LESSON LXVI.

FU TU' RI TY, events to come.
CON SULT', counsel with.

PRE TEN' SION$, claims; assumptions.
FOR TI TUDE, patience; endurance.
MOD' EL, pattern; example.
RES IG NA TION, submissiveness.

O VER WHELM$', overcomes.

IN GRATITUDE, unthankfulness.

VAG' A BOND, vagrant; worthless

IM' PU DENCE, sauciness.
DES' TI NY, fate; final lot.
DE CEAS' ED, dead.

DE PRIV' ED, robbed.

IN CUR' RED, brought on; caused_
CON SUL TA' TION$, counselings.

CAL CU LA' TION$, reckonings.

PRE TER NAT' U RAL, (PRETER, beyond;) beyond what is natural; mirac ulous.

IN VOLV' ED, (IN, in; VOLVED, rolled;) rolled in; enveloped.

IN TER RUPT', (INTER, in, between; RUPT, to break;) break in between; stop; hinder.

1 JOB, a patriarch, celebrated for his patience, constancy, and piety. For note on DAVID, see page 138.

NOTE. The dash at the end of a remark, denotes that the speaker is interrupted by the one with whom he is conversing.

MRS. CREDULOUS AND THE FORTUNE TELLER.

Mrs. Credulous. Are you the fortune-teller, sir, that knows every thing'?

Fortune-Teller. I sometimes consult futurity, madam; but I make no pretensions to any supernatural knowledge.

Mrs. C. Ay', so you say; but every body else says you know every thing; and I have come all the way from Boston to consult you; for you must know I have met with a dread

ful loss.

F. T. We are liable to losses in this world', madam'.

Mrs. C. Yes'; and I have had my share of them, though I shall be only fifty, come Thanksgiving.

F. T. You must have learned to bear misfortunes with fortitude, by this time.

Mrs. C. I don't know how that is, though my dear

husband, rest his soul, used to say, "Molly, you are as patient as Job', though you never had any children to lose, as he had."

F. T. Job was a model of patience, madam, and few could lose their all with so much resignation.

Mrs. C. Ah, sir', that is too true'; for even the small *loss I have suffered, overwhelms me!

F. T. The loss of property, madam, comes home to the bosom of the best of us.

Mrs. C. Yes, sir; and when the thing lost can not be replaced, it is doubly distressing. When my poor, good man, on our wedding day, gave me the ring, "Keep it, Molly," said he, "till you die, for my sake." And now, that I should have lost it, after keeping it thirty years, and locking it up so carefully all the time, as I did—

F. T. We can not be too careful in this world, madam; our best friends often deceive us.

Mrs. C. True, sir, true, but who would have thought that the child I took, as it were, out of the street, and brought up as my own, could have been guilty of such ingratitude? She never would have touched what was not her own, if her vagabond lover had not put her up to it.

F. T. Ah, madam, ingratitude is the basest of all crimes! Mrs. C. Yes; but to think that the impudent creature should deny she took it, when I saw it in the possession of that wretch myself.

F. T. Impudence, madam, usually accompanies crime. But my time is precious, and the star that rules your destiny will set, and your fate be involved in darkness, unless I proceed to business immediately. The star informs me, madam, that you are a widow.

Mrs. C. La! sir, were you acquainted with my deceased husband?

F. T. No, madam; we do not receive our knowledge by. such means. Thy name is Mary, and thy dwelling-place is Boston.

Mrs. C. Some spirit must have told you this, for certain.

F. T. This is not all, madam. You were married at the age of twenty years, and were the sole heir of your deceased husband.

Mrs. C. I perceive, sir, you know every thing.

F. T. Madam, I can not help knowing what I do know; I must therefore inform you that your adopted daughter, in the dead of night

Mrs. C. No, sir; it was in the day-time.

F. T. Do not interrupt me, madam. In the dead of night, your adopted daughter planned the robbery which deprived you of your wedding-ring.

Mrs. C. No earthly being could have told you this, for I never let my right hand know that I possessed it, lest some evil should happen to it.

F. T. Hear me, madam; you have come all this distance to consult the fates, and find your ring.

Mrs. C. You have guessed my intention exactly, sir.

F. T. Guessed'! madam'. I know this is your object; and I know, moreover, that your ungrateful daughter has incurred your displeasure, by receiving the addresses of a worthless man.

Mrs. C. Every word is gospel truth.

F. T. This man has persuaded your daughter

Mrs. C. I knew he did, I told her so. But good sir, can you tell me who has the ring?

F. T. This young man has it..

Mrs. C. But he denies it.

F. T. No matter, madam, he has it.

Mrs. C. But how shall I obtain it again?

F. T. The law points out the way, madam,—it is my business to point out the rogue,-you must catch him.

Mrs. C. You are right, sir,-and if there is law to be had, I will spend every cent I own, but I will have it. I knew he was the robber, and I thank you for the information. [Going.]

F. T. But thanks, madam, will not pay for all my nightly vigils, consultations, and calculations.

Mrs. C. Oh, right, sir!. I forgot to pay you. What am I indebted to you?

F. T. Only five dollars, madam.

Mrs. C. [Handing him the money,] There it is, sir. I would have paid twenty rather than not have found the ring.

F. T. I never take but five, madam. Farewell, madam, your friend is at the door with your chaise.

[He leaves the room.]

[Enter, Friend.]

Friend. Well, Mary, what does the fortune-teller say? Mrs. C. Oh, he told me I was a widow, and lived in Boston, and had an adopted daughter,—and,

Friend. But you knew all this before, did you not? Mrs. C. Yes; but how should he know it? He told me, too, that I had lost a ring,

Friend. Did he tell you where to find it? Mrs. C. Oh yes! he says that fellow has go to law and get it, if he will not give it up. think of that?

it, and I must What do you

Friend. It is precisely what any fool could have told you. But how much did you pay for this precious information? Mrs. C. Only five dollars.

Friend. How much was the ring worth?

Mrs. C. Why, two dollars, at least.

Friend. Then you have paid ten dollars for a chaise to bring you here, five dollars for the information that you had already, and all this to gain possession of a ring not worth one quarter of the expense!

Mrs. C. Oh, the rascal! how he has cheated me! I will go to the world's end but I will be revenged.

Friend. You had better go home, and say nothing about it; for every effort to recover your money, will only expose your folly.

QUESTIONS.-1. What had Mrs. Credulous said, by which the fortuneteller knew all the circumstances relative to the loss of her ring? 2. How was she told she must get her ring? 3. What did she pay the fortuneteller? 4. How much for the chaise? 5. What was her ring worth? 6. Was she a bright dame?

LESSON LXVII.

UN FAL' TER ING, steady.
CON FID' ING LY, trustingly.
SOOTH' ING LY, tenderly; calmly.
AL LUR' ING, seductive; flattering.
AP PRO' PRI ATE, proper; peculiar.
SUB MIS' SION, resignation.
IN' VA LID, sick or infirm person.

CON TENT MENT, satisfaction.
MEA GER, Scanty.

CON' FI DENCE, faith; reliance.
AS SUAG' ED, relieved; mitigated.
FER VEN CY, heat; ardent feeling.
RA DI A' TION, luster.

FRU I" TION, realization; enjoyment.

1 ALLE GO RY is a word of Greek origin. It is made up of two parts; ALL, other; and EGORY, discourse; the literal meaning of the compound being, discourse about other things; that is, things other than those expressed by the words, literally interpreted. Allegory is, therefore, the genaral name for that class of compositions, as Fables, Apologues. Parables, and Myths, in which there is a double signification one literal and the other figurative; the literal being designed merely to give a more clear and impressive view of that which is figurative.