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II.

Ah! she is our only darling,
And to me

All her little ways are witty;

And when she sings her little ditty,
Every word is just as pretty
As can be-

Not another in the city
Sweet as she.

III.

You don't think so-never saw her;Wish you could

See her with her playthings clattering,
Hear her little tongue a-chattering,
Little dancing feet come pattering—
Think you would

Love her just as well as I do,
If you could!

IV.

Every grandma's only darling,

I suppose,

Is as sweet and bright a blossom,
Is a treasure to her bosom,
Is as cheering and endearing,
As my Rose.

Heavenly Father, spare them to us,
Till life's close.

14

LXXIX.-PRESENCE OF MIND.

A LITTLE presence of mind in times of dan

ger is often worth more than any amount of strength.

2. Two young artists, whom we shall call Fritz and Carl, were once decorating the inner walls of a lofty church in Germany. A staging of boards had been slung up for them to stand upon, about forty feet from the ground.

3. Carl was painting a beautiful picture of Pharaoh's daughter finding Moses in the bulrushes.

4. "Ah, Fritz!" he cried, "I never painted such a face before. It is lovely. It will make me famous. One more touch-a little shading there in the dimple by the mouth."

5. The touch was given, and Carl, absorbed and enraptured by his own painting, quite forgot for a moment where he was. He stepped backward in order to take a view of it from a little distance.

6. Fritz noticed the movement, and saw with horror that, by taking one step more, his friend would walk off the staging and be dashed upon the pavement below. To speak would only increase the danger. What was to be done?

7. "Marvelous! superb!" Carl was saying, as he gazed intently upon the creation of his hands and raised his foot to take the fatal step.

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8. "That for your pic. ture!" cried Fritz, flinging his brush at the face of Pharaoh's daughter.

9. "Madman!" shrieked Carl, springing forward too late to save his precious work. "Oh, Fritz!"

10. "It is you who are the madman," replied Fritz, calmly. "Don't you see? if I had not attacked your picture, in another instant you

would have been lying dead upon the stones

down yonder. Your Pharaoh's daughter was indeed superb; but better that the face should be spoiled than that my friend's body should be dashed to pieces.'

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11. “Ah, Fritz, you have saved me!" said Carl, bursting into tears as he clasped the hand of his friend. "I thought how delighted my mother would be at the fame I should win. But how little could my fame have consoled her if I had lost my life, as I certainly should have done, but for your presence of mind!"

12. The lovely face in the painting was indeed spoiled, but Carl lived to paint still better and nobler pictures, and to delight his mother and his friend Fritz by the fame and fortune which they brought him.

LXXX.-BEAST AND MAN ARE BROTHERS.

L

I.

ITTLE one, come to my knee!

Hark! how the rain is pouring

Over the roof in the pitch-black night,
And the winds in the woods a-roaring!
Hush, my darling, and listen!

Then pay for the story with kisses,
Father was lost in the pitch-black night,
In just such a storm as this is.

II.

High up on the lonely mountains,

Where the wild men watched and waited,

Wolves in the forest and bears in the bush,

And I on my path belated,

The rain and the night together

Came down, and the wind came after, Bending the props of the pine-tree roof, And snapping many a rafter.

III.

I crept along in the darkness,
Stunned and bruised and blinded-
Crept to a fir with thick-set boughs,
And a sheltering rock behind it;
There, from the blowing and raining,
Crouching, I sought to hide me;
Something rustled, two green eyes shone,
And a wolf lay down beside me.

IV.

Little one, be not frightened!

I and the wolf together,

Side by side, through the long, long night, Hid from the awful weather.

His wet fur pressed against me;

Each of us warmed the other;

Each of us felt, in the stormy night,

That beast to man is brother.

V.

And when the falling forest

No longer crashed in warning,
Each of us went from our hiding-place,
Forth in the wild wet morning.

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