nd then at furious speed he rode
Along the Niger's bank;
His bridle-reins were golden chains,
And, with a martial clank,
At each leap he could feel his scabbard of steel
Smiting his stallion's flank.

Before him, like a blood-red flag,
The bright flamingoes flew;
From morn till night he followed their flight,
O'er plains where the tamarind grew,
Till he saw the roofs of Caffre huts,
And the ocean rose to view.

At night he heard the lion roar,
And the hyena scream,
And the river-horse, as he crushed the reeds,
Beside some hidden stream;
And it passed, like a glorious roll of drums,
Through the triumph of his dream.

The forests, with their myriad tongues,
Shouted of liberty;
And the Blast of the Desert cried aloud,
With a voice so wild and free,
That he started in his sleep and smiled
At their tempestuous glee.

He did not feel the driver's whip,
Nor the burning heat of day;
For Death had illumined the Land of Sleep,
And his lifeless body lay
A worn-out fetter, that the soul
Had broken and thrown away!

LONGFELLOW

Reading maketh a full man, conference a ready man, and writing an exact
man. Histories make men wise; poets, witty; the mathematics, subtle;
logic and rhetoric, able to contend.

BACON

THE CHASE

Early one August morning a doe was feeding on Basin Mountain.

The sole companion of the doe was her only child, a charming little
fawn, whose brown coat was just beginning to be mottled with beautiful
spots.

The buck, his father, had been that night on a long tramp across the
mountain to Clear Pond, and had not yet returned. He went to feed on the
lily pads there.

The doe was daintily cropping tender leaves and turning from time to
time to regard her offspring. The fawn had taken his morning meal and
now lay curled up on a bed of moss.

If the mother stepped a pace or two farther away in feeding, the fawn
made a half-movement, as if to rise and follow her. If, in alarm, he
uttered a plaintive cry, she bounded to him at once.

It was a pretty picture,--maternal love on the one part, and happy trust
on the other.

The doe lifted her head with a quick motion. Had she heard something?
Probably it was only the south wind in the balsams. There was silence
all about in the forest. With an affectionate glance at her fawn, she
contin