a simple workman in the quarries. His life was rude, he worked much, and gained little; but he was contented with his lot. BAYARD TAYLOR. cav"a-liers', knights or horsemen. ex-hausts', tires out. in"ter-cept'ed, obstructed, cut off. dis-tin'guished, recognized, or saw. tu-mul'tu-ous, with great noise. im'ple-ments, tools. BAYARD TAYLOR (1825-78) was a famous American poet and novelist. He was also a great traveler, much of his traveling being done on foot. In the course of his wanderings he visited almost every country on the globe; and the letters that he wrote to the American papers about foreign lands are very entertaining. He published some novels, many books of travel and of poetry, and translated Goethe's "Faust" into English. "Boys of Other Countries" is a book of great interest to boys. He was secretary of the Legation at St. Petersburg in 1862–63, and in 1873 was appointed United States Minister to Germany. He died at Berlin. THE NIGHT HAS A THOUSAND EYES The night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one ; Yet the light of the bright world dies With the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, And the heart but one; Yet the light of a whole life dies When love is done. FRANCIS WILLIAM BOURDILLON. OLD IRONSIDES Ay, tear her tattered ensign down! And burst the cannon's roar;- Shall sweep the clouds no more! Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, No more shall feel the victor's tread, Oh, better that her shattered hulk Set every threadbare sail, And give her to the God of storms, The lightning and the gale. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. en'sign, the national flag of a ship. | har'pies, vulture-like birds of fable. THE FOOLISH LITTLE AIR-CURRENT I The cyclone was caused by an area of low pressure which was central, last night at nine o'clock, over the Great Lakes. -The Morning Papers. This is the story of the foolish little air-current that at one time was part of a big cyclone-a very foolish little air-current! For days and weeks, and ever since the little air-current could remember, they had been circling round and roundall the big and little air-currents up there together-in long, graceful turns, with the sun shining down through them, and But they used to have a great deal of fun floating round and round all the long, lazy day, with the sun glinting through them. The little air-current had a foolish idea that this was what he was going to do all his life, if he thought about it at all, and one day he remarked, in the hearing of one of the bigger currents, "My! we're going pretty fast to-day." "Huh, 66 Do call this fast?" put in one of the big ones. you just you wait until we get under way!" "We'll be starting soon," he heard one say to another. big ones all have hoarse voices. The "Which direction?" asked one of the little air-currents. North, of course. Are you crazy?" "North is the only direction in summer-time,” said another still bigger current, kindly. The little air-current said, "Of course, north," although he did not know anything about it. And the next day came the word to move. “There's an area of low pressure up over the Gulf States," some one said; "that's what starts us. We are to go and fill it up." "Yes, we must go to fill it up," said the foolish little air current. "Come on, we're going now; " said all the big air-currents, darting and turning more quickly. "Come on!" cried the little one, excitedly. "Get in line there!" shouted one of the big ones. And just then off shot the big circling volume of air, a little to the east of north, toward the state of Mississippi. It was still revolving round and round, but making rapid forward progress now at the same time, like a spinning top that darts off to one side. And the faster it went ahead, the faster it whirled round. 66 Oh, dear!" cried the little air-current, really quite frightened. "Where are we going?" "Hold on tight!" cried the big air-currents. "If you let go, you will be lost!" They, too, were a little frightened, but pretended that they were not. They were not going half so fast as they would be going by and by. Soon they came over the land, and now they swooped down lower. "Ugh! what's that ugly rough stuff?" screamed the little air-current. 66 "Land! "Land!" whistled one of the larger currents. land!" roared the biggest currents. "Land! land!" they all screamed and whistled and roared together. We'll tear it up!" Now they began to go faster and faster. The little aircurrent did not say anything more for a while; he just looked scared and whirled round as the others were doing. "What do you call this game?" he cried to a big current, once in a lull. "Game!" replied the other contemptuously. "This is no game. We are a cyclone now!" He hissed the word " cyclone." "Oh, are we a cyclone?" It is the ambition of an air-current's life to be part of a cyclone. "I'm a cyclone," he repeated to himself. "Just think!" and he dashed down among some trees that were waving and tossing their branches wildly and helplessly. Faster and faster they went, and now they came to a farmhouse, which they picked up, turned round, and put down on the same foundation, only backward. Fields of corn were uprooted. Streams boiled. Here was a town. Now houses |