nor the wolves could get at me, through an armor thicker and tougher than the seven-fold shield of Ajax.

9. Darkness closed in; and a raven began to sound his note of evil omen, from a neighboring branch. "Croak on, black angel," said I; "I have heard croaking before now, and am not to be frightened by any of your color." Suddenly a herd of wolves struck up at a distance, probably excited by the scent of the slain buffalo. "Howl on," said I; “and, being among wolves, I will howl too,- for I like to be in the fashion; but that shall be the extent of our intimacy." Accordingly, I uplifted my voice, like a pelican in the wilderness, and gave them back their noise, with interest. Then I lay down again, and moralized. This, thought I, is life. What would my poor mother say, if she were alive now? I have read books of adventures, but never read anything like this. I fell asleep without further ado.

Questions.

What is the "groundswell" referred to in the first paragraph? Why should the sun be spoken of as "taking off his night-cap"? What is a "mandarin"? "bashaw"? What would be a "suitable proximity"? What is a "magic circle"? "stone jug"? What is meant by "the land of steady habits"? Why are the wolves called "dissectors"? Where is the phrase, "like a pelican in the wilderness," found? Does this story have the appearance of being a true one? What kind of composition is this? With what tone of voice ought it to be read? with what degree of force? of speed? of pitch? of volume? Is the style of reading to be monotonous or varied? dignified or colloquial?

III. THE CHILDREN'S HOUR.

H. W. LONGFELLOW.

1. 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.

2. I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,

The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.

3. From my study, I see, in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice and laughing Allegra,
And Edith, with golden hair.

4. A whisper, and then a silence;
Yet I know by their merry eyes,
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.

5. A sudden rush from the stairway,

A sudden raid from the hall!

By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!

6. 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 everywhere.

7. They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen

In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!

8. Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am

Is not a match for you all!

9. I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.

10. And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,

Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And molder in dust away!

Questions.

What is meant by the word "lower"? In what part of the house does the poet's "study" seem to be? Meaning of "raid"? "turret"? "banditti"? Why does the poet call himself "an old mustache"? Tell the story of the "Bishop of Bingen." (See Exercise XXXI.) What "wall" have they "scaled"? Meaning of "dungeon"? "round-tower"? What kind of piece is this? Is the sentiment of it agreeable? Is it desirable to cultivate this genial, affectionate intercourse between members of a family? With what tone of voice should this be read? Let it be read naturally and feelingly.

IV.—OLIVER CROMWELL.

CHARLES DICKENS.

1. The rest of the history of the protectorate of Oliver Cromwell is a history of his parliaments. His first one not pleasing him at all, he waited until the five months were out, and then dissolved it. The next was better suited to his

views; and from that he desired to get-if he could with safety to himself-the title of king. He had had this in his mind some time; whether because he thought that the English people, being more used to the title, were more likely to obey it, or whether because he really wished to be a king himself, and to leave the succession to that title in his family, is far from clear. He was already as high, in England and in all the world, as he would ever be, and I doubt myself if he cared for the mere name.

2. However, a paper, called the "Humble Petition and Advice," was presented to him by the House of Commons, praying him to take a high title, and to appoint his successor. That he would have taken the title of king there is no doubt, but for the strong opposition of the army. This induced him to forbear, and to assent only to the other points of the petition; upon which occasion there was another grand show in Westminster Hall, when the Speaker of the House of Commons formally invested him with a purple robe, lined with ermine, and presented him with a splendidly-bound Bible, and put a golden scepter in his hand.

3. The next time the Parliament met, he called a House of Lords of sixty members, as the petition gave him power to do; but as that Parliament did not please him either, and would not proceed to the business of the country, he jumped into a coach one morning, took six guards with him, and sent them to the right-about. I wish this had been a warning to parliaments to avoid long speeches and do more work.

4. It was the month of August, one thousand six hundred and fifty-eight, when Oliver Cromwell's favorite daughter, Elizabeth Claypole (who had lately lost her youngest son), lay very ill, and his mind was greatly troubled, because he loved her dearly. Another of his daughters was married to Lord Falconberg, another to the grandson of the Earl of

Warwick, and he had made his son Richard one of the members of the Upper House.

5. He was very kind and loving to them all, being a good father and a good husband; but he loved this daughter the best of the family, and went down to Hampton Court to see her, and could hardly be induced to stir from her sick room until she died. Although his religion had been of a gloomy kind, his disposition had been always cheerful. He had been fond of music in his home, and had kept open table once a week for all officers of the army not below the rank of a captain, and had always preserved in his home a quiet, sensible dignity. He encouraged men of genius and learning, and loved to have them about him. Milton was one of his great friends.

6. He was good-humored, too, with the nobility, whose dresses and manners were very different from his; and to show them what good information he had, he would sometimes, jokingly, tell them, when they were his guests, where they had last drank the health of the "king over the water," and would recommend them to be more private (if they could) another time. But he had lived in busy times, had borne the weight of heavy state affairs, and had often gone in fear of his life.

7. He was ill of the gout and ague; and when the death of his beloved child came upon him in addition, he sank, never to raise his head again. He told his physicians, on the twenty-fourth of August, that the Lord had assured him that he was not to die in that illness, and that he would certainly get better. This was only his sick fancy; for, on the third of September, which was the anniversary of the great battle of Worcester, and the day of the year which he called his fortune day, he died, in the sixtieth year of

his age.