to shoes and boots, one to hats, one to mens' clothing, one to articles for women.

7. It is curious to look at some of the collections. In one stall you will see, hung all around against the wall, thousands of rusty, bent, broken nails, hammers, locks, keys, pincers, jack-knives, and chisels.

8. In the center you will see a man at work, like a spider in his web, putting them in repair. At another place you will see collections of the soles and heels of old shoes, heaped up as high as your head.

9. A visitor will go from point to point in a constant state of wonder. Sometimes he cannot help laughing outright at the odd assemblages of articles. He will be all the time beset by the people begging him to buy something.

10. At every turn and corner he will hear, "What will you have? what will you have?" He may buy a thimble which looks like gold for six cents, or a spy-glass which appears as good as new for half a dollar.

11. The prices of the articles here are indeed very low, and many persons in Paris who have but little money buy most of their goods here. The Temple Market is, in fact, the great market of poverty in Paris.

12. It collects the waste of the city and makes it useful to those of humble means. It gives occupation and subsistence to ten thousand people, and contributes to the comfort of fifty thousand. It is not only a very curious, but a most useful institution.

LESSON CLXXVII.

VOCAL GYMNASTICS.

REFER TO CAUTION 26.- The following exercise is a continuation of the lesson on page 251. It contains words that are often improperly accented.

(1.) His opponent was a plebeian fanatic, who wished to promulgate his ideas in the Crimea. (2.) A Bedouin was speaking Arabic on the pedestal. (3.) The exquisite beauty of the oasis had the requisite influence upon the sojourners. (4.) There is no need of vehement exorcism to remove the incubus. (5.) The deficit gave a mischievous impetus to mercantile industry. (6.) This admirable aeronaut met with a lamentable fate. (7.) This corollary is vehemently disputed. (8.) Be not so peremptory. (9.) This is not revocable. (10.) The allopathic physician thinks the hydropathic practice would not be advantageous. (11.) He met his coadjutor at the Colosseum. (12.) Aristides and Archimedes were both Europeans. (13.) The hymeneal rites had scarcely been performed when he built the mausoleum. (14.) The lithographer has an advertisement in the newspaper.

LESSON CLXXVIII.

BRAKE, a thicket.

DROWSE, to slumber.

GUISE, dress, garment.

GRATEFUL, agreeable, pleasant.
MUNCH, to chew by great mouthfuls.
SLINK, to glide away stealthily.

PRONUNCIATION.-Wea'ry (wee'ry), a-cross' lf, granʼa-ry 3a, and 29, a 31, the 31, chil'dren 11, corn 9.

THE OLD MILL.

1. LIVE and die! live and die!

And all the weary, weary years go by,
And the clattering mill stands still;
The sun-mixed shade, like a spotted snake,
Lies half hid in the deep-green brake,
And half across the rill.

2. The summer comes, and the winter comes,
And the flower blooms, and the busy bee hums,
And the old mill stands in the sun;
The mosses hang from the walls aloof,
And the rusty nails from the ragged roof
Drop daily, one by one.

3. The long grass grows in the shady pool,
Where the cattle used to come and cool,
And the rotting wheel stands still;
The gray owl winks in the granary-loft,
And the sly rat slinks, with a pit-pat soft,
From the hopper of the old, old mill.

4. The mill-wheel clicked, and the mill-wheel clacked,
And the groaning boams once creaked and cracked,
And the children came and played;
The lazy team, in the days of yore,
Munched their fodder at the old mill-door,
Or drowsed in the grateful shade.

5. But the good-wife died, and the miller died;
And the children are scattered far and wide
From the play-ground by the dam;
Their marble-ring is grass-o'ergrown
As the mossy foot of the rude grave-stone
Where the old folks sleep so calm.

6. But the miller's son, in the city thick,
Dreams that he hears the old mill click,
And sees the wheel go round;

And the miller's daughter, through her half-shut eyes,
Sees her father in his dusty guise,

And the place where the corn was ground.

W. W. HARNEY.

LESSON CLXXIX.

ARROW Y, swift as an arrow.

DRIFT, to be driven into heaps.
PROW ́ESS, bravery, valor.

SMOULDER, to burn and smoke without flame or vent.

TRESS, a knot or curl of hair, a ringlet.

PRONUNCIATION.-Tem'pest 1b, and 29, shrunk 23, warm 9, rob ́in lc.

WINTER AND SPRING.

1. THE following Indian legend beautifully personifies winter and spring, the old age and the youth of the year. Mr. Longfellow, in his charming versification of it, has clothed the story with additional beauty.

2. An old man was sitting alone in his lodge by the side of a frozen stream. It was the close of winter, and his fire was almost out. He appeared very old and very desolate. His locks were white with age, and he trembled in every joint.

3. Day after day passed in solitude, and he heard nothing but the sound of the tempest sweeping before it the new-fallen snow.

4. One day, as his fire was just dying, a handsome young man approached, and entered his dwelling. His cheeks were red with the blood of youth; his eyes sparkled with life, and a smile played upon his lips.

5. He walked with a light and quick step. His forehead was bound with a wreath of sweet grass in place of the warrior's frontlet, and he carried a bunch of flowers in his hand.

6. "Ah! my son," said the old man, "I am happy to see you. Come in, and tell me of your adventures, and what strange lands you have been to see. Let us pass the night together. I will tell you of my prowess and exploits, and what I can perform. You shall do the same, and we will amuse ourselves."

7. He then drew from his sack a curiously wrought antique pipe, and having filled it with tobacco rendered mild by an admixture of certain dry leaves, he handed it to his guest. When this ceremony had been attended to they began to speak.

8. "I blow my breath," said the old man, "and the streams stand still. The water becomes stiff and hard as clear stone."

9. "I breathe," said the young man, "and flowers spring up all over the plains."

10. "I shake my locks," resumed the old man, "and snow covers the land. Leaves fall from the trees at my command, and my breath blows them away. The birds rise from the water and fly to a distant land. The animals hide themselves from the glance of my eye, and the very ground where I walk becomes as hard as flint."

11. "I shake my ringlets," continued the young man, “and warm

showers of soft rain fall upon the earth. The plants lift up their heads out of the ground, like the eyes of children glistening with delight. My voice recalls the birds. The warmth of my breath unlocks the streams. Music fills the groves wherever I walk, and all nature welcomes my approach."

12. At length the sun began to rise. A gentle warmth came over the place. The tongue of the old man became silent. The robin and the blue-bird began to sing on the top of the lodge. The stream began to murmur by the door, and the fragrance of growing herbs and flowers came softly on the vernal breeze.

13. Daylight fully revealed to the young man the character of his entertainer. It was the icy old Spirit of Winter.

14. Streams began to flow from the eyes of the Winter Spirit. As the sun increased he grew less and less in stature, and presently he had melted completely away. Nothing remained on the place of his lodge-fire but a small white flower with a pink border, the spring-beauty, which the young visitor, the Spirit of Spring, placed in the wreath upon his brow, as his first trophy in the north.

LESSON CLXXX.

ANTIQUE (an-teek'), of old fashion. FRONT LET, a band worn on the forehead.

LODGE, a small house, a hut.

MIS-KO-DEED', Indian name for the
spring-beauty.

RE SUME', to begin again.
VER'NAL, belonging to the spring.

PRONUNCIATION. Frozen 4d, ap peared' 22, heard 33, ad-ven'tures 17 and 18, ex-ploit 26a, glis'ten-ing 21, fore ́head 33.

THE LEGEND OF WINTER AND SPRING VERSIFIED.

1. In his lodge beside a river,

Close beside a frozen river,

Sat an old man, sad and lonely.

2. White his hair was as a snow-drift;
Dull and low his fire was burning;
And the old man shook and trembled,
Folded in his tattered wrapper,
Hearing nothing but the tempest
As it roared along the forest,
Seeing nothing but the snow-storm,
As it whirled and hissed and drifted.

3. All the coals were white with ashes,
And the fire was slowly dying,
As a young man walking lightly
At the open doorway entered.

4. Red with blood of youth his cheeks were;
Soft his eyes as stars in spring-time;
Bound his forehead was with grasses,
Bound and plumed with scented grasses;
On his lip a smile of beauty,
Filling all the lodge with sunshine;
In his hand a bunch of blossoms,
Filling all the lodge with sweetness.

5. "Ah, my son!" exclaimed the old man,
"Happy are my eyes to see you,
Sit here on the mat beside me,
Sit here by the dying embers,
Let us pass the night together.
Tell me of your strange adventures,
Of the lands where you have traveled ;
I will tell you of my prowess,

Of my many deeds of wonder."

6. From his pouch he drew his peace-pipe,
Very old and strangely fashioned;
Made of red stone was the pipe-head,
And the stem a reed with feathers;
Filled the pipe with bark of willow,
Placed a burning coal upon it,
Gave it to his guest, the stranger,
And began to speak in this wise:

7. "When I blow my breath about me,
When I breathe upon the landscape,
Motionless are all the rivers,

Hard as stone becomes the water!"

8. And the young man answered, smiling: "When I blow my breath about me, When I breathe upon the landscape, Flowers spring up o'er the meadows, Singing onward rush the rivers."

9. "When I shake my hoary tresses,"

Said the old man, darkly frowning,
"All the land with snow is covered;
All the leaves from all the branches
Fall and fade, and die and wither;
For I breathe, and lo! they are not.
From the waters and the marshes
Rise the wild-goose and the heron,
Fly away to distant regions;
For I speak, and lo! they are not;
And where'er my footsteps wander
All the wild beasts of the forest