ground.

But in the cones of the fir the scales and the seeds fall away together, and leave on the tree only the tapering little spike round which they were formed. Therefore, to find a perfect fir cone you must be adventurous enough to climb the tree, or else cut it down.

5. Which of these trees could we spare from the landscape? If we call the white pine the king of our woods, the hemlock should stand for the queen, and a group of balsam fir would answer for the princes. The pines and the firs stand as sentinels along the lines of the hills, guarding the valleys, the pines solitary watchmen, the first clambering up in bands, while the hemlock lingers in the woods, or sends its foreign cousins into our gardens and grounds, or the squares and parks of our cities. The Norway spruce, which is very ornamental, and is cultivated in this way, is a cousin of the balsam fir. Its cones are large and light brown, and pendent. Its leaves differ from those of the cultivated spruces, as they are not arranged so flatly on the stem, but the leaves are crowded on the twigs, and the twigs on the branches.

6. I must not forget one peculiarity of this pine family: it is, that they have no hesitation about telling their age! The oaks and the maples, the trees of the "truly leaf" sort, are not so outspoken. After they are dead, by their works you can tell their age; after cutting across their trunks, you can count the rings that year after year they have formed round the center. But the pines tell their history as they grow. They form each year a fresh whorl of leaves.

7. Thus each year's growth is marked between each whorl of branches; so, by counting the stages of branches, you can reckon the life of the tree. And its history is further told by the varying length of the trunk between the branches, or of the branches themselves. If this space is smaller, if the branches are shorter than they should be, or the needles shorter, then you know there was a year of famine, there was a want of rain, or a late frost checked the young buds.

8. To this family, too, belonged the trees of the old coal period. For all the black mines of coal were once stately trees; but ages have passed away, burying them up in earth, far under the ground, changing them from growing trees into

stone. What a change indeed! It took such a long, long time, too. Do you think that the pine-wood kindlings that we bring in and lay in the grate to light up the fire with, recognize their very great-great-grandfathers in the shining black stones of coal that they are to kindle into a flame?

9. It is very hard to leave this family. I have told you a very little about three of its principal members. There are, besides, the Arbor Vitæ, the Cedars, the Juniper, the Cypresses, and the Yew. I shall have to leave them for you to study yourselves. You must go to the sea-shore and look at the Red Cedar, (it belongs to the junipers,) and the Juniper itself, and see how the branches contort themselves against the salt breeze. They are stout fellows. I think they must learn a little of their firmness from the great rocks that they clasp with their roots. The needles of the cedar spread themselves out to look like a fan-like leaf, and the juniper puts on purplish berries. Beaten by the winds, they look as if they had lived forever, with their torn trunks and ragged limbs, but they keep ever green still.

10. The juniper-tree is dear to children, from the old German story of the step-mother and the juniper-tree. And they can smell the red cedar, in the wood of the pencils they use. Such a useful family as this is! I must leave you to recall to yourselves how the pines furnish the tall masts for our ships. Far away in the harbors of foreign cities these tall masts stand like another forest. The hemlock and larch furnish bark for tanning. The Indian cuts his canoe from the white spruce. The firs give healing balsams. Pitch, resins, balsams, these are the spices that flavor our Northern woods.

11. You see how little I have been able to tell, and how much there is to tell, how much for you to look at and find out for yourselves. You do not know these trees yet; you have only made their acquaintance, and can bow to them when you meet them in the street. If you shake hands with a pine, you can look and see whether he has two, three, or five needles in his sheath, and will know accordingly whether he is red, black, or white pine. But don't fancy you know a great deal, and "set up upon it, else you will show you have not got so far as to understand the meaning of the say

ing, "Very few know how much they must know in order to know how little they know."

X.-TEMPERANCE SONG.

JOHN PIERPONT.

1. When the bright morning star the new daylight is bringing,

And the orchards and groves are with melody ringing,
Their way to and from them the early birds winging,
And their anthems of gladness and thanksgiving singing;
Why do they so twitter and sing, do you think?
Because they've had nothing but water to drink.

2. When a shower on a hot day in summer is over,
And the fields are all smelling of white and red clover,
And the honey-bee-busy and plundering rover-
Is fumbling the blossom leaves over and over,

Why so fresh, clean and sweet are the fields, do you
think?

Because they've had nothing but water to drink.

3. Do you see that stout oak on its windy hill growing? Do you see what great hailstones that black cloud is throwing?

Do you see that steam war-ship its ocean way going, Against trade-winds and head-winds like hurricanes blowing?

Why are oaks, cloud, and war-ships so strong, do you think?

Because they've had nothing but water to drink.

4. Now if we have to work in the shop, field, or study,

And would have a strong hand and a cheek that is ruddy,
And would not have a brain that is addled and muddy,
With our eyes all bunged up, and our noses all
bloody-

How shall we make and keep ourselves so, do you
think?

Why, we must have nothing but water to drink.

QUESTIONS.-IS this piece prose or poetry? What is the difference between these? [You notice that in this piece the first four lines of each stanza end with similar sounds, and also the last two lines. These similar ending-sounds are called rhymes. Most English poetry has rhymes, but all does not. When poetry is without rhymes, it is called blank verse. There is no blank verse in this book.] What words rhyme with each other in the first stanza? [Generally only the last syllable of the line contains the rhyme, but sometimes there is an agreement in sound between the last two syllables of one line and those of another.] How many syllables rhyme in each of the first four lines? in the last two? Point out all the rhymes of the first stanza, and show of which kind each is. [The true difference between prose and poetry can not be the fact that poetry has rhymes, because, as we have said, all poetry has not rhymes. The real difference is, that in poetry the syllables of a line are spoken in regular groups, or measured off to the ear. These groups are called feet. Sometimes a foot has two syllables, and sometimes more. In this piece most of the feet have three syllables. Let the pupils compare carefully their own reading of prose with their reading of poetry. The true differ

ence can only be learned by practice, and careful listening. -But we must remember that poetry is much better adapted than prose to the expression of grand, beautiful, stirring, or pathetic thoughts. And when such thoughts are expressed in prose, some call it poetic prose.]

How did the writer of this piece intend that it should make us feel when we read it? Did he intend that it should make us sad or joyous? hopeful or despondent? Ought it then to be read slowly or rapidly? With what kind of pitch ought it to be read? With how much force? [Look back to the Directions and Explanations, page 25.]

First Stanza.

What is the "morning star"? What is meant by its "bringing the daylight"? Why is the daylight said to be new"? With what "melody" are the "orchards and groves ringing"? Whose "anthems of gladness"?

What is the meaning of groves, melody, anthems, thanksgiving, twitter?

Second Stanza.

How does the "white clover" differ from the "red"? Who is called a "busy and plundering rover"?

Why?

What other bees are there besides the "honey-bee"? How do they differ from the honey-bee?

Give the meaning of plundering, rover, fumbling.

Third Stanza.

What is a "windy hill"? Why did not the writer speak of an oak growing in a valley? What are trade-winds"? "head-winds"? Give the meaning of stout, hailstones, steam, ocean, hurricanes.

Fourth Stanza.

What is " a cheek that is ruddy"? What is “ a brain that is addled and muddy"? How do people mostly get their " eyes all bunged up and their noses all bloody"? What is it to be "bunged up"? Give the meaning of shop, field, study, addled.

XI.-HOW JOHNNY BOUGHT A SEWING-MACHINE.

HORATIO ALGER, JR.

1. Just across the street from the Methodist Church, in the principal street of Benton, is a small one-story house, consisting of three rooms only. This is occupied by Mrs. Cooper, a widow, and her only son Johnny, with whom it is our purpose to become further acquainted. When the Great Rebellion broke out, Johnny's father was one of the first to enlist. It was a great trial to him to leave behind his wife and son, but he felt it his duty to go. For more than a year he wrote cheerful letters home; but one dark day there came over the wires tidings of the disastrous battle of Fredericksburg, and in the list of killed was the name of James Cooper.