"How is this?" said the Englishman: "do you mean to insult me?" The other replied, "I insult, thou insultest, he insults, we insult, you insult, they insult." "This is too much," said the Englishman ; "I will have satisfaction: if you have any spirit with your rudeness, come along with me." To this defiance the imperturbable stranger replied, "I come, thou comest, he comes, we come, you come, they come ;" and thereupon he rose with great coolness, and followed his challenger.

In those days, when every gentleman wore a sword, duels were speedily despatched. They went into a neighboring alley, and the Englishman, unsheathing his weapon, said to his antagonist, "Now, sir, you must fight me." "I fight,” replied the other, "thou fightest, he fights, we fight," (here he made a thrust,) "you fight, they fight;" and here he disarmed his antagonist. "Well," said the Englishman, "you have the best of it, and I hope you are satisfied." "I am satisfied," said the original, "thou art satisfied, he is satisfied, we are satisfied, you are satisfied, they are satisfied." "I am glad every body is satisfied," said the Englishman; "but pray leave off quizzing me in this strange manner, and tell me what is your object, if you have any, in doing it."

The grave gentleman now, for the first time, became intelligible. “I am a Dutchman,” said he, “and am learning your language. I find it very difficult to remember the peculiarities of the verbs; and my tutor has advised me, in order to fix them in my mind, to conjugate every English verb that I hear spoken. This I have made it a rule to do. I don't like to have my plans broken in upon while they are in operation, or I would have told you of this before." The Englishman laughed heartily at this explanation, and invited the conjugating Dutchman to dine with them. "I will dine,” replied he, "thou wilt dine, he will dine, we will dine, you will dine, they will dine, we will dine all together." This they accordingly did, and it was difficult to say whether the Dutchman ate or conjugated with most perseverance.

XLVIII.-NEW YEAR'S EVE.

TENNYSON.

[Alfred Tennyson, the author of this poem, is the most distinguished of the living poets of England.]

IF you're waking, call me early, call me early, mother dear,
For I would see the sun rise upon the glad New Year;
It is the last New Year that I shall ever see;

Then you may lay me low in the mould, and think no more of

me.

To-night I saw the sun set; he set and left behind

The good old year, the dear old time, and all my peace of

mind;

And the New Year's coming up, mother, but I shall never see The May upon the blackthorn, the leaf upon the tree.

Last May we made a crown of flowers; we had a merry day! Beneath the hawthorn on the green they made me Queen o'

May;

And we danced about the May-pole, and in the hazel copse, Till Charles's Wain* came out above the tall, white chimney

tops.

There's not a flower on all the hills; the frost is on the pane; I only wish to live till the snowdrops come again;

I wish the snow would melt, and the sun come out on high; I long to see a flower so, before the day I die.

The building rook 'll caw from the windy, tall elm tree,

And the tufted plover pipe along the fallow lea;

And the swallow'll come back again with summer o'er the

wave;

But I shall lie alone, mother, within the mouldering grave.

* A constellation in the heavens.

Upon the chancel casement, and upon

that grave of mine,

In the early, early morning, the summer sun 'll shine,
Before the red cock crows from the farm upon the hill,
When you are warm asleep, mother, and all the world is still.

When the flowers come again, mother, beneath the waning

light,

You'll never see me more in the long, gray fields at night;
When from the dry, dark wold the summer airs blow cool
On the oat grass, and the sword grass, and the bulrush in the

pool.

You'll bury me, my mother, just beneath the hawthorn shade, And you'll come sometimes and see me where I am lowly laid; I shall not forget you, mother; I shall hear you when you pass, With your feet above my head, in the long and pleasant grass.

I have been wild and wayward, but you'll forgive me now; You'll kiss me, my own mother, upon my cheek and brow; Nay,―nay,—you must not weep, nor let your grief be wild; You should not fret for me, mother; you have another child.

If I can, I'll come again, mother, from out my resting place; Though you'll not see me, mother, I shall look upon your face; Though I cannot speak a word, I shall hearken what you say, And be often, often with you, when think I'm far away.

you

Good night, good night: when I have said good night forever

more,

And you see me carried out from the threshold of the door, Don't let Effie come to see me till my grave be growing

green;

She'll be a better child to you than I have ever been.

She'll find my garden tools upon the granary floor;

Let her take 'em; they are hers; I shall never garden more;

But tell her, when I'm gone, to train the rosebush that I set About the parlor window, and the box of mignonette.

Good night, sweet mother! call me before the day is born;
All night I lie awake, but I fall asleep at morn;

But I would see the sun rise upon the glad New Year;
So, if you're waking, call me, call me early, mother dear.

XLIX. THE GRISLY BEAR.

[This lesson has been compiled, partly from Godman's American Natural History, and partly from a sketch by Captain Mayne Reid.]

THE grisly bear is, beyond all question, the most formidable of all the wild creatures inhabiting the continent of America. Did he possess the swiftness of foot of either the lion or tiger of the old world, he would be an assailant as dangerous as either; for he is endowed with the strength of the former, and quite equals the latter in ferocity. Fortunately, the horse outruns him; were it not so, many a human victim would be his, for he can easily overtake a man on foot. As it is, hundreds of well-authenticated stories attest the prowess of this fierce creature. There is not a "mountain man in America who cannot relate a string of perilous adventures about the grisly bear; and the instances are far from being few in which human life has been sacrificed in conflicts with this savage beast.

The grisly bear is an animal of large dimensions. Specimens have been killed, which were as large as the largest polar bear, though there is much variety in the sizes of the different individuals. About five hundred pounds may be taken as the average weight. In shape, the grisly bear is a much more compact animal than either the black or polar species; his ears are larger, his arms stouter, and his aspect fiercer. His teeth are sharp and strong; but that

which his enemies most dread is the armature* of his paws. The paws themselves are so large as frequently to leave in the mud a track of twelve inches in length by eight in breadth; and from the extremities of these formidable fists protrude horn-like claws full six inches long. Of course, I am speaking of individuals of the largest kind.

These claws are crescent shaped, and would be still longer, but in all cases nearly an inch is worn from their points. The animal digs up the ground in search of marmots, burrowing squirrels, and various esculent † roots; and this habit accounts for the blunted condition of his claws. They are sharp enough, notwithstanding, to peel the hide from a horse or buffalo, or to drag the scalp from a hunter- a feat which has been performed by grisly bears on more than one occasion.

The color of this animal is most generally brownish, with white hairs intermixed, giving that grayish or grizzled appearance from which its name is derived. But though this is the most usual color of the species, there are many varieties. Some are almost white, others yellowish red, and others nearly black. The eyes are small in proportion to the size of the animal, but dark and piercing.

The geographical range of the grisly bear is extensive. It is well known that the great chain of the Rocky Mountains commences on the shores of the Arctic Ocean, and runs southwardly through the North American continent. In these mountains the grisly bear is found, from their northern extremity as far as the point where the Rio Grande makes its great bend towards the Gulf of Mexico. In the United States and Canada this animal has never been seen in a wild state. This is not strange. The grisly bear has no affinity with the forest. Previously to the settling of these territories they were all covered with forests. The grisly is never found under heavy timber, like the black bear; and, unlike the latter, he is not

* Armature, a word designating those parts of animals which serve as weapons of attack or defence.

↑ Esculent, eatable.