the school-house!" said
the stranger; for though he and little Hugh had
taken a great many steps, they had traveled in a circle
instead of a straight line. "Come, we will go back to
the school together."
There was something in his companion's voice
15.
that Hugh now remembered; and it is strange
little

that he had not remembered it sooner. Looking up

into his face, behold there again was the likeness of
!

old Mr. Toil, so that the poor child had been in com-
pany with Toil all day, even while he had been doing
his best to run away from him.
16. Little Hugh Idle, however, had learned a good
lesson, and from that time forward was diligent at his
task, because he now knew that diligence is not a
whit more toilsome than sport or idleness. And when
he became better acquainted with Mr. Toil, he began
to think his ways were not so disagreeable, and that
the old school-master's smile of approbation made his
face sometimes appear almost as pleasant as-even that
of Hugh's mother.

Definitions. — 1. Vent'iire, to dare, to risk 3. Dis-may',

fright, terror. Pre-cise'ly, exactly. 4. En-list', to put one's name
on a roll, to join. 5. Com-pos/ed-ly, calmly, quietly. 6. Re-
sumed', recommenced. 10. Ob-§erved / remarked.
, 12. In-nu'mer-
a-ble, not to be counted. 16. Ap-pro-ba/tion, the act of regarding
with pleasure.

—
Exercises. To whose school was Hugh Idle sent? Why did
lie run away? Eelate the adventures of Hugh and the stran-
ger. What lesson is taught by this story?
 FOURTH READER. 227

LXXXI. BURNING THE FALLOW.

Adapted from " Roughing it in the Bush," a story by Mrs. Susanna

Moodie (sister of Agnes Strickland), relating her adventures in the back-
woods of Canada. The book was first published in 1852.

1. The day was sultry, and towards noon a strong

wind sprang up that roared in the pine tops like the
dashing of distant billows, but without in the least
degree abating the heat. The children were lying
listlessly upon the floor, and the girl and I were fin-
ishing sun-bonnets, when Mary suddenly exclaimed,
"Bless us, mistress, what a smoke!"
2. I ran immediately to the door, but was not able
to distinguish ten yards before me. The swamp im-
mediately below us was on and the heavy wind
fire,

was driving a dense black cloud of smoke directly

towards us.

3. "What can this mean?" I cried. "Who can

have set fire to the fallow?" As I ceased speaking,
John Thomas stood pale and trembling before me.
"John, what is the meaning of this fire?"
4. "Oh, ma'am, I hope you will forgive me; it was

I set fire to it, and I would give all I have in the

world if I had not done it."
5. "What is the danger?"

6. "Oh, I'm afraid that we shall all be burnt up,"

said John, beginning to whimper. "What shall we

do?"
7. "Why, we must get out of it as fast as we can,

and leave the house to its fate."

8. "We man, in a low, hol-
can't get out," said the
low tone, which seemed the concentration of fear; "I
228 ECLECTIC SERIES.

would have got out of it if I could; but just step to

the back door, ma'am, and see."
9. Behind, before, on every side, we were sur-
rounded by a wall of fire, burning furiously within a
hundred yards of us, and cutting off all possibility of
retreat; for, could we have found an opening through
the burning heaps, we could not have seen our way
through the dense canopy of smoke and, buried as ;

we were in the heart of the forest, no one could dis-

cover our situation till we were beyond the reach of
help.
10. I closed the door, and went back to the parlor.
Fear was knocking loudly at my heart, for our utter
helplessness destroyed all hope of our being able to
elfect our escape. The girl sat upon the floor by the
children,who, unconscious of the peril that hung over
them, had both fallen asleep. She was silently weep-
ing; while the boy who had caused the mischief was
crying aloud.
11. A strange calm succeeded my first alarm. I sat
down upon the step of the door, and watched the
awful scene in silence. The fire was raging in the
cedar swamp immediately below the ridge on which
the house stood, and it presented a spectacle truly
appalling.
12. From out of the dense folds of a canopy of
black smoke —the blackest I ever saw — leaped up red
forks of lurid flame as high as the tree tops, igniting
the branches of a group of tall pines that had been
left for saw-logs. A deep gloom blotted out the heav-
ens from our sight. The air was filled with fiery par-
ticles,which floated even to the door-step while the —
crackling and roaring of the flames might have been
heard at a great distance.
 FOURTH READER. 229

13. To reach the shore of the lake, we must pass

through the burning swamp, and not a bird could
pass over it with unscorched wings. The fierce wind
drove the flames at the sides and back of the house
up the clearing; and our passage to the road or to the
forest, on the right and left, was entirely obstructed
by a sea of flames. Our only ark of safety was the
house, so long as it remained untouched by the fire.
14. I turned to young Thomas, and asked him how
long he thought that would be. "When the fire
clears this little ridge in front, ma'am. The Lord
have mercy on us then, or we must all go."
15. I threw myself down on the floor beside my
children, and pressed them to my heart, while inwardly
I thanked God that they were asleep, unconscious of
danger, and unable by their cries to distract our atten-
tion from adopting any plan which might offer to
effect their escape.

16. The heat soon becamesuffocating. We were

parched with and there was not a drop of
thirst,

water in the house, and none to be procured nearer

than the lake. I turned once more to the door, hop-
ing that a passage might have been burnt through to
the water. I saw nothing but a dense cloud of fire
—
and smoke could hear nothing but the crackling and
roaring of flames, which were gaining so fast upon us
that I felt their scorching breath in my face.

17. —
"Ah," thought I and it was a most bitter
—
thought "what will my beloved husband say when
he returns and finds that his poor wife and his dear
girls have perished in this miserable manner? But
God can save us yet."
18. The thought had scarcely found a voice in my
heart before the wind rose to a hurricane, scattering
230 ECLECTIC SERIES.

the flames on all sides into a tempest of burning bil-

lows. I buried my head in my apron, for I thought
that all was lost, when a most terrific crash of thun-
der burst over our heads, and, like the breaking of a
water-spout, down came the rushing torrent of rain
which had been pent up for so many weeks.
19. In a few minutes the chip-yard was all afloat,

and the fire effectually checked. The storm which, un-

noticed by us, had been gathering all day, and which
was the only one of any note we had that summer,
continued to rage all night, and before morning had
quite subdued the cruel enemy whose approach we
had viewed with such dread.

Definitions. — 1. A-bat'ing, lessening. List'less-ly, not paying

attention, heedlessly. Fallow, a new clearing usually covered with
3.

brush heaps. 8. Con-cen-tra'tion, bringing into a small space, the

essence. 9. Car/o-py, a covering or curtain. 10. Ef-fSet', to bring

to pass. 11. Sue-ceed'ed, followed. Ap-pall'ing, terrifying. 12.
Lu'rid, dull red. Ig-nlt'ing, setting on fire. 15. Dis-tr&et/, con-
fuse, perplex. 16. Parched, made very dry. 18. Wa'ter-spout, a
column of water caught up by a whirlwind.

LXXXII. THE DYING SOLDIERS.

1, A waste of land, a sodden plain,

A lurid sunset sky,
With clouds that fled and faded fast
In ghostly phantasy;
A field upturned by trampling feet,
A field uppiled with slain,
With horse and rider blent in death
Upon the battle-plain.
 — —
FOURTH READER.
2. The dying and the dead lie low;
For them, no more shall rise
The evening moon, nor midnight stars,
Nor daylight's soft surprise:
They will not wake to tenderest call,
Nor see again each home,
Where waiting hearts shall throb and break,
When this day's tidings come.

3. Two soldiers, lying as they fell

Upon the reddened clay

In daytime, foes; at night, in peace
Breathing their lives away!
Brave hearts had stirred each manly breast;
Fate only, made them foes;
And lying, dying, side by side,

A softened feeling rose.

4. "Our time is short," one faint voice said;

" To-day we've done our best
On different sides: what matters now?
To-morrow we shall rest!
Life lies behind. I might not care
For only my own sake;
But far away are other hearts,
That this day's work will break.

5. "Among New Hampshire's snowy hills,

There pray for me to-night
A woman, and a little girl
With hair like golden light;"
And at the thought, broke forth, at last,
The cry of anguish wild,
That would not longer be repressed
"O God, my wife, my child!"
232 ECLECTIC SERIES.

6. "And," said the other dying man,

"Across the Georgia plain,
There watch and wait for me loved ones
I ne'er shall see again:
A little girl, with dark, bright eyes,
Each day waits at the door;
Her father's step, her father's kiss,
Will never greet her more.

7. "To-day we sought each other's lives:

Death levels all that now;
For soon before God's mercy-seat
Together we shall bow.
Forgive each other while we may;
Life's but a weary game,
And, right or wrong, the morning sun
Will find us, dead, the same."

8. The dying lips the pardon breathe;

The dying hands entwine;
The last ray fades, and over all
The stars from heaven shine;
And the little girl with golden hair,
And one with dark eyes bright,
On Hampshire's hills, and Georgia's plain,
Were fatherless that night!

Definitions. — 1. S6d / den, soaked. Phan'ta-sy, specter-like ap-

pearance. Blent, mingled together. 2. Tl'dingsjs, news. 5. An/-
guish, deep distress. Re-pressed', kept back. 8. Pardon, forgive-
ness. En-twine', clasp together.

Exercises. — "What
do the first two stanzas describe? What
does the third? What
did one soldier say to the other? Where
was his home? Whatfriends had he there? Where was the
home of the other soldier? Who waited for him? Did they
forgive each other?
 FOURTH READER. 233

LXXXIII. THE ATTACK ON NYMEGEN.

From "The History of the United Netherlands," by John L,otlirop
Motley. Mr. Motley was born in 1814, at Dorchester, Mass. He gradu-
ated at Harvard in 1831, and afterwards lived many years in Europe,
writing the histories which have made him famous.

1. On the evening of the 10th of August, 1589,

there was a wedding-feast in one of the splendid man-
sions of the stately city. The festivities were pro-
longed until deep in the midsummer's night, and harp
and viol were still inspiring the feet of the dancers,
when on a sudden, in the midst of the holiday-groups,
appeared the grim visage of Martin Schenk, the man
who never smiled.
2. Clad in no wedding garment, but in armor of
proof, with morion on head, and sword in hand, the
great freebooter strode heavily through the ball-room,
followed by a party of those terrible musketeers who
never gave or asked for quarter, while the affrighted
revelers flutteredaway before them.
3. Taking advantage of a dark night, he had just
dropped down the river from his castle, with five and
twenty barges, had landed with his most trusted soldiers
in the foremost vessels, had battered down the gate of
St. Anthony, and surprised and slain the guard.

4. Without waiting for the rest of his boats, he

had then stolen with his comrades through the silent

streets, and torn away the lattice-work, and other

slight defenses on the rear of the house which they

had now entered, and through which they intended to
possess themselves of the market-place.
5. Martin had long since selected this mansion as a
proper position for his enterprise, but he had not been
bidden to the wedding, and was somewhat disconcerted
234 ECLECTIC SERIES.

when he found himself on the festive scene which he

had so grimly interrupted.
6. Some of the merry-makers escaped from the

house, and proceeded to alarm the town; while Schenk

hastily fortified his position, and took possession of
the square. But the burghers and garrison were soon
on foot, and he was driven back into the house.
7. Three times he recovered the square by main
strength of his own arm, seconded by the handful of
 FOURTH READER. 235

men whom he had brought with him, and three times

he was beaten back by overwhelming numbers into
the wedding mansion.
8. The arrival of the greater part of his followers,
with whose assistance he could easily have mastered
the city in the first moments of surprise, was mysteri-
ously delayed. He could not account for their pro-
longed absence, and was meanwhile supported only by
those who had arrived with him in the foremost
barges.
9. The truth — of
which he was ignorant was, that —
the remainder of the flotilla, borne along by the strong

and deep current of the Waal, then in a state of

freshet, had shot past the landing-place, and had ever
since been vainly struggling against wind and tide to
force their way back to the necessary point.
10. Meantime Schenk and his followers fought des-
perately in the market-place, and desperately in the
house which he had seized. But a whole garrison,
and a town full of citizens in arms proved too much
for him, and he was now hotly besieged in the man-
sion, and at last driven forth into the streets.
11. By this time day was dawning, the whole popu-
lation, soldiers and burghers, men, women, and chil-
dren, were thronging about the little band of maraud-
ers, and assailing them with every weapon and every

missile to be found. Schenk fought with his usual

ferocity, but at last the musketeers, in spite of his in-
dignant commands, began rapidly to retreat toward
the quay.
12. In vain Martin stormed and cursed, in vain
with his own hand he struck more than one of his
soldiers dead. He was swept along with the panic-
stricken band, and when, shouting and gnashing his
236 ECLECTIC SERIES.

teeth with frenzy, he reached the quay at last, he saw

at a glance why his great enterprise had failed.

13. The few empty barges of his own party were

moored at the steps; the rest were half a mile off,
contending hopelessly against the swollen and rapid
Waal. Schenk, desperately wounded, was left almost
alone upon the wharf, for his routed followers had
plunged helter-skelter into the boats, several of which,
overladen in the panic, sank at once, leaving the sol-
diers to drown or struggle with the waves.
14. The game was lost. Nothing was left the free-
booter but retreat. Reluctantly turning his back on
his enemies, now in full cry close behind him, Schenk
sprang into the last remaining boat just pushing from
the quay. Already overladen, it foundered with his
additional weight, Martin Schenk, encumbered
and
with his heavy armor, sank at once to the bottom of
the Waal.
15. Some of the fugitives swimming
succeeded in
down the stream, and were picked up by their com-
rades in the barges below the town, and so made their
escape. Many were drowned with their captain. A
few days afterward, the inhabitants of Nymegen fished
up thebody of the famous partisan. He was easily
recognized by his armor, and by his truculent face,
still wearing the scowl with which he had last re-

buked his followers.

Definitions— 2. Mo'ri-on, a hind of helmet. Free'boot-er,

one who plunders. Miis-ket-eer', a soldier armed with a musket.
/
Quar'ter, mercy. 6. Burgh er§, inhabitants of a town. Gar'ri-son,
troops stationed in a fort or town. a fleet of small ves-
9. Flo-til'la,
sels. 11. Ma-raud'erg, plunderers. Quay (pro. ke), a wharf. 14.
Found'ered, sank. En-cum'bered, weighed down. 15. Par'ti-gan,
a commander of a body of roving troops. Tru'eu-lent, fierce.
 FOURTH READER. 237

LXXXIV. THE SEASONS.

I. SPRING.

H. G. Adams is an English writer. He has compiled two volumes of

poetical quotations, and is the author of several volumes of original
poems. The following is from the " Story of the Seasons."

A bursting into greenness;

A waking as from sleep;
A twitter and a warble
That make the pulses leap:
A watching, as in childhood,
For the flowers that, one by one,
Open their golden petals
To woo the fitful sun.
A gust, a flash, a gurgle,
A wish to shout and sing,
As, filled with hope and gladness,
We hail the vernal Spring.

II. SUMMER.

Now is the high-tide of the year,

And whatever of life hath ebbed away
Comes flooding back with a ripply cheer,
Into every bare inlet and creek and bay.
We may shut our eyes, but we can not help knowing
That skies are clear and grass is growing;
The breeze comes whispering in our ear,
That dandelions are blossoming near,
That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing,
That the river is bluer than the sky,
That the robin is plastering his house hard by;
And if the breeze kept the good news back
For other couriers we should not lack;
 ; : ! ; ; —
238 ECLECTIC SERIES.

We could guess it all by yon heifer's lowing,

And hark ! how clear bold chanticleer,
Warmed with the new wine of the year,
Tells all in his lusty crowing.
— Lowell.
III. AUTUMN.
Thomas Hood, author of the following selection, was born in 1798, at
London, where he was editor of the " London Magazine." He is best
known as a humorist, but some of his poems are full of tender feeling.

The autumn is old

The sear leaves are flying;
He hath gathered up gold
And now he is dying
Old age, begin sighing

The year's in the wane;

There is nothing adorning
The night has no eve,
And the day has no morning;
Cold winter gives warning.

IV. WINTER.

Charles T. Brooks translated the following selection from the original

by the German poet, Lud wig Holty. Mr. Brooks was born at Salem, Mass.,
in 1813. After graduation at Harvard he entered the ministry. He has
translated much from the German, both of poetry and prose.

Now no plumed throng

Charms the wood with song
Ice-bound trees are glittering;
Merry snow-birds, twittering,
Fondly strive to cheer
Scenes so cold and drear.
 —
FOURTH READER. 239

Winter, still I see

Many charms in thee,
Love thy chilly greeting,
Snow-storms fiercely beating,
And the dear delights
Of the long, long nights.

Definitions. — (I.) PeYal§, the colored leaves of flowers. Ver'-

nal, belonging to spring. (II.) Ebbed, flowed back, receded. Cou'-
rier {pro. koo'vi-er), a messenger. Lus'ty, strong, vigorous, health-
ful. (III.) Sear, dry, withered. Wane, decrease, decline.

LXXXV. BRAND YWINE FORD.

Bayard Taylor was born at Kennett Square, Perm., in 1825. He re-

ceived a limited school education, but at an early age displayed great
energy and talent. He was a great traveler, and a fluent, graceful writer,
both of prose and verse. Mr. Taylor held high official positions under
the government. The following selection is adapted from "The Story
of Kennett."

1. The black, dreary night, seemed interminable.

He could only guess, here and there, at a landmark,
and was forced to rely more upon Roger's instinct
of the road than upon the guidance of his senses.
Toward midnight, as he judged, by the solitary crow
of a cock, the rain almost entirely ceased.
2. The wind began to blow sharp and keen, and the
hard vault of the sky to lift a little. He fancied that
the hills on his right had fallen away, and that the
horizon was suddenly depressed towards the north.
Roger's began to splash in constantly deepening
feet

water, and presently a roar, distinct from that of the

wind, filled the air.
240 ECLECTIC SERIES.

3. was the Brandywine. The stream had over-

It
flowed broad meadow-bottoms, and was running
its

high and fierce beyond its main channel. The turbid

waters made a dim, dusky gleam around him soon ;

the fences disappeared, and the flood reached to his

horse's body.
4. But he knew that the ford could be distinguished

by the break in the fringe of timber; moreover, that

the creek bank was a little higher than the meadows
behind it, and so far, at least, he might venture. The
ford was not more than twenty yards across, and he
could trust Roger to swim that distance.
5. The faithful animal pressed bravely on, but Gil-

bert soon noticed that he seemed at fault. The swift

water had forced him out of the road, and he stopped
from time to time, as if anxious and uneasy. The
timber could now be discerned, only a short distance
in advance, and in a few minutes they would gain the
bank.
6. What was that? A strange, rustling, hissing
sound, as of cattle trampling through dry reeds, —a
sound which quivered and shook, even in the breath
of the hurrying wind !Roger snorted, stood still, and
trembled in every limb ; and a sensation of awe and
terror struck a chill through Gilbert's heart. The
sound drew swiftly nearer, and became a wild, seething
roar, filling the whole breadth of the valley.
7. "The dam! the dam!" cried Gilbert, "the dam

has. given way!" He turned Roger's head, gave him

the rein, struck, spurred, cheered, and shouted. The
brave beast struggled through the impeding flood, but
the advance wave of the coming inundation already
touched his side. He staggered a line of churning
;

foam bore down upon them, the terrible roar was all
 FOURTH READER. 241

around and over them, and horse and rider were

whirled away.
8. What happened during the first few seconds, Gil-

bert could never distinctly recall. Now they were

whelmed in the water, now riding its careering tide,
torn through the tops of brushwood, jostled by floating
logs and timbers of the dam, but always, as it seemed,
remorselessly held in the heart of the tumult and the
ruin.
9. He saw at last that they had fallen behind the
furious onset of the flood, butRoger was still swim-
ming with it, desperately throwing up his head from
time to time, and snorting the water from his nostrils.
All his efforts to gain a foothold failed ; his strength
Was nearly spent, and unless some help should come in
a few minutes it would come in vain. And in the
darkness, and the rapidity with which they were
borne along, how should help come?
10. All at once Roger's course stopped. He became
an obstacle to the flood, which pressed him against
some other obstacle below, and rushed over horse and
rider. Thrusting out his hand, Gilbert felt the rough
bark of a Leaning towards it, and clasping the
tree.

log in his arms, he drew himself from the saddle,

while Roger, freed from his burden, struggled into the
current and instantly disappeared.
11. As nearly as Gilbert could ascertain, several
timbers, thrown over each other, had lodged, probably
upon a rocky islet in the stream, the uppermost one
projecting slantingly out of the flood. It required all
his strength to resist the current which sucked, and
whirled, and tugged at his body, and to climb high
enough to escape its force, without overbalancing his
support. At last, though still half immerged, he
(4.-16.)
242 ECLECTIC SERIES.

found himself comparatively safe for a time, yet as

far as ever from a final rescue.
12. Yet a new clanger now assailed him, from the
increasing cold. There was already a sting of frost,
a breath of ice, In another hour the sky
in the wind.
was nearly swept bare of clouds, and he could note the
lapse of the night by the sinking of the moon. But
he was by this time hardly in a condition to note any
thing more.

Definitions. — 1. In-ter'mi-na-ble, endless. 2. De-pressed', low-

ered. 3. Tur'bid, muddy. 5. Dig-cerned' (pro. diz-zerned'), made

out, distinguished. 6. Seething, boiling, bubbling. 7. Im-ped'ing,
hindering, obstructing. In-un-da/tion, a flood. 9. On'set, a rush-
ing upon, attach. 11. Im-merged', plunged under a liquid. 12.

Lapse, a gradual passing away.

LXXXVI. BRANDYWINE FORD.

(Concluded.)

1. The moon was low in the west, and there was a

pale glimmer of the coming dawn in the sky, when
Gilbert Potter suddenly raised his head. Above the
noise of the water and the whistle of the wind, he
heard a familiar sound, —the shrill, sharp neigh of a
horse. Lifting himself with great exertion, to a sit-

ting posture, he saw two men, on horseback, in the

flooded meadow, a little below him. They stopped,
seemed to consult, and presently drew nearer.
2. Gilbert tried to shout, but the muscles of his
throat were stiff, and his lungs refused to act. The
horse neighed again. This time there was no mistake;
 FOURTH READER. 243

it was Roger that he heard ! Voice came to him, and

he cried aloud, —a hoarse, strange, unnatural cry.
The horsemen heard it, and rapidly pushed up the
bank, until they reached a point directly opposite to
him. The prospect of escape brought a thrill of life

to his frame; he looked around and saw that the flood

had indeed fallen.

3. "We have no rope," he heard one of the men

say. "How shall we reach him?"
" There is no time to get one now," the other an-
swered. " My horse is stronger than yours. I '11 go
into the creek just below, where it's broader and not
so deep, and work my way up to him."
" But one horse can't carry both."
"His will follow, be sure, when it sees me."
4. As the last speaker moved away, Gilbert saw. a
led-horse plunging through the water beside the other.
It was a difficult and dangerous undertaking. The
horseman and the loose horse entered the main stream
below, where its divided channel met and broadened,
but it was still above the saddle girths, and very swift.
5. Sometimes the animals plunged, losing their foot-

hold nevertheless, they gallantly breasted the current,

;

and inch by inch worked their way to a point about

six feet below Gilbert. It seemed impossible to ap-
proach nearer.
" Can you swim ?" asked the man.
Gilbert shook his head. " Throw me the end of
Roger's bridle!" he then cried.
6. The man unbuckled the bridle and threw it,

keeping the end of the rein in his hand. Gilbert tried

to grasp it, but his hands were too numb. He man-
aged, however, to get one arm and his head through
the opening, and relaxed his hold on the log.
244 ECLECTIC SERIES.

7. A plunge, and the man had him by the collar.

He felt himself lifted by a strong arm and laid across
Roger's saddle. With his failing strength and stiff

limbs, was no slight task to get into place and the

it ;

return, though less laborious to the horses, was equally

dangerous, because Gilbert was scarcely able to support
himself without help.
" You 're safe now," said the man, when they
reached the bank, "but it's a downright mercy of
God that you 're alive " !

8. The other horseman joined them, and they rode

slowly across the meadow.
flooded They had both
thrown their around Gilbert, and carefully
cloaks
steadied him in the saddle, one on each side. He was
too much exhausted to ask how they had found him,
or whither they were taking him, —too numb for curi-
osity, almost for gratitude.
9. " Here 's your savior " said one of the men, pat-
!

ting Roger's shoulder. " It was through him that we

found you. Do you wish to know how? Well —
about three o'clock it was, maybe a little earlier, may-
be a little later, my wife woke me up. 'Do you hear
that?' she said.
10. "I and heard a horse in the lane before
listened
the door, neighing, —
I can't tell you exactly how it
wag, —as though he would call up the house. It was
rather queer, I thought, so I got up and looked out
of the window, and it seemed to me he had a saddle
on. He stamped, and pawed, and then he gave
another neigh, and stamped again.
11. " Said I to my wife, There is something wrong
'

here,' and I dressed and went out. When he saw me,

he acted in the strangest way you ever saw; thought I,
if ever an animal wanted to speak, that animal does.
 FOURTH READER. 245

When I tried to catch him, he shot off, ran down the

lane a bit/ and then came back acting as strangely as
ever.
12. "I went into the house and woke up my brother,
here, and we saddled our horses and started. Away
went yours ahead, stopping every minute to look
around and see if we followed. When we came to the
water I rather hesitated, but it was of no use; the
horse would have us go on and on, till we found you.
I never heard of such a thing before, in all my life."

Gilbert did not speak, but two large tears slowly gath-
ered in his eyes, and rolled down his cheeks. The
men saw and respected it.
his emotion,
13. In the light of the cold, keen dawn, they reached
a snug farm-house, a mile from the Brandywine. The
men lifted Gilbert from the saddle, and would have
carried him immediately into the house, but he first
leaned upon Roger's neck, took the faithful creature's
head in his arms, and kissed it.

Definitions. — 2. Pros'peet, ground or reason for hoping, antic-

ipation. 5. Breast/ed {pro. brSst'ed), opposed courageously. 6.

Numb,, without the power of feeling or motion. Ke-laxed', loosened.

12. E-mo'tion, excited feeling, agitation.

LXXXVII. THE BEST CAPITAL.

L,ouisa May
Alcott was born at Germantown, Pa., and among other
works lias written many beautiful stories for children. During the Civil
War she was a hospital nurse at Washington. The following selection is
adapted from " Little Men."

1. One would have said that modest John Brooke,

in his busy, quiet, humble life, had had little time to
make friends; but now they seemed to start up every-
246 ECLECTIC SERIES.
where, — oldand young, rich and poor, high and low;
for all his influence had made itself
unconsciously
widely felt, his virtues w^ere remembered, and his hid-
den charities rose up to bless him.
2. The group about his coffin was a far more elo-

quent eulogy than any that man could utter. There

were the rich men whom he had served faithfully for
years; the poor old women whom he cherished with
his little store, in memory of his mother the wife to
;

whom he had given such happiness that death could

not mar it utterly; the brothers and sisters in whose
hearts he had made a place for ever; the little son
and daughter who already felt the loss of his strong
arm and tender voice; the young children, sobbing for
their kindest playmate, and the tall lads, watching
with softened faces a scene which they never could
forget.
3. That evening, as the Plumfield boys sat on the
steps, as usual, in the mild September moonlight, they
naturally fell to talking of the event of the day.
Emil began by breaking out in his impetuous way,
"Uncle Fritz is the wisest, and Uncle Laurie the j oili-
est, but Uncle John was the best; and I 'd rather be

like him than any man I ever saw."

4. " So would I. Did you hear what those gentle-
men said to Grandpa to-day? I would like to have
that said of me when I was dead;" and Franz felt
with regret that he had not appreciated Uncle John
enough.
" What did they say? " asked Jack, who had been

much impressed by the scenes of the day.

5. " Why, one of the partners of Mr. Laurence,
where Uncle John has been ever so long, was saying
that he was conscientious almost to a fault as a busi-
 FOURTH READER. 247

ness man, and above reproach in all things. Another

gentleman said no money could repay the fidelity and
honesty with which Uncle John had served him, and
then Grandpa told them the best of all.

6. "Uncle John once had a place in the office of a

man who cheated, and when this man wanted uncle to
help him do it, uncle wouldn't, though he was offered
a big salary. The man was angry, and said, '
You
will never get on in business with such strict princi-
ples;'and uncle answered back, 'I never will try to
get on without them/ and left the place for a much
harder and poorer one."
7. "Good!" cried several of the boys warmly, for

they were in the mood to understand and value the

little story as never before.
"He wasn't rich, was he?" asked Jack.
"No."
"He never did any thing to make a stir in the
world, did he?"
" No."
"Hewas only good?"
"That's all;" and Franz found himself washing
that Uncle John had done something to boast of, for
it was evident that Jack was disappointed by his re-

plies.

8. "Only good. That is all and every thing," said

Uncle Fritz, who had overheard the last few words,
and guessed what was going on in the minds of the
lads.
"Let me tell you a little about John Brooke, and
you will see why men honor him, and why he was sat-
isfied to be good rather than rich or famous. He sim-
ply did his duty in all things, and did it so cheerfully,
so faithfully, that it kept him patient, brave, and
248 ECLECTIC SERIES.

happy, through poverty and loneliness and years of

hard work.
9. "He was a good son, and gave up his own plans

to stay and live with his mother while she needed

him. He was a good friend, and taught your Uncle
Laurie much beside his Greek and Latin, did it un-
consciously, perhaps, by showing him an example of
an upright man.
10. "He was a faithful servant, and made himself
so valuable to those who employed him that they will
find it hard to fill his place. He was a good husband
and father, so tender, wise, and thoughtful, that Lau-
rie and I learned much of him, and only knew how
well he loved his family when we discovered all he
had done for them, unsuspected and unassisted."
11. Uncle Fritz stopped a minute, and the boys sat
like statues in the moonlight until he went on again,
in a subdued and earnest voice: "As he lay dying, I
said to him, 'Have no care for your wife and the little
ones; I will see that they never want/ Then he
smiled and pressed my hand, and answered, in his
cheerful way, '~No need of that; I have cared for
them.'
12. "And so he had, for when we looked among his
papers, all was in order, — not a debt remained; and
safely put away was enough to keep his wife comfort-
able and independent. Then we knew why he had
lived so plainly, denied himself so many pleasures,
except that of charity, and worked so hard that I fear
he shortened his good life.

13. "He never asked help for himself, though often

for others, but bore his own burden and worked out
his own task bravely and quietly.
one can say a No
word of complaint against him, so just and generous
 FOURTH READER. 249

and kind was he; and now, when he is gone, all find
so much to love and praise and honor, that I am proud
to have been his friend, and would rather leave my
children the legacy he leaves his than the largest
fortune ever made.
14. " Yes simple, genuine goodness
! is the best cap-
ital to found the business of this life upon. It lasts
when fame and money fail, and is the only riches we
can take out of this world with us. Remember that,
my boys; and, if you want to earn respect and confi-
dence and love, follow in the footsteps of John
Brooke."
Definitions. — 2. Eu'lo-gy, a speech or writing in praise of the
character of a person. Chgr'ished, supported, nurtured with care.
4. Ap-pre'ci-at-ed {pro. ap-pre'shi-at-ed), valued justly. 5. CSn-
/ /
sci-6n tious {pro. k6n-shi-8n shus), governed by a strict regard to

the rules of right and wrong. 7. Mood, state of mind, disposition.

11. Sub-dued7 reduced
, to tenderness, softened. 12. In-de-p&nd'ent,
not relying on others. 13. LSg'a-gy, a gift by will, a bequest. 14.
Cap'i-tal, stock employed in any business.

L.XXXVIII. THE INCHCAPE ROCK.

"Robert Southey was a celebrated English poet, born in 1774, who once
held the honorable position of poet laureate. He wrote a great deal both
in prose and verse.

1. No stir in the air, no stir in the sea,

The ship was as still as she could be,
Her sails from heaven received no motion,
Her keel was steady in the ocean.

2. Without either sign or sound of their shock

The waves flowed over the Inchcape Rock;
So little they rose, so little they fell,

They did not move the Inchcape Bell.

 ;

250 ECLECTIC SERIES.

3. The good old Abbot of Aberbrothok

Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock;
On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung,
And over the waves its warning rung.

4. When the Rock was hid by the surges' swell,

The mariners heard the warning bell
And then they knew the perilous Rock,
And blest the Abbot of Aberbrothok.

5. The sun in heaven was shining gay,

All things were joyful on that day;
The sea-birds screamed as they wheeled round,
And there was joyance in their sound.

6o The buoy of the Inchcape Bell was seen

A darker speck on the ocean green;
Sir Ralph the Rover walked his deck,
And he fixed his eye on the darker speck.

7. He felt the cheering power of spring,

It made him whistle, it made him sing;
His heart was mirthful to excess,
But the Rover's mirth was wickedness.

8. His eye was on the Inchcape float;

Quoth he, "My men put out the boat,
And row me to the Inchcape Rock,
And I'll plague the Abbot of Aberbrothok."

9. The boat lowered, the boatmen row,

is

And Inchcape Rock they go;

to the
Sir Ralph bent over from the boat,
And he cut the bell from the Inchcape float.
 FOURTH READER. 251

10. Down sunk the bell, with a gurgling sound,

The bubbles rose and burst around;
Quoth Sir Ralph, " The next who comes to the
Rock,
Won't bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok."

11. Sir Ralph the Rover sailed away,

He scoured the seas for many a day;
And now grown rich with plundered store,
He steers his course for Scotland's shore.
 "

252 ECLECTIC SERIES.

12. So thick a haze o'erspreads the sky

They can not see the sun on high;
The wind hath blown a gale all day,
At evening it hath died away.

13. On the deck the Rover takes his stand,

So dark it is they see no land.
Quoth Sir Ralph, "It will be lighter soon,
For there is the dawn of the rising moon."

14. "Canst hear/' said one, "the breakers roar?

For methinks we should be near the shore."
"Now where we are I can not tell,
But I wish I could hear the Inchcape Bell."

15. They hear no sound, the swell is strong;

Though the wind hath fallen, they drift along,
Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock:
Cried they, " It is the Inchcape Rock !

16. Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair,

He curst himself in his despair;
The waves rush in on every side,
The ship is sinking beneath the tide.

17. But even in his dying fear

One dreadful sound could the Rover hear,
A sound as if with the Inchcape Bell
The fiends below were ringing his knell.

Definitions.— 1. Keel, the principal timber in a ship, extending

from bow to stern, at the bottom. 3. Buoy ( pro. bwoy or bwoy),
a floating mark to point out the position of rocks, etc., beneath the
water. 4. Surge, a large wave. 5. Joy'ance, gayety. 11,

Scoured, roved over, ranged about. Store, that which is massed to-

gether. 14. Me-thinks', it seems to me. 17. Fiendg (pro. fend§),

 FOURTH READER. 253

evil spirits. Knell {pro. nel), the stroke of a bell rung at a funeral
or at the death of a person.

—
Notes. The above poem was written at Bristol, England, in
1802, and recounts an old tradition.
2. The Jnchcape Bock is at the entrance of the Frith of Tay,

Scotland, about fifteen miles from shore.

LXXXIX. MY MOTHER'S GRAVE.

1. It Avas thirteen years since my mother's death,
when, after a long absence from my native village, I
stood beside the sacred mound beneath which I had
seen her buried. Since that mournful period, a great
change had come over me. My childish years had
passed away, and with them my youthful character.
The world was altered, too and as I stood at my
;

mother's grave, I could hardly realize that I was the

same thoughtless, happy creature, whose cheeks she so
often kissed in an excess of tenderness.
2. But the varied events of thirteen years had not

effaced the remembrance of that mother's smile. It

seemed as if I had seen her but yesterday as if the —
blessed sound of her well-remembered voice was in my
ear. The gay dreams of my infancy and childhood
were brought back so distinctly to my mind that, had
it not been for one bitter recollection, the tears I shed

would have been gentle and refreshing.

3. The circumstance may seem a trifling one, but

the thought of it now pains my heart ; and I relate it,

that those children who have parents to love them

may learn to value them as they ought. My mother
had been ill a long time, and I had become so accus-
254 ECLECTIC SERIES.
tomed to her pale face and weak voice, that I was not
frightened at them, as children usually are. At first,
it is true, I sobbed violently; but when, day after day,
I returned from school, and found her the same, I
began to believe she would always be spared to me;
but they told me she would die.
4.One day when I had lost my place in the class,
I came home discouraged and fretful. I went to my
mother's chamber. She was paler than usual, but she
met me with the same affectionate smile that always
welcomed my return. Alas! when I look back
through the lapse of thirteen years, I think my heart
must have been stone not to have been melted by it.
She requested me to go down stairs and bring her a
glass of water. I pettishly asked her why she did not
call a domestic to do it. With a look of mild re-
proach, which I shall never forget if I live to be a
hundred years old, she said, "Will not my daughter
bring a glass of water for her poor, sick mother?"
5. I went and brought her the water, but I did not
do it kindly. Iustead of smiling, and kissing her as
I had been wont to do, I set the glass down very
quickly, and the room.
left After playing a short
time, I bed without bidding my mother good-
went to
night; but when alone in my room, in darkness and
silence, I remembered how pale she looked, and how
her voice trembled when she said, " Will not my
daughter bring a glass of water for her poor, sick
mother?" I could not sleep. I stole into her cham-
ber to ask forgiveness. She had. sunk into an easy
slumber, and they told meI must not waken her.
6. I did not tell any one what troubled me, but
stoleback to my bed, resolved to rise early in the
morning and tell her how sorry I was for my con-
 —
FOURTH READER. 255

duct. The sun was shining brightly when I awoke,

and, hurrying on my clothes, I hastened to my mother's
chamber. She was dead She never spoke more
!

never smiled upon me again; and when I touched the

hand that used to rest upon my head in blessing, it
was so cold that it made me start.
7. I bowed down by her side, and sobbed in the

bitterness of my heart. I then wished that I might

die, and be buried with her; and, old as I now
am, I would give worlds, were they mine to give,
could my mother but have lived to tell me she for-
gave my childish ingratitude. But I can not call her
back; and when I stand by her grave, and whenever
I think of her manifold kindness, the memory of that
reproachful look she gave me will bite like a serpent
and sting like an adder.

Definitions. — 1. Mourn'ful, full of sorrow. Ee'al-ize, to cause

7
to seem real. Ex-gfiss , that which goes beyond what is usual. 2.

Varied, different. Ef-faged', worn away. Pet'tish-ly, in an ill-

tempered way. 6. Re-fjSlvecK, determined. 7. In-grat'i-tude, un-

thankfulness. Man'i-fold, various, multiplied.

XC. A MOTHER'S GIFT— THE BIBLE.

1. Remember, love, who gave thee this,

When other days shall come,
When she who had thine earliest kiss,
Sleeps in her narrow home.
Remember! 'twas a mother gave
The gift to one she'd die to save!
256 ECLECTIC SERIES.

2. That mother sought a pledge of love,

The holiest for her son,
And from the gifts of God above,
To choose a goodly one;
She chose for her beloved boy,
The source of light, and life, and joy.

3. She bade him keep the gift, that, when

The parting hour should come,
They might have hope to meet again
In an eternal home.
She said his faith in this would be
Sweet incense to her memory. •

4. And should the scoffer, in his pride,

Laugh that fond faith to scorn,

And bid him cast the pledge aside,
That he from youth had borne,
She bade him pause, and ask his breast
If she or he had loved him best.

5. A parent's blessing on her son

Goes with this holy thing;
The love that would retain the one,
Must to the other cling.
Remember! 'tis no idle toy:
A mother's gift! remember, boy.

Definitions. — 2. Pledge, proof, evidence. 3. In'cgnse, some-

thing offered in honor of any one. Faith, belief. 4. SeSff'er, one
who laughs at what is good.
 Date Due

—- "TtlPtfl

ttftlQ

KtlUUI OCT 16
PE 1I17.HW 1879 BK-H
MCGUFFEY WILLIAM HOLMES
1800-1873
MCGUFFEY S ECLECTIC
NL 40098477 CURR HIST

-00003HHM930G-