CHAPTER XCII.

THE TWO CRITICS.

A FABLE, FROM THE SPANISH.

1. A BEAR, who with his master sought
An honest living to obtain,
In dance professional, essayed

The indulgent public's praise to gain.

2. Triumphant on the circle round

Gazing, an Ape at length he spied:
"What think you of my art?" quoth he.
"Bad, bad," the knowing Ape replied.

3. "Indeed!" the disappointed brute

4. A Pig approached; — with rapture gazed ;

"Wondrous!" he cried;

A dancer of such magic skill

What steps! what mien!

CHAPTER XCIII.

INDIAN NAMES.

"How can the red men be forgotten, while so many of our states and territories, rivers and lakes, are designated by their names?"

1. YE say they all have passed away,

That noble race and brave;

That their light canoes have vanished
From off the crested wave;

That 'mid the forest where they roamed
There rings no hunter's shout;
But their name is on your waters—
Ye may not wash it out.

2. Yes, where Ontario's billow,

Like ocean's surge, is curled;
Where strong Niagara's thunders wake
The echo of the world;

Where red Missouri bringeth

Rich tribute from the west,

And Rappahannock sweetly sleeps

On green Virginia's breast.

3. Ye say their cone-like cabins,
That clustered o'er the vale,
Have disappeared as withered leaves

Before the autumn gale;

But their memory liveth on your hills,
Their baptism on your shore;
Your everlasting rivers speak
Their dialect of yore.

4. Old Massachusetts wears it

Within her lordly crown,

And broad Ohio bears it

Amid his young renown.
Connecticut hath wreathed it

Where her quiet foliage waves,
And bold Kentucky breathed it hoarse
Through all her ancient caves.

1. I LOVE to look on a scene like this, Of wild and careless play,

And persuade myself that I am not old,

And

my locks are not yet gray;

For it stirs the blood in an old man's heart,

And makes his pulses fly,

To catch the thrill of a happy voice,

And the light of a pleasant eye.

2. I have walked the world for fourscore years, And they say that I am old;

That my heart is ripe for the reaper Death,
And my years are well-nigh told.

It is very true-it is very true

I'm old, and I "bide my time;"

But my heart will leap at a scene like this,
And I half renew my prime.

3. Play on! play on! I am with you there,
In the midst of your merry ring;
I can feel the thrill of the daring jump,

And the rush of the breathless swing.
I hide with you in the fragrant hay,
And I whoop the smothered call,
And my feet slip up on the seedy floor,
And I care not for the fall.

4. I am willing to die when my time shall come,
And I shall be glad to go,

For the world, at best, is a weary place,

And my pulse is getting low;

But the grave is dark, and the heart will fail
In treading its gloomy way;

And it wiles my heart from its dreariness,
To see the young so gay.

CHAPTER XCV.

THE ART OF GOOD BEHAVIOR.

YOUNG people, whatever be their condition. are properly anxious to know how to behave themselves; and are liable to much mortification, and often to serious disadvantage, from not knowing just what is expected of them, or how to give or receive those attentions and civilities which make up a large part of our social intercourse.

In this free country, we have no political or personal distinctions no rank except that which is made by good manners and good morals. Every man should resolve to be a gentleman, in the best sense of the word, and every woman should seek to have the manners of a lady.

Polished manners, an easy carriage, a pleasing address, do not come by nature, though some acquire them more easily than others. They must be taught, or learned from others. Those who have parents that are graceful and refined, have the advantage of early and constant example. But all may learn good manners, by cultivating good dispositions, and carefully observing and following the best examples within their reach.

Cultivate a true desire to please, and make those happy

around you.

Carefully repress the desire to show off, or to shine, and especially the mean wish to humble others, or injure their feelings. Put your mind at ease, by forethought and resolution, before you go into society. Be watchful to

see what is expected of you, or to find opportunities to pay attention or relieve inconvenience of others.

Carelessness as to what may incommode others, or offend their taste, or shock their prejudices, or wound their feelings, is a sure sign of a vulgar mind. To avoid everything that is disagreeable to others, makes up a large share in what belongs to true politeness.

Cleanliness-absolute purity of person-is entirely indispensable. It is the first requisite to health, cheerfulness, comfort, beauty, decency and gentility. A clean man is half a gentleman. There is water everywhere-therefore, keep clean. Dirt is a never-failing proof of vulgarity. The first step towards reforming a convict is to give him a thorough washing.

The whole person needs washing every day. Keep your teeth clean, that your breath may be wholesome. Keep your nails and your hair clean, and both neatly cut, of a medium length. With towels for the skin, combs and brushes for the hair, brush for the teeth, and a little soap, any person may be clean.

DRESS. That dress which is one mark of gentlemanly refinement, should be within the fashion, not beyond itshould fit the person so as to appear comfortable in wearing, and as good as you can afford. One thing is indispensable in company—that is, a clean, unrumpled shirt, coarse or fine, cotton or linen, as you can afford.

A good hat, and a well-brushed pair of boots, fitting well to the head and feet, are marks of good taste. A flashy waistcoat denotes a lack of civilization. The best dressed men wear the least jewelry. Avoid showy chains and broad broaches. Women are expected to consult fancy, variety and ornament, more than men do-but neatness and sim