Chapter 2

The child the while, with soft, sweet smile, Forgetful of all sorrow, Lay soundly sleeping in his bed. The good man kissed him there, and said: "You leave us not to-morrow!

"I pray you, rest the convent's guest; This child shall be our own-- A precious care, while you prepare Your business with the court, and bear Your message to the throne."

And so his guest he comforted. O wise, good prior! to you, Who cheered the stranger's darkest days, And helped him on his way, what praise And gratitude are due!

_J.T. Trowbridge._

By permission of the author.

* * * * *

Where is Palos? What is it noted for?

Who was the "good man" spoken of in the poem?

In the line "The traveler's dreams he heard," who was the traveler? Relate the story of his dreams. Why are they called dreams? Did the dreams become facts? In what way?

How did the monks of this convent assist Columbus?

How did the Queen of Spain assist him?

Why is it that in the geography of our country we meet with so many Catholic names?

* * * * *

Memory Gem:

Press on! There's no such word as fail! Push nobly on! The goal is near! Ascend the mountain! Breast the gale! Look upward, onward,--never fear!

* * * * *

_9_

THE LITTLE FERN.

A great many centuries ago, when the earth was even more beautiful than it is now, there grew in one of the many valleys a dainty little fern leaf. All around the tiny plant were many others, but none of them so graceful and delicate as this one I tell you of. Every day the cheery breezes sought out their playmate, and the merry sunbeams darted in and out, playing hide-and-seek among reeds and rushes; and when the twilight shadows deepened, and the sunbeams had all gone away, the little fern curled itself up for the night with only the dewdrops for company.

So day after day went by: and no one knew of, or found the sweet wild fern, or the beautiful valley it grew in. But--for this was a very long time ago--a great change took place in the earth; and rocks and soil were upturned, and the rivers found new channels to flow in.

Now, when all this happened, the little fern was quite covered up with the soft moist clay, and perhaps you think it might as well never have lived as to have been hidden away where none could see it.

But after all, it was not really lost; for hundreds of years afterwards, when all that clay had become stone, and had broken into many fragments, a very wise and learned man found the bit of rock upon which was all the delicate tracery of the little fern leaf, with outline just as perfect and lovely as when, long, long ago it had swayed to the breezes in its own beautiful valley.

And so wonderful did it seem to the wise man, that he took the fern leaf home with him and placed it in his cabinet where all could admire it; and where, if they were thoughtful and clever enough, they could think out the story for themselves and find the lesson which was hidden away with the fern in the bit of rock.

Lesson! did I say? Well, let's not call it a lesson, but only a truth which it will do every one of us good to remember; and that is, that none of the beauty in this fair world around us, nor anything that is sweet and lovely in our own hearts, and lives, will ever be useless and lost. For, as the little fern leaf lay hidden away for years and years, and yet finally was found by the wise man and given a place with his other rare and precious possessions where it could still, though silently, aid those who looked upon it; so we, as boys and girls, men and women who are to be, can now, day by day, cultivate all lovely traits of character, making ourselves ready to take our place in the world's work. And when that time comes we shall not only be able to aid others silently, as did the little fern, but may also, by word and deed, lend a hand to each and every one around us.

_Mara L. Pratt._

From "Fairyland of Flowers." The Educational Publishing Co.

* * * * *

Break up the following words into their syllables, and place the accent mark where it belongs in each:

outline, tracery, cabinet, delicate, finally, character, hundreds, centuries, remember, beautiful, possessions. Show the correct use of the words in original sentences. The dictionary will help you in the work.

Name some of the traits of character that will help a boy or a girl to be truly successful in life.

* * * * *

Memory Gems:

The child is father of the man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.

_Wordsworth_.

Truth alone makes life rich and great.

_Emerson_.

There is a tongue in every leaf-- A voice in every rill-- A voice that speaketh everywhere-- In flood and fire, through earth and air, A tongue that's never still.

_Anon_.

* * * * *

_10_

blithe whistler mellow replied cheery skylark

HELPING MOTHER.

As I went down the street to-day, I saw a little lad Whose face was just the kind of face To make a person glad. It was so plump and rosy-cheeked, So cheerful and so bright, It made me think of apple-time. And filled me with delight.

I saw him busy at his work, While blithe as skylark's song His merry, mellow whistle rang The pleasant street along. "Oh, that's the kind of lad I like!" I thought as I passed by; "These busy, cheery, whistling boys Make grand men by and by."

Just then a playmate came along, And leaned across the gate-- A plan that promised lots of fun And frolic to relate. "The boys are waiting for us now, So hurry up!" he cried; My little whistler shook his head, And "Can't come," he replied.

"Can't come? Why not, I'd like to know? What hinders?" asked the other. "Why, don't you see," came the reply, "I'm busy helping mother? She's lots to do, and so I like To help her all I can; So I've no time for fun just now," Said this dear little man.

"I like to hear you talk like that," I told the little lad; "Help mother all you can, and make Her kind heart light and glad." It does me good to think of him, And know that there are others Who, like this manly little boy, Take hold and help their mothers.

LANGUAGE WORK:

Describe the little lad spoken of in the poem. Do you know any boy like him?

Tell what this "little man" said to his playmate.

When night came, was the boy sorry that he had missed so much fun? What kind of man did he very likely grow up to be?

* * * * *

_11_

rid' dle brand'-new mys' ter y un rav' el like' ness es

A CONTENTED WORKMAN.

Once upon a time, Frederick, King of Prussia, surnamed "Old Fritz," took a ride, and saw an old laborer plowing his land by the wayside cheerily singing his song.

"You must be well off, old man," said the king. "Does this land on which you are working so hard belong to you?"

"No, sir," replied the laborer, who knew not that it was the king; "I am not so rich as that; I plow for wages."

"How much do you get a day?" asked the king.

"Two dollars," said the laborer.

"That is not much," replied the king; "can you get along with that?"

"Yes; and have something left."

"How is that?"

The laborer smiled, and said, "Well, if I must tell you, fifty cents are for myself and wife; with fifty I pay my old debts, fifty I lend, and fifty I give away for the Lord's sake."

"That is a mystery which I cannot solve," replied the king.

"Then I will solve it for you," said the laborer. "I have two old parents at home, who kept me when I was weak and needed help; and now, that they are weak and need help, I keep them. This is my debt, towards which I pay fifty cents a day. The third fifty cents, which I lend, I spend for my children, that they may receive Christian instruction. This will come handy to me and my wife when we get old. With the last fifty I maintain two sick sisters. This I give for the Lord's sake."

The king, well pleased with his answer, said, "Bravely spoken, old man. Now I will also give you something to guess. Have you ever seen me before?"

"Never," said the laborer.

"In less than five minutes you shall see me fifty times, and carry in your pocket fifty of my likenesses."

"That is a riddle which I cannot unravel," said the laborer.

"Then I will do it for you," replied the king. Thrusting his hand into his pocket, and counting fifty brand-new gold pieces into his hand, stamped with his royal likeness, he said to the astonished laborer, who knew not what was coming, "The coin is good, for it also comes from our Lord God, and I am his paymaster. I bid you good-day."

* * * * *

Memory Gems:

The working men, whatever their task, Who carve the stone, or bear the hod, They wear upon their honest brows The royal stamp and seal of God; And worthier are their drops of sweat Than diamonds in a coronet.

Give fools their gold, and knaves their power; Let fortune's bubbles rise and fall; Who sows a field, or trains a flower, Or plants a tree, is more than all.

_Whittier_.

* * * * *

_12_

con' script in dis pen' sa ble im' ple ment in de fea' si bly

TWO LABORERS.

Two men I honor, and no third. First, the toil worn craftsman, that with earth-made implement laboriously conquers the earth, and makes her man's. Venerable to me is the hard hand, crooked, coarse, wherein, notwithstanding, lies a cunning virtue, indefeasibly royal, as of the scepter of this planet. Venerable, too, is the rugged face, all weather tanned, besoiled, with its rude intelligence; for it is the face of a man living manlike.

Oh, but the more venerable for thy rudeness, and even because I must pity as well as love thee! Hardly entreated brother! For us was thy back so bent, for us were thy straight limbs and fingers so deformed. Thou wert our conscript on whom the lot fell and, fighting our battles, wert so marred. Yet toil on, toil on; ... thou toilest for the altogether indispensable,--for daily bread.

A second man I honor, and still more highly; him who is seen toiling for the spiritually indispensable; not daily bread, but the bread of life. Is not he, too, in his duty; endeavoring towards inward harmony; revealing this, by act or word, through all his outward endeavors, be they high or low? Highest of all, when his outward and his inward endeavor are one; when we can name him artist; not earthly craftsman only, but inspired thinker, that with heaven-made implement conquers heaven for us!

If the poor and humble toil that we may have food, must not the high and glorious toil for him, in return, that he may have light and guidance, freedom, immortality?--these two, in all their degrees, I honor; all else is chaff and dust, which let the wind blow whither it listeth.

Unspeakably touching it is, however, when I find both dignities united; and he, that must toil outwardly for the lowest of man's wants, is also toiling inwardly for the highest. Sublimer in this world know I nothing than a peasant saint. Such a one will take thee back to Nazareth itself; thou wilt see the splendor of heaven spring forth from the humblest depths of earth like a light shining in great darkness.

_Thomas Carlyle._

* * * * *

Laws are like cobwebs, where the small flies are caught, and the great break through.

_Bacon_.

* * * * *

_13_

gust thief mop' ing awk' ward pet' tish ly in dig' nant un bear' a ble med' dle some en light' ened in quis' i tive

THE GRUMBLING PUSS.

"What's the matter?" said Growler to the gray cat, as she sat moping on the top of the garden wall.

"Matter enough," said the cat, turning her head another way, "Our cook is very fond of talking of hanging me. I wish heartily some one would hang _her_."

"Why, what _is_ the matter?" repeated Growler.

"Hasn't she beaten me, and called me a thief, and threatened to be the death of me?"

"Dear, dear!" said Growler; "pray what has brought it about?"

"Oh, nothing at all; it is her temper. All the servants complain of it. I wonder they haven't hanged her long ago."

"Well, you see," said Growler, "cooks are awkward things to hang; you and I might be managed much more easily."

"Not a drop of milk have I had this day!" said the gray cat; "and such a pain in my side!"

"But what," said Growler, "what is the cause?"

"Haven't I told you?" said the gray cat, pettishly; "it's her temper:--oh, what I have had to suffer from it! Everything she breaks she lays to me; everything that is stolen she lays to me. Really, it is quite unbearable!"

Growler was quite indignant; but, being of a reflective turn, after the first gust of wrath had passed, he asked: "But was there no particular cause this morning?"

"She chose to be very angry because I--I offended her," said the cat.

"How, may I ask?" gently inquired Growler.

"Oh, nothing worth telling,--a mere mistake of mine."

Growler looked at her with such a questioning expression, that she was compelled to say, "I took the wrong thing for my breakfast."

"Oh!" said Growler, much enlightened.

"Why, the fact is," said the gray cat, "I was springing at a mouse, and knocked down a 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 that meddlesome cook hadn't come in. As it was, I left the head."

"The head of what?" said Growler.

"How inquisitive you are!" said the gray cat.

"Nay, but I should like to know," said Growler.

"Well, then, of a certain fine fish that was meant for dinner."

"Then," said Growler, "say what you please; but, now that I've heard the whole story, I only wonder she did _not_ hang you."

* * * * *

Fill the following blanks with words that will make complete sentences:

Mary -- here, and Susan and Agnes -- coming. They -- delayed on the road. Mother -- to come with them, but she and father -- obliged to wait till to-morrow.

Puss said to Growler, "I -- not -- a drop of milk to-day, and -- not -- any yesterday."

I -- my work well now. Yesterday I -- it fairly well. To-morrow I shall -- it perfectly.

The boys -- their best, though they -- the game.

John--now the boys he -- last week. He -- not -- them before.

NOTE.--Let two pupils read or recite the conversational parts of this selection, omitting the explanatory matter, while the other pupils simply listen. If done with expressive feeling and in a perfectly natural tone, it will prove quite an interesting exercise. To play or act the story of a selection helps to develop the imagination.

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_14_

scared swerve gur' gle rip' ples cur' rent mum' bling ly

THE BROOK SONG.

Little brook! Little brook! You have such a happy look-- Such a very merry manner, as you swerve and curve and crook-- And your ripples, one and one, Reach each other's hands and run Like laughing little children in the sun!

Little brook, sing to me; Sing about the bumblebee That tumbled from a lily bell and grumbled mumblingly, Because he wet the film Of his wings, and had to swim, While the water bugs raced round and laughed at him.

Little brook--sing a song Of a leaf that sailed along Down the golden-hearted center of your current swift and strong, And a dragon fly that lit On the tilting rim of it, And rode away and wasn't scared a bit.

And sing--how oft in glee Came a truant boy like me, Who loved to lean and listen to your lilting melody, Till the gurgle and refrain Of your music in his brain Wrought a happiness as keen to him as pain.

Little brook--laugh and leap! Do not let the dreamer weep: Sing him all the songs of summer till he sink in softest sleep; And then sing soft and low Through his dreams of long ago-- Sing back to him the rest he used to know!

_James Whitcomb Riley_.

From "Rhymes of Childhood." Used by special permission of the publishers, The Bobbs-Merrill Co. Copyright, 1900.

* * * * *

RIPPLES, little curling waves FILM, a thin skin or slight covering.

CURRENT, the swiftest part of a stream; also applied to _air, electricity_, etc.

What do the following expressions mean: tilting rim, lilting melody, softest sleep, gurgle and refrain, a happiness as keen to him as pain?

What is a lullaby? Recite a stanza of one.

Insert _may_ or _can_ properly where you see a dash in the following: The boy said, "--I leave the room?" "Mother, I--climb the ladder;--I?"--a dog climb a tree?--I ask a favor?

Copy the following words--they are often misspelled: loving, using, till, until, queer, fulfil, speech, muscle, quite, scheme, success, barely, college, villain, salary, visitor, remedy, hurried, forty-four, enemies, twelfth, marriage, immense, exhaust.

By means of the suffixes, _er, est, ness_, form three new words from each of the following words: happy, sleepy, lively, greedy, steady, lovely, gloomy.

Example: From happy,--happier, happiest, happiness. Note the change of _y_ to _i_.

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_15_

rag'ged crin'kly rub'bish fil'tered protect'ed disor'derly disturbed' imme'diately

THE STORY OF THE SEED-DOWN.

I.

High above the earth, over land and sea, floated the seed-down, borne on the autumn wind's strong arms.

"Here shall you lie, little seed-down," said he at last, and put it down on the ground, and laid a fallen leaf over it. Then he flew away immediately, because he had much to look after.

That was in the dark evening, and the seed could not see where it was placed, and besides, the leaf covered it.

Something heavy came now, and pressed so hard that the seed came near being destroyed; but the leaf, weak though it was, protected it.

It was a human foot which walked along over the ground, and pressed the downy seed into the earth. When the foot was withdrawn, the earth fell, and filled the little pit it had made.

The cold came, and the snow fell several feet deep; but the seed lay quietly down there, waiting for warmth and light. When the spring came, and the snow melted away, the plant shot up out of the earth.

There was a little gray cottage beside which it grew up. The tiny plant could not see very far around, because rubbish and brush-heaps lay near it, and the little window was so gray and dusty that it could not peep into the cottage either.

"Who lives here?" asked the little thing.

"Don't you know that?" asked the ragged shoe, which lay near. "Why, the smith who drinks so much lives here, and his wife who wore me out."

And then she told how it looked inside, how life went on there, and it was not cheering; no, but fearfully sad. The shoe knew it all well, and told a whole lot in a few minutes, because she had such a well-hung tongue.

Now there came a pair of ragged children, running--the smith's boy and girl; he was six years old and the girl eight, so the shoe said, after they were gone.

"Oh, see, what a pretty little plant!" said the girl. "So now, I shall pull it up," said the boy, and the plant trembled to the root's heart.

"No, do not do it!" said the girl. "We must let it grow. Do you not see what pretty crinkly leaves it has? It will have lovely flowers, I know, when it grows bigger."

And it was allowed to stay there. The children took a stick and dug up the earth round about, so it looked like a plowed field. Then they threw the shoe and the sweepings a little way off, because they thought to make the place look better.

"You cannot think," said the shoe, after the children had gone, "you cannot think how in the way folks are!"

"The children have to give themselves airs, and pretend to be very orderly," said the half of a coffee-cup; and she broke in another place she was so disturbed.

But the sun shone warmly and the rain filtered down in the upturned earth. Then leaf after leaf unfolded, and in a few days the plant was several inches high.

"Oh, see!" said the children, who came again; "see how beautiful it is getting!"

"Come, father, come! brother and I have discovered such a pretty plant! Come and see it!" begged the girl.

The father glanced at it. The plant looked so lovely on the little rough bit of soil which lay between the piles of sweepings.

The smith nodded to the children.

"It looks very disorderly here," he said to himself, and stopped an instant. "Yes, indeed, it does!" He went along, but thought of the little green spot, with the lovely plant in the midst of it.

* * * * *

II.

pet' als in' mates scrubbed fra' grant

The children ran into the house.

"Mother," said they, "there is such a rare plant growing right by the window!"

The mother wished to glance out, but the window was so thick with dust that she could not do so. She wiped off a little spot.

"My! My!" said she, when she noticed how dirty the window looked beside the cleaned spot; so she wiped the whole window.

"That is an odd plant," said she, looking at it. "But how dreadfully dirty it is out in the yard!"

Now that the sun shone in through the window it became very light in the cottage. The mother looked at the ragged children and at the rubbish in the room, and the blood rushed over her pale cheeks.

"It is a perfect shame!" she murmured. "I have never noticed that it was so untidy here."

She hurried around, and set the room to rights, and, when that was done, she washed the dirty floor. She scrubbed it so hard that her hands smarted as if she had burned them in the fire; she did not stop until every spot was white.

It was evening; the husband came home from work. The wife sat mending the girl's ragged dress. The man stopped in the door. It looked so strange to him within, and the look his wife gave him was brighter than ever before, he thought.

"Go--God's peace!" he stammered. It was a long time since such a greeting had been heard in here.

"God's peace!" answered she; "wel--welcome home!" She had not said this for many years.

The smith stepped forward to the window; on the bed beside it the two children lay sleeping. He looked at them, then he looked out on the mound where the little plant stood. After a few minutes he went out.

A deep sigh rose from the woman's breast. She had hoped that he would stay home that evening. Two great tears fell on the little dress.

In a few minutes she heard a noise outside. She went to the window to see what it could be. Her husband had not gone away! He was out in the yard clearing up the brush-heaps and rubbish.

She became more happy than she had been for a long time. He glanced in through the window and saw her. Then she nodded, he nodded back, and they both smiled.

"Be careful, above all, of the little plant!" said she.

Warm and sunny days came. The smith stayed at home now every evening. It was green and lovely round the little cottage, and outside the window there was a whole flower-bed, with many blossoms; but in the midst stood the little plant the autumn wind had brought thither.

The smith's family stood around the flower-bed, and talked about the flowers.

"But the plant that brother and I found is the most beautiful of all," said the girl.

"Yes, indeed it is," said the parents.

The smith bent down and took one of the leaves in his hand, but very carefully, because he was afraid he might hurt it with his thick, coarse fingers.