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"The flames of the burning house opposite illuminated him as he sat."

which way they tended. And yet, when the fire was extinguished, and the goblin again began to reflect, he hesitated, and said at last, "I must divide myself between the two; I cannot quite give up the huckster because of the jam."

And this is a representation of human nature. We are like the goblin; we all go to visit the huckster "because of the jam."

HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.

THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS

KING FRANCIS was a hearty king, and loved a royal sport,

And one day as his lions fought, sat looking on the court;

The nobles filled the benches, with the ladies in their pride,

And 'mongst them sat the Count de Lorge, with one for whom he sighed :

And truly 'twas a gallant thing to see that crowning show,

Valor, and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below.

Ramp'd and roar'd the lions, with horrid laughing jaws;

They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went with their paws;

With wallowing might and stifled roar they rolled on one another,

Till all the pit with sand and mane was in a thunderous smother;

The bloody foam above the bars came whisking through the air;

Said Francis then,

66

Faith, gentlemen, we're

better here than there.”

De Lorge's love o'erheard the King, a beauteous lively dame

With smiling lips and sharp, bright eyes, which always seem'd the same:

She thought," The Count, my lover, is brave as brave can be;

He surely would do wondrous things to show his love of me;

King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the occasion is divine;

I'll drop my glove, to prove his love; great glory will be mine."

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"He bowed, and in a moment leapt among the lions wild."

She dropp'd her glove, to prove his love, then look'd at him and smiled;

He bowed, and in a moment leapt among the lions wild:

His leap was quick, return was quick, he has regain'd his place,

Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady's face.

"Well done!" cried Francis, "bravely

done!" and he rose from where he sat: "No love," quoth he, "but vanity, sets love a task like that."

LEIGH HUNT.

THE TOURNAMENT

THE Condition of the English nation was at this time sufficiently miserable. King Richard was absent, a prisoner, and in the power of the cruel Duke of Austria. Even the very place of his captivity was uncertain, and his fate very imperfectly known to the generality of his subjects, who were, in the meantime, a prey to every species of oppression.

Prince John, in league with Philip of France, Coeur-de-Lion's mortal enemy, was

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