The baker took the money, and placed the right number of rolls in the basket. With these, Neptune hastened back to the kitchen of the inn, and there laid down his trust. It is said that he never tried to take the basket, or even to approach it, on Sunday mornings, when no rolls could be got.

On one occasion, when returning with the rolls, another dog made an attack upon the basket, for the purpose of stealing its contents.* On this, the trusty fellow, placing it on the ground, began to fight with his assailant.* He severely punished him, and then bore off his charge in triumph!

Two gentlemen, brothers, were one day out shooting wild-fowl. They had with them a noble New

foundland dog.

Having thrown down their hats on the grass, they crept through some reeds to the river's bank. After firing at the birds, they proceeded some way down by the side of the stream.

At length they began to wish for their hats. Calling the dog, they sent him back for them; and away he went to fulfil the errand.*

When he reached the place, he made several attempts to bring both hats together in his mouth at once. Finding great difficulty in this, he at last

noticed that one of the hats was smaller than the other. Placing the smaller hat within the larger one, and pressing it down with his foot, he was then able to carry both at the same time!

There are two ways of doing everything—a right and a wrong.

QUESTIONS.-What did the Wimborne dog do every morning? At what time? On what day did he omit this? What did he do when another dog attacked the basket? How did the Newfoundland dog carry the two hats?

mite

have been removed

before it was placed on the table. Yes, it

nay I am quite sure that I heard a horse

just

now.

, you are mistaken.

is come when we must commence
if we wish to keep places in the class.

work,

of the pie, and we

among them.

peace Give each of these boys a

you tell me how the lion and other animals of the cat tribe seize their

Take the bridle

reign

it will be spoiled.

rein Queen Victoria commenced her

in 1837,

Com-rade, friend; companion.
Dis-perse', scatter, throw about.
Fag-ot-band, the band round a bundle
of sticks for fuel.

Fawn, a young deer.

Lone-some, lonely; dismal.

Main-tain', say strongly; hold it true
Min-ster, a large church.
Roe, a female deer.

Sol-i-ta-ry, lonely; with no friends.

Fur-long, not very far; the length of The wild, a wild place; a desert.

which eight make a mile.

Wan-ton, playful, frisky.

OFT I had heard of Lucy Gray:
And, when I crossed the* wild,
I chanced to see, at break of day,
The solitary child.

No mate, no comrade* Lucy knew;
She dwelt on a wide moor,-
The sweetest thing that ever grew
Beside a human door!

You yet may spy the fawn* at play,
The hare upon the green;

But the sweet face of Lucy Gray

Will never more be seen.

66

66

To-night will be a stormy night —
You to the town must go ;

And take a lantern, child, to light
Your mother through the snow.'

That, father, will I gladly do!
'Tis scarcely afternoon-

The minster* clock has just struck two,
And yonder is the moon!"

At this the father raised his hook,
And snapped a fagot-band ;*
He plied his work ;-and Lucy took
The lantern in her hand.

Not blither is the mountain roe :*
With many a wanton* stroke
Her feet disperse* the powdery snow,
That rises up like smoke.

The storm came on before its time:
She wandered up and down;
And many a hill did Lucy climb,
But never reached the town!

The wretched parents all that night
Went shouting far and wide;
But there was neither sound nor sight
To serve them for a guide.

At day-break on a hill they stood,

That overlooked the moor;

And thence they saw the bridge of wood A furlong* from their door.

They wept, and, turning homeward, cried, "In Heaven we all shall meet!"

When in the snow the mother spied

The print of Lucy's feet!

Then, downward from the steep hill's edge,
They tracked the foot-marks small;
And through the broken hawthorn hedge,
And by the long stone wall;

And then an open field they crossed-
The marks were still the same;
They tracked them on, nor ever lost,
And to the bridge they came.

They followed from the snowy banks
Those foot-marks, one by one,
Into the middle of the plank-

And further there were none!-

Yet some maintain* that to this day
She is a living child;

That you may see sweet Lucy Gray
Upon the lonesome* wild.

O'er rough and smooth she trips along,

And never looks behind;
And sings a solitary song

That whistles in the wind.

WORDSWORTH.

QUESTIONS.-Why did Lucy Gray go out on the moor? What caused her to lose her way? What did her parents do all night? Where did they spy her foot-prints? How far did they track them? What had become of her?

Friends are plenty when the purse is . . . .

....