borne, carried

18. I REMEMBER.

child-ish, like a child
ig-nor-ance, knowing little
heav-y, sad

lab-urn-um, a tree bearing
yellow flowers

li-lac, a shrub with per-
fume like a lily
peep-ing, looking quietly
re-mem-ber, cannot forget
slen-der, thin

spir-it, state of mind

I remember, I remember
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn.
He never came a wink too soon,
Nor brought too long a day;
But now I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away.

I remember, I remember
The roses red and white,
The violets and the lily cups,
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday,-
The tree is living yet.

I remember, I remember

Where I was used to swing,
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing.

My spirit flew in feathers then,

That is so heavy now,

And summer pools could hardly cool

The fever on my brow.

I remember, I remember
The fir-trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky.
It was a childish ignorance;
But now 'tis little joy

To know I'm farther off from heaven

Than when I was a boy.

About a hundred years ago this country was at war with France. No French or British ship dare cross the sea alone. Vessels had to go in fleets, or large numbers, and were attended by ships of war to protect them.

These men-of-war were large wooden ships, armed with cannon, and manned by soldiers and sailors, who were ever ready to defend the ships under their care. On one occasion a British convoy was attacked by the French, who were more numerous and better armed than the British.

The ships sighted each other at daybreak, and were soon engaged in the fight. As the

merchant-ships were not armed, they fled towards the English Channel, hoping to escape. With a ringing cheer the British soldiers and British tars went to their guns; they knew that if they fell into the hands of their enemies, they might be imprisoned for years in a French dungeon. So they fought with great valour and

courage; they fought as men do for liberty or life.

As the day wore away, many brave men fell. Some were killed, and others wounded. Two of the ships-one on each side-sank, and many brave fellows went down with them. The shot and shell tore the sails and rigging, made holes in the sides of the ships, and often set them on

fire. It became a question of patience as well as of courage. Both sides fought long and bravely, but at last the victory was won by the British ships.

It was a terrible sight. The poor fellows were hot, wounded, and thirsty. Some were black with smoke and powder; others were faint with wounds and loss of blood. Some fought, with their wounds bound up, until they were scarcely able to stand. Sometimes they had to leave their guns and draw their swords, to cut down those who were trying to board them. When they had driven them off, they would run to their guns again, and fire away till they could see nothing but smoke, and hear nothing but the roar of the cannon.

Night came at last, and put an end to the dreadful battle. The loss of the French was much greater, both in ships and men, than that of the British. It was a long time before many of the ships were repaired and fit for service again; but the loss of life could never be repaired. What a terrible thing is war!

Oh, where would be the golden corn,

And where the ripe red wine,

The rich man's wealth, the poor man's health, Were't not for summer shine?

And where would be the sheep and beeves,

And plenty of the plain,

And where the light of beauty's eyes,

If 'twere not for the rain ?

There's no man rich, there's no man poor,
The sunshine's free to all;

The meanest beggar ever born

May thank the rains that fall.

The grandest gifts that Heaven bestows
Are mine and thine in vain,

If we cannot bless with grateful hearts
The sunshine and the rain.

DR. MACKAY.