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did me; and so at last we were persuaded to buy the two gross between us."

GOLDSMITH.

      [Note: Moses at the fair. This is an incident taken from Goldsmith's novel, 'The Vicar of Wakefield.' The narrator throughout is the Vicar himself, who tells us the simple joys and sorrows of his family, and the foibles of each member of it.]

* * * * *

      A WISH

             Happy the man whose wish and care

               A few paternal acres bound,

             Content to breathe his native air

                                            In his own ground.

             Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,

               Whose flocks supply him with attire;

             Whose trees in summer yield him shade,

                                            In winter, fire.

             Blest who can unconcernedly find

               Hours, days, and years, glide soft away

             In health of body, peace of mind,

                                            Quiet by day,

             Sound sleep by night; study and ease

               Together mixed; sweet recreation,

             And innocence, which most does please,

                                            With meditation.

             Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;

               Thus unlamented let me die;

             Steal from the world, and not a stone

                                           Tell where I lie.

POPE.

      [Notes: Alexander Pope, born 1688, died 1744. The author of numerous poems and translations, all of them marked by the same lucid thought and polished versification. The Essay on Man, the Satires and Epistles, and the translations of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, are amongst the most important.

      Write a paraphrase of the first two stanzas.]

* * * * *

      WHANG THE MILLER

      Whang, the miller, was naturally avaricious; nobody loved money better than he, or more respected those that had it. When people would talk of a rich man in company, Whang would say, "I know him very well; he and I are intimate; he stood for a child of mine." But if ever a poor man was mentioned, he had not the least knowledge of the man; he might be very well for aught he knew; but he was not fond of many acquaintances, and loved to choose his company.

      Whang, however, with all his eagerness for riches, was in reality poor; he had nothing but the profits of his mill to support him; but though these were small, they were certain; while his mill stood and went, he was sure of eating; and his frugality was such that he every day laid some money by, which he would at intervals count and contemplate with much satisfaction. Yet still his acquisitions were not equal to his desires; he only found himself above want, whereas he desired to be possessed of affluence.

      One day, as he was indulging these wishes, he was informed that a neighbour of his had found a pan of money under ground, having dreamed of it three nights running before. These tidings were daggers to the heart of poor Whang. "Here am I," says he, "toiling and moiling from morning till night for a few paltry farthings, while neighbour Hunks only goes quietly to bed, and dreams himself into thousands before morning. Oh that I could dream like him! with what pleasure would I dig round the pan; how slily would I carry it home; not even nay wife should see me; and then, oh, the pleasure of thrusting one's hand into a heap of gold up to the elbow!"

      Such reflections only served to make the miller unhappy; he discontinued his former assiduity; he was quite disgusted with small gains, and his customers began to forsake him. Every day he repeated the wish, and every night laid himself down in order to dream. Fortune, that was for a long time unkind, at last, however, seemed to smile upon his distresses, and indulged him with the wished-for vision. He dreamed that under a certain part of the foundation of his mill there was concealed a monstrous pan of gold and diamonds, buried deep in the ground, and covered with a large flat stone. He rose up, thanked the stars that were at last pleased to take pity on his sufferings, and concealed his good luck from every person, as is usual in money dreams, in order to have the vision repeated the two succeeding nights, by which he should be certain of its veracity. His wishes in this also were answered; he still dreamed of the same pan of money, in the very same place.

      Now, therefore, it was past a doubt; so, getting up early the third morning, he repairs alone, with a mattock in his hand, to the mill, and began to undermine that part of the wall which the vision directed. The first omen of success that he met was a broken mug; digging still deeper, he turns up a house tile, quite new and entire. At last, after much digging, he came to the broad flat stone, but then so large, that it was beyond one man's strength to remove it. "Here," cried he, in raptures, to himself, "here it is! under this stone there is room for a very large pan of diamonds indeed! I must e'en go home to my wife, and tell her the whole affair, and get her to assist me in turning it up." Away, therefore, he goes, and acquaints his wife with every circumstance of their good fortune. Her raptures on this occasion may easily be imagined; she flew round his neck, and embraced him in an agony of joy: but those transports, however, did not delay their eagerness to know the exact sum; returning, therefore, speedily together to the place where Whang had been digging, there they found—not indeed the expected treasure, but the mill, their only support, undermined and fallen.

GOLDSMITH.

      [Note: He stood for a child of mine, i.e., stood as godfather for a child of mine.]

* * * * *

      A SEA SONG

             A wet sheet and a flowing sea,

                A wind that follows fast,

             And fills the white and rustling sail

                And bends the gallant mast.

             And bends the gallant mast, my boys,

                While, like the eagle free,

             Away the good ship flies, and leaves

                Old England on the lee.

             Oh, for a soft and gentle wind,

                I heard a fair one cry:

             But give to me the snoring breeze

                And white waves heaving high.

             And white waves heaving high, my lads,

                A good ship, tight and free,

             The world of waters is our home,

                And merry men are we.

             There's tempest in yon horned moon,

                And lightning in yon cloud;

             And hark the music, mariners!

                The wind is piping loud.

             The wind is piping loud, my boys,

                The

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