13. To reach the shore of the lake, we must pass through the burning swamp, and not a bird could pass over it with unscorched wings. The fierce wind drove the flames at the sides and back of the house up the clearing; and our passage to the road or to the forest, on the right and left, was entirely obstructed by a sea of flames. Our only ark of safety was the house, so long as it remained untouched by the fire.

14. I turned to young Thomas, and asked him how long he thought that would be. "When the fire. clears this little ridge in front, ma'am. The Lord have mercy on us then, or we must all go."

15. I threw myself down on the floor beside my children, and pressed them to my heart, while inwardly I thanked God that they were asleep, unconscious of danger, and unable by their cries to distract our attention from adopting any plan which might offer to effect their escape.

16. The heat soon became suffocating. We were parched with thirst, and there was not a drop of water in the house, and none to be procured nearer than the lake. I turned once more to the door, hoping that a passage might have been burnt through to the water. I saw nothing but a dense cloud of fire and smoke-could hear nothing but the crackling and roaring of flames, which were gaining so fast upon us that I felt their scorching breath in my face.

17. "Ah," thought I-and it was a most bitter thought "what will my beloved husband say when he returns and finds that his poor wife and his dear girls have perished in this miserable manner? But God can save us yet."

18. The thought had scarcely found a voice in my

the flames on all sides into a tempest of burning billows. I buried my head in my apron, for I thought that all was lost, when a most terrific crash of thunder burst over our heads, and, like the breaking of a water-spout, down came the rushing torrent of rain which had been pent up for so many weeks.

19. In a few minutes the chip-yard was all afloat, and the fire effectually checked. The storm which, unnoticed by us, had been gathering all day, and which was the only one of any note we had that summer, continued to rage all night, and before morning had quite subdued the cruel enemy whose approach we had viewed with such dread.

DEFINITIONS.-1. A-bat'ing, lessening. List'less-ly, not paying attention, heedlessly. 3. Făllow, a new clearing usually covered with brush heaps. 8. Con-çen-tra'tion, bringing into a small space, the essence. 9. Căn'o-py, a covering or curtain. 10. Ef-feet', to bring to pass. 11. Sue-çeed'ed, followed. Ap-pall'ing, terrifying. 12. Lū'rid, dull red. Ig-nit'ing, setting on fire. 15. Dis-trăet', confuse, perplex. 16. Pärched, made very dry. 18. Wa'ter-spout, a column of water caught up by a whirlwind.

LXXXII. THE DYING SOLDIERS.

1. A WASTE of land, a sodden plain, A lurid sunset sky,

With clouds that fled and faded fast

In ghostly phantasy ;

A field upturned by trampling feet,
A field uppiled with slain,

With horse and rider blent in death

Inon the battle nlain

2. The dying and the dead lie low;
For them, no more shall rise

The evening moon, nor midnight stars,
Nor daylight's soft surprise:

They will not wake to tenderest call,
Nor see again each home,

Where waiting hearts shall throb and break,
When this day's tidings come.

3. Two soldiers, lying as they fell
Upon the reddened clay—

In daytime, foes; at night, in peace
Breathing their lives away!

Brave hearts had stirred each manly breast;

Fate only, made them foes;

And lying, dying, side by side,

A softened feeling rose.

4. "Our time is short," one faint voice said; "To-day we've done our best

On different sides: what matters now?
To-morrow we shall rest!

Life lies behind. I might not care

For only my own sake;
But far away are other hearts,

That this day's work will break.

5. "Among New Hampshire's snowy hills, There pray for me to-night

A woman, and a little girl

With hair like golden light;"

And at the thought, broke forth, at last,
The cry of anguish wild,

That would not longer be repressed

6. "And," said the other dying man,
"Across the Georgia plain,

There watch and wait for me loved ones
I ne'er shall see again:

A little girl, with dark, bright eyes,
Each day waits at the door;
Her father's step, her father's kiss,
Will never greet her more.

7. "To-day we sought each other's lives:
Death levels all that now;

For soon before God's mercy-seat
Together we shall bow.

Forgive each other while we may;

Life's but a weary game,

And, right or wrong, the morning sun
Will find us, dead, the same."

8. The dying lips the pardon breathe
The dying hands entwine;
The last ray fades, and over all

The stars from heaven shine;
And the little girl with golden hair,
And one with dark eyes bright,

On Hampshire's hills, and Georgia's plain,
Were fatherless that night!

DEFINITIONS.-1. Sod'den, soaked. Phăn'ta-sy, specter-like appearance. Blent, mingled together. 2. Ti'dings, news. 5. An'guish, deep distress. Re-pressed', kept back. 8. Pär'don, forgiveness. En-twine', clasp together.

EXERCISES.-What do the first two stanzas describe? What does the third? What did one soldier say to the other? Where was his home? What friends had he there? Where was the

LXXXIII. THE ATTACK ON NYMEGEN.

From "The History of the United Netherlands," by John Lothrop Motley. Mr. Motley was born in 1814, at Dorchester, Mass. He graduated at Harvard in 1831, and afterwards lived many years in Europe, writing the histories which have made him famous.

1. ON the evening of the 10th of August, 1589, there was a wedding-feast in one of the splendid mansions of the stately city. The festivities were prolonged until deep in the midsummer's night, and harp and viol were still inspiring the feet of the dancers, when on a sudden, in the midst of the holiday-groups, appeared the grim visage of Martin Schenk, the man who never smiled.

2. Clad in no wedding garment, but in armor of proof, with morion on head, and sword in hand, the great freebooter strode heavily through the ball-room, followed by a party of those terrible musketeers who never gave or asked for quarter, while the affrighted revelers fluttered away before them.

3. Taking advantage of a dark night, he had just dropped down the river from his castle, with five and twenty barges, had landed with his most trusted soldiers in the foremost vessels, had battered down the gate of St. Anthony, and surprised and slain the guard.

4. Without waiting for the rest of his boats, he had then stolen with his comrades through the silent streets, and torn away the lattice-work, and other slight defenses on the rear of the house which they had now entered, and through which they intended to possess themselves of the market-place.

5. Martin had long since selected this mansion as a proper position for his enterprise, but he had not been. hidden to the wedding and was somewhat disconcerted