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sank, now on the right hand, now on the left. Why don't you fill up the holes with stones?" asked Master Hammerer of the neighbours who took him to show him the ground. "Eh?" said they; "we have always too much other work to do to mind that." But what did Master Hammerer? As often as he went to his potato patch he picked up stones as he went, and often threw both arms-full into the holes. The peasants laughed to think that he who had no team or waggon should mend the road for others; but without letting them turn him from his way, Master Hammerer kept on, always throwing at least a stone or two into the ruts every time he went or came, till after a year or so they were filled up.

"Look now," said he: "had every one of you who went up or down this road empty, tossed the loose stones on your way into your waggons, and then tumbled them into the holes, the road would have been made right in a quarter of a year with less trouble than I have had."

DICTATION.-Master Hammerer was not a selfish but a generous man, and that made every one like him. A little thing shows one's spirit. Putting the nail in the loose fence showed Jacob Horn's. He was, besides, useful in many ways-at horse-doctoring and horse-shoeing; and he wanted things right for others, even if he did not use them himself.

QUESTIONS.-What trade was Jacob Horn? What did he do that the justice saw? Was he good at other things? What did he do with the roads? Why did the people make him the village-smith? What did the peasants say? What did he tell them? How did he get the stones he threw into the holes?

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THE SHEPHERD BOYS. rambling

youngling

glittering wantonness Christmas fragments

THE valley rings with mirth and joy;

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Among the hills the echoes play

A never, never ending song,

To welcome in the May;

The magpie chatters with delight;
The mountain raven's youngling brood
Have left the mother and the nest,
And they go rambling east and west
In search of their own food,

Or through the glittering vapours dart
In
very wantonness of heart.

Beneath a rock, upon the grass,

Two boys are sitting in the sun;
It seems they have no work to do,
Or that their work is done.

On pipes of sycamore they play

The fragments of a Christmas hymn;
Or with that plant which in our dale
We call stag's horn, or fox's tail,
Their rushy hats they trim;
And thus, as happy as the day,

Those shepherds wear the time away.

DICTATION.-These verses are about May. It is then that the echoes in the valley sound with mirth. The magpie chatters with delight, and the mountain raven's youngling brood have left the nest, and fly through the glittering vapours in wantonness of heart.

QUESTIONS.-With what did the valley ring? What month was it? What birds are named in the verses ? What did the young ravens do? What were the two boys doing? What were they playing, and on what were they playing? With what did they trim their hats?

RIDDLE.-Without a bridle or a saddle

Across a bridge I ride a-straddle,
And those I help, by means of me,
Though almost blind are made to see.

THE FAITHFUL POODLE.

traveller

murderer

holster

bounding
suddenly following

THE town gate was just opened, when up rode a traveller on a white horse, with a coal-black poodle bounding and barking before him in its joy and fulness of life. The rider was a merchant. The roads he travelled were not always safe, so he carried a pair of pistols in his holsters, and always took his faithful dog with him, at once to protect him and for the pleasure his gambols afforded him, and he would rather have lost a good many pounds than have lost it. Yet by a sad mistake he came to be its murderer.

In the middle of a wood which ran alongside the road the dog suddenly began to bark and look up steadily at its master. He turned the horse round, but saw nothing. The dog kept on barking, and at last threw itself before the horse, barking louder, and making a more violent to-do than ever; so that its master came at last to think that the poor creature had gone mad, for he did not know what the real signs of its being mad were. In his fear, and with the greatest sorrow, he took out one of his pistols, and fired it at the dog. It fell, and its master rode sadly on.

In the next village, when he stopped to feed his horse, he noticed suddenly that he had lost his bag.

The thought at once struck him that the dog had acted so strangely to let him know that it had dropped. Without any delay he mounted again and rode back. He found the place where the poor creature had been shot, but it was no longer there; only a great stain of blood on the road showed where it had been wounded, and drops of blood marked the road back from the place. Following this sad guide, he soon found his bag, and beside it the dying dog. The faithful animal knew its master, crawled to his feet, and died.

DICTATION. The poodle is a very sagacious dog. If the merchant had known the real signs of a dog being mad he would not have made the mistake by which he came to be its murderer. Its bounding and barking and gambols were for his pleasure. I wonder such a traveller did not miss his bag. We ought never to act suddenly in such things. He must have felt deeply when following the drops of blood. If a dog be so faithful, what should we be?

QUESTIONS.-What had the traveller with him? What kind of a dog is a poodle? What did the merchant carry in his holsters ? What are holsters? When in the wood what did the dog begin to do? What did his master think? What did he do after that? What did he find, at the next village, he had lost? When he rode back what happened? What lessons should all this teach us?

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