Name and deed alike are lost : Not a pillar nor a post In his Croisic keeps alive the feat as it befell; 125 Not a head in white and black On a single fishing smack, In memory of the man but for whom had gone to wrack All that France saved from the fight whence England bore the bell. Go to Paris: rank on rank Search the heroes flung pell-mell On the Louvre, face and flank! 130 You shall look long enough ere you come to Hervé Riel 135 So, for better and for worse, Hervé Riel, accept my verse! In my verse, Hervé Riel, do thou once more Save the squadron, honour France, love thy wife, the Belle. Aurore ! The 31st of May. This is the date | Croisickese. The Rance is the river on the east The place. St. Malo. Starboard. The right side of a With flow at full. The tide in the Meet. Fit. Pressed. Compelled to join. ROBERT BROWNING. A man of Le Croisic, a Breton village standing on a narrow point on the northern side of the mouth of the Loire. It now contains about 2000 inhabitants, and is much frequented by visitors. It was while staying at Le Croisic with his sister and his son, in September, 1868, that Browning wrote "Hervé Riel". The poem has been translated into French, and is often recited with great applause, especially at seaside towns. Malouins. People of Malo. Tell. Give a list of. Offing. That part of the sea off from the shore. Grève is only the French word for strand. The position of The you pass on the left (east), first St. Malo, then the tidal basin which separates it from St. Servan, then the point on which la Cité is built. After this you come to Grève, above which is Solidor. I lead. I will lead. Still the north wind. The north wind was still blowing. The Rance at St. Malo runs due north, and if the wind had not blown exactly behind the ships they could never have entered. As its inch. As if its inch. Profound. Deep. Stanch. To stop the flowing of blood. Rake. Fire across. Rampired. Defended by ramparts (mounds of earth). Remains your debtor. You have rendered France so great a service that she can never fully pay you for it. Even when she has done for you whatever you like to ask she will still remain your debtor. Belle Aurore. In English, the beautiful dawn. Are lost. Are forgotten. Head in white and black. A "figure- Wrack. Wreck, ruin. Louvre. A Paris institution cor- Gallery combined. COMPOSITION.-Tell in prose the story of Hervé Riel. LESSON 8. AMONG THE SHOALS. PART I. James Fenimore Cooper (1789-1851), long the most popular novelist of America, was the son of a wealthy lawyer. After completing his education at Yale he entered the United States navy, and served under the stars and stripes for six years. He then left the sea and began writing. His stories divide themselves into two classes,-Indian tales like "The Prairie," "The Pioneers," and "The Last of the Mohicans," and tales of the ocean like "The Pilot". Cooper was a very unequal writer, some of his books being lively and interesting, and others very dull. At his best he excels in the description of incident and scenery, though even at his best he cannot draw character. THE last rope was coiled and deposited in its proper place by the seamen, and for several minutes the stillness of death pervaded the crowded decks. It was evident to every one that the ship was dashing at a prodigious rate through the waves; and as she was approaching with such velocity the quarter of the bay where the shoals and dangers were known to be situated, nothing but the habit of the most exact discipline could suppress the uneasiness of the officers and men within their own bosoms. At length the voice of Captain Munson was heard calling the pilot. "Shall I send a hand into the chains, Mr. Gray," he said, "and try our water?" "Tack your ship, sir; tack your ship; I would see how she works before we reach the point where she must behave well, or we perish." Griffith gazed after him in wonder, while the pilot slowly paced the quarter-deck, and then, rousing from his trance, gave forth the cheering order that called every man to his station to perform the desired evolution. The confident assurance which the young officer had given to the pilot respecting the quality of his vessel, and his own ability to manage her, were fully realised by the result. The helm was no sooner put a-lee, than the huge ship bore up gallantly against the wind, and, dashing directly through the waves, threw the foam high into the air as she looked boldly into the very eye of the wind, and then, yielding gracefully to its power, she fell off on the other tack with her head pointed from those dangerous. shoals that she had so recently approached with such terrifying velocity. The heavy yards swung round as if they had been vanes to indicate the currents of the air, and, in a few moments, the frigate again moved with stately progress through the water, leaving the rocks and shoals behind her on one side of the bay, but advancing towards those that offered equal danger on the other. During this time the sea was becoming more. agitated, and the violence of the wind was gradually increasing. The latter no longer whistled among the cordage of the vessel, but it seemed to howl surlily as it passed the complicated machinery that the frigate obtruded in its path. An endless succession of white surges rose above the heavy billows, and the very air was glittering with the light that was disengaged from the ocean. The ship yielded every moment more and more before the storm, and, in less than half an hour from the time that she had lifted her anchor, she was driven along with tremendous fury by the full power of a gale of wind. Still the hardy and experienced mariners who directed her movements held her to the course that was necessary to their preservation; and still Griffith gave forth, when directed by their unknown pilot, those orders that turned her in the narrow channel where safety was alone to be found. So far the performance of his duty seemed easy to the stranger, and he gave the required directions in those still calm tones that formed so remarkable a contrast to the responsibility of his situation. But when the land was becoming dim, in the distance as well as in darkness, and the agitated sea was only to be discovered as it swept by them in foam, he broke in upon the monotonous roaring of the tempest with the sounds of his voice, seeming to shake off his apathy, and rouse himself to the occasion. "Now is the time to watch her closely, Mr. Griffith," he cried; "here we get the true tide and the real danger. Place the best quarter-master in your ship in those chains, and let an officer stand by him and see that he gives us the right water." "I will take that office on myself," said the captain; "pass a light into the weather main-chains!" "Stand by your braces!" exclaimed the pilot with startling quickness. "Heave away that lead!" These preparations taught the crew to expect the crisis, and every officer and man stood in fearful silence, at his assigned station, awaiting the issue of the trial. Even the quarter-master gave out his orders to the men at the wheel in deeper and hoarser tones than usual, as if anxious not to disturb the quiet and order of the vessel. While this deep expectation pervaded the frigate, the piercing cry of the leadsman, as he called, "By the mark, seven!" rose above the tempest, crossed over the decks, and appeared to pass away to leeward, borne on the blast like the warnings of some water-spirit. "Tis well," returned the pilot calmly; "try it again." 66 The short pause was succeeded by another cry, "And a half five!" She shoals! she shoals!" exclaimed Griffith; "keep her a good full!" "Ay, you must hold the vessel in command now," said the pilot, with those cool tones that are most appalling in critical moments, because they seem to denote most preparation and care. The third call of "By the deep four!" was followed by a prompt direction from the stranger to tack. Griffith seemed to emulate the coolness of the pilot, in issuing the necessary orders to execute this manœuvre. The vessel rose slowly from the inclined position |