'Twas a long way up to the ceiling dome, and it hung by a rope so fine,

That how it would get to its cobweb home, King Bruce could not divine.

It soon began to cling and crawl straight up with strong endeavour,

But down it came with a slipping sprawl, as near to the ground as ever.

Up, up it ran, not a second it stayed, to utter the least complaint,

Till it fell still lower, and there it lay, a little giddy and faint.

Its head grew steady-again it went, and travelled a half yard higher,

'Twas a delicate thread it had to tread, and a road where its feet would tire.

Again it fell and swung below, but again it quickly mounted,

Till up and down, now fast, now slow, nine brave attempts were counted.

'Sure,' cried the king, that foolish thing will strive no more to climb,

When it toils so hard to reach and cling, and tumbles every time.'

But

up the insect went once more. Ah me! 't is an

anxious minute,

He's only a foot from his cobweb door, oh say, will he lose or win it?

Steadily, steadily, inch by inch, higher and higher he got,

Till a bold little run, at the very last pinch, put him into his native spot.

'Bravo! bravo!' the king cried out, all honour to those who try!

The spider up there defied despair; he conquered, and why should n't I?'

And Bruce of Scotland braced his mind, and gossips tell the tale,

That he tried once more, as he tried before; and that time did not fail.

Pay goodly heed, all you who read, and beware of saying I can't,'

6

'Tis a cowardly word, and apt to lead to idleness, folly, and want.

Whenever you find your heart despair of doing some goodly thing

Con over this strain, try bravely again, and remember the Spider and King.—Eliza Cook.

en-count'-er (n.), a meeting in swamp'-y, wet, marshy

battle

tal'-is-man, a charm

en-vel'-op, to cover entirely

ev-i-dent, easily seen

ter-rif'-ic, causing terror

pan'-ic, sudden fear

im-pede', to hinder
ap-proach' (v.), to come near
re-peat'-ed-ly, over and over again
re-sume', to take up again
im-prac'-ti-ca-ble, that cannot be
done

ex-haust'-ed, tired out
fe-ro'-cious, very fierce
in'-tel-lect, the mind
suf-fice', to be enough
tur'-ban, a sort of head-dress

Amongst the Singhalese there exists a belief that certain charms are efficacious in protecting them from the violence of bears, and those accustomed to expose themselves to encounters, carry a talisman, either attached to their neck, or enveloped in the folds of their hair. The following anecdote, related by an eminent writer as told him by a sporting friend, shows how an unfortunate Moorman nearly lost his life through placing implicit faith in his charm.

'Desiring to change the position of a herd of deer, he (the Moorman), with his charm, was sent across some swampy land to disturb them. As he was proceeding, we saw him suddenly turn from an old tree, and run back with all speed, his hair becoming unfastened, and, like his clothes, streaming in the wind. It soon became evident that he was flying from some terrific object, for he had thrown down his gun, and in his panic he was taking the shortest line towards us, which lay across a swamp covered with sedge and rushes that greatly impeded his progress, and prevented our approaching him, or seeing what was the cause of his flight. Missing his steps from one hard spot to another, he repeatedly fell into the water, but rose and resumed his flight. I advanced as far as the sods would bear my weight, but to go farther was impracticable. Just within ball-range there was an open space, and as the man gained it, I saw that he was pursued by a bear and two cubs. As the person of the fugitive covered the bear, it was impossible to fire without risk. At last he fell exhausted, and the bear being close upon

him, I discharged both barrels. The first broke the bear's shoulder, but this only made her the more savage, and, rising on her hind legs, she advanced with ferocious grunts; the second barrel, though I do not think it took effect, served to frighten her, for, turning round, she retreated at full speed, followed by the cubs. Some natives then waded through the mud to the Moorman, who was just exhausted, and would have been drowned, but that he fell with his head on a tuft of grass; the poor man was unable to speak, and for several weeks his intellect seemed confused. The adventure sufficed to satisfy him that he could not again depend upon a charm to protect him from bears, though he always insisted that, but for its having fallen from his hair, where he had fastened it under his turban, the bear would never have ventured to attack him.'

THE FAIRIES OF THE CALDON-LOW.

(A Midsummer Legend.)

Cal'-don-Low', the name of a hill | dank, damp, moist

blithe, light-hearted, merry
speed'-i-ly, quickly

mill-dam, a bank to confine water
for the use of a mill
mil'-dew, a disease in plants

lint'-seed or lin'-seed, the seed of
flax

croft, a small field near a house
brown'-ie, a sort of fairy
le'-gend, a kind of fable

And where have you been, my Mary,
And where have you been from me?'
'I've been to the top of the Caldon-Low,
The Midsummer night to see.'

• And what did you see, my Mary,
All up on the Caldon-Low?"
I saw the blithe sunshine come down,
And I saw the merry winds blow.'

And what did you hear, my Mary,
All up on the Caldon Hill?'
I heard the drops of the water made,
The green corn ears to fill.'

• Oh, tell me all, my Mary

All, all that ever you know;
For you must have seen the fairies,
Last night, on the Caldon-Low.'

Then take me on your knee, mother,
And listen, mother of mine:
A hundred fairies danced last night,
And the harpers they were nine.

And merry was the glee of the harp-strings,
And their dancing feet so small;

But oh, the sound of their talking
Was merrier far than all.'