McGuffey's Fifth Eclectic Reader Part 28

De-ceased', dead. Con-vened', met together, a.s.sembled. Im-pri'mis (Latin), in the first place. Chaise (pro. shaz), a kind of two-wheeled carriage.

Re-formed', returned to a good state. Prof'li-gate, a person openly and shamelessly vicious. In'stru-ment (a term in law), a writing expressive of some act, con-tract, etc.

NOTES.--Terms having the same, or nearly the same, meaning, as, "will and testament," "give and bequeath," "to have and to hold," "sole and exclusive," are commonly joined in this way in legal doc.u.ments.

Personal property usually consists of things temporary and movable, while real property includes things fixed and immovable such as lands and tenements.

LV. THE NOSE AND THE EYES.

William Cowper (b. 1731, d. 1800) was the son of an English clergyman, and was born in Great Berkhamstead, Hertfordshire, England. He was sent to Westminster School when he was ten years of age, and he remained there, a diligent student, eight years. He then studied law, and was admitted to the bar, but he never practiced his profession. He was appointed to a clerkship in the House of Lords when he was about thirty years old, but he never entered upon the discharge of his duties. He became insane, and was sent to a private asylum. After his recovery, he found a home in the family of the Rev. Mr. Unwin. On the death of this gentleman, he resided with the widow till her death--most of the time at Olney. His first writing's were published in 1782. "The Task," some hymns, a number of minor poems, and his translations or Homer, composed his published works.

His insanity returned at times, and darkened a pure and gentle life at its close.

1. Between Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose; The spectacles set them, unhappily, wrong; The point in dispute was, as all the world knows, To which the said spectacles ought to belong.

2. So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause, With a great deal of skill and a wig full of learning, While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws, So famed for his talent in nicely discerning.

3. "In behalf of the Nose, it will quickly appear, And your lordship," he said, "will undoubtedly find, That the Nose has the spectacles always to wear, Which amounts to possession, time out of mind."

4. Then, holding the spectacles up to the court, "Your lordship observes, they are made with a straddle As wide as the ridge of the Nose is; in short, Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle.

5. "Again, would your lordship a moment suppose ('T is a case that has happened, and may happen again) That the visage or countenance had not a Nose, Pray, who would or who could wear spectacles then?

6. "On the whole it appears, and my argument shows, With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose, And the Nose was as plainly intended for them."

7. Then shifting his side (as a lawyer knows how), He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes: But what were his arguments, few people know, For the court did not think them equally wise.

8. So his lordship decreed, with a grave, solemn tone, Decisive and clear, without one if or but, That whenever the Nose put his spectacles on, By daylight or candlelight,--Eyes should be shut.

DEFINITIONS.--2. Ar'gued, discussed, treated by reasoning. Dis-cern'ing (pro. diz-zern'ing), marking as different, distinguishing, 3. Be-half', support, defense. 8. De-creed', determined judicially by authority, ordered,

LVI. AN ICEBERG.

Louis Legrand n.o.ble (b. 1813, d. 1882) was horn in Otsetgo County, New York. When twelve years of age, he removed with his family to the wilds of Michigan, but after the death of his father he returned to New York to study for the ministry, which he entered in 1840. About this time he published his first productions, two Indian romances in the form of poems, ent.i.tled "Pewatem" and "Nimahmin." Mr. n.o.ble lived for a time in North Carolina, and later at Catskill on the Hudson, where he became a warm friend of the artist Cole. After the latter's death he wrote a memorial of him. Other works of this author are "The Hours, and other Poems," and "After Icebergs with a Painter," from which this selection is taken.

1. We have just pa.s.sed a fragment of some one of the surrounding icebergs that had amused us. It bore the resemblance of a huge polar bear, reposing upon the base of an inverted cone, with a twist of a seash.e.l.l, and whirling slowly round and round. The ever-attending green water, with its aerial clearness, enabled us to see its spiral folds and horns as they hung suspended in the deep.

2. The bear, a ten-foot ma.s.s in tolerable proportion, seemed to be regularly beset by a pack of hungry little swells. First, one would take him on the haunch, then whip back into the sea over his tail and between his legs. Presently a bolder swell would rise and pitch into his back with a ferocity that threatened instant destruction. It only washed his satin fleece the whiter.

3. While Bruin was turning to look the daring a.s.sailant in the face, the rogue had pitched himself back into his cave. No sooner that, than a very bulldog of a billow would attack him in the face. The serenity with which the impertinent a.s.sault was borne was complete. It was but a puff of silvery dust, powdering his mane with fresher brightness. Nothing would be left of bull but a little froth of all the foam displayed in the fierce onset. He too would turn and scud into his hiding place.

4. Persistent little waves! After a dash, singly, all around, upon the common enemy, as if by some silent agreement underwater, they would all rush on at once, with their loudest roar and s.h.a.ggiest foam, and overwhelm poor bear so completely that nothing less might be expected than to behold him broken in four quarters, and floating helplessly asunder. Mistaken spectators! Although, by his momentary rolling and plunging, he was evidently aroused, yet neither Bruin nor his burrow was at all the worse for all the wear and washing.

5. The deep fluting, the wrinkled folds, and cavities, over and through which the green and silvery water rushed back into the sea, rivaled the most exquisite sculpture. And nature not only gives her marbles, with the finest lines, the most perfect lights and shades, she colors them also.

She is no monochromist, but polychroic, imparting such touches of dove tints, emerald, and azure as she bestows upon her gems and skies.

6. We are bearing up under the big berg as closely as we dare. To our delight, what we have been wishing and watching for is actually taking place: loud explosions, with heavy falls of ice, followed by the cataract-like roar, and the high, thin seas, wheeling away beautifully crested with sparkling foam. If it is possible, imagine the effect upon the beholder: this precipice of ice, with tremendous cracking, is falling toward us with a majestic and awful motion.

7. Down sinks the long water line into the black deep; down go the porcelain crags and galleries of gla.s.sy sculpture--a speechless and awful baptism. Now it pauses, and returns: up rise sculptures and crags streaming with the shining white brine; up comes the great encircling line, followed by things new and strange--crags, niches, balconies, and caves; up, up, it rises, higher and higher still, crossing the very breast of the grand ice, and all bathed with rivulets of gleaming foam. Over goes the summit, ridge, pinnacles, and all, standing off obliquely in the opposite air. Now it pauses in its upward roll: back it comes again, cracking, cracking, cracking, "groaning out harsh thunder" as it comes, and threatening to burst, like a mighty bomb, into millions of glittering fragments. The spectacle is terrific and magnificent. Emotion is irrepressible, and peals of wild hurrah burst forth from all.

DEFINITIONS.--1. Cone, a solid body having a circular base, from which it tapers gradually to a point. 2. Swells, waves. 3. Se-ren'i-ty, quietness, calmness. 5. Ex'qui-site, exceedingly nice, giving rare satisfaction.

Sculp'ture, carved work. Mon'o-chro-mist, one who paints in a single color. Pol-y-chro'ic, given to the use of many colors. 7. Pin'na-cles, high, spirelike points. Ob-lique'ly, slantingly. Ir-re-press'i-ble, not to be restrained.

Notes--Only about one eighth of an iceberg appears above the surface of the water. When one side of it grows heavier than another, through unequal melting and the action of the waves, the whole ma.s.s rolls over in the water in the manner so well described in this lesson.

LVII. ABOUT QUAIL.

William Post Hawes (b. 1803, d.1842) was born in New York City. and was a graduate of Columbia College. He was a lawyer by profession. His writings consist mainly of essays, contributed to various newspapers and magazines, and show great descriptive power. He was a frequent contributor to the "Spirit of the Times," under the t.i.tle of "Cypress, Jr.," on various sporting topics. After his death a collection of his writings was published in two volumes, ent.i.tled, "Sporting Scenes" and "Sundry Sketches."

1. The quail is peculiarly a domestic bird, and is attached to his birthplace and the home of his forefathers. The various members of the aquatic families educate their children in the cool summer of the far north, and bathe their warm bosoms in July in the iced waters of Hudson Bay; but when Boreas scatters the rushes where they had builded their bedchambers, they desert their fatherland, and fly to disport in the sunny waters of the south.

2. The songsters of the woodland, when their customary crops of insects and berries are cut off in the fall, gather themselves to renew their loves and get married in more genial climes. Presently, the groves so vocal, and the sky so full, shall be silent and barren. The "melancholy days" will soon be here; only thou, dear Bob White, wilt remain.

3. The quail is the bird for me. He is no rover, no emigrant. He stays at home, and is identified with the soil. Where the farmer works, he lives, and loves, and whistles. In budding springtime, and in scorching summer--in bounteous autumn, and in barren winter, his voice is heard from the same bushy hedge fence, and from his customary cedars. Cupidity and cruelty may drive him to the woods, and to seek more quiet seats; but be merciful and kind to him, and he will visit your barnyard, and sing for you upon the boughs of the apple tree by your gateway.

4. When warm May first wooes the young flowers to open and receive her breath, then begin the cares and responsibilitie of wedded life. Away fly the happy pair to seek some gra.s.sy tussock, where, safe from the eye of the hawk and the nose of the fox, they may rear their expectant brood in peace.

5. Oats harvest arrives, and the fields are waving with yellow grain. Now be wary, O kind-hearted cradler, and tread not into those pure white eggs ready to burst with life! Soon there is a peeping sound heard, and lo! a proud mother walketh magnificently in the midst of her children, scratching and picking, and teaching them how to swallow. Happy she, if she may be permitted to bring them up to maturity, and uncompelled to renew her joys in another nest.

6. The a.s.siduities of a mother have a beauty and a sacredness about them that command respect and reverence in all animal nature, human or inhuman--what a lie does that word carry--except, perhaps, in monsters, insects, and fish. I never yet heard of the parental tenderness of a trout, eating up his little baby, nor of the filial grat.i.tude of a spider, nipping the life out of his gray-headed father, and usurping his web.

7. But if you would see the purest, the sincerest, the most affecting piety of a parent's love, startle a young family of quails, and watch the conduct of the mother. She will not leave you. No, not she. But she will fall at your feet, uttering a noise which none but a distressed mother can make, and she will run, and flutter, and seem to try to be caught, and cheat your outstretched hand, and affect to be wing-broken and wounded, and yet have just strength to tumble along, until she has drawn you, fatigued, a safe distance from her threatened children and the young hopes of her heart; and then will she mount, whirring with glad strength, and away through the maze of trees you have not seen before, like a close-shot bullet, fly to her skulking infants,

8. Listen now. Do you hear those three half-plaintive notes, quickly and clearly poured out? She is calling the boys and girls together. She sings not now "Bob White!" nor "Ah! Bob White!" That is her husband's love call, or his trumpet blast of defiance. But she calls sweetly and softly for her lost children. Hear them "Peep! peep! peep!" at the welcome voice of their mother's love! They are coming together. Soon the whole family will meet again.

9. It is a foul sin to disturb them; but retread your devious way, and let her hear your coming footsteps, breaking down the briers, as you renew the danger. She is quiet. Not a word is pa.s.sed between the fearful fugitives.

Now, if you have the heart to do it, lie low, keep still, and imitate the call of the hen quail. O mother! mother! how your heart would die if you could witness the deception! The little ones raise up their trembling heads, and catch comfort and imagined safety from the sound. "Peep! peep!"

They come to you, straining their little eyes, and, cl.u.s.tering together and answering, seem to say, "Where is she? Mother! mother! we are here!"

DEFINITIONS.--1. A-quat'ic, frequenting the water. 2. Vo'cal, having a voice. 3. I-den'ti-fied, united. Cu-pid'i-ty, eager desire to possess something. 4. Tus'sock, a tuft of gra.s.s or twigs. 5. Cra'dler, one who uses a cradle, which is an instrument attached to a scythe in cutting grain. 6. U-surp'ing, seizing and holding in possession by force. 7.

Af-fect', to pretend. 9. De'vi-ous, winding.

NOTE.--l. Boreas is the name which the ancient Greeks gave to the north wind.

LVIII. THE BLUE AND THE GRAY.

1. By the flow of the inland river, Whence the fleets of iron have fled, Where the blades of the grave gra.s.s quiver, Asleep are the ranks of the dead;-- Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Under the one, the Blue; Under the other, the Gray.