6. Poor Yarico! An impertinent fox cub had attempted to carry off one of her children; but she had managed to get them behind her in the hedge, and venturing boldly forth had placed herself in front, and positively kept the impudent animal at bay. His desire for plunder had prevented his noticing our approach, and Jock soon made him feel the superiority of an English mastiff over a cub fox.

7. The most interesting portion of my tale is to come. Yarico not only never afterward ventured to the copse, but formed a strong friendship for the dog which had preserved her family. Whenever he appeared in the yard, she would run to meet him, prating and clucking all the time, and impeding his progress by walking between his legs, to his no small annoyance. If any other dog entered the yard, she would fly at him most furiously, thinking, perhaps, that he would injure her chickens; but she evidently considered Jock her especial protector, and treated him accordingly.

8. It was very droll to see the peculiar look with which he regarded his feathered friend; not knowing exactly what to make of her civilities, and doubting how they should be received. When her family were educated, and able to do without her care, she was a frequent visitor at Jock's kennel, and would, if permitted, roost there at night, instead of returning with the rest of the poultry to the henhouse. Yarico certainly was a most grateful and interesting bird. * *

9. One could almost believe a parrot had intellect, when he keeps up a conversation so spiritedly; and it is certainly singular to observe how accurately a well-trained bird will apply his knowledge. A friend of mine knew one that had been taught many sentences; thus, "Sally, Poll wants her breakfast!" "Sally, Poll wants her tea!" but she never mistook the one for the other; breakfast was invariably demanded in the morning, and tea in the afternoon; and she always hailed her master, but no one else, by "How do you do, Mr. A?"

10. She was a most amusing bird, and could whistle dogs, which she had great pleasure in doing. She would drop bread out of her cage as she hung at the street door, and whistle a number about her, and then, just as they were going to possess themselves of her bounty, utter a shrill scream of "Get out, dogs!" with such vehemence and authority as dispersed the a.s.sembled company without a morsel, to her infinite delight. * * *

11. How wonderful is that instinct by which the bird of pa.s.sage performs its annual migration! But how still more wonderful is it when the bird, after its voyage of thousands of miles has been performed, and new lands visited, returns to the precise window or eaves where, the summer before, it first enjoyed existence! And yet, such is unquestionably the fact.

12. Four brothers had watched with indignation the felonious attempts of a sparrow to possess himself of the nest of a house martin, in which lay its young brood of four unfledged birds.

13. The little fellows considered themselves as champions for the bird which had come over land and sea, and chosen its shelter under their mother's roof. They therefore marshaled themselves with blowguns, to execute summary vengeance; but their well-meant endeavors brought destruction upon the mud-built domicile they wished to defend. Their artillery loosened the foundations, and down it came, precipitating its four little inmates to the ground. The mother of the children, Good Samaritan-like, replaced the little outcasts in their nest, and set it in the open window of an unoccupied chamber.

14. The parent birds, after the first terror was over, did not appear disconcerted by the change of situation, but hourly fed their young as usual, and testified, by their unwearied twitter of pleasure, the satisfaction and confidence they felt. There the young birds were duly fledged, and from that window they began their flight, and entered upon life.

15. The next spring, with the reappearance of the martins, came four, which familiarly flew into the chamber, visited all the walls, and expressed their recognition by the most clamorous twitterings of joy. They were, without question, the very birds that had been bred there the preceding year.

DEFINITIONS.--2. Copse, a grove of small trees or bushes. 4. Sa-ga'cious, quick in discernment. 6. Im-per'ti-nent, rude, intru-sive. 8. Ken'nel, a place for dogs. 10. Ve'he-mence, force. 11. Mi-gra'tion, change of place, removal. 12. Fe-lo'ni-ous, criminal. 13. Dom'i-cile, the home or residence of anyone. Ar-til'er-y, weapons of warfare. 14. Dis-con-cert'ed, interrupted, confused. 15. Rec-og-ni'tion, recollection of a former acquaintance.

LXXI. THE RAINBOW PILGRIMAGE. (197)

By Sara J. Lippincott, born at Onondaga, N. Y., in 1823, of New England parentage. Under the name of "Grace Greenwood" she has written many charming stories for children. Some of her best sketches are in "Records of Five Years."

1. One summer afternoon, when I was about eight years of age, I was standing at an eastern window, looking at a beautiful rainbow that, bending from the sky, seemed to be losing itself in a thick, swampy wood about a quarter of a mile distant.

2. It happened that no one was in the room with me then but my brother Rufus, who was just recovering from a severe illness, and was sitting, propped up with pillows, in an easy-chair, looking out, with me, at the rainbow.

3. "See, brother," I said, "it drops right down among the cedars, where we go in the spring to find wintergreens!"

4. "Do you know, Gracie," said my brother, with a very serious face, "that if you should go to the end of the rain how, you would find there purses filled with money, and great pots of gold and silver?"

5. "Is it truly so?" I asked.

6. "Truly so," answered my brother, with a smile. Now, I was a simple-hearted child who believed everything that was told me, although I was again and again imposed upon; so, without another word, I darted out of the door, and set forth toward the wood. My brother called after me as loudly as he was able, but I did not heed him.

7. I cared nothing for the wet gra.s.s, which was sadly drabbling my clean frock,--on and on I ran: I was so sure that I knew just where that rainbow ended. I remember how glad and proud I was in my thoughts, and what fine presents I promised to all my friends out of my great riches.

8. So thinking, and laying delightful plans, almost before I knew it I had reached the cedar grove, and the end of the rainbow was not there! But I saw it shining down among the trees a little farther off; so on and on I struggled, through the thick bushes and over logs, till I came within the sound of a stream which ran through the swamp. Then I thought, "What if the rainbow should come down right in the middle of that deep, muddy brook!"

9. Ah! but I was frightened for my heavy pots of gold and silver, and my purses of money. How should I ever find them there? and what a time I should have getting them out! I reached the bank of the stream, and "the end was not yet." But I could see it a little way off on the other side. I crossed the creek on a fallen tree, and still ran on, though my limbs seemed to give way, and my side ached with fatigue.

10. The woods grew thicker and darker, the ground more wet and swampy, and I found, as many grown people had found before me, that there was rather hard traveling in a journey after, riches. Suddenly I met in my way a large porcupine, who made himself still larger when he saw me, as a cross cat raises its back and makes tails at a dog. Fearing that he would shoot his sharp quills at me, I ran from him as fast as my tired feet would carry me.

11. In my fright and hurry I forgot to keep my eye on the rainbow, as I had done before; and when, at last, I remembered and looked for it, it was nowhere in sight! It had quite faded away. When I saw that it was indeed gone, I burst into tears; for I had lost all my treasures, and had nothing to show for my pilgrimage but muddy feet and a wet and torn frock. So I set out for home.

12. But I soon found that my troubles had only begun; I could not find my way: I was lost! I could not tell which was east or west, north or south, but wandered about here and there, crying and calling, though I knew that no one could hear me.

13. All at once I heard voices shouting and hallooing; but, instead of being rejoiced at this, I was frightened, fearing that the Indians were upon me! I crawled under some bushes, by the side of a large log, and lay perfectly still. I was wet, cold, scared, altogether very miserable indeed; yet, when the voices came near, I did not start up and show myself.

14. At last I heard my own name called; but I remembered that Indians were very cunning, and thought they might have found it out some way, so I did not answer. Then came a voice near me, that sounded like that of my eldest brother, who lived away from home, and whom I had not seen for many months; but I dared not believe that the voice was his.

15. Soon some one sprang up on the log by which I lay, and stood there calling. I could not see his face; I could only see the tips of his toes, but by them I saw that he wore a nice pair of boots, and not moccasins.

Yet I remembered that some Indians dressed like white folks; so I still kept quiet, till I heard shouted over me a pet name, which this brother had given me. It was the funniest name in the world.

16. I knew that no Indian knew of the name, as it was a little family secret; so I sprang up, and caught my brother about the ankles. I hardly think that an Indian could have given a louder yell than he gave then; and he jumped so that he fell off the log down by my side. But n.o.body was hurt; and, after kissing me till he had kissed away all my tears, he hoisted me on to his shoulder, called my other brothers, who were hunting in different directions, and we all set out for home.

17. I had been gone nearly three hours, and had wandered a number of miles. My brother Joseph's coming and asking for me, had first set them to inquiring and searching me out. When I went into the room where my brother Rufus sat, he said, "Why, my poor little sister! I did not mean to send you off on such a wild-goose chase to the end of the rainbow. I thought you would know I was only quizzing you."

18. Then my eldest brother took me on his knee, and told me what the rainbow really is: that it is only painted air, and does not rest on the earth, so n.o.body could ever find the end; and that G.o.d has set it in the cloud to remind him and us of his promise never again to drown the world with a flood. "Oh, I think G.o.d's Promise would be a beautiful name for the rainbow!" I said.

19. "Yes," replied my mother, "but it tells us something more than that he will not send great floods upon the earth,--it tells us of his beautiful love always bending over us from the skies. And I trust that when my little girl sets forth on a pilgrimage to find G.o.d's love, she will be led by the rainbow of his promise through all the dark places of this world to 'treasures laid up in heaven,' better, far better, than silver or gold."

DEFINITIONS.--2. Re-cov'er-ing, growing well. 3. Win'ter--green, a creeping evergreen plant with bright red berries. 6. Im--posed', (used with on or upon), deceived, misled. 7. Drab'-bling, making dirty by drawing in mud and water. 10. Por'cu--pine, a small quadruped whose body is covered with sharp quills. 11. Pil'grim-age, journey. 15. Moc'ca-sins, shoes of deerskin without soles, such as are usually worn by Indians. 17.

Quiz'zing, making sport of.

LXXII. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. (202)

By Samuel Woodworth, who was born in Ma.s.sachusetts in 1785. He was both author and editor. This is his best known poem. He died in 1842.

1. How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view!

The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wildwood, And every loved spot which my infancy knew; The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it: The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell: The cot of my father, the dairy house nigh it, And e'en the rude bucket which hung in the well: The old oaken bucket, the ironbound bucket, The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.

2. That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure; For often, at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield.

How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing, And quick to the white-pebble bottom it fell; Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well: The old oaken bucket, the ironbound bucket, The moss-covered bucket arose from the well.

3. How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it, As poised on the curb, it inclined to my lips!

Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it, Though filled with the nectar which Jupiter sips; And now, far removed from thy loved situation, The tear of regret will intrusively swell, As fancy reverts to my father's plantation, And sighs for the bucket which hangs in the well: The old oaken bucket, the ironbound bucket, The moss-covered bucket, which hangs in the well.

DEFINITIONS.--l. Cat'a-ract, a great fall of water. 2. O-ver--flow'ing, running over. Ex'qui-site, exceeding, extreme. 3. Poised', balanced.

Goblet, a kind of cup or drinking vessel. Nec'tar, the drink of the G.o.ds.

In-tru'sive-ly, without right or welcome. Re-verts', returns.

EXERCISES.--Who was the author of "The Old Oaken Bucket"? What is said of this piece? What does the poem describe? and what feeling does it express?

LXXIII. THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. (204)

1. And seeing the mult.i.tudes, he went up into a mountain: and when he was set, his disciples came unto him; and he opened his mouth and taught them, saying,