Full of sorrow, she sank down on the grass, and wept for her lost Narcissus. For days and days she remained in the same place, till at last she faded away, and only her voice was left. You may now hear it, wandering up hill and down dale, but speaking only after you have spoken, and saying the same words as you have said.
Perhaps you would like to hear, too, what became of the lovely boy Narcissus. He also was punished by one of the gods.
One day, while he was looking in a clear pool, he fell in love with his own image, which he could see in the water beneath him. He did not know that it was his own image, and asked, "Who are you?""You," replied a voice, which was all that was left of poor Echo.
Narcissus looked around, but could see nobody. He smiled, and, on looking again into the water, he saw the pretty face smiling back at him. He put down his hand to touch it, but, as soon as he touched the water, the ripples on the pool hid the image.
When the water became still again, the lovely face wasthere looking up at him. The more he looked at it, the more he loved it. He could not stop gazing into the pool. Days went by, but still he stayed there. Whenever he spoke, only his own words came back in reply, so he thought that the image was mocking him.
He grew thin and weak, too weak to leave the side of the pool. At last he faded away altogether. When his friends came to look for him, they found that a beautiful flower had sprung up where he had rested. They called it Narcissus, the name it still bears.
Author.-This is an old Greek story told by the early writers and here retold in simpler form for young readers of to-day.
General Notes.-The nymphs were lesser goddesses of woods andmountains and streams. Primitive peoples made up these stories to account for the appearances and workings of Nature. Nowadays, the scientist gives us more reasonable explanations, but without destroying our sense of wonder. Juno, you will see, was a jealous goddess. Give truer, if less fanciful, explanations of (a) the reflected voice, (b) the reflected image.
Lesson 56
THE DAyLIGHT IS DyING
The daylight is dying Away in the west,
The wild birds are flying
In silence to rest;
In leafage and frondage Where shadows are deep,They pass to their bondage- The kingdom of sleep.
And, watched in their sleeping By stars in the height,They rest in your keeping, O wonderful Night.
When night doth her glories Of star-shine unfold," Tis then that the stories
Of Bushland are told. Unnumbered I hold them In memories bright,But who could unfold them
Or read them aright?
Beyond all denials
The stars in their glories, The breeze in the myalls,Are part of their stories. The waving of grasses,The song of the river That sings as it passes,For ever and ever.
The hobble-chain"s rattle,
The calling of birds, The lowing of cattle,
Must blend with the words. Without these indeed youWould find it ere long
As though I should read you The words of a songThat lamely would linger When lacking the rune,The voice of the singer, The lilt of the tune.
But, as one half-hearing
An old-time refrain, With memory clearing,
Recalls it again.
These tales roughly wrought of The bush and its ways,May call back a thought of The wandering days;And, blending with each
In the mem"ries that throng,
There haply shall reach You some echo of song.
- Andrew Barton Paterson
Author.-Andrew Barton Paterson ( "Banjo") was born in New South Wales in 1864, and became a lawyer and journalist. He served in the South African War and as a remount officer in Egypt. He wrote for the Sydney Bulletin many stirring bush ballads, which were afterwards published in book form-The Man from Snowy River, Rio Grande"s Last Race, Saltbush Bill, Old Bush Songs (edited), as well as prose works-An Outback Marriage, Three Elephant Power, etc. His people were pastoralists.
"He is the poet of the man who rides, as Lawson is of the man who walks."General Notes.-What is the difference between leafage andfrondage? Picture a scene where the bushland stories are told- " while the billy boils." What do the hobble-chain"s rattle and the lowing of cattle suggest? Tell any bush songs that the singer might sing. Where did Mr. Paterson hear these songs and these stories? "Rune" here means charm or magic.
Lesson 57
HEIDI ON THE mOuNTAIN
[Heidi was a little Swiss girl who went to live with her grand- father up among the mountains, where she made a bed of straw in the loft. The next morning her grandfather said that she might go for the day higher up the mountain with Peter, the goat-herd.]
Heidi started joyfully for the mountain. She ran to and fro shouting with delight, for here were whole patches of delicate red primroses, and there the blue gleam of the lovely gentian, while above them all laughed and nodded the golden rock-roses. Charmed with all this waving field of bright flowers, Heidi forgot even Peter and the goats. She ran to and fro gathering whole handfuls of the flowers, which she put into her little apron. Then she sat down, surrounded by flowers, and drew in deep breaths of the scented air.
"You have enough now," said Peter. "You will stay here for ever, if you go on picking; and, if you gather all the flowers now, there will be none for to-morrow."Heidi jumped up, and climbed on up the mountain with Peter. The goats now became quieter and less troublesome. They were beginning to smell the plants they loved, whichgrew on the higher slopes, and they climbed up as fast as they could to reach them. When the children came to the foot of the high rocks, Peter put the bag which held their lunch carefully in a hollow in the ground, where the wind could not blow it away. Then he stretched himself on the warm ground and fell asleep.
