3.  High above me snow clouds rise,
     In the early morning gleaming;
   And the patterned valley beneath me lies
     Softly in sunshine dreaming,—­
   Free in heart—­happy and free—­
   This is the summer life for me.

4.  The bells of wandering herds I list,
     Chiming in upland meadows;
   How sweet they sound, as I lie at rest
     Under the dark pine shadows—­
   Glad in heart—­happy and free—­
   This is the summer life for me.

Definitions.—­l.  Al’pen-stock, a long staff, pointed with iron, used in traveling among the Alps.  Knap’sack, a leather sack for carrying food or clothing, borne on the back.  Cha-let’ (pro. sha-la’), a mountain hut. 2.  Gush, a rapid outflowing. 3.  Pat’terned, marked off in figures or patterns. 4.  List, hearken to.

XXXII.  CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES. (89)

1.  Derby.  Good morning, neighbor Scrapewell.  I have half a dozen miles to ride to-day, and shall be extremely obliged if you will lend me your gray mare.

2.  Scrapewell.  It would give me great pleasure to oblige you, friend Derby; but I am under the necessity of going to the mill this very morning, with a bag of corn.  My wife wants the meal to-day, and you know what a time there’ll be if I disappoint her.

3.  D. Then she must want it still, for I can assure you the mill does not go to-day.  I heard the miller tell Will Davis that the water was too low.

4.  S. You don’t say so!  That is bad, indeed; for in that case I shall be obliged to gallop off to town for the meal.  My wife would comb my head for me if I should neglect it.

5.  D. I can save you this journey, for I have plenty of meal at home, and will lend your wife as much as she wants.

6.  S. Ah! neighbor Derby, I am sure your meal would never suit my wife.  You can’t conceive how whimsical she is.

7.  D. If she were ten times more whimsical than she is, I am certain she would like it; for you sold it to me yourself, and you assured me it was the best you ever had.

8.  S. Yes, yes! that’s true, indeed; I always have the best of everything.  You know, neighbor Derby, that no one is more ready to oblige a friend than I am; but I must tell you the mare this morning refused to eat hay; and, truly, I am afraid she will not carry you.

9.  D. Oh, never fear!  I will feed her well with oats on the road.

10.  S. Oats! neighbor; oats are very dear.

11.  D. Never mind that.  When I have a good job in view, I never stand for trifles.

12.  S. But it is very slippery; and I am really afraid she will fall and break your neck.

13.  D. Give yourself no uneasiness about that.  The mare is certainly sure-footed; and, besides, you were just now talking of galloping her to town.

14.  S. Well, then, to tell you the plain truth, though I wish to oblige you with all my heart, my saddle is torn quite in pieces, and I have just sent my bridle to be mended.