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3. We better love the hardy gift

Our rugged vales bestow,
To cheer us, when the storm shall drift
Our harvest fields with snow.

4. Through vales of grass and meads of flowers,

Our plows their furrows made,
While on the hills the sun and showers
Of changeful April played.

5. We dropped the seed o'er hill and plain,

Beneath the sun of May,
And frightened from our sprouting grain
The robber crows away.

6. All through the long, bright days of June,

Its leaves grew green and fair,
And waved in hot midsummer's noon
Its soft and yellow hair.

7. And now, with Autumn's moonlit eves,

Its harvest time has come;
We pluck away the frosted leaves
And bear the treasure home.

8. There, richer than the fabled gift

Apollo showered of old,
Fair hands the broken grain shall sift,
And knead its meal of gold.

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10. Where'er the wide old kitchen hearth

Sends up its smoky curls,
Who will not thank the kindly earth
And bless our farmer girls!

11. Then shame on all the proud and vain,

Whose folly laughs to scorn

The blessing of our hardy grain,

Our wealth of golden corn!

12. Let earth withhold her goodly root;

Let mildew blight the rye,
Give to the worm the orchard's fruit,
The wheat field to the fly:

13. But let the good old crop adorn

The hills our fathers trod;
Still let us, for his golden corn,
Send up our thanks to God!

From Whittier's "Songs of Labor."

Definitions. — 1. Hoard, a large quantity of anything laid up. Lav'ish, profuse. 4. Meadg, meadows. 9. Vap'id, spiritless, dull. Samp, bruised corn cooked by boiling.

Note. — 8. According to the ancient fable, Apollo, the god of music, sowed the isle of Uelos, his birthplace, with golden flowers, by the music of his lyre.



John Russell (b. 1793, d. 1863) graduated at Middlebury College, Vt., in 1818. He was at one time editor of the "Backwoodsman," published at Grafton, Ill., and later of the " Louisville Advocate." He was the author of many tales of western adventure and of numerous essays, sketches, etc. His language is clear, chaste, and classical; his style concise, vigorous, and sometimes highly ornate.

1. Who has not heard of the rattlesnake or copperhead? An unexpected sight of either of these reptiles will make even the lords of creation recoil; but there is a species of worm, found in various parts of this country, which conveys a poison of a nature so deadly that, compared with it, even the venom of the rattlesnake is harmless. To guard our readers against this foe of human kind is the object of this lesson.

2. This worm varies much in size. It is frequently an inch in diameter, but, as it is rarely seen except when coiled, its length can hardly be conjectured. It is of a dull lead color, and generally lives near a spring or small stream of water, and bites the unfortunate people who are in the habit of going there to drink. The brute creation it never molests. They avoid it with the same instinct that teaches the animals of India to shun the deadly cobra.

3. Several of these reptiles have long infested our settlements, to the misery and destruction of many of our fellowcitizens. I have, therefore, had frequent opportunities of being the melancholy spectator of the effects produced by the subtile poison which this worm infuses.

4. The symptoms of its bite are terrible. The eyes of the patient become red and fiery, his tongue swells to an immoderate size, and obstructs his utterance; and delirium of the most horrid character quickly follows. Sometimes, in his madness, he attempts the destruction of his nearest friends.

5. If the sufferer has a family, his weeping wife and helpless infants are not unfrequently the objects of his frantic fury. In a word, he exhibits, to the life, all the detestable passions that rankle in the bosom of a savage; and such is the spell in which his senses are locked, that no sooner has the unhappy patient recovered from the paroxysm of insanity occasioned by the bite, than he seeks out the destroyer for the sole purpose of being bitten again.

6. I have seen a good old father, his locks as white as snow, his step slow and trembling, beg in vain of his only son to quit the lurking place of the worm. My heart bled when he turned away; for I knew the fond hope that his son would be the "staff of his declining years," had supported him through many a sorrow.

7. Youths of America, would you know the name of this reptile? It is called the Worm Op The Still.

Definitions. — 1. Rep'tileg, animals that crawl, as snakes, lizards, etc. Re-eoil', to start back, to shrink from. 2. Cobra, a highly venomous reptile inhabiting the East Indies. Infested, troubled, annoyed. 3. Sub'tlle, acute, piercing. In-fug'es, introduces. 4. Obstructs', hinders. Delirium, a wandering of the mind. 5. Ran'kle, to rage. Paroxysm, a Jit, a convulsion. 7. W8rm, a spiral metallic pipe used in distilling liquors. Still, a vessel used in distilling or making liquors.


1. Come to the festal board to-night,

For bright-eyed beauty will be there,
Her coral lips in nectar steeped,
And garlanded her hair.

2. Come to the festal board to-night,

For there the joyous laugh of youth
Will ring those silvery peals, which speak
Of bosom pure and stainless truth.

3. Come to the festal board to-night,

For friendship, there, with stronger chain,
Devoted hearts already bound
For good or ill, will bind again.

/ went.

4. Nature and art their stores outpoured;

Joy beamed in every kindling glance; Love, friendship, youth, and beauty smiled; What could that evening's bliss enhance?

We parted.

5. And years have flown; but where are now

The guests who round that table met?
Rises their sun as gloriously
As on the banquet's eve it set?

6. How holds the chain which friendship wove f

It broke; and soon the hearts it bound
Were widely sundered; and for peace,
Envy and strife and blood were found.

7. The merriest laugh which then was heard

Has changed its tones to maniac screams, As half-quenched memory kindles up Glimmerings of guilt in feverish dreams.

8. And where is she whose diamond eyes

Golconda's purest gems outshone?
Whose roseate lips of Eden breathed?
Say, where is she, the beauteous one?

9. Beneath yon willow's drooping shade,

With eyes now dim, and lips all pale,
She sleeps in peace. Read on her urn,
"A broken heart." This tells her We.

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