General Notes.-Was " our Western home" the United States or Canada? The panther, which is found in both places, is also called the cougar and the American lion. It is a large cat, generally black, but sometimes yellow, as in the story. The whip-poor-will is a North American bird with wide, bristly mouth, soft plumage, and silent flight. It gets its name from its weird, whistling cry, "whip-poor-will," "whip- poor-will." Do you know any other poems about brave women pioneers?
Lesson 42
THE BROOk
I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally,And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley.
By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges,By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges.
Till last by Phillip"s farm I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays,I babble on the pebbles.
With many a curve my banks I fret
By many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow.
I chatter, chatter, as I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
Drawn by W.S. Wemyss
The Brook
I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing,And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling,And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silvery waterbreak Above the golden gravel,And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slide by hazel covers;I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers.
I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows;I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows.
Drawn by W.S. Wemyss
"Men may come and men may go."
I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses;I linger by my shingly bars; I loiter round my cresses;And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
- Lord Tennyson
Author.-Alfred Tennyson (1818-92), was born in England, and completed his education at Cambridge. He practised verse-making from his early years, and spent his life at it. He was appointed Poet-Laureate in 1850. His poems to a considerable extent embody the philosophic and religious thought of his time. His principal poems are-The Princess, In Memoriam. Idylls of the King, and a number of well-known shorter lyrics.
General Notes.-Here we have Tennyson at his favourite device ofmaking the sound imitate the sense. Which of the stanzas or lines are most like the flow or babble or action of a brook? What are coot, hern, trout grayling, shingly bars? Find a suitable air for this poem; it is a true lyric, How dancingly happy does it move along ! Compare Happy Creek, by John Bernard O"Hara, and The Tide River, by Charles Kingsley. What other poems do you know about creeks and rivers and seas? Does a brook go on for ever?
Suggestions for Verse-speaking.-What two lines form a refrain?
Notice that they divide the poem into four parts, each part describing a different stage in the brook"s course. Divide the class into four sections, and let each section speak one part of the poem. If desired, the sections can be divided into three or four sub-sections, according to the number of stanzas in each part. Each sub-section can then speak one stanza, the whole section coming in at the two-line refrain. Draw the brook"s course on the floor, and arrange the speakers along it in the right order.
Lesson 43
AN ADVENTuRE WITH WOLVES
[This is a story of life in ancient Britain, when wolves roamed through the forests. Beric and Boduoc, two Britons, were in the forest that lay near their village, when they heard a cry.]
"What is that?" exclaimed Beric, as a distant cry came to their ears.
"I think it"s the voice of a woman," Boduoc said, "ormaybe it is one of the Spirits of Evil!"
"Nonsense, Boduoc! It was the cry of a woman; it came from ahead. Come along"; and he started to run.
"Stop, Beric, stop. I hear other sounds."
"So do I. Why, don"t you know the snarling of wolves whenyou hear it?"
Again the loud cry of distress came on the night air.
In a short time they stood at the edge of a little clearing by the side of the path. It was lighter here, and Beric could make out the outline of a rude hut and, as he thought, that of many dark figures moving round it. A fierce growling and snarling rose from around the hut, with once or twice a sharp yell of pain.
" There are half a dozen of them on the roof and a scoreor more round the hut. At present they haven"t winded us,for the air is in our faces."
Holding their spears in readiness for action, they ran forward. When thirty yards from the hut, Boduoc raised his voice in a wild yell, Beric adding his cry and then shouting, " Unbar your door, and stand by to close it as we enter."The door opened as Beric and his companion came up, and they rushed in and closed it after them. A fire burned on the hearth. A dead wolf lay on the ground, some children crouched in terror on a pile of rushes, and a woman stood with a spear in her hand.
"Thanks to our country"s gods that you have come!" she said. "A few minutes later, and all would have been over with me and my children. See, one has already made his way through the roof, and in half a dozen places they have scratched holes well-nigh large enough to pass through.""We heard your cry," Beric said, " and hastened forward at the top of our speed. Where is your husband?""He started this afternoon for Cardun. He and all the able-bodied men were ordered to assemble there to-night in readiness to begin the war against the wolves at daybreak.""They are coming again," Boduoc broke in. "I can hear their feet pattering on the dead leaves. Which shall we do- pile more wood on the fire, or let it go out altogether?""I don"t know, Boduoc; I think we shall do better if wehave light."