"I canno follow thee, Ben Achmet," said he, “with these burdens. "Cast down one of the stones," said the Dervise, “and hasten after me." Akaba dropped one of the stones, but still found himself too heavily encumbered to proceed. "I tell thee it is impossible," cried the robber chieftain. "Thou thyself couldst not proceed a step with such a load." "Let go another stone," said Ben Achmet. Akaba readily dropped another stone, and still with difficulty clambered up the cliff until he could come no farther. Ben Achmet directed him to drop the last one, and no sooner had he done this than he mounted with ease, and soon stood at the summit of the cliff. 66 'Son," said Ben Achmet, "thou hast three burdens which hinder thee in thy way to a better world. Disband thy troop of lawless plunderers, set thy prisoners at liberty, and restore thy ill-gotten wealth to its owners. It is easier for Akaba to ascend the cliff with the stones he has dropped, than for him to journey onward to a better world with power, pleasure, and riches in his possession." Ä kä'ba. strictness. Adapted from an Old Story. Ä rā'bi an. Ben Äch'met (äk). Austerity (as teří tỹ): Der vise a Turkish name for a man who leads an austere life. Hy poc' ri sy: falseness, pretending to be what one is not. Mosque (mosk) a Mohammedan church. Pěs'ti lence (lns): a disease called the plague. Stěr'ile: not fertile. TURNING THE GRIND-STONE. When I was a little boy, I remember that one cold morning in winter I was accosted by a smiling man with an axe on his shoulder. "My pretty boy," said he, "has your father a grindstone?" "Yes, sir," said I. "You are a fine little fellow," said he; "will you let me grind my axe on it?" His words of flattery made me happy, and I was glad to do anything he wanted. I told him that the grindstone was in the shop. Patting me on the head, he said: "My man, will you get me a little hot water?" How could I refuse? I ran and soon. brought it. "How old are you? and what is your name?" he next asked me. Without waiting for me to tell him, he then said, "You are a fine little man, the finest boy that I have ever seen. Will you just turn the grindstone a few minutes for me?" All these kind words made me so very happy that I went to work with a will, and bitterly did I rue the day. It was a new axe, and I toiled and tugged till I was almost tired out. The school bell rang and I could not get away. Soon my hands were blistered, and the axe was not half ground. However, by and by the axe was sharpened. Then the man told me to be off to school. "You are a truant," he said; "the teacher will be after you." These words made me sad. It was hard to turn the grindstone, but to be called a truant was too much. His words sank deep in my mind. I have thought of them many times. I now never hear a man flattering any one, but that I think of turning the grindstone. I know that man "has an axe to grind." Look out for flattery. There are many men who will want you to turn the grind stone. - Adapted from the Writings of Benjamin Franklin. THE RIVER. MRS. SOUTHEY. CAROLINE ANN BOWLES SOUTHEY (1786-1854), an English author, was born at Lymington, Hauts, England. River! River! little River! Bright you sparkle on your way; River! River! swelling River! On you rush o'er rough and smooth River! River! brimming River! Broad and deep and still as Time, I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, With many a curve my banks I fret I chatter, chatter, as I flow, I wind about, and in and out, I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, |