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8.-THE CAMEL.

clim-ate nour-ish-ment har-nesa

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No creature seems so well fitted to the climate in which it exists as the Camel. We cannot doubt the nature of the one has been adapted to that of the other by the wise Creator. The camel, being designed to dwell in a country where he can find little nourishment, nature has been sparing of her materials in the whole of his formation. She has not bestowed upon him the plump fleshiness of the ox, horse, or elephant, but limiting herself to what is strictly necessary, she has given him a small head without ears, at the end of a long neck without flesh. She has taken from his legs and thighs every muscle not immediately requisite for motion; and, in short, has bestowed on his withered body only the vessels and tendons necessary to connect his frame together.

She has furnished him with a strong jaw, that he may grind the hardest food; but lest he should eat too much, she has given him a small stomach, and

obliged him to chew the cud.. She has lined his foot with a lump of flesh, which, 'sliding in the mud, and being in no way suited for climbing, fits him only for a dry, level, and sandy soil, like that of Arabia. She must have meant him to be a slave, for she has refused him every sort of defence against his enemies.

With neither the horns of the bull, the hoofs of the horse, the tooth of the elephant, or the swiftness of the stag, how can the camel resist or avoid the attacks of the lion, the tiger, or even the wolf ? Tamed by man, he renders habitable the most barren soil the world contains. He alone supplies all his master's wants. The milk of the camel feeds the family of

. the Arab, under the various forms of curds, cheese, and butter ; and they often eat his flesh. Slippers and harnesses are made of his skin, and tents and clothing of his hair. He carries heavy burdens—and can live on a few stalks of brambles, wormwood, or pounded date kernels. So great is the importance of the camel to the desert that no one could live there without that useful animal.

When this poor animal's strength fails him, and he dies on the road, no one can help pitying him. He is so patient, that he pursues his journey and never shows that he is tired, so long as he can bear his own weight. When he can do that no longer, he drops on the ground. His master may pet him ever so, or beat him, but he can never rise again—his strength is gone, and he dies very fast. Even the Arabs, who are not kind-hearted, feel the loss of this faithful servant.

Adapted from Volney.

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A flock of sheep were feeding in a field whilst the dogs which watched them were asleep, and their shepherd a long way off, playing on his pipe under the shade of a large elm tree. A young lamb which knew nothing of the world, saw a half-starved wolf peeping through the hedge, and began to talk to him. “Pray, what are you seeking here?" asked the lamb. am looking,” replied the wolf, " for some tender grass, , for nothing you know is more agreeable than to feed in a fresh pasture and drink in a clear stream. I see you enjoy both these comforts here. Happy creature, how much I envy your lot-you have everything in the world that I would like to have, for I have been taught to make very little do."

" It seems then," answered the lamb," that those who say you feed on flesh, accuse you falsely, since a little grass will easily content you. If this be true, let 118 for the future live like brethren, and feed together."

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So saying the simple lamb imprudently crept through the fence, and was at once eaten up by the wolf,

Æsop.

10.-SONGS OF SEVEN-SEVEN TIMES ONE.

dai-sies pow-der-ed

pou-der-ed sailing

dai-sies

pow-der-ed

sail-ing

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There's no dew left on the daisies or clover,

There's no rain left in heaven:
I've said my “seven times” over and over,

Seven times one are seven.

I am old, so old, I can write a letter

; My birthday lessons are done ; The lambs play always, they know no better ;

They are only one times one.

O moon! in the night I have seen you sailing,

And shining so round and low; You were bright! Ah bright! but your light is

You are nothing now but a bow. [failingYou moon, have you done something wrong in heaven,

That God has hidden your face?
I hope if you have you will soon be forgiven,

And shine again in your place.
O velvet bee, you ’re a dusty fellow,

You ’ve powdered your legs with gold I
O brave marsh mary-buds, rich and yellow-

Give me your money to hold !
O columbine, open your folded wrapper,

Where two twin turtle-doves dwell !
O cuckoo pint, toll me the purple clapper

That hangs in your clear green bell !
And show me your nest with the young ones in it,

I will not steal them away.
I am old, you may trust me, linnet, linnet-
I am seven times one to-day.

Jean Ingelow.

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Once upon a time a worthy man had three gold-fish, the prettiest little fishes in the world. He put them

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