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THE ONTARIO READERS
SECOND BOOK
AUTHORIZED BY
'rH]$ IIINISTER OF EDUCATION
CoDyrlght, Canada, 1923, by
MINISTER OF EDUCATION FOR ONTARIO
PRICE 9 CENTS
TORONTO
,,'T. EATO N C°,,,,-,-,,,
1-32
Tn[ 3l.se oF Envc,o; is indebted to Charles G. D. Roberts,
W. Wilïred Carnpbell, Frederick George Scott, Ernest Thompson-
Selon, C. Frederick Harnilton, Flora Annie Steel, and James F.
Chamberlain for special permission to reproduce, in this Reader,
seleetions from their writings.
He is indebted to Lloyd Osbourne for permission to reproduce
the poems frorn Robert Louis Stevenson's "A Child's Garden of
Verses".
He is indebted to Maemillan & Co., Limited, for permission
fo reproduce the selection frorn Flora Annie Steel's " Tales from
tle Punab"; to ïhe Macrnillan Co., of Canada, Limited, tor the
extract from James F. Chamberlain's " How We Travel "; to The
Copp, Clark Co., Lirnited, tor the selection frorn Charles G. D.
Roberts' ptems; to ,V. J. Gage & Co., Lirnited, for " The Lazy
Frog"; to .Morang & Cornpany, Limited, for the selection frorn
Archibald Larnpman's poems; to Houghton Mifflin Cornpany l'or
Helen Gray Cone's " Dandelions", Celia Thaxter's " Little
Gustava ", and for the seleetion frorn Sara Cone Brvant's " Stories
to Tell the Children "; to Charles Seribner's Sons for the extract
frorn Ernest Thornpson-Seton's " XVild Animais I Have Known ",
and for the selections (copyright) frorn the works of Eugene
Field and H. C. Bunner; and to Little, Brown & Cornpany for
Susan Coolidge's " How the Leaves Came Down "
He is also indebted to John Lane for Mar.iorie Pickthall's
"A Child's Song of Christmas "; to Messrs. Blaekie & Son, Lim-
ited, for permission to reprint from their ".Model Readers " the
seleetitm " Htxv the XVind Blows "; to .Nancy B'rd Turner and
"The Youth's Cornpanion" for the use of "XVater"; fo Rose
Fylernan and Methuen & Co., Lirniled, for permission fo relarint
"A Fair.x "Went A-Marketing" from "Fairies and Chirnneys";
to The Université" Societ)', In., .N.Y., the publishers or " The
Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf " and to The Century Cornpany, laUb-
lishers of " t. Nicholas' Magazine ", for permission to use
" Listen to the Rain "; to Small, Maynard & Company for laer-
mission to reprint frorn Bliss Carrnan's " April Airs ' the selection
" ,Voodland Rain "; to ,Jonathan Cape for the use of "The Rain ",
frorn " Nature Poerns by ,Villiarn H. Davies; to ,Valter de la
Iare for the use r»f " Full Moon": to T. C. and E. C. Jack,
Torontr, for permission to use frorn " The Golden Staircase " the
seleetion " XVynkpn, Blynkpn, and Nod ": to The Millon Bradley
Company and to Carolyn Sherwin Bailey for the use of " The Boy
Who Could hot be Bribed ", frorn " The Children's Hour"
The Minister is grateful to these authors and publishers and
to others, hOt mentioned here, through whose courtesy he has been
able to inelude in this Reader so rnany copyright seletions.
Tono.xo, May, 1923
.,, L;;.L,,ïL L.ULLî..U i ;UII
CONTENTS
The rab and Piis Çame! ............
The Pail o Go]d --.-. - .... Breton Folk-Tale .... 5
The Land of .Vod .... tL L. Steveno ...... S
The Bat, the Birds, an(] the
Beas ........... Esop ..........
he Land o1" Story-Books .. . L. Stevenson ...... 10
low I Turned the Grizdstone Franklin ........
lVoodland lain ........ Bliss Carmart ...... 14
Observation .................... 15
eptember .......... telen 17unt Jacl«son .. 17
Eeho ........................ 18
"'One, Two, Three" ...... 1. C. Bunner ....... 2l
Little led lidîng lood .... Charles Perrault .... 23
1Vhen the Little Boy lan tu'ay ............ 30
An Adventure with Wolves .............. 33
çhe Pond ........ Jane Taylor ...... 36
The Jaekal and the Camel 8ara Cone Brgant .... 38
I Song for Little May . .. Emily tuntfngton Miller 42
The Ass in the Lion's Skin .. .7sop .......... 43
Belling the Car ..... .7sop ........ 44
The Little Land ...... 1. L. Stevenson ...... 45
A Story of lobin tood ................ 48
The Priee of a 8ong ...... La Fontaine ...... 52
Lullaby .......... Tennyson ........ 55
The Blind Men and the Ele-
phant .......... Joh G. Sazce ...... 56
The l:Iare wiLh Many 17riends sop .......... 58
Idrice t/ ...................... 60
Tho Boy and the 17ilberts .. .-sop .......... 61
The Talkative Tortoise ../ .. linàoo Fable ...... 62
1Vovember ......... Alice Cary ......
The Good Samaritan .... çhe Bble ........ 65
(tu)
Eomebody "s Mother
The Rabbit's Trick
ttow the IVinà Blows
The Story of Joseph
A Child's Song of Christmas ..
liding ]ehind leindeer ....
How the Leaves Came Down ..
The Boy and the Squirrel ..
0 Little Town of Bethlehem
Two Ways of Looking At It ..
Marjorie L. C. Pickthall .. 79
James F. Chamberlain .. 80
Eusan Coolidge ...... 85
PhilliFs Brooks ...... 88
Harry Davies ...... 89
Inàian Eummer ...... IV. IVilfreà Camçbell .. 92
The Fox and the Grapes . .. sop .......... 93
Androclus and the Lion .. .4 ttoman Tale ...... 94
The Duel .......... Eugene Fielà ...... 97
............ 99
Mary Howitt ...... 101
Margaret E. Eangster .. 104
The Bible ........ 105
Rose Fyleman ...... 106
Bayarà Taylor ...... 107
............ 109
Virginia lVoodward Cloud 112
............ 114
The Price of Fish ...... From the Italian .... 115
Little 8orrow ........ "Marian Douglas'" .... 117
Story of Red Cross Dog ............... 119
The Pain .t ........ IVilliam H. Dardes .... 122
Full Moon .......... IValter de la larv .... 123
Sir Philip Sidney .................. 124
Little 6ustava ........ Celia Thaxfer ....... 125
The Tiger, the trahman, and
tho Jackal ........ Flora Année Eteel .... 128
The Bluebirà ........
Ulysses ..........
Don "t Kill the Birds ....
IVinter Jewels ........
]Iother Partridge ......
The .4nt and the Cricbet ....
Tho Lary Frog ....................
Emily Huntington Mler 134
A Greek Tale ...... 135
Mary Howitt ...... 137
............ 138
Ernest Thompson-Eeton .. 19
............ 142
144
CONTENTS
PAGE
The lainbow ....... Christina G. Rossetti .. 150
Listen to the lain ...... Isabd Ecclestone Mackay 151
The Boy Who Could Not Be
Bribed .................... 153
1 Little Epring ........ Charles Mackay .... 156
A Wonderful Workman .... A Gr««k Tale ...... 157
The Eprite ..... .... Frederick George Ecott .. 160
The Prodigal Son I/- .... Th« Bible ........ 162
'he Field Mouse /.. .... Mr& ._41exander ...... 164
Queen ]3ess and Walter Raleigh /- ............ 165
._4 Lullaby ...................... 168
They Didr't Thinl ................ 169
Hepatica o - ........ .-4rchibald Lampmar .. 171
The Wind .......... 1L L. Etevenson ...... 172
A]exander's First ¥ictory " . "" Plutarch 's Lives'" .... 173
Dandelion .. .I ...... Heler Gray Cone .... 175
St. George and the Dragon .............. 176
A Wake-Up Eong ...... Charles G. D. t?oberts .. 180
Wynken, Blynken, and Noà Eugene Field ...... 181
Letters of Reeommendtion , ............ 183
._4 Visit from Et. 2Vicholas /, Clement C. Moore .... 185
James Watt and the Tea-Kettle/- ............ 189
Why? ............
Jack Cornwell ........
The Brown Thrush ......
The Candle ........
The Daring Froggie .. ..
The Lord is my Shepherd ..
A Little French Heroine ....
The Golden Touch .....
............ 193
J. E. Hodder-tVilliaras .. 194
Luvy Larcom ...... 199
............ 200
James Clarence Hawer .. 201
The BtT91e ........ 203
............ 204
............ 207
Water .......... 2Vancy Byrà Turner .... 210
How the Greeks Took Troy .............. 211
The Children'8 Hour .... Longfellow ...... 215
.4bide lVith Me ........ Henry Francis Lyte ....
(v)
SECOND READER
THE ARAB AND HIS CAMEL
OSE cold night, as an Arab at in his tent,
his Camel looked in.
" I pray thee, ma.ster," he said, "let me
but put my head within the tent, tbr it i.,:
cold without."
"By all means," said the Arab ; and the
Camel stretched his head into the tent.
" If I might but warm n,v neck, al.,:o,'" he
said, prc.ently.
' Put your neck inside, al,,:o," said the
Amb. Soon the Camel said again:
" [t will take but little more room if I
place my fore-legs within; itis diflàcult
standing without."
"You may do that, also," aid the Ad-ab,
making room.
(1)
" 2 SECOND READER
"May I not stand wholly within?" asked
the Camel; "I keep the tent open by stand-
ing as I do."
5 es, said the _&mb. "I will have
pity on y,,u as wcll as on myself."
So the Camel crowded into the tent; but
it was too Slmtll fbr ],oth.
"I think," stid the Camel, "that there is
not r,-(mL fir us ]th. It will be best for
you to staud out.si,le, as you are the smaller."
And with that he pu.hed the Arab, who
ruade ha.te to gct outside.
It is a wise rule to resist the beginnings
of evil.
THIS WONDROUS WORLD
Thou art, 0 God, the lire and light
Of all this wondrous world we see;
Its glow by day, its stalle by night,
Are but reflections caught from Thee.
Where'er we turn Thy glories shine,
And ail things fair and bright are thine.
Ttiota MOORZ
Y SHOW 3
MY 8HAD0W
I rAVS a little shadow that goes in and out
with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I
can see.
He is very, very like me ïrom the heels up to
the head;
And I see himjump before me, when I jump
into my bed.
4 SECOND READER
The funniest thing about him is the way he
likes to grow--
l'ot at all like proler children, which i alwavs
very low ;
For he solaetimes shoots up taller, like an india-
rubber ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that there's
none of him at all.
He hasn't got a notion of how children ought
to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort
of way.
tte stays so close beside me, he's a coward you
(-an see ;
I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that
shadow sticks to _ae !
One morning, very early, beïore the sun
-as up,
rose and found the shining dew on every
buttercup ;
tut my lazy little shadow, like an arrant
sleepy-head,
Had stayed at hom behind me and was fast
asleep in bed.
g. L. SEVE.SO.
OEHE PAIL OF GOLD 5
i r
TIIE PAIL OF GOLD
OXCE upon a time there lived, iii a land
bêyond the seas, a I,oor man who went êach
day to the forest to cut wood. He marie
little money at this and often wished that
he could final other work to do.
One evening, as he was returning from
his labour, he met a beautiful woman
dressed in white.
ECOB D lEADE
"Go¢,d-evening," aid he as he took off
his Cal» to her.
"G»»d-evelnng, ,-:aid the loey. "at
bas kç, l,t you so late?"
'" I bave been cutting wood in the ]brest,
an«l I have to work long hom's to make
even l»»r fiving," aid the man. "Be
is hard fiae."
"You wouhl like other work with better
l»ay ? ,,
" Indeed I would, and I ara hot hard to
1 »lç, ase."
"Suppoe," said the lady, "I were to fill
vaut l»ail with gold, would you be satisfied ?"
and she l»ointed to the little pail which
h cu'ried his dinner eaeh dav.
"Indeed I would," said the sfised
lall.
'ç Loo inside."
He took off the cover and fod the pail
flfll to the brim of gold cors. He was
nearly overcome with the sight. en he
thought- "Oh, if it haçl been a big pail
The fairy could bave fi]led it just as easily
THE P.kIL OF GOLD
and then I should have been rich for life."
He took off his cap again and thanked the
lady for ber gift.
"It is but a small pail," said he, "and
though there is much money in it, I should
like to run home and g'ct a larg'er pail."
"As you wish," said thê fairy.
Away he tan at the top of his speed to
his home, and soon came back again with a
large bueket.
But, when he came to the spot where he
had left the fairy, shê was hot there, nor
was she anywhere to be seen, though the
grass had a yellow tingê where she had
stood. He looked anxiou.slç into his dinner
pail, but thêrê was no gold there--ju.st the
remains of his dinner. He was poor as
bêfore, poorer and sadder.
BRETON FOLK-TLE
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublilne,
And departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.
LONGFELLOW
THE LAND OF NOD
FRo.I breakfast on through all the day
At home among my friends I stay,
But every night I go abroad
Afar into the land of
All by myself I have to go,
With none to tell me what to do---
._ll alone beside the streams
And up the mountain aides of dreams.
The strangest things are there for me,
t3oth things to eat and things to see,
And many frightening sights abroad
Till morning in the land of Nod.
Try as I like fo find the way,
I never tan get back by day,
Nor tan remember plain and clear
The curious music that I hear.
R. L.
THE BAT, THE BIRDS, AND THE BEASTS
TttEP, E was once a great battle between the
birds and the 1,easts. The bat wished to be
on the stronger side, but did not know which
THE BAT» THE BIRDS AND THE BE.kSTS 9
arlnv tu j)in. At Ih'..s_t the beasts alq)eared
to have the best of it. Then the bat flew
tu them and offered t,» help.
"' But you are a bil'd" said the beasts.
"Has a bird hair on its b)dy and teeth in
its m,mth?" replied the bat.
Thon the battle began to favour the birds,
and the bat s,»on flew over te) that side.
"hat bea.-:t is this?" said thê birds.
"I ara n,)t a bca.t," said the bat. "Has
a beast wings "
But the birds had een him eoming over
from the beasts, and w«,uld not allow him to
join them. ge went ba,:k to the beasts, but
they knew he had desel'ted them, and they
w,)uld havê killed him had he hot flown
away.
It is said that, ever sinee, the bat has
been ashamed to show himself in daylight,
and that he cornes out only in the dark
when the birds and the 1-,easts are asleep.
He who is neither the onê thing nor the
other has no fl'iends.
.EsoP
0 SECOND EADER
THE LAND OF STORY-BOOKS
AT evening when the lamp is lit,
Around the tire my parents sit ;
They sit at home and talk and sing,
And do hot play af anything.
Now, with my little gun, I crawl
All in the dark along the wall,
And follow round the forest track
Away behind the sofa back.
THE LA.-'D OF STORY-BOOKS 11
There, in the night, where none can spy,
All in my hunter's cami) I lie,
And play at books that I have read
Till it is time to go to bed.
These are the hills, these are the woods,
These are my starry solitudes;
And there the river by whose brink
The roaring lions corne to drink.
I see the others far away,
As if in tire-lit cami) they lay,
And I, like to an Indian scout,
.h_round their party prowled about.
So, when my nurse comes in for me,
Home I return across the sea,
And go to bed with backwar, l looks
At my dear land oftory-books.
R. L. STEVENSONI"
They that go down to the sea in ships,
that do business in great waters;
These see the works ofthe Lord,
and His wonders in the deep.
PS_L. CVII, 23, 24
SECOND READER
ttO'W I TURNED THE GRINDSTONE
0' cold wiatcr morning, when I was a
little boy, I met, on my way to school, a
smiling man with an axe on his shoulder.
"My prctty b%v," said he, "has yom"
father a grindstone?"
"Yes, il'," said I.
"You are a fine little fellow," said the
man. "Will you let me grind my axe on
it ?"
HOW I TURNED THE GRINDSTONE 13
It pleased me very much to be called a
fine little fellow ; so I said : "Oh, yes, sh";
it is down in the shop."
"And will you, my little man," said he,
patting me on the head, "get a little hot
water ?"
Now, how could I refuse? He was such
a smiling, pleasant man! As fast as I
eould, I ran into the house and brought him
a whole kettleful.
"How old are you? nd what's your
naine?" he asked. But, before I eould
answer, he went on: "You are one of the
finest lads I ever saw; will you just turn a
few minutes for me?"
Tickled with his praise, like a little fool,
Iwent to work. It was a new axe, andI
toiled and tugged and tttrned till I was thd
enough to drop.
The school bell rang, but I eould not get
away; it rang again, and there I was still,
turning away at the grindstone. My hands
were blistered and my shoulders ached.
SECOND READER
At last the axe was ground. What a
sharp, keen edge it had!
Then I looked up, expecting thanks. But
the man suddenly turned toward me with a
fr(,wn, and said" "¥ou little rascal, you
bave playcd hntant! Be off, now; scud away
to school, or you'll catch it!"
It was hard enough to turn a heavy
grindstone so long, and on such a cold day;
but to be called a "little rascal" for doing
it was too much. These harsh words sank
deep into my boyish mind, and often bave I
thought of them since.
Boys and girls, whenever you meet a fiat-
terer, beware of him. You may be pretty
sure that he has "an axe to gaind, '' and
wants you to tm the grindstone.
WOODLAND RAIN
Shining, shining children
Of the summer rain,
Pacing down the valley,
Sweepîng o'er the plain !
OSmVATION 15
Rushing through the forest,
Pelting on the leaves,
I)renching down the meadow
With its standing sheaves ;
Robed in royal silver,
Girt with jewels gay,
With a gust of gladness
You pass upon your way.
Fresh, ah, fresh behind you,
8unlit and impearled,
As it was in Eden,
Lies the lovely world I
BLISS CA_RMAN
OBSERVATION
Au Indian, upon retmfing to his wigwam,
found that his venison had been stolcn.
After taking notice of the ma,'ks about the
place, he set off in pursuit of the thief, whom
he tracked through the woods.
Meeting with some persons on the way, he
inquired if they had seen u little, old, white
man with u short gun and accompanied by
16 SECOND READER
a small dog with a bobtail. They said that
they had.
" Then you know him ?" said they.
"I have never seen him, nor even heard
of him," said the Indian.
"How then can you describe him so
milmtely ?"
"Tho thieï, I know, is a little man, by
his having heaped up a pile of wood to
stand upon, in order to reaeh the venison
whieh I had hung up in my wivam while
standing on the ground. That he is an old
man, I know by Iris short steps whieh I
bave traced over the dead leaves in the
woods. I know that he is a white man
leeau.e he tracas out his toes when he
walks. This an Indian never does.
"His gun is short, I eonclude, beeause of
the mark ruade by the muzzle on the bark
of a tree against which it had leaned.
"His dog is small, I know by his traek;
and that he has a bobtail is elear from the
mark in the dust where he was sitting while
his toaster was stealing my venison."
SEPTE5IBER 17
SEPTEMBER
TttE goldenrod is yellow ;
The corn is turning brown ;
The trees in apple orchards
With fruit are bending down..
The gentian's bluest fringes
Are curling iii the sun ;
In dusky pods the milkweed
Its hidden silk bas spun.
The sedges fiaunt their harvest
In every meadow nook,
And asters by the brookside
Make asters in the brook.
From dewy lanes at morning
The grape's sweet odours rise;
At noon the roads all flutter
With golden butterflies.
By all these lovely tokens
September days are here,
With summer's best of weather
And autumn's best of cheer.
HELEN HUNT JACKSON
18 EECO'D REA.DER
ECHO
]U'DREDS and hmdreds of years ago, the
1,eoplc who lived on this beautiful earth told
strange stories to one another, and believed
cmious things.
Ont stoy which they loved to tell was
alout the leautiful nymph called Echo.
Thcse people thought that in all the
woods and streams, and hills and hollows,
livcd fait creaturcs who shared the lire of
thc brooks and tres. Thev called these
creatures nnl,hs.
These n)nnphs were beautfful ereatures
who loved l»lossoming flowers and singing
l»rooks. The fairest of them ail was Eeho,
and hers was the sweetest n-oiee.
One day Echo displeased Queen Juno.
Now, you must know, Juno had wonderful
power. She eould change a nymph to a
stone, or a fountain, or breeze. And she
said to Eeho"
"You may keep your sweet voiee, ff you
like, but you shall have nothing else. And
co 19
you shall never speak first. You shall
answer only when others speak to you."
Poor Echo! She became thin and pale.
and thimmr and paler, until at last Queen
Juno's words became tique. Only her voice
was left.
She wandered ri'oto place to place in the
woods, unseen, and heard onlv when thers
spoke.
On a quiet evening you ma)- hear her, if
you walk ncar some high rock where she
loves to bide. Call to her and she will
answer.
"Where are you ?" you nmy ask.
"Vhere are you ? " she will reply.
"Are you Echo ? "
" Echo ! " she answers.
" Corne to me!" )-Oll
"Corne to me!" she replies.
"I like you," you sa)" to her.
"I like you," Echo repeats.
Now a vel T curious thing is true" Echo
always answers in the saine tone in which
20 sCOD
VOU speak to hêr. If you sing, she ings
lack to you. If you shout, she shouts to
vou again. If yu c T, she ccs, to. If
wu are crs and ill-nated, she wifi be
cross and fll-naturcd, too.
Tw 1,ys once went into the woods to
find Echo. ey could not hear ber voice,
although they caed and called. At lait
one of them eried, impatiently: "You al a
mean old cheat"
Qtfiek as thought came baek the cross
re I ly :
"You al a mean old eheat!" e other
boy eried, q,fiekly : "He didn't mean that."
The saine tone came baek Eeho's reply:
"He didn't mean that."
When the l_,vs tohl their mother what
had happened, she sled and said : "at
hall.»ens the world over. ntle woMs 11
1,5ng ibh gentle words, and harsh tones
will be echoed by harsh tones."
" A soft answer tunaeth away ath : but
evous words stir up anger."
OIE TWO THREE 21
"ONE, TWO, THREE"
IT was an old, old, old, old lady
And boy that was half-past three,
And the way that they played together
Was beautiful to see.
8he couldn't go running and jumping,
And the boy, no more could he;
For he was a thin little fellow,
With a thin little twisted knee.
They sat in the yellow sunlight,
Out under the maple tree,
And the game that they played l'll tell yiu,
Just as it was told to me.
It was Hide-and-Go-Seek they were playing,
Though you'd never have known it to be
With an old, old, old, old lady
And a boy with twisted knee.
The boy would bend his face down
On his little sound right knee,
And he'd guess where she was hiding,
In guesses One, Two, Three.
SECOND IEADER
"You are in the china closet?"
He would cry and laugh with glee---
It wasn't the china closet--
But he still had Two and Three.
"You are up in Papa's big bed-room,
In the chest with the queer old key?"
And she said: "You are warm and warmer;
But you're hot quite right," said she.
"It can't be the little cupboard
Where Mamma's things used to be
So it must be the clothes-press, Grandma;"
And he found her with his Three.
Then she covered her face with her fingers,
That were wrinkled and white and wee,
And she guessed where the boy was hiding,
With a One and a Two and a Three.
And they never had stirred from their places
Right under the maple tree---
This old, old, old, old lady
And the boy with the lame little knee--
This dear, dear, dear old lady
And the boy who was half-past three.
H. C. Buï
IITTLE IED IIDING HOOD 3
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD
IN a very pretty village, far away, there
once lived a nice little girl. She was one
of the sweetest children ever seen.
Her mother loved ber very much, and ber
grandmother said that she was the light of
her eyes and the joy of ber heart.
To show ber love for the child, this good
old dame had ruade her a little red hood,
SECOND READER
and after a time the little girl was known
as Little Red Riding Hood.
0ne day ber mother baked some cakes
and ruade some fresh butter. "Go," she
said to Little I'ed Riding Hood, "and take
this cake and a pot of butter to your grand-
mother; for she is ill in bed."
Little Red Riding Hoe»d was a willing
child, and liked to be useful; and, besides,
she loved ber gTandmother dearly.
So she lut the things in a basket, and at
once set out for the village on the other
side of the wood, where her grandmother
hved.
Just as she came fo the ede of the wood,
Little Red Ridin Hood met a wo, who
said to ber" "Good-mornin, Little Red
Ridin Hood."
He would bave liked to eat ber on the
spot; l,ut some woodmen were at work
near by, and he ïeared they might kill him.
"Good-momin, Master Wolf," said the
little g4d, who had no thought of ïear.
"And where are you going?" said he.
LITTLE ltED ltIDING HOOD 5
"I ara going to my grandmother's," said
Iàttle Ped liding ttood, "to take her
cake and pot of butter; for she is ill."
"_knd where does poor grandmother lire ?"
asked the wolf.
"Down past the mill on the other side of
the wood," said the child.
"Well, I think that I will go and sec hel;
too," said the wolf. "So I will take this
road, and do you take that, md we shall
sec which of us will be there first."
The wolf knew thag his way was the
nearer, for he could dah through the
and swim
eut gct to the old dame'.s door.
The woK tan on as N.t as he eotùd, and
was very soon at the cottage. He knoeked
at the door with his paw. "Thump!
thump ! "
"Who is there ?" eried grandmother.
" It is Little Red tliding Hood. I have
eome to ,sec how -ou are, and to bling you
a cake and a pot of butteg said the woll ,
as well as he eould.
He ruade s voice sod ke that of the
ttle girl.
"PuH the bobbin, and the latch wiH fly
up," cacd the 'andmother from ber bed.
The woh' pled the bobb, and in he
went. Without a word he sprang upon the
old woman and are ber up, for he had hot
tasted food for the days.
Then he shut the door, and got to the
-andmother's bed. But first he put on ber
cap and night-go.
He laughed to think of the trick he was
to play upon Little Red Riding Hood, who
musc soon be there.
Ail this rime Little Red Ring ood was
on ber wav thugh the wood.
She stopped to listen to the birds that
sang in the tes; and she 1,icked the sweet
flowers that ber grandmother hked, d
nmde a 1,retty nosêgay of them.
A wasp boEzed about ber head, and
hghted on ber flowers. "Eat as much as
you hke," she said; "only do hot sting
me." Be bzed louder, but soen flew away.
LITTLE IED IIDING HOOD 27
And a little biM came and pecked at the
cake in ber basket. "Take all you want,
pmtty bird," said Little Rcd Riding Hod.
"Them will still be plenty left tbr grand-
mother and me." "Tweet, tweet," sang
the bird, and was soon out of sight.
And now she came upon an old dame
who was looking for cresses. "Let me fill
your basket," she said, and she gave her
the bread she had brought t» eat by the way.
The dame rose, and patting the little
maid on the head, said: "Thank you, Little
Red Riding Hood. If you should mcet the
gq'een huntsnmn as you go, pray tell him
fmm me that there is gaine in the wind."
Little Red Riding ][ood looked all about
lbr the green huntsman. She had never
seen or heard of such a person belbre.
At last she passed by a pool of water, so
green that you would have taken it for
grass. Them she saw a huntsman, clad all
in green, who was looking at some birds.
"Good-morning, Mr. Huntsman," said
Little Red Riding Hood; "the water-cress
woman says there is gaine in the wind."
The htmt.man nodded. He bent his ear
to the g3"ound to li.-:ten. Then he took an
arrow and put it in his bow. "What can
it mean ?" thought the little gh'l.
Little Red Riding Hood at last came to
her grandmother's cottage, and gave u little
tap at the
"Who is there ?" cried the wolf.
The hoar.e voice ruade Little Red iding
Hood sa)- to herself: "Poor gn'andmother is
veto- ill, .he must have a bad eold."
"It is I, .rouf Little Red Riding Hood,"
she said. "I have eome to ,-:ee how you
are, and to bring you a pot of butter and a
cake from mother."
"Pull the 1;obbin, and the lateh will fly
up," ealled the wolf. Little Red tliding
Hood did ,,:o, the door flew open, and she
went at onee into the cottage.
"Put the cake and 1,utter on the table,"
said the wolï, "then corne and help me tÇ
fise." He had hid his head under the bed-
elothes.
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD 9
She took off ber things, and went to the
bed to do as he had been told. "Why,
grandmothcr," she said, "what long arms
you bave I"
"The better to hug you, my dear," said
the wolf.
"And, grandmother, what long ears you
bave !"
"The better to hear you, my dear."
" But, grandmother, u-bat great eyes you
bave !"
"The better to see you, my dear."
"But, grandmothel; what big teeth you
bave I"
"The better to eat you with, my dear,"
said the wolf.
He was just going fo ,pring upon poor
Little Red Riding Hood, when a wasp flew
into the room and stung him upon the no,se.
The wolf gave a cT, and a little bill
outside sang" "Tweet ! tweet[" This told
the green huntsman it was time to let fly
his arrow, and the wolf was killed on the
spot. cs Paa.ULT
30 u.»
WHEN THE LITTLE BOY RAN AWAY
When the little boy ran away from home,
The birds in the tree-tops knew,
And they all sang, "Stay !"
But he wandered away
Under the skies of blue.
And the wind came whispering ïrom the tree,
'" Follow me--follow me
And it sang him a song that was soft and sweet,
And scattered the roses before his feet
That day--that day
When the little boy tan away.
The violet whispered" "Your eyes are blue
And lovely and bright to see;
And so are mine, and I'm kin to you,
So dwell in the light with me!"
But the little boy laughed, while the wind in
glee
Said" "Follow me--follow me !"
And the wind called clouds from their home
in the skies,
And said to the violet: "Shut your eyes !"
That day--that day
When the little boy ran away.
Then the wind played leap-frog over the hills
And twisted eaeh leaf and limb;
And all the rivers and all the rills,
Were foaming mad with him;
And it was dark as darkest night eould be,
But still eame the wind's voiee : "F,»llow me !"
And over the mountain and up from the
hollow
Came eehoing voiees with "Follow him,
follow !"
That awful day
Whên the littlê boy ran away.
Then the little boy cried" "Let me go---let me
go!"
For a scared, scared boy was he!
32 SECOND RF_k DER
But the thunder growled ïrom the black cloud,
"No !"
And the wind roared : "Follow me!"
And an old gray owl from a tree-top flew,
Saying : "Who are you-oo? who are you-oo?"
And the little boy sobbed : "I'm lost away,
And I want to go home where my parents stay!"
Oh! the awful day
When the little boy ran away.
Then the Moon looked out from the cloud
and said"
"Are you sorry )-ou ran away ?
If I light you home to your trundle bed,
Will you stay, little boy, will you stay?"
And the little boy promised--and cried and
cried--
He would never leave his mother's side;
And the Moonlight led him over the plain,
And his mother wlcç»med him hume again.
But oh! what a dav
When the littlc boy ran away!
t'ride goeth l,efi_we destruction, and an
haughty Slfirit be|bre a fidl.
Paovrs, XVI
AN ADVE.,TURE VITH VOLVES 33
AN ADVENTURE WITH WOLVES
E.F.L¥ [t hundred years ago, in one of the
early settlements of this Province, then called
Uppcr Canada, an exciting advcnture befell
a young ld only ten ycars of age.
The brave boy was on his return home
with u pair of oxen, vith which he had been
assisting a neighl,oUl', living about six toiles
from his futher's house.
SECO-N'D READER
]Jis road lav along the river bank, which
was dreary enough in the fall of the year,
and more so as darkne.s was coming on; but
the ehild saw the deepening shades sink into
night without feeling any fear.
He was trudging on steadily, singing
eheerfully as he -alked, when sound came
on the night air which sCt shivC through
his fl'ame--the fierce elT of volves.
At fil'st he hol,ed that he was not the
object of pro'suit; 1,ut the hideous uproar
came nearer and nearer; and then he knew
that he mu.t i.tamly adopt some plan for
his escape.
ttis mute lay by the river shore, and he
could swim well; but the night was dark,
and he might be hurried into the rapids; and
to be dashed to pieces on the rocks was
scarcelv less dreadflfl than to be mangled
and devom-ed by 'olves.
tte prayed to God for tidance, and then
he mounted Buck, the near«»x, tte used his
goad, shouting at the .anle time to the
animal to tu'ge him to hi. utmot speed.
AN ADVENTURE WITlï VOLVES 35
In most cases, Buck would have flung off
his rider; but now he set off with the speed
of u race-horse, as if fully aware of his young
rider's pcril, to say nothing of his own. 1Vor
was the companion ox less tardy.
Fast, however, as the trio flcd, still faster
came on the yelling pack behind, their long,
hard gallop being heard more and more
distinctly.
Fortuntely for the boy, the oxen heard it,
too, and dashed on and on; but still the
wolves came nearer and nearer.
The boy shouted to keep them off; the
oxen were straining every muscle; their
chains rattled as they hm'ricd on. This
clanking sound, to which the hateful pack
were unaccustomed, ruade them pause whcn-
ever they came close upon the oxen, whilst
the latter redoublcd their spccd.
At length these gallant raccrs brought
the brave little fcllow fo his own door; and
the wolves were left l»ehind in the forest to
seek elsewhere for their prcy.
ECOND READER
THE POND
THnE was a round pond (and a pretty pond, too),
Around it white daisies and violets grew ;
And tall weeping willows that stooped to the
ground
Bent down their long branches and shaded it
round.
One day a young chicken that lived thereabout
Stood watching to see the ducks pop in and out,
Now splashing above, now diving below,--
She thought of all things, she should like to do so.
THE POND
So the poor silly chick was determined to try ;
She thought 'twas as easy to swim as to fly ;
Though her mother had told her she must not
go near,
She foolishly thought there was nothing to fear.
"My feet, wings, and feathers for all I can see
As good as the ducks' are for swimming," said she;
"If ny beak is pointed and their beaks are round,
Is that any reason why I should be drowned ?"
So in the poor ignorant animal flew,
But soon found her mother's warnings were true;
She splashed, and she dashed, and she turned
herself round,
And heartily wished herself safe on the ground.
But now 'twas too late to begin to repent;
The barder she struggled the deeper she went,
And when every effort she vainly had tried,
She slowly sank down to the bottom and died.
J. TAVLOR
WHOEVER you are, be noble;
Whatever you do, do well;
Whenever you speak, speak kindly,
Give joy wherever you dwell.
Rusn
EOeND READER
THE JACKAL AND THE CAMEL
THE Jackal was exceedingly fond of shell-
fish, especially of river crabs. Now, there
came a time when he had eaten all the
cmbs tobe found on his own side of the
river, tte knew there must be plenty on
the other side, if he could only get to them,
but he could hot swim.
One day he thought of a plan. ge went
to his friend, the Camel and said:
THE OEACKAL AND THE CAMEL 39
"Friend Camel, I know u spot where the
sugar-cane grows thick; l'll show you the
way, if you will take me there."
"Indeed I will," said the Camel, who was
very fond of sugar-cane. "Where is it ?"
"If is on the other side of the river," said
the little Jackal; "but 'e can manage it
nicely, if you will tuke me on your back and
swim over."
The Camel was perfectly willing, so the
little Jackal jumped on his back, and the
Camel swam across the river, carrying him.
When they were safely over, the little Jackal
j umped down and showed the Camel the
sugar-cane field; then he ran swiftly along
the river bank fo haut for crabs ; the Camel
began to eat sugar-cane. He ate happily,
and noticed nothing around him.
Now, you know, a Camel is very big, and
u Jackal is very little. Consequently, the
little Jackal had eaten his fill by the rime
the Camel had barelv taken a mouthful.
The little Jackal had n mind to wait
his slow friend; he wanted to be off home
40 SEOeND IEAD EI
again, alout his ]u.iness. So he ran round
mad round the sugar-cane field, and as he
ran, he sang and shouted and ruade a great
hullabaloo.
Of course, the villagers heaM him at
once.
"There is Jackal in the sugar-cane,"
thev said; "he will dig holes and destroy
the roots; we muet go d,wn and drive him
out." So the- came down with sticks and
stones. When they got thêre, there was no
Jackal to l_,e seen; but they saw the great
Camel, eating away at the juicy sugar-cane.
They ran at him and beat him, and stoned
him, and drove him awa" haff-dead.
When they had gone, leaving the poor
Camel half-killed, the little Jackal came
dancing back from somewhere or other.
"I think it'.s rime to go home now," he
said," "don't vc,u 9. ,,
"Well, you are a pretty friend !" said the
Camel. "The idea of your making such a
noise with vour shouting and singing! ¥ou
brought this upon me. What in the world
THE JACKAL AND THE CAMEL 41
ruade you doit ? Why did you shout and
sing ?"
"Oh, I don't know wty," said the little
Jackal,--" I always sing after dinncr !"
"So? " said the Camcl, "Ah, vc" wcll,
let us go home now." He t[»ok the little
Jackal kindly on his back and stmoEed into
the water. Whcn he began to swim, he
swam out to whcre the river was the very
deepcst. Thcrc he stoppcd, and said:
"Oh, Jackal ! "
"Yes," aid the little Jackal.
"I bave the strangest feeling," said the
Camcl,--" I fecl as if I must roll over."
"Roll over ! " cricd the Jackal. " My
goodness, don't do that! If you do that,
you'll drown me! What in the world makcs
you want to do such a crazy thing? Why
should )'ou want to roll over ? "
"Oh, I don't know w)ly," said the Camel,
slowly, "but I always roll over after dinnerl"
So he rolled over.
Aud the little Jackal was dmwned, but
the Camel came safely honm.
SAR. OE BaYAIT . "Stories to te]] the Children."
42 ECOND READER
A SONG FOR LITTLE MAY
Il.ovE you heard the waters singing,
Little 5Iay,
Where the willows green are bending
O'er their way ?
Do you know how low and sweet,
O'er the pebbles at their feet,
Are the words the waves repeat,
Night and day?
Have you heard the robins singing,
Little one,
When the rosy dawn is breaking,
When 'ris done ?
tiare you heard the wooing breeze
In the blossomed orchard trees,
And the drowsy hum of bees
In the sun ?
All the earth is full of music,
Little May--
Bird, and bee, and water singing
On its way.
Let their silver voices fall
On thy heart with happy call,
"Praise the Lord, who loveth al],
Iight and day,"
Little May.
F.L, Hur«
THE ASS IN THE LIONS SKIN 43
THE ASS IN THE LION'S 8KIN
A, Ass once found a Lion's s-kin which the
hunters had spread out in the sun to d T.
He put it on and went home to the town.
Men and beasts fled in all directions as he
came near. What a proud ass he was that
day!
In his delight at the fear caused by his
appearance, he lifted up his voice and
SECOND EADEl
roared, or tried fo. Everyone knew at once
it was but the bray of an ass. His owner
came and gave him u sotmd flogging for
the trick he had played.
"He hadn't even sense enough to keep
silent," said the Fox.
Fine clothes may disgui.e, but silly words
will reveal a fol soP
BELLING THE CAT
TI/EIE w once a cat who wms very clever,
and the mice were very much afmid of her.
They tried to think of some plan by which
she might hot be able fo surprise them.
At last one of the mice said: "Take my
adice, let us fie a bell round the cat's
neck. Then we shall always know when
she îs near."
The mice thought this was a very good idea.
But one old mouse said: "This sounds a
very wise plan. But now, which of you
will hang the bell on the car ?"
Alas for the plan! Not a mouse could
be fotmd brave enough to do it! sop
THE LITTLE LAND 45
THE LITTLE LAND
WrEr at home alone I sit
And ara very tired of it,
I have just to shut my eyes
To go sailing through the skies--
To go sailing far away
To the pleasant Land of Play;
To the fairy land afar
Where the Little People are;
Where the clover-tops are trees,
And the rain-pools are the seas,
And the leaves like little ships
ail about on tiny trips ;
6 SECOINïD IEADER
And above the daisy tree
Through the grasses,
I-Iigh o'erhead the Bumble Bee
Hums and passes.
In that forest to and fro
I can wander, I can go ;
See the spider and the fly
And the ants go marching by,
Carrying parcels with their feet
])own the green and grassy street.
I can in the »orrel
Yhere the lady bird al]t.
I can climb the jointed grass ;
And on tfigh
See the greater swallows pass
In the sky,
And the round sun rolling by
Heeding no such thing as I.
Through that forest I can pass
Till, as in a loo -king-glass,
Humming fly and daisy tree
And my tiny self I see,
:Painted very clear and neat
On the rain-pool at my feet.
Should a leaflet corne to land,
Drifting near to where I stand,
THE IITTLE ID 4
Straight l'll board that tiny boat
Round the rMn-pool sea to float.
Little îhoughtful creatures sit
On the grassy coasts of it;
Little things with lovely eyes
See me sailing with surprise.
Some are clad in armour green--
(These bave sure to battle been !)
Some are pied with every hue,
Black and crimson, green and blue;
Some have wings and swift are gone ;--
But they all look kindly on.
When my eyes I once again
Open and see all things plain:
High bare walls, great bare floor;
Great big knobs on drawer and door;
Great big people perehed on chairs,
Stitehing tueks and mending tears,
Eaeh a bill that I could climb,
And talking nonsense all the rime--
Oh dear me,
That I eould be
A sailor on the rain-pool sea,
A elimber on the clover tree,
And just corne baek, a sleepy-head,
Late at night to go to bed.
K L. SrEVSON
A STORY OF ROBIN HOOD
Ix the far-off times of King Richard of
England, there lived in Sherwood Forest a
hand of robbers. There were nearlv hundred
of these daring outlaws. Their leader was
the famous Rq»bin Hood.
One day Robin Hood was standing in the
forest, when he saw passing near him a
young man dressed in a suit of scarlet.
The youth walked with a light and joyous
A STOR¥ OF ROBIN HOOD 49
step, and he sang a merry song as he
hurriëd on.
"I will hOt stop him," said Robin to him-
self; "for he seems to be on his way to his
weddîng."
The very next day, as Robin walked in
the forest under the great oak trees, he saw
the saine young man coming slowly ah»ng.
The youth was hot singing, but sighing and
groaning ai every step. He was dres.sed in
sober gmy, and he walked very slowly, and
kept saying to himself, "Alas!" and
"Ah me!"
Robin Hood this rime stepped foth and
asked the youth for his money. "I have
nothing," declared the youth, "but rive
shillings and u ring. This ring I have kept
seven long years for my wedding. My naine
is Allan-u-Dale," he said. "I was fo have
been mal-ied yesterday fo a beautiful maiden,
but she was taken from me. Her fathêr has
promised her fo u rich old knight, and lny
poor heal is broken."
"Y3aat will y«u give me if I he]p you to
win your bride again?" said Robin.
0 SECO.N'D READER
"I have no gold, sir," said Allan; "but if
you will help me to marry my true love, I
will serve you for ever."
"How many toiles uway does the maiden
lire?" asked Robin.
"It is only rive shor mlles, but -hat
if she should marry the old knight to-day ?"
moaned Allan.
Then Robin Hood hastily dressed himself
like an old hall)er, and wittfin an hour he
stood at the door of the ehtu-eh.
"Who are vou?" the bishop ealled out;
"and what are you doing here?"
"I ara a bold haq)er," rel)lied Robin;
"the best in the north eotmtT."
"Then weleome here," the bishop said. "I
like the music of the hall». You shall play
for us to-day."
"h'o music shall you hure," said Robin;
"till I see the bride and the bridegroom."
Just then the brideoom ented, riehly
dressed, but feeble and gray, and bent with
age. After him êntered the bêautiful bride,
leaning heavily on her father's arm. lier
A STORY OF ROBIN HOOD 51
cheeks were pale, an¢l her weeping eyes were
cast down.
When the aged knight and the maiden
whom he was about to wed had reached the
altar rails, the bi.ho l) opened his book to
begin the marriage service.
Robin Hood sprang forward and shouted :
"ttold! This is hot , fit match! Let the
bride ehoose for herself!"
Robin then threw off his harper's dress,
put his horn to his lips, and blew three
rimes.
Then four-and-twenty men, dressed in gTeen
and armed with bows and arrows, came
running into the ehurch, all in row, and
the head man of them all was Allan-a-Dale.
"Now, whom do )'ou ehoose ?" said Robin
to the maiden. Allan-a-Dale drew near her,
and she placed ber hand timidly in his.
And so the beautiful maiden and Allan-a-
Dale were married then and there. Allan
and his young wife returned with Robin
FIood to Sherwood Forest, where they were
to rive, the happiest couple in ail England.
52 SECOND READF.R
THE I'RICE OF A SONG
I. one of the great tenement houses in Paris,
a col»Mer lived in the basement, and j ust
above him, on the first fioor, lived a vcry
rich man. The cobbler was poor but happy.
He sang all day as he ruade or mended
shoes.
The rich man had much money, and at
night he lay awake planning how to invest
it so as to make more, and often wondêring
if it were ail quite safe.
Usually it was morning when he fell
asleep. But the cobbler was up at daylight
and began his work and his singing almost
as soon as he could oee.
This troubled the rich man, and he said
to a wise friend : "What aih I to do ? I can't
sleep at night for thin king about my money,
and I can't sleep in the morning because
of that cobbler's .in«in« ." Together they
formed a plan.
Next day the rich man went down to the
basement where the cobbler was working
and singing. The cobbler was glad when he
saw him corne in. "Now," thought he, ', I
shall bave an order for a fine pair of boots,
and I shall be paid wcll for my work."
But the rich man had anothcr purl)ose in
Iris mind. He carried a small bag h his
hand. Out of it he took a purse and gave it
to the cobbler, saying: "I have brought you
one hundred crowns as a prcsent."
The astonished cobblcr said: "I cannot
take the monéy, sir, I have done nothing to
earn it. Why do you give it to me ?'
"Because you are the happiest man I
know, and the most contented."
"It is to be all mine, and you will never
ask for it again ?"
"Never."
"0, thank you, sir, thank vou. You are
so very kind."
After the rich man had gone, the cobbler
went into his bed-ro«»ln and poured the coins
on the bed. He had never seen so lnuch
money before, and ho bcgan to be anxious
as to where he should hide it for safe-
keeping,
54 SECON'D READER
The sudden coming of his wife into the
room scared him so that he covered the
money (luickly and scolded ber for the first
time in his lire. He hid the purse tmder the
lvillow and left thc door ol,en so that he
could sec the pillow fi-ora his work-bench.
Then he thought that he would find a better
hiding-place. He hid the pur.se at the foot
of the bed. An hour later he put it undcr
the sheets.
His wife asked what was wrong with the
1,ed, and the in'irai,le cobbler told ber to
nlind ber ow business--as if the care of
beds was hot ber business. :Ho kept moving
the pur.e from place to place, growing more
anxious each day. The foolish man 1-,egan
to suspect even his own wife. He no longer
sang as ho worked. ]ï[is friends saw that he
left his bench every hour or so.
But thc rich man was happy. He slept
long and soundly each morning. Day
after day he rcjoiced af the success of his
plan.
When t week had passed, the cobbler
eould bear his won T no longer. He told
LULLABY 55
wife the whole story. That day he carried
the purse up to the rich man's office, put it
upon the desk, and said: "Hem is your
money, sir. I cannot live without my song."
I FOTJN
LULLABY
SWEET and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Corne from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me; .
While my little one, while my pretty one,
sleeps.
Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon ;
Rest, rest on mother's breast,
Father will corne to thee soon ;
Father will corne to his babe in the nest,
Silver sails all out of the west
Under the silver moon :
81eep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one,
sleep.
TENNYSON
COND READER
THE BLIND MEN AND THE ELEPHANT
IT was six men of Indostan,
To learning much inclined,
Who went to see the elephant,
(Though all of them were blind),
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind.
The first approached the elephant
And, happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once begaa to bawl:
THE BLIID MEI AID THE ELEPHAh
"Why, bless me ! but the elephant
Is very like a wall
The second, feeling of the tusk,
Cried" " Ho! what have we here
So very round and smooth and sharp ?
To me, 'tis very clear,
This wonder of an elephant
Is very like a spear !"
The third approached the animal
And, happening to take
The quirming trunk within his hands,
Thus boldly up he spake-
" I see," quoth he, "the elephant
Is very like a shake !"
The fourth reached out his eager hand
And felt about the knee-
"What most this wondrous beast is like
Ils very plain," quoth he-
"Tis clear enough the elephant
Is very like a tree !"
Thefifth who chanced to touch the ear,
Said- "E'en the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most---
Deny the fact who can"
This marvel of an elephant
Is very like a fan! "
8 SECOND IEADEE
The sixth no sooner had begun
About the beast to grope
Than, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his icope,
"I see," quoth he, "the elephant
Is very like u tope !"
And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong ;
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong.
Jon. G. S&x
THE HAPPE WITH MANY FRIENDS
TrIE haie was much liked by the other ani-
mal.s in the pasture.
All claimed to be ber friends. One day
she heard h the distance the baying of
h»mds. She knew that they were following
ber trail, but believed ber ffiends would aid
her to escape.
She ran to the horse and asked him to
carry her away on his back. He excused
himself, as he had some work to do just then
THE HAIE WITH MANY FIIENDS 5
for his owner. "I have no doubt," said he,
"that your other fiends will be only too
glad to help you."
She went next to the bull and asked him
to pmtect ber against the hounds. "I am
very sorry," said he, "but I bave an engage-
ment which I l»refer not to break. Yom"
fi'iend, the ram,will consider it an honour to
aid )'ou."
She htm'ied to the rare and told him ber
stol T. "Not this time," said the rare. " I
prefer not to take pal% in qualTels. Dogs,
you know, sometimes kill sheep as well as
hares."
As a last rert she went fo the calf.
"Perhaps," said the calf, "I ought to aid
you, but I feel that one so young as I ara
ought not to undertake a task which his
elders bave declined, without thinking it
over very carefully."
By this rime the hounds were in sight,
and the hare, unable to wait longer, raced
off at the top of her speed and lucldly
escaped.
EsoP
60 SECOID READER
ADVICE
THERE was once a lretty chicken,
But his friends were very ïew,
For he thought that there was nothing
In the world but what he knew.
he always, in the farmyard,
Had a very forward way,
Telling all the hens and turkeys
What they ought to do and say.
"Mrs. Goose," he said, "I wonder
That your goslings you should let
Go out paddling in the water ;
It will kill them to get wet.
" And I wish, my old Aunt I)orking,"
He began to her one day,
"That you wouldn't sit all summer
In your nest upon the hay ;
Won't you corne out to the meadow,
Where the grass with seeds is filled ?"
"If I should," said Mrs. Dorking,
"Then my eggs would get all chilled. »
"No, they won't," replied the chicken ;
"And no matter if they do.
Eggs are really good for nothing.
What's an egg to me or you? »
THE BOY A.-D THE FILBERTS
"What's an egg?" said 5[rs. Dorking,
"Can it be you do hot know ?
You, yourself, were in an egg-shell
Just a little month ago,--
And if kind wings had not warmed you,
You would hot be out to-day,
Telling hens, and geese, and turkeys,
What they ought to do or say !"
To be very wise and show it,
Is a pleasant thing, no doubt ;
But when young folks talk to old folks,
They should know what they're about.
THE BOY AND THE FILBERTS
A little boy once put his hand into a pitcher
nearly filled with filberts.
He seized as many as his hand would hold.
But when he triêd to draw out his closed fist,
he could hOt do so, as the neck of the
pitcher was very narrow.
Not willing to lose the nuts he had
grasped, he began to cry.
His mother gave him this wise advice:
"Be satisfied with hall the number of nuts,
and your hand will corne out with ease."
SOP
S ECOI" D 1READER
THE TALKATIVE TORTOISE
I." a small lake up in the mountains, there
once lived fox-toise. He had ruade friends
-ith the geese who came there fo feed. In
the autumn, when the geese were about to
fiy south, they told him of a beautiful pond
in a great park in the land of fiowers to
-hich they were going.
'" Will you corne with us?" asked the
geese.
"Itow can I get there?" replied the tor-
toise.
"Two of us wiL[ take you, ff you will
THE TALKATIVE TORTOISE 3
promise to hold your tongue and speak to
no one on the wav."
"That is easily donc," said the tortoise,
"take me along."
The geese brought a hol't stick an,l
the tortoise seize it with his mouth. The
two geese took the ends in thêir bills
flew up into the ah', and away towards the
south.
People loo-ldng up saw this and said-
"Why, there are two wild-geese caloE.w-ing
tortoise on a stick."
Instantly the toloEoise, forgetting his
promise, opened his mouth and said"
"What business of yours is it, if my
fi'iends choose o carry me this way."
They were just passing over a wide paved
street in a great city, as he let go the stick
to speak. He lhll upon the stoncs bclow
and was killêd.
As he fcll, the King, who was. passing,
asked the meaning of this. A wie man
answered
"0 King, this tortoise could not keep
from talking." mDO0 F
64 SECOI) READER
IOVEMBER
THE leaves are fading and falling,
The winds are rough and wild,
The birds bave ceased their calling;
But let me tell you, my child,
Though day by day, as it closes,
Doth darker and colder grow,
The roots of the bright red roses
Will keep alive in the SHOW.
And when the winter is over
The boughs will get new leaves ;
The quail will corne back to the clover,
And the swallow back to the eaves.
The robin will wear on his bosom
A vest that is bright and new,
And the loveliest wayside blossoms
Will shine with the sun and dew.
The leaves to-day are whirling,
The brooks are all dry and dumb;
But let me tell you, my darling,
The spring will be sure to corne.
ALXCr. CaY
HE GOOD AMARITAN
THE GOOD SAMARITAN
A CERTAIN man went down from Jerusalem
to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which
stripped him of his raiment, and wounded
him, and departed, leaving him hah" dead.
And by chance thcre came down a certain
priest that way: and when he saw him, he
pa.sed by on thc other side.
And likewise ,-t Levite, when he was at
the place, came and looked on him, and
passed by on the other side.
But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed,
came where ho wa,s : and when he saw him,
he hail compassion on him.
And went to him, and bound up his
wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set
him on his own beast, and brought him to
an inn, and took care of him.
And on the morrow when he departeà, he
took out two pence, and gave them îo the
host, and said unto him, Take care of him;
and wbatsoever thou spendest more, when I
corne again I will repay thee.
Whieh now of these three, thinkest thou,
was neighbom" unto him that fell among the
thieves?
IS. LvK, X. 30-36
SOMEBODY'S IIOTHER
Tw woman was old, and ragged, and gray,
And bent with the chill of the winter's day;
The street was wet with a recent snow,
And the woman's feet were aged and slow.
She stood at the crossing, and waited long,
A]one, uncared for, amid the throng
Of human beings who passed her by,
lor heeded the glance of her anxious eye.
Down the street, with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of" school let out,"
Came the boys, like a fiock of sheep,
Hailing the snow, piled white and deep.
Past the woman so old and gray
Hastened the children on their way;
Nor offered a helping hand to ber»
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir,
SOMEBODY'S MOTHER 67
Lest the carriage wheels or the horses' feet
8hould knock her down in the slippery street
At last came one of the merry troop
The gayest laddie of all the group ;
He paused beside her and whispered low:
"l'll help you across if you wish to go."
tIer aged hand on his strong young arm
She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,
He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.
Then back to his friends again he went,
tIis young heart happy and well content.
"She's omebody's mother, boys, you know,
For all she's aged, and poor, and slow ;
"And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand,
" If ever she's poor, and old, and gray,
When her own dear boy is far away."
And "somebody's mother" bowed low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said
Was, "God be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebody's son, and pride, and joy."
68 SECOND IREADER
THE RABBIT'S TRICK
O-OE dav Brother Ilabbit was running along
the sea-shore when he saw a Whale and an
Elephant talkhg together. He erouehed
de»wh and listened to what they were saying,
and tlfis is what he heard:
"You are the biggest animal on the land,
Brother Elephant," said the Whale, "and I
ara the biggest one in the sea; if we work
together, we ean rule all the animals and do
ju.t as we please."
"Excellent," said the Elephant; "that
just suits me; we'll do it."
The Ilabbit smiled. "Thev will hot rule
me," he said. Off he ran and soon came
baek with a long strong rope and a big
drum. He hid the drmn some distanee
away in the bushes. Then he mn along
the shore till he met the Whale.
"Brother W'hale," said he, "will you do
me a favour? My cow is stuck in the mud
away back in the bushes, and I ara hot
THE RABBIT'S TRICK 69
strong enough to pull her out. -May I ask
you to help me ?"
"Certainly," said the Whale, "I shall be
glad to assist you."
"Then," said the Rabbit, "let me tie this
end of my rope round you, and I will run
back into the bushes and tie the other end
round my cow, and vhen I have done that, I
will beat on my (h-um. You will have to pull
hard, for the cow is down deep in the mud."
"PshawI" said the Whale, "I will pull
her out even if she is covered to the tips of
her horns."
The Rabbit tied the rope to the Whale
and ran off as fast as he could to the place
where the Elephant was feeding.
"Dear Mr. Elephant," said he, "will you
do me a kindness ?"
"What do you want?" asked the Ele-
phant.
"My cow is stuck in the mud some dis-
tance down on the shore, and I ara not
strong enough to pull her out. hlay I ask
you to help me ?"
70 ECOND IEADF__
"Why, of course," said the Elephant.
"Then," said the Rabbit, "let me tic the
end of this rope to yotLr trank and the other
to mv cow, and when I bave donc this, I wfll
beat on my big drain. When you hear that,
pull with all yom" might, for the cow is a
large one."
"Nonsense," said the Elephant. "I
could pull a dozen cows."
"I feel sm'e of that," said the labbit,
"only do not pull too hard at first."
When he had tied the rope about the
Elephant's trank, he ran back to a little
hill in the bushes, where he could sec what
was about to happen, and began to beat the
drum.
Whale and Elephant began at once to pull.
"A remarkably heavy cow," said the
Elephant, as he braced himself, "but out
she mu.st corne."
"Well, well!" said the Whale, "that cow
must be far down in the mud."
Hard as the Whale pulled, the Elephant
pulled harder, for he had a more solid foot-
THE RABBIT'S TRICK 71
ing. Presently the 3aale found himself
sliding towards the shore. As he neared
the land, he became so inclinant at the
thought of that cow, that he plunged violent-
ly head foremost to the bottom. This jerked
the Elephant off his feet, and 1,efore he could
recover himself, he was pullcd right clown to
the edge of the water. He was fm'ious.
Just then the 'nale ceased 1,ulling for an
instant, and the Elephant leaped back with
a jerk that brought the Whale to the sur-
face of the water.
"What do you suppose you are 1)ulling
on?" shouted the Whale.
"Wllat are you doing with that tope?"
roared the Elephant.
"I will teach you to 1,1ay cow," said the
Elephant.
"And I will sliow you how to trick me,"
said the Whale.
Each put forth all his strength, but the
rope broke and heels over head tumbled
Elephant and W-hale. This ruade them
72 SECOD RE-kDER
both so ashamed and angry that it broke up
the bargain between them.
And that little Rabbit in the
elared that he had never had
his lire.
bushes de-
such fun in
HOW THE WIND BLOW8
Hmr and low
The Spring winds blow!
They take the kites that the boys have made,
And carry them off high into the air ;
They snatch the little girls' bats away,
And toss and tangle their flowing hair.
IO%V THE 'IND BLOV'S 73
High and low
The Summer winds blow!
They dance and play with the garden flowers,
And bend the grasses and yellow grain;
And rock the bird in her hanging nest,
And dash the rain on the window-pane.
High and low
The Autumn winds blow!
They frighten the becs and the blossoms away,
And whirl the dry leaves over the ground ;
They shake the branches of all the trees,
And scatter ripe nuts and apples around.
High and low
The Winter winds blow!
They fill the hollows with drifts of snow,
And sweep on the hills a pathway clear ;
They hurry the children along to school,
And whistle a song for the happy New Year.
A wise son maketh a glad father; but a
foolish son is the heaviness of his mother.
PaovERm% X
SECOND READER
THE STORY OF JOSEPH
Ix the land of Canaan there once lived a
man nalned Jacob, who had twelre sons.
Now he loved his youngest son, Joseph,
more than all his other children; and he ruade
tbr him a coat of mlnr colours.
When Joseplfs brothers saw that he was
loved by his father more than they were,
thev lmted him.
Now Joseph's brothers were once away
from home, feeding their flocks, and Jacob
sent Joseph on a message to them.
When his brothers saw him afar off, they
said among themselves- "Corne, let us slay
h ira and cast him into some pit."
But his eldest brother, leuben, said- "Let
us not kill him; shed no blood, but cast him
into this pit."
-hen Joseph came up to them, they seized
him, stripped off his coat of many colours,
and ca.t him into the pit.
oon after this, they saw some merchants
who were going to Egypt, and they said:
"Corne, and let us sell him, and let not our
THE STORY OF JOSEPH 75
hand be upon him, for he is out brother."
So they liftcd Joseph out of the pit and sold
him for twenty pieces of silver.
Thon thcy took Joscph's coat, and having
killcd u goat, dipl)cd the coat in its bh)od.
Thcy brought the staincd coat to thcir fathcr,
who, whcn he saw it, said: "It is my s»n's
coat; an evil bcast hath devom'ed him."
And Jacob mourncd for Joseph many days.
The merchants took Joseph to Egypt and
sold him as u slave. His ma.tcr "saw that
the Lord was with him and ruade all that he
did to prospcr." At lait evcn the king of
Egypt sent for Joseph and ruade him ruler
over his bouse and then over all the land.
All this time Joseph ncver heard word
about his father or his brçthers.
Now u great famine came to those coun-
tries in the East, and it lasted seven years.
But Joseph, who had been told l»y God what
was coming, had, dm'ing seven years of
plenty, gathered up all the food he could.
Whcn the famine came, the whole land of
Egypt had plenty of food and enough to sell
to othcrs.
7( SECOND RE.-k DER
So people came from distant lands to
Eg)3»t to buy co. Among others, Joseph's
own brethren came, ten of them; but they
did not know who the Goveor of
was, although as soon as Joseph saw them,
he kncw at once who they were.
Thcy told Jos:l»h, whcn he had asked
about their family, that they had left their
younger brother, Benjamin, at home with
thcir father. Then he filled their sacks with
COl, and told them to go home and bring
!,ack their youngest brother with them. The
moncy they had paid him for the co, he
ordcred tobe put back into the sacks.
On thc way home, one of them found his
money in his sack, and they were all afraid.
When thcy reached home and emptied their
sacks, every man found his money there; and
they were all more aïraid thau ever.
To make sure that his brothers would
return to Egypt, Jo.scph had allowed only
nine to return home, and Simeon he kept.
Theh" father, Jacob, was grieved that the
lord of ETl»t had kept one of his sons and
had sent also for Benjamin.
When they had eaten all the corn they
had brought back from Egypt, Jacob said to
his sons: "Go agill; buy us little tbod."
But Joseph had said to thcm: "Ye shall
hot see my face except your brother be with
you." So Jacob sent Benjamin with thcm,
and he sent d»uble money fi»r corn, to make
p for the money that had ben put back in
the sacks.
When they ar:ived in Egypt, they were
afraid to corne belote Joseph on account of
the money which had been retm:ned in their
scks. When they told the story al)»ut thc
money to Josepb's ste-a'd, he said to them :
"Peace bc with you; fcar not: your G»d and
the God of your father hath given you
treasure in your sacks."
Then the bl'othcrs were taken into Joseph's
bouse, and they bowed to the earth bcfi)re
him. He asked them how they were and
then inquired: "Is your father well, the old
man of whom ye sl)ake? Is he yet alive ?"
Vhen he saw that they hd brought his
brother Benjamin, he was much pleased. At
first Joseph did hot tell them who he was,
78 SECOND READER
but after a long rime, he sm'prised them and
ruade them more afraid than ever, when he
sent evcryl,ody but his brothers away from
him and declared to them" "I ara Joseph,
vmr },rother,_ whom ve sold into Egypt. ." But
ho addcd: "Bc not grievcd nor angry with
yml'»clves, that ye sold me hither- fur God
did cnd me 1,cri)re wm to pre.>crve life."
Aftcr êxplaining how he came to be
g,vêrnor of Egypt, he said" "Ye shall tell
mv fithcr of all mv glory in Egypt and of
all that ve bave sccn; and ye shall hastê and
bring down mv Ihther hither." Then he
ki.s»ed all his ],rothers and talked with them.
Soon aft«r this, Josel,h sent wagons for
Jacol and all his people and his goods. And
the king of Egyl,t gave Jacob and his sons
a large tract of country fi»r themselves, and
thev lived thcre with their flocks and herds
il 1,eace and 1,1enty.
There is nothing so kingly as kindness;
There is nothing so royal as truth.
A CHILD'S SONG OF CHRIST3IAS 9
A CHILD'S SONG OF CHRISTMAS
MY counterpane is soft as silk,
My blankets white as creamy milk ;
The hay was soft to Him, I know,
Our little Lord of long ago.
Above the roof the pigeons fly
In silver wheels across the sky;
The stable-doves they cooed to them,
Mary and Christ in Bethlehem.
Bright shines the sun across the drifts,
And bright uion my Christmas gifts;
They brought Him incense, myrrh, and go]d,
Our little Lord who lived of old.
Oh, soft and clear our mother sings
Of Christmas joys and Christmas things ;
God's holy angels sang to them,
Mary and Christ in Bethlehem.
Our hearts they hold all Christmas dear,
And earth seems sweet, and heaven
seems near ;
Oh, heaven was in His sight, I know,
That little Child of lng ago.
.LkRJORIE L. C. PICKTtLL
SECOND READER
IIDING ]EHIND IE[NDEEtL
Wlto has hot heard of Santu Claus and his
wondeçul reindeer? How wc wished that we
could catch one glimp,e of "-, wrappcd up
in his furs and dlving his prancing steeds!
Let us take a winter tp to Lapland, which
lies east of the northen part of Sweden.
ttere we shall actually see reindeer harnessed
to sleds and pulling them over the snow.
Lapland is a cold, bleak country, where
little grows. The Laplanders have been
crowded fmoEher and fmher north, until
now they live in u region where only the
most hardy people could.exist. During the
long, cold winter the stm is bclow the
horizon most of the rime, just as it is in
Esldmo land.
The summer dwellings of the Lal,landers
are ruade of the skins of the rcindeer. The
winter homes are ruade of wool and stones
nearly covered with earth. This is neces-
sary in ortier to kcel» out thc cold.
If you were to enter ont of these huts,
you would be invited fo sit down on u rein-
dcer-skin, for the peoplc d» n,,t have chair,s.
Over
large iron kcttlc. Hanging froln
u cradle of deer-sldn ruade in the form of a
shoe. In it is utiny Lapp baby. Thc
clothes of the different membel of the
family uro in large part furnished by the
reindeer.
In our country we reckon the wealth of
family in money and lands. The wealth of
tho Lapps i reckoned in reindeer. Some
SECOND READER
very rich families own as many as one
thousand, while some poor families own less
than a hundred.
Reindeer are from four to rive feet high.
They are brown above and lighter in colore"
below, and are darker in summer than in
winter. The horns or antlers aie branched.
When the feet are placed on the ground, the
toes spad apart making the hoofs wider.
On this account the animais do not sink
into the ShOW as much as they otherwise
would. The chief fo,»d of the reindeer is a
light-colomed moss. This the deer will final
even in the winter by cleang away the
snow with feet and nose. This saine moss
grws in Siberia and nooEhern Alaska, and
in each of these regions reindeer are very
ira 1 ,ooEant.
In addition to furnishing food and material
for the making of tents and clothing, the
reindeer supply their owners with milL
Euch cow gives a very small quantity, but
lhe milk is rich. Generally the girls and
vomen do the milking, while the men hold
RIDING BEHIND IEINDEER 8
the animals by means of a sho rope or
strap. From the mflk the women make
cheese.
The Laplanders travel from place to place
in order to final pastm'age ibr their bords.
On these trips the household goods are
carried by the reindeer, and the peol»le
themselves ride. The loads are hot placed
on the backs or"/he animals, for/heir lacks
seem tobe weak, but rather at the base of
the neck.
When ShOW and ice cover the ground, the
Laplander travels in his sied. This is 1,ng,
low, and nalEOW, and looks a little hke a
boat. Itis pointed at the front end. The
Laplander sits in his sied, as you nfight sit
on the floor with your ïeet straight out be-
lote vou. Then he wraps his robe of rein-
deer-skin about him, and is ready for his
dfive.
Of course, only a few of the reindeer are
trained to drw sleds. Those that are tobe
used in this way a enerally selected when
they are lwns. They are petted by ail of the
84 EECOND READER
members of the family, and beeome quite tame.
The harnes used is very simple. - great
eollar is fastened about the neck of the
animal. 'ound the body there is a band
or gioEh. A single tug or trace is fastned
to these below the mindeer's body, and alto
fastened to the front end of the sleigh.
When the animal travels, the trace is be-
tween its legs.
I SUl»l»Oe you have pietured Santa Claus
driving with two reins,just as we do. The
Laplander uses but one. 8tranger still.
this one rein i. hot attached to a bit, but to
the ]_,a.e of the reindeer's horns. This single
rein the driver holds twisted about his right
hand. He guides the reindeer by jer-king at
the rein and talking.
Reindeer eannot draw a very heavy load.
With one pssenger and little baggage,
they will skim over the ShOW af the rate of
about ten mlles an hour. How strange it
would seem to live in land where there
are no trains, no street cars, and no carriages.
/t8Itl,AL : "How We TraveL"
HOW THE LEVE {A, ME DOWN 5
HOW THE LEAVES CAME DOWN
I'LL tell you how the leaves came down.
The great Tree to his children said :
"You're getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown,
Yes, very sleepy, Little Red,
It's quite time you went to bed."
"Ah," begged each silly, pouting leaf,
" Let us a little longer stay ;
Dear Father Tree, behold our grief;
'Tis such a very pleasant day
We do hot want to go away."
So, just for one more merry day
To the great Tree the leaflets clung,
Frolicked and danced and had their way,
Upon the autumn breezes swung,
Whispering all their sports among :
"Perhaps the great Tree will forget,
And let us stay until the spring,
If we all beg and coax and fret."
But the great Tree did no such thing;
He smiled to hear their whispering.
SECOND READER
"Corne, children all, to bed," he cried ;
And, ere th leaves could urge their prayer,
He shook his head, and far and wide,
Fluttering and rustling everywhere,
Down sped tte leaflets through the a[r.
I saw them ; on the ground they lay,
Golden and red, a luddled swarm,
Waiting till one from far away,
White bed-clothes heaped upon her arm,
Should corne to wrap them safe and warm.
The great bare Tree looked down and smiled.
"Good-night, dear little leaves," he said,
And from below each sleepy child
Replied : "Good-night," and murmured:
"It is so nice to go to bed."
THE BOY AND THE SQUIRREL
As I was going to school one morning, a squir-
rel ran into its hole in the path beIbre me.
Now here was a chance for fua. As there
was a stream just at hand, I determined to
THE BOY AND THE SQUIRREL 7
pour water into the-hole till it shoulà be full
and so force the S«luirrel up in order that
I ndght kill him.
I got a bucket fl'om beside a sugar-maple
and began to pour water into the h,le. In
a slloloE tilne [ heard the Sll'rel tl'yilg t
get up, and said" "Ah, nly tllow, I shall
8o011 bave yoil ilt IIW. '
Just then [ heard a voice lehhM me"
"Well, my loy, wha have vou g,t in
therè?" I tm'ned and saw «,ne of mv neigh-
lours, a good old man with l mg white loeks,
who had seen sixtv winters.
"Why," said I, "I bave a gromM squirrel
in here, and ara going t drmn him out."
",John," said he, "when I was a boy,
more than fifty years ago, I was engaged
Olm day, just as you are, dmwning a gr, mnd
bluirrel; and an old man like me came
along, and said to me- ' 1 arè a fittle boy;
now, if you were down in a narrow hole like
that, and [ houhl cmm ahmg and pour
water down on you to drown you. would hot
you thk I was eêl ? God mme tha fittle
SECOND RFLDER
squirrel, and life is as sweet to him as it is
to you; and why will you torture to death a
little innocent creature that Goal has ruade ?'"
He said: "I have never forgotten that, and
never shall. I never bave "killed any harm-
less creature for fun since. Now, my dear
boy, I want you to bcar this in mind while
vou lire, and when teml»ted to kill any poor
little animal or bird, remember that God
does hot allow us to -kill His creatures for
That was forty years ago, but I ha e hot
tbrgotten what the old man said.
O LITTLE TOWN OF BETHLEHEM
O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie I
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light ;
The hopes and fears of all tho years
Are met in thee to-night.
TVO 'AYS OF LOOKING AT IT 89
For Christ is born of Mary ;
And, gathered all above,
While mortals sleep, the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love.
O morning stars, together
Proclaim the holy birth,
And praises sing to God the King,
And peace to men on earth.
How silently, how silently
The wondrous Gift is given !
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of His heaven.
No ear may hear His coming ;
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him, still
The dear Christ enters in.
P]ILLPS ROOKS
TWO WAYS OF LOOKING AT IT
"WHAT'S the matter?" said Growler fo the
tal,l,y car, as ,he sat moping on the stop of
the kitchcn door.
"Mattcr enough," said the car, ttu'ning
ber head another way. "0ur cook is very
0 SECOND IEADER
tbnd of talking of hanging me. I wish
heartily some one would bang her."
"Why, what [s the matter ?" repeated
Growler.
" Hasn't she leaten nm, and ealled me a
thief, and threatened to be the death of
" Dear, dear I" said Growler, "pray
what bas lroaaght it al»out?"
"Oh, nothing at all; it as ber tenq)er.
All the se-ants complain t,f it. I wonder
thcy haven't hangcd ber long ago."
"WelI, you see," said Growler, "cooks are
awkvaa'd ihings to bang; )-ou and I might
be managed much lnOl'e caily."
"'ot a da'op of milk bave I had this
da)-," said the tabby cat, "and such a pain
in lny side! "
" But what," said Grovler, "what as the
cause ?"
"Havcn't I told you?" said the cat,
pettishly. "It's her retaper--oh, what I
bave had to surfer ff'oto it! Everything
she breaks, she lays to me,--verything
TWO WAYS OF LOOKING AT IT 91
that is stolen, she lays to me. Really, it is
unbearable
Growlcr was quite indignant; but being
,u reflcctive tu,'n, after thc fi,'.t gust
wrath had 1)a.scd, ho askcd: "But was there
no 1)articular cause this mofing ?"
"She cho.c to bc vcry angry becausc
I ofibnded her," said thc cat.
"How, nmy I ask't" gently inquircd
Growlcr.
"Oh. nothing worth telling--a mere mi.-
take of n,inc."
Growler lo(»ked at her with such ,'t ques-
tioning expression, that she was coml)ellcd
to sa)" "I took the wrong thing for my
breakfast."
', Oh!" said Growler, much enlightened.
"Why, thc fact was," said the tabby cat,
"I was Sl)inging at a mouse and knocked
down dish, and, not knowing exactly what
it was, I smelt it, and it was rather nice,
and--"
"You finished it," hinted Growler.
"Well, I believe I should have done so, if
SECOND RF_.a. DER
that meddlesome cook hadn't corne in. As
it was, I left the head."
"The head of what ?" said Growler.
"How inquisitive you are!" said the car.
"Nay, but I should like to -know," said
Growler.
"Well, then, of certain fine fish that
vas meant for dinner."
"Then," said Growler, "say what you
please; but, now that I have heard both
sides of the stoT, I only wonder she did hot
lmng you."
kIRY Dvs
INDIAN SUMMER
ALo-TG the line of smoky hills
The crimson forest stands,
And all the day the blue-jay calls
Throughout the autumn lands.
Now by the brook the maple leans
With all his glory spread,
And all the sumacs on the hills
Have turned their green to recL
Now by great narshes wrapped in mist,
Or past some river's mouth,
Throughout the long, still autumn day
Wild birds are flying south.
W. ILFRED CAMPBELb
THE FOX AND THE GRAPES
A fox was almost famishing with hunger and
thir.t. Looking up, he slicd s,me large
clusters of ripe grapes. "What luck !" he
said. "If only thcy were n,t so high."
Jumping into the air, ho nearly reacbed
the lowe,t cluster. He fell with , thnmp to
the grotmd, but said : "l'll do better next
rime."
Again and again he tried, but with all his
eflbrts he did'not succeed. He gradually lost
strength, and gave up in disgust.
Finally, he walkcd off slowly, grumbling
as he went: "The grapes are sour, I ara
sure, and hot fit fi»r a fox's palate.
theln to the greedy birds, who are
with anything."
I'll leave
satisfied
.SOP
8ECOND RADR
ANDROCLUS AND THE LION
Iy the great city of Rome, there lived many
years ago a poor slave named Androclus.
Ve O- tea'ible things he suffcrcd at the hand,
of his cruel toaster, until unable to bear his
miscries any longer, he ran away and hid in
the ibrests that lay beyond the city walls.
But little could he find to eat in the woods,
and each day growing wcaker, he at last
ANDROCLUS AND THE L/ON 95
crept into a cave to die. Stmtched upon
the floor he fell into a deep sleep, whence he
was awakened by the roaring of a lion who
entered the cave, limping, and in gTeat pain.
Andmclus saw that there was a large
thom in the lion's paw. Though much
afraid he took the paw in his hands and.
with a qtàck, strong pull, drew out the thorax.
Immediately the pain was relieved. The
lion licked Androclus' hands, rubbed
head against him, and lay down at his feet.
Anch'oclus was no longer afraid. That night
lion and slave slept, sidc by side.
Next mozfing the lion went out into the
woods, but soon came back l4nging with
him food for Androclus. This he did for
many days, and the .lave was happier in
thc cave than he had ever been in his
ma.ter's bouse.
At lenh, Roman soldiers, travelling
through the woods, found .ndroclus and
brought him back to l?ome. According to
the law, slaves who ran away must fight
with wild animals in a lng beibre the
SECOND IEA.DER
people. To make these animals fiercer no
ibod svas given fir durs beibrehand.
Into the ring, then, they brought Andro-
clus on an al»l)ointed da)-. Thousands of
people sat above oa rai.sêd seats to watch
the fight. No one uttered a {-ord of pity
fi»r the poor slave. A door la the wall
opened, and a hung." lion leaped in. With
a r«ar, he ru.-_hed t,wards the slave who
leaped lightly aside as the lion sprang upon
him. Thea u strange thing happened.
There was a c T of joy from the slave as he
tllrew his mus about the lion, who licked
his hands. Leaning against him Androclus
fuced the people. The old flends had met
OllCe more.
The crowd gazed in astonishment, and
asked )oadroclus 'hat marc power he had
over the beast. Then Androclus told them
of his misery with his toaster, and of his
tlappy days in the cave. "I ara a man,"
said he, "yet no man has been kind to me.
It has remained for wild beast to love and
protect me." The hearts of the people were
THE DUEL 97
noved, and they cl'ied with a l)ud v¢,icc:
"Lift for the slave and the lion! Frcedom
tbr both."
So Androclus bccame a free man, and for
years after he and his lion were among the
sights of old Rome.
A Ro,' T.4JE
THE DUEL
THE gingham dog and the calico car
Side by side on the table sat ;
'Twas half-past twelve, and (what do you think ! )
Nor one nor t'other had slept a wink !
98 SECO'D READER
The old Dutch clock and the Chinese plate
Appeared fo know as sure as rate
There was going to be a terrible spat.
(/w«sn't there; I simply st«/e
What .u,as told to ".e by t/te Chinese plate !)
The gingham dog went "bow-wow-wow I "
And the calico art replied "mee-ow !"
The air. was littered, an hour or so,
With bits of gingham and calico,
While the oh] Dutch clock in the chimney-place
Up with its hands before its face,
For it always dreaded a family row !
(Xbw mind : I'm onl# tellirg yo
What the old Datch cloclc decl«rcs is true !)
The Chinese plate looked very blue,
And wailed : " Oh, dear ! what shall we do !"
But the gingham dog and the calico cat
Wallowed this way and tumbled that,
Employing every tooth and claw
In the awfullest way you ever saw
And, oh ! how the gingham and calico flew !
(Don't .fincy I ex«gger«te !
I got ny viewsfro» the Chinese plate !)
Next morning where the two had sat
They round no trace of the dog or cat;
THE LOST CAMEL 99
And some folks think unto this day
That burglars stole the pair away !
But the truth about the cat and the pup
Is this : They ate each othe.r up !
Now what do you really think of thatl
( The old Dutch clock it lohl e so,
And that is how I came to knou,.)
EUGEE FIELD
THE LOST CAMEL
_A_ DER¥ISH W¢qS travelling ahme in the
when he met two merchants.
"You hure lost u camel," said he to the
merchants.
"Indeed we have," they replied.
"Was he not blind in his fight eye, and
lame in his left leg?" asked the dela-ish.
"He was," replied the memhants.
"Had he lost a front tooth?" asked the
dervi.h.
"He had," answemd the merchants.
"And was he not laden with honey on
one side, and corn on the other?"
10o
SECOND READER
"Most certainly he was," they rejoined,
"and as you have seen him so lately, you
can, of course, lead us to him."
"My iiends," the dervish said, "I have
never seen your camel, nor have I heard of
him, except through yourselves."
"A l»retty story, t1ly!" cried the mer-
chants. "¥ou mu,st have seen him. And
where are the jewels which formed a part
of his burden ?"
"I have never seen your camel, nor your
]ewels," repeated the dervish.
Upon this they scized him and took him
to the Cadi to be judged; but, on the strict-
est search, nothing could be found against
him. Nothing was found to prove him
guilty of either falsehood or theft.
"He is macian.!" exclaimed the mer-
chants.
But the delwish calmly said to the Cadi:
"I see that you are sm])fised, and that
you l»elieve that I am deceiving you. Per-
haps I have given you cause for such belief.
I hve lived long and alone in the desert,
TFtE COMIX=G OF $PRIG 101
but I hae lemed to see and to think.
"I knew that I had crossed the track of a
camel that had straved from its owner be-
cause I saw its footpl4nts, but no trace of a
human being. I -knew the animal was
bhnd in one eye because it had croppcd the
herbage on only one side of the path. And
I knew it was lame in one leg because one
fo»t had ruade but a faint impression upon
the sand.
"I also concluded that the animal had
lost one tooth I,ecause, -herever it had
grazed, a small tuft of herbage in the centre
of its bite was left mtouched. I knew that
which lbrmed the lurden of the beast,
the busy ants told me that it was co'n on
the one side, and the cluste4ng flics that it
was honey on the other."
THE COMING OF SPRING
,t SPRING, where are you tarrying now ?
Vhy are you so long unfelt ?
Winter went a month ago
When tho snows began to melt"
102 SECOrD READER
"I ara coming, ]ittle maiden,
With the pleasant sunshine laden :
With the honey for the bee,
With the blossom for the tree,
With the flowers and with the leaf.
Till I corne the time is brief.
"I am coming, I am coming!
Hark! the little bee is humming;
See, the lark is soaring high
In the bright and sunny sky,
And the gnats are on the wing.
Little maiden, now is spring !
"See, the yellow catkins cover
All the slender willows over;
And on mossy banks so green
Starlike primroses are seen ;
And, their clustering leaves below,
White and purple violets grow.
" Harkl the little lambs are bleating,
And the cawing rooks are meeting
In the elms, a noisy crowd ;
And all birds are singing loud;
And the first white butterfly
In the sun goes flitting by.
THZ COMING OF SPRING 103
"Little maiden, look around thee !
Green and flowery fields surround thee;
Every little stream is bright,
All the orchard trees are white,
And each small and waving shoot
Has for thee sweet flower or fruit.
"Turn thy eyes to earth and heaven !
God for thee the spring hath given,
Taught the birds their melodies,
Clothed the earth and eleared the skies,
For thy pleasure or thy food.
Pour thy soul in gratitude!
Somay'st thou 'mid blessings dwell.
Little maiden, fare thee well ! "
]I).RY HOWITT
BEIIOLD the fowls of the ait" fc»r they sow
not, neither do they reap, nor gather into
barns; yet y«mr heavenly Falher feedeth
them. Are ye not mueh 1,etter than they ?
And why take ye thought fc, r raiment?
Consider the lilies of the field, how they
gl'oW; they toil not, ncithcr do they spin-
And yet I say unto you, that even Sololnon
in ai1 his glory was hot arrayed like one of
these, s. MaTn.w, ri. 26, 28, 29
10]: SECOND
A GENTLEMAN OF TEN
I knew him for a gentleman
By signs that never fail ;
His coat was rough and rather worn,
His cheeks were rhin and pale
A lad who had his way to make,
With little rime for play;
I knew him for a gentleman
By certain signs to-day.
I-Ie met his mother on the street--
Off came his little cap;
My door was shut---he waited there
Until I heard his rap;
He took the bundle from my hand;
And when I dropped my pen,
tte sprang to pick it up for me--
This gentleman of ten.
He does not push the crowd along;
His voice is gently pitched ;
He does hot fiing his books about
As if he were bewitched ;
He stands aside to let you pass;
He always shuts the door;
He runs on êrrands willingly,
To forge, and mill, and store.
THE SLUGGARD 105
tte thinks of you before himself;
He serves you if he can;
For, in hatever company,
The manners make the man;
At ten or forty, 'tis the saine ;
The manners tell the tale;
And I discern the gentleman
By signs that never rail.
LkRGARET E. SANOSTER
THE SLUGGARD
Go to the ant, thou Sluggard ;
Consider her ways, and be wise:
Which having no chief,
Overseer,
Or ruler,
Provideth ber meat in the summer,
And gathereth her food in the harvest.
How long wilt thou sleep, 0 Sluggard ?
When wilt thou arise out of thy sleep ?
"Yet little sleep,
A little slumber,
A little folding of the hands to sleep "--
So shall thy poverty corne as a robber,
And thy want as an armed man !
PIOVERBS, V[
106 SECO.N'D READER
A FAIRY WENT A-MARKETING
A fairy went a-marketing--
She bought a little fish ;
She put it in a crystal bowl
Upon a golden dish.
An hour she sat in wonderment
And watched its silver gleam,
And thén she gently took it up
And slipi)ed it in a stream.
A fairy went a-marketing--
She bought a coloured biM ;
It sang the sweetest, shrillest song
That ever she had heard.
She sat béside its painted cage
And listened half the day,
And then she opened wide the door
And let it fly away.
A fairy went a-marketing--
She bought a winter gown
All stitched about with gossamer
And lined with thistledown.
She wore it all the afternoon
With prancing and delight,
Then gave it to a little frog
To keep him warm at night.
A NIGHT wrrH A W0IW 107
A fairy went a-marketingq
She bought a gentle mouse
To take ber tiny messages,
To keep hcr tiny bouse.
All day she kei,t its busy feet
Pit-patting to and fro,
And then she kissed its silken ears,
Thanked it, and let it go.
ROSE FYLEMAN
A NIGHT WITH A WOLF
LITTLE one, come to my knee!
Hark lmw the rain is pouring
Over the roof, in the pitch-black night,
And the wind in the woods a-roaring !
Hush, my darling, and listen,
Then pay for the story with kisses:
Father was lost in the pitch-black night,
In just sueh a storm as this is !
High up on the lonely mountains,
Where the wild men watched and waited ;
V¢olves in the forest, and bears in the bush,
And I on my path belated.
The rain and the night together
Came down, and the wind came after,
Bending the props of the pine-tree roof,
And snapping many a rafter.
I crept along in the darkness,
Stunned, and bruised, and blinded--
Crept to a tir with thickset boughs,
And a sheltering rock behind it.
There, from the blowing and raining,
Crouching, I sought to bide me:
Something rustled, two green eyes shone,
And a wolf lay down beside me.
Little one, be not frightened ;
I and the wolf together,
Side by side, through the long, long night,
Hid from the awful weather.
His wet fur pressed against me ;
Each of us warmed the other"
Each of us felt, in the stormy dark,
That beast and man was brother.
And,when the falling forest
No longer crashed in warning,
Each of us went from our hiding-place
Forth in the wild, wet morning.
IN ANCIENT BRITAIN 109
Darling, kiss me in payment !
Hark how the wind is roaring :
Father's house is a better place
When the stormy rain is pouring!
BAYARD TAYLOR
IN ANCIENT BRITAIN
Do you know people who have lived in Eng-
land, that beautiful land beyond the sea?
Let me tell you about that land and its
people in far-off days.
Two thousand years ago that country was
wild, and its people little better than
I I0 8ECOh'D READER
savages. Great ri)tests, full of streams and
bogs, covered mo.st of the land. In these
forests were many beasts--bears, wolves,
bi,al's, wild-cats, and deer. The rivers
teemed with fih.
There were no towns there; no houses of
brick or .tone; no churches, no schools, no
ihctofies; no farm., no gardens; no rail-
way., no street.; no gold or silver or Pal)er
la»ney. IIel'e and there in the dense fil'e.ts
little patehes of land were eleared of trees
and ,'t little village of buts btfilt up. To
protect a s-filage fl',m its enemies, a treneh
was dug aromd it, and in.side the treneh an
earthen wall was l_,filt, and on the wall was
erected a strong fente of trtmks of trees.
The hou.-_es were ,mall, rotmd buts ruade
of bl'anche.s of ri'ces woven together fike
ba. ket-Solk," . - - - and 1,1a.tered on the out»ide
with 1,ud to keep out the wind and the
tain. The l'«ot were eovered with rushes or
straw. There were no windows and no
ehimney.s in these houses. The tire was
built in the middlê of the room on the
I ACIET RITAIN 111
ealhen floor,and the smoke eseaped through
a hole in the roofi The beds were of sort
moss covercd with deer-skins. The tables
were large blocks of wood, and the di,hes
were ruade of wood or clay. Watcr was
boiled in emoEhcn pots by dropping l'ed-hot
stones into it.
The people who lived in these houses
were cailcd Britons. They were tall, with
blue eycs and fait hair. They wcrc clad in
the skins of anilnals, , single 1)ear-s-kin or
wolf-skin tistcncd about the waist by a
girdle being the only garment. Neither
eal)s nor boots wel'e worn. They stained
their breasts, arms, and faces blue to make
themselves more beautiful. Near the sea
some Biffons grew a littlc eorn and some
had small hcrds of eattle, but baek in the
f)rc.sts thcy lived on what they eaught by
hunting and fishing.
The file «»f an early Briton was hard and
rough--one long struggle with the 1)easts of
the forests and the mon of the tribes about
him. He had tiw of the eomtbrts of life as
SECOND READER
we know them, yet it is through his work
and the work of others who lived after him
lhat England has lccome a land of plenty
and beauty, a land of homes.
HE AND SHE
"Now, where are you going so fast, little maid ?
Now where are you going so soon ?"
"I'm going tobe a great Queên, sir," she rid,
"In the land of the Silver Spoon !
HE AND SHE 113
I'm tired of spelling, of chickens, of bees ;
I'm tired of sewing a seam;
So I'm going for ever to do as I please,
And eat only peaches and crealn ! "
"And where are yole going, my fine little man?
And where are you going so fast ?"
"Out on the sea, just as quick as I can,
To stand at the front of the mast !
I'm tired of seven times four, sir," ¢luoth he,
" And lessons are ueless and old ;
An Admiral Pirate I'm going to be,
With a vessel of purple and gold !"
Then passed the folk busily early and late
Till daylight grew red in the west,
And the «lueer bent man by the old toll-gate
Sat him down on a stump to rest.
When up the long highway there suddenly sped
Two wanderers hastening near ;
And one--he was hanging a sorrowful head ;
And one--she was sobbing with fear.
" Now, whither art coming, my dear little maid ?
Now, whither art coming ?" quoth he.
"Oh ! straight home to bed, six," she sobbingly
said,
"And to get some nice porridge and tea!
For the road to the Fairy Tale Spoon, sir, I
ween,
It is barder than ever l'll tell,
And would you believe it? there isn't a queen
Who doesn't just know how to spell."
"And whither art coming, my fine little man ?"
That funny old man spake he.
"Oh, I'm going right home," said the traveller
Sa(|,
"To study a book on the sea!
Of purple and gold I have found nota speck,
But toilers with rope and with oar--
And there isn't an admiral walking a deck
Who doesn't know seven times four!"
xRGINIA ,OODWARD Ç_'LOt'D
THE SQUIRREL
When cold winter cornes,
2['nd the trees are bare;
When the white ShOW is falling,
And keen is the air;
He heeds it hot,
As he sits by himself,
In his warm little bouse,
With his nuts on his shelf.
THE PRICE OF A FISH 115
THE PRICE OF A FISH
.A. NOBLEMAN, who lived in a beautiful man-
sion near Pisa, wa. about to give a ça'and
feast. He had obtained every kind of
dainty but fi.h. The sea had been so
stormy for some davs that no boat had ven-
tured to leave the hore. On thc morning
of the feast, howevcr, a poor fi.herman ruade
his appearance with a large turbot.
The nobleman, gmatly ileased, asked him
to naine any lrice he thought i,ropcr for the
fish, and it would 1,e instantly laid.
"Well," said the fisherman, "what I wish
to have as the price of my fi,h is one
hundred lashcs on my larc lack, and I will
not bate one strokc on the bargain."
The nobleman and iris guests were aston-
ished at the oddity of the rcquest, thinking
the fi.herman was only in jest. The offer of
a handsome sure of money he. absolutely
refused, and said that they might bave the
fish, but only on the condition he had
stated.
"Well, well," said the nobleman, "the
fellow is a humorist, and the fish we must
bave; but lay on hghtly, and let the 1,rice
be paid in out presence."
Af ter receiving fifty lashes, the fisherman
exclaimed" "Hold! hold! I have a I,artner
in this business, and it is right that he
should receive his share."
"qmt!" ced the nobleman, "are there
two such madcaps in the world? Naine the
other one, and he shall 1,e sent for instantlv."
"You need hot go far for hiln," said the
fisherman, ")-ou will find him at the gate,
in the shape of your own 1,ooEer,-who would
n»t let me in until I had promised that he
should bave the hall of whatever I received
fir my tre'bot."
"Oh ! oh !" said the nobleman, "bSng
him up, then, and he shall receive the other
fifty lashes with the strictest justice."
The 1,orter was immediately brought in
and prepared for the flogging. "Now,"
exclaimed his toaster to him who handled
the whip, "lay it on soundly." After this
LITTLE SORROW" 117'
punishment, the eovetous porter was dis-
missed from the nobleman's sen-ice, and the
poor fisherman was paid in cash thc highest
market price for his fi,h.
LITTLE $ORROW
Aio« the thistles on the hill,
In tears sat Little Sorrow ;
"I see . black cloud in the west ;
'TvHll bring . storm to-morrow.
And when it storms, where shall I be?
And what will keep the rain from me?
Woe's me !" said Little Sorrow.
118 SECOND
"But now the air is soft and sweet,
The sunshine bright," said Pleasure;
" Here is my pipe; if you will dance,
l'll wake my merriest measure;
Or, if you choose, we'll sit beneath
The red-rose tree, and twine a wreath,
Corne, corne with me!" said Plasure.
" Oh, I want neither dance nor flower--
They're hot for me," said Sorrow,
"When that black cloud is in the west,
And it will storm to-morrow!
And if it storm, vhat shall I do?
I have no heart to play with you--
Go ! go !" said Little Sorrow.
But lo! when came the morrow's morn,
The clouds were all blown over;
The lark st)rang singing from his nest
Among the dewy clover
And Pleasure called : '" Corne out and dance,
To-day you mourn no evil chance ;
The clouds have all blown over!"
"And if they have, alas ! a]as !
Poor comfort that !" said Sorrow ;
"For if to-day we miss the storm,
'Twill surely corne to-morrow,
» coss o 119
And be the fiercer for delay ;
I am too sore at heart to play--
Woe's mu !" said Little Sorrow.
' LkRIAN DOUGLAS"
STORY OF A RED CROSS DOG
I was evening. The sun had long ago
hidden 1 »ehind the l,ills in the west. And now
the little .tars' were playing l,ide-and-sêek
among tl,e heavy ehmds wl,ieh had gathered
during the great battle whieh had been fought
that dav.
]20 SECOND IIEADER
Oh, what a lmisy day that had been, with
the booming of cannon, the tramping of
manv ïeet, and the sharp cracking of rifles!
All was quiet now, except for the whi
1,éring of the trces and the bell-like tinkle of
the hrook, as it babbled sleepily and lazily
over the l-el_,l,les.
Quiet, did I sav? But Hark! What was
that ? A 1,w, faint c T f(w help[ There it
was again, almost too faint tobe heard!
A wounded soldier, who had fallen in the
battle, was lying in that little ravine by the
Ï,r,»«,k, whCe he had crawlêd to get a ¢h4nk
to queneh lds thirst.
He could mt get baek to his comrades, for
he was too weak.
Al'ter the battle, the field had been
searched and searched for wounded soldiers;
and he alone of all the wounded had been left,
perhaps to die; for no one had noticed him
or heard his call fir help.
How sad he ïelt as the voices of the
searehers and the sound of theh" ïootsteps
died away! He had tried very hard to make
himself héard, but he had hot succeeded.
A RED CROSS DOG
He closed his eyes, and a picture of his
home came to him. He seemed to see the
little white cottage, nestled among the daisy-
covered hills, far across the sea.
"They are just beginning supper now,"
he whispered; and a great sob broke from
him as he thought of his wife and little ones.
"I shall never see them again. If I could
only make some one hear," he said; and he
tried again to call aloud, but no one came.
But wait! Help is at hand! What is that
so warm and sort, kissing his cheek? Whose
eyes, so large and tender, are lo»king into
his ?
It is a great, shaggy dog, wearing a large
red cross, lïre seems to say to him: "Courage
j ust a httle longer, for I am going to save
you ! "'
René, for that was the dog's name, was a
collie who lived in France, but who had been
born in the Highlands of Scotland.
Running from the wounded soldier to a
little hill near by, the dog barked sharp and
loud. "Hurry! Hurry!" said that bark,
122 SECO.N'D READER
"or you will be too late!" And he waited
for the men, who, he felt sure, would corne.
And in u little while they came, hm'rying
as fast as thev could; for they well -knew
what that loud barking meant.
Then the dog lêd the way to where the
wounded soldier lay. The men had brought
a litter with them, upon which thêy placed
him; and they took him to the ho,-_pital,
vhere he was cared tbr until he was well
and strong again.
THE RAIN
I hear leaves drinking rain ;
I hear rich leaves on top
Giving the poor beneath
Drop after drop;
'Tis a sweet noise to hear
These green leaves drinking near.
And when the sun cornes out,
After this rain shall stop,
A wondrous light will fill
Each dark, round drop;
I hope the sun shines bright;
'Twill be a lovely sight.
Wn.LM H. D.vms
FULL IOON 123
FULL MOON
One night as Dick lay half asleep,
Into his drowsy eyes
A great still light began to creep
From out the silent skies.
It was the ]ovely moon's, for when
He raised his dreamy head,
Her surge of silver filled the pan
And streamed across his bed.
So, for awhile, each gazed at each--
Dick, and the solemn moon
Till, climbing slowly on her way,
She vanished and was gone.
WALTER DE LA bLé, RE
SIR PHILIP SIDNEY
Sm Philip Sidney was a brave Englishman,
mighty in war and gentle in peace.
He was sent over the seas by Queen
Elizabeth to help those who were fighting
for liberty.
At the head of two hundred soldiers he
charged a thousand of the enemy. His
horse was shot under him, but he mounted
another and joined u second charge. A
third time he led his soldiers on. A musket
ball }woke the bone of his leg and, though
he still kept on horseback, the animal took
fright and bore him away from the field.
As his friends were camTing him to
shclter, bein thirsty with loss of blood he
called for a drink. As he was putting the
cup fo his lips, he noticed a dying soldier
who cast eager eyes upon it. Without even
tasting the water, Sidney handed him the
CUl». "Friend," he said, "thy necessity is
gveater than mine."
LITTLE GUSTAVA 125
LITTLE GUSTAVA
LITTL Gustava sits in the sun,
Safe in the porch, and the little drops run
From the icicles under the eaves so fast,
For the bright spring sun shines warm at last,
And glad is little Gustava.
She wears a quaint little scarlet cap,
And a little green bowl she holds in her lap,
Filled with bread and milk to the brim,
And a wreath of marigolds round the rira ;
"Ha, ha I" laughs littlo Gustava.
126 SECOND REDER
Up cornes ber little gray coaxing cat,
With ber little pink nose, and she mews :
"What's that ?"
Gustava feeds her--she begs for more ;
And a little brown hen walks in at the door;
" Good-day !" cries little Gustava.
She scatters crumbs for the little brown hen ;
There cornes a rush and a flutter, and then
Down fly her little white doves, so sweet,
With their snowy wings and their crimson
feet ;
"Welcome," cries little Gustava.
So dainty and eager, they pick up the crumbs.
But who is this through the doorway cornes ?
Little Scotch terrier, little dog Rags
Looks in ber face, and his funny tail wags;
" Ha, ha !" laughs little Gustàva.
" You want some breakfast, too ?" and down
he sets her bowl on the brick floor brown ;
And little dog Rags drinks up her milk,
While she strokes his shaggy locks like silk;
" Dear Rags !" says little Gustava.
Waiting without, stood sparrow and crow,
Cooling their ïeet in the melting snow;
LITTLE GUSTAVA l -°7
" Won't you corne in, good folk ? " she cried.
But they were too bashful, and stayed outside,
Though "Pray corne in " cried Gustava.
So the last she threw them, and knelt on the
mat
With doves and biddy and dog and cat.
And her mother came to the open bouse door:
" Dear little daughter, I bring you some more,
My merry little Gustava I "
Kitty and terrier, biddy and doves,
All things harmless Gustava loves.
The shy, kind creatures 'ris joy to feed,
And oh, ber breakfast is sweet indeed
To happy little Gustava I
CELIA THAXTER
IF I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain ;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Into his nest again,
I shall hot live in vain.
EMILY DICKINSON
128 SECOND REIDEE
THE TIGER, THE BRAHMAN, AND THE
JACKAL
OXCE upon a time a tiger was caught in a
trap. He td.ed in vain to get out through
the bars, and rollcd and bit with rage and
gxief when he failed.
By chance a poor Bmhman came by,
"Let me out of this cage, 0 pious one!"
cried the tiger.
"Nay, my friend," replied the Bmhinan,
mildly, "you would probably eat me ff I
TIGER» BRAHMAN» AND JACKAL ]
"Not at all!" said the tiger, "on the
contrary, I should be forever grateful, and
serve you as a slave !"
Now, when the tiger sobbed and sighed
and wept, the pious Brahman's heart
softened, and at last he consented fo open
the door of the cage. Out pOl,l»ed the figer,
and, seizîng the poor man, cled- "hat
a Ibol you are! What i. to prevent my
eating you now, for after being cooped up
so long I ara just terribly hunT!"
In vain the Brahman pleaded for his life;
the most he could gain was a promise fo
abide by the decision of the first three
things he chose to question as to the justice
of the tiger's action.
So the Brahman first asked a pipal tree
what it thought of the matter, but the pipal
tree replied coldly- "What have you to
complain about? Don't I give shade and
shelter to every one who passes by, and
don't they in retum tear down my«brances
to feed their cattle? Don't whimper--e a
Illan ! ' /
130 CO'D .A»n
Then the Brahman, sad at heart, went
farther afield, till he saw a buffalo turning a
well wheel; but he fared no better ff'oto it,
tbr it answered" "You are a fool to expeet
gratitude! Look at me! While I ga-e milk,
they fed me on eotton-seed and oil-cake,
but now I a4 d T they yoke me here, and
give me I refuse as ibdder!"
The Br/ahman, still more sad, asked the
road to give him its ol,inion.
"SIy dear sir," said the road, "how
foolih )-ou are to expect anhin else[
Here ara I, useful to eveç'body, )-et all, rich
and le»or, great and small, trample on me as
they go pa.t, gi-ing me nothing but the ashes
of their pipes and the husks of their grain!"
On this the Brahman turned back sorrow-
fully, and on the way he met a jackal, who
called out" "Why, what's the matter, 3Ir.
Brahman? You look as miserable as a fish
out of water ! "
Then the Brahman told him all that had
occun'ed. "How verv confusing! " said the
jackal when the recital was ended; "would
TIGER lRAIIMAN AND JACKAL 131
you mind telling me over again? ti)r every-
thing seems so mixed Ul) l "
The Brahman told it ail over again, but
the jtckal shook his head in a distracted sort
of way, and still could hot understand.
"It's very odd," said he, sadly, "l,ut it
ail seems to go in atone ear and out at the
,_,thel'! I will go to the place where it ail
happened, and then, l»erhaps, I shall be al,le
to give a judgment."
So they returned to the cage, by which
the tiger was waiting for the Brahman, and
shm])ening his teeth and claws.
"You've been away a long rime!" growled
the savage beast, "but now let us begin
our dinner."
"0," dinner!" thought the wretched
Brahman, as his knees knocked together
with fright; "what a remarkably delicate
way of putting it!"
"Give me rive minutes, my lord!" he
pleaded, "in order that I may explain mat-
ters to the jackal hem, who is somewhat
slow in his wits."
The tiger consented, and the Brahman
1,egan the whole sto3r over again, hot miss-
ing a single detail, and spinning as long a
yarn as possible.
"Oh, my poor brain! oh, my poor brain!"
c%d the jackal, wrin_ng his paws. "Let
me see! how did it all begin? You were in
the cage, and the tiger came walking by--"
"Pooh ! " intea'uptc<l the figer, "what a
fool you are! I was in the cage."
"Of course ! "cried thc jackal, pretending
to tremble -ith fl-ight; "res! I was in the
cage--no, I -asn't--dear! dear! where are
my -its ? Let me see--the figer was in the
Brahman, and the cage came walking by
no, that's hot it either! Well, don't mind
me, but b%=dn your dinner, for I shall
never understand I"
"Yes, )-ou shall!" returned the tiger, in a
rage at the jackal's stupidity; "I'll a'e
you understand! Look here--I ara the
tiger--"
"Yes, my lordl "
"And that is the Brahman--"
TIGER» BRAH)IAN» AND JACKAI 133
"Yes, my lord !"
"And that is the cage--"
"Yes, my lord !"
"And I was in the cage--do you under-
stand ?"
"Yes--no--Please, my lord--"
"Well?" cried the tiger, impatiently.
"Please, my lord !--how did you get in ?"
"How !--why, in the usual way, of course !"
"Oh, dear me !--my head is beginning t,»
whirl again! Pieuse don't be ang;, my lord,
but what is the usual way ?"
At this the tiger lost patience, and, jump-
ing into the cage, cried: "This wayl Now
do you understand how if was ?"
"Perfcctly!" grinned the juckal, us he
dexterously shut the door; "and if you will
permit me to say so, I think matters will
remain as they were!"
FLOm A_n STE: "Tales from the Punjab "
Take not the naine of God in vain,
Nor utter any word profane.
134 SECOND READER
THE BLUEBIRD
I ow the song that the bluebird is singing
Out in the apple tree where he is swinging.
Brave little fellow ! the skies may be dreary;
Nothing cares he while his heart is so cheery.
Hark ! how the music leaps out from his
throat ;
Hark I was there ever so merry a note
Listen awhile, and you'll hear what he's
saying
Up in the apple trees, swinging and swaying :
" Dear little blossoms down under the snow,
You must be veary of winter, ! know;
Hark I while I sing you a message of cheer,
Summer is coming, and spring-time is here!
"Little white snowdrop, I pray you, arise ;
Bright yellow crocus, corne, open your eyes ;
Sweet little violets, hid from the cold,
Put on your mantles of purple and gold ;
Daffodils ! daffodils ! say, do you hear ?
Summer is coming, and spring-time is here!"
EMILY HUNTIGTO IYL.F
ULYSSES
ULYSSES
Ho.ge,, the poet, told nmny tol'ies about the
great mcn in Grcece. Hcrc is ont about
Ulysses, the wisest of ai1 thc Greeks who
fought against Troy.
I71ysses, in the course of lais long voyage
by sea from Troy to his home, had to pass
the island where the Sirens lived, low
these Sirens sang so sweetly that men who
heard them could think of nothing else, and
136 SECOND
had no desire but to get nearer and nearer
the sweet Inusic. As they listened, they for-
got friends and home and children. They
could neither eat nor work nor think nor
siea They could do nothing but listen
till they died. And all the island of the
Sirens was covered with the bones of Inen
who had been lured to death by these songs.
Ulysses had hot feared to Ineet giants on
land and mighty storms at sea, yet he knew
better than to expose himself to the power
of this wonderful music. Yet, longing to
hear it, he ]fit upon a plan. As his ship
drew near to the island, he told ]ris Inen of
their danger. He said that, to save them,
he would stop their ems with soït wax.
Then they must tic him to the Inast and on
no account loose him lmtil they were out of
sight of the i.land.
As the ship approached, the Sirens began
to sing such sweet music as Ulysses had
never heard. Yet the ship continued on
her course. Never had the Sirens seen such
a thing happen. They ruade theix songs
DONT KILL THE BIRDS 137
even sweeter than before, till Ulyss, no
longer able to resist, ordered the ship to be
put about. But the man at thc hclm could
not hem'. Eagcr to make his ordcrs obeyëd,
Ulysses strugglcd with all his might to free
himself from the cords which bound him.
But he was helpless, and the sailors, rcmem-
bering his instructions, looked the other way.
It was hot till the ship had passed far
bevoud the Sirens' isle that the sailors
unbotmd their leader. So Ulysses, alone
of mortals, hcard the Sirens' song and
escapcd.
A GREEK T.LE
DON'T KILL THE BIRDS
DON'T kill the birds, the little birds,
That sing about your door,
Soon as the joyous Spring has corne,
And chilling storms are o'er.
The little birds, how sweet they sing !
Oh ! let them joyous live,
And do not seek to take their life,
Which you can never give.
138 SECOND REaDE
Don't kill the birds, the pretty birds.
That play among the trees :
'Twould make the earth a cheerless place,
To see no more of these.
The little birds how fond they play !
Do hot disturb their sport;
But let thêm warble forth thêir SOllgS
Till winter euts them short.
Don't kill the birds, the happy birds,
That cheer the field and grove.
Such harmless things to look upon,
They claire our warmest love.
lLt ¢- IIowrrT
WINTER JEWELS
A million little diamonds
Twinkled on the trees,
And all the little maidens said:
"A jewel, if you please !"
But while they held their hands
outstretched
To catch the diamonds gay,
A million little sunbeams came
And stole them all away.
MOTHER PARTRIDGE 139
MOTHER PARTRIDGE
DowN the wooded slope of Taylor's Hill
Mother Partridge lcd her brood; down
toward the crystal brook that by some
strange whim was called ]Iud Creek. Her
little ones were one day old, but already
quick on foot, and she was taking them lbr
the first rime to drink.
She walked slowly, crouching low as she
went, tbr the woods were full of enemies.
She was uttering u ft little cluck in her
throat, a call to the little balls of mottled
down that on their tiny 1)ink legs came
toddling after, and lel)ing ftly and plain-
tively if left even a few inches behind, and
seeming so fralc they m'ade the very chick-
adees look big and coarse.
There were twelve of them, but Mother
Part5dge watched them all, and she watched
every bush and tree and thicket, and the
whole woods, and the sky itself. Always for
enemies he seemed eekingfriends were
too scarce to be looked for--and an enemy
140 SECOND IEADER
she found. Away across the level beaver
meadow was a great brute of a fox. He
was coming their way, and in a few
moments would surely wind them, or strike
theh" trail. There was no rime to lose.
"Krrr! Krrr!" (HideI Hide!) cried the
mother in a low firm voice, and the little
bits of things," scarcely bigger than acorns
and but a day old, scattered far (a few
inches) apart fo hide. One dived under a
leaf, another between two roots, a third
crawled into a eurl of birch-bark, a fourth
into a hole, and so on till all were hidden
but one who could find no cover, so squatted
on a broad yellow chip and lay very fiat,
and closed his eyes veT tight, sure that
now he was sale from being seen. They
ceased their frightened peeping,and all was
still.
Mother Partridge fiew straight towards
the dreaded beast, alighted fearlessly a few
yards to one side of him, and then fiung
herself on the ground, fiopping as though
winged and lame--ol so y lame--
MOTHER PART]IDGE 141
and whining like a distressed puppy. Was
she begging for mercy--mercy from a blood-
thirsty, cruel fox? Oh, dear nol She was
no fool. One often hears of the cunning of
the fox. Wait and see what a fool he is
compared with a mother-palridge. Elated
at the prize so suddcnly within his reach,
the fox turned with a dash and caught--at
least, no, he didn't quite catch the bird; she
flopped, by chance, just a foot out of reach.
He followed with another j ump and would
have seized her this time surel3; but some-
how a sapling came just between, and the
partridge dragged herself awkwardly away
and under u log; but the great brute snapped
his jaws and bounded over the log, while
she, seeming a trille less lame, ruade another
clumsy foIvard spring and tumbled down a
bank, and Re)nard, keenly following, almost
caught her tail, but, oddly enough, fast as
he went and leaped, she still oeemed j ust a
trifle faster. It was most extraordinary. A
winged partridge and he, Reynard, the Swift-
foot, had hot caught ber in rive minutes'
SECOND REA_DER
racing. It was really shameful. But the
partridge seemed to gain strength as the fox
pat forth his, and after u quarter of u toile
race, racing that was somehow ull away
from Taylor's Hill, the bird got unaccount-
ably quite well, and, rising with u derisive
whirr, flew off through the woods, leaving
the fox, utterly dumfounded, to realize that
he had been ruade u fool of, and, worst of all,
he now remembered that this was hot the
first time he had been served this very trick,
though he never knew the reason for it.
Meanwhile Mother PaloEridge s-kimmed in
u great circle, and came by a roundabout
way back to the little fuzzballs she had left
hidden in the wood.
EaNEST TtOIPSON-SETON
"Wfld Animals I Iave Known "
THE ANT AND THE CRICKET
A silly young cricket, accustomed to sing
Through the warm, sunny mÇnths of gay
summer and spring,
Began to complain, when he found that at home
THE ANT AND THE CRICKET 143
His cupboard was empty and winter was corne.
lot a crumb to be found
On the snow-covered ground ;
Not a flower could he see,
Not a leaf on a tree :
"Oh, what will become," said the cricket, "of
l/le ? »
At last by starvation and famine made bold,
All dripping with wet and all trembling with cold,
Away he set off to a miserly ant,
To see if, to keep him alive, he would grant
Him shêltêr from rain:
A mouthful of grain
He vished only o borrow,
He'd repay it to-morrow :
If not, he must die of starvation and sorrow.
Said the ant to the cricket : "I'm your servant
and friend,
But we ants never borrow, we ants never lend;
But tell me, dear sir, did you lay nothing by
When the weather was warm?" Said the
cricket: "Not I.
lIy heart was so light
That I sang day and night,
For all nature looked gay."
"You sang, sir, you say?
Go then," said the ant, "and dance winter away.
144 SECO.N'D READER
Thus ending, he hastily lifted the wicket
And out of the door turned the poor little
cricket.
Though this is a fable, the moral is god:
If you live without work, you must live without
food.
THE LAZY FROG
If was such a l»retty pool. Every sort of
water-plant grew there, from the tall, purple
loosestrife and crimson willow-weed, to the
creeping monesm'ort with its golden blossoms.
The great, white water-lilies liked to lay their
sleepy heads on its calm, clear surface, and
forget-me-nots nestled along its banks.
In the evening the ]Iay-flies could hot
resist the pleasure of dancing there, though
they knew it might be a dance of death, for
were there not numerous pink-spotted trout
watching for them below, and ready to dart
on them at a moment's notice?
0ne evening, at sunset, a lively little trout
was employing himself in this way with
THE LAZY FROG I5
great success, when he observed an intelli-
gent-looking frog sitting on the bank, hall
in the water and half out, and croaking.
"Why don't you corne right in ?" called
the trout. "You can't think how lovely it
is. And the May-flies are just in perfection;
corne along."
"No, thank you," said the frog; "I'd
rather not."
"Perhaps you can't swim ?" suggested
the trout.
"Can't I though !" answered the frog.
"Let me tell you, that when human beings
try to swim, they imitatc me, not you!"
"I should think not," said the trout;
"why, the poor things haven't got any fins!
Well, corne along, Froggie, and let's see how
you perform."
"No, thank you," said the frog again, "I
had enough of the pond when I was a young
thing with a large head. I ara too old to
make such exertions now."
"Too old ! too lazy, you mean."
"That's rude," said the frog.
The trout darted upwards and caught a
fine May-fly, then dived, and presently
appeared again, saying in a gentler tone"
"Are you htm'y, old fellow ?"
"Ver-," answered the frog.
"Don't you like May-flies ?"
" Rather! Don't )'ou see I keep opening
my mouth, bi hopes one will fly in by
mistake ?"
"You might watt long enough," said the
trout, "th,»ugh your mouth is pretty wide;"
and with that he swam awav.
Eal'ly the next moing, l»efore he dew was
off the g'ound, a spa'uw in sech of worms
obselwed the frog sitting in the saine spot.
,, nny don't )-ou ce»me right out and look
for your 1,reakfast, Froggie ?" said she.
"Much too early to besth" oneself,"
answered the ïrog.
"Pel'haps vou can't ]]op ?" said the
spaITOW.
" Can't I though!" said the frog. "If I
chose, I eould hop a good deal fmoEher than
you."
THE LAZY FROG 147
"If you cau hop, why don't you have a
try for that blue-bottle sitting on the thistle
heur you?"
"l'll open my mouth wide," said the fi'og,
"and perhaps he may corne in. Why, there
he goes, right away. rhat an unlucky
fellow I am, to be sure!"
"Dear me !" said the sparrow, "do you
call that being unluckv? I'm sure mv
nestlings at home open their mouths wide
enough, but nothing ever drops into them
but what I put there. But I must be off."
That evening, when the trout came up f«r
his supper, there sat the frog in thc saine place.
"Good-evening, Froggie," he said. "How
many flies have popped down your throat
since I saw you last? Not many, I'm afi'aid.
Why, you are getting thin; yom" yellow skin
hangs quite loose, and yom" eyes look po,i-
tively goggle!"
"Personal remarks are never in good
taste," answered the frog; and as he showed
no inclination to continue the conversation,
the trout went about his own affairs.
148 SECOO
Next morning the sparrow appeared again,
and there sat the frog as before.
"Halloo ! Froggie," cried she, "you there
still! What are you wuiting for?"
"I am waiting for Providence to send a
fly," replied the frog ; but this time he spoke
slowly, for he was beginning to feel weak
and huny.
"Providence only helps those who help
themselves," said the sparrow. "I don't
believe a fly will be sent."
"I certainly ara most unlucky," said the
frog, "considering the number of files that
pass this way; and not one of them cornes
in, though I open my mouth so wide that my
jaws ache."
The sparrow hopped up to him and looked
at him for a moment, with her head on one
side.
"Well, you are queer fishl" she said.
"I'm hot u fish at aH," replied the frog,
with calm dignity; and the sparrow picked
up a fine worm and flew off to her nestr
THE LAZY FROG 149
Af ter she was gone, the frog observed a
little blue butterfly sitting on a blade of
grass near. The pangs of hunger induced
him to stretch his yellow ncck for it, but so
slowly that the blue butterfly had time to
escape. "Just like my luck!" said the frog.
"What's the use of exerting oneself? Noth-
ing ever cornes of it. How weak I feel to
be sure! I think it's the effort of holding
my mouth open so long that knocks me
up. l'll go to sleep."
But he had scarcely closed his eyes when
a rustling sound close to him made him
open them. There, between him and the
sunlight, loomed a dark figure with cruel
eyes. It was the great shrike, or butcher-
bird. Poor Froge! While he was think-
ing what an unlucky fellow he was, the
butcher-bird potmced on him and put an
end to his existence; after which she deposi-
ted him on a thorn, till she should feel
inclined to eat him.
"Well, Froggie, you there still!" cried the
trout when he came up in the evening.
"Why, he's gone !
fairly starved out ?"
"Killed and spitted,"
who, concealed in u bush,
whole proceeding.
"Poor fellow!" said the trout; "I was
afraid it might end so."
The sparrow went home and told ber
young ones ail poor Froggie's histo,
impressing on them that it was of no use
to be able to hop weil, or to be u fine
swimmer, if one only sat ai1 day on
bank; that dinners didn't drop into people's
mouths, however wide open they mJght be;
and that the sooner they could manage to
fetch their own worms the better she should
be pleased.
What's become of him--
said the sparrow,
had wutched the
THE RAINBOW
THERE are bridges on the rivers,
As pretty as you please ;
But the bow that bridges heaven,
And overtops the trees,
And builds a road from earth to sky,
s prettier far than these.
LISTEN TO THE RAIN 15'
LI8TEN TO THE RAIN
Listen to the Rain!
Hear the merry sound it makes
As it falls and slides and shakes
From the eaves into the street,
Where its million tiny feet
Hurry, hurry past the door,
Followed by a million more!
Listen to the Rain!
How it gurgles with delight,
Hurling from its dizzy height,
152 SECO.N'D READER
Falling straight and falling true,
Faster now, and louder, too --
See! The tardy drops and small
Cannot keep the pace at all!
Listen to the Rainl
Ah! It's angry now -- I fear
'Tis a scolding voice you hear!
How it scolds the drooping trees,
How it scolds the languid breeze,
How it scolds the birds, poor things,
For the dust upon their wings !
Listen to the Rainl
If you listen hard, you'll hear
How the skies grow cool and clear,
How the primrose lifts her head,
H«)w the mountain brooks are fed,
How the earth grows sweet again
With the coming of the Rain!
ISABEL ECCLRSTONE .LCKAY
IF a thought cornes quick of doing a -kindness
to a friend, do it that verv moment! Don't
put it offdon't wait. What's the use of
doing a kindness, if you do it a day too late.
CHLr_S K_m'«SLY
THE BOY VHO COULD NOT BE BRIBED 153
THE BOY WHO COULD 1NOT BE BRIBED
ME. who hunt foxes in England often do
great damage to the farmers' crops by riding
over the fields on horseback. One day a
farmer, who was at work in his field, saw a
party of red-coated htmtsmen, with their
dogs, coming across one of his meadows to-
ward a wheat-field.
As the wheat was just springing up, the
farmer was anxious that it should hot be
trampled upon.
15t SECO.,'I) READER
Calling one of his ploughboys, who was
working close by, he told him to run quickly
and shut the gate, and to make sure that
none of the hunters went into the field.
The boy hurried away and reaehed the
field just in time to shut the gate as the
fil'St huntslnan rode up.
"Open the gare at once, my boy," said
thc man. "We want to go through the
ficld."
"I can't doit," answered the boy. "Master
bus ol'dcred me to let no one pass through,
s, I cann,_,t open the gate myself or allow
Votl 0 do so."
Bv this rime others of the hunting party.
had corne up, and one was so angry with the
1.»v that he threatcned to strike him with
his whip if he did not open the gate. The
lad rcplied that he n-as only obeying his
toaster, and that it n'as his dutv to do so.
Another gentleman offered to give the lad
t sovereign if he would allow them to pass
through. This was VCl'y tempting to the
loy, who had nevcr had so much money;
TtlE BOY V'HO COULD NOT DE BRIBED 155
but he remembered his duty and rcfused to
disobcy his master's orders.
This delay annoyed the hunting party
vcry much, and at last a statcly gentleman
came up and said- "My boy, you do not
know mc--I ara the Duke of Wcllington--
one hot in the habit of bcing disobcycd. I
command you to open the gate this molncnt,
that nly fricnds and I nlay pass through."
The boy lookcd in wondcr at the grcat
soldicr. He had hcard of his many vict«rics
and was l»rOUd to be talking to so grcat a
man. IIe took off his haï, bowed to the
grcat Duke, and replied:
"I am sure the Duke of Wcllington would
nç, t wish me to disobcy nly mastcr's orders;
I must kecp this gate shut and cannot let
any one pass without the farmcr's 1,errais-
sion."
The Duke was pleased with the boy's
answer, and, raising his bat, he said- "I
can honore" the boy who can neither be
! ribed nor h'ightened into disobeying orders.
With an army of such soldiers I could
conquer he world."
156 SECOND READER
The hunting party now no longer tried to
pass through the forbidden gate, but, turning
their horses, rode in another direction.
The boy ran toward his toaster, shouting:
"tturrah ! hurrah ! for the Duke of Welling-
ton !"
The fariner, who had watched the seene,
was much eoneerned when he learned who
it was that had been turned away; but he
felt that he had found a boy whom he could
trust.
A LITTLE SPRING
A little spring had lost its way
Amid the grass and fern;
A passing stranger seooped a well
Where weary men might turn.
He walled it in, and hung with tare
A ladle at the brink ;
He thought not of the deed he did,
But hoped that some might drink.
He passed again, and lo! the well,
ty summers never dried,
Had cooled ten thousand parehing tongues,
And saved a life beside.
CmumES l_CgaY
A WONDERFUI WORKMAN 15
A WONDERFUL WORKMAN
FR acmss the sea, in the land of Greece,
there lived long ago a wonderful work-
man named Dedalus. He ruade beautiful
statues, and invented clever contrivances,
and far and wide the people talked of his
skill.
All he knew he taught his nephew. In
time the boy grew skilïul as his uncle, and
invented the saw and the compass, so that
the Greeks said: "He will be greater than
even Dedalus."
Then Dedalus grew jealous, and taking
him to a steep cliff, suddenly thrust him
over that he might drown in the waves
beneath. But a goddess caught the lad
and changed him to a partridge, and
together they vanished away over the
waters.
Now in those days all the land of Crete
was wasted by a telTible monster whom no
one could restrain, and the King, hearing
]5 SECOND EEADEE
ho cleer Doeas was, sen for him. So
D'adalus came and built a strange prison
for the monster, so full of rooms that
opened into one another, and halls and
turnings and crooked passages, that no one
who entered it could find Iris way out.
When the King saw it, he was greatly
pleased and thought very highly of
Dedalus and would hot let him return
to Greece.
But Doedalus longed for his old home,
and would go down fo the shore and look
across the sea towards his native land.
0ne cvening as he was wal-ldng along the
beach with his son, the little boy pointed
to the ships with their great sails spread.
"Father," he said, "are those birds with
great wings fiying over the water?"
This set the father thin-king, and he made
wings for himself and for his boy out of the
tiathers of birds. He fastened them on
with wax. Then, watching the birds and
imitating them, he taught himself to fly.
He also taught his son to do iikewis¢.
A ONDERFUL WORKMAN 159
When all things were ready, he said to
the boy: "To-day we shall fly home to
Greece. Therefore do as I do, and ibllow
my path. Neither be eager to soar too
high, lest the sun may bure your wings."
So they flew upwards. Beneath them
there lay the land of Crete and the blue
sea, and afar off the shorcs of Greece.
Thither they directed their way and flew
swiftly through the air.
At first the boy followed his father closely,
but prcsently, growing proud of his s-kill, he
was not content to do as Dedalus did, but
stole away higher and higher into the sky.
Then as he drew near the sm, the wax
began to soften. 1-ils vings would not
work, and, crying aloud upon his father, he
fell downwards into the sea.
Dedalus turned swiftly about and hastened
to the spot where his son had fallen, but he
was too late. Just then a partridge flew
slowly past
And Doedalus remembered what he had
done to his nephew, and lew that this
lO 8ECOID I:tEADER
was punishment for his crime. Sadly he
t unaed again homeward, and alone and in
sorrow he reaehed his journey's end.
THE SPRITE
A LITTLE sprite sat on a
moon-beam
When the night was wan-
ing away,
And over the world to the
eastward
Had spread the first flush
of the day.
The moon-beam was eold
and slippery,
And a fat little fairy was
he ;
Around him the white
clouds were sleeping,
And under him slum-
bered the sea.
Then the old moon looked out of her left eye,
And laughed when she thought of the fun,
For she knew that the moon-beam he sat on
Would soon melt away in the eun;
THE ISPRITE 161
8o she gave a slight shrug of her shoulder,
And winked at a bright little star--
The moon was remarkably knowing,
As old people always are.
"Great madam," then answered the fairy,
"No doubt you are mightily wise,
And know possibly more than another
Of the ins and the outs of the skies.
But to think that we don't in our own way
An interest in sky-things take
Is a common and fatal blunder
That sometimes you great ones make.
"For l've looked up from under the heather,
And watched you night after night,
And marked your silent motion,
And the fall of your silvery light.
I have seen you grow larger and larger,
I have watched you fade away ;
I bave seen you turn pale as a snowdrop
At the sudden approach of day.
"So don't think for a moment, great madam,
Though a poor little body I be,
That I haven't my senses about me,
Or ara going to drop into the sea.
SECOND READEI
I bave had what you only could give me--
A pleasant night ride in the sky;
But a new power arises to eastward,
So, useless old lady, good-bye."
He whistled a low, sweet whistle,
And up from the earth so dark,
With its wings bespangled with dewdrops,
There bounded a merry lark.
He's mounted the tiny singer
And soared through the heavens away,
With his face all aglow in the morning,
And a song for the rising day.
F. Go Scout
THE I'RODIGAL SON
A CERTAIN man had two sons" and the
yotmger of them said to his father, Father,
give me the pooEion of goods that falleth to
me. And he divided unto them his living.
And not many days after, the younger
son gathered all togelher, and took his
jomney into a far country, and there wasted
his substance with riotous li4ng.
THE PRODIGAL SON 163
And when he had spent all, there arose a
mighty famine in that land; and he
began to be in want. And he went and
joined himself fo a citizen of that count3;
and he sent him into his field. to feed swine.
And he would ïain have been filled with the
husks that the swine did eat: and no man
gave unto him.
And when he came to himself, he said:
How many hired servants of my father'.s
have bread enough and to spare, and [
peri,h with hunger! I will arise and go to
my father, and will say mto him, Father,
I bave sinned against heaven, and belbre
thee, and ara no more worthy fo be
called thy son: make me as one of thy hired
servants. And he arose, and came to his
father.
But when he'was yet a great way off, his
father saw him, and had compassion,
and mn, and fell on his neck, and ldssed
him. And the son said unto him, Father,
I bave sinned against heaven, anal in thy
sight, and ara no more worthy to be called
164 SECOND READER
thy son. But the father said to his ser-
vants: Bring forth the best robe, and put it
on him; and put u ring on his hand, and
shoes on his feet; and bring hither the
fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and
be merry: for this my son was dead, and is
alive again; he was lost, and is found. And
they began to be merry.
ST. LtE, XV. 11-25
THE FIELD MOUSE
Where the acorn tumbles down,
Where the ash-tree sheds its berry,
With your fur so soft and brown,
With your eyes so round and merry,
Scarcely moving the long grass,
Field mouse, I can see you t)ass.
Little thing, in what dark den
Lie you all the winter sleeping
Till warm weather cornes again ?
Then once more I see you peet)ing,
Round about the tall tree roots
Nibbling at their fallen fruits.
QUEEN BESS AND Vt'ALTER RALEIGH 165
QUEEN BESS AND WALTER RALEIGH
ION6 ago there reigned in England a Queen,
named Elizabeth, but her peoplc likcd her
so well that they called her "Good Queen
Bess." She lived in a palace near the great
River Thames.
0ne day the Queen was going from the
palace to the riverside, where lay the royal
boat. Tall and stately, she passed between
lines of soldiers in scarlet coats. The lords
and the ladies of her court were with her.
166
SECOND READER
She was dressed in lovely satin, and round
ber neck she wore lff of beautiful lace.
In the sunlight shone the diamonds on ber
1,reast and the jcwcls in hcr crown.
Crowds of people stood behind the soldiers
and cheered Queen Bess as she passed on
ber way from the palace to the boat. In the
very front of the crowd stood a handsome
young man with a rich red coat of velvet
hanging over his shoulders.
There had becn tain that mo=ning, and,
as the strects were hot paved in those days,
there n'as a small puddle in front of the
Queen whcn she reached the spot near
which the y«»ung man was standing.
His quick eye saw the Queen pause, and
he did hot wait an instant. He boldly pushed
last the guard, fiung from his ,-_houlder his
splendid velvet cloak, and spread it across
the muddy spot. He doffed his plumed bat
and bowed low to his Queen.
Queen Boss smiled upon him, and walked
d.-shod upon the out.pread cloak over the
dirty puddle. As she passed, she turned
hcr head and thanked the young man.
QUEEN BESS AND WALTER RALEIGH 167
His face burned with excitement, and his
eyes flashed, for the Queen had spoken to
him, although she knew not his naine.
But she was soon to know his naine, for
she sent one of the gentlemen of her house-
hold back to bring him to ber in the boat.
With his muddy cloak on his arm, he was
led to the Qucen.
"Sir," said the Queen, "we thank you for
so fait a ïoot-cloth. What shall be your
reward ?"
"No reward do I wish," said he. "It is
enough that I bave scrved Your Majesty."
"What is your naine?" she asked; "and
where do you lire ?"
"My naine is RMeigh--Walter Ralcigh--
and my home is in Dcvon."
She gave him diamond ring. He knelt
before her, as he received it, and kissed the
royal hand.
Queen Bess did not forger ber "Squire of
the Clouk," as she called him, for she soon
ruade him one of the gentlcmen of ber court.
And that was not all. He was so faithful
to the Queen that she sent for him one day,
168 .9 r9:
and, as he knelt before lier, she lifted a
gleaming sword and said to him in u clear
voice: "Waltcr ]aleigh, in the name of God
and Saint George, we dub thee knight! Be
faithful, brave, and fortunate!" She then
struck Raleigh's shoulders gently with the
blunt edge of the sword and exclaimed:
"Arise, Sir Walter Raleigh !"
A LULLABY
Hvs 1 the waves are rolling in,
Whi.te with foam, white with foam ;
Father toils amid the din ;
But baby sleeps at home.
Hush! the winds roar hoarse and deep,q
On they corne, on they corne !
Brother seeks the wandering sheep ;
But baby sleeps at home.
Hush! tho rain sweeps o'er the knowes,*
Where they roam, where they roam;
Sister goes to seekA_ho cows;
But baby sleeps at home.
Hillocks.
THEY DID'T THINK 169
THEY DIDN'T THINK
Once a trap was baited
With a piece of cheese ;
It smelled so strong to mousie,
It almost made him sneeze.
An old mouse said" "There's danger ;
Be careful where you go!"
"Nonsense," replied the other ;
"I don't believe you know !"
So he walked in boldly,
No one was in sight;
First he took a nibble,
Then he took a bite.
Close the trap together
Snapped, as quick as wink,
170
SECOND READER
Catching little mousie there,
Because he "didn't think."
Once a little robin
Stood outside the door;
He wanted to go inside,
And hop upon the floor.
"No, no," said the mother,
"You must stay with me;
Little birds are safest
Sitting in a treel"
"I don't tare," said Robin,
And gave his tail a fling;
"I bêlieve vou old folks
D,m't know everything."
He went; but Pussy seized him,
13efore he'd time to blink.
"Oh," he cried : "I'm sorry !
But I didn't think."
Now, my little children,
Learn from this my song,
Young folks are not always right,
Nor old folks always wrong.
Don't suppose you know more
Than anybody knows;
For there's often danger
Where no danger shows.
HEPATICAS 171
HEPATICAS
THE trees to thcir innermost marrow
Are touched by the sun ;
The robin is here and the sparrow
Spring is begun !
The sleep and the silence are over:
These petals that fise
Are the eyelids of earth that uncover
Her numberless eyes.
RCHIBALD LAMPMAN
172
THE WIND
1 sAw you toss the kites on high
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass,
Like ladies' skirts across the grass--
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song
I saw the different things you did,
But always you yourself you hid.
I felt you push, I heard you cai1,
I could hot see yourself at allw
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
O you that are so strong and cold,
O blower, are you young or old ?
Are you a beast of field and tree,
Orjust a stronger child than me?
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that ings o loud a song
tL L. rEVNSO
:LIRE is not so short but that there is always
time for comoEesy.
Eo
ALEXANDERS FIRST VICTORY 173
ALEXANDER'S FIRST VICTORY
O¢E day a stranger brought the horse
Bucephalus to Philip, King of Greece, offer-
ing to sell him for thirteen talents. When
Philip's men went into the field to try him,
they found him so vicious and hard to
manage, that the King ordered him to be
sent away as useless. Young Alexander,
who had been watching the horse, said to
his father: "What an excellent horse do we
lose for want of skill to manage him."
"Do you find fault with those that are
older and wiser than you ?" saîd his ïather.
"Are you better able to manage horses than
they ?"
"Let me try him," said Alexander. "I
can manage him better than the others
have."
"And if you do not" said Philip, "what
will you forfeit for your rashness?"
"I wfll pay the whole pce of the horse."
Everyone laughed at this, but, as soon as
if was agreed, Alexander wcnt to the horse
174 SECOND READER
and, taking the bridle, turned him toward
the sun. He had observed that the animal
was frightened by the motions of his own
shadow. He stroked and petted the horse
for a time, and then leaped lightly on his
back. Little by little he drew in the bridle
and guided him without harsh word or blow.
Then he let him go at full speed, urging him
with voice and heel.
Philip had been very anxious at first, but
when he saw his son controlling the horse
with such s-kill and ease, he wept for joy
and, -kissing the boy as he came down from
the horse, he said: "Oh, my son, look thee
out a kingdom worthy of thyself, for this
kingdom is too small for thee!"
«PLuTARCH»S LIrEs '
(Adapted)
'TIs easy enough to be pleasant
When life flows on like a song:
But the man worth while
Is the man with a smile
When everything goes dead wrong.
DANDELIONS 175
DANDELIONS
UPON a showery night
and still,
Without a sound of
warning,
A trooper band sur-
prised the hill,
And held it in the
morning.
We were not waked by
bugle notes,
No cheer our dreams
invaded,
And yet at dawn their
yellow coats
On the green slopes paraded.
We careless folk the deed forgot;
Till one day, idly walking,
We marked upon the self-same spot
A crowd of veterans talking.
They shook their trembling heads and gray
With pride and noiseless laughter ;
When, welladay! they blew away,
And ne'er were heard of after I
HELEN GR«Y CONE
ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON
Lo_-6 ago in the days of the early Chri.tians,
there was born in u province of Asiu Minor
beautiful boy named George. While the
boy was still ver?- young, his father was put
to death for being a Christian, and George
and his mother went to live in Lydda, u city
of the Holy Land. There GeorSe grew up
tobe u brave soldier of the great Emperor of
Rome.
A few days' journey from Lyddu there was
a beautiful city, built on the seashore and
surrounded by the mountains of Lebanon.
ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON 177
In a marsh outside the city walls dwelt a
dreadïul dragon, which came out daily from
its den and devoured sheep, and even oxen.
At last, in their terror, the people of the city
had fo send out a sheep every day, to satisfy
the hunger of the monster.
To make matters worse, no one dared to go
out to the wells beyond the city walls to
bring in fresh water.
When all the sheep and oxen were gone,
the kin of the city sent out each day a child,
chosen by lot, for the dragon to eat.
One morning the lot fell on Sabra,
the beautiful daughter of the king, fifteen
years of age. Great was the sorrow of
all the people, who would have liked to
spare her. But the fathcrs and the mothers
who had lost their chihlren declared that
the king's daughter must take ber turn
and be given up, or they would burn the
palace.
For eight days the king refused to yield
her up; then he sent her forth weeping, and
dressed in royal robes. She was taken to
the spot where the dragon always came to
178 SECO*DREADER
clailn his victim, and there she was chained
to await his coming.
Ai last she heard the dragon snorting as
he cane from his den. When he saw the
princess, he rushed forwal with greedy,
open jaws.
At that very moment a young knight in
armour, mounted on a milk-white steed, rode
swiftly up and ïaced the dragon.
The princess cried: "Flce for your lire,
Sir Knight." The knight, who was George of
Lydda, exclaimed: "God forbid that I, a
Christian knight, should flee and leave you
with this monster!"
"Oh! leave me to my fate, Sir Knight; for
the dragon ean never be -killed!" exclaimed
the weel,ing prineess.
But the only answer that the ight gave
was to make the sio,a of the cross and then
to hurl his gleamin spear into the dragon's
open jaws. His strenh was as the strenh
of ten, and the spear pinned the dragon to
the earth.
"Touch him now, and see how rame he
is !" said the knight to Sabra. But he had to
ST. GEORGE AN'D THE DRAGON" 179
dismount and to unchain the l»rincess before
she could approach the now harmless mon-
ster, and look upon his gleaming scales, and
examine his horrid j aws, from which no
longer came in puffs the bmath of poison
which had been death to so many.
Then the knight took his sword and smote
off the dragon's head.
After this wondcrful victory, he led the
princess back to the city, where she told
ber father the strange tale of the dragon's
death.
The Christian knight, e-er after called
"St. George," persuadcd the princess and her
father, and then ail the people of the city, to
become Christians. He would not accept
any of the gold which the king offered to
him, but ordered that it should be given to
the poor. He then bade them ail good-bye,
and rode away to do Christian service in
other lands.
Many years afterwards, in the reign of
King Edward III, St. George was declared
to be the patron saint of Christian England.
And so, in maiy a battle since, English
180 SECO.N'D READER
soldiers bave rushed to victory with the
shout: "St. George for England !"
Every year on hpril 23rd, the day of St.
George's death, the English people remember
his great deeds and the city of Lyddu, where
he lies btu'ied.
A WAKE-UP SONG
Su's up ! wind's up ! Wake up, dearles !
Leave your coverlets white and downy.
June's corne into the world this morning.
Wake up, Golden Head! Wake up,
Brownie !
Dew on the meadow-grass, waves on the
water»
Robins on the rowan tree, wondering about
you !
Don't keep the buttereups so long waiting.
Don't keep the bobolinks singing without
yO12o
Wake up, Golden Head ! Wake up, Brownie !
Cat-bird wants you in the garden soon.
You and I, butterflies, bobolinks, and clover,
We've a lot to do on the first of June.
Cas G. D.
WYNKEN, BLYzNKEN A.N'D TOD 181
WYNKEN, BLYNKEN, AND NOD
WYIIKEI% Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe--
Sailed on a river of crystal light,
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish ?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We bave corne to fish for the herring-fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold bave we !"
Said Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.
The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
182 SrCO.XD RFDER
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring-fish
That lived in that beautiful sea--
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish --
But never afeared are we ;'"
So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.
All niêht long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam--
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home.
'Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed
As if it could not be,
Ad some folks thought "twas a dream they'd
dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea--
But I shall naine you the fishermen three :
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed.
So shut your eyes while mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock on the misty sea,
LETTERS OF RECOIIENDATION 183
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen
three :
Wynken, Blynken, and bTod.
]UGEE FELD
LETTERS OF RECO5'I5'IENDATION
A gentleman once advertised for a boy to
assist him in his office, and nearly fifty
applied for the place. Out of the whole
number, he in a short rime chose one and
sent all the test away.
"I should like to know," said a friend,
"on what ground you chose that boy. He
had hot u single recommendation with him."
"You are wrong," said the gentleman;
"he had u grcat many.
"He wiped his feet when he came in and
closed the door after him, showing that he
was orderly and tidy.
"He gave up his seat instantly to that
lame old man, showing that he was kind
and considerate.
"He took off his ca l) when he came in
and answered my questions promptly and
183 SECOND READF_,R
respectfully, showing that he was polite.
"He lifted up the book which I had pur-
posely laid on the fioor and placed it on the
table, showing that he was carefuL
"And he waited quietly for his ¢urn, in-
stead of pushing the others aside, showing
that he was modest.
"When talking fo him, I noticed that his
clothes were carefully brushed, his hair was
in nice ordcr, and his teeth wcre as white as
milk. When he wrote his naine, I observed
that his finger-nails were clean, instead of
being tipped with jet.
"Don't you call aH these things recom-
mendations? I do; and they are worth
more than all the fine letters of recommen-
dation a boy can bring me."
For flowers that bloom about our feet;
For tender grass so fresh, so sweet ;
For song of bird and hum of bee;
For all things fair we hear or see,
Father in Heaven, we thank thee
A ¢ISIT FROI ST. NICHOLAS 185
:%
A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS
'TwAs the night before Christmas, when ail
through the house
Not a creature was stirring, hot even a mouse ;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with
care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there ;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their
heads ;
186 SCOD SDS
And mamma in ber kerchief, and I in my cap,
I-Iad j ust settled our brains for a long winter's
When ou on the lawn there arose such a clairet,
I sprang ïrom my bed to see what was the
malter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave a lustre of mid-day to objects below
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
lIore rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled and shouted, and called them
by naine :
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer I now, Prancer
and Vixen 1
On, Cornet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen !
To the top of the porch I to tb e top of the walll
R'ow dash away! dash away! dash away, all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the
ky,
visiT lRO sT. ICOLS 187
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys,--and St. Nicholas,
too.
And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof
The prancing and I)awing of each little hoof;
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a
bound.
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his
foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes
and soot ;
A bundle of toys he had flung on lais back,
And he looked like a pedlar just opening his
pack.
His eyes--how they twinkled ! lais dimples--
how merry !
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a
cherry !
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the
snow ;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a
wreath.
188 SECOND
He had a broad face, and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed like a bowl full of
jeUy.
He was chubby and plump,--a right jolly old
elf,--
And I laughed, when I saw him, in spite of
myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke hot a word, but went straight to his
work
And filled all the stockings ; then turned with
a jerk,
And laying hls finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to hîs team gave a
whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a
thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drew out of
sight,
"Happy Christmas to all ! and to ail a goodo
night
CLF_ C. Moo.z
JAMES .WATT AND THE TEA-KETTLE 189
JAMES WATT AND THE TEA-KETTLE
IL great men have been bo] in Scotland,
but few have done more for the world than
James Watt, boira in the town of Greenock
near Glasgow.
James Watt's father was a ship-carpenter,
and little James soon knew much of ships
and of tools. As the boy's health was not
good, he was not able to go to school so soon
as other boys. But he was never idle. He
190
was fond of drawing and of using his father's
tools.
James Watt was one of those boys who
want to know the causes of things. He
would take his toys to pieces and put them
together again.
His greatest puzzle was the steam that
came in clouds ff'oto the spout of the tea-
kettle. He bothered his grandmother and
his aunts with his endless questions:
"What is in the kettle besides water?"
"What makes the cover rattle?"
"hat is steam ?"
In lifting the cover to peep into the kettle,
he one day burned his fingers badly and was
more careful in flture.
One of his aunts once scolded him in these
words: "James Watt, I never saw such an
idle boy as you are. Take a book or employ
yourself usefullr. For the last half-hour you
have hot spoken one word, but have only
taken off the lid of that kettle and put it on
again. Why are you holding the silver
spoon over the steam and counting the drops
which fall into that cup? Are you not
JAIES WATT AND THE TEA-KETTLE 19
ashamed of spending your time in such
idleness ?"
That the boy was hot really wasting his
rime, ull the world was soon to know.
When the lad became stronger, he went
to school; but he did hot forget the steam
and the kettle. When he had to leave school
to earn his living, he went to Glasgow, and
then fo London.
His journey to London on horseback took
him twelve days. Littlc did he think that
thejourney ri'oto Glasgow to Lodon would
one day be ruade in twclve hours, on account
of his clevcrness.
After one year of study and work in
London, young Watt fell ill and had to go
back to Glasgow. There he soon ol)ened a
shop, where, with his t»ols, he ruade or re-
puired many kinds of things.
The great power of steam had long been
known, and a sort of steam-cngine had been
invented; but it was so clumsy and so ex-
pensive that it was hot of much use.
James Watt tricd for eight years to make
a perfect steam-engine, tte was poor, and
192 SECO'» RE.kDER
had to work in his little shop and at other
jobs outside, in ordcr to earn a living and
to pay his debts. He was often discouraged,
but he never gave up.
At last he succeeded. His engine worked
perfectly. People came from long distances
to see it working. Then orders for engines
came to him from all quarters, and he was
soon a well-known man.
Since the time when James Watt ruade
the first really good steam-engine, much has
been done by many clever men to improve
it. To-day tens of thousands of steam-
engines are puffing all over the world be-
cause of James Watt's per,everance.
Trains, too many to be counted, are run-
ning on steel tracks in nearly every country.
Steamships are hurrying ïrom port to port
on nearly eve" ocean. Factories in ail lands
are making goods of u thousand kinds.
It is strange to think that all these things
had their beginning in the boyhood of James
Watt, when he was so curious about the
wonders of the tea-kettle.
WHY 193
WHY ?
I know a curious little bo3r
Who is always asking, "Why?"
Why this, why that, why thon, why now,
Why hot, why by-and-by ?
He wants to know why wood should swim.
When lead and marbles sink ;
Why shine the stars, and the winds blow,
And why we eat and drink.
He wants to know what makes the clouds,
And why they cross the sky ;
Why sinks the sun behind the hills,
And why the flowers die.
He wants to know why wind should corne
From out the bellows' nose;
Why pop-guns should go pop, and why
The ocean ebbs and flows.
He wants to know why fish bave gills,
And why boys cannot fly ;
Why steam cornes from the kettle's spout,
And tain falls from the sky.
He wants to know why coal should burn,
And hot a bit of stone ;
How seeds get in the apple-core,
And marrow in the bone.
194 SECOND READER
He wants to know why ice should melt;
Why spiders eat the flies;
Why bees should sting ; and why the yeast
Should cause the dough to rise.
Some of his Vhys are not too hard
To answer, if you'll try;
Of others, no one ever yet
Has found the reason why.
JACK CORNWELL
AT a quarter lo fi,ur on he aflernon of
May31st, 1916, 1,egan the battle of Jutland--
the greatest naval battle of the Great War.
At la.t ihe Gcrman fleet had ventured to
leave sheltcr and sail out into the open sea.
It soon met u S, luadron of the British fleet
mader Admiral Beatty, who was on the look
ott for German ves.cls. Beatty's ships were
few in comparison with those of the enemy;
and in the terrible firing which began as
soon as the two forces were within reach of
each other, the British suffered severe losses.
Meanwhile, the Grand Fleet was steaming
southward to take part in the fight. Rear-
,ACK CORNW'ELL 195
Admiral Hood, who commanded the advance
guard, perceived the signs of battle in the
flashes of light and the noise of distant tir-
ing. He ordered the fast cruiser C]ester to speed
ahead and find out what was happening.
It was now
half-past rive.
Toward the
east, evening
was beginning
to darken, and
u haze was ris-
ing from the
sea. Every mo-
ment it was
becoming hard-
er to perceive
clearly he Ger-
man ships,
while those of
the British stood definitely outlined against
the western sky. In a quarter of an hour
the Chester found herself in the thick of the
fight; three or four enemy cruisers were
uniting in an attack upon her.
196 SSCOND RSADER
No part of the C]ster was more exposed
than the forward gun-turret, and this
immediately received the full force of the
enemy's tire. It was manned by u crew of
ten--one of them u boy, named Jack Cornwell.
Jack stood beside the gun, with pads
fastened over his ears. These pads were
connected by wires with the place where the
gunnery oiïicer was telephoning orders for
the aiming of the gun. It was the lad's
business to turn u disk beside him to the
number on dial which was sinalled in the
order. By the movcment of the disk, the
direction of the gun was changed in accord-
ance with the changes in the positions of the
vesscls. Whether the mark should be hit or
hot, dependcd on Jack's coolness and his
accuracy in carrying out the messages.
The power of great naval guns is terrific.
Tons of metal, flying at the rate of
three thousand feet a second, were soon
bursting around the forward turret. The eye
was almost dazzled by the flashes, the ear
was split by the noise, the lungs were choked
by the fumes of the exploding shells.
JACK CORNV'ELL 197
In u moment or two u man falls at Jack's
side, torn to pieces by the flying splinters.
Another throws up his arms and tumbles
across the deck. Jack is struck and badly
wounded, but he does hot flinch. Then u
shell bursts exactly over the gun. The turret
is shattered. Of the nine men of the gun-
crew, only two are left, who ibrtunately are
in some measure under cover. But the boy
is standing on the deck, solitary, and with-
out shelter.
No orders were coming now, and if they
were, how could the gun have been fired?
But Jack had been taught that as long as a
man remains alive, the gun mu.t not be
deserted. Alive and in terrible pain, he
stuck to his po.t. As far as he knew, there
was no witness of his conduct, though as u
fact, the Captain noticed the boy's splendid
courage.
Presently the disabled C]ester rejoined her
squadron. The wounded sailors--Jack Corn-
well among them--were carried below. The
doctors at once saw that for him there was
but little hope. He was put ashore and taken
198 sco.I)
to Grimsby Hospital. He could talk a little
and kept up a good heart. When the matron
of the Hospital asked him about the battle,
he said- "We carried on all right." They
telephoned for his mother, but there was
not rime for ber to reach him. Just before
he died, he said" "Give mother my love;
I know she is coming."
Jack Cornwell was buried with all the
honours which his country could give him.
Famous sailors and other great men followed
his coflin. To his mother the Kiug gave the
greatest honour which Britain can bestow on
ber heroes--the Victoriu Cross. He had
obeyed the call of duty, even at the cost of
liïe itself. He had "done his bit." Upon
his coffin were engraved the words-
To Jack Cornwell's mother, the Captain
Eote:
"He remained steady at his most exposed
post at the gun, waiting for orders. His gun
would hot bear on the enemy; all but two of
the crew were killed or wounded, and he was
the only one who was in such an exposed
199
position. But he felt he might be needed,
and, indeed, he might have been; so he
stayed there, standing and waiting, under
heavy tire, with j ust his own brave heart and
God's help to support him."
Jo Eo ]::[ODDERoWILIJ. MS -" "Jack Cornwell"
(Adapted)
THE BROWN THRUSH
TtERE'$ a merry brown thrush sitting up in the
tree,
He's singing to me l He's singing to me!
And what does he say, little girl, little boy?
"Oh, the world's running over with joyl
Don't you hear ? Don't you sec?
Hush! Look! Inmytree
I'm as happy as happy can be!"
And the brown thrush keeps singing : "A nest
do you see ?
And rive 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 [
200 SECOND READER
Now I'm gladl Now I'm freel
And I always shall be,
Ifyou never bring sorrow to me."
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 !
Don't you know? Don't you see ?
But long it won't be,
Unless we're as good as can be."
LucY L.acoM
THE C.ANDLE
A candle, in love with its own brilliancy,
once boasted that its light was brighter even
than that of the sun, the moon, and the
stars.
Just then a door opened, and a ptoE of
wind Llew it out.
As the owner relighted it, he said: "Cease
now your boasting. Be content to shine in
silence. Heavenly lights do hot blow out.
Know that not even the stars need to be
relit."
w mu( RO 201
THE DARING FROGGIE
ONCE UlOn a time,
On the border of a brook,
A wicked little froggie,
Who had never read a book--
Who had never read a story,
Or a funny little rhyme,
Had a sad and tragic ending,
Once upon a time.
The little froggie, sad to say,
Was very fond of flies,
And thought, on this unlucky day,
That he had found a prize.
202 SECO.N'D READER
"up, up, I go," said Froggie,
"I ean climb as well as hop;
I only hope he'll stay right there
Until I reach the top.
"I sh this wouldn't bend so much,"
Said Froggie, going higher ;
"I wish that flies would shut their
e'es,
And come a little nigher.
But he is such a good one,
And he looks so very fine,
I think that I must bave him,
For it's rime for me to dine."
So up he went, regardless
Of the danger he was in;
He saw a duck below him,
But he didn't care a pin;
Till suddenly, behind his back,
The reed began to crack,
And all he heard was just one word,
And that one word was "QçAcK !"
J_kIES C.,-:tE-.CE HAWER
A little neglect may breed great mischief.
For want of a nail the shoe was lost; for
want of a shoe the horse was lost; and for
want of a horse the rider was lost.
THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD
THE LORD is my shepherd;
I shall hot want.
He maketh me to lie down in green
10astures :
He leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul:
He guideth me in the t)aths of righteousness
for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of
the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For thou art with me:
Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me
In the presence of mine enemies :
Thou hast anointed my head with oil;
My cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy sha]l follow me all
the days of my life:
And I will dwell in the bouse of the LORD
for ever.
PSALM XX
SECO'D READER
A LITTLE FRENCH HEROINE
I.- the last vear of the Great War there lived
in u cottage just outside the old walls of the
city of Paris in France, u family of eight--
father, mother, and six children.
The eldest child, u girl, was only eight
years old, and the youngest was seven
months old.
One day the monster gtm which the Ger-
mans were firing many toiles away, sent
shell which tore the little cottage to splinters
and killed the poor mother.
The six young children ai the time were
aH ata distance, some of them at school.
The father came home at night to find his
home destroyed and his wife dead. He was
overcome with grief and anxiety, for he was
hot able to pay any one to care for the or-
phans, and he knew not what to do.
The eldest child, little Louise, told her
father that she could take care of ber rive
brothers and sisters; and from that day the
bouse was in ber care.
hTight and morning she looked after her
little brothers and sisters, washing them,
dressing or undressing them, and cooking for
them. Not only thaî, but she saw toit that
they went day after day to school, where she
went herself; and, indeed, she took prizes for
good lessons and for coming early!
For two years she brought up in pelCect
health and comfoi ber famîly of rive. She
had no thought of reward for her splendid
work. She simply went ahead and did her
best for her father, the children, and herself.
Some years before, a well-known French-
man had left a large sum of money, a pal
_'206
SECOND RFkDER
of which was every year to l,e given for some
unusual aet of heroism. The store- of Louise
had spread through the great eitv of Paris,
and it was decided that what she had done
was real heroi.-_m, and that she should re-
eeive this annual prize.
On June 20th, 1920, she, and her father,
and thê y«mng ehildren were brought to the
o1,1 Palaee in Paris where the 1,rize was to
be 1,resented. A gl'eal; ci', »wd had as.embled.
The Chairman «,f the Prize Cmmittee ealled
Louise up, and she went forward, fil'st laugh-
ing, and then erying.
Bef,re the erawd of eheering people she
he was
was handed rive hulldred francs.
only ten years old, and .,_he eould ha,lly
tmderstand what all the flss was about.
Next morning, itis said. Louise washed and
dre,ssed her littlê familv as usual. For once
she gave eaeh of them thê rieh treat of
fl'esh egg f«»l" bl'eakfitst, and then marehed
them off fo sehool again.
This wondelful Freneh girl is still emSng
for ber family of rive. Evm T day you ean
imagine her at her labour of love.
GOLDEN TOUCH 207
THE GOLDEN TOUCH
Oxcv, upon a rime there lived a very rich
man, and a King ho wa,, whose naine wus
Midas. This King was fondêr of gold than
of anything elsê in thê world.
Although he had a golden erown, and
golden dishes, and much glden coin in a
strong box, he was hot satisfied. He wanted
more and llore gold.
So one day he exclaimed- "I wish every-
°0Q SECOND READFR
thing that I touch could be turned to gold!"
Looking up, he saw a stranger standing
by his side, who said in u quiet voice"
"To-morrow at sunrise you shall have the
Golden Touch, and everything that you
touch will at once turn to gold."
Mi(las was vcT proud and very happy.
lqe rose early next day, and as he passed
out into the garden, he touched the branch
of an oak tree, and it became ,-t rod of solid
gold. He picked up ,-t stone near the path,
and it became a lump of gold. Fie plucked
a rose from hush, and the rose became in
Iris hand a beautiful golden flower.
"iNow I shall be rich indeed," he said.
lqe then entered hi,s palace and ordered
his servants to bring ail his cups and dishes.
lqe touched them one afler another, and they
all turned to gold. lqi,s chair was next
touchêd, with the saine result.
"Now bring me food and drink, and I
shall rare better than any man ever fared,"
he said.
The servants put before him the best food
and drink that could be lbund. What was
TI-IE GOLDEN TOUCH 209
his surprise, however, when he raised some
bread to his mouth, to find it was slice of
gold. Then he tried to cat some meat, but
it, also, was changcd to gold. So with his
fruit, and so with the wine in his glass. Now
he could neither eat nor drink. "I shall
starve to deth, I fear," said the foolish
Iidas.
Just then his beautiful young daughter
came in, and, pas.ing his chair, she kissed
him. At once she turned to beautiful
statue of gold.
The servants fled in terrçr and the King
was most miserable. He rose and pced the
room in agony. "Oh, take away this Golden
Touch!" he exclimed, callLng out to the
empty room.
Then he saw at the door the smiling
stranger who had granted his request of the
day before. "Take way," he cried, "this
cursed Golden Touch, for I ara miserble,
and I shall stm'e to death!"
He was told to bathe in the waters of the
nearest stream, and the curse would le,ve
him. He quic-kly obeyed, and then ordered
210 SECON'D R F_,2X)ER
his servants to carat his daughter to the
stream, to restore her to her former state of
flesh and blood.
The watçr of that stream ever aftc
sparklcd with golden .sand.s, and his daughter
ever after had golden hair, to remind Midas
of his fooli.sh wi.-_h ibr the Golden Touch.
WATER
Water is a lovelv thing:
Dark and ripply in a spring;
tlack and quiet in a pool,
In a puddle brown and cool;
In a river blue and gay,
In a rain-drop silver-gray;
In a ïountain fiashing white,
In a dewdrop crs'stal bright;
In a pitcher frosty-cold,
In a bubble pink and gold;
In a happy summer sea
Just as green as green can be;
In a rainbow, far unïurled,
Everv colour in the world.
Ail the year, ïrom spring to spring,
Water is the loveliest thing!
NA.NCY B£RD TL'RXF_.S
How OEn Gs Too wuo 211
HOW THE GREEKS TOOK TROY
¢ow Paris, son to Pam King of Troy, had
carried away to his father's city, Helen, wife
to lIenelaus King of Sparta, the fairest
woman in all Greece. Whereupon the chiefs
of the Greeks banded themselves together to
avenge the wrong done to lIenelaus. Hav-
ing gathered a mighty fleet at Aulis, they
sailed across the ,Egean Sea and laid siege
to Troy. But tho Trojans, issuing forth on
212 SECOND IEADER
the plain before their city, gave battle to
their enemies and fought for their city so
valiantly that for ten years the Greeks
besieged it in -ain.
So, whcn fighting could hot win the city,
the Greeks saw that they must gain their
end by craft. And taking counsel with
Ulysses, the wiliest of them all, they devised
a cunning plan. They built a huge wooden
horse and spread abroad a rumour that it
was an offering to ][inerva for their safe
return. In its hollow sides they laid the
bravest of their warriors and, breaking up
their camp and launching their ships, they
sailed away as if returning home. h'ot far
off lay the island of Tenedos and hiding
there the Greeks bided their time.
]Ieanwhile the Trojans, rejoicing that their
long troubles were at an end, went forth in
nmltitudes from the city gates to see their
enemies' camp, and wondered much to behold
the wooden horse, low, whilst they were
doubting as to what they should do with
this, there appeared among them a certain
HOW THE GIEEKS TOOK TIOY 213
Greek named Sinon, left behind for that very
purpose. His hands were bound and he
was besmeared with blood and filth. With
bitter cries he lamented his fate and prayed
for pity. "For," said he, "the Greeks chose
me as a victim to sacrifice to the gods for
their safe return. But I escaped out of
their hands and hid myself all night in the
sedge. And now my countrnnen ar6 sailed
away and never again shall I see my father-
land and the children whom I love."
Then the Trojans bade him tobe of good
cheer and to tell them what this monstrous
horse might mean. And Sinon, as the crafty
Ulysses had instructed him, answered how
that the horse was a peace-offering to
Minerva, and how the Greeks had ruade it
thus huge, lest perchance the Trojans might
drag it through their gates and bring a
blessing upon the city.
Thereupon the Trojans cried with one
voice that the sacred offering of 5Iinerva
must be drawn within the city walls. So
they ruade a great breach in the walls, and
l SECO" D READER
put rollers mder the monstel', and fastened
roi»es about it, and with hymns and dancing
they drew it into the hea of the city.
But now when night drew on and dal'k-
ness fell ni»on the sleeping Troy, the Grecian
fleet stole silentlv back to the familiar lalld-
ing 1,lace. Suddenly the signal flame shot
forth and the treacherous Sinon unbarred the
wooden horse. Uh'sses and his fellow chier-
tains glided out into the silent streets. The
guards slain, the gates were thrown Ol,en,
the city was i,resently in flames, and Troy,
that had delbnded bel'self for ton vears
against the powers of ber enemies, fell in a
single night before their craft.
IF men cared less for wealth and faine,
And less for battle-fields and glory ;
If writ in human hearts, a naine
Seemed better than in song and story ;
If men, instead of nursing pride,
Would learn to hate it and abhor it;
If more relied on Love to guide,
The world would be the better for it.
M. H. Coss
TE CH.DRE'S nouR 215
THE CHILDREN'S HOUR
BETWEEN the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupations,
That is known as the children's hour.
I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices sort and sweet.
9.16 SECOID READER
From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.
A whisper, and then a silence:
Yet I know by their rnerry eyes
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.
A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall !
]y three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!
They climb up into my turret
O'er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me ;
They seem to be ever'where.
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the ]ishop of ]ingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine !
Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,
]ecause you have scaled the wall,
Such an old moustache as I am
Is hot a match for you all!
TtIE CtIILDREI'S tIOUR 217
I have you fast in my fortress,
And will hot let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.
And there will I keep you for ever,
Yes, for ever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away !
LON FELLO W'
Mv son, if thou wilt receive ny words, and
hide my commandments with thee; so that
thou incline thine ear unto wisdom, and
apply thine heart to understanding; yea, if
thou criest after knowledge, and lifte,t up
thy voice for understanding; if thou seekest
ber as si]ver, and searchest for ber as for hid
treasures; then shalt thou understand the
ïear of the LORD, and find the knowledge of
God. For the LORD giveth wisdom: out of
His mouth cometh knowledge and under-
standing. He layeth up sound wisdom for
the righteous: He is a buckler to them that
walk uprightly.
PROVERBS, II
218 S.COD a)R
ABIDE WITH ME
ABIDE with me I fast falls the eventide ;
The darkness deepens; LORD with me abidel
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me!
Swift to its close ebbs out life's little dav;
Earth's joys grow dira, its glories pass away ;
Change and decay in all around I sec;
O Thou who changest hot, abide with me!
I need Thy Presence every passing hour:
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's
power ?
Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, O abide with me/
I fear no foe with Thee at hand to bless ;
Ills bave no weight and tears no bitterness.
Where is death's sting ? where, Grave, thy
victorv ?
I triumph still if Thou abide with me!
tIFu Fcs
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