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1. “O Mary, go and call the cattle home,

And call the cattle home,

And call the cattle home,

Across the sands of Dee!”
The western wind was wild and dark with foam,

And all alone went she.

2. The creeping tide came up along the sand,

And o’er and o'er the sand,

And round and round the sand,

As far as eye could see;
The blinding mist came up and hid the land,

And never home came she.
3. Oh, is it weed, or fish, or floating hair ?

A tress of golden hair,

Of drowned maiden's hair,

Above the nets at sea.
Was never salmon yet that shone so fair,

Among the stakes of Dee!
4. They rowed her in across the rolling foam,

The cruel, crawling foam,

The cruel, hungry foam,

To her grave beside the sea;
But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home

Across the sands of Dee.

Creep-ing, going slowly. | Stakes, sticks, posts.

QUESTIONS. What did Mary go to do? How to Mary? Where was she buried ? did she go? Where? Tell how What do the boatmen still the tide came in. What happened | hear ?

XIII. —MY OWN FIRESIDE. grief he-tide' fash-ion future

sweet-est guide

con-cert feel-ing home-bred a-wak'-en haunt di-vide' fire-side sim-ple ten-der-est lute di-vine' fit-ter sooth-ing wan-der-ing 1. Let others seek for empty joys

At ball or concert, rout or play,
Whilst far from fashion's idle noise,

Her gilded domes and trappings gay,
I while the winter eve away ;

'Twixt book and lute the hour divide,
And marvel how I e'er could stray

From thee, my own fireside.

2. My own fireside! these simple words

Can bid the sweetest dreams arise ;
Awaken feeling's tenderest chords,

And fill with tears of joy mine eyes.
What is there my wild heart can prize

That doth not in thy sphere abide ?
Haunt of my home-bred sympathies,

My own-my own fireside.
3. A gentle form is near me now,

A small white hand is clasp'd in mine;
I

gaze upon her placid brow,

And ask what joys can equal thine ?
A babe, whose beauty's half divine,

In sleep his mother's eyes doth hide-
Where may love find a fitter shrine

Than thou, my own fireside ?
4. Oh! may the yearnings, fond and sweet,

That bid my thoughts be all of thee,
Thus ever guide my wandering feet

To thy heart-soothing sanctuary;
Whate'er my future years may be,

Let joy or grief my fate betide,
Be still an Eden bright to me,

My own -- my own fireside. “Eden,” a place of happiness, because in the garden of Eden

Adanı and Eve were perfectly happy before they sinned. “Haunt of my home-bred sympathies,” a place to which the

kindly thoughts bred by the pleasures of home often return. Sanctuary. In England, previous to the time of Henry VIII., certain churches were called sanctuaries; and when any person who had committed a crime fled into one of these, he

was protected froin punishment. Chords, musical strings. Sphere, boundary. Mar-vel, wonderment.

Sym-pa-thies, kindred feelings. Pla-cid, quiet.

Trap-pings, ornaments. Rout, fashionable gathering. Yearn-ings, very strong wishes. Sanc-tu.ary, holy place. While, spend, pass.

QUESTIONS. What are empty joys? How | ings in the winter? Where does does the writer spend his even- he like best to be? Why?

XIV.-HARRY'S RICHES. blushed an-swered ex-claimed' scarce-ly a-ston-ished church a-piece' pleas-ant sew-ing beau-ti-ful deaf car-riage pock'-ets sur-prise

cheer-ful-ly stare chub-by re-fused' whis-pered ex-act-ly urged dim-pled re-plied' ad-di-tion se-ri-ous wear ex-cept re-sumed' a-mount-ed tempt-ing-ly

1. One day, our little Harry spent the morning with his young playmate, Johnny Crane, who lived in a fine house, and on Sundays rode to church in the grandest carriage to be seen in all the country round.

2. When Harry returned home, he said, “Mother, Johnny has money in both pockets!”

3. "Has he, dear ?"

4. “Yes, ma'am; and he says he could get ever so much more if he wanted it.”

5. “Well, now, that's very pleasant for him," I returned, cheerfully, as a reply was plainly expected. “Very pleasant; don't you think so?

6. “Yes, ma'am ; only
7. “Only what, Harry?"

8. “Why, he has a big pop-gun, and a watch, and a hobby-horse, and lots of things.” And Harry looked up at my face with a very sad stare.

. 9. " Well, my boy, what of that?”

10. "Nothing, mother," and the tell-tale tears sprang to his eyes, “only I think we are very poor, are we not?"

11. “No, indeed, Harry, we are very far from being poor. We are not so rich as Mr. Crane's family, if that is what you mean.”

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12. “O mother!” said the little fellow, "I do think we are very poor; anyhow, I am! I have scarcely anything—I mean anything that's worth money-except things to eat and wear, and they would be mine at any rate.” 13. Be

any rate?” I asked, at the same time laying my sewing upon the table, so that I might talk with him on that point; "do you not know, my son--'

14. Just then Uncle Ben looked up from the paper he had been reading : “Harry,” said he, “I want to find out something about eyes; so, if you will let me have yours, I will give you a shilling apiece for them.”

15. “For my eyes!” cried Harry, very much astonished. Yes,” resumed Uncle Ben, quietly, “ for your eyes. You shall have a beautiful glass pair for nothing, to wear in their place. Come, a shilling apiece, cash down! What do you say? I will take them out as quick as a wink.”

16. “Give you my eyes, uncle!” cried Harry, looking wild at the very thought, “I think not.” And the startled little fellow shook his head with

Well, five, ten, twenty pounds, then.” Harry shook his head at every offer.

17. “No, sir! I wouldn't let you have them for a hundred pounds! What could I do without my eyes? I couldn't see mother, nor the baby, nor the flowers, nor the horses, nor anything," added Harry, growing warmer and warmer. "I will give you a hundred pounds,” urged Uncle Ben, taking a roll of bank-notes out of his pocket. Harry,

scorn.

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