LESSON XLIV.

peaş'ants, those who work on farms.

hedgerowş, rows of shrubs or trees used to inclose a space. tow'ers, very high buildings.

an çès’tral, belonging to a family for a great many years. mŏn'areh, king; ruler. roy'al ty, kings and queens. gifts, things given; presents.

COMMON GIFTS.

The sunshine is a glorious thing,
That comes alike to all,
Lighting the peasant's lowly cot,
The noble's painted hall.

The moonlight is a gentle thing,
Which through the window gleams
Upon the snowy pillow, where
The happy infant dreams.

It shines upon the fisher's boat
Out on the lonely sea,

As well as on the flags which float
On towers of royalty.

The dewdrops of the summer morn
Display their silver sheen

Upon the smoothly-shaven lawn,
And on the village green.

There are no gems in monarch's crown

More beautiful than they;

And yet you scarcely notice them,
But tread them off in play.

The music of the birds is heard,
Borne on the passing breeze,

As sweetly from the hedgerows as
From old ancestral trees.

There are as many lovely things,

As many pleasant tones,

For those who dwell by cottage hearths
As those who sit on thrones.

Directions for Reading.-This lesson should be read with a full and clear tone of voice. The thoughts expressed are not of a

conversational nature.

In the first stanza, in the contrast between peasant's' lowly' cot' and noble's^ painted^ hall^, the inflections are rising circumflexes and falling circumflexes.

The rising circumflex consists of a downward turn of the voice followed by an upward turn; the falling circumflex, of an upward turn followed by a downward turn.

Let pupils mark the inflections in the last two lines of the poem.

Language Lesson.-Let pupils express the meaning of what is given below in dark type, using a single word for each example.

For those who dwell by cottage hearths

As those who sit on thrones.

LESSON XLV.

re quest', a wish that is expressed; | knǎek, an easy way of doing any

"I have not a room in the house; but if you don't mind going down to the cottage, and coming up here to your meals, I can take you, and would be glad to," said Mrs. Grant, in answer to my request for board.

"Where is the cottage?" and I looked about me, feeling ready to accept anything in the way of shelter, after the long, hot journey from, Boston to breezy York Harbor.

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Right down there-just a step, you see. It's all in order; and next week it will be full, for many folks prefer it because of the quiet."

At the end of a very steep path, which

offered every chance for accidents of all sorts, from a sprained ankle to a broken neck, stood the cottage — a the cottage-a little white building, with a pretty vine over the door, gay flowers in the garden, and the blue Atlantic rolling up at the foot of the cliff.

"A regular Cottage by the Sea.' It will suit me exactly if I can have the upper front room. I don't mind being alone; so have my trunk taken down, please, and I'll get ready for tea," said I, feeling very happy on account of my good luck.

Alas, how little I knew what a night of terror I was to pass in that pretty white cottage!

An hour later, refreshed by my tea and the coolness of the place, I plunged into the pleasures of the season, and accepted two invitations for the evening-one to a walk on Sunset Hill, the other to a clambake on the beach.

The stroll came first, and on the hilltop we met an old gentleman with a spyglass, who welcomed me with the remark

"Pretty likely place for a prospect."

After replying to what he said, I asked the old gentleman if he knew any legend

or stories about the old houses all around

us.

"Yes, many of them," he replied; "and it isn't always the old places that have the most stories about 'em.

"Why, that cottage down yonder isn't more'n fifty years old, and they do say there's been a lot of ghosts seen there, owin' to a man's killin' of himself in the back bedroom."

"What! that house at the end of the lane?" I asked, with sudden interest.

"Just so; nice place, but lonesome and dampish. Ghosts and toadstools are apt to locate in houses of that sort," was his mild reply.

The dampness scared me more than the ghosts, for I had never seen a ghost yet; but I had been haunted by rheumatism, and found it a hard thing to get rid of.

"I've taken a room there, so I'm rather interested in knowing what company I'm to have."

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Taken a room, have you? Well, I dare say you won't be troubled. Some folks have a knack of seeing spirits, and then again some haven't.