ecting, projecting,
Receding and speeding,
And shocking and rocking,
And darting and parting,
And threading and spreading,
And whizzing and hissing,
And dripping and skipping,
And hitting and splitting,
And shining and twining,
And rattling and battling,
And shaking and quaking,
And pouring and roaring,
And waving and raving,
And tossing and crossing,
And guggling and struggling,
And heaving and cleaving,
And moaning and groaning,
And glittering and frittering,
And gathering and feathering,
And whitening and brightening,
And quivering and shivering,
And hurrying and skurrying,
And thundering and floundering;

10. Dividing and gliding and sliding,
And falling and brawling and sprawling,
And driving and riving and striving,
And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling;

11. And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping,
And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing;
And so never ending, but always descending,
Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending,
All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar,
And this way the water comes down at Lodore.
--Abridged from Southey.

DEFINITIONS.--4. Tarn, a small lake among the mountains. Fell (provincial
English), a stony hill. Gills (provincial English), brooks. 10. Brawl'ing,
roaring. Riv'ing, splitting.

NOTES.--1. Lodore is a cascade on the banks of Lake Derwentwater, in
Cumberland, England, near where Southey lived.

3. Laureate. The term probably arose from a custom in the English
universities of presenting a laurel wreath to graduates in rhetoric and
versification. In England the poet laureate's office is filled by
appointment of the lord chamberlain. The salary is quite small, and the
office is valued chiefly as one of honor.

This lesson is peculiarly adapted for practice on the difficult sound
"ing".

XXXIX. THE BOBOLINK.

1. The happiest bird of our spring, however, and one that rivals the
European lark in my estimation, is the boblincoln, or bobolink as he is
commonly called. He arrives at that choice portion of our year which, in
this latitude, answers to the description of the month of May so often
given by the poets. With us it begins about the middle of May, and lasts
until nearly the middle of June. Earlier than this, winter is apt to
return on its traces, and to blight the opening beauties of the year; and