. Canadian Catholic Readers. Third Reader. I wish we could hear the Inchcape Bell. They hear no sound ; the swell is strong;Though the wind hath fallen, they drift the vessel strikes with a shivering shock;Cried they : It is the Inchcape Rock ! Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair,He cursed himself in his despair:The waves rush in on every side ;The ship is sinking beneath the tide. But, even in his dying dreadful sound could the Rover hear,—A sound as if, with the Inchcape Bell,The fiends below were ringing his knell. —Robert Southey. I count this thing to be grandly true, Th
. Canadian Catholic Readers. Third Reader. I wish we could hear the Inchcape Bell. They hear no sound ; the swell is strong;Though the wind hath fallen, they drift the vessel strikes with a shivering shock;Cried they : It is the Inchcape Rock ! Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair,He cursed himself in his despair:The waves rush in on every side ;The ship is sinking beneath the tide. But, even in his dying dreadful sound could the Rover hear,—A sound as if, with the Inchcape Bell,The fiends below were ringing his knell. —Robert Southey. I count this thing to be grandly true, That a noble deed is a step toward (Jod,—Lifting the soul from the common clod To a purer air and a broader view. 190 Third Reader. LXXVIIL—THE CRATCHITS CHRISTMASDINNER. Then up rose Mrs. Cratchit, Cratchits wife, dressedout but jioorly in a twice-turned gown, but brave inribbons, which are cheap and make a goodly show forsixpence; and she laid the cloth, assisted by BelindaCratchit, second of her daughters, also brave in ribbons;. while Master Peter Cratchit plunged a fork into thesaucepan of potatoes, and getting the corners of hismonstrous shirt-collar (Bobs private property, conferredupon his son and heir in honor of the day) into hismouth, rejoiced to find himself so gallantly attired, andyearned to show his linen in the fashionable parks. The Cratchits Christmas Dinner. 191 And now two smaller Cratchits, boy and girl, cametearing in, screaming that outside the bakers they hadsmelt the goose, and known it for their own; and,basking in luxurious thoughts of sage and onion, theseyoung Cratchits danced about the table, and exaltedMaster Peter Cratchit to the skies, while he (not proud,although his collar nearly choked him) blew the fire,until the slow potatoes, bubbling up, knocked loudly atthe saucepan-lid to be let out and peeled. Theres father coming, cried the two young Cratchits,who were everywhere at once. Hide, Martha, hide ! So Martha hid herself, and in came l
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