THE LITTLE CARES THAT FRETTED ME

(Many beautiful poems on nature have been written, for many troubled hearts have found comfort and happiness in the great outof-doors. But no one has written a simpler or more charming tribute to nature's soothing influence on tired, worried souls than this little poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. It is well worth memorizing.)

HE little cares that fretted me,

THE

I lost them yesterday

Among the fields above the sea,

Among the winds at play;
Among the lowing of the herds,
The rustling of the trees;
Among the singing of the birds,

The humming of the bees.

The foolish fears of what might happen

I cast them all away

Among the clover-scented grass,

Among the new-mown hay;

Among the husking of the corn,

Where drowsy poppies nod,

Where ill thoughts die and good are born

Out in the fields with God.

-Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Questions: Can you name two or three other well-known nature poems, and give their authors? Are there any that you like better than this one?

THE JUST JUDGE

(This is a true story of Sir Matthew Hale, who was Lord Chief Justice of England during the reign of Charles II. To understand the story, we must remember that in England the eldest son inherits the father's title and estates.)

A

GENTLEMAN of England had two sons. The elder of them, eager for adventure and weary of the restraints of home, obtained his father's permission to go abroad.

Ten years later, a traveler, covered with rags and dust, stopped at an inn near the paternal estate. Nobody knew him, although, by his conversation, he appeared to have had. some previous acquaintance with the neighborhood. Among other questions, he asked concerning the father of the two sons. "Oh, he's dead," said the landlord,-"has been dead for years, poor old man! dead and forgotten long ago!"

"And his sons?" queried the traveler, after a pause. "I believe he had two."

"Yes, he had-Thomas and James. Tom was the heir. But he was unsteady; had a roving disposition; gave his father no end of trouble; poor old man! poor old man!" And the landlord, shaking his head sorrowfully, drained a good tankard of his own ale by way of solace to his melancholy reflections. The traveler passed a trembling hand over his own pale brow and rough beard, and asked again,

"But James, the second son, he is-alive?"

"You would think so," said the landlord, smacking his lips. "Things have happened well for him. The old man dead; his brother dead, too-"

"His brother dead?" asked the traveler with a start.

"Dead, or as good as dead. He went off on his travels ten years ago, and has not been heard of since. So James has come into the estate--and a fine estate it is; and a gay gentleman is James. What! going, sir?"

"I beg your pardon," said the traveler, rising. "I-I have business with James."

He proceeded at once to visit the younger brother, whom he found just mounting his horse at the door of the paternal mansion. James, taking him for a common beggar, repulsed him rudely, when the traveler cried out in deep agitation:

"James! James! Don't you know me? I am your longlost brother Thomas!"

"Thomas! Zounds, Tom!" cried James in utter astonishment. "Where in the name of wonder did you come from?" "The ship in which I sailed fell into the hands of pirates. I was sold as a slave in Algiers. I have but lately made my escape and begged my way home. Oh, James!" sobbed forth the wretched man, quite overcome by his emotions.

"Bless my heart! Is it possible!" exclaimed James, by this time recovering from his surprise and beginning to think that for him to regain a brother was to lose an estate. "I heard you were dead! I have the best evidence that you are dead! I mean that my brother Thomas is dead. I don't know you, sir! You must be an imposter, sir! Dick, send this beggar away!" And without giving the amazed Thomas a chance to remonstrate or prove the truth of his story, James leaped upon his horse and galloped off.

The elder brother, driven from the house to which he was himself the rightful heir, penniless, and a stranger in his own country, returned to the village, where he endeavored in vain to enlist in his behalf some old friends of his father. His changed appearance justified them in refusing to recognize him; and his brother had now grown to be a man of influence whom they feared to offend. At last, however, he found an honest attorney to credit his story and undertake his cause.

"If I win it for you," said the attorney, "you shall give me a thousand pounds. If I fail, I shall expect nothing, as you will have nothing to give. Failure is very likely, for your brother will be exceedingly liberal with your money, and it will be hard to find judge or jury or witness that he will not be

able to bribe. But I will do what I can; and in the meantime I will advance you what money you need to live on."

Fully satisfied of Thomas's honesty and truthfulness, and moved by his expressions of gratitude, the attorney resolved to go up to London and lay the case before Sir Matthew Hale, the Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench, a man noted for his uprightness and fairness as well as for his great ability.

Sir Matthew listened with patience to the attorney's story, and also to his suspicions as to the means that would be used to deprive the elder brother of his right.

"Go on with the regular process of the law," said the Lord Chief Justice; "and notify me when the trial is to take place."

The attorney did so, but heard nothing from Sir Matthew in reply. The day of trial came; and the elder brother's prospects looked dark in the extreme. That morning a coach drove up to the house of a miller in the neighboring town. A gentleman alighted and went in. After saluting the miller, he told him he had a request to make, which was that he would exchange clothes with him and would allow his coachman to remain there with the carriage until the following day.

The miller at first thought the stranger was joking; and on being convinced to the contrary, would fain have offered his best suit; but no, the stranger would have none but the dusty clothes the miller had on. The exchange was soon effected, and the stranger, transformed to a white-coated, honest-faced old miller, proceeded on foot to the village where the court was in session.

The yard of the court-house was crowded with people waiting for the celebrated case to be called. Among them a sturdy miller-who must have come from a distance, since nobody knew him-was seen elbowing his way. The elder brother was there, looking pale and anxious.

"Well, my friend," said the miller, accosting him, "how is your case likely to get on?”

"I don't know," replied Thomas; "badly, I fear, for I have

reason to suppose that both judge and jury are heavily bribed, while I have to depend solely upon the justice of my cause."

Finding a sympathetic listener, he went on to relate all the circumstances of his case in a simple and sincere manner which carried conviction with it.

"Cheer up, my friend," said the miller, grasping his hand. "I have had some experience in these cases, and perhaps I can help you a little. If you will follow my advice, it can do no harm, and it may be of use to you.'

The elder brother willingly caught at anything that gave the least promise of success.

"Well, then," said the miller, "when the names of the jury are called out, object to one of them, no matter which. The judge will perhaps ask what your reasons are; then say, 'I object to him by the right of an Englishman, without giving my reasons why.' If asked what person you would prefer in his place, you can look around carelessly and mention me. If I am chosen, I think I may be of some use to you, though I can't promise."

Something in the honest old fellow's manner inspired confidence, and the elder brother gladly agreed to follow his directions. Soon the trial began. As the names of the jury were called, Thomas rose and objected to one of them.

"And pray," said the judge, sternly, "why do you object to that gentleman as juryman?"

"I object to him, my lord, by the right of an Englishman, without giving my reasons why.'

"And whom do you wish to have in his place?"

"An honest man, my lord, if I can get one," said Thomas, looking round. "Yon miller-I don't know his name-I'd like him."

"Very well," said his lordship, "let the miller be sworn."

Accordingly, the miller was called down from the gallery, and was seated with the rest of the jury. He had not been long in the box when he observed, going about among the