3. As soon as Wily arrived, the judge said to him, "I learn that you have received a large sum of money in gold, and that you will not return it to the right owner. What do you say to the charge?" "I deny it wholly," replied Wily.

4. "Well," replied Judge Brown, "let us suppose you to be right; but, in order to make me sure of it, write to your wife the letter I will dictate to you. She is said to have been a witness when the money was paid, and if what you say is true it can be easily shown. Now, sir, write these words."

5. "But, may it please your honour," said Wily, "why not let me go home and bring my wife before you? That will be the easiest way of learning what she has to say."

6.

Allow me to choose my own way,” said the judge. "Here are pen, ink, and paper. Write!"

7. Wily looked at the door, as if he would like to run; but as officers stood near, that plan was not to be thought of. He took up a pen and wrote, while the judge dictated these words, "My dear wife: Give the bearer that bag of gold belonging to Mr. Frankheart. I am about to restore it to him."

8. The judge carefully looked at the letter to see that it contained these words and nothing more. Wily rose to go, hoping he might reach his home in time to explain matters to his wife; but the judge, in a loud, stern voice, called out, "Sit down, sir, and wait for the return of my messenger."

9. Trembling at the thought of being found out, Wily sank into a chair. One of the officers took the letter from the judge and went away. In less than half an hour the officer returned with a bag, which he gave to the judge, who read the label, and then counted the money. He found that it ainounted to just one hundred pounds.

10. The wretched Wily threw himself on his knees, confessed his trickery, and begged the judge to forgive him. The judge threw open a door, and pointing to Frankheart, said to Wily, "Here is the man from whom you must seek pardon."

11. "I think, judge," said Mr. Frankheart, "that his own conscience will punish him enough." "I am not sure of that," replied the judge; "men guilty of such baseness too often succeed in hardening what little conscience they may have had. But if you will not appear against this man, he can be

set free." "I do refuse," said Frankheart, "for I hope he will reform."

12. "Then, "said the judge, "I have nothing more to say, except that you, Mr Frankheart, deserve to be blamed for trusting any man, honest or dishonest, with money, without taking a receipt." Having spoken these words, the judge dismissed them.

SUMMARY.-The judge sent an officer to bring Wily before him, and then dictated a letter in which the wife was asked to send back the bag of gold which belonged to Frankheart. When it was counted the money was found all right. The wretched Wily threw himself on his knees, confessed his trickery, and begged the judge to forgive him. Frankheart had no wish to see him punished, and thought that his own conscience would trouble him enough in the future. The judge thought otherwise, but as Frankheart would not appear against the man he was dismissed.

1. On the green banks of Shannon, when Sheelah was

nigh,

No blithe Irish lad was so happy as I,
And next to my Sheelah I truly must say,
I loved above all things my poor dog Tray.

2. When the summer's sun smiled, or the winter's storm

beat,

My faithful companion was still at my feet;
While on my sweet harp I would cheerily play,
And wherever I went was my poor dog Tray.

3. When at last I was forced from my Sheelah to part,
She said (while the sorrow was big at her heart),
"Oh! remember your Sheelah when far, far away,
And be kind, my dear Pat, to our poor dog Tray."

4. Poor dog, he was faithful and kind to be sure,
And he constantly loved me although I was poor;
When the sour-looking folk sent me heartless away,
I had always a friend in my poor dog Tray.

5. When the road was so dark and the night was so cold,

And I and my dog were grown weary and old,
How snugly we slept in my old coat of gray,
And he lick'd me for kindness-my poor dog Tray.

6. Though my wallet was scant, I remember'd his case,
Nor refused my last crust to his pitiful face,
And he died at my feet on a cold winter day,
And I played a sad lament for my poor dog Tray.

7. Where now shall I go, poor, forsaken, and blind,
Where find one to guide me so faithful and kind?
To my sweet native village so far, far away,
I can ne'er more return with my poor dog Tray.

Blithe, very happy.

Con-stant-ly, always.

For-sa-ken, without friends.

Re-mem-ber, call to mind.
Scant, not well furnished.
Wallet, a kind of bag.

QUESTIONS.

Where is the Shannon? What | Tray show their love for each things did the writer love best? other? Where and when did In what way did Pat and his dog Tray die?

1. Eric, the son of pious and loving parents, kept his twelfth birth-day in the early autumn. They had given him many handsome presents, and allowed him to ask a number of his young friends to see him.

2. The children played together in the large garden, in a corner of which Eric had a little plot of his own planted with flowers and fruit trees. A few young peach trees stood by the garden wall, bearing their first fruit. They were just beginning to ripen.

3. The tempting sight raised the longing appetite of the boys. Eric's father had forbidden him to touch those trees, and he did not wish to disobey his father's orders. But the other boys were eager to taste the fruit, and at last Eric said that they might gather the peaches.

4. Now, when the evening came, and the other boys had gone home, Eric felt that he had done wrong, and he was afraid to meet his father. At last his father came out into the garden; and when he saw how the young trees had been stripped of their fruit, he asked Eric why he had been so bad as to repay his father's kindness by stealing the young peaches. The boy grew pale, and trembled, and confessed all to his father.

5. But his father said, "After this the garden