37. With what voice does the avalanche | heard in its descent from these peaks to speak? the clouds ? 38. What destruction do avalanches sometimes occasion ? 39. Why "livery flowers"? 40. What is said of the wild goats,-of the eagles, of the lightnings? 41. How high up do clouds usually rest? (Ans. Clouds are most frequently less than a mile in height). 42. Are not the "sky-pointing peaks" much higher than this? 43. Will the avalanche be seen and 44. Why will they not be seen and heard there? 45. What are the duties of an ambassador? 46. In what way are these done by this mountain? 47. By what titles is the mountain addressed in the last few lines? 48. What were the duties of the ancient High Priest in the Temple ? 49. What is this Hierarch called on to do? Sleekit-sleek. XXVIII.-LINES TO A MOUSE. Beastie-little beast. The termina- Whyles-sometimes. Win's-winds. The final conson- Big-build. Hald-abiding place, home. Daimen icker-an ear of corn oc- Thole-endure. casionally. Thrave-twenty-four sheaves. Lave-leaving, the rest. Wee bit housie-little bit of a house. Cranreuch-hoar-frost. No' thy lane-not alone. Gang aft a-gley-go often wrong. WEE, sleekit, cowerin, timorous beastie, I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee, I'm truly sorry man's dominion Which maks thee startle At me, thy poor earth-born companion, I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve; 'S a sma' request; I'll get a blessin' wi' the lave, And never miss't! Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin! An' bleak December's winds ensuin', Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste, An' cozie here, beneath the blast, Thou thought to dwell, Till crash! the cruel coulter pass'd That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble, To thole the winter's sleety dribble XXIX. THE MITHERLESS BAIRN. Bairnie-diminutive of bairn, a | Airn-iron. child. Sairly forfairn-sorely distressed, Frecky eager, ready. Dowie-worn out with grief. destitute. Haps-wraps, covers up. Lithless comfortless. Clutches-i.e. pulls at his hair. Hackit heelies-heels chapped with Couthilie-kindly. the cold. WHEN a' ither bairnies are hushed to their hame Aneath his cauld brow, siccan dreams hover there, The sister who sang o'er his saftly rocked bed, Her spirit that passed in yon hour of his birth Oh! speak him na harshly-he trembles the while, XXX.-THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT. ROBERT BURNS was born January 25th 1759, in a clay-built cottage, raised by his father's own hands, on the banks of the Doon, in the district of Kyle, Ayrshire. At the age of six he was sent to school, and appears to have been a diligent little student. At an early age he assisted his father in his farming business, continuing his education at intervals. When about twenty, he composed several of the poems which afterwards distinguished his name. After various domestic trials, when on the point of leaving England for Jamaica, where he had got a situation, the publication of his poems awakened so much interest in their author, that he abandoned his purpose, and after an unsuccessful experiment in farming, obtained an appointment in the excise. He died at Dumfries, in the year 1796, at the early age of 37 years. The following remarks are by Dr. Currie, the early biographer of Burns. "The Cotter's Saturday Night is tender and moral, solemn and devotional, and rises at length into a strain of grandeur and sublimity which modern poetry has not surpassed. The noble sentiments of patriotism, with which it concludes, correspond with the rest of the poem. In no age or country have the pastoral muses breathed such elevated accents, if the Messiah of Pope be excepted, which is indeed a pastora! in form only." Hawkie-cow. Sugh, means, the continued rush- | Halesome-healthful, wholesome, ing noise of wind or water. Stacher-stagger. Flichtering fluttering. Ingle-fire. Belyve-by and by. Tentie-heedful, cautious. Braw-fine, handsome. Spiers-inquires. Uncos-news. Gars-makes. Claes-clothes. Eydent-diligent. Hallan-a particular partition wall Weel-hain'd-well-spared. Kebbuck-cheese. Towmond-twelvemonth Sin' lint was i' the bell-since the flax was in flower. Big ha' Bible-the great Bible that Lyart haffets-gray temples. Beets-adds fuel to fire. NOVEMBER chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh; And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend. At length his lonely cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree; Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher through His wee bit ingle, blinkin' bonnily, His clean hearth-stane, his thriftie wifie's smile, The lisping infant prattling on his knee, Does a' his weary carking cares beguile, Belyve, the elder bairns come drapping in, Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman grown, To help her parents dear, if they in hardship be. Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new ; Their maister's an' their mistress's command, An' mind your duty, duly, morn an' night! They never sought in vain that sought the Lord aright!" The soupe their only hawkie does afford, That 'yont the hallan snugly chows her cood; The frugal wifie, garrulous, will tell, ; How 'twas a towmond auld, sin' lint was i' the bell. |