Journeys through Bookland : a new and original plan for reading applied to the world's best literature for children . been hisparoxj^sms of dying rage. In order to take out thecharm from him, the Bakatla on the following daymade a huge bonfire over the carcass, which wasdeclared to be that of the largest lion they had everseen. Besides crunching the bone into splinters, heleft eleven teeth wounds on the upper part of myarm. A wound from this animals tooth resembles agunshot wound; it is generally followed by a great The Lion and the Missionary 97 deal of sloughing and discharge, and pains are
Journeys through Bookland : a new and original plan for reading applied to the world's best literature for children . been hisparoxj^sms of dying rage. In order to take out thecharm from him, the Bakatla on the following daymade a huge bonfire over the carcass, which wasdeclared to be that of the largest lion they had everseen. Besides crunching the bone into splinters, heleft eleven teeth wounds on the upper part of myarm. A wound from this animals tooth resembles agunshot wound; it is generally followed by a great The Lion and the Missionary 97 deal of sloughing and discharge, and pains are feltin the part, j:)eriodically ever afterward. 1 had ona tartan jacket on the occasion, and I believe that itwiped off all the virus from the teeth that piercedthe flesh, for my two companions in this affray haveboth suffered from the peculiar pains, while I haveescaped with only the inconvenience of a false jointin my limb. The man whose shoulder Avas wounded,showed me his wound actually burst forth afresh onthe same month of the following year. This curiouspoint certainly deserves the attention of THE MOSS ROSE TRANSLATED FROM KRUMMACHER THE angel of the flowers, one day,Beneath a rose-tree sleeping lay,—That spirit to whose charge tis givenTo bathe young buds in dews of from his light angel whispered to the rose:O fondest object of my care,Still fairest found, where all are fair;For the sweet shade thou givst to meAsk what thou wilt, tis granted , said the rose, with deepened glow,On me another grace spirit paused, in silent thought,—What grace was there that flower had not?Twas but a moment,—oer the roseA veil of moss the angel , robed in natures simplest there a flower that rose exceed? FOUR DUCKS ON A POND By William Allingham FOUR ducks on a pond,A grass bank beyond,A blue sky of clouds on the wing;What a little thingTo remember for years,To remember with tears. 98 RAB AND
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