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beheld a vast store of apples: some, hanging in oppressivt opulence on the trees; some, gathered into baskets and barrels for the market; and others, heaped up in rich piles for the cider-press.

6. Further on, he beheld great fields of Indian corn, with its golden ears peeping from their leafy coverts, and holding out the promise of cakes and hasty-pudding; and the yellow pumpkins, lying beneath them, turning up their fair round proportions to the sun, and giving ample prospects of the most luxurious of pies.

7. Anon he passed the fragrant buckwheat fields, breathing the odor of the bee-hive; and, as he beheld them, soft anticipations of dainty slap-jacks, well buttered, and garnished with honey or treacle, stole over his mipd. Thus feeding his mind with many sweet thoughts and "sugared suppositions," he journeyed along the sides of a range of hills which look out upon some of the goodliest scenes of the mighty Hudson. •

8. The sun gradually wheeled his broad disk down into the west. The wide bosom of the Tappaan Zee * lay motionless and glassy; excepting that here and there a gentle undulation waved and prolonged the blue shadow of the distant mountain: a few amber clouds flouted in the sky, without a breath of air to move them. The horizon was of a fine golden tint, changing gradually into a pure apple green, and from that into the deep blue of the mid-heaven.

9. A slanting ray lingered on the woody crests of the precipices that overhung some parts of the river, giving greater depth to the dark gray and purple of their rocky sides. A sloop was> loitering in the distance, dropping slowly down with the tide, her sail hanging uselessly against the mast; and, as the reflection of the sky gleamed along the still water, it eeemed as if the vessel was suspended in the air.

Q.uEstlOnS- —I. Describe the appearance of the forest trees in early autumn. 2-4. Describe the birds mentioned in this piece. 5. What is said of the appearance of toe orchards? 6, 7. The fields? 8, 9. The Hudson River?

* Tap'paan Zeb, the broad expanse of the Hudson River opposite Tarrytown. N. Y.


1. Helm'jd, famished with a helmet. 4. Ca-ress', to treat with affection.

1. Squad'ron, a body of cavalry. 11. Al'ien-ats, to estrange.

4. Yearn'ing, longing. 11. Ad-jure', to enjoin earnestly.

Errors. — War'-'orBe for -war'-Aorse \ my 'and for my Aand; peace sand for peace and \ tas'e (in for tasfe in; glo'r'us for glo'ri-ous.


[While reading this lesson and others of a similar character, the class must bear in mind, that the language of earnest entreaty, excessive grief or 6orrow, lamentation, remorse, horror, despair, and other kindred emotions, should generally be uttered with moderate movement, and in a tone of voice somewhat subdued and below the middle pitch. It sometimes, however, requires very forcible utterance, the pitch and movement varying with the intensity of the emotions. The falling inflection usually prevails. Se« "Contents" for the names of the pieces from which selections are mad».J

Earnest Longing.

1. O, NO, no !— let me He,

Not on a field of battle, when I die!

Let not the iron tread
Ofitfhe mad war-horse crush my helm-ed head »

Nor let the reeking knife,
That I have drawn against a brother's life,

Be in my hand, when Death
Thunders along, and tramples me beneath

His heavy squadron's heels,
Or gory fellies of his cannon's wheels.

2. But, in my dying hour,

When riches, fame, and honor have no power

To bear the spirit up,
Or from my lips to turn aside the cup

That all must drink at last,
O, let me draw refreshment from the past!

Then, let my soul run back,
With peace and joy, along my earthly track,

And see that all the seeds
Which I have scattered there, in virtuous deeds,

Have sprung up, and have given,
Already, fruits of which to taste in Heaven!


3. Alas, my noble boy! that thou shouldst die!

Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair!
That Death should settle in thy glorious eye,

And leave his stillness in this clustering hair!
How could he mark thee for the silent tomb,
My proud boy, Absalom! *

4. Cold is thy brow, my son! and I am chill,

As to my bosom I have tried to press thee. How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill,

Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee. And hear thy sweet " My father!" from these dumb And cold lips, AbsalomJ

5. And oh! when I am stricken; and my heart,

Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, How will its love for thee, as I depart,

Yearn for thine ear to drink its last deep token! It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom, To see thee, Absalom!

6. And now, farewell! 'T is hard to give thee up,

With death so like a gentle slumber on thee; And thy dark sin! Oh! I could drink the cup,

If from this woe its bitterness had won thee! May God have called thee, like a wanderer, home,

Grief and Lamentation.

My erring Absalom!


* See chapters xviii. and xix. of the Second Book of SamueL


Remorse, Horror, and Despair.

7. O Time! Time! it is fit thou shouldst thus strike thy murderer to the heart! How art thou fled for ever! A month! Oh for a single week! I ask not for years! though an age were too little for the much I have to do!

8. How madly have I talked! My principles have poisoned my friend! my extravagance has beggared my boy! my unkindness has murdered my wife!

9. Eemorse for the past throws my thought on the future. Worse dread of the future strikes it back on the past. I turn, and turn, and find no ray. Didst thou feel half the mountain that is on me, thou wouldst struggle with the martyr for hi8 stake!


Dread and horror.

10. What! attribute the sacred sanction of God and nature to the massacres of the Indian scalping-knife, — to the cannibal savage, torturing, murdering, roasting, and eating, — literally eating the mangled victims of his barbarous battles! Such horrible notions shock every precept of religion, and every generous feeling of humanity!


Earnest Entreaty.

11. House not, I beseech you, a peace-loving but resolute people! Alienate not from your body the affections of a whole empire! As your friend, as the friend of my order, as the friend of my country, as the faithful servant of my sovereign, I counsel you to assist with your uttermost efforts, in preserving the peace, and upholding and perpetuating the Constitution. Therefore, I pray and exhort you not to reject this measure. By all you hold most dear, by all the ties that bind every one of us to our common order and our common country, I solemnly adjure you, I warn you, I implore you, — yea, on my bended knees, I supplicate you, — reject not this bill!


12. "O, haste thee, haste!" the lady cries;

"Though tempests round us gather,
I '11 meet the raging of the skies,
But not an angry father!"

13. "Come back! come back!" he cried, in grief,

"Across the stormy water;
And I '11 forgive your Highland chief,
My daughter! O my daughter!"



2. Re-it'er-a-ted, repeated. 5 E'ther, a subtile aerial fluid.

2. Hou'i-lies, religious discourses. 5. Un-dis-mayct', not disheartened.

3. Gair'isu, gaudy ; brilliant. 6. Pa'geant, a pompous show.

4. Con-vulsed', shaken violently. 6. Race, floating vapor.

Errors—Noise'liss for noise'less; his't'ry for his'to-ry } mon'u-munt for mon'ument; tem'pes' for tem'pesls.


[Language that is solemn, dignified or grave, or whatever partakes of awe, or deep reverence, should generally be read on a low key, with Blow movement, and a clear and full voice approaching monotone.]

Solemnity, Awe, and Reverence.'

1. It seems as if the awful nature of the place presses down upon the soul, and hushes the beholder into noiseless reverence. We feel that we are surrounded by the congregated bones of the great men of past times, who have filled history with their deeds, and the earth with their renown.

2. But what, thought I, is this vast assemblage of sepulchers but a treasury of humiliation, — a huge pile of reiterated homilies on the emptiness of renown, and the certainty of oblivion? It is, indeed, the empire of Death! his great and shadowy place, where he sits in state, mocking at the relics of human glory, and spreading dust and forgetfulness on the monuments of princes.

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