The Lobster found some Pic-nic-mits, LESSON LXVIII. THE MISER AND THE APPLES.-EDITOR. The following piece is an imitation of Florian, a French writer o the last century, who published several novels, dramas, fables and pastorals of good reputation. A miser once, a selfish fellow, In autumn, when the fruit was mellow, And secretly Chuckled to find he was so sly. Full oft he went to count his treasure, And eat up all the sound ones, while Judge how the urchins made them fly: Until with pleasure noisy grown, They waked their father, who came down, To furious rage at once gave vent, 66 My dear," said she, With well assumed humility, "How can you threaten us so much? LESSON LXIX. BERNARDINE DU BORN. The Henry alluded to in the following poem by our gifted country. Woman, MRS. SIGOURNEY, was Henry the second, whose eldest son, prince Henry, instigated by the king of France, rebelled against him, but while in arms, was seized with a fever, and died full of remorse for his undutiful behavior to his father. Plantagenet was the family name of certain kings of England. KING HENRY sat upon his throne, His eye a recreant knight surveyed- And he that haughty glance returned And loftily his unchanged brow Gleamed through his crispëd hair. “Thou art a traitor to the realm, Lord of a lawless band, The bold in speech, the fierce in broil, And thou beneath the Norman axe 66 Deign'st thou no word to bar thy doom, Hath reason quite forsook thy breast?” Sir BERNARD turned him towards the king, Quick at that name a cloud of woe Passed o'er the monarch's brow, Touched was that bleeding chord of love, To which the mightiest bow. And backward swept the tide of y years; Again his first-born moved, And he remembered at his side, One chosen friend was near, With him in knightly tourney rode, Then in the mourning father's soul Seemed cleansed of guilt to him— 66 And for the dear sake of the dead, LESSON LXX. NOW I'M A MAN. The author is The following piece, though suitable for an advanced boy, comes best from quite a small boy, who affects to be a man. unknown to the editor. The days are gone when I could roll And with a laughing jest or word, Where'er I go, my pace is slow,— In early years I ran; O! I was then a happy child, I used to whistle as I went, The only Is man devouring man! The ladies used to pet me once, And praise my hair and eyes, And "kissing went by favor" then,- Whene'er I come, they now are glum, 66 And call me sir," when I demur, And tell me, I'm a man. Oh! happy, earlier years, when love O! I was then a happy child, LESSON LXXI. MY HOME IS THE WORLD. The following piece was written by THOMAS H. BAYLY, of England. It should be spoken by an advanced pupil, cheerfully the first stanza, then plaintively till the end of the tenth. The eleventh should be spoken in a graver tone, and the last with the recklessness of bitter disappointment. Speed, speed, my fleet vessel! the shore is in sight, Ah! why does despondency weigh down my heart? I see the hills purple with bells of the heath, |