And now for the first time he was aware Besides themselves there was a Presence there, Which made his blood run cold, but did not shake His resolution that, for the king's sake, 95 His boy must perish. So he said, "I go," And like the swiftest arrow from his bow The phantom vanished, and he went to bring 100 Ran to her lord, fallen upon the ground: And while she lifted his dead weight, and wound Her arms around him, and her tears did rain, 104 Kissed his cold lips, till, warmed, they kissed her own again. Meanwhile the sentinel down the royal park Groped his way homeward, stumbling in the dark, Uncertain of himself and all about; For the low branches were as hands thrust out— But whether to urge faster or delay, 110 Since they both clutched and pushed, he could not say; Nor, so irregular his heart's wild beat, Whether he ran, or dragged his lagging feet! When, half a league being over, he was near His poor mean hut, there broke upon his ear— 115 As from a child who wakes in dreams of pain, And, while its parents listen, sleeps again— A cry like Father! Whence, and whose, the cry? What if some robber with the boy had fled? 120 What dreadful thought!—what if the boy were dead? He reached the door in haste, and found it barred, As when at set of sun he went on guard, Shutting the lad in from all nightly harms, As safe as in the loving mother s arms 125 Which could no longer fold him: all was fast, Thrust its sharp crescent through the starless gloom With pitiless brightness, and himself with dread— 135 Poor, childless man !—for there his child was dead! He spake not, wept not, stirred not; one might say, Till that first awful moment passed away, He was not, but some dead man in his place Must find as sudden a relief, or break— Thereafter kneeling softly by the bed, Face buried, and hands wrung above his head, 150 At last he rose, and lifting to his heart Its precious burden-limbs that drooped apart— "What was it, soldier?" "God preserve the King! 'Twas nothing." "Tell me quickly." "A small thing Not worth your hearing. In the park I found "I followed, and know all. So young to die— 160 165 170 175 180 From the poems of RICHARD HENRY STODDARD, by permission of Messrs. CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS. Teberistan. dom? An imaginary king- | A moon of nights. A month. Khojend. A town in Russian Claps his hands. In the East the What word is Vizier. Chief minister. COMPOSITION.-Tell in prose the story of Sentinel ". "The King's LESSON 22. PAID IN HIS OWN COIN. The James Morier (1780-1849) was for some years in the English embassy at the Persian Court; and the knowledge of the manners and customs of the East thus acquired led him to write, first travels and then novels dealing with the places and persons that he had seen. best of his tales are "Hajji Baba of Ispahan," and its continuation, "Hajji Baba in England". The novelty of the style, the freshness and truth of the descriptions, and the brightness of the humour secured for these a ready welcome in the days of George IV. IN the reign of the Caliph Haroun al Rashid, of happy memory, there lived in the city of Bagdad a celebrated barber, of the name of Ali Sakal. He was so famous for a steady hand, and dexterity in his profession, that he could shave a head, and trim a beard and whiskers, with his eyes blindfolded, without once drawing blood. There was not a man of any fashion at Bagdad who did not employ him; and such a run of business had he, that at last he became proud and insolent, and would scarcely ever touch a head whose master was not at least a Beg or an Aga. Wood for fuel was always scarce and dear at Bagdad, and, as his shop consumed a great deal, the woodcutters brought their loads to him in preference, almost sure of meeting with a ready sale. It happened one day that a poor woodcutter, new in his profession, and ignorant of the character of Ali Sakal, went to his shop, and offered him for sale a load of wood, which he had just brought from a considerable distance in the country, on his ass. immediately offered him a price, making use of these words: For all the wood that was upon the ass ". Ali The woodcutter agreed, unloaded his beast, and asked for the money. "You have not given me all the wood yet," said the barber; "I must have the pack-saddle (which is chiefly made of wood) into the bargain that was our agreement." "How!" said the other, in great amazement; "who ever heard of such a bargain? It is impossible." In short, after many words and much altercation, the overbearing barber seized the pack-saddle, wood and all, and sent away the poor peasant in great distress. He immediately ran to the cadi, and stated his griefs the cadi was one of the barber's customers, and refused to hear the case. The woodcutter went to a higher judge; he also patronised Ali Sakal, and made light of the complaint. The poor man then appealed to the mufti himself, who, having pondered over the question, at length settled that it was too difficult a case for him to decide, no provision being made for it in the Koran: and therefore he must put up with his loss. The woodcutter was not disheartened; but forthwith got a scribe to write a petition to the caliph himself, which he duly presented on Friday, the day when he went in state to the mosque. The caliph's punctuality in reading petitions is well known, and it was not long before the woodcutter was called to his presence. When he had approached the caliph, he kneeled and kissed the ground; and then placing his arms straight before him, his hands covered with the sleeves of his cloak and his feet close together, he awaited the decision of his case. "Friend," said the caliph, "the barber has words on his side-you have equity on yours. The law must be defined by words, and agreements must be made in words: the former must have its course, or it is nothing, and agreements must be kept, or there would be |