7. My servant-boy, with a reserve gun, was ten or twelve yards off-a long way at such a moment; but no more time was lost than could be avoided in exchanging guns with him. I turned back as quickly as possible, and at this instant the elephant seized the collector and lifted him off the ground. I instantly leveled my gun, in the hope that a chance of saving him might offer.

8. The beast turned partly around the tree, still holding the collector in the grasp of his trunk, and I saw that I had a clear shot at his head. I fired, and struck him, the ball entering his left eye. He staggered, stumbled, let the collector fall, and made off without trampling on him. I then rushed forward, intending to discharge my second barrel; but, some objects coming between the elephant and me, he escaped, and I lost sight of him entirely.

9. The collector now lay apparently lifeless on the ground. A painful sensation of dizziness nearly overpowered me. I went toward him: he moved, and assisted himself by taking hold of a tree. I then hastened, and found him like one risen from the grave, pale as death. I saw blood-but it was that of the elephant— dropping from his brow.

10. Never shall I forget my feelings when I saw the monster rushing on him, still less those when I saw the brute's huge trunk twine round and take him up. All this occurred in less than a minute. The collector was, of course, very faint. We gave up the pursuit, and got some brandy-and-water, which revived him. He told us that he had advanced till within six yards of the elephant, and then fired, thinking that, as usual, it would retreat, instead of which it charged him.

11. He then fired a second time, within three yards of the beast, and fled; but the animal gained upon him: he threw his gun at it, and tried to run round a tree; but it was too cunning, and ran round the tree also, seized him by the neck, and threw him down. It then attempted to gore him. Luckily, the tusks stuck into the ground on each side of him, and thus he was preserved.

12. The collector then felt the brute take him up in his trunk; he heard my shot, and immediately found himself on the ground. He quietly lay there a second or two, then inclined himself slightly, and perceived that the elephant's back was toward him. The animal must have carried away at least twenty balls. Perhaps he was led to select the collector on account of his being dressed in bright white jean.

13. Four days after our exploit, a report reached us that some hunters had killed the elephant, which had continued to wander about the place where he had been wounded. It was fourteen feet long from the root of the tail to the joining of the trunk to the head, and eleven feet high. My balls had struck in the neck and left eye, and the head was terribly marked with shots.

Library of Entertaining Knowledge.

FOR PREPARATION.-I. Find, on your map, Tinnevelly, in the southern part of Hindostan. What European nation governs this part of India? (English.)

II. Neigh'-bor-hood (nã'-), pro-çeed'-ed, sep'-a-rat-ed, has'-tened (hās ́nd), pur-suit' (-sūt').

III. Arrange a list of the action-words in the first three paragraphs, writing out their several forms in parallel columns: in the first column, write the form denoting present time and a single person spoken of; in the

second column, present time and more than one person spoken of; in the third column, past time. E. g.:

IV. Intelligence, flanked, jungle, reanimated, collector, ravine, excitement, slight, accident, occasioned, sensation, intense, percussion-cap, dismay, trumps, vital, reserve, avoided, levcled, revived, gore, tusks, inclined, jean, report, mangled.

V. Write an analysis of this piece (merely naming the several items, thus: September 2, 1832, wild elephants appear near Tinnevelly; hunting party formed; ride to the place-rice-fields and jungle; delay; elephants heard, tracks seen, but no elephant; false alarms; impatience; shots fired by the collector; elephants seen up the ravine, etc.).

XXVIII. THE BAREFOOT BOY.

1. Blessings on thee, little man—
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And thy merry whistled tunes;
With thy red lip, redder still,
Kissed by strawberries on the hill;
With the sunshine on thy face,
Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace;
From my heart I give thee joy!
I was once a barefoot boy!

2. Oh, for boyhood's painless play,
Sleep that wakes in laughing day,
Health that mocks the doctor's rules;
Knowledge, never learned of schools,
Of the wild bee's morning chase,
Of the wild flower's time and place,

Flight of fowl, and habitude
Of the tenants of the wood;
How the tortoise bears his shell,
How the woodchuck digs his cell,
And the ground-mole sinks his well;

3. How the robin feeds her young,
How the oriole's nest is hung;
Where the whitest lilies blow,
Where the freshest berries grow,
Where the ground-nut trails its vine;
Where the wood-grape's clusters shine;
Of the black wasp's cunning way,
Mason of his walls of clay.

4. Oh, for boyhood's time of June,
Crowding years in one brief moon,
When all things I heard or saw
Me, their master, waited for!
I was rich in flowers and trees,
Humming-birds and honey-bees;
For my sport the squirrel played,
Plied the snouted mole his spade;

5. Laughed the brook for my delight,
Through the day and through the night,
Whispering at the garden-wall,
Talked with me from fall to fall;
Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel-pond,
Mine the walnut-slopes beyond.

6. Oh, for festal dainties spread,
Like my bowl of milk and bread-

Pewter spoon and bowl of wood,
On the door-stone, gray and rude!
O'er me, like a regal tent,
Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent,
Purple-curtained, fringed with gold,
Looped in many a wind-swung fold;
While for music came the play
Of the pied frogs' orchestra;
And, to light the noisy choir,
Lit the fly his lamp of fire.
I was monarch: pomp and joy
Waited on the barefoot boy!

7. Cheerily, then, my little man,
Live and laugh, as boyhood can!
Though the flinty slopes be hard,
Stubble-speared the new-mown sward,
Every morn shall lead thee through
Fresh baptisms of the dew;
Every evening from thy feet

Shall the cool wind kiss the heat.

8. All too soon these feet must hide
In the prison-cells of pride,
Lose the freedom of the sod,
Like a colt's for work be shod,
Made to tread the mills of toil,
Up and down in ceaseless moil:
Happy, if their track be found
Never on forbidden ground;
Happy, if they sink not in

Quick and treacherous sands of sin.
Ah! that thou couldst know thy joy,
Ere it passes, barefoot boy!

John G. Whittier.