2. They tell me that, in Italy, And dooms the victim dead. 3. They tell me, too, of serpents vast, But there is yet one of a kind That stings the body and the mind; 4. Tis found almost o'er all the earth, 5. The poisonous venom withers youth, It is the author, too, of shame; And never fails to kill. Reader, dost thou desire the name? The SERPENT OF THE STILL. Milford Bard. QUESTIONS.-1. What is said to be more poisonous than the rattlesnake? 2. What is its size and color, and where is it found? 3. What are the symptoms of its bite? 4. What can you say of the Egyptian asp? 5. Of the reptile in Italy? 6. Of the serpents of Africa? 7. What one more fatal than these? 8. Where is it found? 9. What are the effects of its poison? 10. What is its name? What emphatic sentences in this lesson? Is there ay difference in the degree of emphasis which they require, and how is it signified? (Les. VIII. Note 1.) What do the apostrophes, found in the fourth verse of the second part, denote? (See Spelling Book, page 158.) LESSON XXII. SPELL AND DEFINE.-1. Supernatural, beyond what is natural; miracrious. 2. Impudent, without shame; wanting modesty. 3. Deeased, dead. 4. Adopted, taken as one's own. 5. Ungrateful, not thankful. 6. Incurred, made one's self subject to. 7. Vigils, watches; forbearance of sleep. NOTE.-The dash at the end of a remark, denotes that the speaker is interrupted by the one with whom he is conversing. Mrs. Credulous and the Fortune-Teller.-ANON. Mrs. Credulous ARE you the fortune-teller, sir, that knows every thing? Fortune Teller. I sometimes consult futurity, madam, but I make no pretensions to any supernatural knowledge. Mrs. C. Ayè, so you say; but every body else says you know every thing; and I have come all the way from Boston to consult you, for you must know I have met with a dreadful loss. FT. We are liable to losses in this world, mádam. Mrs. C. Yès, and I have had my share of them, though I shall be only fifty, come Thanksgiving. FT. You must have learned to bear misfortunes with fortitude, by this time. Mrs. C. I don't know how that is, though my dear husband, rest his soul, used to say, "Molly you are as patient as Jòb, though you never had any children to lose as he had." F. T. Job was a model of patience, madam, and few could lose their all with so much resignation. Mrs. C. Ah, sír, that is too trùe, for even the small loss I have suffered overwhelms me. F. T. The loss of property, madam, comes home to the bosom of the best of us. Mrs. C. Yes, sir; and when the thing lost can not be replaced, it is doubly distressing. When my poor, good man, on our wedding day, gave me the ring, "Keep it, Molly,' said he "till sake." And now, diè, for you that I should have lost it, after keeping it thirty years, and locking it up so carefully all the time, as I did— my FT. We can not be too careful in this world, madam; our best friends often deceive us. Mrs. C. True, sir, true-but who would have thought that the child I took, as it were, out of the street, and brought up as my own, could have been guilty of such ingratitude? She never would have touched what was not her own, if her vagabond lover had not put her up to it. F. T. Ah, madam, ingratitude is the basest of all crimes. Mrs. C. Yes, but to think that the impudent creature should deny she took it, when I saw it in the possession of that wretch myself. FT Impudence, madam, usually accompanies crime. But my time is precious, and the star that rules your destiny will set, and your fate be involved in darkness, unless I proceed to business immediately. The stars inform me, madam, that you are a widow." Mrs. C. La! sir, was you acquainted with my deceased husband? F. T. No, madam, we do not receive our knowledge by such means. Thy name is Mary, and thy dwelling place is Boston. Mrs. C. Some spirit must have told you this, for certain. F. T. This is not all, madam. You were married at the age of twenty years, and were the sole heir of your deceased husband. Mrs. C. I perceive, sir, you know every thing. F. T. Madam, I can not help knowing what I do know, I must therefore inform you that your adopted daughter, in the dead of night Mrs. C. No, sir, it was in the day-time. F. T. Do not interrupt me, madam. In the dead of night, your adopted daughter planned the robbery which deprived you of your wedding-ring. Mrs. C. No earthly being could have told you this, for I never let my right hand know that I possessed it, lest some evil should happen to it. F. T. Hear me, madam, you have come all this distance to consult the fates, and find your ring. Ms. C. You have guessed my intention exactly, sir. F. T. Guéssed! madam. I know this is your object; and I know, moreover, that your ungrateful daughter has incurred your displeasure by receiving the addresses of a worthless man. Mrs. C. Every word is gospel truth. F. T. This man has persuaded your daughter. Mrs. C. I knew he did, I told her so. But, good sir, can you tell me who has the ring? F. T. This young man has it. F. T. No matter, madam, he has it. Mrs. C. But how shall I obtain it again? F. T. The law points out the way, madam-it is my business to point out the rogue-you must catch hím. Mrs. C. You are right, sir-and if there is law to be had, I will spend every cent. I own, but I will have it. I knew he was the robber, and I thank you for the information. [Going.] F. T. But thanks, madam, will not pay for all my nightly vigils, consultations, and calculations. Mrs. C. O, right, sir. I forgot to pay you. indebted to you? F. T. Only five dollars, madam. What am I Mrs. C. [Handing him the money.] There it is, sir. I would have paid twenty rather than not have found the ring. F. T. I never take but five, madam. Farewell, madam friend is at the door with your chaise. your [Enter, Friend.] [He leaves the room.] Friend. Well, Mary, what does the fortune-teller say? Mrs. C. O, he told me I was a widow, and lived in Boston, and had an adopted daughter-and Friend. But you knew all this before, did you not? Mrs. C. Yes; but how should he know it? le told me, too, that I had lost a ring, Friend. Did he tell you where to find it? Mrs. C. O yes! he says that fellow has it, to law and get it, if he will not give it up. think of that? any and I must go What do you Friend. It is precisely what fool could have told you. But how much did you pay for this precious information. Mrs. C. Only five dollars. Friend. How much was the ring worth? Mrs. C. Why two dollars, at least. Friend. Then you have paid ten dollars for a chaise to bring you here, five dollars for the information that you had already, and all this to gain possession of a ring not worth one quarter of the expense! I will go Mrs. C. O, the rascal! how he has cheated me. to the world's end but I will be revenged. Friend. You had better go home, and say nothing about it, for every effort to recover your money will only expose your folly." QUESTIONS.-1. What did the fortune-teller first tell Mrs. C. that the stars informed him? 2 How had he learned this from her own remarks? 3. What did he next tell her, and how had he learned it? 4. What had she said, from which he knew that she was married at twenty, and the sole heir of her husband? 5. How did he know what she had lost, and who had taken it? 6. How did he know that her adopted daughter had incurred her displeasure? 7. How was she told she must get her ring? 8. What did she pay the fortune-teller? 9. How much for her chaise ? 10. What was her ring worth? 11. Was she a bright dame ? Is the first question direct or indirect? What inflection has its answer, and why? (Rule II. Note II.) What tones of voice should be assumed in order to personate the different individuals, introduced in this dialogue? Should the voice fall at the dash, when it is used to denote an interrup tion? Why is you emphatic, third paragraph? (Les. VIII. Note VIII.) Can you account for the different inflections as marked on sir? Why has the second word, guessed, the rising inflection as marked? LESSON XXIII. SPELL AND DEFINE.-1. Or'de al, a severe trial; a test. 2. Inclina tion, a leaning of the mind or will to some object. 3. Precincts, limits or bounds. 4. Sanctify, to cleanse; literally, to make holy. 5. Divorced, separated. 6. Brood, to remain in anxious thought. 7. Portals, doors. 8. Pensive, thoughtful. 9. Extinguishes, puts out, or destroys. 10. Compunctious, causing pain on account of offenses. 11. Affectionate, having great love. Sorrow for the Dead.-W. IRVING. The 1. THE grave is the ordeal of true affection. It is there that the divine passion of the soul, manifests its superiority to the instinctive impulse of mere animal attachment. latter must be continually refreshed and kept alive by the presence of its object; but the love that is seated in the soul can live on lo ig remembrance. 2. The mere inclinations of sense languish and decline with the charms which excited them, and turn with disgust from the dismal precincts of the tomb; but it is thence that truly spiritual affection rises, purified from every sensual desire, and returns, like a holy flame, to illumine and sanctify the heart of the survivor. 3. The sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow from which we refuse to be divorced. Every other wound we seek to heal, every other affliction to forget, but this wound we con |