had neglected to paint St. Peter's or the Coliseum, the cascade of Terni or the Bay of Naples, and had not a single glacier or volcano in his whole collection. Washington Irving.

1. To what place or country would you like best to travel, and why? Give your reasons in full.

2. Read Paragraph 6, and mention all the lakes, mountains, valleys, cataracts, plains, and rivers of the United States which you can think of.

3. Parse: Europe was rich in the accumulated treasures of age.

Ac-cu-mu-la-ted, stored up.
A-chieve'-ment, remarkable deed.
A-e'-ri-al, airy.

Bale'-ful, mischievous, very injurious.
Cas-cade', a waterfall.

Ca-ri-ca-ture', an exaggerated highly-coloured likeness.

Chron'-i-cle, a record of events in order of time.

De-li-ne-a'-ti-ons, sketches, pictures.
E-mo'-lu-ment, gain in money.
Gla'-ci-er, a frozen river.

Port-fo'-li-os, large cases to hold drawings.

Pro'-di-gal-ly, extravagantly.
Spon-ta-ne-ous, of one's own accord.
Vague, uncertain, indefinite.

THE hinds how blest, who ne'er beguiled To quit their hamlet's hawthorn-wild; Nor haunt the crowd, nor tempt the main, For splendid care, and guilty gain!

When morning's twilight-tinctured beam Strikes their low thatch with slanting gleam, They rove abroad in ether blue,

To dip the scythe in fragrant dew;
The sheaf to bind, the beech to fell,
That nodding shades a craggy dell.

'Midst gloomy glades, in warbles clear,
Wild Nature's sweetest notes they hear :
On green untrodden banks they view
The hyacinth's neglected hue:

In their lone haunts, and woodland rounds,
They spy the squirrel's airy bounds:
And startle from her ashen spray,
Across the glen, the screaming jay:

Each native charm their steps explore
Of solitude's sequestered store.

For them the moon with cloudless ray Mounts, to illume their homeward way: Their weary spirits to relieve,

The meadows incense breathe at eve.
No riot mars the simple fare

That o'er a glimmering hearth they share :
But when the curfew's measured roar

Duly the darkening valleys o'er
Has echoed from the distant town,
They wish no beds of cygnet-down,
No trophied canopies, to close
Their drooping eyes in quick repose.

Their little sons, who spread the bloom
Of health around the clay-built room,
Or through the primrosed coppice stray,
Or gambol in the new-mown hay;
Or quaintly braid the cowslip-twine,
Or drive afield the tardy kine;
Or hasten from the sultry hill,
To loiter at the sandy rill;

Or climb the tall pine's gloomy crest,
To rob the raven's ancient nest.

Their humble porch with honied flowers
The curling woodbine's shade embowers:
From the small garden's thymy mound
Their bees in busy swarms resound:
Nor fell Disease, before his time,
Hastes to consume life's golden prime :
But when their temples long have wore

The silver crown of tresses hoar;
As studious still calm peace to keep,
Beneath a flowery turf they sleep.

Thomas Warton.

The hinds heré mean the rustics or people who live in the country, and not in the town.

Glades are open spaces in woods.

A glen is a narrow valley.

The screaming jay is of the crow family, not unlike the magpie, but with a shorter bill and tail.

The curfew. William the Conqueror is said to have introduced the curfew-bell into England. It used to ring at sunset in winter and about eight o'clock in summer, to warn people to cover up their fires and go to bed. Probably the object of it was to prevent fires, which were common enough when houses were made of wood.

I. Give a description of a squirrel.

2. Give the sense of the last six lines in your own words.

3. Distinguish between to fall and to fell, to lay and to lie, to flee and to fly, to lade and to lead, to rive and to rove.

Francis. Why did you go off the path just now for that old woman, Henry?

Henry. First, because she was old, and next because she was a woman.

Francis. Hadn't you as much right to the path as she had?

Henry. Certainly not. I have been told that

"Age and sex have each a special title to respect," and I believe it; and another thing is, office and authority. Francis. That is why you are so very respectful to the teacher, I suppose?

Henry. Yes; and again another thing is, any personal weakness or deformity.

Francis. Then I see now, why it is you never move a muscle, when Tommy Stutters is stuttering and stammering and all the boys are laughing at him; and why it is you fly into such a passion when we set on teasing Crazy Jane.

Henry. Do you know, I think good manners is nothing else but charity to all men, showing itself in all we say and do.

Francis. That sounds all very fine and it may be all very right, but what's the good of it? I want to know what good it will do me to be so very civil and polite to everybody.

Henry. All good actions are "good," that is of advantage to us in the end, father says; and it's not only "honesty" that is "the best policy." As for good manners, I was reading of a queen of Spain the other day, who said they were "perpetual letters recommendatory," which means, that wherever you go, you carry your recommendation with you in your polite and civil bearing.

Francis.

Sounds very fine again, but for us lads I should have thought it were enough if we kept our good manners for lesson-time, and put them off when school is over.

Henry. Then you're not of the same opinion with