now a ball or two may pass clean through your body, and never do any harm at all.

Acres. Clean through me!-a ball or two clean through me!

Sir Luc. Ay-may they—and it is much the genteeler attitude into the bargain.

Acres. Lookee, Sir Lucius! I'd just as lief be shot in an awkward posture as a genteel one: so, by my valor! I will stand edgeways.

Sir Luc. [Looking at his watch.] Sure, they don't mean to disappoint us-Hah! no, faith; I think I see them coming!

Acres. Hey!-what!-coming!

Sir Luc. Ay. Who are those yonder getting over

the stile?

Acres. There are two of them, indeed! Well-let them come-hey, Sir Lucius-we-we-we-wewe-won't run.

Sir Luc. Run!

Acres. No-I say we won't run, by my valor!
Sir Luc. What's the matter with you?

Acres. Nothing-nothing-my dear friend -my dear Sir Lucius-but I-I-I don't feel quite so bold, somehow, as I did.

Sir Luc. O fy! consider your honor.

Acres. Ay-true-my honor.

Do, Sir Lucius, edge in a word or two every now and then about my honor.

Sir Luc. Well, here they're coming-[looking.]

Acres. Sir Lucius, if I was n't with you, I should almost think I was afraid. If my valor should leave me! Valor will come and go.

it.

Sir Luc. Then, pray, keep it fast while you have

Acres. Sir Lucius-I doubt it is going-yes—my valor is certainly going!-it is sneaking off!-I feel it oozing out, as it were, at the palms of my hands! Sir Luc. Your honor-your honor-here they are! Acres. O mercy!-now-that I was safe at Clod Hall! or could be shot before I was aware!

EXERCISES IN EMPHASIS.

Sheridan.

1. Upon my conscience, Mr. Acres, you must leave those things

to me.

2. The farther he is off, the cooler I shall take my aim.

3. The gentleman's friend and I must settle that.

4. There's no being shot at without a little risk.

5. It may go off of its own head.

6. If I hit you in the body, my bullet has a double chance.

7. It is much the genteeler attitude into the bargain.

8. No-1 say we won't run, by my valor!

9. I don't feel quite so bold, somehow, as I did.

10. Pray, keep it fast while you have it.

XXXIV. THE STRAWBERRY GIRL.

T is summer! it is summer!

IT

How beautiful it looks!

There is sunshine on the old gray hills,

And sunshine on the brooks;

A singing bird on every bough,
Soft perfume in the air,

A happy smile on each young lip,
And gladness every-where.

2. O, is it not a pleasant thing

To wander through the woods,
To look upon the painted flowers,
And watch the opening buds?
Or, seated in the deep cool shade,
At some tall ash-tree's root,

To fill my little basket

With the sweet and scented fruit?

3. They tell me that my father's poorThat is no grief to me,

When such a blue and brilliant sky

My upturned eye can see.

They tell me, too, that richer girls
Can sport with toy and gem.
It may be so-and yet, methinks,
I do not envy them.

4. When forth I go upon my way, A thousand toys are mineThe clusters of dark violets,

The tendril of the vine

My jewels are the primrose pale,
The bind-weed and the rose;
And show me any costly gem

More beautiful than those.

5. And then the fruit, the glowing fruit!
How sweet the scent it breathes!

I love to see its crimson cheek
Rest on the bright green leaves!
Summer's own gift of luxury,

In which the poor may share-
The wild-wood fruit, my eager eye
Is seeking every-where.

6. O, summer is a pleasant time,
With all its sounds and sights;
Its dewy mornings, balmy eves,
And tranquil, calm delights.
I sigh when first I see the leaves
Fall yellow on the plain,
And all the winter long I sing—
Sweet summer, come again.

Mary Howitt.

XXXV. THE DUTY OF OWNING BOOKS.

WE

E form judgments of men from little things about the house, of which the owner, perhaps, never thinks. In earlier years, when traveling in the West, where taverns were either scarce, or, in some places, unknown, and every settler's house was a house of "entertainment," it was a matter of

some importance and some experience to select wisely where you would put up.

2. We always looked for flowers. If there were no trees for shade, no patch of flowers in the yard, we were suspicious of the place. But no matter how rude the cabin, or rough the surroundings, if we saw that the window had a little trough for flowers, and that some vines twined about strings let down from the eaves, we were confident that there was some taste and carefulness in the log-cabin.

3. In a new country, no one will take the trouble to rear flowers, unless the love of them is pretty strong; and this taste blossoming out of plain and uncultivated people is itself like a clump of harebells growing out of the seams of a rock. We were seldom misled. A patch of flowers came to signify kind people, clean beds, and good bread.

4. But other signs are more significant in other states of society. Flowers about a rich man's house may signify only that he has a good gardener, or that he has refined neighbors, and does what he sees them do; but men are not accustomed to buy books unless they want them.

5. If, on visiting the dwelling of a man of slender means, I find the reason why he has cheap carpets and very plain furniture, to be that he may purchase books, he rises at once in my esteem. Books are not made for furniture, but there is nothing else that so beautifully furnishes a house. The plainest row of books that cloth or paper ever covered is more significant of refinement than the most elaborately carved side-board-both, if you can, but books at any rate!

6. To spend several days in a friend's house, and