hed on a train. It was named the "Grand Trunk
Herald."

Young Edison worked as a train boy for four years, and he had in that
time saved two thousand dollars, which he gave to his parents.

Once he thought he would like to read all the books in the city
library. He read for a long time, but he found that he could not
finish all the books. He then made up his mind that one would have to
live a thousand years in order to read all the books in that library,
so he gave up the idea.

One day he bought a book on electricity. Soon after that the basement
of his home was filled with many odd things. He used a stovepipe to
connect his home with that of another boy, and through this the boys
could talk when they wished.

A kind friend taught young Edison how to telegraph, and in five months
he could operate well and was given a position. He worked very hard,
night and day, so that he could learn all he could about electricity.
He lost place after place because he was always trying some new idea.
When he first proposed to send four messages on one wire at the same
time, he was laughed at by the people; but Edison succeeded. Later on
he invented the phonograph. His greatest invention is the incandescent
light, which is used for lighting purposes.

Mr. Edison loves his work, and although he is now a very wealthy man,
he keeps on inventing and working every day. It is said that he
sometimes works for twenty-four hours, day and night, without food or
rest, until he has perfected some new invention. Mr. Edison is a true
type of an American gentleman.

SELECTION XVII

OFT IN THE STILLY NIGHT

Oft in the stilly night,
Ere slumber's chain has bound me,
Fond memory brings the light
Of other days around me;
The smiles, the tears
Of boyhood's years,
The words of love then spoken;
The eyes that shone,
Now dimm'd and gone,
The cheerful hearts now broken.
Thus in the stilly night,
Ere slumber's chain has bound me,
Sad memory brings the light
Of other days around me.

When I remember all
The friends, so linked together,
I've seen around me fall,
Like leaves in wintry weather,
I feel like one
Who treads alone
Some banquet hall deserted,
Whose lights are fled,
Whose garlands dead,
And all but he departed.
Thus in the stilly night,
Ere slumber's chain has bound me,
Sad memory brings the light
Of other days around me.