rashly, that much might be said on both sides.' They were neither of them dissatisfied with the knight's determination, because neither of them found himself in the wrong by it. Upon which we made the best of our way to the assizes.

rep u-ta'-tion, good name
cir-cuit, the act of moving round,
the tract of country visited by
judges

in-fi-nite-ly, without limit, very
much
so-lem'-ni-ty, great seriousness
ac-com'-pany, to go with
ad-min-is-tra-tion, the act of exe-
cuting a will, &c.

ac-quit', to discharge, to set free
in-tre-pid'-i-ty, courage
de-sign' (v.), to intend

or-di-na-ry, common

The court was sat before Sir Roger came; but, notwithstanding all the justices had taken their places upon the bench, they made room for the old

knight at the head of them; who, for his reputation in the country, took occasion to whisper in the judge's ear that he was glad his worship had met with so much good weather in his circuit. I was

listening to the proceedings of the court with much attention, and infinitely pleased with that great appearance of solemnity which so properly accompanies such a public administration of our laws; when, after about an hour's sitting, I observed to my great surprise, in the midst of a trial, that my friend Sir Roger was getting up to speak. I was in some pain for him, until I found he had acquitted himself of two or three sentences with a look of much business and great intrepidity.

6

Upon his first rising the court was hushed, and a general whisper ran among the country people that Sir Roger was up.' The speech he made was so little to the purpose, that I shall not trouble my readers with an account of it; and I believe was not so much designed by the knight himself to inform the court, as to give him a figure in my eye, and keep up his credit in the country.

I was highly delighted, when the court rose, to see the gentlemen of the county gathering about my old friend, and striving who should compliment him most; at the same time that the ordinary people gazed upon him at a distance, not a little admiring his courage that he was not afraid to speak to the judge.

In our return home we met with a very odd accident, which I cannot forbear relating, because it shows how desirous all who know Sir Roger are of giving him marks of their esteem. When we were arrived upon the verge of his estate, we stopped at a little inn to rest ourselves and our horses. The man of the house had, it seems, been formerly a servant of the knight's family; and to do honour to his old

master, had, some time since, unknown to Sir Roger, put him up in a sign-post before the door; so that the knight's head hung out upon the road about a week before he himself knew anything of the matter. As soon as Sir Roger was acquainted with it, finding that his servant's indiscretion proceeded wholly from affection and good-will, he only told him that he had made him too high a compliment; and, when the fellow seemed to think that could hardly be, added, with a more decisive look, that it was too great an honour for any man under a duke; but told him, at the same time, that it might be altered with a very few touches, and that he himself would be at the charge of it. Accordingly they got a painter, by the knight's direction, to add a pair of whiskers to the face, and by a little aggravation to the features to change it into the Saracen's head. I should not have known this story, had not the innkeeper, upon Sir Roger's alighting, told him in my hearing that his honour's head was brought last night, with the alterations that he had ordered to be made in it. Upon this my friend, with his usual cheerfulness, related the particulars above mentioned, and ordered the head to be brought into the room. I could not forbear discovering greater expressions of mirth than ordinary upon the appearance of this monstrous face, under which, notwithstanding that it was made to frown and stare in a most extraordinary manner, I could still discover a distant resemblance of my old friend. Sir Roger, upon seeing me laugh, desired me tell him truly if I thought it possible for people to know him in that disguise. I at first kept my usual silence; but upon the knight's conjuring me to tell him whether it was still more like himself than a Saracen, I composed my countenance in the best manner I could and replied, that much might be said on both sides.'

6

These several adventures, with the knight's behaviour in them, gave me as pleasant a day as ever I met with in any of my travels. Addison.

THE SLAVE'S DREAM.

land'-scape, a view of the country
Ni'-ger, a large river in Africa
car-a-van', a body of travellers
mar'-tial, warlike

scab'-bard, the sheath of a sword
fla-min'-go, a sort of wading bird
tam'-a-rind, a sort of plum
Caf-fres, a South African race
riv'-er-horse, the hippopotamus

| myr-i-ad (adj.), very numerous
myr-i-ad (n.), ten thousand; any
large number

tem-pest'-u-ous, noisy, like a tem-
pest
il-lu'-mine, to light up

fet'-ter, a chain for the feet
tri'-umph (n.), conquest; joy for

success

Beside the ungathered rice he lay,
His sickle in his hand,

His breast was bare, his matted hair
Was buried in the sand,

Again, in the mist and shadow of sleep,.
He saw his Native Land.

Wide through the landscape of his dreams
The lordly Niger flowed;
Beneath the palm-trees on the plain

Once more a king he strode;
And heard the tinkling caravans
Descend the mountain-road.

He saw once more his dark-eyed queen
Among her children stand;

They clasped his neck, they kissed his cheeks,
They held him by the hand!

A tear burst from the sleeper's lids

And fell into the sand.

And then at furious pace he rode
Along the Niger's bank;

His bridle-reins were golden chains,
And with a martial clank,

At each leap he could feel his scabbard of steel

Smiting his stallion's flank.

Before him, like a blood-red flag,
The bright flamingoes flew ;

From morn till night he followed their flight,
O'er plains where the tamarind grew,

Till he saw the roofs of Caffre huts

And the ocean rose to view.

At night he heard the lion roar,

And the hyæna scream,

And the river-horse as he crushed the reeds
Beside some hidden stream;

And it passed, like a glorious roll of drums,
Through the triumph of his dream.

The forests, with their myriad tongues,
Shouted of liberty;

And the blast of the desert cried aloud,
With a voice so wild and free,

That he started in his sleep, and smiled
At their tempestuous glee.