LESSON LXXV.

TOM BROWN AT THE MASTER'S TOMB.

Con'jured, raised up; produced, | Rooks, birds belonging to the

as if by magic.

crow family.

Věs'ti bule, the porch or en- Sub serip'tion, the act of signtrance into a house; a hall; an ing or subscribing; a paper to ante-chamber. which names are signed.

E was lying on the very spot where the fights came off; where he himself had fought six years ago his first and last battle. He conjured up the scene till he could almost hear the shouts of the ring, and East's whisper in his ear; and, looking across the close to the Doctor's private door, half expected to see it open, and the tall figure in cap and gown come striding under the elm trees towards him.

2. No, no! that sight could never be seen again. There was no flag flying on the round tower; the schoolhouse windows were all shuttered up; and when the flag went up again, and the shutters came down, it would be to welcome a stranger. All that was left on earth of him whom he had honored, was lying cold and still under the chapel floor.

3. He would go in and see the place once more, and then leave it once for all. New men and new methods might do for other people; let those who would worship the rising star, he at least would be faithful to the sun which had set. So he got up, and walked to the chapel door and unlocked it, fancying himself the only mourner in all the broad land, and feeding on his own selfish sorrow.

4. He passed through the vestibule, and then paused

for a moment to glance over the empty benches. His heart was still proud and high, and he walked up to the seat which he had last occupied as a sixth-form boy, and sat himself down there to collect his thoughts.

5. And, truth to tell, they needed collecting and setting in order not a little. The memories of eight years were all dancing through his brain, and carrying him about whither they would; while beneath them all, his heart was throbbing with the dull sense of a loss that could never be made up to him. The rays of the evening sun came solemnly through the painted windows above his head, and fell in gorgeous colors on the opposite wall, and the perfect stillness soothed his spirit by little and little.

6. And he turned to the pulpit, and looked at it, and then, leaning forward, with his head on his hands, groaned aloud-"If he could only have seen the Doctor again for one five minutes, to have told him all that was in his heart, what he owed to him, how he loved and reverenced him, and would, by God's help, follow his steps in life and death, he could have borne it all without a murmur; but that he should have gone away forever without knowing it at all, was too much to bear.

7. "But am I sure that he does not know it all?"the thought made him start-"May he not even now be near me, in this very chapel? If he be, am I sorrowing as he would have me sorrow- -as I shall wish to have sorrowed when I shall meet him again?"

8. He raised himself up and looked round; and after a minute rose and walked humbly down to the lowest bench, and sat down on the very seat which he had occupied on his first Sunday at Rugby. And then the old memories rushed back again, but softened and sub

dued, and soothing him as he let himself be carried away by them.

9. He looked up at the great painted window above the altar, and remembered how, when a little boy, he used to try not to look through it at the elm trees and the rooks, before the painted glass came—and the subscription for the painted glass, and the letter he wrote home for money to give to it. And there, down below, was the name of the boy who sat on his right hand cn that first day, scratched rudely in the oak paneling.

10. And then came the thought of all his old schoolfellows; and form after form of boys, nobler, and braver, and purer than he, rose up and seemed to rebuke him. Could he not think of them, and what they had felt and were feeling; they who had honored and loved from the first, the man whom he had taken years to know and love? Could he not think of those yet dearer to him who was gone, who bore his name and shared his blood, and were now without a husband or a father?

11. Then the grief which he began to share with others became gentle and holy, and he rose up once more, and walked up the steps to the altar; and while the tears flowed freely down his cheeks, knelt down humbly and hopefully, to lay down there his share of a burden which had proved itself too heavy for him to bear in his own strength.

-

12. Here let us leave him where better could we leave him, than at the altar, before which he had first caught a glimpse of the glory of his birthright, and felt the drawing of the bond which links all living souls together in one brotherhood-at the grave beneath the altar of him who had opened his eyes to see that glory, and softened his heart till it could feel that bond? THOMAS HUGHES.

LESSON LXXVI.

O'NEIL'S BUFFALO HUNT.

En vi'roned, surrounded; en- | Dis çi'ple, a scholar; a pupil.

W

E were encamped at Bald Buttes and found it an excellent ground for hunting buffalo and trapping beaver. The weather was delightful, and, although environed by peril from hostile Indians and subjected to considerable hardship, we plunged into the excitements of the chase with joyful zest.

2. Among our number was a man by the name of O'Neil, a recent arrival in the country, and, of course, unaccustomed to the wild life of the West. Like most of his countrymen, he was a man of native wit and enterprise, and early manifested a desire to become proficient in hunting. It was not long before he got his first lesson as a disciple of Nimrod, which, as the sequel will show, proved also his last.

3. We instructed him that every man who went out of camp after game, was expected to bring in meat of some kind, or be disgraced as a hunter and subjected to the ridicule of his companions. O'Neil said he would agree to the terms and was ready to make his first attempt that evening. He picked up his rifle and

started for a small herd of mountain buffalo in plain sight, only three or four hundred yards from camp.

4. We were all busy setting up our new camp, some of us erecting tents and some cooking supper, when we heard O'Neil's rifle in the distance, and shortly after he came running into camp, bare-headed, without his gun, and a mad buffalo close after him in pursuit. 5. It was a glorious race.

Both were going at full

speed, and O'Neil had every inducement to win in order to save himself from impalement upon the horns of his furious pursuer. As he neared the tents, his hair electrified with fright and his eyes bulging from their sockets, he bawled, "Here we come! Stop us! For the love of heaven, stop us!"

6. Just as they dashed into camp, the buffalo not