The New McGuffey Fourth Reader, W. H. McGuffey [reading like a writer txt] 📗

at the same time endeavored to preserve those essential features which have always distinguished the McGuffey Readers and have so largely contributed to their success. While the majority of the selections are new to the series, care has been taken to maintain the same high literary and ethical standard that has hitherto so distinctly characterized these books. Lessons inculcating kindness, courage, obedience, industry, thrift, true manliness, patriotism, and other duties and obligations form no small portion of the contents. Selections from the masterpieces of English literature include both the older classical productions, without which no school can be complete, and also choice extracts from many of the latest and most popular writers.

The Elocutionary Introduction, by Professor F. Townsend Southwick, presents in brief scope the most important rules for oral reading and those principles of the art that are most necessary for the pupils to master. The teacher should, at the very onset, become thoroughly familiar with the subjects here presented, and the pupils should be referred to this discussion of elocutionary principles as often as occasion may require.

The more difficult words are defined, and their pronunciation is indicated by diacritical marks. The object of this is to aid the pupil in the ready preparation of the reading lesson, and not to supply merely an exercise in the study of words. Short explanatory notes are given wherever required for a full understanding of the text. It is assumed, however, that the pupils have already a general knowledge of most of the subjects alluded to, or that they have ready access to the more common books of reference, and therefore only occasional notes of this character are necessary.

An alphabetical list of the authors of the various selections, together with the brief biographical and critical notes, is given as an appendix to the volume.

Acknowledgments are due to Messrs. Little, Brown & Co., Charles Scribner’s Sons, the Century Company, and other publishers who generously permitted the use, in this series, of selections from their copyrighted works.

The selections from Hawthorne, Longfellow, Whittier, Emerson, and Lucy Larcom are used by special arrangement with and permission of Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co., the authorized publishers of the writings of these authors.

 

CONTENTS

[The Elocutionary Introduction and pronunciation markups are omitted in the Project Gutenberg edition because of abundance of non-ascii characters.]

SELECTIONS FOR READING

Young Benjamin Franklin — Nathaniel Hawthorne A Hard Word A Song — James Whitcomb Riley The Journey of Life. An Allegory What I live for Try Again! — Charlotte Elizabeth True Manliness The Miller of the Dee — Charles Mackay A Boy on a Farm — Charles Dudley Warner Meddlesome Mattie The Eagle The Old Eagle Tree — John Todd A New Kind of Fun — From the German Two Ways of telling a Story — Henry K. Oliver The Blind Men and the Elephant — John G. Saxe Harry’s Riches A Happy New Year — Margaret E. Sangster Jeanette and Jo — Mary Mapes Dodge Watseka. An Indian Legend Harry and his Dog — Mary Russell Milford Little Boy Blue — Eugene Field If I were a Boy The Tempest — James T. Fields The Right Way — Frank R. Stockton An Adventure with Wolves The Old Oaken Bucket — Samuel Woodworth The Farmer and the Fox — James Anthony Frowde Hiawatha’s Childhood — H. W. Longfellow At Rugby School — Thomas Hughes Somebody’s Darling — Marie La Coste The Captive — John R. Musick The Star-Spangled Banner — F. S. Key Our National Banner — Edward Everett Burning the Fallow — Susanna Moodie Piccola — Celia L. Thaxter The Mountain and the Squirrel — R. W. Emerson Srange Stories of Ants: White Ants — Henry Drummond Red Ants — Jules Michelet Dear Country Mine — R. W. Gilder My Country The Four MacNicols — William Black The Blue and the Gray — Ellen H. Flagg The Captain’s Feather — Samuel M. Peck The Ride to London — Charles Dickens The Planting of the Apple Tree — W. C. Bryant The Apple — John Burroughs The Bugle Song — Alfred Tennyson The Story of Captain John Smith — John Esten Cooke On the Banks of the Tennessee — W. D. Gallagher Good Will — J. T. Trowbridge The Good Reader A Legend of Bregenz — Adelaide A. Procter The Golden Touch — Nathaniel Hawthorne The Brook — Alfred Tennyson The Sermon on the Mount — Bible The Song of Steam — G. W. Cutter The Gentle Hand — T. S. Arthur Spring — Henry Timrod Marion’s Men — William Gilmore Simms The Pied Piper of Hamelin — Robert Browning

 

FOURTH READER

 

YOUNG BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.

BY NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.

When Benjamin Franklin was a boy he was very fond of fishing; and many of his leisure hours were spent on the margin of the mill pond catching flounders, perch, and eels that came up thither with the tide.

The place where Ben and his playmates did most of their fishing was a marshy spot on the outskirts of Boston. On the edge of the water there was a deep bed of clay, in which the boys were forced to stand while they caught their fish.

“This is very uncomfortable,” said Ben Franklin one day to his comrades, while they were standing in the quagmire.

“So it is,” said the other boys. “What a pity we have no better place to stand on!”

On the dry land, not far from the quagmire, there were at that time a great many large stones that had been brought there to be used in building the foundation of a new house. Ben mounted upon the highest of these stones.

“Boys,” said he, “I have thought of a plan. You know what a plague it is to have to stand in the quagmire yonder. See, I am bedaubed to the knees, and you are all in the same plight.

“Now I propose that we build a wharf. You see these stones? The workmen mean to use them for building a house here. My plan is to take these same stones, carry them to the edge of the water, and build a wharf with them. What say you, lads? Shall we build the wharf?”

“Yes, yes,” cried the boys; “let’s set about it!”

It was agreed that they should all be on the spot that evening, and begin their grand public enterprise by moonlight.

Accordingly, at the appointed time, the boys met and eagerly began to remove the stones. They worked like a colony of ants, sometimes two or three of them taking hold of one stone; and at last they had carried them all away, and built their little wharf.

“Now, boys,” cried Ben, when the job was done, “let’s give three cheers, and go home to bed. To-morrow we may catch fish at our ease.”

“Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!” shouted his comrades, and all scampered off home and to bed, to dream of to-morrow’s sport.

In the morning the masons came to begin their work. But what was their surprise to find the stones all gone! The master mason, looking carefully on the ground, saw the tracks of many little feet, some with shoes and some barefoot. Following these to the water side, he soon found what had become of the missing building stones.

“Ah! I see what the mischief is,” said he; “those little rascals who were here yesterday have stolen the stones to build a wharf with. And I must say that they understand their business well.”

He was so angry that he at once went to make a complaint before the magistrate; and his Honor wrote an order to “take the bodies of Benjamin Franklin, and other evil-disposed persons,” who had stolen a heap of stones.

If the owner of the stolen property had not been more merciful than the master mason, it might have gone hard with our friend Benjamin and his comrades. But, luckily for them, the gentleman had a respect for Ben’s father, and, moreover, was pleased with the spirit of the whole affair. He therefore let the culprits off easily.

But the poor boys had to go through another trial, and receive sentence, and suffer punishment, too, from their own fathers. Many a rod was worn to the stump on that unlucky night. As for Ben, he was less afraid of a whipping than of his father’s reproof. And, indeed, his father was very much disturbed.

“Benjamin, come hither,” began Mr. Franklin in his usual stern and weighty tone. The boy approached and stood before his father’s chair. “Benjamin,” said his father, “what could induce you to take property which did not belong to you?”

“Why, father,” replied Ben, hanging his head at first, but then lifting his eyes to Mr. Franklin’s face, “if it had been merely for my own benefit, I never should have dreamed of it. But I knew that the wharf would be a public convenience. If the owner of the stones should build a house with them, nobody would enjoy any advantage but himself. Now, I made use of them in a way that was for the advantage of many persons.”

“My son,” said Mr. Franklin solemnly, “so far as it was in your power, you have done a greater harm to the public than to the owner of the stones. I do verily believe, Benjamin, that almost all the public and private misery of mankind arises from a neglect of this great truth,—that evil can produce only evil, that good ends must be wrought out by good means.”

To the end of his life, Ben Franklin never forgot this conversation with his father; and we have reason to suppose, that, in most of his public and private career, he sought to act upon the principles which that good and wise man then taught him.

 

DEFINITIONS:—In defining words, that meaning is given which is appropriate to them in the connection in which they are used. The pupil should look in the dictionary for the meaning of all the others with which he is not perfectly familiar.

Quagmire, soft, wet, miry land. Outskirt, borders. Plague, bother, great trouble. Plight, condition. Wharf, a platform on the shore of a harbor, river, or lake, extending some way into the water. Comrades, companions, playfellows. Magistrate, an officer of the law, justice of the peace. Ringleader, the leader of several persons acting together. Culprits, wrong-doers. Solemnly, with great dignity. Induce, lead persuade. Benefit, profit, accomodation. Verily, truly.

 

EXERCISE.—Where is Boston? How long ago did Benjamin Franklin live? Learn all that you can about his life and work, and repeat it to the class at the next recitation.

 

A HARD WORD.

“P-o po, p-o po, Popo, c-a-t cat, Popocat—Oh dear, what a hard word! Let me see, Po-po-cat-e-petl. I can never pronounce it, I am sure. I wish they would not have such hard names in geography,” said George Gould, quite out of patience. “Will you please tell me how to pronounce the name of this mountain, father?”

“Why, do you call that a hard word to pronounce, George? I know much harder words than that.”

“Well, father this is the hardest word I ever saw,” replied George. “I wish they had put the name into the volcano, and burned it up.”

“I know how to pronounce it,” said Jane. “It is Po-po’ ca-ta’petl.”

“Po-po’ ca-ta’petl,” said George, stopping at each syllable. “Well, it is not so very hard, after all; but I wish they would not have any long words, and then one could pronounce them easily enough.”

“I do not think so,” said his father. “Some of the hardest words I have ever seen are the shortest. I know one little word, with only two letters in it, that very few children, or men either, can always speak.”

“Oh, I suppose it is borne French or German word; isn’t it, father?”

“No: it is English; and you