LESSON CCXLVIII.

Review.- Who is Jack Frost? What did he do to the mountain? To the trees? What are diamonds and pearls? How does Jack Frost paint such beautiful things on the window panes? What made the pitcher break? What of the author?

PICTURES OF MEMORY.
Among the beautiful pictures
That hang on memory's wall
Is one of a dim old forest.
That seemeth best of all.

I once had a little brother

With eyes that were dark and deep;
In the lap of that dim old forest
He lieth in peace asleep.

Light as the down of the thistle,

Free as the winds that blow,
We roved there the beautiful summers,
The summers of long ago;

But his feet on the hills grew weary,

And one of the autumn eves,

I made for my little brother

A bed of the yellow leaves.

Sweetly his pale arms folded
My neck in a meek embrace,
As the light of immortal beauty
Silently covered his face;

And when the arrows of sunset
Lodged in the tree-tops bright,
He fell, in his saint-like beauty,
Asleep by the gates of light.

Therefore, of all the pictures
That hang on memory's wall,
The one of the dim old forest

Seemeth the best of all.

ALICE CARY.

LESSON CCL.

Review. What is meant by "memory's wall"? What kind of pictures hang there? Where are the "gates of light"? Who was Alice Cary?

WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE.

Woodman, spare that tree!
Touch not a single bough;
In youth it sheltered me,
And I'll protect it now.

'Twas my forefather's hand
That placed it near his cot;
There, woodman, let it stand,
Thy axe shall harm it not.

When but an idle boy

I sought its grateful shade;

My mother kissed me here,
My father pressed my hand;
Forgive this foolish tear,

But let the old oak stand.

My heart-strings round thee cling
Close as thy bark, old friend;

Here shall the wild bird sing,

And still thy branches bend.

Old tree, the storm still brave!
And, woodman, leave the spot;

While I've a hand to save,

Thy axe shall hurt it not.

GEORGE P. MORRIS.

THE GLADNESS OF NATURE.

Is this a time to be gloomy and sad,

When our mother Nature laughs around, When even the deep blue heavens look glad, And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground?

There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and

wren,

And the gossip of swallows through all the sky; The ground-squirrel gayly chirps by his den, And the wilding bee hums merrily.

There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower,

There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree,

There's a smile on the fruit and a smile on the flower,

And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

LESSON CCLI.

Review.-How long does an oak tree live? What is a forefather? Why was the old tree so dear? The author, and what of him?

When is it that all nature smiles? What kind of a tree is the aspen? What of the author?

THE IVY GREEN.

Oh, a dainty plant is the ivy green,

That creepeth o'er ruins old!

Of right choice food are his meals, I ween,
In his cell so lone and cold.

The walls must be crumbled, the stones decayed, To pleasure his dainty whim;

And the mouldering dust that years have made Is a merry meal for him.

Creeping where no life is seen,

A rare old plant is the ivy green.

Whole ages have fled and their works decayed,

And nations scattered been;

But the stout old ivy shall never fade
From its hale and hearty green

The brave old plant in its lonely days
Shall fatten upon the past;

For the stateliest building man can raise
Is the ivy's food at last.
Creeping where no life is seen,

A rare old plant is the ivy green.

CHARLES DICKENS.

BEAUTIFUL SNOW.

Oh, the snow, the beautiful snow!
Filling the sky and the earth below;
Over the house-tops, over the street,
Over the heads of the people you meet,

Dancing,

Flirting,

Skimming along;

Beautiful snow! it can do nothing wrong.