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mice or squirrels, and began digging the spot with a trowel. After some little search I found one of my nuts; it appeared very moist and black, with lying in the ground, but I could perceive no appearance of growing. I cracked the shell, and found that the kernel was much swollen ; and on biting it, found a bitter, disagreeable taste.

8. Just as I put it out of my mouth, Monet came up. Ah, miss, miss, tell Monet ‘no dig up my nuts ;' miss dig 'em up herself."

.”—“Yes, Monet," I replied, “it is of no use to leave them in the ground; they have been in above four months, and are not a bit the forwarder; they will never grow.”

9. Monet picked up the kernel that I had just thrown down, and having split it, showed me in the centre a little tiny germ, just ready to burst forth. He made me also observe that the substance of the nut appeared more soft and spongy than when first gathered, and that it was so much enlarged in size, as that it would very soon have broken the shell; all this, he told me, indicated the certain progress of vegetation.

10. I was now vexed that I had removed my nut, and anxious to have it replanted; but this, Monet assured me, was quite useless. The little germ was not far enough advanced to make its way without the protection of the shell. I felt vexed at my own folly, but resolved to content myself with three trees instead of four, and to wait patiently the development of the operations of nature.

11. At Midsummer, when I came home, I was delighted to perceive two fine strong plants, each with six leaves, in the places where two of my nuts were set.

Shall I own that I was then as sceptical at the haste as before I had been at the delay ? “It is impossible," I thought, " that in these few weeks a strong stalk, and six large leaves, can have sprung from a little nut, which then had scarcely any signs of life. Besides, if these two came from the nuts, why did not the third come as well ? I am sure I only dug up one of the four." 12. To satisfy myself, I again had recourse to the trowel. After a little digging, I found the decaying nut on the root of each, and was convinced that these beautiful little trees were but the advancement of a germ like that which Monet had shown me in the one I destroyed.

13. I replaced them as carefully as I could ; and feeling somewhat ashamed of my exploit, and unwilling to be again detected, I did not grope any further to find the fourth nut, but concluded that it had perished, and that I should do very well with two nut trees.

14. Next day, however, I was much concerned to find my trees looking very flabby ; whether I had injured the delicate roots, or whether it was owing to the dryness of the ground and the heat of the sun, I knew not; but I felt something like a foolish mother, who, when she sees her child sickening and pining, feels conscious that she has given it some unwholesome food, or been in some way negligent of it.

15. Confused and grieved, I called in the council of old Monet, who kindly afforded them every aid in his power, by constant watering and sheltering from the heat of the sun. One of them soon recovered, but the other still looked sickly; it advanced no further in its growth, but dwindled away,

and died.

16. My stock was now, to all appearance, reduced to one tree. I consoled myself as well as I could for the failure of the rest, and centred my attention on the one that remained. I was anxious to know how soon it might be expected to bear fruit, and sighed again when Monet replied, 6 Three

four year, may be five - six.”

17. An unexpected pleasure, however, awaited me in one instance. The following spring, as I watched the opening leaf-buds on my one tree, I perceived a strong plant thrusting up the earth, and on calling in my old friend Monet, had the satisfaction of receiving his decided opinion that it was my fourth filbert, which, after remaining so many months under ground, was now making its way with proportionate vigor.

18. It soon overtook its elder brother, and strongly im. pressed on my mind the importance of allowing time and patience to every important operation. Many years have I gathered fruit from both the trees; they still flourish, and remind me that but for my own childish impatience and despondency, I might have possessed two more, equally valuable.

19. I am ashamed and grieved when I reflect how many valuable books I might have understood more thoroughly, and how much valuable knowledge of one kind or other I might have acquired, but for the occasional indulgence of those follies against which I warn my dear

young

friends.

CHAPTER IX.

ROBERT BRUCE AND THE SPIDER.

1. Not in Prosperity's broad light

Can reason justly scan
The sterling worth which, viewed aright,

Most dignifies the man :
Favored at once by wind and tide,
A skilless pilot well may guide

The bark in safety on ;
Yet, when his harbor he has gained,
He who no conflict hath sustained

No meed has fairly won.

2. But in Adversity's dark hour,

Of peril and of fear,
When clouds above the vessel lower,

With scarce one star to cheer;
When winds are loud and waves are high,
And ocean to a timid eye

Appears the seaman's grave;

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5. The sun rose brightly, and its gleam

Fell on that hapless bed, And tinged with light each shapeless beam

Which roofed the lowly shed;
When, looking up with wistful eye,
The Bruce beheld a spider try

His filmy thread to fling
From beam to beam of that rude cot;
And well the insect's toilsome lot

Taught Scotland's future king.

6. Six times his gossamery thread

The wary spider threw;
In vain the filmy line was sped ;

For powerless or untrue
Each aim appeared, and back recoiled
The patient insect, six times foiled,

And yet unconquered still ;
And soon the Bruce with eager eye,
Saw him prepare once more to try

His courage, strength, and skill.

7. One effort more, its seventh and last!

The hero hailed the sign!
And on the wished-for beam hung fast

The slender, silky line.
Slight as it was, his spirit caught
The more than omen, for his thought

The lesson well could trace,
Which even “ he who runs may read,"
That perseverance gains its meed,

And patience wins the race.

8. Is it a tale of mere romance ?

Its moral is the same ;
A light and trivial circumstance ?

Some thought it still may claim.
Art thou a father! teach thy son
Never to deem that all is done,

While aught remains untried ; To hope, though every hope seem cros And when his bark is tempest-tost,

Still calmly to confide.

9. Hast thou been long and often foiled

By adverse winds and seas,
And vainly struggled, vainly toiled

For what some win with ease?
Yet bear up heart, and hope, and will ;
Nobly resolved to struggle still ;

With patience persevere; Knowing, when darkest seems the night, The dawn of morning's glorious light

Is swiftly drawing near.

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