dash at him as if he hadn't a tooth in his head. Now he is gone, and the waters close over him, and I never saw him again.

[Write from dictation.]

We eagerly looked out for crocodiles, in the hourly expectation of finding them, and reserved our fire for them exclusively. At last I found them, and having the enterprise to myself, I levelled my gun and shot the supercilious brute.

THE COUNCIL OF HORSES.

Upon a time a neighing steed,

Who grazed among a numerous breed,
With mutiny had fired the train,

And spread dissension through the plain.
On matters that concerned the state,
The council met in grand debate.
A colt, whose eyeballs flamed with ire,
Elate with strength and youthful fire,
In haste stepped forth before the rest,
And thus the listening throng addressed:
'Goodness, how abject is our race,
Condemned to slavery and disgrace!
Shall we our servitude retain,

Because our sires have borne the chain?

Consider, friends! your strength and might;

'Tis conquest to assert your right.

How cumbrous is the gilded coach!
The pride of man is our reproach.
Were we designed for daily toil,

To drag the ploughshare through the soil,
To sweat in harness through the road,
To groan beneath the carrier's load?

How feeble are the two-legged kind!
What force is in our nerves combined!
Shall then our nobler jaws submit

To foam and champ the galling bit?
Shall haughty man my back bestride?
Shall the sharp spur provoke my side?
Forbid it, heavens ! reject the rein;
Your shame, your infamy, disdain.
Let him the lion first control,
And still the tiger's famished growl.
Let us, like them, our freedom claim,
And make him tremble at our name.'

A general nod approved the cause,
And all the circle neighed applause.
When, lo! with grave and solemn pace,
A steed advanced before the race,
With age and long experience wise;
Around he cast his thoughtful eyes,
And, to the murmurs of the train,
Thus spoke the Nestor of the plain:

'When I had health and strength like you The toils of servitude I knew ;

Now grateful man rewards my pains,
And gives me all these wide domains.
At will I crop the year's increase;
My latter life is rest and peace.
I grant, to man we lend our pains,
And aid him to correct the plains;
But doth not he divide the care,
Through all the labours of the year?
How many thousand structures rise,
To fence us from inclement skies!

For us he bears the sultry day,
And stores up all our winter's hay.
He Sows, he reaps the harvest's gain ;
We share the toil and share the grain.
Since every creature was decreed
To aid each other's mutual need,
Appease your discontented mind,
And act the part by Heaven assigned.'

The tumult ceased, the colt submitted,
And, like his ancestors, was bitted.

SISTER JANE'S LESSONS.

[Spell and write]

accompanied, attained, perceived, sacrifice, answered, occupied.

A little boy accompanied his elder sister while she busied herself with the labours of the farm, asking questions at every step, and learning the lessons of life without being aware of it.

'Why, dear Jane,' he said, 'do you scatter good grain on the ground; would it not be better to make good bread of it than to throw it to the greedy chickens?'

'In time,' replied Jane, 'the chickens will grow big, and each of them will fetch money at the market. One must think on the end to be attained without counting trouble, and learn to wait.'

The little boy then plunged his hand into Jane's bag, and helped her to scatter the grain. Perceiving a colt, which looked eagerly at him, he cried out: 'Jane, why is the colt not in the fields with the labourers, helping to draw the carts?'

The colt is young,' replied Jane, and he must lie idle till he gets the necessary strength; one must not sacrifice the future to the present.'

The little boy did not press the subject further; but his eye just then fell on Frank, who was carrying into the stackyard sheaves of wheat.

Jane, what is the use of bringing the wheat in now? Is the weather not beautiful, and could it not be left in the fields?'

6

'Rain might come,' answered Jane, and wise men never throw on the morrow the work of to-day.'

The little boy went to lend a hand.

Childish lessons these! one may say. Perhaps so, but who does not need them as much as this little boy? Whatsoever you be, merchants, artists, operatives, statesmen, reflect on the counsels which Jane gave, and tell me if you have never forgotten the end, and failed in patience; if you have not occupied yourself with the future rather than the present; and if a storm has not sometimes taken you unawares!

[Write from dictation]

A little boy accompanied his elder sister in the labours of the farm, and perceived much that he did not understand; but by putting questions and obtaining answers, he learned much that it was useful to know; and among other things, that we must neither sacrifice the present to the future, nor the future to the present.

THE FAKENHAM GHOST.

A Ballad.

1.

The lawns were dry in Euston Park-
Here truth inspires my tale-
The lonely footpath, still and dark,
Led over hill and dale.

2.

Benighted was an ancient dame,
And fearful haste she made
To gain the vale of Fakenham,
And hail its willow shade.

3.

Her footsteps knew no idle stops

But followed faster still;

And echoed to the darksome copse

That whispered on the hill.

4.

Where clamorous rooks, yet scarcely hushed,

Bespoke a peopled shade;

And many a wing the foliage brushed

And hovering circuits made.

5.

The dappled herd of grazing deer
That sought the shades by day,
Now started from her path with fear
And gave the stranger way.