"Fix me the apple on his head :
Ha! rebel, now!

There is a fair mark for thy shaft,
There, try thy boasted archer craft!
With quivering brow

The Switzer gazed his cheek grew pale
His bold lips throbbed, as if would fail
Their laboring breath.

"Ha! so ye blench?" fierce Gesler cried :
"I've conquered, slave, thy soul of pride!"
No word to that stern taunt replied —
All still as death.

II.

"And what the meed?" at length Tell asked.
"Bold fool! when slaves like thee are tasked,
It is MY WILL;

But that thine eye may keener be,
And nerved to such nice archery,
If thou succeed'st, thou goest free.
What! pause ye still?

Give him a bow and arrow there

Deep stillness fell on all around;

Through that dense crowd was heard no sound
Of step or word:

All watched with fixed and shuddering eye
To see that fearful arrow fly;

The light wind died into a sigh,

And scarcely stirred.

V.

Slow rose the shaft; - it trembled — hung.
"My only boy!" gasped on his tongue :
He could not aim!

"Ha!" cried the tyrant, "doth he quail?
He shakes! His haughty brow is pale!"
"Shoot!" cried a low voice; "canst thou fail?
Shoot, in Heaven's name!"

"To smite thee, tyrant, to the heart!
Had Heaven so willed it that my dart
Touched this, my boy!"

Wm. Baine.

LXII. THE UNKNOWN PAINTER.

MU

URILLO, the celebrated artist of Seville, often found upon the canvas of some one of his pupils unfinished sketches bearing the rich impress of genius. They were executed during the night, and he was utterly unable to conjecture the author.

2. One morning the pupils had arrived at the studio before him, and were grouped before an easel, uttering exclamations of great surprise, when Murillo entered. His astonishment was equal to their own, on finding an unfinished head of the Virgin, of exquisite outline, with many touches of surpassing beauty. He appealed first to one and then another of the young gentlemen, to see if they could lay claim to it; but they returned a sorrowful negative. "He who has left this tracery will one day be master of us all."

3. "Sebastian," said he to a youthful slave that stood trembling by," who occupies this studio at night?" 'No one but myself, senior." "Well, take your station here to-night, and if you do not inform me of the mysterious visitant to this room, thirty lashes shall be your reward on the morrow." He bowed in quiet submission, and retired.

4. That night he threw his mattress before the easel, and slept soundly until the clock struck three. He then sprang from his couch and exclaimed, "Three hours are my own, the rest are my master's!" He seized a palette and took his seat at the frame, to erase the work of the preceding night. With brush in hand, he paused before making the oblivious stroke. 'I cannot, O, I cannot erase it!" said he; "rather let me finish it!"

5. He went to work. A little coloring here, a touch there, a soft shade here; and thus three hours rolled unheeded by. A slight noise caused him to look up. Murillo with his pupils stood around; the sunshine was peering brightly through the casement, while yet the unextinguished taper burned.

6. Again he was a slave. His eyes fell beneath their eager gaze. 'Who is your master, Sebastian?" "You, senior." "Your drawing-master, I mean?" "You, senior." "I have never given you lessons." No, but you gave them to these young gentlemen, and I heard them." "Yes, you have done better; you have profited by them. Does this boy deserve punishment or reward, my dear pupils ?” "Reward, senior," was the quick response. What shall

it be?"

66

7. One suggested a suit of clothes; another, a sum of money; but no chord was touched in the captive's bosom. Another said, "The master feels kindly to-day; ask your freedom, Sebastian!" He sank on his knees, and lifted his burning eyes to his master's face: "The freedom of my father!"

8. Murillo folded him to his bosom: "Your pencil shows that you have talent; your request, that you have a heart; you are no longer my slave, but my son. Happy Murillo ! I have not only painted, but made a painter.”

9. There are still to be seen in classic Italy many beautiful specimens from the pencils of Murillo and Sebastian.

EXERCISE.

1. Murillo found unfinished sketches upon the canvas. 2. He was utterly unable to conjecture the author.

3. The pupils had arrived at the studio before him.

4. They were grouped before an easel. [Frame used by painters.] 5. They found a picture of exquisite outline and surpassing beauty. 6. You must inform me of the mysterious visitant to this room.

7. He took his seat at the frame to erase his work.

8. The sunshine was peering brightly through the casement.

LXIII. AN APRIL DAY.

A

I.

LL day the low-hung clouds have dropped
Their garnered fulness down;

All day that soft gray mist hath wrapped
Hill, valley, grove, and town.

II.

There has not been a sound to-day
To break the calm of nature,
Nor motion, I might almost say,
Of life, or living creature ;

III.

Of waving bough, or warbling bird,
Or cattle faintly lowing;

I could have half believed I heard
The leaves and blossoms growing.

IV.

I stood to hear - I love it well,

The rain's continuous sound:
Small drops, but thick and fast they fell,
Down straight into the ground.

V.

For leafy thickness is not yet

Earth's naked breast to screen,

Though every dripping branch is set

With shoots of tender green.

VI.

Sure, since I looked at early morn,

Those honeysuckle buds

Have swelled to double growth; that thorn
Hath put forth larger studs.