gathers his warriors from
every hand, and lays siege to Detroit. He is defeated, and with his
defeat, the power of the Indian tribes is at an end."

In the last two sentences, change the verbs so as to represent future
time.

Let pupils make out an _analysis_ and use it in treating the subject--

_The town (or city) that I live in._

_Suggestion_.--Include the location and early history of the town. Its
present population. Its different manufactures. How to get to it. Its
chief points of interest to a stranger. Anecdotes.

* * * * *

LESSON LXVIII.

heave, _raise; lift_.

mack'er el, _a fish spotted with blue, and largely used for food_.

con geals', _freezes; grows hard from cold_.

ant'lers, _branching horns_.

a main', _suddenly; at once_.

lurks, _lies hidden_.

reels, _frames for winding fishing lines_.

teem'ing, _containing in abundance_.

car'i bou, _a kind of reindeer_.

Mick'mack, _a tribe of Indians_.

* * * * *

THE FISHERMEN.

Hurra! the seaward breezes
Sweep down the bay amain;
Heave up, my lads, the anchor!
Run up the sail again!
Leave to the lubber landsmen
The rail-car and the steed;
The stars of heaven shall guide us
The breath of heaven shall speed.

From the hill-top looks the steeple,
And the light-house from the sand;
And the scattered pines are waving
Their farewell from the land.
One glance, my lads, behind us,
For the homes we leave, one sigh,
Ere we take the change and chances
Of the ocean and the sky.

Where in mist the rock is hiding,
And the sharp reef lurks below,
And the white squall smites in summer,
And the autumn tempests blow;
Where, through gray and rolling vapor,
From evening unto morn,
A thousand boats are hailing,
Horn answering unto horn.

Hurra! for the Red Island,
With the white cross on its crown!
Hurra! for Meccatina,
And its mountains bare and brown!
Where the caribou's tall antlers
O'er the dwarf-wood freely toss,
And the footsteps of the Mickmack
Have no sound upon the moss.

There we'll drop our lines, and gather
Old ocean's treasures in,
Where'er the mottled mackerel
Turns up a steel-dark fin.
The sea's our field of harvest,
Its scaly tribes our grain;
We'll reap the teeming waters
As at home they reap the plain.

Th