mons; and of course you can't go. don't go without the umbrella. debt for what I care-it won't be ing your clothes-better lose it; lose debts who lend umbrellas. No, indeed, you You may lose the so much as spoilpeople deserve to And I should like to know how I'm to go to mother's without the umbrella? O don't tell me that I said I wouldn't go-that's nothing to do with it; nothing at all. She'll think I'm neglecting her, and the little money we're to have, we shan't have at all, because we've no umbrella. The children too, dear things, they'll be sopping wet; for they shan't stay at home; they shan't lose their learning; it's all their father will leave them, I'm sure. But they shall go to school. Don't tell me I said they shouldn't; you are so aggravating, Caudle, you'd spoil the temper of an angel; they shall go to school; mark that! And if they get their deaths of cold, it's not my fault: I didn't lend the umbrella. Caudle, are you asleep? (A loud snore is heard.) O what a brute a man is! O dear, dear, d-e-a-r! DOUGLAS JERROLD. Biography.-Douglas Jerrold was born in London in 1803, and died in 1857. He passed his eleventh and twelfth years as a midshipman in the British navy, out of which experience he composed "Blackeyed Susan," one of his most successful plays. In London, Jerrold rose from the position of a printer's apprentice to that of editor of a magazine. He became widely known as a contributor to London "Punch," a humorous publication of extensive circulation. Language.—Mrs. Caudle's Lectures appear to be more humorous from the suppression of Mr. Caudle and the consequent loss of the form of dialogue. Supply what Mr. Caudle is supposed to have said in the first three paragraphs. 36. THE AMERICAN FLAG. sym'bols, signs. lĕg'a çies, gifts. em blazon ry, signs or figures on shields or standards. ef fül'ġent, bright; shining. rămp’ant, standing upright on im môr' tal, everlasting. be něf'i çent, kind; generous. When a man of thoughtful mind sees a nation's flag, he sees not the flag only, but the nation itself; and whatever may be its symbols, he reads chiefly in the flag, the government, the principles, the truth, the history, which belong to the nation which sets it forth. When the French tricolor N rolls out to the wind, we see France. When the new-found Italian flag is unfurled, we see Italy restored. When the other three-cornered Hungarian flag shall be lifted to the wind, we shall see in it the long-buried, but never dead, principles of Hungarian liberty. When the united crosses of St. Andrew and St. George N on a fiery ground set forth the banner of Old England, we see not the cloth merely; there rises up before the mind the noble aspect of that monarchy, which, more than any other on the globe, has advanced its banner for liberty, law, and national prosperity. This nation has a banner, too; and wherever it streamed abroad, men saw daybreak bursting on their eyes, for the American flag has been the symbol of liberty, and men rejoiced in it. Not another flag on the globe had such an errand, or went forth upon the seas, carrying everywhere, the world around, such hope for the captive and such glorious tidings. The stars upon it were to the pining nations like the morning stars of God, and the stripes upon it were beams of morning light. As at early dawn the stars stand first, and then it grows light, and then, as the sun advances, that light breaks into banks and streaming lines of color, the glowing red and intense white striving together and ribbing the horizon with bars effulgent, so on the American flag, stars and beams of many-colored lights shine out together. And wherever the flag comes, and men behold it, they see in its sacred emblazonry, no rampant lion and fierce eagle, but only light, and every fold indicative of liberty. The history of this banner is all on one side. Under it rode Washington and his armies; before it Burgoyne laid down his arms. It waved in the highlands at West Point; it floated over old Fort Montgomery. When Arnold would have surrendered these valuable fortresses and precious legacies, his night was turned into day, and his treachery was driven away by the beams of light from this starry banner. It cheered our army, driven from New York, in their solitary pilgrimage through New Jersey. It streamed in light over Morristown and Valley Forge. It crossed the waters rolling with ice at Trenton; and when its stars gleamed in the cold morning with victory, a new day of hope dawned on the despairing nation; and when, at length, the long years of war were drawing to a close, underneath the folds of this immortal banner sat Washington while Yorktown surrendered its hosts, and our Revolutionary struggles ended with victory. Let us then twine each thread of the glorious tissue of our country's flag about our heartstrings; and looking upon our homes and catching the spirit that breathes upon us from the battle-fields of our fathers, let us resolve, come weal or woe, we will, in life and in death, now and forever, stand by the stars and stripes. They have been unfurled from the snows of Canada to the plains of New Orleans; in the halls of the Montezumas and amid the solitude of every sea; and everywhere, as the luminous symbol of resistless and beneficent power, they have led the brave to victory and to glory. They have floated over our cradles; let it be our prayer and our struggle that they shall float over our graves. HENRY WARD BEECHER. Biography.—Henry Ward Beecher was born at Litchfield, Connecticut, in 1813. After graduating at Amherst College, Mr. Beecher devoted himself to the study of theology, and soon became successful in his profession. Since 1847, he has been pastor of Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, New York. Mr. Beecher's style as a writer is clear and forcible; and in preaching or lecturing, he exhibits, in addition to those qualities, wonderful grace of manner and fluency of expression. His principal works are his sermons; but he has also written one volume of "A Life of Christ," and "Norwood," a novel. He was, for many years, editor of the "Christian Union." Notes. St. Andrew was the patron saint of Scotland; St. George, the patron saint of England. The oblique cross of St. Andrew and the vertical cross of St. George are united on the British flag. Tricolor means three-colored. The national banner of France is three-colored-blue, white, and red. The halls of the Montezumas means in Mexico, since the Montezumas were formerly the sovereigns of that country. 37 -THE BISON TRACK. prime, charge with powder. tĕth ́ered, tied. leagues, distances equal to three miles. re şist'less, not to be opposed. eär'eas$, dead body of an animal. stam pēda, sudden flight from fright. brin'ded, having many colors. Strike the tent!N The sun has risen; Sharpen well the hunting spear; Fiercely stamp the tethered horses, As they neigh with keen desire. For the prairie's distant thunder See! a dusky line approaches; Hark the onward surging roar, On a sounding wall of shore! And their stubborn horns are clashing |