are wont to fear the people of a strange land. They asked not their name, for they remembered not the bidding of Odysseus; but they drank the dark wine and ate of the rosy fruit which the fair maidens held out to them. 'Eat,' they said, 'O strangers, of the fruit which kills all pain; surely ye are weary, and your hearts are faint with sorrow, and your eyes are dim as with many tears. Eat of our fruit, and forget your labours; for all who eat of it remember weary toil, and strife, and war no more.' So they ate of the fruit, and then over their senses stole softly a strange and wondrous sleep, so that they saw, and heard, and spake even while they slumbered. On their ears fell the echo of a dreamy music, and forms of maidens, fair as Aphrodite when she rose from the sea foam, passed before their eyes; and they said one to another: 'Here let us sit, and feast, and dream for ever.' Long time Odysseus waited on the sea-shore, and less and less he marvelled that they came not back, for he felt that over his own heart the strange spell was falling; and he said: 'Ah, Penelope, dearer to me than aught else on the wide earth, the gods envy me thy love, else would they not seek to beguile me thus in this strange land of dreams and slumber.' So he rose up, as one rises to go forth to battle, and he went quickly on the path by which his men had gone before him. Presently, he saw them in the deep dell, and the rich fruit of the lotus was in their hand. They then called to Odysseus, and said: 'We have come to the land of the lotus-eaters; sit thou down with us, and eat of their fruit, and forget all thy cares for ever!' But Odysseus answered not, and hastening back, he bade the others come with him, and bind the three men, and carry them to the ship. 'Heed not the people of the land,' he said, 'nor touch their rosy fruit. It were a shame for men who have fought at Ilion to slumber here, like swine fattening for their slaughter.' So they hastened and bound the three men who sat at the banquet of the lotus-eaters; and they heeded not their words as they besought them to taste of their fruit, and forget all their misery and trouble. And Odysseus hurried them back to the shore, and made them drag down the ships into the sea, and sit down to their long oars. Hasten, O friends, hasten,' he said, 'from this land of dreams! Hither come the lotus-eaters, and their soft voices will beguile our hearts if we tarry longer, and they will tempt us to taste of their fruit; and then we shall seek no more to go back again to the land of toiling men.' Then the dash of their oars broke the calm of the still air, and roused the waters from their gentle slumber as they toiled on their weary way. Further and further they went, but still the echo, as of faint and lulling music, fell upon their ear, and they saw fair forms of maidens roaming listlessly on the shore. And when they had rowed the ship further out into the sea, still the drooping palm-trees seemed to beckon them back to slumber, as they bowed their heads over the flowers which slept in the shade beneath them; and a deeper peace rested on the lotus land as the veil of evening fell gently on the plain, and the dying sun kissed the far-off hills.* From Cox's Mythology. *The words in this lesson are so simple, that spelling and dictation lessons are omitted. THE TWO SACKS. 1. From our necks when life's journey begins, Two sacks, Jove, the father suspends ; The one holds our own proper sins, The other the sins of our friends. 2. The first man immediately throws Out of sight, out of mind, at his back; The last is so under his nose, He sees every grain in the sack. MY NATIVE LAND. People's Song. 1. She is a rich and rare land, Oh, she's a fresh and fair land, She is a dear and rare land This native land of mine. 2. No men than hers are braver, Her women's hearts ne'er waver, I'd freely die to save her, And think my lot divine. 3. She's not a dull or cold land No, she's a warm and bold land; This native land of mine. 4. Oh, she's a fresh and fair land, Yes, she's a rare and fair land, This native land of mine. THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER. CHAPTER I.-THE NIGHT-SCHOOL. [Spell and write] energetic, character, geography, violently, incredulously, intelligent, examination, semicircle, interfere, neighbourhood, passionately, subscription, apparently, accompanied, perplexity, suggested. Mr Morton, teacher of the Lea Hill Branch Night School, was walking up and down between the classes in no very pleasant temper. It was the 1st of November, a cold foggy evening, and every time he approached either of the fires that blazed at the ends of the room, he stirred it impatiently, till the flames shot up and cast a red glow on the rafters and whitewashed walls, and made the diamond window-panes sparkle again. The teacher's eyes were often turned to the clock against the wall, whose fingers pointed at eight minutes to nine: at length he stopped before a long desk, round which some twenty boys were writing. 'Harry Archer's paper finished?' he asked the monitor. 'No, sir, not half written; he was turned in his spelling, and did not begin till twenty minutes to nine.' Mr Morton had not long come to Lea Hill, and being a clever, energetic master, was doing his best to keep the boys to their work, and to support the character of the school. The paper was a geography exercise, for the classes met every night, and besides reading, writing, and sums, there were occasional simple lessons in geography and history. 'I never missed before, sir,' said Harry; 'don't take my mark, please sir, I'll do double by next lesson, I will!' 'You never have missed before, I know,' said Mr Morton; do you promise, then, to bring the extra quantity by Tuesday?' 'Yes, sir,' said Harry eagerly, but at the same moment he started violently, from the effects of a kick he received under the table. 'No, sir, I mean he stammered, colouring. 'Yes, sir-no, sir-what do you mean?' said the teacher. There was a silence: some of the boys tittered, others fidgeted, and looked for another to speak. 'Tuesday, sir,' faltered Harry. 'Well,' said the master, 'what is Tuesday?' The answer burst from a dozen lips at once. "Holiday, sir!' Guy Fawkes, sir !' 'Fifth of November, sir!' 'Bonfire-day, sir!' 'School shuts up, sir?' < Stop a little-the school shuts up?' said the master incredulously. 'Father promised us a bonfire in our yard,' said Harry; 'we are to have fireworks.' "There will be no holiday unless I give leave,' said Mr Morton. The boys looked at each other in dismay; at length |