There was glory on his forehead, there was luster in

his eye,

And he never walked to battle more proudly than to die;
There was color in his visage, though the cheeks of all

were wan,

And they marveled as they saw him pass, that great and goodly man!

12. A beam of light fell o'er him like a glory round the shriven,

And he climbed the lofty ladder as it were the path

to heaven;

Then came a flash from out the cloud, and a stunning thunder-roll,

And no man dared to look aloft, for fear was on every

soul.

There was another heavy sound, a hush, and then a

groan;

And darkness swept across the sky : the work of death was done!

DEFINITIONS.-1. Pi'broch, a wild, irregular melody for the bagpipes, adapted to excite or allay passion. 2. Elay'mōre, a broadsword. 3. Cai'tiff, a mean person. 4. Leash, a leathern thong. 6. Dăn Ed'in, a poetical synonym for Edinburgh, meaning "the face of a rock." Slō'ğan, the war-cry of a Highland clan in Scotland. 9. Lěv'in-bōlt, a thunder-bolt. 'Lăr'um, an alarm. 10. Spěc'tral, ghostly. 12. Shriv'en, redeemed.

NOTES.-The Marquis of Montrose, James Grahame, attempted to overthrow the power of the Commonwealth, under Cromwell, in favor of Charles II. After his defeat he disguised himself as a peasant, but was perfidiously betrayed by a friend in whom he had trusted. He was taken to Edinburgh and executed in 1650.

3. McLeod of Assynt was the name of the traitor by whom the Great Marquis was betrayed.

7. Archibald Johnston of Warristoun, a bitter enemy of Montrose.

21.-THE HAPPY MOTHER.

CHARLES DICKENS was born at Portsmouth, England, February 7, 1812. In early life he was a parliamentary reporter, for which calling he showed remarkable ability. It was while writing for the Morning Chronicle that his talents first attracted attention through his Sketches by Boz, published in 1836. Soon afterward he published Pickwick Papers, and, following them, a large number of other works, among the most popular of which are David Copperfield, Dombey and Son, Oliver Twist, Nicholas Nickleby, Bleak House, and Master Humphrey's Clock. His lack of an academic education led him to study men rather than books; and it is to this fact that we owe the wonderful delineations of character found in his writings, and for which he is especially famous. He died June 9, 1870, and was buried in Westminster Abbey.

1. THERE was a little woman on board with a little baby; and both little woman and little child were cheerful, good-looking, bright-eyed, and fair to see. The little woman had been passing a long time with her sick mother in New York. The baby was born in her mother's house, and she had not seen her husband (to whom she was now returning) for several months.

2. Well, to be sure, there never was a little woman so full of hope, and tenderness, and love, and anxiety as this little woman was; and all day long she wondered whether "he" would be at the wharf; and whether "he" had got her letter; and whether, if she sent the baby ashore by somebody else, "he" would know it meeting it in the street,—which, seeing that "he" had never set eyes upon it in his life, was not very likely in the abstract, but was probable enough to the young mother.

3. She was such an artless little creature, and was in such a sunny, beaming, hopeful state, and let out all this matter clinging close about her heart so freely, that all the other lady-passengers entered into the spirit of it as much as she; and the captain (who heard all about it from his wife) was wondrous sly, I promise you, inquiring every

time we met at the table, as in forgetfulness, whether she expected anybody to meet her at St. Louis.

4. It was something of a blow to the little woman that when we were within twenty miles of our destination, it became clearly necessary to put this baby to bed. But she got over it with the same good humor, tied a handkerchief round her head, and came out into the little gallery with the rest. Then such an oracle as she became in reference to localities! and such facetiousness as was displayed by the married ladies! and such sympathy as was shown by the single ones! and such peals of laughter as the little woman herself (who would just as soon have cried) greeted every jest with!

5. At last, there were the lights of St. Louis; and here was the wharf, and those were the steps; and the little woman, covering her face with her hands and laughing (or seeming to laugh) more than ever, ran into her own cabin and shut herself up. I have no doubt that, in the charming inconsistency of such excitement, she stopped her ears, lest she should hear "him" asking for her.

6. Then a great crowd of people rushed on board, though the boat was not yet made fast, and everybody looked for the husband, and nobody saw him, when, in the midst of us all,—Heaven knows how she ever got there, there was the little woman clinging with both arms tight round the neck of a fine, good-looking, sturdy young fellow; and in a moment afterward there she was again, actually clapping her little hands for joy as she dragged him through the small door of her small cabin to look at the baby as he lay asleep.

DEFINITIONS.-2. Ăb ́stract, considered apart from other things. 4. Ŏr ́a ele, an authority. Fa çê'tious ness, sportive humor.

22.--DEATH OF LITTLE PAUL.

1. FLOY, did I ever see mamma ?"—"No, darling. Why?"—"Did I ever see any kind face, like mamma's, looking at me when I was a baby, Floy?" He asked incredulously, as if he had some vision of a face before him. -"Oh yes, dear!"-"Whose, Floy ?"-"Your old nurse's. Often.". -"And where is my old nurse?" said Paul. "Is she dead, too? Floy, are we all dead except you?"

2. There was a hurry in the room for an instant,— longer, perhaps, but it seemed no more; then all was still again, and Florence, with her face quite colorless, but smiling, held his head upon her arm. Her arm trembled "Show me that old nurse, Floy, if you very much. please."-"She is not here, darling. She shall come tomorrow."—"Thank you, Floy !"

3. Paul closed his eyes with those words, and fell asleep. When he awoke, the sun was high; and the broad day was clear and warm. He lay a little looking at the windows, which were open, and the curtains rustling in the air and waving to and fro; then he said, "Floy, is it to-morrow? Has she come?"

4. Some one seemed to go in quest of her. Perhaps it was Susan. Paul thought he heard her telling him, when he had closed his eyes again, that she would soon be back ; but he did not open them to see. She kept her word,perhaps she had never been away,-but the next thing that happened was a noise of footsteps on the stairs, and then Paul woke—woke mind and body—and sat upright in his bed. He saw them now about him. There was no gray mist before them, as there had been sometimes in the night. He knew them every one, and called them by their names.

5. “And who is this? Is this my old nurse?" said the child, regarding, with a radiant smile, a figure coming in. Yes, yes! No other stranger would have shed those tears at sight of him, and called him her dear boy, her pretty boy, her own poor blighted child. No other woman would have stooped down by his bed, and taken up his wasted hand, and put it to her lips and breast, as one who had some right to fondle it. No other woman would have so forgotten everybody there but him and Floy, and been so full of tenderness and pity.

6. "Floy, this is a kind, good face!" said Paul. "I am glad to see it again.-Do not go away, old nurse!" His senses were all quickened, and he heard a name he knew. "Who was that who said 'Walter'?" he asked, looking round. "Some one said 'Walter.' Is he here? I should like to see him very much."

7. Nobody replied directly; but his father soon said to Susan, "Call him back, then: let him come up." After a short pause of expectation, during which he looked with smiling interest and wonder on his nurse, and saw that she had not forgotten Floy, Walter was brought into the room. His open face and manner and his cheerful eyes had always made him a favorite with Paul; and when Paul saw him, he stretched out his hand and said, "Good-by!"

8. "Good-by, my child!" cried Mrs. Pipchin, hurrying to his bed's head. "Not good-by?" For an instant Paul looked at her with the wistful face with which he had so often gazed upon her in his corner by the fire. "Ah, yes!" he said, placidly; "good-by!-Walter dear, goodby!" turning his head to where he stood and putting out his hand again. "Where is papa?" He felt his father's breath upon his cheek before the words had parted from his lips.