I sprang up, and caught my brother about the ankles. I hardly
think that an Indian could have given a louder yell than he gave then; and
he jumped so that he fell off the log down by my side. But nobody was
hurt; and, after kissing me till he had kissed away all my tears, he
hoisted me on to his shoulder, called my other brothers, who were hunting
in different directions, and we all set out for home.

17. I had been gone nearly three hours, and had wandered a number of
miles. My brother Joseph's coming and asking for me, had first set them to
inquiring and searching me out. When I went into the room where my brother
Rufus sat, he said, "Why, my poor little sister! I did not mean to send
you off on such a wild-goose chase to the end of the rainbow. I thought
you would know I was only quizzing you."

18. Then my eldest brother took me on his knee, and told me what the
rainbow really is: that it is only painted air, and does not rest on the
earth, so nobody could ever find the end; and that God has set it in the
cloud to remind him and us of his promise never again to drown the world
with a flood. "Oh, I think God's Promise would be a beautiful name for the
rainbow!" I said.

19. "Yes," replied my mother, "but it tells us something more than that he
will not send great floods upon the earth,--it tells us of his beautiful
love always bending over us from the skies. And I trust that when my
little girl sets forth on a pilgrimage to find God's love, she will be led
by the rainbow of his promise through all the dark places of this world to
'treasures laid up in heaven,' better, far better, than silver or gold."

DEFINITIONS.--2. Re-cov'er-ing, growing well. 3. Win'ter--green, a
creeping evergreen plant with bright red berries. 6. Im--posed', (used
with on or upon), deceived, misled. 7. Drab'-bling, making dirty by
drawing in mud and water. 10. Por'cu--pine, a small quadruped whose body
is covered with sharp quills. 11. Pil'grim-age, journey. 15. Moc'ca-sins,
shoes of deerskin without soles, such as are usually worn by Indians. 17.
Quiz'zing, making sport of.

LXXII. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. (202)

By Samuel Woodworth, who was born in Massachusetts in 1785. He was both
author and editor. This is his best known poem. He died in 1842.

1. How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view!
The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wildwood,
And every loved s