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pony.

cession, mounted the French king on a fine creamcolored horse and rode at his side on a little This was all very kind, but I think it was perhaps a little theatrical, too, and has been made more meritorious than it deserved to be; especially as I am inclined to think that the greatest kindness to the King of France would have been not to have shown him to the people at all.

33. However, it must be said for these acts of politeness that, in course of time, they did much to soften the horrors of war and the passions of conquerors. It was a long, long time before the common soldiers began to have the benefit of such courtly deeds; but they did at last; and thus it is possible that a poor soldier who asked for quarter at the battle of Waterloo, or any other such great fight, may have owed his life indirectly to Edward, the Black Prince.

I. Là Hōgue. Crécy (Cres'sĩ). É nôr'mous: very large. Warwick. Sire: lord or master; a title of respect in addressing a king. A mi ens (ăng). Sig'ni fỹ ing: meaning.

II. Căl'ais.

III. Poitiers (Pwȧ ti a'). St. George: the patron saint of England. Gôr'geous: fine; magnificent. Měr i tō'ri oŭs: possessing merit. Court'ly: polite; elegant. Wa'ter loo: a great battle fought in 1815, in which the French were defeated by the allied forces of English and Prussians.

The Snowstorm

BY JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER

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John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892): An American poet. The scenes and people which surrounded his childhood are described in "Snowbound," from which this selection is taken. Whittier is sometimes called "The Poet of New England," because, better than any other writer, he pictures the scenes, life, and people of New England. Many of his shorter poems, such as "Maud Muller," "In School Days," and "The Barefoot Boy," are very popular.

John Greenleaf Whittier

1. The sun that brief December day
Rose cheerless over hills of gray,
And, darkly circled, gave at noon
A sadder light than waning moon.
Slow tracing down the thickening sky
Its mute and ominous prophecy,
A portent seeming less than threat,
It sank from sight before it set.
A chill no coat, however stout,

Of homespun stuff could quite shut out,
A hard, dull bitterness of cold,

That checked, mid-vein, the circling race Of life blood in the sharpened face,

The coming of the snowstorm told.

The wind blew east; we heard the roar
Of Ocean on his wintry shore,

And felt the strong pulse throbbing there
Beat with low rhythm our inland air.

2. Meanwhile we did our nightly chores,-
Brought in the wood from out of doors,
Littered the stalls, and from the mows
Raked down the herd's grass for the cows;
Heard the horse whinnying for his corn;
And, sharply clashing horn on horn,
Impatient down the stanchion rows
The cattle shake their walnut bows;
While, peering from his early perch
Upon the scaffold's pole of birch,
The cock his crested helmet bent
And down his querulous challenge sent.
Unwarmed by any sunset light
The gray day darkened into night,
A night made hoary with the swarm
And whirl dance of the blinding storm,
As zigzag wavering to and fro

Crossed and recrossed the wingèd snow:
And ere the early bedtime came

The white drift piled the window frame,

And through the glass the clothesline posts
Looked in like tall and sheeted ghosts.

3. So all night long the storm roared on:
The morning broke without a sun;
In tiny spherule traced with lines
Of Nature's geometric signs,
In starry flake and pellicle
All day the hoary meteor fell;
And, when the second morning shone,
We looked upon a world unknown,
On nothing we could call our own.
Around the glistening wonder bent
The blue walls of the firmament,
No cloud above, no earth below,
A universe of sky and snow!
The old familiar sights of ours

Took marvelous shapes; strange domes and towers
Rose up where sty or corncrib stood,

Or garden wall or belt of wood;

A smooth white mound the brush-pile showed, A fenceless drift what once was road;

The bridle post an old man sat

With loose-flung coat and high-cocked hat;

The well curb had a Chinese roof;

And even the long sweep, high aloof,
In its slant splendor, seemed to tell

Of Pisa's leaning miracle.

Ŏm'i nous foreshadowing good or evil, usually evil. Por tent': a sign, especially of evil. Rhythm: measured beat; movement in musical time. Chōres: the regular light work of a household or farm. Herd's grass: a kind of grass much used for hay. Stan'chion: a bar for confining cattle in a stall. Hěl'mět: a defensive covering for the head. The helmet was often adorned with a cresta plume of feathers or other decoration - to show the rank of the wearer. Quěrủ lots : expressing complaint. Hoar'y: white, usually with age. Spher'ule a little sphere. Ge o mět'ric: according to geometry, the branch of mathematics which treats of solids, surfaces, lines, and angles. Pěl'li cle: thin film or skin. Chinese roof:

a high, peaked roof. A loof': away; at a distance. Pï'ṣä: a city of Italy. Pisa's leaning miracle: the famous leaning tower of Pisa.

Ball Bearings

1. My attention was first directed to the subject when my brother James, coming home one day after a long spin, complained loudly that some one had been tampering with his bicycle. Finding it harder work than usual, he had got off to look at the bearings, and found that several of the balls were missing. It struck me as wonderful that so much extra work and so much bad temper - should depend on a few small balls, and I was interested enough to study the subject.

2. Of course it is a question of friction. What is that, you say? Well, the word really means "rubbing," but a scientific man using it means the resist

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