McGuffey's Fifth Eclectic Reader Part 21

DEFINITIONS.--1. Gar'nered, laid up, treasured. 6. Studs, k.n.o.bs, buds. 7.

Cleav'ing, dividing. 10. Dim'ples, small depressions. Am'ber, the color of amber, yellow.

x.x.xVII. THE TEA ROSE.

1. There it stood, in its little green vase, on a light ebony stand in the window of the drawing-room. The rich satin curtains, with their costly fringes, swept down on either side of it, and around it glittered every rare and fanciful trifle which wealth can offer to luxury, and yet that simple rose was the fairest of them all. So pure it looked, its white leaves just touched with that delicious, creamy tint peculiar to its kind: its cup so full, so perfect its head bending, as if it were sinking and melting away in its own richness.--Oh! when did ever man make anything to equal the living, perfect flower!

2. But the sunlight that streamed through the window revealed something fairer than the rose--a young lady reclining on an ottoman, who was thus addressed by her livelier cousin: "I say, cousin, I have been thinking what you are to do with your pet rose when you go to New York; as, to our consternation, you are determined to do. You know it would be a sad pity to leave it with such a scatter-brain as I am. I love flowers, indeed,--that is, I like a regular bouquet, cut off and tied up, to carry to a party; but as to all this tending and fussing which is needful to keep them growing, I have no gifts in that line."

3. "Make yourself easy as to that, Kate," said Florence, with a smile; "I have no intention of calling upon your talent; I have an asylum in view for my favorite."

4. "Oh, then you know just what I was going to say. Mrs. Marshall, I presume, has been speaking to you; she was here yesterday, and I was quite pathetic upon the subject; telling her the loss your favorite would sustain, and so forth; and she said how delighted she would be to have it in her greenhouse; it is in such a fine state now, so full of buds. I told her I knew you would like to give it to her; you are so fond of Mrs.

Marshall, you know."

5. "Now, Kate, I am sorry, but I have otherwise engaged."

"Whom can it be to? you have so few intimates here."

"Oh, it is only one of my odd fancies."

"But do tell me, Florence."

"Well, cousin, you know the little pale girl to whom we give sewing?"

6. "What! little Mary Stephens? How absurd, Florence! This is just another of your motherly, old-maidish ways; dressing dolls for poor children, making bonnets, and knitting socks for all the little dirty babies in the neighborhood. I do believe you have made more calls in those two vile, ill-smelling alleys behind our house than ever you have in Chestnut Street, though you know everybody is half dying to see you; and now, to crown all, you must give this choice little bijou to a seamstress girl, when one of your most intimate friends, in your own cla.s.s, would value it so highly. What in the world can people in their circ.u.mstances want with flowers?"

7. "Just the same as I do," replied Florence, calmly. "Have you not noticed that the little girl never comes without looking wistfully at the opening buds? And don't you remember, the other morning she asked me so prettily if I would let her mother come and see it, she was so fond of flowers?"

8. "But, Florence, only think of this rare flower standing on a table with ham, eggs, cheese, and flour, and stifled in that close little room, where Mrs. Stephens and her daughter manage to wash, iron, and cook."

9. "Well, Kate, and if I were obliged to live in one coa.r.s.e room, and wash, and iron, and cook, as you say; if I had to spend every moment of my time in toil, with no prospect from my window but a brick wall and a dirty lane, such a flower as this would be untold enjoyment to me."

10. "Pshaw, Florence; all sentiment! Poor people have no time to be sentimental. Besides, I don't believe it will grow with them; it is a greenhouse flower, and used to delicate living."

11. "Oh, as to that, a flower never inquires whether its owner is rich or poor; and poor Mrs. Stephens, whatever else she has not, has suns.h.i.+ne of as good quality as this that streams through our window. The beautiful things that G.o.d makes are his gifts to all alike. You will see that my fair rose will be as well and cheerful in Mrs. Stephens's room as in ours."

12. "Well, after all, how odd! When one gives to poor people, one wants to give them something useful--a bushel of potatoes, a ham, and such things."

13. "Why, certainly, potatoes and ham must be supplied; but, having ministered to the first and most craving wants, why not add any other little pleasures or gratifications we may have it in our power to bestow?

I know there are many of the poor who have fine feeling and a keen sense of the beautiful, which rusts out and dies because they are too hard pressed to procure it any gratification. Poor Mrs. Stephens, for example; I know she would enjoy birds, and flowers, and music as much as I do. I have seen her eye light up as she looked upon these things in our drawing.

room, and yet not one beautiful thing can she command. From necessity, her room, her clothing,--all she has, must be coa.r.s.e and plain. You should have seen the almost rapture she and Mary felt when I offered them my rose."

14. "Dear me! all this may be true, but I never thought of it before. I never thought that these hard-working people had any ideas of taste!"

15. "Then why do you see the geranium or rose so carefully nursed in the old cracked teapot in the poorest room, or the morning-glory planted in a box and twined about the window? Do not these show that the human heart yearns for the beautiful in all ranks of life? You remember, Kate, how our washerwoman sat up a whole night, after a hard day's work, to make her first baby a pretty dress to be baptized in." "Yes, and I remember how I laughed at you for making such a tasteful little cap for it."

16. "True, Kate, but I think the look of perfect delight with which the poor woman regarded her baby in its new dress and cap was something quite worth creating; I do believe she could not have felt more grateful if 1 had sent her a barrel of flour."

17. "Well, I never thought before of giving anything to the poor but what they really needed, and I have always been willing to do that when I could without going far out of my way."

18. "Ah! cousin, if our heavenly Father gave to us after this mode, we should have only coa.r.s.e, shapeless piles of provisions lying about the world, instead of all this beautiful variety of trees, and fruits, and flowers,"

19. "Well, well, cousin, I suppose you are right, but have mercy on my poor head; it is too small to hold so many new ideas all at once, so go on your own way;" and the little lady began practicing a waltzing step before the gla.s.s with great satisfaction.

DEFINITIONS.--2. Ot'to-man, a stuffed seat without a back. 3. A-sy'lum, a place of refuge and protection. 4. Pa-thet'ic, moving to pity or grief. 6.

Bi-jou' (pro. be-zhoo'), a jewel. Cir'c.u.m-stanc-es, condition in regard to worldly property. 10. Sen-ti-ment'al, showing an excess of sentiment or feeling. 13. Com-mand', to claim. Rap'-ture, extreme joy or pleasure, ecstasy. 14. Taste, the faculty of discerning beauty or whatever forms excellence. 15. Yearns, longs, is eager.

x.x.xVIII. THE CATARACT OF LODORE.

1. "How does the water Come down at Lodore?"

My little boy asked me Thus once on a time; And, moreover, he tasked me To tell him in rhyme.

2. Anon at the word, There first came one daughter, And then came another, To second and third The request of their brother, And to hear how the water Comes down at Lodore, With its rush and its roar, As many a time They had seen it before.

3. So I told them in rhyme, For of rhymes I had store, And 't was in my vocation For their recreation That so I should sing; Because I was Laureate To them and the King.

4. From its sources which well In the tarn on the fell; From its fountains In the mountains, Its rills and its gills; Through moss and through brake, It runs and it creeps For a while, till it sleeps In its own little lake.

5. And thence at departing, Awakening and starting, It runs through the reeds, And away it proceeds, Through meadow and glade, In sun and in shade, And through the wood shelter, Among crags in its flurry, Helter-skelter, Hurry-skurry.

6. Here it comes sparkling, And there it lies darkling; Now smoking and frothing Its tumult and wrath in, Till, in this rapid race On which it is bent, It reaches the place Of its steep descent.

7. The cataract strong Then plunges along, Striking and raging As if a war waging Its caverns and rocks among;

8. Rising and leaping, Sinking and creeping, Swelling and sweeping, Showering and springing, Flying and flinging, Writhing and ringing, Eddying and whisking, Spouting and frisking, Turning and twisting, Around and around With endless rebound; Smiting and fighting, A sight to delight in; Confounding, astounding, Dizzying, and deafening the ear with its sound

9. Collecting, projecting, Receding and speeding, And shocking and rocking, And darting and parting, And threading and spreading, And whizzing and hissing, And dripping and skipping, And hitting and splitting, And s.h.i.+ning and twining, And rattling and battling, And shaking and quaking, And pouring and roaring, And waving and raving, And tossing and crossing, And guggling and struggling, And heaving and cleaving, And moaning and groaning, And glittering and frittering, And gathering and feathering, And whitening and brightening, And quivering and s.h.i.+vering, And hurrying and skurrying, And thundering and floundering;

10. Dividing and gliding and sliding, And falling and brawling and sprawling, And driving and riving and striving, And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling;

11. And thumping and plumping and b.u.mping and jumping, And das.h.i.+ng and flas.h.i.+ng and splas.h.i.+ng and clas.h.i.+ng; And so never ending, but always descending, Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending, All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar, And this way the water comes down at Lodore.

--Abridged from Southey.

DEFINITIONS.--4. Tarn, a small lake among the mountains. Fell (provincial English), a stony hill. Gills (provincial English), brooks. 10. Brawl'ing, roaring. Riv'ing, splitting.

NOTES.--1. Lodore is a cascade on the banks of Lake Derwent.w.a.ter, in c.u.mberland, England, near where Southey lived.

3. Laureate. The term probably arose from a custom in the English universities of presenting a laurel wreath to graduates in rhetoric and versification. In England the poet laureate's office is filled by appointment of the lord chamberlain. The salary is quite small, and the office is valued chiefly as one of honor.

This lesson is peculiarly adapted for practice on the difficult sound "ing".