baggage-man, eager to prove that he was just as chivalrous as the other. Just how the case might have been settled it is difficult to decide. The trainman called, "All aboard;" the man extended his hand and said, "Good-by; forget my rudeness;" and they parted, perhaps, forever.

But the man in the train felt ashamed of his hasty speech, and thought how true are the words, "A soft answer turneth away wrath." The old baggageman sat in his dingy office and wondered why he had not been less exacting, and said to himself quietly, "The golden rule is not on the company's books, but it is not contrary to the company's rules. Hereafter I follow the golden rule."

NOTES FOR STUDY.

IM POR TANT, necessary, valuable. | CHIV'AL ROUS, courteous, noble. PROM'I NENCE, importance, of EX TEND'ED, reached out, held high rank.

A POL ́O GIZE, to recall with regret some hasty word or act.

PAR DON, forgiveness.

out.

RUDE'NESS, a blunt, unkind, impolite act.

DIN'GY, dull, dark, smoky, dusky.

XV. AN INQUIRY.

CHARLES MACKAY.

Tell me, ye winged winds,
That round my pathway roar,
Do you not know some spot
Where mortals weep no more?

Some lone and pleasant dell,
Some valley in the west,

Where, free from toil and pain,
The weary soul may rest?

The loud wind softened to a whisper low,
And sighed for pity as it whispered "No!"

Tell me, thou mighty deep,
Whose billows round me play,
Know'st thou some favored spot,
Some island far away,
Where weary man may find

The bliss for which he sighs,—
Where sorrow never lives,

And friendship never dies?

The loud waves rolling in perpetual flow,
Stopped for a while, and sighed to answer "No!"

And thou, serenest moon,
That with such holy face
Dost look upon the earth,
Asleep in night's embrace,
Tell me, in all thy round,

Hast thou not seen some spot

Where miserable man

Might find a happier lot?

Behind a cloud the moon withdrew in woe,

And a voice sweet, but sad, responded "No!"

Tell me, my secret soul,
O, tell me, Hope and Faith!
Is there no resting-place

From sorrow, sin, and death?
Is there no happy spot

Where mortals may be blest,
Where grief may find a balm,
And weariness a rest?

Faith, Hope, and Love,-best boons to mortals

given,

Waved their bright wings, and whispered "Yes; in Heaven!"

NOTES FOR STUDY.

DELL, a small valley, dale, glen.
PER PET ́U AL, never-ceasing.
EM BRACE', to clasp in the arms.

SE REN EST, clear, calm, peaceful.
BALM, that which soothes pain.
BOONS, favors, blessings.

XVI.-PLANTING OF THE APPLE TREE.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

Come, let us plant the apple tree!
Cleave the tough greensward with the spade;
Wide let its hollow bed be made;

There gently lay the roots, and there
Sift the dark mould with kindly care,
And press it o'er them tenderly,
As round the sleeping infant's feet
We softly fold the cradle-sheet:
So plant we the apple tree.

What plant we in the apple tree?

Buds, which the breath of summer days
Shall lengthen into leafy sprays;

Boughs, where the thrush with crimson breast

Shall haunt and sing and hide her nest.

We plant upon the sunny lea

A shadow for the noontide hour,
A shelter from the summer shower,
When we plant the apple tree.

What plant we in the apple tree?
Sweets for a hundred flowery springs,
To load the May wind's restless wings,
When from the orchard-row he pours
Its fragrance through our open doors;

A world of blossoms for the bee;
Flowers for the sick girl's silent room;
For the glad infant sprigs of bloom,
We plant with the apple tree.

What plant we in the apple tree?
Fruits that shall swell in sunny June
And redden in the August noon,
And drop when gentle airs come by
That fan the blue September sky;

While children, wild with noisy glee,
Shall scent their fragrance as they pass,
And search for them the tufted grass
At the foot of the apple tree.

And when, above this apple tree,
The winter stars are quivering bright,
And winds go howling through the night,
Girls, whose young eyes o'erflow with mirth,
Shall peel its fruit by cottage hearth,

And guests in prouder homes shall see,
Heaped with the orange and the grape,
As fair as they in tint and shape,
The fruit of the apple tree.

The fruitage of this apple tree
Winds and our flag of stripe and star
Shall bear to coasts that lie afar,
Where men shall wonder at the view,
And ask in what fair groves they grew;