dled in time, encouraging themselves with voice and gesture.

It was a hard calling; and, as the Canadian winters of those times were much more severe than those of ours, it was sometimes a dangerous one.

Every launching of the canoe - that is, every start from the shore - gave a thrill to the sturdiest. Down from the top of the batture (the icy rampart built along the beach by the rising and falling of the tide, and the constant grinding and breaking of the drifting floes) -down from the top of the batture into the dark and whirling waters, the crew hurriedly jumped on board in a desperate entanglement of hands, legs, and arms. It was a matter of a few seconds only, but every heart stood still until the flying start was accomplished.

Enormous lumps of greenish ice block the way: quick! go for them! There they are! Down with the paddle, shoulder the rope, and, forward again on the frozen surface of the river.

Farther on, great masses are crammed and heaped up one upon the other. The passage seems impracticable. No matter, hoist up the canoe, and forward once more over the obstacle!

A crevice opens before us; it is an abyss perhaps Never mind, drive on at all hazards! The water now freezes and sticks to the sides of the canoe,

CATH. FIFTH READER- - 17

impeding our advance; not a moment to lose: roll in! roll in, boys! . . . And we are off again!

Now it is different; everything gives way all around. It is no longer water; it is no longer ice. Paddling is impossible; no point of support to heave upon; prisoners in the melting snow and the dissolving ice! . . Courage, boys! . . . Away, away, all together! . . Forward, anyhow! . .

And the struggle might go on for hours, sometimes even for the whole day.

Oh, yes, it was a hard calling, indeed!

From Christmas in Canada.

-LOUIS FRÉCHETTE.

THE BURDEN

Let night shut out the care of day,
Blot out the sense of wrong,
And in the bath of slumber steep

The soul, till it grow strong.

Then, waking with the coming light,
Arise, and go thy way,
Leaving the burden to the night

That bent thee yesterday.

-CONDE BENOIST PALLEN.

THE DAWNING OF THE DAY

'Twas a balmy summer morning,

Warm and early,

Such as only June bestows;

Everywhere the earth adorning,
Dews lay pearly

In the lily bell and rose,

Up from each green-leafy bosk and hollow
Rose the blackbird's pleasant lay;
And the soft cuckoo was sure to follow:
'Twas the dawning of the day!

Through the perfumed air the golden
Bees flew round me;

Bright fish dazzled from the sea,

Till me dreamt some fairy olden
Would spellbound me

In a trance of witcherie.

Steeds pranced round anon with stateliest housings, Like flushed revelers after wine-carousings:

'Twas the dawning of the day!

Then a strain of song was chanted,
And the lightly

Floating sea-nymphs drew near,

Then again the shore seemed haunted.
By hosts brightly

Clad, and wielding shield and spear:

Then came battle shouts —an onward rushing —

Swords and chariots, and a phantom fray.

Then all vanished: the warm skies were blushing
In the dawning of the day!

Cities girt with glorious gardens,
Whose immortal

Habitants in robes of light

Stood, methought, as angel-wardens
Nigh each portal,

Now arose to daze my sight;

Eden spread around, revived and blooming,
When-lo! as I gazed, all passed away:
I saw but black rocks and billows looming
In the dim chill dawn of the day!

-JAMES CLARENCE MANGAN.

SUCCESS

Ah! know what true success is. Young hearts dream,

Dream nobly, and plan loftily, nor deem

That length of years is length of living. See!

A whole life's labor in an hour is done;

Not by world-tests the heavenly crown is won —

To God the man is what he means to be.

LIBERTY OR DEATH

MR. PRESIDENT: It is natural for man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation?

For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth to know

the worst, and to provide for it. I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past; and, judging by past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House.

Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet! suffer not yourself to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourself how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our