The Ontario Readers Part 1

The Ontario Readers.

by Ontario Ministry of Education.

EMPIRE DAY

I want you to remember what Empire Day means. Empire Day is the festival on which every British subject should reverently remember that the British Empire stands out before the whole world as the fearless champion of freedom, fair play and equal rights; that its watchwords are responsibility, duty, sympathy and self-sacrifice, and that a special responsibility rests with you individually to be true to the traditions and to the mission of your race.

I also want you to remember that one day Canada will become, if her people are faithful to their high British traditions, the most powerful of all the self-governing nations, not excluding the people of the United Kingdom, which make up the British Empire, and that it rests with each one of you individually to do your utmost by your own conduct and example to make Canada not only the most powerful, but the n.o.blest of all the self-governing nations that are proud to owe allegiance to the King.

Earl Grey.

Governor-General of Canada

THIRD READER

TO-DAY

So here hath been dawning Another blue day; Think, wilt thou let it Slip useless away?

Out of Eternity This new day is born; Into Eternity At night will return.

Behold it aforetime No eye ever did; So soon it forever From all eyes is hid.

Here hath been dawning Another blue day; Think, wilt thou let it Slip useless away?

CARLYLE

FORTUNE AND THE BEGGAR

One day a ragged beggar was creeping along from house to house. He carried an old wallet in his hand, and was asking at every door for a few cents to buy something to eat. As he was grumbling at his lot, he kept wondering why it was that folks who had so much money were never satisfied but were always wanting more.

"Here," said he, "is the master of this house--I know him well. He was always a good business man, and he made himself wondrously rich a long time ago. Had he been wise he would have stopped then. He would have turned over his business to some one else, and then he could have spent the rest of his life in ease. But what did he do instead? He built ships and sent them to sea to trade with foreign lands. He thought he would get mountains of gold.

"But there were great storms on the water; his ships were wrecked, and his riches were swallowed up by the waves. Now all his hopes lie at the bottom of the sea, and his great wealth has vanished.

"There are many such cases. Men seem to be never satisfied unless they gain the whole world.

"As for me, if I had only enough to eat and to wear, I would not want anything more."

Just at that moment Fortune came down the street. She saw the beggar and stopped. She said to him:

"Listen! I have long wished to help you. Hold your wallet and I will pour this gold into it, but only on this condition: all that falls into the wallet shall be pure gold; but every piece that falls upon the ground shall become dust. Do you understand?"

"Oh, yes, I understand," said the beggar.

"Then have a care," said Fortune. "Your wallet is old, so do not load it too heavily."

The beggar was so glad that he could hardly wait. He quickly opened his wallet, and a stream of yellow dollars poured into it. The wallet grew heavy.

"Is that enough?" asked Fortune.

"Not yet."

"Isn't it cracking?"

"Never fear."

The beggar's hands began to tremble. Ah, if the golden stream would only pour for ever!

"You are the richest man in the world now!"

"Just a little more, add just a handful or two."

"There, it's full. The wallet will burst."

"But it will hold a little, just a little more!"

Another piece was added, and the wallet split. The treasure fell upon the ground and was turned to dust. Fortune had vanished. The beggar had now nothing but his empty wallet, and it was torn from top to bottom. He was as poor as before.

IVAN KIRLOFF

THE LARK AND THE ROOK

"Good-night, Sir Rook!" said a little lark, "The daylight fades; it will soon be dark; I've bathed my wings in the sun's last ray; I've sung my hymn to the parting day; So now I haste to my quiet nook In yon dewy meadow--good-night, Sir Rook!"

"Good-night, poor Lark," said his t.i.tled friend With a haughty toss and a distant bend; "I also go to my rest profound, But not to sleep on the cold, damp ground.

The fittest place for a bird like me Is the topmost bough of yon tall pine tree.

"I opened my eyes at peep of day And saw you taking your upward way, Dreaming your fond romantic dreams, An ugly speck in the sun's bright beams, Soaring too high to be seen or heard; And I said to myself: 'What a foolish bird!'

"I trod the park with a princely air; I filled my crop with the richest fare; I cawed all day 'mid a lordly crew, And I made more noise in the world than you!

The sun shone forth on my ebon wing; I looked and wondered--good-night, poor thing!"

"Good-night, once more," said the lark's sweet voice, "I see no cause to repent my choice; You build your nest in the lofty pine, But is your slumber more sweet than mine?

You make more noise in the world than I, But whose is the sweeter minstrelsy?"