The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.
That moss-covered vessel I hailed as a treasure;
For often at noon, when returned from the field,
I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure,

The purest and sweetest that nature can yield.
How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing!
And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell;
Then soon with the emblem of truth overflowing,
And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well;
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,

The moss-covered bucket arose from the well.

How sweet from the green, mossy brim to receive it,
As, poised on the curb, it inclined to my lips!
Not a full-blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it,
Though filled with the nectar that Jupiter sips.
And now, far removed from that loved situation,
The tear of regret will intrusively swell,

As fancy reverts to my father's plantation,

And sighs for the bucket which hangs in the well; The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,

The moss-covered bucket which hangs in the well.

UP

BARBARA FRIETCHIE

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER

P from the meadows rich with corn,
Clear in the cool September morn,

The clustered spires of Frederick stand
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.

Round about them orchards sweep
Apple and peach tree fruited deep,

Fair as a garden of the Lord,

To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,

Forty flags with their silver stars,
Forty flags with their crimson bars,

Flapped in the morning wind; the sun
Of noon looked down and saw not one.

Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,
Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;

Bravest of all in Frederick town,

She took up the flag the men hauled down;

In her attic window the staff she set,
To show that one heart was loyal yet.

Up the street came the rebel tread,
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.

Under his slouched hat left and right
He glanced: the old flag met his sight.
"Halt!"—The dust brown ranks stood fast;
"Fire!" - Out blazed the rifle blast.

It shivered the window, pane and sash;

It rent the banner with seam and gash.

Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff
Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf;

She leaned far out on the window sill;
And shook it forth with a royal will.

66

Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,
But spare your country's flag," she said.

A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,
Over the face of the leader came;

The nobler nature within him stirred
To life at that woman's deed and word:

"Who touches a hair of yon gray head
Dies like a dog! March on!" he said.

All day long through Frederick street
Sounded the tread of marching feet;

All day long that free flag tossed
Over the heads of the rebel host.

Ever its torn folds rose and fell

On the loyal winds that loved it well;

And through the hill gaps sunset light
Shone o'er it with a warm good night.
Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er,

And the rebel rides on his raids no more.

Honor to her! And let a tear

Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier.

Over Barbara Frietchie's grave
Flag of freedom and union wave!
Peace and order and beauty draw
Round thy symbol of light and law;
And ever the stars above look down
On thy stars below in Frederick town.

SUPPOSED SPEECH OF JOHN ADAMS

DANIEL WEBSTER

Daniel Webster, one of the greatest orators that has ever lived in the western hemisphere, was born at Salisbury, N.H., in 1782. He attended Phillips Exeter Academy,

and was so diffident that he could not be induced to declaim before the school. He entered Dartmouth very poorly prepared, but led his class before the close of the first year. After graduation he taught school for a time to earn money to help his brother through college. He studied law and was admitted to practice in 1805. In 1812 he was elected to Congress and opposed the war with Great Britain. In 1816 he removed to Boston. He soon came to be regarded as the foremost lawyer in New England. His

WEBSTER

reply to Hayne is one of the most memorable speeches ever made in Congress. His Bunker Hill Orations, and the Oration on Adams and Jefferson, are among the greatest speeches ever delivered in this country. He was Secretary of State under Harrison and opposed the annexation of Texas. He died in 1852.

INK or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my

SINK

We

hand and my heart to this vote. It is true, indeed, that in the beginning we aimed not at independence. But there's a Divinity which shapes our ends. The injustice of England has driven us to arms; and, blinded to her own interest for our good, she has obstinately persisted, till independence is now within our grasp. have but to reach forth to it, and it is ours. Why, then, should we defer the Declaration? Is any man so weak as now to hope for a reconciliation with England which shall leave either safety to the country and its liberties, or safety to his life and his own honor? Are not you, sir, who sit in that chair, is not he, our venerable colleague near you, are you not both already the proscribed and predestined objects of punishment and of vengeance? Cut off from all hope of royal clemency, what are you, what can you be, while the power of England remains, but outlaws?

If we postpone independence, do we mean to carry on, or to give up, the war? Do we mean to submit to the measures of Parliament, Boston Port Bill and all? Do we mean to submit, and consent that we ourselves shall be ground to powder, and our country and its rights trodden down in the dust? I know we do not mean to submit. We never shall submit. Do we mean to violate that most solemn obligation ever entered into by men,