EXERCISE XIII. THE TRAVELLER'S RETURN. — Southey. Sweet, to the morning traveller, The song Where, twinkling in the dewy light, And cheering to the traveller And when, beneath the unclouded sun The flowing water makes to him And when the evening light decays, There is sweet music to his ear, In the distant sheep-bell's sound. But oh! of all delightful sounds, The sweetest is the voice of Love, EXERCISE XIV. DETERMINED BRAVERY.-Fraser. [An example of serious but animated narrative, requiring distinct and energetic expression. Any approach to feebleness, languor, ot slackness of style, destroys the proper effect of such pieces.] - When Timour Meerza, one of the Persian princes, who visited London, a few years ago, was but seventeen years of age, he attended the late Shah on a hunting party, among the ruins of Shapore, an ancient city in the south of Persia, now a howling wilderness, overrun with jungle, and abounding in all sorts of game and wild animals, lions and tigers among the rest. It so happened that one of the former animals, having been started, took shelter in a thick covert, from whence beaters were sent to drive him; whilst the Shah and most of the princes awaited his appearance without, to shoot him as he should pass. Timour, however, was too much excited to remain inactive, -he dashed into the jungle with the beaters; and the consequence was that the lion sprang out upon him ; one claw fastening upon the flank of his horse, and another on his own thigh; tearing them both in a desperate manner. But the young man, instead of being dismayed, with equal coolness and promptitude, turned round in his saddle, and bringing his gun to bear upon the beast, fired, with such effect, that it fell to the ground; on which, dismounting with equal rapidity, he cut off its head with his sword, and laid it, dripping like himself with blood, at the feet of the Shah. Soon after this, he was made governor of Bushire and the Dushtistan, a tract upon the Persian Gulf, where his conduct was strongly marked by all the traits of his peculiar character. EXERCISE XV. ENGLISH COTTAGES, IN FORMER TIMES.- Anon. [An example of lively description, in familiar style. The voice, in the reading of this and similar passages, should be marked by the free and brisk expression of ordinary talk and cheerful feeling. To avoid dulness, is the main object to be kept in view, in the style of utterance.] The cottages of the laboring classes in England, were, for the most part, formerly built of substantial framed wood-work, with sleeping-rooms always a story above the ground floor a good large kitchen, with floor of brick, or stone, or boards but never of clay-puddle, or earth composition.' In all these kitchens, there was an enormously large fireplace, large enough for three people to sit on each side of the blazing wood-fire. Seats were always fixed on each side; and a person sitting on either side of them could see up the huge chimney to the sky. On one side of the fire-place, above the seats, was the oven, wherein the bread of the family was always baked; on the other side, a hole was frequently knocked through the wall, in which a rough window was placed, so as to see across the fields; and, if the hounds were out, it was not long before the cottage was, for a time, deserted. Over the fire hung a long iron hook, from which was suspended a huge seething-pot; whilst its humble companion, the teakettle, sung merrily on the hearth. A large oaken dresser, brown with age, usually fronted the fire; below were cupboards and drawers; on the shelves were placed pewter dishes, and sometines a range of blue earthenware, with two birds flying over queer-looking gardens and canals. In one corner, stood a brown, oaken, three-cornered cupboard, with glass windows, displaying certain little pink and blue tea-cups and saucers. This was the little museum of the cottage. In another corner, a brown oaken clock, with brass face, looking as solid as old Time himself. Beneath the window, a large oak table, with semicircular flaps, and a great number of legs, so complicated and framed about, that, when boys, we could never make it out. There was no ceiling to this room; but the joists and boards of the floor above were bare and brown. From joist to joist were nailed sundry battens, and upon these were laid all manner of things; a gun, bill-hooks, sticks of various tastes, bags containing seeds and sage; and, near the fire, a huge mass of bacon obtruded its jolly face, to keep in countenance the pig's cheeks and sausages, which looked black and surly at being placed in the draught of the smoke and sparks, that twirled, and eddied, and rolled up the chimney, to escape into the open air. Adjoining the kitchen was a scullery, wherein stood a copper, and sundry barrels and tubs for brewing and washing. Wooden stairs, inside the cottage, led to sleeping rooms above, furnished with movable bedsteads, bearing flock and feather-beds, with good, strong, but very coarse linen, and blankets and coverlets, frequently of patchwork, made of the fragments of at least a thousand gown patterns. The windows were of glass, curiously set in lead and iron frame-work, like church-windows, (opening into a thick vine,) generally set open, and fastened by an iron bar. Around the cottage was garden-ground, with sundry good trees; plum, apple, and filbert. On some part of this ground was the poor man's pride, the pig-pound, — containing one or two grunters. At the bottom of the garden, a colony of bees, with straw hives and wooden stools, was formed; and the inhabitants swarmed and buzzed in all directions, to the fearful annoyance of strangers; while the wife went about among the hives, with no more apprehension of being stung, than if she were herself the queen of the bees. Such were English cottages; and, even now, though the pig, and the bees, and the bacon, and the huge pot, and the blazing wood-fire, and the enormous chimney, and the beer, and the brewing, and, in too many instances, the bit of gardenground,' and the plum-trees, and the apple-trees, are gone, still there remains the neatly and firmly-built cottage. Nay, if there be only ground enough for a grave, rose-trees are planted, which will grow, and solace the poor cottager and bis wife. EXERCISE XVI. SUMMER'S EVE, ON AN ENGLISH FARM.-Kirke White. Down the sultry arch of day The burning wheels have urged their way; The barn is still; the master's gone; While Dick, upon the ladder tall, Now, on the settle all, but Bess, - Sees shutters fast, the mastiff out, The candles safe, the hearths all clear, Then both to bed together creep, |
