arry, look here!" exclaimed Uncle Ben, peeping into his
notebook, "here is a big addition sum, I tell you!" He added the numbers,
and they amounted to thirty-two thousand dollars.

30. "There, Harry," said Uncle Ben, "don't you think you are foolish not
to accept some of my offers?" "No, sir, I don't," answered Harry,
resolutely. "Then," said Uncle Ben, "you talk of being poor, and by your
own showing you have treasures for which you will not take thirty-two
thousand dollars. What do you say to that?"

31. Harry didn't know exactly what to say. So he blushed for a second, and
just then tears came rolling down his cheeks, and he threw his chubby arms
around my neck. "Mother," he whispered, "isn't God good to make everybody
so rich?"

DEFINITIONS.--8. Dis-con'so-late, filled with grief. 13.
Re-proach'ful-ly, with censure or reproof. 18. Chlo're-form, an oily
liquid, the vapor of which causes insensibility. 19. Startled, shocked.
De-fi'ant-ly, daringly. 23. Af-ford', to be able to pay for.
Ex-per'i-ments, acts performed to discover some truth. 27.
Ex-cla-ma'tions, expressions of surprise, anger, etc. 28. Ex-ult'ing-ly,
in a triumphant manner. 30. Treas'ures, things which are very much valued.

XXVI. IN TIME'S SWING. (77)

By Lucy Larcom.

1. Father Time, your footsteps go
Lightly as the falling snow.
In your swing I'm sitting, see!
Push me softly; one, two; three,
Twelve times only. Like a sheet,
Spread the snow beneath my feet.
Singing merrily, let me swing
Out of winter into spring.

2. Swing me out, and swing me in!
Trees are bare, but birds begin
Twittering to the peeping leaves,
On the bough beneath the eaves.
Wait,--one lilac bud I saw.
Icy hillsides feel the thaw.
April chased off March to-day;
Now I catch a glimpse of May.

3. Oh, the smell of sprouting grass!
In a blur the violets pass.
Whispering from the wildwood come
Mayflower's breath and insect's hum.
Roses carpeting the ground;
Thrushes, orioles, warbling sound:--
Swing me low, and swing me high,
To the warm clouds of July.

4. Slower now, for at my side
White pond lilies open wide.
Underneath the pine's tall spire
Cardinal blossoms burn like fire.
They are gone; the golden-rod
Flashes from the dark green sod.
Crickets in the grass I hear;
Asters light the fading year.

5. Slower still! October weaves
Rainbows of the forest leaves.
Gent