"Good morning." But the Hare, who was a great man in his way, and vastly proud, did not deign to return the Hedgehog's greeting, but, turning up his nose in a scornful manner, merely said to the Hedgehog: "How comes it that you are running about the fields so early in the morning?" "I am going to take a little walk," said the Hedgehog. “A walk, forsooth!" said the Hare, laughing; “methinks you might put your legs to some better use."

5. This answer disgusted the Hedgehog greatly. Anything else he could have borne, but of his legs he would not hear a word in disparagement, just because they were by nature short. "Do you flatter yourself," said he to the Hare," that you can do more with your legs?" "I fancy so, indeed," said the Hare. "That remains to be seen," answered the Hedgehog; "I'll lay you a wager that I would beat you in a race." "Ha! ha! ha!" said the Hare, holding his sides with laughter; "you are a funny fellow, with your short legs! But, with all my heart, so let it be, if you are so anxious to be beaten. What shall the wager be?" "Three artichokes and three onions," said the Hedgehog. "Agreed!" said the Hare; "let us start at once." "Nay," said the Hedgehog, "not quite so fast, if you please. I have not tasted any food this morning, and will first go home and eat a bit of breakfast. In half an hour I will be here again."

6. So saying, the Hedgehog went his way home, as the Hare was content; and on his way he thought to himself: "The Hare trusts to his long legs, but I will be up with him nevertheless. He gives himself the airs of a fine gentleman, truly, yet he is but a sorry fellow after all. We shall see who will win the wager!"

7. Now, when the Hedgehog reached home he called to his wife, and said: "Wife, dress yourself quickly; you

you

must go with me into the field hard by." "What's in the wind now?" said his wife. The Hedgehog answered: "I have wagered with the Hare three artichokes and three onions that I will run a race with him, and must stand by and see us run.' Mercy upon us, man!" cried his wife," are you stark mad? How could you think for a minute of running a race with a Hare?" "Hold your tongue, wife!" said the Hedgehog; "that is my affair. Do not meddle and make in a man's business." What could the Hedgehog's wife do? She was obliged to follow, whether she would or no.

8. As they were jogging along together, the Hedgehog said to his wife: "Listen, now, to what I say. Look! we shall run our race up yonder long field. The Hare will run in one furrow, and I in another, and we shall start from the top of the field. Now, you have only to sit quietly in the furrow at the farther end, and, when the Hare comes up on the other side, call out to him, Here I am!""

9. By this time they had reached the spot. The Hedgehog placed his wife in the furrow, and then went up to the end of the field. When he came there, the Hare was already on the ground. "Shall we start?" said the Hare. "With all my heart!" said the Hedgehog. "Make ready, then!" So each one took up his place in the furrow. The Hare counted, "One! two! three!" and away he went, like a flash of lightning, down the field. But the Hedgehog only ran about three steps, then squatted down in the furrow, and sat as still

as a mouse.

10. Now, when the Hare, at full speed, reached the end of the field, the Hedgehog's wife called out, "Here I am, waiting for you!" The Hare started, and was not

a little amazed, fully believing that it was the Hedgehog himself who called to him; for, as every one knows, the Hedgehog's wife is for all the world like her husband.

11. But the Hare thought to himself, "There must be some mistake here." So he cried, "Turn about and run again!" and away he went, like an arrow from a bow, till his ears whistled in the wind. But the Hedgehog's wife staid quietly in her place.

12. Now, when the Hare came to the top of the field, the Hedgehog cried out, "Hallo! here I am. Where have you been all this while?" But the Hare was out of his wits, and cried out, "Once more-turn about, and away!" "By all means," answered the Hedgehog; "for my part, as often as you please."

13. So the Hare went on, running backward and forward three-and-seventy times. The seventy-fourth time, however, he did not reach the end of the field; in the middle of the furrow he dropped down dead. But the Hedgehog took the three artichokes and the three onions he had won, called his wife out of the furrow, and away they jogged merrily home together; and, if they are not dead, they are living still.

FOR PREPARATION.—I. (This is a good specimen of the popular stories, half fable, half fairy tale, that are told to children from one generation to another. They resemble the fable in that they all have a moral-sometimes a very deep one-though it is not distinctly told at the end.) In what country is this scene laid? Where are found turnips, larks, buckwheat, hedgehogs, hares, etc.? Have you read Grimm's collection of fairy tales? (These stories are sometimes fragments of old pagan religious myths.)

II. Chuck'-ling, deign (dān), guin'-ea (gin'e), min'-ute (-it), tongue (tăng).

III. Buckwheat (beech-wheat, i. e., resembling the beechnut); nevertheless (what three words compose it?—never-the-less).

IV. Waddling, copsewood, disparagement, wagered, "gives himself the airs of a fine gentleman," "sorry fellow."

V. "For my grandfather used to say," etc.—is this a good reason, or a ridiculous one? Why? "Like a flash of lightning "-this is exaggeration, and is called hyperbole. Of course, no animal could run as fast as a flash of lightning. "Like an arrow from a bow. . . . ears whistled "—this, too, is hyperbole, but not so strong as before. Is it not absurd to compare this second race of the hare, which must have been swifter than the first, to an arrow, when the first was already compared to the lightning flash? The moral of this story teaches how the cunning of mind is superior to brute force. Which is the more admirable, the swiftness of the hare, or the cunning of the hedgehog? Do you admire either very much?

XLV. THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

1. Under a spreading chestnut tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,

With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.

2. His hair is crisp, and black, and long;
His face is like the tan;

His brow is wet with honest sweat;

He earns whate'er he can,

And looks the whole world in the face,
For he owes not any man.

3. Week in, week out, from morn to night,
You can hear his bellows blow;

You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,

Like a sexton ringing the village bell
When the evening sun is low.

4. And children, coming home from school,
Look in at the open door;

They love to see the flaming forge,
And hear the bellows roar,

And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing floor.

5. He goes on Sunday to the church,
And sits among his boys;

He hears the parson pray and preach;
He hears his daughter's voice
Singing in the village choir,

And it makes his heart rejoice.

6. It sounds to him like her mother's voice,
Singing in Paradise!

He needs must think of her once more-
How in the grave she lies;

And, with his hard, rough hand, he wipes

7. Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begun,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose.

8. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou hast taught!

Thus, at the flaming forge of life,
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus, on its sounding anvil, shaped
Each burning deed and thought!

Henry W. Longfellow.