'Twas little Barbara Lewthwaite, a child of beauty rare!

I watched them with delight, they were a lovely pair ;

Now with her empty can the maiden turn'd away, But ere ten yards were gone, her footsteps did she stay.

Right towards the lamb she look'd, and from that shady place

I unobserved could see the workings of her face;

If nature to her tongue could measured numbers bring,

Thus, thought I, to her lamb that little maid might sing:

'What ails thee, young one? what? Why pull so at thy cord?

Is it not well with thee? well both for bed and board?

Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass can be;

Rest, little young one, rest; what is't that aileth thee?

'What is it thou wouldst seek? What is wanting to thy heart ?

Thy limbs are they not strong? and beautiful thou art!

This grass is tender grass; these flowers they have no peers;

And that green corn all day is rustling in thy

ears.

'If the sun be shining hot, do but stretch thy woollen chain;

This beech is standing by, its covert thou canst gain;

For rain and mountain-storms!-the like thou need'st not fear,

The rain and storm are things that scarcely can come here.

'Rest, little young one, rest; thou hast forgot the day

When my father found thee first in places far away;

Many flocks were on the hills, but thou wert own'd by none,

And thy mother from thy side for evermore was gone.

He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee home:

A blessed day for thee!-then whither wouldst thou roam?

A faithful nurse thou hast ; the dam that did ;

thee yean

Upon the mountain tops no kinder could have been.

'Thou know'st that twice a day I have brought thee in this can

Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever

ran;

And twice in the day, when the ground is wet with dew,

I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it is, and new.

'Thy limbs will shortly be twice as stout as they are now,

Then I'll yoke thee to my cart, like a pony in the plough!

My playmate thou shalt be; and when the wind is cold

Our hearth shall be thy bed, our house shall be thy fold.

'It will not, will not rest!-Poor creature, can it be

That 'tis thy mother's heart which is working so in thee?

Things that I know not of belike to thee are dear,

And dreams of things which thou canst neither see nor hear.

'Alas, the mountain-tops that look so green and fair!

I've heard of fearful winds and darkness that come there;

The little brooks that seem all pastime and all play,

When they are angry, roar like lions for their prey.

'Here thou need'st not dread the raven in the sky;

Night and day thou art safe,—our cottage is hard by.

Why bleat so after me? Why pull so at thy chain ?

Sleep, and at break of day I will come to thee again.'

As homeward through the lane I went with lazy feet,

This song to myself did I oftentimes repeat; And it seem'd, as I retraced the ballad line by line,

That but half of it was hers, and one half of it was mine.

Again and once again did I repeat the song; 'Nay,' said I, 'more than half to the damsel must belong!

For she looked with such a look, and she spake with such a tone,

That almost I received her heart into

my own.' WORDSWORTH.

It is said that Sir Isaac Newton came home one very cold evening in winter almost starved through. He placed himself before a large fire that had been lighted in his study, and after a time got thoroughly warmed. He then rang for his servant, and requested him to take away the fire at once, as it was almost roasting him. The man did not understand at first what his master meant. 'Remove the grate, you lazy rascal,' said the philosopher; 'remove the grate before I am burnt to death!' 'But cannot you draw back your chair?' said the servant. 'Upon

my word,' said his master with a smile, 'I never thought of that.'

Another story of the same great man is told. His servant came into his room one morning to boil an egg for breakfast. Sir Isaac, who did not wish to be disturbed, took the egg, asked how long it should be boiled, and said he would see to it himself. The servant, coming into the room about half an hour afterwards, found his master standing over the fireplace with the egg in his hand, looking intently at it. He had put his watch into the saucepan on the fire.

Another great man, whose name we will not mention, returned home one very wet and stormy night. His umbrella was wet through, but instead of putting it into the stand, he took it into his bed-room and put it carefully into bed, as if it had been a child. He did not find out his mistake until he got into bed himself. The cold, wet umbrella soon made its presence felt, but the great man only said, 'Dear me, I wonder who put that into my bed?'

A clergyman, whose eyesight was beginning to fail, bought a pair of spectacles, and used them for the first time in his church. During the service it was observed that he wore them on the top of his forehead the whole time. At the close a friend said to him, 'I see that you have taken to wearing spectacles, doctor.' 'Yes,' replied the minister; I found that I could not get on without them, and I am sorry I did not take to them before.'