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Whether the thing was green or blue ?
“Sirs,” cries the umpire, “cease your pother,
The creature's neither one nor t’other.
I caught the animal last night,
And view'd it o'er by candle-light:
I marked it well—'twas black as jet.
You stare; but, sirs, I've got it yet:
And can produce it”-“Pray, sir, do :
I'll lay my life the thing is blue.”
And I'll be sworn, that when you 've seen
The reptile you 'll pronounce him green!
“Well, then, at once to ease the doubt,”
Replies the man, “I'll turn him out:
And when before your eyes I've set him,
If you don't find him black, I'll eat him,"
He said ; and full before their sight,
Produced the beast, and lo!-'twas white.
Both stared: the man looked wondrous wise :
“My children,” the chameleon cries
(Then first the creature found a tongue),
“ You all are right, and all are wrong ;
When next you talk of what you view,
Think others see as well as you !
Nor wonder if you find that none
Prefers your eyesight to his own.”



me-lo-di-ous va-ii-ously en-vy-ing




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con-tent-ed plum-age de-prin-ing


con-tent-ed plum-age de-priv-ing The peacock complained to Juno that the gods had given her a disagreeable voice, whilst it had pleased them to form the nightingale's so exquisitely melodi

“I deserve," said he, "an excellent voice, better than this little bird; I who am the most beautiful of the birds who fly in the air.” “With justice,” replied Juno, "are you the worst singer, because you are the most beautiful of all birds. This nightingale whom you so unjustly envy on account of her voice, is far from envying you on account of your plumage. She is aware that the gods have divided their gifts variously, and that each ought to be contented with the lot which they have bestowed on him. Cease, then, from complaining, and have a care, lest the gods should punish you by depriving you of that plumage upon which you pride yourself so much."

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tai-sin ab-und-ant-ly sulta-na




We receive comparatively few grapes in a fresh state: about 300 tons arrive every autumn from Sicily, Lisbon, and Hamburgh. They suffer in their flavour from being closely packed, and still more from the use of sawdust as a packing material. Raisins, or dried grapes, are far more abundantly imported. These are prepared sometimes by cutting the stalks of the branches half through, and leaving them suspended to the vine until sufficiently dry, which in this state they rapidly become, without losing any of their fine flavour or bloom ; the usual mode is to expose the grapes to the sun and air for a while, then lay them out in rooms, and sprinkle them with water in which soda or potash has been dissolved. This causes the sugar of the grape to candy, forming those little sweet lumps so well known in the common raisin. The differences amongst the raisins are caused entirely

by difference in their mode of culture or curing. Thus we receive stoneless sultana raisins from Smyrna, in Turkey; fine muscatels, or sun-dried raisins, in bunches with the stalks still attached, from Malaga; Damascus raisins, much larger than the sultanas, stoneless also, and preferred to the Smyrna raisins, from Damascus; and lastly, the ordinary raisins from Valencia, and from the same countries and ports where the grape

is cultivated.

Currants are only the raisins of a small grape, also deficient in seeds or stones, growing in huge bunches, often as much as eighteen inches long, and of proportionate breadth. They are trod into large casks, and exported. Enormous quantities are cultivated in the Grecian islands, principally in Corfu, Zante, and Ithaca. Originally Corinth was the principal place where they were raised, whence the name “ Corinths" from which the word “currants” has been derived.

History of Commerce, Yeats.

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eag-er wood-en out-atretch-ed thrown wood-en out-stretch-ed thrown


The baby lies in her mother's arms,

Quiet and pale and thin;

But the little head is once more raised,

As Harry comes bounding in.


A wooden horse in his hand he holds,

Dark grey with a long black mane; And an eager longing look lights up

The little pale face again.


"No, baby dear, I will hold it close,

But I cannot give it to you;
I'm afraid you would let it fall, and break

My horse, so pretty and new."


But the pale little eager face still pleads,

Outstretched is the small hand still,
He stands for a moment, then holds it out,

“I'll lend it baby, I will !”

That day is past, and he finds it again

Where the baby had thrown it aside,
Her coral red, with its silver bells

Still fast to the bridle tied.



There's a touch of paint off the bright green stick

And a chip off the horse's ear;
But ob! not that to the boy's blue eye

Brings the quickly gathering tear !

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