ling road by angels; and the star, opening, showed him a great world of light, where many more such angels waited to receive them.

All these angels who were waiting turned their beaming eyes upon the people who were carried up into the star; and some came out from the long rows in which they stood, and fell upon the people's necks and kissed them tenderly, and went away with them down avenues of light, and were so happy in their company that, lying in his bed, he wept for joy.

But there were many angels who did not go with them, and among them, one he knew. The patient face that once had lain upon the bed was glorified and radiant, but his heart found out his sister amongst all the host.

His sister's angel lingered near the entrance of the star, and said to the leader among those who had brought the people thither: "Is my brother come?" And he said, "No!"

She was turning sadly away, when the child stretched out his arms and cried, "O,

sister, I am here! Take me!" And then she turned her beaming eyes upon him—and it was night; and the star was shining into the room, making long rays down toward him as he saw it through his tears.

From that hour forth, the child looked out upon the star as the home he was to go to when his time should come; and he thought that he did not belong to the earth alone, but to the star, too, because of his sister's angel gone before.

There was a baby born to be a brother to the child, and while he was so little that he never yet had spoken a word, he stretched out his tiny form on his bed and died.

Again the child dreamed of the open star, and of the company of angels, and the train of people, and the rows of angels with their beaming eyes all turned upon those people's faces.

Said his sister's angel to the leader, "Is my brother come?" And he said, "Not that one, but another!"

As the child beheld his brother's angel in her arms, he cried, "O, my sister, I am here!

Take me!" And she turned and smiled upon him

and the star was shining.

He grew to be a young man, and was busy at his books, when an old servant came to him and said, "Thy mother is no more. I bring her blessing on her darling son."

Again at night he saw the star, and all that former company. Said his sister's angel to the leader, "Is my brother come?"

And he said: "Thy mother."

A mighty cry of joy went forth through all the star, because the mother was re-united to her two children. And he stretched out his arms and cried, "O mother, sister, brother, I am here! Take me!" And they answered him, "Not yet"- and the star was shining.

He grew to be a man whose hair was turning gray, and he was sitting in his chair by the fireside, heavy with grief, and with his face bedewed with tears, when the star opened once again.

Said his sister's angel to the leader, "Is my brother come?"

And he said, "Nay, but his maiden daughter!"

And the man who had been the child saw his daughter, newly lost to him, a celestial creature among those three, and he said, "My daughter's head is on my sister's bosom, and her arm is around my mother's neck, and at her feet is the baby of old time, and I can bear the parting from her, God be praised!"—and the star was shining.

Thus the child came to be an old man, and his once smooth face was wrinkled, and his steps were slow and feeble, and his back was bent. And one night as he lay upon his bed, his children standing round, he cried, as he had cried so long ago, "I see the star!” They whispered one to another, "He is dying." And he said, "I am. My age is falling from me like a garment, and I move toward the star as a child. And, oh! my Father, now I thank Thee that it has so often opened to receive those dear ones who await me!" And the star was shining; and it shines

Tell the story of the star. What kind of man was this? Why? Select the expressions which show you what kind of man he was.

WHERE GO THE BOATS?

Dark brown is the river,

Golden is the sand.

It flows along forever,

With trees on either hand.

Green leaves a-floating,

Castles of the foam,

Boats of mine a-boating

Where will all come home?

On goes the river

And out past the mill,

Away down the valley,

Away down the hill.

Away down the river,

A hundred miles or more,

Other little children

Shall bring my boats ashore.

- From "Child's Garden of Verses," by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.

Have you ever sailed boats? Can you readily imagine this river? Does the poet require many words to suggest a beautiful idea to us? Is each line a complete picture? Describe the river and its course. Tell the story of the boats,