heifer's lowing,--
And hark! how clear bold chanticleer,
Warmed with the new wine of the year,
Tells all in his lusty crowing.
--Lowell.

III. AUTUMN.

Thomas Hood, author of the following selection, was born in 1798, at
London, where he was editor of the "London Magazine," and died in 1845. He
is best known as a humorist, but some of his poems are full of tender
feeling.

The autumn is old;
The sear leaves are flying;
He hath gathered up gold
And now he is dying:
Old age, begin sighing!

The year's in the wane;
There is nothing adorning;
The night has no eve,
And the day has no morning;
Cold winter gives warning.

IV. WINTER.

Charles T. Brooks translated the following selection from the original by
the German poet, Ludwig Holty. Mr. Brooks was born at Salem, Mass., in
1813. After graduation at Harvard he entered the ministry. He translated
much from the German, both of poetry and prose. He died in 1883.

Now no plumed throng
Charms the wood with song;
Icebound trees are glittering;
Merry snowbirds, twittering,
Fondly strive to cheer
Scenes so cold and drear.

Winter, still I see
Many charms in thee,
Love thy chilly greeting,
Snowstorms fiercely beating,
And the dear delights
Of the long, long nights.

LXXXV. BRANDYWINE FORD. (239)

Bayard Taylor was born at Kennett Square, Penn., in 1825. He received a
limited school education, but at an early age displayed great energy and
talent. He was a great traveler, and a fluent, graceful writer, both of
prose and verse. Mr. Taylor held high official positions under the
government. The following selection is adapted from "The Story of
Kennett," He died in 1878.

1. The black, dreary night, seemed interminable. He could only guess, here
and there, at a landmark, and was forced to rely more upon Roger's
instinct of the road than upon the guidance of his senses. Toward
midnight, as he judged, by the solitary crow of a cock, the rain almost
entirely ceased.

2. The wind began to blow sharp and keen, and the hard vault of the sky to
lift a little. He fancied that the hills on his right had fallen away, and
that the horizon was suddenly depressed towards the north. Roger's feet
began to splash in constantly deepening water, and presently a roar,
distinct from that of the wind, filled the air.

3. It was the Brandywine. The stream had overflowed its broad meadow
bottoms, and was running hig