rolled over and over, and tore out each other's greyish-brown wool in great masses. The old bear had the best of it, however, and sat up, uttering frightful growls at the smaller bear. By this moment I had reloaded, and sent a bullet into the brute near the heart. With one bound it leapt on its foe, which tried to escape it, but the old bear held it tight in its fore-claws, and dug its monstrous teeth into the other's back. The other bear defended itself desperately, and soon found that the old brute's strength was giving way: it sprang on it and buried its tusks in its chest, and standing over it, tore it up with its two hind-paws. I was certain of the victory, and was so careless as not to reload my rifle, but fired my second barrel at the younger bear without concealing myself properly behind the rock. I hit it well, but it scarce felt my bullet ere it turned its savage head towards me, and galloped towards the rock with an awful roar. In an instant it reached the base of my fortress, and sprang with its forelegs on the first layer, while it opened its blood-stained throat, and, with smoking breath, uttered the most fearful sounds. At the moment when it raised itself on the rock I held my revolver as near as I could, and fired between its small glowing eyes: it fell back, but at once got up again, and tried still more furiously to scale the rock, by springing with all four feet at once upon the first stage, and raised its blood-dripping face just under me. I had pulled out my second revolver, and held it cocked in my left hand. I pointed both barrels at the monster's head and fired them together: it turned over, and rolled motionless on to the ground. I looked at the two others which still lay quiet side by side, and could scarce believe my eyes as they gazed down on the victory which I had gained over these three terrors of the desert. I quickly reloaded, and looked around carefully from my fort, especially in the direction from whence the brutes had come, for other male bears might easily follow their track. could see nothing to alarm me, and now sprang down from the rock with Trusty, went cautiously up to the bears, and found them all lifeless. They were three monstrous I brutes: the old bear must have weighed at least 1500 lbs., the she-bear 1000 lbs., and the smaller bear 800 lbs. These beasts are often found on the Rocky Mountains, where they are very numerous, as the hunters do not care to pursue them. Everybody is glad to get out of their way, and only uses weapons against them when he is attacked, or can fire at them from a place of safety, such as a boat on a river, when the bears are on land, or from a stout tree. The Indians also only fight them in self-defence, and hence their claws are considered the greatest mark of honour with which they can adorn themselves. The value of a "grizzly" stands in no proportion to the danger the hunter incurs in pursuing it, for its hide is too heavy, and its hair not so fine as that of the black bear: it never becomes so fat as the latter, and its flesh is not so delicate. Hence people are glad to avoid it, and the hunter willingly surrenders his booty to it, when, on following the bloody track of a head of game, he runs a risk of being caught up by the "grizzly." This animal does not know what fearis, and once irritated it will fight and hit as long as it is able. I know instances in which a "grizzly" had some thirty bullets in its body ere it was killed; but if hit at the right spot, it falls as easily as any other animal. The she-bear gives birth, from November to January, to two or four cubs, which soon follow it on its forays, and are trained to hunt, which speedily develops the savage, cruel qualities of the young monsters. It hunts both in the mountains and on the prairies: in the former it lays in wait for the game, and darts down from the rocks on its unhappy victim, while on the latter it will chase its terrified quarry for miles, and mercilessly rend it when captured. For instance, it seizes buffaloes, horses, wild cattle, &c., at full gallop by the hocks, tears out the sinews, and in a second renders them incapable of flying farther. When caught quite young and trained, these animals become very tame, but they must never be trusted, as any negligence may cost one's life, and I knew several instances on the frontier of men being torn by such tamed bears, or at least losing an arm or a leg. THE BOY'S RECITER. 12. SUNSET. (Shelley.) This beautiful example of calm and tranquil expression, requires attention, principally to the perfect" purity" and smoothness of the voice, quiet, level tones, and long pauses. The action is but slight and occasional. "Tis the set of sun. Or the deep lowing of the distant beast, To student's or to sick man's watchful ear, And hearkening to the church memorial, deem That sometimes it may sound a different tale, And, upwards to the stars and mighty moon, Send hollow tidings from this dreaming world, Proclaiming all below as calm as they. 13. JUBAL AND CAIN. (Montgomery.) HERE Jubal paused; for grim before him lay, An awful form, that through the gloom appeared, Half brute, half human; whose terrific beard, Like eagle's plumage ruffled by the air, Veiled a sad wreck of grandeur and of grace ; And hoary flakes of long dishevelled hair, Limbs torn and wounded, a majestic face That goaded till remorse to madness rose ; No art could tame him, and no chains could Already seven disastrous years had shed stroke, O'er all the strings; whence in a whirlwind Such tones of terror, dissonance, despair, Cold, breathless, motionless, through all his But soon his visage quickened into flame, Then rolling down in thunder on the ear; And charm the evil spirit from the brain. Slowly recovering from that trance profound, Bewildered, touched, transported with the sound, Cain viewed himself, the bard, the earth, the sky, While wonder flashed and faded in his eye, When windy Darkness rides upon the clouds, Poured through the sufferer's breast delicious balm, And soothed remembrance till remorse grew calm, Till Cain forsook the solitary wild, Led by the minstrel, like a weaned child. Oh! had you seen him to his home restored, How young and old ran forth to meet their lord; How friends and kindred on his neck did fall, Weeping aloud, while Cain outwept them all : But hush!-thenceforward, when recoiling In chains of harmony the mightiest mind: Which the first stroke of coming strife From many necks the ignoble yoke, And now the work of life and death Hung on the passing of a breath: The fire of conflict burned within,--- slaves? Would they not feel their children tread 14. ARNOLD WINKELRIED. (James Mont-All Switzerland is in the field ;— gomery.) See remarks formerly made on ballad style. Till time to dust their frames should wear; She will not fly,--she can not yield,— She must not fall: her better fate Here gives her an immortal date. Few were the numbers she could boast; And by the motion of his form Tell where the bolt would strike, and how. As rushed the spears through Arnold's heart; Rout, ruin, panic, scattered all :- Thus Switzerland again was free; 15. THE PHANTOM MILKMAN; OR, THE HAUNTED PUMP. (J. G. Watts.) PROLOGUE. SOME don't believe in ghosts. I do; A white cat flying down the stairs; And when her uncle's ship was lost, And all his money, goods, and land Fell to her share, a red-hot purse Jumped from the fire, and scorched her hand; That when with measles I fell ill, A winding-sheet was in the taper; She showed my Pa, who shouted, "Fudge! I'll stop your superstitious caper," And flung the candle in the street, By which she says the charm was broken; For I got well within a week, And since she never had a token. Now, putting grandmamma aside, To tell a tale I wish partic'lar; Put by, prepare to shed it now; Ease your cravat, nor heed revealings; And, grandsire, get your snuff-box out, For this will surely touch your feelings. THE STORY. Hard by the Old Kent Road, there lived, A man who dressed in corded breech, In coat of velvet green, and vest He was not short, he was not tall, He said he was a dairyman, But still no cows had he; Save one of chalk, upon a shelf, He to a cow-yard hied each morn, For fresh supplies-some said he passed And that he stopped as he returned; And vulgar men would chaff, And shout as he cried " Milk Be-low!" "Let's 'ave some arf-an'-arf." One morning, as he went to serve He slipped upon the greasy spot, He lost his feet, let go his can, A sympathetic housemaid flew, She led him to the kitchen fire, Some comforts to bestow; And as she gave him toast and tea, Sly Cupid struck a blow: For ere he'd had the seventh round, To feel a something at his chest- He twirled his thumbs, he rolled his eyes, The maiden blushed, and cried, "Get out!" If you'll 'ave me, why I'll 'ave you, Said she, "What do you earn per week?" Said she, "When you earns one pun-ten, Ah, love! ah woe! poor Milk Be-low, Would that you ne'er had seen that girl, Would that you'd never made a slip, Would that you'd shunned that fatal cup! A week passed on, and by his smiles Each day he tarried at the pump At last his customers began To grumble and complain, And one, a waggish doctor, said, He'd water on his brain." And ere a fortnight had expired His milk had grown so thin, That five-and-twenty all at once Refused to take it in. But worse than all, his lady-love, That night-it was a foggy one A man was seen to glide Down the 'Kent Road, with a clothes-line At length he paused before a pump, He placed his foot upon the spout, Scarce had the morrow dawned, when one, Came there to wash some water-cress, A jury on his body sat, And when they had deplored The suicidal deed, they found--"Died of his own a(c)cord." One would have thought that of this world He'd had enough; but no, Each midnight by the pump is seen The Ghost of Milk Be-low. He fills his can, then softly says, "Gad, but it's growin' thin; I hate adulteration, or I'd put some whitening in." And when the early village cock He mutters, "Yes, the breakfast milk," |