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Now art thou a bachelor, stranger ?” quoth he,

For, an if thou hast a wife,
The happiest draught thou hast drunk this day

That ever thou didst in thy life.”
“ Or has thy good woman, if one thou hast,

Ever here in Cornwall been ? For an if she has, I'll venture my

life She has drunk of the well of St. Keyne.” I have left a good woman who never was here,” The stranger soon made reply; “But that my draught should be better for that I

pray you answer me why ?” “St. Keyne," quoth the countryman,“ many a time

Drank of this crystal well,
And before the Angel summoned her

She laid on the water a spell.”
“ If the husband of this gifted well

Should drink before his wife, A happy man henceafter is he,

For he shall be master for life.”
“But if the wife should drink of it first-

O help the husband then !"
The stranger stoopt to the well of St. Keyne,

And drank of the water again.
“ You drank of the well I warrant betimes ?”

He to the countryman said ; But the countryman smil'd as the stranger spake,

And sheepishly shook his head.
"I hasten’d as soon as the wedding was done,

And left my wife in the porch;
But i' faith she had been wiser than I,
For she took a bottle to church.”

SOUTHEY

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THE WHALE. attendance incessantly decorated phalanx harpooner exhaustion Esquimaux fugitives attached invariably crescent carcases

"A woman's boat is manned by ladies, having as harpooner a chosen man of the tribe, and a shoal of small fry in the form of kayaks, or single men canoes, are in attendance. The harpooner singles out a whale and drives his weapon into its flesh. To the harpoon an inflated seal-skin is attached by means of a walrus-hide thong.

The wounded fish is then incessantly harassed by the men in the kayaks with harpoons, a number of which, when attached to a whale, baffle its efforts to escape and wear out its strength, until, in the course of a day, the whale dies from sheer exhaustion and loss of blood.

“The harpooner, after a successful day's sport, is a very great personage, and is invariably decorated with the Esquimaux order of the blue ribbon, that is, he has a blue line drawn round his face over the bridge of his nose.”

“ An immense shoal of whales was, early in the morning, chased to the mouth of the harbour of Stornoway by two fishing boats, which had met them in the offing. This circumstance was immediately seen from the shore, and a host of boats, about thirty or forty in number, set off to join the others in pursuit, and engage in combat with these giants of the deep. The chase soon became one of bustle and anxiety on the part of both men and whale.

The boats were arranged by their crews in the form of a crescent, in the fold of which the whales were collected, and where they had to encounter tremendous showers of stones, splashing of oars, frequent gashings with harpoons

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and spears,

whilst the din created by the shoutings of the boats' crews and the multitude on shore was in itself sufficient to stupefy and stun the bottle-nosed foe into a surrender. On more than one occasion, however, the floating phalanx was broken, and it required the greatest activity and tact before the breach could be repaired and the fugitives retained. The shore was neared by degrees, the boats advancing and retreating by turns, till at length they succeeded in driving the captive monsters on the beach opposite the town and within a few yards of it. The movements of the whales were now violent, but, except when one became unmanageable and enraged when harpooned, or his tail fixed in a noose, they were not dangerous to approach. One young sailor, however, received a stroke from the tail of one of the largest of them, which promised to be fatal. In a few hours the whales were captured, the shore was strewed with the dead carcases, whilst the sea presented a troubled and bloody appearance, giving evident proof that it was with no small effort that they were subdued and made the property of man."

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HOME AND CLASS WORK.

Learn the spellings at the top of the page; and write sentences containing these words.

THE PALM TREE.

orient foliage Araby

patriot
clasped
cocoas

athwart mien lustre

unconquerable whispered battling

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It waved not through an Eastern sky,
Beside a fount of Araby;
It was not fanned by Southern breeze
In some green isle of Indian seas;
Nor did its graceful shadow sleep
O'er stream of Afric, lone and deep.

But fair the exiled palm-tree grew
Mid foliage of no kindred hue;
Through the laburnum's dropping gold
Rose the light shaft of orient mould,
And Europe's violets, faintly sweet,
Purpled the moss-beds at its feet.

Strange looked it there! The willow streamed
Where silvery waters near it gleamed;
The lime-bough lured the honey-bee
To murmur by the desert's tree,
And showers of snowy roses made
A lustre in its fan-like shade.

There came an eve of festal hours-
Rich music filled the garden bowers;
Lamps that from flowering branches hung
On sparks of dew soft colours flung,
And bright forms glanced-a fairy show-
Under the blossoms to and fro.

But one, a lone one 'mid the throng,
Seemed reckless all of dance and song.
He was a youth of dusky mien,
Whereon the Indian sun had been;
Of crested brow, and long black hair-
A stranger, like the palm-tree, there.
And slowly, sadly, moved his plumes,
Glittering athwart the leafy glooms;
He passed the paie green olives by,
Nor won the chestnut flowers his eye;
But when to that sole palm he came,
Then shot a rapture through his frame!

To him, to him, its rustling spoke,
The silence of his soul it broke!
It whispered of his own bright isle,
That lit the ocean with a smile;
Aye, to his ear that native tone
Had something of the sea-wave's moan.

His mother's cabin-home, that lay
Where feathery cocoas fringed the bay ;
The dashing of his brethren's oar,
The conch-note heard

upon

the shore, All through his wakening bosom swept; He clasped his country's tree and wept !

Oh, scorn him not! The strength whereby
The patriot girds himself to die,
The unconquerable power which fills
The freeman battling on his hills,
These have one fountain, deep and clear
The same whence gushed that child-like tear?

MRS. HEMANS

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