whispered a word to two of his men-servants, who immediately went out, and soon returned, lugging in a large pair of scales. They were such a pair as wholesale merchants use for weighing bulky commodities; and quite a bulky commodity was now to be weighed in them.

13. "Daughter Betsey," said the mint-master, "get into one side of these scales." Miss Betsey, or Mrs. Sewell, as we must now call her, did as she was bid, like a dutiful child, without any question of the why and wherefore. But what her father could mean, unless to make her husband pay for her by the pound, (in which case she would have been a dear bargain,) she had not the least idea.

66

14. "And now," said honest John Hull to the servants, bring that box hither." The box, to which the mintmaster pointed, was a huge, square, iron-bound, oaken chest. The servants tugged with might and main; but could not lift this enormous receptacle, and were finally obliged to drag it across the floor.

15. Captain Hull then took a key from his girdle, unlocked the chest, and lifted its ponderous lid. Behold! it was full to the brim of bright pine-tree shillings, fresh from the mint; and Samuel Sewell began to think that his father-in-law had got possession of all the money in the Massachusetts' treasury. But it was only the mint-master's honest share of the coinage.

16. Then the servants, at Captain Hull's command, heaped double handfuls of shillings into one side of the scales, while Betsey remained in the other. Jingle, jingle, went the shillings, as handful after handful was thrown in, till, plump and ponderous as she was, they fairly weighed the young lady from the floor.

17. "There, son Samuel," said the honest mint-master, resuming his seat in Grandfather's chair, "take these shil

lings for my daughter's portion. Use her kindly, and thank Heaven for her. It is not every wife that's worth her weight in silver!"

QUESTIONS.-1. What was Captain John Hull's business? 2. What portion of the money coined, was he to receive? 3. How did he get silver to 4. Describe the shillings he coined. 5. How did he become wealthy? 6. Describe his dress on his daughter's wedding-day. say to his son-in-law, after weighing her with shillings?

coin?

7. What did he

This lesson is taken from "The Song of Hiawatha," a poem, founded upon traditions current among some tribes of North American Indians, respecting an imaginary being of more than mortal powers and gifts, named Hiawatha. The scene of the poem is laid among the Ojibways, or Chippewas, a tribe of Indians, occupants, from the period of our earliest history, of the basin of Lake Superior.

1. THEN the little Hiawatha

Learned of every bird its language,

Learned their names and all their secrets,

How they built their nests in summer,

Where they hid themselves in winter,
Talked with them where'er he met them,

Called them "Hiawatha's chickens."

2. Of all beasts he learned the language, Learned their names and all their secrets, How the beavers built their lodges, Where the squirrels hid their acorns, How the reindeer ran so swiftly,

Why the rabbit was so timid,

Talked with them whene'er he met them,
Called them "Hiawatha's brothers."

3. Then I a'goo, the great boaster,
He, the marvelous story-teller,
He, the traveler and the talker,
Made a bow for Hiawatha;

From a branch of ash he made it,

From an oak-bough made the arrows,

Tipped with flint, and winged with feathers,

And the cord he made of deer-skin.

4. Then he said to Hiawatha,

"Go, my son, into the forest,
Where the red deer herd together,
Kill for us a famous roebuck,
Kill for us a deer with antlers."
Forth into the forest straightway
All alone walked Hiawatha

Proudly with his bow and arrows.

5. And the birds sang round him, o'er him,
"Do not shoot us, Hiawatha.”
Sang the robin, sang the bluebird,
"Do not shoot us, Hiawatha."
Up the oak-tree, close beside him,
Sprang the squirrel, lightly leaping

In and out among the branches;

Coughed and chattered from the oak-tree, Laughed, and said between his laughing, "Do not shoot me, Hiawatha."

6. And the rabbit from his pathway
Leaped aside, and, at a distance,
Sat erect upon his haunches,
Half in fear, and half in frolic,
Saying to the little hunter,
"Do not shoot me, Hiawatha."

7. But he heeded not nor heard them,
For his thoughts were with the red deer;
On their tracks his eyes were fastened,
Leading downward to the river,
To the ford across the river,

And as one in slumber walked he.

8. Hidden in the alder bushes,

There he waited till the deer came,
Till he saw two antlers lifted,
Saw two eyes look from the thicket,.
Saw two nostrils point to windward,
And the deer came down the pathway,
Flecked with leafy light and shadow.
And his heart within him fluttered,
Trembled like the leaves above him,
Like the birch leaf palpitated,

As the deer came down the pathway.

9. Then, upon one knee uprising, Hiawatha aimed an arrow;

Scarce a twig moved with his motion,
Scarce a leaf was stirred or rustled,
But the wary roebuck started,
Stamped with all his hoofs together,
Listened with one foot uplifted,
Leaped as if to meet the arrow;
Ah, the singing, fatal arrow,

Like a wasp it buzzed and stung him.

10. Dead he lay there in the forest,
By the ford across the river;
Beat his timid heart no longer;
But the heart of Hiawatha
Throbbed, and shouted, and exulted,
As he bore the red deer homeward.

LESSON XXXIX.

TRAIL, track; footprints.

IN' DI CA TED, pointed out; shown.
MURK' Y, dark; gloomy.
FLAM' BEAU, (flam' bo,) lighted torch.
RE FLECT ING, throwing back.
LU' RID LY, glcomily; dismally.
SUS PECT ING, mistrusting.
AS SAIL' ANTS, assaulters.
ECH' 0, (ek o,) sound reverberated.
RE LAPS' ED, fell back; returned.

EN VEL' OP ED, inwrapped.
SUF FO CA TED, smothered.
BRAND' ISH ING, flourishing; waving.
RIG' ID, stiff. [without tents.
BIVOUAC, (biv' wak,) pass the night
PEER ED, came in sight; appeared.
DE CLIV' I TY, gradual descent.
PRO LONG ED, lengthened; con-
tinued.

COM' RADE, Companion; associate.

A DESPERATE ENCOUNTER WITH A PANTHER. Boy's BOOK OF ADVENTURES.

1. I HAD left the hunting party more than an hour, when I came upon the track of my old friend Konwell, who was,