5. And entered at a cottage door,

Where lay a maiden sick and poor,

And hope and health then brought her;
And cheered her widowed mother's heart,
And merrily did then depart

From mother and from daughter.

6. And skipped along with merry glee,
And roamed along, and danced past me,
And whispered calm and kind,

'Be glad, be good, be brave, be true,
And then I'll ever be to you

A sweet and gentle wind.'

THE ANGRY WINDS.

1. As this soft wind went wand'ring on,
O'er hill, o'er dale, and mountain vale,
It chanced another wind to meet,
Like it all calm and kind and sweet,

But a trifle proud;

And so they crowd

And crush each other,

And make a rush, for each will push

Unseemly past his brother.

Each has just 'a proper pride,'

And therefore neither stands aside.

To make a way for other.

2. So here they strain,

With might and main,

To get the right of way;

And while to pass each vainly tries,
Little by little their passions rise,
As is the case alway.

And louder now they scream and shout,
And make a riot and a rout,

Like giants mad with revelry;

They strive and strain,

And scream again,

And angry tears in floods of rain

Shower down in streams incessantly.

3. And now they lock in fierce embrace,
And, shouting in each other's face,

They whirl around all frightfully;
They shake the mountain's lofty side,
Beat back the ocean's roaring tide,

And roar with rage and spitefully;

4. They dash the traveller to the ground,
And, whirling ever round and round,
Rush on in mad careering;

They dash the clouds in dire confusion,
Tear up the trees in wild profusion;
Torment the stream of the tiny brook,
And, with a shout that nature shook,

Dash into a town,

And bonnet and gown,

Go dancing about in a fearful rout,
And chimney tops come tumbling down,
Crashing and smashing all over the town;
And windows rattle in cottage and hall,
Like sound of battle when thousands fall,

And the doors all bang with a sound of thunder,
And people are filled with fear and wonder,
And babies crying to their mothers run:
Yet wilder and wilder the winds are spun,
And whirled around in that fierce embrace;
Together gripped tight, and face to face,
They rage and storm from that ruined place,
And dash away.

5. The ocean's spray,

Tossed on high to the darkened sky,

Proclaims that now o'er the sea they fly;
And billows rise to the angry skies,

Roaring and raging and with madness engaging
In the conflict of winds;

And its waters high dash in feathery foam,
Wrecking the mariner close to his home;

And its billows roll on in one wild endeavour
To reach the dark clouds and be mingled for ever.

6. Hark! louder and hoarser the winds shouting wild

O'er the wracking and wrecking and waters high

piled

Still wander unheeding o'er ocean's broad face,
Tugging and tearing in that close embrace,
Shouting and screaming, and still face to face.

7. And now once more they have come to the land,

And are rushing pell mell o'er a desert of sand,
Tossing it up as in whirlpools of water,

Getting each moment still hotter and hotter,

Till at last, spent out with their roaring and

raging,

But never that death-grip in the least disen

gaging,

Their noise died away to a passionate sobbing, Their rage sunk down to a thrilling and throbbing,

They've fainted and died in a far away land,

Worn out with anger and smothered in sand.

I. John. When our sailors go to foreign lands what wonderful things they must see sometimes!

2. Harry. No doubt they do, but there are many most beautiful and interesting sights to be seen in our own land. Now just open your atlas and point out some of the Capes you found marked on the map of England. Suppose we begin in the north and work round the coast to the mouth of the Thames.

3. Fohn. The first cape I looked out was Flamborough Head in Yorkshire, and the next was Spurn Head, also in Yorkshire.

4. Harry. There is a great difference between these two capes, in fact, they are as different as they well can be. Flamborough Head is high and stands out to meet the sea boldly, like a brave man