And, departing, leave behind us Longfellow. THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS. There is a Reaper whose name is Death, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that flow between. 'Shall I have nought that is fair?' said he, 'Have nought but the bearded grain? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again.' He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves. My Lord has need of these flowerets gay,' They shall all bloom in fields of light, And saints upon their garments white And the mother gave, in tears and pain, She knew she would find them all again Oh, not in cruelty, not in pain, 'T was an angel visited the green earth, (1) 14 loads to pints. REDUCTION. 17 chaldrons to sacks. (5) 5 quarters to bushels. (6) 17 qrs. to gals. (7) 16lds. 4 qrs. 7 bus. 3 pks.to qts. (8) 19 ch. 11 sks. 2 bus. to bus. (9) 4 qrs. 2 pks. to pints. Longfellow. (16) 17 pipes of wine to pts. (10) 171ds. 3 qrs. 4 bus. 2 pks. to pts. (25) 4 yrs. to minutes. (11) 18 ch. 9 sks. 3 bush. to qts. (12) 3 qrs. 3 pks. to qts. (13) 19 hgd. beer. to pints. (14) 47 barrels to qts. (15) 42 hgd. of beer to qts. THE (26) 5 yrs. to seconds. CAPTIVE LION. in-cli-na'-tion, wish in-ev'-it-a-bly, unavoidably con-sign', to transfer in-dif'-fer-ence, carelessness a'-gi-tate, to put in motion con-trol', to check, to govern ter-ri-fi-ed, frightened mon'-sieur, the French word for civ-il-i-sa'-tion, a state opposed to barbarism At'-las, a range of mountains on the north-west of Africa ag-o-ny, severe pain pul-mon-ar-y, affecting the lungs Jules Gérard, the famous lion-hunter, tells the following sad story of a lion brought up in captivity through his means:— He one day succeeded in capturing two cubs, a male and a female, which he took back with him to the village in which he was then residing. To the male he gave the name of Hubert. Hubert became a mighty favourite in the village, more particularly amongst the women. Not so his sister, for, while the young lion was perfectly quiet and friendly, the female attacked everybody with her claws, if they attempted to caress her. A goat was procured, and, much against her inclination, forced to suckle them-at least, to suckle Hubert, for the young lioness would not come near her nurse. Hubert, however, got on capitally with her, and grew so fast that, very soon, several she-goats had to be milked daily to feed the young glutton. As for his sister, she died-as many other promising young lionesses yearly die--in cutting her teeth! Gérard took Hubert with him to the camp, when he became as great a favourite with the soldiers as he had formerly been with the Arabs. He was entered as an officer in the regiment, and a special book was kept for recording his achievements, and the promotion attendant upon them. When, however, these achievements became so frequent--Hubert having broken loose continually, and killed the goat his nurse, not to mention sundry sheep, horses, and other animals, and having nearly killed an Arab and two soldiers-he was condemned to perpetual imprisonment, and Gérard was ordered to shut him up in a cage. Poor Hubert!' he exclaims; and it was I, his best friend, that was charged with this painful duty.' My first thought was to restore him to liberty; but I feared that, accustomed as he was to the society of man, he would return to the camp, or the neighbourhood, and be killed. At first, to render his captivity easy, I used to come at night to his cage, which I would open; at once he would spring joyously out, embrace me most affectionately, and then we would have a game of bo-peep together. One evening, in one of his moments of good humour, he embraced me so warmly, that he would inevitably have choked me, but for the arrival of assistance. It was the last time we played that game together. And yet I must do him the justice to say that he had no evil intention, seeing that in our gambols he always avoided making use of his claws or teeth, either with me or with other persons whom he was in the habit of seeing, with all of whom he was always gentle and affectionate in the ex treme.' Hubert soon got sad and melancholy in his confinement, and ultimately was consigned to the gardens in Paris where the wild animals are kept. Some time afterwards Gérard visited the gardens, and walking along, saddened at the thoughts of how the nature of wild animals had been debased by the confinement and bad air, he passed towards Hubert's den; he saw him lying down, half asleep, looking with the most supreme indifference at the passers-by. All at once Hubert raised his head; his eyes opened; a nervous movement was visible in the muscles of his neck; the end of his tail was rapidly agitated: he had seen the uniform, but had not yet recognised his old master. However, with a look of anxiety, he examined Gérard from head to foot, as though endeavouring to recall some by-gone memories. I approached,' Gérard says, and, no longer able to control myself, I stretched out my hand between the bars of his den. Oh, it was a moment truly affecting both for me and for all present! Without ceasing to devour me with his eyes, he applied his nose to my hand, and commenced to breathe hard. At each breath he seemed to brighten up. Beneath the uniform, which he had recognised at once, he began to recognise his friend.. I knew a single word would suffice to remove every doubt. "Hubert!" I cried, caressing him; "what, my old soldier!" It was enough. Poor Hubert sprang against the bars of his cage, which quivered with the shock; while the friends who had accompanied Gérard started back terrified. Then the poor beast commenced licking his old master's hand, growling terribly if any one else approached, and seeming delighted when left alone with his friend.' Day after day Gérard visited the lion's den; and every time he left, Hubert shook the building with his terrible roarings at the separation. Soon, however, Gérard noticed that he was getting melancholy and thin. He consulted the keepers, and they told him that, in their opinion, the excitement of his visits was the cause of poor Hubert's falling off. The next time he presented himself at the menagerie, the keeper met him, and bowing sadly, said, Monsieur, do not come again. Hubert is dead.' Thus,' Gérard adds, died Hubert, whom I had taken away from his mother, from the pure air of the mountain, from liberty. A child of nature, he would be living still; civilisation killed him. 'But henceforth ye may increase and multiply in peace, proud Sultans of the Atlas. Never more will I rob you of your children. Death, which strikes you like the thunder in the open forest, beneath the star-decked vault of heaven, is better than a slow agony in a space of a few square yards; and the iron bullet of the hunter is a hundred times more merciful than the pulmonary disease of a prison! |
