-William Lloyd Garrison, you may have heard his name before-found the poem tucked under the door of his office by the postman, and, noticing that it was writter in blue ink, was tempted to throw it into the waste basket.

13. But Mr. Garrison had a good, kind heart, and liked to give every one a chance in the world. He read the poem, saw that there was true genius in it, and so he published it.

14. Happy was the Quaker farmer boy when he saw his verses in print. He felt that God had something in store in life for him

that he was called in some way to

be good and useful to others.

15. He wrote other poems, and sent them to Mr. Garrison. They were full of beauties. One day Mr. Garrison asked the postman from what quarter they

came.

16. "I am accustomed to deliver a package of papers to a farmer boy in East Haverhill. I guess they came from him." Mr. Garrison thought he must ride over to East Haverhill and see.

17. He found a slender, sweet-faced farmer boy work ing with his plain, practical father on the farm. The boy modestly acknowledged that he had written the at which his father did not seem over well poems,pleased.

18. "You must send that boy to school, Friend Whittier," said Mr. Garrison. Friend Whittier was not so sure; but the good counsel of the Newburyport editor, in the end, was decisive. The boy was sent to the academy.

19. John is an old man now; he lives at Amesbury, near the beautiful Merrimac, that he loved in youth. Almost every boy and girl in the land can repeat some of the poems he has written.

HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH.

LXXIV. OUR STATE.

1. The south-land boasts its teeming cane,
The prairied West its heavy grain,
And sunset's radiant gates unfold
On rising marts and sands of gold.

2. Rough, bleak and hard, our little State
Is scant of soil, of limits strait;
Her yellow sands are sands alone;
Her only mines are ice and stone!
3. From Autumn frost to April rain,
Too long her winter woods complain ;
From budding flower to falling leaf,
Her summer time is all too brief.

4. Yet on her rocks, and on her sands,
And wintry hills, the school-house stands;
And what her rugged soil denies,
The harvest of the mind supplies.

5. The riches of the commonwealth

Are free, strong minds, and hearts of health;
And more to her than gold or grain,
The cunning hand and cultured brain.

6. For well she keeps her ancient stock,
The stubborn strength of Plymouth Rock;
And still maintains, with milder laws
And clearer light, the good old cause ;-

7. Nor heeds the skeptic's puny hands,

While near her school the church-spire stands;
Nor fears the blinded bigot's rule,

While near her church-spire stands the school.

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.

LXXV. THE BAOBAB TREE.

1. The baobab tree is a native of Africa and of monstrous size. It is the most colossal vegetable monument on earth. It has round, woolly leaves, which consist of from three to seven leaflets radiating from a common center, giving them somewhat the appearance of a hand, and a magnificent white flower.

2. It is an enormous tree, holding among plants the place that the elephant holds among animals-a hoary witness of the last changes which the earth has undergone, and deluges that have buried beneath their waves the productions of early ages.

3. Several baobabs that have been measured were found to be from seventy to seventy-seven feet in circumference. From its branches hang, at times, colossal nets, three feet in length, resembling large oval baskets open at the bottom, and looking from the distance like so many signal flags.

4. It would take fifteen men, with their arms extended, to embrace the trunk of one of these great trees, which, in the countries through which the Senegal flows, are venerated as sacred monuments.

5. Enormous branches are given off from the central stem a few feet from the ground, and spread out horizontally, giving the tree a diameter of over one hundred feet. "Each of these branches," says Mr. Danton, would be "a monster tree elsewhere, and taken together they seem to make up a forest rather than a tree.

6. It is only at the age of eight hundred years that the baobabs attain their full size, and then cease to grow. The fruit of this tree is oblong; the color of the shell passes in ripening from green to yellow and brown. The fruit is called "monkey bread." It contains a spongy

substance, paler than chocolate, and filled with abundant juice.

7. The bark is ashy gray in color, and almost an inch in thickness. The negroes of the Senegal grind it down to powder, and in this state they use it to season their food, and to maintain a moderately free perspiration, which enables them the more easily to withstand the heat. It serves also as an antidote for certain fevers. Wonders of Vegetation.

LXXVI. THE TWO FOXES.

1. A gentleman, while walking one day, near a stream where several geese were swimming, observed one of them disappear under the water with a sudden jerk. While he looked for her to rise again, he saw a fox emerge from the water and trot off to the woods with the goose in his mouth.

2. The man watched the fox, and saw him carry the goose to a recess under an overhanging rock, where he scratched away a mass of dry leaves, and, putting the goose down, covered it carefully.

3. Then the fox went to the stream again, entered some distance from the flock of geese, and floated along with only the tip of his nose above the water; but this time he was not so fortunate. The geese took the alarm, and flew away.

4. Then the fox walked off in a direction opposite to the place where he had hid the goose. The gentleman then took the goose, put her in his basket, replaced the leaves carefully, and watched for the fox at a little distance.

5. The sly thief was soon seen with another fox that

he had invited to dine with him. They trotted along merrily, swinging their tails and snuffing the air in anticipation of a rich feast. When they came to the rock, Reynard eagerly scratched away the leaves, but his dinner was not there.

6. He looked at his companion and plainly saw by his countenance that he considered his hospitality all a sham, and that he felt himself insulted. The contemptuous expression of the invited guest was more than his mortified host could bear.

7. Though conscious of generous intentions, he felt that all assurances to that effect would be regarded as lies. Appearances were certainly against him, and he held down his head, looking sideways, with a sneaking glance at his disappointed companion.

8. Indignant at what he considered an insult, the offended guest seized his unfortunate host and cuffed him most unmercifully. Poor Reynard bore the infliction with the utmost patience, and sneaked off as if conscious that he had received no more than might be expected under such circumstances.

LXXVII. STORY OF JOHN JOBSON AND HIS RAT.

1. John Jobson lived in a fine new house,

That cost him ten thousand dollars and more:
'Twas the pride of his heart, for the plan was his own,
From the grand French roof to the basement floor.

2. John Jobson was known as a cruel man,
Who never pitied a living thing:
The dog sneaked off if he came in sight,
And the frightened canary ceased to sing.