The year is going-let him go:
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,

For those that here we see no more;
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,

And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,

The faithless coldness of the times;

Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,

But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease,

Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,

The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Questions: Who wrote this? What is meant by Poet Laureate? What is the influence of Tennyson's writings on English poetry at the present day? What kind of composition do you call this? What year is dying? Explain first two lines of third stanza. Explain "The faithless coldness of the times." "The narrowing lust of gold."

saps feud

redress minstrel civic lust rhymes

BUTTERED ON BOTH SIDES.

NE winter evening, a country store-keeper in the

ΟΝΕ

Green Mountain State was about closing his doors for the night, when, while standing in the snow outside, putting up his window shutters, he saw through the glass a worthless fellow within, take half-a-pound of fresh butter from the shelf, and hastily conceal it in his hat.

The act was no sooner seen than the revenge was hit upon, and a very few moments found the Green Mountain store-keeper, at once indulging his appetite for fun to the fullest extent, and paying off the thief with a sort of torture for which he might have gained a premium.

"Stay, Seth!" said the storekeeper, coming in, and closing the door after him, slapping his hands over his shoulders, and stamping the snow off his shoes.

Seth had his hand on the door, and his hat upon his head, and the roll of butter in his hat, anxious to make his exit as soon as possible.

"Seth, we'll have something warm," said the Green Mountain grocer, as he opened the stove door and stuffed in as many sticks as the space would admit. "Without it you'd freeze going home such a night as this."

Seth felt very uncertain; he had the butter, and was exceedingly anxious to be off, but the temptation of "something warm" sadly interfered with his resolution to go. This hesitation, however, was soon settled by the right owner of the butter taking Seth by the shoulders and planting him in a seat close to the stove, where he was in such a manner cornered in by barrels and boxes that, while the country, grocer sat before him, there was no possibility of his getting out, and right in this very place, sure enough, the storekeeper sat down.

Seth already felt the butter settling down closer to his hair, and he declared he must go.

"Not till you have something warm, Seth: come I've got a story to tell you, Seth: sit down now;" and Seth was again pushed into his seat by his cunning tormentor. "Oh! it's too hot here," said the petty thief, again attempting to rise.

"I say, Seth, sit down; I reckon now, on such a night as this, a little something warm wouldn't hurt a fellow; come, sit down."

Sit down- don't be in such a plaguy hurry," repeated the grocer, pushing him back in his chair.

"But I've got the cows to fodder, and some wood to split, and I must be off," continued the persecuted pilferer.

"But you mustn't tear yourself away, Seth, in this manner. Sit down; let the cows take care of themselves, and keep yourself cool; you appear to be fidgety," said the roguish grocer, with a wicked leer.

The next thing was the production of two smoking glasses of hot rum toddy, the very sight of which in Seth's present situation would have made the hair erect upon his head, had it not been oiled and kept down by the butter.

"Seth, I'll give you a toast now, and you can butter it yourself," said the grocer, yet with an air of such consummate simplicity, that poor Seth still believed himself unsuspected. "Seth, here's-here's Christmas goose, well roasted and basted, eh? I tell you, Seth, it's the greatest eating in creation. And, Seth, don't you use hog's fat or common cooking butter to baste a goose with. Come, take your butter-I mean, Seth, take your toddy."

Poor Seth now began to smoke as well as to melt, and his mouth was as hermetically sealed up as though he

had been born dumb. Streak after streak of the butter. came pouring from under his hat, and his handkerchief was already soaked with the greasy overflow. Talking away as if nothing was the matter, the grocer kept stuffing the wood into the stove, while poor Seth sat bolt upright, with his back against the counter, and his knees almost touching the red-hot furnace before him.

"Very cold night this," said the grocer; "why Seth, you seem to perspire as if you were warm! Why don't you take your hat off? Here, let me put your hat away."

"No!" exclaimed poor Seth at last, with a spasmodic effort to get his tongue loose, and clapping both hands upon his hat, "No!-I must go - let me out - I ain't well -let me go!" A greasy cataract was now pouring down the poor fellow's face and neck, and soaking into his clothes, and trickling down his body into his very boots, so that he was literally in a perfect bath of oil.

"Well, good night, Seth," said the humorous Vermonter, "if you will go;" adding, as Seth got out into the road, "Neighbor, I reckon the fun I've had out of you is worth ten cents, so I shall not charge you for that half-pound of butter.”

COMPOSITION.

Describe the grocer's store, naming as many articles as possible, with the position of each. Give a particular account of the stove and its location. Tell why stoves give so much heat; and why is the heat soon lost.

Questions: - Which is the Green Mountain State? Why so called?

ERIN'S FLAG.

Rev. Abram J. Ryan unites the characters of priest, poet and orater, The poet's spirit pervades and beautifies his eloquent sermons; the orator's fire flashes through his poems, and religion in the character of the priest gives dignity and inspiration to both. His po ms neel not be read twice to convince one that they are the true offspring of the muse. Patriotism, sufferings of the "Lost Cause," to which he was devotedly attached; and the sorrows, hopes and resignation of the christian life are the chief subjects of his muse. There is a tinge of romantic sadness in all his reflective verses. Life is a real "vale of tears," and the Christian's longing for heaven is that of a real exile after a once-enjoyed home.

[NROLL Erin's flag! fling its folds to the breeze,

Let it float o'er the land, let it flash o'er the seas,
Lift it out of the dust, let it wave as of yore,

When its chiefs with their clans stood around it and swore
That never! no! never, while God gave them life,
And they had an arm and a sword for the strife,
That never! no! never, that banner should yield
As long as the heart of a Celt was its shield;
While the hand of a Celt had a weapon to wield,
And his last drop of blood was unshed on the field.

Lift it up! wave it high! 'tis as bright as of old!
Not a stain on its green, nor a blot on its gold

Though the woes and the wrongs of three hundred long years
Have drenched Erin's Sunburst with blood and with tears!
Though the clouds of oppression enshroud it in gloom,
And around it the thunders of tyranny boom,

Look aloft! look aloft! lo! the cloud's drifting by,
There's a gleam through the gloom, there's a light in the sky,
"Tis the Sunburst resplendent far, flashing on high,
Erin's dark night is waning; her day-dawn is nigh.

Lift it up! lift it up! the old banner of green!
The blood of its sons has but brightened its sheen;
What! though the tyrant has trampled it down,