Where when he came she gave

command

To drive him thence away: When he was well within her court

(She said) he would not stay. Then back again to Gonorell

The woeful king did hie,

That in her kitchen he might have
What scullion boys set by.

But there of that he was denied,
What she had promised late;
For once refusing, he should not
Come after to her gate.

Thus 'twixt his daughters for relief
He wander'd up and down;
Being glad to feed on beggar's food,
That lately wore a crown.

And calling to remembrance then
His youngest daughter's words,
That said the duty of a child
Was all that love affords;
But doubting to repair to her

Whom he had banished so,

Grew frantic mad; for in his mind

He bore the wounds of woe:

Which made him rend his milk-white locks

And tresses from his head,

And all with blood bestain his cheeks,

With age and honour spread.

To hills and woods and watery founts
He made his hourly moan,

Till hills and woods and senseless things
Did seem to sigh and groan.

Even thus possest with discontents,
He passed o'er to France,

In hopes from fair Cordelia there

To find some gentler chance!

Most virtuous dame! which when she heard

Of this her father's grief,

As duty bound she quickly sent

Him comfort and relief:

And by a train of noble peers,

In brave and gallant sort,

She gave in charge he should be brought

To Aganippus' court;

Whose royal king with noble mind

So freely gave consent

To muster up his knights at arms,

To fame and courage bent.

And so to England came with speed,

To repossess King Lear

And drive his daughters from their thrones By his Cordelia dear.

Where she, true-hearted noble queen,

Was in the battle slain;

Yet he, good king, in his old days,

Possest his crown again.

But when he heard Cordelia's death,

Who died indeed for love

Of her dear father, in whose cause
She did this battle move,
He swooning fell upon her breast,
From whence he never parted:
But on her bosom left his life,
That was so truly hearted.

OLD BALLAD.

King Lear.-The story of King Lear is entirely fictitious, and is referred to a period of British history about eight centuries before the Christian era. There are several variations in the account of the king's death. In Shakespeare's famous tragedy, Cordelia is strangled in prison; and at the sight of her dead body, the poor old king, who had been raving mad for some time, dies of a broken heart.

“Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, ye are men of stones, Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so

That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever!
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life!

And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,
Never, never, never, never, never!

you, sir.

Pray you, undo this button :-t
-thank
Do you see this? Look on her-look-her lips-
Look there, look there!"

(He dies.)

QUESTIONS:-1. Tell the story of King Lear and his three daughters. 2. Wherein did the king misjudge Cordelia? 3. What mistake did he make regarding the professions of the two elder daughters? 4. How did he find out his mistake? 5. Where did Cordelia find a home? 6. What prevented the king from going to Cordelia at once in his distress? 7. How did Cordelia act when she heard of the king's banishment? 8. How does Shakespeare make Cordelia die? 9. What was the end of Lear?

MORE than 1800 years ago, in the old Roman times, for ages and ages Mount Vesuvius had been lying quiet, like any other hill. Beautiful cities were built at its foot, filled with people who were as handsome, and as comfortable, and (I am afraid) as wicked as people ever were on earth. Fair gardens, vineyards, olive-yards, covered the mountain slopes. It was held to be one of the paradises of the world.

In the year A.D. 79, there was stationed in the Bay of Naples, a Roman admiral, called Pliny.

He was staying on shore with his sister; and, as he sat in his study, she called him out to see a strange cloud which had been hanging for some time over the top of Mount Vesuvius. It was in shape just like a pine tree; not, of course, like one of our branching Scotch firs here, but like an Italian stone-pine, with a long, straight stem, and a flat, parasol-shaped top. Sometimes it was blackish, sometimes spotted; and the good Admiral Pliny, who was always curious about natural science, ordered his cutter, and went away across the bay to see what it could possibly be.

Earthquake shocks had been very common for the last few days; but I do not suppose that Pliny had any notion that the earthquakes and the cloud had aught to do with each other. However, he soon found out that they had, and to his cost. When he got near the opposite shore, some of the sailors met him, and entreated him to turn back. Cinders and pumice-stones were falling down from the sky, and flames breaking out of the mountain above.

But Pliny would go on; he said that if people were in danger it was his duty to help them. But the hot ashes fell faster and faster; the sea ebbed out suddenly, and left them nearly dry, and Pliny turned away to the house of a friend, who was just going to escape in a boat. Pliny told him not to be afraid; ordered his bath

like a true