Each of the Four Numbers of

"100 Choice Selections" contained in this volume is paged separately, and the Index is made to correspond therewith. See EXPLANATION on first page of Contents.

The entire book contains nearly

1000 pages.

100

CHOICE SELECTIONS

No. 32.

FLAG OF THE RAINBOW.

This recitation may be made very effective if the National flag be placed where It can be readily pointed to. The "Star Spangled Banner" might be played softly during the rendering of the poem.

Flag of the rainbow, and banner of stars,
Emblem of light and shield of the lowly,
Never to droop while our soldiers and tars
Rally to guard it from outrage unholy.
Never may shame or misfortune attend it,
Enmity sully, or treachery rend it,
While but a man is alive to defend it,

Flag of the rainbow, and banner of stars.
Flag of a land where the people are free,
Ever the breezes salute and caress it;
Planted on earth, or afloat in the sea,

Gallant men guard it, and fair women bless it.

Fling out its folds o'er a country united,

Warmed by the fires that our forefathers lighted,
Refuge where down-trodden man is invited:
Flag of the rainbow, and banner of stars.

Flag that our sires gave in trust to their sons,
Symbol and sign of a liberty glorious,
While the grass grows and the clear water runs,
Ever invincible, ever victorious.

Long may it waken our pride and devotion,
Rippling its colors in musical motion,
First on the land, and supreme on the ocean:
Flag of the rainbow, and banner of stars.

KISSING CUP'S RACE.-CAMPBELL RAE-BROWK,
You've never seen Kissing Cup, have you?
Stroll round to the paddock, my lord;
Just cast your eye over the mare, sir,-
You'll say that, upon your word,
You ne'er saw a grander-shaped 'un
In all the whole course of your life.

Have you heard the strange story about her,
How she won Lord Hillhoxton his wife?
No? Well, if you've got a few minutes,
I'll tell you why Kissing Cup, here,
Has lived in this lazy grandeur

Since the first time they let her appear
On a race-course-to run for a wife, sir,
The loveliest girl in the land.

By gad! 'twas a heart-thrilling moment
For them as stood on the stand,

And knew the high stakes that were pending
On Kissing Cup's winning the race—

She ran for a woman's heart, sir,

To save an old name from disgrace.

Here she is, sir;-now look her well over-
There isn't a fault to be found;

See her going-magnificent action!
You're right, sir: the mare is as sound
As she was on the day I rode her
Just ten years ago last June:
I'll never forget how they cheered us,
The mare, and her jock, Bob Doon.
He was always a reckless youngster,
My master, Hillhoxton, you know;
And when the old Marquis died, sir,

He seemed-somehow or other-to go
Right fair clean away to the bad, sir;
And, being a fresh 'un, you see,
The "bookies" just fleeced him a good 'un.
I knew, sir, quite well how 'twould be:

I saw he would go down a mucker,—
Be ruined, sir, sure as fate.
In his careless boyish folly

I saw that the fine old estate
Would be gambled away, the title
Be sullied, perchance, with shame.
I said to myself, "Bob Doon, boy!
You must save your old master's name."
He'd loved a quiet bit o' racing—
I'd been his head jock for years.
I remember the night he died, sir;
His bright eyes filling with tears,
He told me to mind the youngster,
To see that he didn't begin
To gamble-and always remembered
The Hillhoxtons rode to win.
He told me above all to see, sir,

That no scandal e'er touched the stud,
To be sure that our stables harbored
Nought but the purest blood.

He took my rough hand as he finished,
In the same old well-known grip,
As hundreds of times I'd seen him
A-grasping the ribbons and whip.
He didn't last very much longer-
I stood by the bed as he died,
And watched my old master's spirit
Start on its last long ride.

One night, I remember it well, sir,

It must have been just nigh four years After the old Marquis left us,

Very heavy at heart with fears,

I was sitting in one of the stables,

Not dreaming as no one was near,
A-thinking of how things were looking
A mighty sight too deuced queer.

I had turned round my head for a moment
To see as the nags were all right,
When I saw the young master a-standing
Behind me. I started! The sight

Of his face, pale and haggard,

Sent a rush of cold blood to my heart. I knew, sir, that something had happened. "Doon, Doon, my boy! why do you start?

Don't you know me?" he said. "Have I altered?
Have I changed so since yesterday?

No wonder, good God! I am ruined!
I've gambled the old home away.

But the worst-the poor girl, Lady Constance,-
You know how she loves me, old friend,—
What will she think of me now, Bob?

For pity's sake, Heaven defend

And keep her," he cried, "true as ever!
But no, no! I never can wed
You now. God bless you, my darling!
Forget me as if I were dead."

He wept like a child in his sorrow.

"Be a man! be a man, sir," said I;
"Trust to me, I can yet pull you through, sir,
There's a mare in your stud that can fly.
I've kept her-I knew you were playing
Too fast, far too reckless, a game ;
But there's Kissing Cup ready to run for
And save a Hillhoxton's name."

When I saw that the lad was collected,
I asked him to turn and look
At the very first bet he had entered

On the very first page of his book.
He looked at me-eyes full of wonder-

"That's three years ago! What d'ye mean?”

"My lord, you'll forgive me," I answered;

Forgive me, I know you have been
Too hot, aye, too heedless by far, sir,

In your youthful and reckless career;
You've forgotten-just read for a moment
The words that you see written here.
The foal, Kissing Cup, here, is ready
And fit, sir, to run for a life;

In the big race next week she will save you,
Will win you a fortune-and wife."

The boy couldn't speak for a moment.
His pallid lips moved in a groan;

Then he rallied, and grasping my hand, sir,
Held it just like a vise with his own.

The day of the race was a grand one,
But few knew the issue at stake;
We'd tried hard to keep it a secret
For the splendid old Marquis's sake;