6. But, thank heaven! that ghastly fit of fancy is gone, and we imagine one of those dark, scowling, gusty, almost tempestuous days "prime for the Brother Loch." No glare or glitter on the water, no reflection of fleecy clouds, but a black-blue undulating swell, at times turbulent, with now and then a breaking wave,-that was the weather in which the giants fed, showing their backs like dolphins within a fathom of the shore, and sucking in the red hackle among your very feet. DEFINITIONS. 3. De lū ́sive, deceptive. 4. Ad o les ́çents, growing ones. 5. Fěck'less, worthless. Pro found', the deep. 6. Ghastly, horrible. Un'du lã tăng, rising and falling like waves. Tûr bu lent, agitated. Haek'le, a fly for angling. NOTES.-1. Shank's naiggie, an expression used in Scotland to signify on foot. 4. Rise, the rising of a fish to the surface of the water. 65. THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. HENRY KIRKE WHITE was born at Nottingham, England, March 21, 1785. His first poems appeared as contributions to the Monthly Mirror. In 1804 he published a small volume of poems, which, though it did not become popular, yet gained him many friends, Southey among the number. He was now able to go to St. John's College, Cambridge, where he greatly distinguished himself; but the ardor with which he pursued his studies ruined his health. His poetry lacks force, but is graceful and full of sweet and pious sentiment. He died October 19, 1806. 1. WHEN, marshaled on the nightly plain, Can fix the sinner's wandering eye. 2. Hark! hark! To God the chorus breaks But one alone the Saviour speaks : It is the Star of Bethlehem. 3. Once on the raging seas I rode; The storm was loud, the night was dark; 4. Deep horror then my vitals froze; It was the Star of Bethlehem. 5. It was my guide, my light, my all; 6. Now safely moored, my perils o'er, For ever and for evermore, The Star, the Star of Bethlehem! DEFINITIONS.-1. Mär'shaled, disposed in order. Be stŭd', adorn. 4. Vi'tals, seat of life. Stěm, to resist. 5. Thrall, bondage. 6. Dī'a dem, a jeweled crown. 66. THE DISCONTENTED PENDULUM. JANE TAYLOR was born in London, September 23, 1783. She wrote a number of poems, also a story called Display, and contributed many articles to the Youth's Magazine. It was in that periodical that the following allegory, now so deservedly popular, first appeared. Her style is lively and attractive, and her writings convey good moral instruction. She died April 12, 1824. 1. AN old clock that had stood for fifty years in a farmer's kitchen without giving its owner any cause of complaint, early one summer's morning, before the family was stirring, suddenly stopped. 2. Upon this the dial-plate (if we may credit the fable) changed countenance with alarm; the hands made an ineffectual effort to continue their course; the wheels remained motionless with surprise; the weights hung speechless each member felt disposed to lay the blame on the others. At length the dial instituted a formal inquiry as to the cause of the stagnation, when hands, wheels, weights, with one voice protested their innocence. : 3. But now a faint tick was heard below, from the pendulum, who thus spoke: "I confess myself to be the sole cause of the present stoppage, and am willing, for the general satisfaction, to assign my reasons. The truth is, I am tired of ticking." Upon hearing this, the old clock became so enraged that it was on the point of striking. "Lazy wire!" exclaimed the dial-plate, holding up its hands. 4. "Very good!" replied the pendulum; "it is vastly easy for you, Mistress Dial, who have always, as everybody knows, set yourself up above me,—it is vastly easy for you, I say, to accuse other people of laziness; you, who have had nothing to do all the days of your life but to stare people in the face, and to amuse yourself with all that goes on in the kitchen. Think, I beseech you, how you would like to be shut up for life in this dark closet, and wag backwards and forwards year after year as I do." 5. "As to that," said the dial, " is there not a window in your house on purpose for you to look through ?"— "For all that," resumed the pendulum, "it is very dark here; and, although there is a window, I dare not stop, even for an instant, to look out. Besides, I am really weary of my way of life; and, if you please, I'll tell you how I took this disgust at my employment. This morning I happened to be calculating how many times I should have to tick in the course of the next twenty-four hours. Perhaps some of you above there can give me the exact sum." 6. The minute-hand, being quick at figures, instantly replied: "Eighty-six thousand four hundred times.". Exactly so," replied the pendulum. "Well, I appeal to you all if the thought of this was not enough to fatigue one. And when I began to multiply the strokes of one day by those of months and years, really it is no wonder if I felt discouraged at the prospect; so, after a great deal of reasoning and hesitation, thinks I to myself, 'I'll stop."" 7. The dial could scarcely keep its countenance during this harangue, but, resuming its gravity, thus replied: "Dear Mr. Pendulum, I am really astonished that so useful and industrious a person as you are should have been overcome by this suggestion. It is true you have done a great deal of work in your time: so have we all, and are likely to do; and, although this may fatigue us to think of, the question is whether it will fatigue us to do. Would you, now, do me the favor to give about half a dozen strokes, to illustrate my argument?" 8. The pendulum complied, and ticked six times at its usual pace. "Now," resumed the dial, " may I be allowed to inquire if that exertion was at all fatiguing or disagreeable to you?"—"Not in the least," replied the pendulum; "it is not of six strokes that I complain, nor of sixty, but of millions."-" Very good," replied the dial; "but recollect that, although you may think of a million strokes in an instant, you are required to execute but one, and that, however often you may hereafter have to swing, a moment will always be given you to swing in." 9. "That consideration staggers me, I confess," said the pendulum.—“Then I hope,” resumed the dial-plate, “that we shall all immediately return to our duty; for the maids will lie abed till noon if we stand idling thus." 10. Upon this, the weights, who had never been accused of light conduct, used all their influence in urging him to proceed; when, as with one consent, the wheels began to turn, the hands began to move, the pendulum began to wag, and, to its credit, ticked as loud as ever; and, a beam of the rising sun that streamed through a hole in the kitchen shutter shining full upon the dial-plate, it brightened up as if nothing had been the matter. 11. When the farmer came down to breakfast that morning, upon looking at the clock he declared that his watch had gained half an hour in the night. DEFINITIONS.—2. În ef féet ́ū al, unsuccessful. În sti tūt ́ed, set up; established. Fôrm ́al, according to form. Stăğ nā ́tion, state of being motionless. Pro těst'ed, declared solemnly. 7. Ha răngue', noisy speech. Sug gest'jon, intimation; thought. 67.-A RAINY SUNDAY AT AN INN. WASHINGTON IRVING was born in New York, April 3, 1783. He received only an ordinary school education. At the age of sixteen he began the study of the law, which he afterward abandoned for literary pursuits. His principal works are Knickerbocker's History of New York, The SketchBook, Crayon Miscellany, Bracebridge Hall, Tales of a Traveller, Life of Columbus, Conquest of Granada, The Alhambra, and the Life of Washington. The charm of his writings is in their quiet humor and their beauty and freshness. He died at Sunnyside, on the Hudson, November 28, 1859. The extract given is from Bracebridge Hall. 1. It was a rainy Sunday in the gloomy month of November. I had been detained in the course of a journey by a slight indisposition, from which I was recovering ; but was still feverish, and obliged to keep within-doors all day, in an inn of the small town of Derby. A wet Sunday in a country inn! Whoever has had the luck to experience one can alone judge of my situation. The rain |