The Ontario Readers | Page 5

and emphatic tone these remarkable words:
"You're a humbug, sir."
"A what?" said Mr. Winkle, starting.
"A humbug, sir. I will speak plainer, if you wish it. An impostor, sir."

With these words, Mr. Pickwick turned slowly on his heel and rejoined
his friends.
DICKENS: "The Pickwick Papers."

TUBAL CAIN
Old Tubal Cain was a man of might, In the days when earth was young;
By the fierce red light of his furnace bright, The strokes of his hammer
rung: And he lifted high his brawny hand On the iron glowing clear,
Till the sparks rushed out in scarlet showers, As he fashioned the sword
and spear. And he sang--"Hurrah for my handiwork! Hurrah for the
spear and sword! Hurrah for the hand that shall wield them well, For he
shall be king and lord!"
To Tubal Cain came many a one, As he wrought by his roaring fire;
And each one prayed for a strong steel blade, As the crown of his desire;
And he made them weapons sharp and strong, Till they shouted loud
for glee; And they gave him gifts of pearls and gold, And spoils of the
forest free. And they sang--"Hurrah for Tubal Cain, Who hath given us
strength anew! Hurrah for the smith, hurrah for the fire, And hurrah for
the metal true!"
But a sudden change came o'er his heart, Ere the setting of the sun; And
Tubal Cain was filled with pain For the evil he had done: He saw that
men, with rage and hate, Made war upon their kind, That the land was
red with the blood they shed, In their lust for carnage blind. And he
said--"Alas! that I ever made, Or that skill of mine should plan, The
spear and the sword for men whose joy Is to slay their fellow-man!"
And for many a day old Tubal Cain Sat brooding o'er his woe; And his
hand forbore to smite the ore, And his furnace smouldered low. But he
rose at last with a cheerful face, And a bright courageous eye, And
bared his strong right arm for work, While the quick flames mounted
high. And he sang--"Hurrah for my handiwork!" And the red sparks lit
the air; "Not alone for the blade was the bright steel made," And he

fashioned the first ploughshare.
And men, taught wisdom from the past, In friendship joined their hands;
Hung the sword in the hall, the spear on the wall, And ploughed the
willing lands: And sang--"Hurrah for Tubal Cain! Our stanch good
friend is he; And for the ploughshare and the plough, To him our praise
shall be. But while oppression lifts its head, Or a tyrant would be lord;
Though we may thank him for the plough, We'll not forget the sword!"
CHARLES MACKAY

PROFESSOR FROG'S LECTURE
Bobby was not quite sure that he was awake, but when he opened his
eyes there was the blue sky, with the soft, white clouds drifting across
it, the big pine waving its spicy branches over his head, and beyond, the
glint of sunshine on the waters of the pond. Presently Bobby heard
voices talking softly.
"This is a good specimen," said one voice. "See how stout and strong
he looks!"
"I wonder who that is, and what he has found," thought Bobby. "I wish
it wasn't such hard work to keep my eyes open." He made a great effort,
however, and raised his heavy lids. At first he could see nothing. Then
he caught a glimpse of a mossy log, with a row of frogs and toads
sitting upon it. They were looking solemnly at him. Bobby felt a little
uncomfortable under that steady gaze.
"The toads are making their spring visit to the pond to lay their eggs,"
thought the boy. "I forgot that they were due this week."
"He must have done a good deal of mischief in his day," said an old
bull-frog, gravely. A chill crept over Bobby. "In his day."--What did
that mean?
A toad hopped out from the line and came so close to Bobby that he

could have touched her but for the strange spell which held him fast.
"Yes," said she; "this is one of the species. We are very fortunate to
have caught him. Now we shall be ready to listen to Professor Rana's
remarks."
Still Bobby could not move. What were they going to do? In a moment
there was a rustling among the dry leaves and dozens of frogs and toads
were seen hurrying towards the pine tree. Among them was a
ponderous frog, carrying a roll of manuscript under his arm. He wore
huge goggles, and looked so wise that Bobby did not dare to laugh.
"I am very sleepy," murmured a portly toad near Bobby's left ear. "I
laid