Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of

death,

I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies :

Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. 5 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

QUESTIONS AND HELPS

1. Who wrote the Shepherd Psalm? 2. Why is it called so? 3. By what other name is it known? 4. Who was David? 5. Tell the story of how he conquered Goliath. 6. What do the shepherds in Syria do every morning with their sheep? 7. For what two reasons is it important to find a place for the sheep near where there is water?

8. Why is it so important to lead the sheep in right paths? 9. Why do the sheep fear no evil thing? 10. What is the rod? 11. What is the staff? 12. What is each used for? 13. What is the "table" that the shepherd prepares for the sheep? 14. What are the sheep's enemies? 15. What is meant by preparing a table "in the presence of mine enemies"? 16. How does the shepherd anoint the sheep's head with oil, and why? 17. What is meant by a cup "running over"? 18. Why do the sheep love the sheepfold? 19. Why do they love the shepherd? 20. Whom did David mean by the shepherd? 21. Memorize the psalm.

Other psalms that are easy to read are XXIV, XXVII, LXVII, LXXXIV, C, and CXXI. (See p. 298 of this book.)

How sweet is the Shepherd's sweet lot!
From the morn to the evening he strays;
He shall follow his sheep all the day,
And his tongue shall be filled with praise.
For he hears the lamb's innocent call,
And he hears the ewe's tender reply;

He is watchful, while they are in peace,
For they know when their Shepherd is nigh.

He prayeth best who loveth best

All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.

WILLIAM BLAKE

SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE

10

THE SANDPIPER

CELIA THAXTER

[Did you ever, while walking along a beach, notice a line of driftwood left there by the waves? There were bits of sticks and blocks that had been tossed about in the water and upon the rocks until their edges were worn smooth and 5 round. Some of them had belonged perhaps to gallant ships that had gone down in the storms, and some of them had floated from far-off shores — no one knows how far or how long. There were also pieces of seaweed and grass and little animals and many a queer wandering thing that had been 10 tossed there when the waves were high. And perhaps you

may have noticed along this line of drift the marks of a bird's feet, for the shore birds know that among the drift they will find food.

You may have seen the bird that makes some of these 15 marks a trim little gray or brownish bird, not quite so large as a robin, but with longer legs, a long bill, and a white or spotted breast. He runs along the beach, sometimes close to the edge of the water, and now and then thrusts his long bill into the sand searching for food. The storms 20 do not disturb him. He seems to love the wind and the dashing spray. And through the roar of the waves you may hear his sweet, musical little cry, somewhat like the note

of a flute or a pipe. It is this note that has given him his name of sandpiper.

About seventy-five years ago, upon a narrow beach on one of the Isles of Shoals, off the coast of New Hampshire, might have been seen playing almost any day in storm or 5 sunshine a happy little girl named Celia Laighton. She was born in Portsmouth in 1835, but when she was five years old her father was made lighthouse keeper on this lonely island and went there with his wife and children. There were only a few Norwegian fishermen and their families 10 on the Isles of Shoals, and life would have been very dull if this small girl had not been so fond of the sea. How she loved the salt spray, and the long, rolling waves, and the rocks, in whose hollows she found hundreds of strange little sea creatures when the tide went out! And how she 15 loved the little garden, bright with poppies and larkspur and sweet peas, which she tended with her own hands! She was a kind-hearted child, and sometimes, during a storm, when the sea birds would dash themselves against the lighthouse and break their wings, she would take care of them 20 until they were able to fly once more.

She became Celia Thaxter when she married young Mr. Levi Thaxter, who had come out as a missionary to the fishermen upon the islands. Then she went back to the mainland to live, and there she met many interesting people 25 and studied music and painting, and had many happy days,

but she was always hungry for the sea. Her first poem was called "Land-Locked," and tells of this longing. Yet she often went back to the islands to see her parents, and after

her father died she spent much of her time there with her 5 mother and brothers. Later in her life she used to pass a

part of her summers there and her winters at Newton, near Boston. One of her greatest joys was to call the wild birds around her and feed them. She died in 1894.

In this poem, "The Sandpiper," Mrs. Thaxter tells us how 10 she went out upon the beach one day to gather driftwood for the fire. A storm was coming up; the waves were running high and the black clouds were flying swiftly over them; the ships, with their sails all taken in, were being driven before the wind. She saw a little sandpiper running 15 along before her, afraid of nothing, and she felt that they

two, out in the wind together, ought to be friends. She asked herself where the sandpiper would be at night when the storm would break in all its fury and when she would be beside her fire in the house; but the thought came to 20 her that he could meet with no harm, for God would watch over him as well as over her.]

Across the narrow beach we flit,

One little sandpiper and I;

And fast I gather, bit by bit,

The scattered driftwood, bleached and dry.