7.  For softly o’er its petals white
    There crept a blueness, like the light
    Of skies upon a summer night;

8.  And in its chalice, I am told,
    The bonny bell was formed to hold
    A tiny star that gleamed like gold.

9.  Now, little people, sweet and true,
    I find a lesson here for you
    Writ in the floweret’s hell of blue: 

10.  The patient child whose watchful eye
    Strives after all things pure and high,
    Shall take their image by and by.

 Definitions.—­2.  Rift, a narrow opening, a cleft. 3.  Swayed, swung. 5. 
 Height (pro. hite), an elevated place. 7.  Pet’als, the colored leaves of
 a flower. 8.  Chal’ice, a cup or bowl.  Bon’ny, beautiful.

III.  THE GENTLE HAND.

Timothy S. Arthur (b. 1809, d. 1885) was born near Newburgh, N.Y., but passed most of his life at Baltimore and Philadelphia.  His opportunities for good schooling were quite limited, and he may be considered a self-educated man.  He was the author of more than a hundred volumes, principally novels of a domestic and moral tone, and of many shorter tales—­magazine articles, etc.  “Ten Nights in a Barroom,” and “Three Years in a Mantrap,” are among his best known works.

1.  When and where it matters not now to relate—­but once upon a time, as I was passing through a thinly peopled district of country, night came down upon me almost unawares.  Being on foot, I could not hope to gain the village toward which my steps were directed, until a late hour; and I therefore preferred seeking shelter and a night’s lodging at the first humble dwelling that presented itself.

2.  Dusky twilight was giving place to deeper shadows, when I found myself in the vicinity of a dwelling, from the small uncurtained windows of which the light shone with a pleasant promise of good cheer and comfort.  The house stood within an inclosure, and a short distance from the road along which I was moving with wearied feet.

3.  Turning aside, and passing through the ill-hung gate, I approached the dwelling.  Slowly the gate swung on its wooden hinges, and the rattle of its latch, in closing, did not disturb the air until I had nearly reached the porch in front of the house, in which a slender girl, who had noticed my entrance, stood awaiting my arrival.

4.  A deep, quick bark answered, almost like an echo, the sound of the shutting gate, and, sudden as an apparition, the form of an immense dog loomed in the doorway.  At the instant when he was about to spring, a light hand was laid upon his shaggy neck, and a low word spoken.

5.  “Go in, Tiger,” said the girl, not in a voice of authority, yet in her gentle tones was the consciousness that she would be obeyed; and, as she spoke, she lightly bore upon the animal with her hand, and he turned away and disappeared within the dwelling.