Chapter 2

It was the voice of the child who had said, "I am going to heaven!" and the father cried, "I pray not yet. The sunset is very near. I pray not yet."

But the voice called, "Mother, mother!" without minding him, though his hair was now quite white, and tears were on his face.

Then the mother, who was already drawn into the shade of the dark avenue, and moving away with her arms still around his neck, kissed him and said, "My dearest, I am summoned, and I go!" And she was gone. The traveler and he were left alone together.

And they went on and on, until they came very near to the end of the wood; so near, that they could see the setting sun shining red before them through the trees.

Yet once more, while he broke his way among the branches, the traveler lost his friend. He called and called, but there was no reply, and when he passed out of the wood and saw the peaceful sun going down upon a wide purple prospect, he came to an old man sitting upon a fallen tree. He said to the old man, "What do you here?" And the old man said, with a calm smile, "I am always remembering. Come and remember with me."

So the traveler sat down by the side of the old man, face to face with the serene sunset; and all his friends came softly back and stood around him. The beautiful child, the handsome boy, the young man, the father, mother, and children every one of them was there, and he had lost nothing. He loved them all, and was kind and forbearing with them all, and they all honored and loved him.

DEFINITIONS:--Scents, smells. Cricket, a game at ball very popular in England.Solitary, alone. Summoned, called. Allegory, a truth related in the form of a story.

WHAT I LIVE FOR.

I live for those who love me, Whose hearts are kind and true, For the heaven that smiles above me, And awaits my spirit, too; For all human ties that bind me, For the task my God assigned me, For the bright hopes left behind me, And the good that I can do. I live to learn their story, Who suffered for my sake; To emulate their glory, And follow in their wake; Bards, patriots, martyrs, sages, The noble of all ages, Whose deeds crown History's pages, And Time's great volume make.

I live to hail that season, By gifted minds foretold, When man shall live by reason, And not alone by gold; When man to man united, And every wrong thing righted, The whole world shall be lighted As Eden was of old.

I live for those who love me, For those who know me true; For the heaven that smiles above me, And awaits my spirit, too; For the cause that needs assistance, For the wrongs that need resistance, For the future in the distance, And the good that I can do.

DEFINITIONS:--Assigned, allotted, marked out. Emulate, to strive to equal or excel, to rival. Wake, the track left by a vessel in the water; hence, figuratively, in the trail of. Bard, a poet. Martyr, one who scarifices what is of great value to him for the sake of principle. Sage, a wise man.

TRY AGAIN!

BY CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH.

"Will you give my kite a lift?" said my little nephew to his sister, after trying in vain to make it fly by dragging it along the ground. Lucy very kindly took it up and threw it into the air, but, her brother neglecting to run off at the same moment, the kite fell down again.

"Ah! now, how awkward you are!" said the little fellow. "It was your fault entirely," answered his sister. "Try again, children," said I.

Lucy once more took up the kite. But now John was in too great a hurry; he ran off so suddenly that he twitched the kite out of her hand, and it fell flat as before. "Well, who is to blame now?" asked Lucy. "Try again," said I.

They did, and with more care; but a side wind coming suddenly, as Lucy let go the kite, it was blown against some shrubs, and the tail became entangled in a moment, leaving the poor kite hanging with its head downward.

"There, there!" cried John, "that comes of your throwing it all to one side." "As if I could make the wind blow straight," said Lucy. In the meantime, I went to the kite's assistance; and having disengaged the long tail, I rolled it up, saying, "Come, children, there are too many trees here; let us find a more open space, and then try again."

We soon found a fine, open space, covered with green grass, and free from shrubs and trees. Then, all things being ready, I tossed the kite up just as little John ran off. It rose with all the dignity of a balloon, and promised a lofty flight; but John, delighted to find it pulling so hard at the string, stopped short to look upward and admire. The string slackened, the kite wavered, and, the wind not being very strong, down came the kite to the grass. "O John, you should not have stopped," said I. "However, try again."

"I won't try any more," replied he, rather sullenly. "It is of no use, you see. The kite won't fly, and I don't want to be plagued with it any longer."

"Oh, fie, my little man! would you give up the sport, after all the pains we have taken both to make and to fly the kite? A few disappointments ought not to discourage us. Come, I have wound up your string, and now try again."

And he did try, and succeeded, for the kite was carried upward on the breeze as lightly as a feather; and when the string was all out, John stood in great delight, holding fast the stick and gazing on the kite, which now seemed like a little white speck in the blue sky. "Look, look, aunt, how high it flies! and it pulls like a team of horses, so that I can hardly hold it. I wish I had a mile of string: I am sure it would go to the end of it."

After enjoying the sight as long as he wished, little John proceeded to roll up the string slowly; and when the kite fell, he took it up with great glee, saying that it was not at all hurt, and that it had behaved very well. "Shall we come out to-morrow, aunt, and try again?"

"Yes, my dear, if the weather is fine. And now, as we walk home, tell me, what you have learned from your morning's sport."

"I have learned to fly my kite properly."

"You may thank aunt for it, brother," said Lucy, "for you would have given it up long ago, if she had not persuaded you to try again."

"Yes, dear children, I wish to teach you the value of perseverance, even when nothing more depends upon it than the flying of a kite. Whenever you fail in your attempts to do any good thing, let your motto be,--TRY AGAIN."

DEFINITIONS:--Entangled, twisted in, disordered. Assistance, help, aid. Disengaged, cleared, set free. Dignity, majestic manner. Disappointments, failures or defeats of expectation. Discourage, take away courage. Glee, joy. Perseverance, continuance in anything once begun. Motto, a short sentence or a word full of meaning.

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

TRUE MANLINESS.

I.

"Please, mother, do sit down and let me try my hand," said Fred Liscom, a bright active boy, twelve years old. Mrs. Liscom, looking pale and worn, was moving languidly about, trying to clear away the breakfast she had scarcely tasted.

She smiled, and said, "You, Fred, you wash dishes?" "Yes, indeed, mother," answered Fred; "I should be a poor scholar if I couldn't, when I've seen you do it so many times. Just try me."

A look of relief came over his mother's face as she seated herself in her low rocking-chair. Fred washed the dishes and put them in the closet. He swept the kitchen, brought up the potatoes from the cellar for the dinner and washed them, and then set out for school.

Fred's father was away from home, and as there was some cold meat in the pantry, Mrs. Liscom found it an easy task to prepare dinner. Fred hurried home from school, set the table, and again washed the dishes.

He kept on in this way for two or three days, till his mother was able to resume her usual work, and he felt amply rewarded when the doctor, who happened in one day, said, "Well, madam, it's my opinion that you would have been very sick if you had not kept quiet."

The doctor did not know how the "quiet" had been secured, nor how the boy's heart bounded at his words. Fred had given up a great deal of what boys hold dear, for the purpose of helping his mother, coasting and skating being just at this time in perfection.

Besides this, his temper and his patience had been severely. tried. He had been in the habit of going early to school, and staying to play after it was dismissed.

The boys missed him, and their curiosity was excited when he would give no other reason for not coming to school earlier, or staying after school, than that he was "wanted at home."

"I'll tell you," said Tom Barton, "I'll find him out, boys--see if I don't!"

So, one morning on his way to school, he called for Fred. As he went around to the side door he walked lightly. and somewhat nearer the kitchen window than was absolutely needful. Looking in, he saw Fred standing at the table with a dishcloth in his hand.

Of course he reported this at school, and various were the greetings poor Fred received at recess. "Well, you're a brave one to stay at home washing dishes!" "Girl boy!" "Pretty Bessie!" "Lost your apron, haven't you, Polly!"

Fred was not wanting either in spirit or in courage, and he was strongly tempted to resent these insults, and to fight some of his tormentors. But his consciousness of right and his love for his mother helped him.

While he was struggling for self mastery, his teacher appeared at the door of the schoolhouse. Fred caught his eye, and it seemed to look, if it did not say, "Don't give up! Be really brave!" He knew the teacher had heard the insulting taunts of his thoughtless schoolmates.

The boys received notice during the day that Fred must not be taunted or teased in any manner. They knew that the teacher meant what he said; and so the brave little boy had no further trouble.

II.

"Fire! fire! " The cry crept out on the still night air, and the fire bells began to mug. Fred was wakened by the alarm and the red light streaming into his room. He dressed himself very quickly, and then tapped at the door of his mother's bedroom.

"It is Mr. Barton's house, mother. Do let me go," he said in eager, excited tones. Mrs. Liscom thought a moment. He was young, but she could trust him, and she knew how much his heart was in the request.

"Yes, you may go," she answered; "but be careful, my boy. If you can help, do so; but do nothing rashly." Fred promised to follow her advice, and hurried to the fire.

Mr. and Mrs. Barton were not at home. The house had been left in charge of the servants. The fire spread with fearful speed, for there was a high wind, and it was found impossible to save the house. The servants ran about screaming and lamenting, but doing nothing to any purpose.

Fred found Tom outside, in safety. "Where is Katy?" he asked. Tom, trembling with terror, seemed to have had no thought but of his own escape. He said, "Katy is in the house!" "In what room?" asked Fred. "In that one," answered Tom, pointing to a window in the upper story.

It was no time for words, but for instant, vigorous action. The staircase was already on fire; there was but one way to reach Katy, and that full of danger. The second floor might fall at any moment, and Fred knew it. But he trusted in an arm stronger than his own, and silently sought help and guidance.

A ladder was quickly brought, and placed against the house. Fred mounted it, followed by the hired man, dashed in the sash of the window, and pushed his way into the room where the poor child lay nearly suffocated with smoke.

He roused her with some difficulty, carried her to the window, and placed her upon the sill. She was instantly grasped by strong arms, and carried down the ladder, Fred following as fast as possible. They had scarcely reached the ground before a crash of falling timbers told them that they had barely escaped with their lives.

Tom Barton never forgot the lesson of that night; and he came to believe, and to act upon the belief, in after years, that true manliness is in harmony with gentleness, kindness, and self-denial.

DEFINITIONS:--Languidly, feebly. Amply, fully. Opinion, judgment, belief. Absolutely, wholly, entirely. Resent, to consider as an injury. Consciousness, inward feeling, knowledge of what passes in one's own mind.

THE MILLER OF THE DEE.

BY CHARLES MACKAY.

There dwelt a miller hale and bold Beside the river Dee; He worked and sang from morn till night, No lark more blithe than he; And this the burden of his song Forever used to be,-- "I envy nobody; no, not I, And nobody envies me!"

"Thou'rt wrong, my friend!" said good King Hal; "Thou'rt wrong as wrong can be; For could my heart be light as thine, I'd gladly change with thee. And tell me now, what makes thee sing, With voice so loud and free, While I am sad, though I'm the king, Beside the river Dee."

The miller smiled and doffed his cap: "I earn my bread," quoth he; "I love my wife, I love my friend, I love my children three; I owe no penny I cannot pay; I thank the river Dee, That turns the mill that grinds the corn, To feed my babes and me."

"Good friend," said Hal, and sighed the while, "Farewell! and happy be; But say no more, if thou'dst be true, That no one envies thee. Thy mealy cap is worth my crown, Thy mill my kingdom's fee; Such men as thou are England's boast, Oh miller of the Dee!"

DEFINITIONS:--Hale, hearty, strong. Blithe, happy. Quoth, said. Fee, wealth, possession.

A BOY ON A FARM.

BY CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER.

Say what you will about the general usefulness of boys, it is my impression that a farm without a boy would very soon come to grief. What the boy does is the life of the farm. He is the factotum, always in demand, always expected to do the thousand indispensable things that nobody else will do. Upon him fall all the odds and ends, the most difficult things.

After everybody else is through, he has to finish up. His work is like a woman's,--perpetually waiting on others. Everybody knows how much easier it is to eat a good dinner than it is to wash the dishes afterward. Consider what a boy on a farm is required to do; things that must be done, or life would actually stop.

It is understood, in the first place, that he is to do all the errands, to go to the store, to the post office, and to carry all sorts of messages. If he had as many legs as a centiped, they would tire before night. His two short limbs seem to him entirely inadequate to the task. He would like to have as many legs as a wheel has spokes, and rotate about in the same way.

This he sometimes tries to do; and the people who have seen him "turning cart wheels" along the side of the road, have supposed that he was amusing himself and idling his time; he was only trying to invent a new mode of locomotion, so that he could economize his legs, and do his errands with greater dispatch.

He practices standing on his head, in order to accustom himself to any position. Leapfrog is one of his methods of getting over the ground quickly. He would willingly go an errand any distance if he could leapfrog it with a few other boys.

He has a natural genius for combining pleasure with business. This is the reason why, when he is sent to the spring for a pitcher of water, he is absent so long; for he stops to poke the frog that sits on the stone, or, if there is a penstock, to put his hand over the spout, and squirt the water a little while.

He is the one who spreads the grass when the men have cut it; he mows it away in the barn; he rides the horse, to cultivate the corn, up and down the hot, weary rows; he picks up the potatoes when they are dug; he drives the cows night and morning; he brings wood and water, and splits kindling; he gets up the horse, and puts out the horse; whether he is in the house or out of it, there is always something for him to do.

Just before the school in winter he shovels paths; in summer he turns the grindstone. He knows where there are lots of wintergreens and sweet flags, but, instead of going for them, he is to stay indoors and pare apples, and stone raisins, and pound something in a mortar. And yet, with his mind full of schemes of what he would like to do, and his hands full of occupations, he is an idle boy, who has nothing to busy himself with but school and chores!

He would gladly do all the work if somebody else would do the chores, he thinks; and yet I doubt if any boy ever amounted to anything in the world; or was of much use as a man, who did not enjoy the advantages of a liberal education in the way of chores. --From "Being a Boy."

DEFINITIONS:--Factotum, a person employed to do all kinds of work. Indispensable, absolutely necessary. Perpetually, continually. Centiped, an insect with a great number of feet. Economize, to save. Dispatch, diligence, haste. Penstock, a wooden tube for conducting water. Chores, the light work of the household either within or without doors.

EXERCISE.--Call you tell of anything else that a boy on a farm must do? What advantages has a country boy over a city boy? What advantages has the city boy?

MEDDLESOME MATTIE.

Oh, how one ugly trick has spoiled The sweetest and the best! Matilda, though a pleasant child, One grievous fault possessed, Which, like a cloud before the skies, Hid all her better qualities.

Sometimes, she'd lift the teapot lid To peep at what was in it; Or tilt the kettle, if you did But turn your back a minute. In vain you told her not to touch, Her trick of meddling grew so much.

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

Forthwith, she placed upon her nose The glasses large and wide; And looking round, as I suppose, The snuffbox, too, she spied. "Oh, what a pretty box is this! I'll open it," said little miss.

"I know that grandmamma would say, 'Don't meddle with it, dear;' But then she's far enough away, And no one else is near; Beside, what can there be amiss In opening such a box as this?"

So, thumb and finger went to work To move the stubborn lid; And, presently, a mighty jerk The mighty mischief did; For all at once, ah! woeful case! The snuff came puffing in her face.

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

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

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

DEFINITIONS:--Qualities, traits of character. Meddling, interfering without right. Forthwith, at once. Spied, saw. Amiss, wrong, faulty. Woeful, sad, sorrowful. TIngling, smarting. Refrain, to keep from.

EXERCISE.--Write the story of Meddlesome Mattie, using your own words and not trying to make rhymes. What lesson may be learned from this story? What is a snuffbox? This story was written almost a hundred years ago. Do ladies use snuffboxes now?

THE EAGLE.

The eagle is called the king of the birds. He is a large, fierce bird of prey, of immense strength and great courage; and he sweeps through the air with a majesty and dignity well becoming to his noble title.

The eagle leads a solitary life in the wild places of the earth. He dwells on the crags of mountains or on the lonely peaks of huge rocks, at whose base the ocean dashes its waves. He swoops down through dark forests, and uninhabited prairies, and gloomy glens, seeking his prey.

The Golden Eagle is a splendid bird. The female at full growth is three feet and a half in length, while the wings stretch from tip to tip no less than nine feet. The male is not quite so large, but very nearly so. The name "golden" is taken from the color of the plumes of the head and neck, which are of a rich golden red hue. The rest of the body is for the most part covered with rich blackish brown feathers.

The eagle is well armed for battle and plunder. The beak is powerful, and bent like a hook, with edges as sharp as a knife. The feet are furnished with four terrible toes, which have long and sharp nails, called talons. The eyes are piercing, and flash forth the proudest glances.

The eagle flies with most graceful ease. On his broad wings, moved by strong muscles, he sweeps boldly through the air, rising in circles till he is all but lost to the sight of the beholder. From this high position he can see far and wide beneath him; his keen eye singles out his prey at a long distance; and down he dives with the suddenness of a flash of lightning.

This terrible suddenness of attack commonly kills the victim on the instant. The weapon of death is not the beak, but either the wing or the claws; a flap of the wing or a clutch of the talons is usually enough for the purpose. The eagle kills and eats birds that are smaller and weaker than himself, he lives upon the best of the game, and he drags the best of the fish out of the river or the sea. He carries off the farmer's poultry, and often also young pigs or lambs; sometimes, it is said, he has carried off to his nest even a little boy or girl.

The eagle's nest, or eyrie, is high up on the ledge of some precipice, where hardly any enemy can come. Of course it is a very large nest; but it is not carefully or nicely built. It is a rough affair, like the rook's nest; a lot of sticks and twigs, and heath or grass, with a more comfortable hollow in the middle, which is padded with softer materials. Here the young are reared; and here the male bird brings home prey for the female and the eaglets; bones and flesh are scattered about everywhere. The eagle is much attached to the spot where he makes his home; he dwells in the same eyrie year after year, and shows little desire to seek his fortunes elsewhere.

DEFINITIONS:--Immense, very great. Majesty, stateliness, elevation of manner. Dignity, grace, loftiness of manner. Title, name. Solitary, living by oneself. Crags, steep, rugged rocks. Base, foot, bottom. Plumes, feathers. Talons, claws. Eyrie, the nest of a bird that builds in a lofty place. Ledge, a ridge or projection. Rook, a bird resembling a crow, but smaller. Reared, brought up. Eaglets, young eagles.

EXERCISE.--What qualities of the eagle may be admired? What traits has he that are not to be admired?

THE OLD EAGLE TREE.

BY JOHN TODD.

In a distant field stood a large tulip tree, apparently of a century's growth, and one of the most gigantic. It looked like the father of the surrounding forest. A single tree of huge dimensions, standing all alone, is a sublime object.

On the top of this tree, an old eagle, commonly called the "Fishing Eagle," had built her nest every year, for many years, and, undisturbed, had raised her young. A remarkable place to choose, as she procured her food from the ocean, and this tree stood full ten miles from the seashore. It had long been known as the "Old Eagle Tree."

On a warm, sunny day, the workmen were hoeing corn in an adjoining field. At a certain hour of the day, the old eagle was known to set off for the seaside, to gather food for her young. As she this day returned with a large fish in her claws, the workmen surrounded the tree, and by yelling and hooting, and throwing stones, so scared the poor bird that she dropped her fish, and they carried it off in triumph.