his way rejoicing and with larger knowledge. For we know all that on the plain of Troy Argives and Trojans suffered at the gods' behest; we know whatever happens on the bounteous earth.'

5 "So spoke they, sending forth their glorious song, and my heart longed to listen. Knitting my brows, I signed my men to set me free; but bending forward, on they rowed. And straightway Perimedes and Eurylochus arose and laid upon me still more cords and drew them tighter. 10 Then, after passing by, when we could hear no more the

Sirens' voice nor any singing, quickly my trusty crew removed the wax with which I stopped their ears, and set me free from bondage."

Circe (ser'sé), the heavenly goddess: Circe was an enchantress, from whose devices Odysseus himself had hardly escaped. She consented, however, at his urgent prayer, to speed him on his way. oracles: wise sayings, difficult to understand. the Sirens: three sea-nymphs whose home was on a small island near Sicily. They enticed sailors ashore by their singing, and then killed them. - Achæans (ä ke'ans): the Greeks. — Argives (är'jīvs): the most powerful of the Greek tribes; hence, a name often used for the Greeks in general. - Perimedes (pěr 1 mē'dez) and Eurylochus (u ril ́o kŭs) : two of Odysseus' companions.

THE FLAG

DENIS A. MCCARTHY

DENIS A. MCCARTHY is a poet of Irish birth who is a loyal and patriotic American.

NOTE. The following are the closing stanzas of a poem which kindles devotion to high ideals of citizenship.

Symbol of hope to me and to mine and to all who aspire

to be free,

Ever your golden stars may shine from the east to the

western sea;

Ever your golden stars may shine, and ever your stripes may gleam,

To lead us on from the deeds we do to the greater deeds that we dream.

Here is our love to you, flag of the free, and flag of the tried and true;

Here is our love to your streaming stripes and your stars in a field of blue;

Native or foreign, we're children all of the land over

And, native or foreign, we love the land for which it were

sweet to die.

5

10

A JAPANESE VILLAGE

ISABELLA L. BIRD

Mrs. ISABELLA L. BIRD BISHOP was an English writer and philanthropist who spent much time in foreign countries and published several entertaining volumes of travel. The following pages are from a collection of her letters written in Japan. Mrs. Bishop died in 1904 at the age 5 of seventy-two.

The village consists of about three hundred houses built along three roads. Down the middle of each road runs a rapid stream in a stone channel, and this gives endless

amusement to the children, especially to the boys, who 10 devise many ingenious models and mechanical toys, which are put in motion by water wheels.

My home is a Japanese idyl; there is nothing within or without that does not please the eye, and its silence, musical with the dash of water and the twitter of birds,

is refreshing. It is a simple but irregular two-storied pavilion, standing on a stone-faced terrace, approached by a flight of stone steps. The garden is well laid out, and as peonies and azaleas are now in bloom, it is very bright. The gray village lies on the other side of the 5 road, and beyond it are high, unbroken hills.

The mistress of the house met me at the door and divested me of my boots. The two verandas are highly polished, so are the stairs which lead to my room, and the mats are so fine and white that I almost fear to walk 10 on them, even in my stockings. The whole front of my house is composed of sliding windows with panes of translucent paper instead of glass. The ceiling is of light wood crossed by bars of dark wood. The panels are of wrinkled sky-blue paper splashed with gold. At one end are two 15 alcoves with floors of polished wood. In one hangs a painting on white silk of a blossoming branch of a cherry -a perfect piece of art which fills the room with freshness and beauty. A spray of azalea in a pure white vase and a single iris in another are the only decorations. The 20 mats are very fine and white; the sole piece of furniture is a folding screen. I almost wish that the rooms were a little less exquisite, for I am in constant dread of spilling the ink or tearing the paper windows.

Supper came up on a zen, or small table, six inches high, 25 of old gold lacquer, with the rice in a lacquer bowl, and a teapot and cup of fine porcelain. The Japanese are great

tea epicures, and the best tea, drunk by those who can afford it, costs thirteen shillings a pound. The water used for tea making is not allowed to boil and must rest barely a minute on the leaves.

5 The people here rise at daylight, fold up the wadded quilts on and under which they have slept, and put them away with the wooden pillows (much like stereoscopes in shape, with rolls of paper or wadding on the top), sweep the mats carefully, dust all the woodwork and the veran10 das, open the sliding wooden shutters which box in the whole house at night, and throw back the paper windows.

At seven in the morning a drum beats to summon the children to school. The school apparatus is very good, and there are fine maps on the walls; but the children looked 15 very uncomfortable sitting on high benches in front of desks instead of squatting, native fashion. The teacher made very free use of the blackboard and questioned his pupils with much rapidity. The best answer moved its giver to the head of the class as with us. Obedience is 20 the foundation of the Japanese social order, and the teacher has no trouble in securing quietness, attention, and docility. There was an almost painful earnestness in the faces which pored over the schoolbooks; even such a rare event as the entrance of a foreigner failed to distract 25 the students.

I am very fond of Japanese children. I have never yet heard a baby cry and I have never seen a child troublesome