3. The trees shook hands high overhead,
And bowed and intertwined across

The narrow way; while leaves, and moss,
And luscious fruit, gold-hued and red,
Through all the canopy of green

Let not one sun-shaft shoot between.

4. Birds hung and swung, green-robed and red,
Or drooped in curved lines dreamily,
Rainbows reversed, from tree to tree;
Or sang, low-hanging, overhead--
Sang low, as if they sang and slept;
Sang faint, like some far waterfall,
And took no note of us at all--
Though nuts that in the way were spread
Did crush and crackle as we stept.

5. Wild lilies, tall as maidens are--
As sweet of breath, as pearly fair,
As fair as faith, as pure as truth-
Fell thick before our every tread,
As in a sacrifice to ruth;
And all the air with perfume filled,
More sweet than ever man distilled.
The ripened fruit a fragrance shed,
And hung in hand-reach overhead,
In nest of blossoms on the shoot,
The bending shoot that bore the fruit.

6. How ran the monkeys through the leaves !
How rushed they through, brown clad and blue,
Like shuttles hurried through and through
The threads a hasty weaver weaves !

7. How quick they cast us fruits of gold,
Then loosened hand and all foot-hold,
And hung, limp, limber, as if dead,
Hung low and listless overhead;
And all the time, with half-oped eyes
Bent full on us with mute surprise—
Looked wisely, too, as wise hens do
That watch you with the head askew.

8. The long days through on blossomed trees
There came the sweet song of sweet bees,
With chorus tones of cockatoo,

That slid his beak along the bough,

And walked and talked, and hung and swung,
In crown of gold and coat of blue ;
The wisest fool that ever sung,

Or had a crown, or held a tongue.

JOAQUIN MILLER.

LESSON XXXV.

SPEECH AT THE GETTYSBURG CEMETERY.

Con çeived,' formed in the | De trăet', to take away.

mind; devised.

Děd'i eāte, to set apart for a sacred purpose; to devote formally and solemnly.

Fo

Prop'o şi'tion, a declaration;

a statement.

De vō'tion, eager inclination;

affection.

OURSCORE and seven years ago our fathers brought forth upon this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any

nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war.

2. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting-place for those who gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But in a larger sense we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground.

3. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather to be now dedicated to the unfinished work which those who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.

4. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us, that from these honored dead. we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion; that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain; that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that Government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth. ABRAHAM LINCOLN.

THE USES OF ENMITY.

Where thou art strong and stout thy friend to thee will show

Where thou art weak alone is taught thee by thy foe. Though friend with flattery soothe, or foe stab through and through,

Praise cannot save the False, nor malice kill the True. W. W. STORY.

LESSON XXXVI.

THE WILL.

Mr. SWIPES, a Brewer. Mr. CURRIE, a Saddler. FRANK MILLINGTON, Squire DRAWL.

Těs'ta ment (Law), a will; a¡ Trust ees', persons to whom

solemn, authentic instrument
in writing. by which a person
declares his will in regard to

property is legally committed in trust, for the benefit of others.

the disposal of his property Chaise,

after death.

a two-wheeled carriage for two persons, with a top, and the body hung on leather straps, called thorough-braces. In'stru ment (Law), a legal writing expressing some act, contract, or process, as a deed, writ, etc.

SWIPES. A sober occasion this, Brother Currie. Who would have thought the old lady was so near her end? CURRIE. Ah! we must all die, Brother Swipes, and those who live longest only bury the most.

SWIPES. True, true; but since we must die and leave our earthly possessions, it is well that the law takes such good care of us. Had the old lady her senses when she departed?

CURRIE. Perfectly, perfectly. Squire Drawl told me she read every word of her testament aloud, and never signed her name better.

SWIPES. Had you any hint from the Squire what disposition she made of her property?

CURRIE. Not a whisper; the Squire is as close as an underground tomb; but one of the witnesses hinted

to me that she has cut off her graceless nephew with a cent.

SWIPES. Has she, good soul! has she? You know I come in, then, in right of my wife.

CURRIE. And I in my own right; and this is, no doubt, the reason why we have been called to hear the reading of the will. But here comes the young reprobate; he must be present as a matter of course, you know. [Enter FRANK MILLINGTON.] Your servant, young gentleman. So your benefactress has left you at last?

SWIPES. It is a painful thing to part with old and goods friends, Mr. Millington.

FRANK. It is so, sir; but I could bear the loss better had I not been so often ungrateful for her kindness. She was my only friend, and I knew not her value.

CURRIE. It is too late to repent, Master Millington. You will now have a chance to earn your own bread-

SWIPES. Ay, by the sweat of your brow, as better people are obliged to. You would make a fine brewer's boy, if you were not too old.

CURRIE. Ay, or a saddler's lackey, if held with a tight rein.

FRANK. Gentlemen, your remarks imply that my aunt has treated me as I deserved. Allow me to bid you good day. [He meets the Squire.]

SQUIRE. Stop, stop, young man! We must have your presence. Good morning, gentlemen; you are early on the ground.

SWIPES. It is a trying scene to leave all one's possessions in this manner.

CURRIE. It really makes me feel melancholy when I look round and see everything but the venerable owner of these goods.