The rain and the night together Came down, and the wind came after, I crept along in the darkness, Stunned, and bruised, and blinded- There, from the blowing and raining, Little one, be not frightened! I and the wolf together, Side by side, through the long, long night, Hid from the awful weather. His wet fur pressed against me; And when the falling forest No longer crashed in warning, Each of us went from our hiding - place Darling, kiss me in payment! Hark, how the wind is roaring; When the stormy rain is pouring! - Bayard Taylor. Read Mowgli's Brothers from the "Jungle Book." -Rudyard Kipling. Tell this story in prose, beginning: "One very dark night, when it *** just as it does * * * I was lost ***,” etc. What is meant by "beast and man was brother"? Tell some way in which beasts and men are alike; are different. 6. MAKING MAPLE SUGAR. Charles Dudley Warner is one of the most interesting of our American journalists. For some years he has been one of the editors of Harper's Magazine. He has written a book on California, which he calls "Our Italy." "A Hunting of the Deer," "Being a Boy," "My Summer in a Garden," are some of his books most enjoyed by children. There is no part of farming that a boy enjoys more than the making of maple sugar; it is better than "blackberrying," and nearly as good as fishing. And one reason he likes this work is that somebody else does the most of it. It is a sort of work in which he can appear to be very active, and yet not do much. As I remember, the country boy used to be on the lookout in the spring for the sap to begin running. I think he discovered it as soon as anybody. Perhaps he knew it by a feeling of something starting in his own veins a sort of spring stir in his legs and arms, which tempted him to stand on his head, or throw a handspring, if he could find a spot of ground from which the snow had melted. The sap stirs early in the legs of a country boy, and shows itself in uneasiness in the toes, which get tired of boots, and want to come out and touch the soil just as soon as the sun has warmed it a little. The country boy goes barefoot just as naturally as the trees burst their buds, which were packed and varnished over in the fall to keep the water and the frost out. Perhaps the boy has been out digging into the maple trees with his jack-knife; at any rate, he is pretty sure to announce the discovery, as he comes running into the house in a state of great excitement, with "Sap's runnin'!" And then, indeed, the stir and excitement begin. The sap-buckets, which have been stored in the wood-house, are brought down and set out on the south side of the house, and scalded. The snow is still a foot or more deep in the woods, and the ox-sled is got out to make a road to the sugar-camp. The boy is everywhere present, superintending everything, asking questions, and filled with a desire to help the excitement. It is a great day when the cart is loaded with the buckets, and the procession starts into the woods. The sun shines brightly; the snow is soft and beginning to sink down; the snow-birds are twittering about, and the noise of shouting and of the blows of the ax echoes far and wide. In the first place the men go about and tap the trees, drive in the spouts, and hang the buckets under. The boy watches all these operations with the greatest interest. He wishes that some time when a hole is bored into a tree that the sap would spout out in a stream, as it does when a cider-barrel is tapped. But it never does; it only drops, sometimes almost in a stream, but on the whole slowly, and the boy learns that the sweet things of the world have to be patiently waited for, and do not usually come otherwise than drop by drop. Then the camp is to be cleared of snow. The shanty is re-covered with boughs. In front of it two enormous logs are rolled nearly together, and a fire is built between them. Forked sticks are set at each end, and a long pole is laid on them, and on this are hung the great iron kettles. The huge hogsheads are turned right side up, and cleaned out to receive the sap that is gathered. The great fire that is kindled is never allowed to go out, night or day, so long as the season lasts. Somebody is always cutting wood to feed it; somebody is busy most of the time gathering in the sap. Somebody is required to watch the kettles that they do not boil over, and to fill them. It is not the boy, however; he is too busy with things in general to be of any use in details. He has his own little sap-yoke and small pails, with which he gathers the sweet liquid. He has a little boiling-place of his own, with small logs and a tiny kettle. But the boy's desire is to "sugar off" all the time. He boils his kettle down as rapidly as possible; he is not particular about chips, scum, or ashes. He is apt to burn his sugar; but if he can get enough to make a little wax on the snow, or to scrape from the bottom of the kettle with his wooden paddle, he is happy. A great deal is wasted on his hands, on the outside of his face, and on his clothes, but he does not care; he is not stingy. The smoke blows in his face; he is grimy with ashes; he is altogether such a mass of dirt, stickiness, and sweetness, that his own mother would n't know him. He likes to boil eggs in the hot sap; he likes to roast potatoes in the ashes, and he would live in the camp day and night, if he were permitted. Definitions. Journalist, the editor of a public journal, as a newspaper or magazine; or one who contributes to it. Announce, tell, make known. Grimy, dirty. Which do you think the hardest word to spell in this lesson? From what two sources besides maple trees is sugar obtained? From which does most of the sugar we use come? Where is it chiefly produced? Where is maple sugar chiefly produced? Which of the three kinds is produced in California? Read selections from "Being a Boy." 7. A DOG CONGRESS. Articulation. - asked to speak; master's | children; attack | him. Once upon a time all the dog families sent one of their number to a convention, to talk over their business in the world, and become better acquainted. The Newfoundland dog, on account of his large size and his noble manner, was elected President and asked to speak first. "My family," he said, "is noted for its intelligence and its courage. We are kind hearted, and our master's children can always be trusted with us. We do not let a thief come near the house. We never pick a quarrel with another dog. When a small dog attacks us we are never harsh in return, but we allow no dog of our own size to insult us. We work as well in water as on land, and every year we save hundreds of people from drowning." The St. Bernard was the next to speak. "I come from a land of snow. My work is to save the lives of travelers who are lost in the storms. In the morning I go out from the convent where I live, and travel many miles through the snow to find those who have fallen or lost their way, and lead them to the house. they are too cold to move I warm If them with my body and lick their hands and faces till they can get up and go with me. People praise us the world over, and I am glad; but we are better pleased to do a kind deed than to be praised for it." |