And cowslips, dipping their cool feet, In little rills Gushing from the mossy hills? I am weary of this weather. – ELIZA ALLEN STARR, in "Songs of a Life-time." WEALTH. How we all long for it! How much hard work, how much of happiness and affection and comfort we often sacrifice for it! We brought none of it into this world. We can surely take none of it out. The saying of John Wesley, "Make all you can, save all you can, give all you can," shows the spirit of the use of wealth and not the abuse of it. He who saves something of each earning will surely arrive at some degree of wealth. The slave to wealth has little enjoyment in the world except in his eager chase after the dollar. He who makes wealth his servant derives from it all the comfort and happiness which the bountiful provisions of our Maker have made possible in a world so full of good things. Perhaps the most curious thing about wealth is that he who possesses it is never satisfied, but is ever seeking more; and he who has little wealth looks up to the man who has more with eyes of envy. Even the millionaire desires more millions. But the temperate pursuer of happiness will be satisfied with whatever degree of wealth industry may yield. The poorest man who has taken good care of his body has a wealth of beautiful sights, a harmony of sweet sounds, the pleasure of agreeable odors and unnumbered delights, though he may not have a dollar. A poor girl, nestling close to her mother in a miserable hovel, with scarcely enough bed clothes to cover them, drew some boards over them for warmth and said to her mother: "Mother, I am so thankful we have boards to help keep us warm. What do you suppose the poor chil dren do who have no warm?" boards to keep them million âire' (yun âr') hŏv' el · här' mo ny THE GLADNESS OF NATURE. Is this a time to be cloudy and sad, When our mother, Nature, laughs aroundWhen even the deep blue heavens look glad, And gladness breathes from the blossom ing ground? There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren, And the gossip of swallows through all the sky; The ground-squirrel gaily chirps by his den, And the wilding bee hums merrily by. The clouds are at play in the azure space, And their shadows at play in the bright green vale, And here they stretch to the frolic chase, And there they roll on the easy gale. There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower, There's a twitter of winds in that beechen tree, There's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower, And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea. -WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. How does "Mother Nature" laugh around? Name the different objects the poet says are glad. Can leaves dance? ǎz' ure (ǎzh) ǎsp'en beech' en FRANCES WILLARD. Near the city of Rochester, New York, September 29, 1839, was born a baby girl who was to become a great and noble woman. Her parents thought at first to name her for Queen Victoria, but finally decided upon Frances, little thinking that the name would become a watchword to American womanhood. While she was very young, the family moved to Wisconsin and settled on a farm near Janesville. Here Frances learned to love the woods and fields, the birds and animals, and the freedom and purity of farm life. As a child Frances was very plain looking, but she never allowed that to trouble her or to destroy the sweetness of her temper. Her mother used to say: "The mind hath features as the body hath." Acting upon her mother's advice, Frances took as her living motto: "Oh make me beautiful within, And may mine eyes the good behold Beauty and purity ruled her whole life and the nobility of her thoughts printed itself upon her face. Frances had a brother who was a great companion to her. They were very much attached to each other and he always shared his sports with her. One day when a girl from the city was visiting them, Frances said: "I propose that we set at work to have a town of our own." They made the plans and laid out Fort City about the farmhouse. |