an easy thing to provide for both; but the good God provided for one of them by taking her home to himself. I should be glad to keep the other; but I suppose they are not to remain separated-and my little sick girl will go to her sister in heaven."

11. But the sick girl remained where she was. She lay quiet and patient all day long, while her mother was at work. It was spring, and early in the morning the sun shone pleasantly through the little window, and threw its rays across the floor. The sick girl fixed her eyes on the window.

"What may that green thing be that looks in at the window?" she asked. "It is moving in the

wind."

12. The mother stepped to the window, and halfopened it. "Oh," said she, "a little pea has taken root here, and is putting out its green leaves. How can it have got into the crack? That is a little garden with which you can amuse yourself." And the child's bed was moved nearer the window, so that she could always see the growing pea-vine.

13. "Mother, I think I shall get well," said the sick child in the evening. "The sun shone in upon me to-day warm and pleasant. The little pea is prospering famously, and I shall grow better, and get up, and go out into the warm sunshine."

14. "God grant it!" said the mother; but she did not believe it would be so. She took care, however, to prop the green plant with a stick, so that it would not be broken by the wind. She tied a string to the window-sill, and to the upper part of the frame, that the vine might have something about which it could twine, and one could see that it grew every day.

15. "Really, here is a flower coming!" said the

mother one day; and now she began to cherish the hope that her daughter would recover. The child had lately spoken much more cheerfully than before, and in the last few days had risen up in the bed of her own accord, and sat upright. A week afterward she sat up for a whole hour. She sat there, quite happy, in the warm sunshine. The window was open, and outside stood a pink pea-blossom fully blown.

16. The sick girl bent down, and gently kissed the delicate leaves. "The Heavenly Father planted that pea, and caused it to grow, to be a joy to you, and to me also, my blessed child!" said the glad mother; and she looked upon the flower as if it had been a good angel

17. But what about the other peas?

Why, the one that flew out into the wide world and said, "Catch me if you can!" fell into the roof, and was picked up by a pigeon.

gutter on the

The two lazy

ones were eaten by the pigeons also; and thus they were of some use. The second, that wanted to go up into the sun, fell into the sink, and lay there in the dirty water for weeks, and swelled prodigiously.

18. "How beautifully fat I am growing!" said this pea. "I shall burst out at last; and I don't think any pea can do more than that. I'm the most remarkable of all the peas that were in the shell." And the sink said he was right.

19. But the young girl at the garret window stood there with gleaming eyes, with the roseate hue of health on her cheeks, and folded her thin hands over the pea-blossom and thanked heaven for it.

"I," said the sink, "stand up for my own pea."

Hans Christian Andersen.

XIV. JAFFAR.

AFFAR, the Barmecide, the good vizier,

JAFFAR,

The poor man's hope, the friend without a peer,
Jaffar was dead, slain by a doom unjust:
And guilty Haroun, sullen with mistrust

Of what the good and e'en the bad might say,
Ordained that no man living from that day
Should dare to speak his name on pain of death.

2. All Araby and Persia held their breath;

All but the brave Mondeer. He, proud to show
How far for love a grateful soul could go,
And facing death for very scorn and grief-
For his great heart wanted a great relief—
Stood forth in Bagdad daily, in the square
Where once had stood a happy house, and there
Harangued the tremblers at the scimiter

On all they owed to the divine Jaffar.

3. "Bring me this man," the caliph cried. The man Was brought, was gazed upon. The mutes began To bind his arms. 'Welcome, brave cords!" cried he,

"From bonds far worse Jaffar delivered me;

From wants, from shames, from loveless household fears;
Made a man's eyes friends with delicious tears;

Restored me, loved me, put me on a par
With his great self. How can I pay Jaffar?"

4. Haroun, who felt that on a soul like this

The mightiest vengeance could but fall amiss,
Now deigned to smile, as one great lord of fate
Might smile upon another half as great.
He said, "Let worth grow frenzied if it will;
The caliph's judgment shall be master still.
Go, and since gifts so move thee, take this gem,
The richest in the Tartar's diadem,

And hold the giver as thou deemest fit."

5. "Gifts!" cried the friend. He took, and holding it High toward the heavens, as though to meet his star, Exclaimed, "This, too, I owe to thee, Jaffar!"

Leigh Hunt.

EXERCISES IN EMPHASIS.

1. Jaffar was dead, slain by a doom unjust. 2. His great heart wanted a great relief.

3. The man was brought, was gazed upon.

4. From bonds far worse Jaffar delivered me.

5. Take this gem, and hold the giver as thou deemest fit. 6. This, too, I owe to thee, Jaffar.

XV.-WOOD-PATHS.

TH

HERE is no person who is not sensitive to the beauty of a natural wood. All men feel the comfort of its shade and protection, the freshness of its perfumed gales, the quiet of its seclusion, and its many pleasant accompaniments of birds, fruits, and flowers. We do not learn by tuition to appreciate these objects; they are adapted not only to our native wants, but they are the real cause of many of the poetic thoughts and images that abound in all literature.

2. We feel, while rambling under these lofty trees, and over this carpet of leaves and mosses, that nothing which art has accomplished will compare with the primitive works of nature. There is no architecture so sublime as that of a forest; there are no gardens like the little paradises to be found here, wherever accident has left a dell or dingle open to the sun.

3. Yet how much greater are the charms of a natural wood if it be intersected by wood-paths! When a farmer makes a passage for his wagon through a forest, he operates without artistic design, and his work harmonizes with nature. He

thinks only of facilitating progress through his territory; for though he may be alive to all pleasant rural sights and sounds, he can not pause from his labors to do any thing for mere embellishment. He is governed only by his ideas of utility and convenience.

4. Yet the works of decorative art are tame and prosaic by the side of this rude pathway, which has expelled no wild plant from its natural abode, nor a single forest warbler from its retreats. We experience within it a true sensation of nature, with a pleasant reminder of simple rural life. It is hallowed by its humble purpose of utility, by its freedom from artifice, by its perfect submission to the care of nature and chance, by its beauty without adornment.

5. The wood-path becomes henceforth an avenue to all the delights of the season. It introduces us to the productions of the forest in their most interesting condition. The trees that spread their branches overhead shelter it from cold and heat, and permit thousands of beautiful shrubs to grow there that would be fatally crowded in the dense parts of the wood.

6. Multitudes of flowers appear continually in its borders, one host following another in glowing succession, and looking upon us in our journey as with the eyes of so many little sentinels of light and beauty placed here to make the scene delightful to the sense and the imagination. Like birds that multiply around a human dwelling in the wilderness, flowers always become numerous in these woodland paths, and consecrate them to nature.

Wilson Flagg.