9. When the farmer came down to breakfast that morning, upon looking at the Clock, he declared that his watch had gained half an hour in the night.

XXIX. THE GRANDFATHER.

hale, healthy; gesund.

Jane Taylor.

man'-tel-tree, a shelf over a fireplace; Kaminsims.
plod, to go slowly; langsam gehen.

heave, to rise and fall; sich heben und senken.

1. The farmer sat in his easy-chair

Smoking his pipe of clay,

While his hale old wife with busy care
Was clearing the dinner away;

A sweet little girl with fine blue eyes,
On her grandfather's knee, was catching flies.

2. The old man laid his hand on her head,
With a tear on his wrinkled face,

He thought how often her mother, dead,
Had sat in the self-same place;

As the tear stole down from his half-shut eye,
"Don't smoke!" said the child, "how it makes

you cry!'

3. The house-dog lay stretched out on the floor,
Where the shade, afternoons, used to steal;
The busy old wife by the open door

Was turning the spinning-wheel,

And the old brass clock on the mantel-tree
Had plodded along to almost three.

4. Still the farmer sat in his easy-chair,

While close to his heaving breast
The moistened brow and the cheek so fair
Of his sweet grandchild were pressed;

His head bent down, on her soft hair lay;
Fast asleep were they both on that summer day.

Charles G. Eastman.

XXX. THE CAMEL.

gruff, rough; rauh; barsch.

poke in, to thrust in; hineinstecken.

po-lite', elegant in manner; höflich.

pit'-e-ous, mournful; kläglich.

rheu ́-ma-tism, a painful inflammation; Rheumatismus.
craft'-y, cunning; schlau.

im'-pu-dent, shameless; unverschämt.

rep-re-sent', to bring before the mind; darstellen; abbilden.

1. One bitter cold day a man lighted a large fire, and lying down before it, he exclaimed, "Oh! how comfortable this is, how good it is to be warm." "So it appears," said a gruff voice outside.

2. The man turned round, and beheld a Camel standing by the door of the hut, which, unfortunately for him, he had left open. Too lazy to rise, he contended himself with taking up a stick, which he threw at the Camel,- but the latter merely bowed his head, until he could poke it in the door, while he said, "Allow me to warm my nose, it is so cold!"

3. "Go away," exclaimed the man, throwing another stick at him,—"I do not want your ugly head in my hut, there is scarcely room for me."

"I will poke it in a little way only," said the Camel; "and as for its being ugly, it certainly is neither kind nor polite to remind me of that which is a misfortune rather than a fault!

4. A few minutes afterwards he heard a heavy step, and looking up, he saw that the Camel had managed to put his fore feet as well as his great shoulders inside the hut.

5. "Come, this is too much of a good thing," said the man, as he took up a stick and began beating him; "just please to get out of my hut, or I will make you.”

6. "Dear sir," replied the Camel in a piteous tone of voice, while he tried hard to squeeze out a few tears;

"dear sir, you were kind enough to allow me to put my head in, and as a matter of course, my shoulders followed; as for my feet, I can not see that they take up much room. If you only knew how the fire warms my poor bones, and how I suffer from the rheumatism, you would have some pity." "Well, well, I don't want to be hard upon you, but remember-you are not to come a step nearer."

7. "No, certainly not," said the crafty Camel, while all the time he was creeping in by slow degrees; "no, certainly not," and in another moment he gave a push and got his whole body inside the hut. "Well, you are impudent," exclaimed the man, who, fearing lest he might be crushed, ran for safety to a corner of the hut: "I told you there was no room for you, and yet here you are, how can you impose thus upon my good nature?"

8. The Camel only replied by stretching himself at full length on the floor of the hut.

This cool manner of treating the matter made the man so angry that he seized the poker and began beating the Camel.

9. "Have a care, my friend," said the latter, as he returned the blows with one stroke from his leg, "two can play at that game"; and then, as the unfortunate man fell down crushed and bleeding, he added,—“You have no one to blame but yourself; had you not given me permission to put my head in your hut, my body would not have followed."

10. The man may represent conscience, and the Camel some sinful passion. Conscience being nearly asleep, leaves the door of the heart unguarded. And then sin came, looking so great and ugly, and making excuse to get in, while conscience was too much at ease to resist.

11. When the man had looked at the Camel a little while, he did not think him ugly; and that is true, for, when people get over their first hatred of gross sin, they

begin to think it not so bad as it once appeared,—and then it comes just like the Camel, creeping, creeping in by slow degrees, until the heart is filled with it and conscience is silenced forever.

12. The man thought himself secure from danger, and so left the door of his hut open; sin enters in and takes possession of our hearts.

H. D. Howe.

mas'-sa-cre, the killing of many human beings; Gemeßel; Blutbad.

mis'-er-a-ble, wretched; jämmerlich.

slaugh'-ter, to kill; schlachten; niedermeßeln.

a-tro'-cious, grossly wicked; gräßlich; entseßlich.

di-a-bol'-ic-al, devilish; teuflisch.

com-mem'-o-rate, to call to remembrance; gedenken.

au-thor'-i-ty, a person exercising power or command; Obrigkeit. con-so-la'-tion, comfort; Trost.

1. In the autumn of the year one thousand five hundred and seventy-two, one of the greatest barbarities ever committed in the world took place at Paris.

It is called in history the massacre of Saint Bartholomew, because it took place on Saint Bartholomew's Eve. The day fell on Saturday, the twenty-third of August. On that day all the great leaders of the Protestants, who were there called Huguenots, were assembled together, for the purpose, as was represented to them, of doing honor to the marriage of their chief, the young King of Navarre, with the sister of Charles the Ninth, a miserable young king, who then occupied the French throne.

2. This dull creature was made to believe by his mother and other fierce Roman Catholics about him, that the Huguenots meant to take his life; and he was persuaded to give secret orders that, on the tolling of a great bell,

they should be fallen upon by an overpowering force of armed men, and slaughtered wherever they could be found.

3. When the appointed hour was close at hand, the stupid wretch, trembling from head to foot, was taken into a balcony by his mother to see the atrocious work begun. The moment the bell tolled, the murderers broke forth. During all that night, and the two next days, they broke into the houses, fired the houses, shot and stabbed the Protestants, men, women, and children, and flung their bodies into the streets. They were shot at in the streets as they passed along, and their blood ran down the gutters. Upwards of ten thousand Protestants were killed in Paris alone; in all France, four or five times that number.

4. To return thanks to God for these diabolical murders, the Pope and his train actually went in public procession at Rome; and, as if this were not shame enough for them, they had a medal struck to commemorate the event!

5. But, however comfortable the wholesale murders were to those high authorities, they had not that soothing effect upon the doll-king. He never knew a moment's peace afterwards. He was continually crying out that he saw the Huguenots covered with blood and wounds falling dead before him. He died within a year, shrieking and yelling and raving to that degree, that if all the popes who had ever lived had been rolled into one, they could not have afforded His guilty Majesty the slightest consolation.

Charles Dickens.