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11. Right glad was he when he beheld her ;

Stick after stick did Goody pull: He stood behind a bush of elder,

Till she had filled her apron full. When with her load she turned about,

The by-way back again to take : He started forward with a shout,

And sprang upon poor Goody Blake.

12. And fiercely by the arm he took her,

And by the arm he held her fast, And fiercely by the arm he shook her,

And cried : ‘I've caught you then at last ! Then Goody, who had nothing said,

Her bundle from her lap let fall,
And, kneeling on the sticks, she prayed

To God that is the Judge of all.

13. She prayed, her withered hand uprearing,

While Harry held her by the armGod, Who art never out of hearing, 0 may

he never more be warm !' The cold, cold moon above her head,

Thus on her knees did Goody pray; Young Harry heard what she had said, And icy cold he turned away.

14. He went complaining all the morrow That he was cold and

very

chill : His face was gloom, his heart was sorrow,

Alas! that day for Harry Gill!

That day he wore a riding-coat,

But not a whit the warmer he:
Another was on Thursday bought;

And ere the Sabbath he had three.

15.
'Twas all in vain, a useless matter,

And blankets were about him pinned;
Yet still his jaws and teeth they chatter,

Like a loose casement in the wind.
And Harry's flesh it fell away ;

And all who see him say 'tis plain,
That live as long as live he may,

He never will be warm again.

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No word to any man he utters,

Abed or up, to young or old;
But ever to himself he mutters :
'Poor Harry Gill is very

cold !'
Abed or up, by night or day,

His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
Now think, ye farmers all, I pray,

Of Goody Blake and Harry Gill!

THE WOLF ON HIS DEATHBED.

A wolf lay in the struggle of death, and cast an inquiring glance over his past life. Certainly I am a sinner,' said he; 'but I hope not one of the worst kind. I have indeed done some evil deeds, but also a great deal of good. Once, I remember, a bleating lamb that had strayed from the flock, came so close to me that I could easily have killed it, and still I did it no harm. At this very time, I listened to the abuse and mockery of a sheep with the most admirable indifference, although I had no need to dread protecting dogs.' And I can bear witness to all that, interrupted his friend, the fox, who was helping to prepare him for death. “I remember every circumstance connected with it.

It was at the very time when you were so choked with the bone that the good-natured crane afterwards pulled out of your throat.'

THE SHEPHERD AND THE PRINCE.

Not far from Germany lies Switzerland, a small country, but well known in the history of nations. High are the hills there, and they seem to wish to conceal the eternal spring of Italy from the rest of Europe. But, notwithstanding this threatening look, and in spite of the cover of snow which, year after year, clothes them in a wintry dress, there are delightful valleys in their bosom, that give you an idea of the glories beyond. In one of these hidden valleys there stood, in olden times, an ancient castle on rocky ground, near to a lake. Green meadows and hills were all around, shady woods and sunny Alps far and near-only the old castle looked gloomily and sadly into the green mirror of the lake; and when the wanderer had rejoiced his eye by the gay flowers of the field and the silvery light of the playing waves, and his glance wandered from the little paradise to the gloomy castle, he felt timid and uncomfortable at heart.

A shepherd-boy, who belonged to the neighbouring

district, had chosen the declivity that ran opposite the castle down to the lake, as a pasture-ground for his flock. Day after day, during the fine season of the year, he sat on a rock that projected over the water, and made baskets, mats, and cages ; often he played sweet airs upon his flute, while his lambs enjoyed the juicy herbs of the Alps. When the sounds of the shepherd's flute resounded so sweetly along the lonely shore, and the silence carried them to the opposite bank, a little window in the old castle was opened, and a pale but pleasant face looked out towards the shepherd-boy until twilight came, and the little musician drove his flock homeward. But with the morning dawn he appeared again, and he was glad, when he saw the pale face of a boy at the window, listening with pleasure to the sounds. Who can the poor fellow be?' thought the good young shepherd; 'why can they have locked him into that ugly castle, for he must be locked in, or he would come out to me in the open

air ?' With these thoughts in his mind, he wandered along the shore towards the castle, and he nodded to the boy with the black curls at the window. But beautiful as the songs were, kind words though he gave, and though he beckoned with all his heart, everything was in vain. The inhabitant of the castle shook his head sadly, and shrugged his shoulders, but he would not come.

“I must see what it is,' cried Jery—that was the shepherd's name—and wandered on to the castle. His lambs had followed him; but he whistled to his faithful dog, and desired him to guard the sheep carefully until his return. He wagged his tail obediently, for he understood every word of his master's, and collected the flock to drive them back to their grazing-place.

Jery soon reached the gate of the castle; but what was his astonishment when he found armed men, with long beards and threatening swords, holding watch there. Terrified, he was going to creep away; but it was too late. One of the soldiers had noticed him, and laid hold of him. They all began to question him—who he was? from whence he came ? what he wanted here? The boy was half-dead with terror, but as a good conscience never allows people to be disgraced, he soon recovered himself, and told them openly what had brought him there.

‘How?' cried the one who had caught him— how? You wished to steal to the prisoner? You shall pay dearly for that; we will put you into a little chamber, where you

will lose your curiosity soon enough.' Saying these words, the soldiers dragged Jery into the courtyard, and he was just about to be thrown into a dark dungeon, when a gentle voice was heard from an

upper window.

'Leave him alone, pray—the poor boy ! cried the little prisoner ; 'even if you wish to prevent him from coming up to me to lessen my sorrow a little, do not, please, harm him.'

The men were moved to pity—they held a council together; and at last they led Jery up to his unknown friend, who received him in a splendid room. The golden walls, the marble floor, the many splendours which Jery saw here for the first time, made him silent, so that he scarcely returned the friendliness of the inhabitant of the castle.

· Don't be afraid,' said he, and give me your your songs have given me much pleasure already, and I have great need of some.'

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