"It is mere hate and unchristian vengeance," said the fox.

"No, friend," the farmer answered; "I don't hate you, and I don't
want to revenge myself on you; but you and I can't get on
together, and I think I am of more importance in this world than
you. If nettles and thistles grow in my cabbage garden, I don't
try to persuade them to grow into cabbages. I just dig them up.

"I don't hate them; on the contrary, I feel a sense of pity for
them. But I feel somehow that they mustn't hinder me with my
cabbages, and that I must put them away; and so, my poor friend,
I am sorry for you, but I am afraid you must swing."



HIAWATHA'S CHILDHOOD.

BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.

ù By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis,
Daughter of the moon, Nokomis.
Dark behind it rose the forest,
Rose the black and gloomy pine trees,
Rose the firs with cones upon them.
Bright before it beat the water,
Beat the clear and sunny water,
Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.