puzzled to decide which direction he had better take; the land looked good everywhere.

"It makes no difference," he thought; "I will go towards the spot where the sun rises." He turned towards the east and waited until it should appear above the horizon. "One had better lose no time, and it is easier to walk when it is cool," he thought.

The Bashkir riders also climbed the hillock and placed themselves behind him. As soon as the sun showed itself Pahom started on his journey, the horsemen following. He walked leisurely at first. After a short time he ordered a pole planted. As he went on he increased his speed. A verst more and another pole was planted. He glanced at the sun; the hillock was in sight and the people on it. Pahom guessed that he had traveled about five versts. He went on and made five more. He felt warm and took off his coat, then went on again and made another five versts. It was warm. He glanced once more at the sun and saw that it was time to think about lunch.

"A quarter of the them," he thought. pull off my boots." He sat down, took them off, then started on again. Now, he traveled with ease. "Five more and I shall turn to the left. This is a fine spot; it would be a pity to leave it. The farther I go, the better it is." And so he continued to walk straight ahead.

day is past, and there are four of "It is too early to turn; let me

Looking back at the hillock it was scarcely visible, and the people on it looked like ants.

now.

"I have walked enough in this direction, and must turn I am hot and thirsty." He raised his flask and drank a draft, ordered a pole to be planted, and turned sharply to the left. As he went on the grass grew higher, the sun hotter, and he himself became more and more weary. Looking at the sun he saw that it was the dinner hour. He ate some bread, but did not stop to rest. "If I should sit down, I should be likely presently to lie down and fall asleep," he thought,

"It

He stood still a while, then started on farther. At first he walked easier; the food had strengthened him, but it was very hot now, and he was very tired and sleepy. "An hour to bear, a lifetime to live," he thought. He made about ten versts in this direction and as he was about to turn to his left, noticed a rich, damp hollow. would be too bad to leave this out; flax would grow finely here," and he still kept on. He took in the hollow, had a pole planted, and then turned the second corner. The people on the hillock were scarcely visible. "I have made the sides too long," he thought, "and had better make this one shorter."

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It was almost noon by the sun and he had only made two versts on the third side. Still fifteen remained as before. Although my lot will not be square, I must take care to make a direct line and not take in any more. I

have quite enough as it is."

the hillock.

And he aimed straight for

He was exhausted. His feet were sore, his gait unsteady; he would have liked to rest, but did not dare, lest he might not be able to reach the hill by sunset. The sun does not wait; it sets as though some one were hurrying it.

"Have I miscalculated and taken in too much?" thought Pahom. "What if I am late? The hill is still far away, and I am tired. I fear my effort is in vain. I must exert myself."

He started on the run. His feet were bleeding, yet he kept on, and still the hill was far away. He threw away his coat, boots, flask and hat. "I have been greedy and lost it all," he thought; "I can not reach the place before sunset;" but still he kept on.

His shirt stuck to his body, his mouth was parched; bellows seemed to blow in his chest; his heart beat violently, and his feet scarcely supported him. He thought no more of the land-his only thought was of his life. He did not want to die, and yet he could not stop. "If I give up now, after running so far, they will call me a fool."

He heard the yells and hoots of the Bashkirs. Their shrieks made his heart beat faster. He ran with waning strength, while the setting sun approached the edge of the horizon. Only a little more remained. He saw the

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people on the hillock waving their hands and urging him on, he saw the fur hat with the money lying on it, and the Elder seated on the ground, holding his stomach. He remembered his dream. "I have plenty of land, but shall I ever live on it? I am lost," he thought. And yet he kept on.

He glanced at the sun; it looked large and red, and had almost reached the edge of the horizon. Now it was setting. He reached the hillock-the sun had set. Pahom was in despair. "All is lost," he thought. Just then it flashed upon him that though he could not see the sun from below, it was still visible from the As he reached the summit, he saw hillock. He ran up. the hat. There it was. he did so he reached the hat with his hands. "Good for you," said the Elder.

land."

Then he slipped and fell. As

"You own much

Pahom's workman ran towards him and was about to raise him when he saw blood pouring from his mouth. Pahom was dead.

The Elder, crouching on the ground and holding his stomach, was laughing immoderately. Finally he arose, lifted a shovel from the ground and tossed it to Pahom's Bury him," he said.

man.

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The Bashkirs started and rode away. Pahom's workHe dug a grave three arshines long, just man remained. long enough for Pahom, and buried him.

Abridged.

O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!

BY WALT WHITMAN

Written in 1865, at the close of the Civil War and just after the assassination of Lincoln

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is

won;

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up for you the flag is flung-for you the bugle

trills;

For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths-for you the shores a-crowding;

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!

This arm beneath your head;

It is some dream that on the deck,

You've fallen cold and dead.