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THE COURAGEOUS BOY.

In England, one day, a farmer at work in his fields saw a party of huntsmen riding over his farm He had a field in which the wheat was just coming up, and he was anxious that the gentlemen should not go into that, as the trampling of the horses and dogs would spoil the crop.

He sent one of his farm hands, a bright young boy, to shut the gate of that field and to keep guard over it. He told him that he must on no account permit the gate to be opened.

Scarcely had the boy reached the field and closed the gate when the huntsmen came galloping up and ordered him to open it. This the boy declined to do.

"Master," said he, “has ordered me to permit no one to pass through this gate, and I can neither open it myself nor allow any one else to do so."

First one gentleman threatened to whip him if he did not open it; then another offered him a sovereign; but all to no effect. The brave boy was neither to be frightened nor bribed.

Then a grand and stately gentleman came forward and said: "My boy, do you not know me? I am the Duke of Wellington, one not accustomed to be disobeyed; and I command you to open that gate that I and my friends may

pass.

The boy took off his hat to the great man whom all England delighted to honor, and answered:

"I am sure the Duke of Wellington would not wish

me to disobey orders. I must keep this gate shut, nor permit any one to pass without my master's express permission."

The brave old warrior was greatly pleased at the boy's answer, and, lift ng his own hat, said:

"I honor the man or the boy who can neither be bribed nor frightened into doing wrong. With an army of such soldiers I could conquer, not only the French, but the whole world."

As the party galloped away, the boy ran off to his work, shouting at the top of his voice, "Hurrah! hurrah for the Duke of Wellington!"

Courageous (kŭr a'jus): bold, daring, not afraid. Per mit' to consent to, to allow to be done.

SLEEP, BABY, SLEEP!

Sleep, baby, sleep!

Thy father watches his sheep;

Thy mother is shaking the dreamland tree,

And down comes a little dream on thee.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

Sleep, baby, sleep!

The large stars are the sheep;

The little stars are the lambs, I

guess;

And the gentle moon is the shepherdess.
Sleep, baby, sleep!

"Lullaby" from the German.

A BOY'S SONG.

JAMES HOGG.

JAMES HOGG (1772-1835) was born in Selkirkshire, Scotland, and died at Altrive. He was known as the "Ettrick Shepherd Poet," as he lived in the district known as the forest of Ettrick, and his first occupation was that of shepherd. Next to Burns, Hogg is considered the greatest peasant-poet of Scotland.

Where the pools are bright and deep,
Where the gray trout lies fast asleep,
Up the river, and o'er the lea,
That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the blackbird sings the latest,

Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest,
Where the nestlings chirp and flee,
That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the mowers mow the cleanest,
Where the hay lies thick and greenest;
There to trace the homeward bee,
That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the nazel bank is steepest,
Where the shadow falls the deepest,
Where the clustering nuts fall free,
That's the way for Billy and me.

Why the boys should drive away
Little sweet maidens from the play,

Or love to banter and fight so well;
That's the thing I never could tell.

But this I know; I love to play,
Through the meadow, among the hay;
Up the water and o'er the lea,
That's the way for Billy and me.

A KIND WORD.

HENRY COYLE (1870–

HENRY COYLE.

), an American writer of prose and poetry and editor. This elevating and beautiful poem is from one of his books, called "The Promise of Morning."

A block of marble, white and bare,
Without a line of beauty there,
Or symmetry uncut and rude—
It loomed, ghost-like, in solitude.

A sculptor came of genius grand,
And hued it with a cunning hand;
Lo! from the block an angel came,
Which brought the sculptor name and fame.

A strip of canvas, black and gray,
Unnoticed on an easel lay;

An artist came with brush and paint,

And pictured there a pious saint.

Down in a cavern, deep and dark,
There shone a brilliant little spark;
The miners digging, found it, now
It gleams upon a monarch's brow.

A weary heart was in despair,
Weighed down with sorrow, sin and care;`
A kind word fell, as soft and light
As apple blossom, pure and white.

Within the stone, an angel lay,
The picture was but canvas gray,
The jewel sparkled far below,

And these the world would never know

But for the sculptor's cunning skill,
The artist's and the miner's will.
And one kind word has power to win
A wicked heart from pain and sin.

Ah! greater far than sculptor's art,
Or picture rare in Europe's mart,
Or diamond in the deepest mine,

Is one kind word it is divine.

Canvas (kǎn'vas): a strong cloth, linen or cotton. Märt a market. Sculptor (skulp'ter): one who carves statues and other works of art.

Aim at the highest. - Milton.

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