Definitions.—­2.  Lan’guished, suffered, sank away.  Im-pos’. tor, a deceiver. 3.  A-ver’sion, dislike.  In-dulge’, to give way to.  Pound, a British denomination of money equal in value to about $4.86. 4.  Ap-pli-ca’tion, the act of making a request. 9.  Con—­ster-na’tion, excessive terror, dismay.  Prin’ci-ple, a right rule of conduct. 12.  Ar-ti-fi’cial (pro. ar-ti-fish’al), made by art, not real.  In-tol’er-a-bly, in a manner not to be borne. 14.  Sum’mons, a call to appear. 19.  Ex-pe’ri-ence, knowledge gained by actual trial. 23.  In-teg’ri-ty, honesty.  Leg’a-cy, a gift, by will, of personal property.

VIII.  WORK.

Eliza Cook (b. 1817, d. 1889) was born at London.  In 1837 she commenced contributing to periodicals.  In 1840 the first collection of her poems was made.  In 1849 she became editor of “Eliza Cook’s Journal.”

1.  Work, work, my boy, be not afraid;
     Look labor boldly in the face;
   Take up the hammer or the spade,
     And blush not for your humble place.

2.  There’s glory in the shuttle’s song;
     There’s triumph in the anvil’s stroke;
   There’s merit in the brave and strong
     Who dig the mine or fell the oak.

3.  The wind disturbs the sleeping lake,
     And bids it ripple pure and fresh;
   It moves the green boughs till they make
     Grand music in their leafy mesh.

4.  And so the active breath of life
     Should stir our dull and sluggard wills;
   For are we not created rife
     With health, that stagnant torpor kills?

5.  I doubt if he who lolls his head
     Where idleness and plenty meet,
   Enjoys his pillow or his bread
     As those who earn the meals they eat.

6.  And man is never half so blest
     As when the busy day is spent
   So as to make his evening rest
     A holiday of glad content.

Definitions.—­3.  Mesh, network. 4.  Rife, abounding.  Stag’nant, inactive. 2.  Tor’por, laziness, stupidity. 5.  Lolls, reclines, leans.

IX.  THE MANIAC.

1.  A gentleman who had traveled in Europe, relates that he one day visited the hospital of Berlin, where he saw a man whose exterior was very striking.  His figure, tall and commanding, was bending with age, but more with sorrow; the few scattered hairs which remained on his temples were white almost as the driven snow, and the deepest melancholy was depicted in his countenance.

2.  On inquiring who he was and what brought him there, he started, as, if from sleep, and, after looking around him, began with slow and measured steps to stride the hall, repeating in a low but audible voice, “Once one is two; once one is two.”

3.  Now and then he would stop, and remain with his arms folded on his breast as if in contemplation, for some minutes; then again resuming his walk, he continued to repeat, “Once one is two; once one is two.”  His story, as our traveler understood it, is as follows: