4. All day she spun in her poor dwelling: On a hill's northern side she dwelt, 5. By the same fire to boil their pottage, But she, poor woman! housed alone. 6. But when the ice our streams did fetter, Oh, then how her old bones would shake! You would have said, if you had met her, 'Twas a hard time for Goody Blake. Her evenings then were dull and dead: Sad case it was, as you may think, very cold to go to bed, For And then for cold not sleep a wink. 7. O joy for her! whene'er in winter The winds at night had made a rout; And scattered many a lusty splinter, And many a rotten bough about. Yet never had she, well or sick, As every man who knew her says, A pile beforehand, turf or stick, Enough to warm her for three days. 8. Now, when the frost was past enduring, Than an old hedge to Goody Blake? She left her fire, or left her bed, 9. Now Harry he had long suspected And to the fields his road would take; And there, at night, in frost and snow, He watched to seize old Goody Blake. 10. And once behind a rick of barley, 11. Right glad was he when he beheld her ; Till she had filled her apron full. 12. And fiercely by the arm he took her, And cried: 'I've caught you then at last!' 13. She prayed, her withered hand uprearing, While Harry held her by the arm God, 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 A THE WOLF ON HIS DEATHBED. That day he wore a riding-coat, But not a whit the warmer he: 15. 'Twas all in vain, a useless matter, And blankets were about him pinned; And Harry's flesh it fell away; And all who see him say 'tis plain, No word to any man he utters, Abed or up, to young or old; His teeth they chatter, chatter still. Of Goody Blake and Harry Gill! 227 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 At easily have killed it, and still I did it no harm. 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 |