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Smiting and fighting,
A sight to delight in ;
Confounding, astounding,

Dizzying, and deafening the ear with its sound,

4. Collecting, projecting,
Receding and speeding,
And shocking and rocking,
And darting and parting,
And threading and spreading,
And whizzing and hissing,
And dripping and skipping,
And hitting and splitting,
And shining and twining,
And rattling and battling,
And shaking and quaking,
And pouring and roaring,
And waving and raving,
And tossing and crossing,
And flowing and going,
And running and stunning,
And foaming and roaming,
And dinning and spinning,
And dropping and hopping,
And working and jerking,
And guggling and struggling,
And heaving and cleaving,
And moaning and groaning,

5. And glittering and frittering,
And gathering and feathering,
And whitening and brightening,
And quivering and shivering,

And hurrying and skurrying,
And thundering and floundering;

6. Dividing and gliding and sliding,
And falling and brawling and sprawling,
And driving and riving and striving,
And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling,
And sounding and bounding and rounding,
And bubbling and troubling and doubling,
And grumbling and rumbling and tumbling,
And chattering and battering and shattering;

7. Retreating and beating and meeting and sheeting,
Delaying and straying and playing and spraying,
Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing,
Recoiling, turmoiling, and toiling and boiling,
And gleaming and streaming and steaming and beam

ing,

And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing,
And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping,
And curling and whirling and purling and twirling,
And thumping and plumping and bumping and jump-

ing,

And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing;
And so never ending, but always descending,
Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending,
All at once, and all o'er, with a mighty uproar :
And this way the water comes down at Lodore.

ROBERT SOUTHEY.

Robert Southey, at one time Poet Laureate of England, was born at Bristol, England, in 1774 and died in 1843. He was a voluminous writer, and at once a poet, scholar, critic, historian, and an antiquary. His greatest poetical work is "The Curse of Kehama,"

founded on Hindoo mythology. Several selections from Southey's writings will be found in the Catholic National Sixth Reader.

Lodore (1) is a cascade on Derwent River, Cumberland, England. This Lesson will prove admirable for practice on the termination -ing.

LESSON LXIII.

2. seru' ti ny; n. critical ex

amination.

11. în' ter mit'tent; a. ceasing at intervals.

5. bowl' ders; n. masses of 11. pro tū’bẽr ança; n. anyrock. thing prominent beyond the surrounding surface.

12. prom'on to ry; n. a high point of land rock projecting beyond the line of coast. 17. shāle; n. a fine-grained rock.

5. Ŏb' vi qus ly; adv. plainly.
7. seething; v. boiling.
8. in eŭm' brançè; n. trou-

blesome load.

10. rèş'o nant; a. resounding.

Beneath the Falls of Niagara.

1. On the first evening of my visit, I met, at the head of Biddle's Stair, the guide to the Cave of the Winds. He was in the prime of manhood-large, well-built, firm, and pleasant in mouth and eye. My interest in the scene stirred up his, and made him communicative. Turning to a photograph, he described, by reference to it, a feat which he had accomplished some time previously, and which had brought him almost under the green water of the Horseshoe Fall.

2. "Can you lead me there to-morrow?" I asked.

He eyed me inquiringly, weighing, perhaps, the chances of a man of light build, and with gray in his whiskers, in such an undertaking.

"I wish," I added, "to see as much of the Fall as can be seen, and where you lead I will endeavor to follow."

His scrutiny relaxed into a smile, and he said, "Very well; I shall be ready for you to-morrow."

3. On the morrow, accordingly, I came. In the hut at the head of Biddle's Stair I redressed-drawing on two pairs of woolen pantaloons, three woolen jackets, two pairs of socks, and a pair of felt shoes. Even if wet, my guide assured me that the clothes would keep me from being chilled, and he was right. A suit and hood of yellow oil cloth covered all. Most laudable precautions were taken by the young assistant of the guide to keep the water out, but his devices broke down immediately when severely tested.

4. We descended the stair; the handle of a pitchfork doing, in my case, the duty of an alpenstock. At the bottom, the guide inquired whether we should go first to the Cave of the Winds or to the Horseshoe, remarking that the latter would try us most. I decided to get the roughest done first, and he turned to the left over the stones. They were sharp and trying.

5. The base of the first portion of the cataract is covered with huge bowlders, obviously the ruins of the limestone ledge above. The water does not distribute itself uniformly among these, but seeks for itself channels through which it pours with the force of a torrent. We passed some of these with wet feet, but without difficulty. At length we came to the side of a more formidable current. My guide walked along its edge until he reached its least turbulent portion. Halting, he said, "This is our greatest difficulty; if we can cross here, we shall get far toward the Horseshoe."

6. He waded in. It evidently required all his strength to steady him. The water rose above his loins, and it foamed still higher. He had to search for footing, amid unseen bowlders, against which the torrent rose violently. He struggled and swayed, but he struggled successfully,

and finally reached the shallower water at the other side. Stretching out his arm, he said to me, "Now come on!"

7. I looked down the torrent as it rushed to the river below, which was seething with the tumult of the cataract. Even where it was not more than knee-deep, its power was manifest. As it rose around me, I sought to split the torrent by presenting a side to it; but the insecurity of the footing enabled it to grasp the loins, twist me fairly round, and bring its impetus to bear upon the back. Further struggle was impossible; and feeling my balance hopelessly gone, I turned, flung myself toward the bank just quitted, and was instantly swept into shallower water.

8. The oil-cloth covering was a great incumbrance; it had been made for a much stouter man, and, standing upright after my submersion, my legs occupied the center of two bags of water. My guide exhorted me to try again. Instructed by the first misadventure, I once more entered the stream. Had the alpenstock been of iron, it might have helped me; but, as it was, the tendency of the water to sweep it out of my hands rendered it worse than useless. I however clung to it from habit.

9. Again the torrent rose, and again I wavered; but by keeping the left hip well against it, I remained upright, and at length grasped the hand of my leader at the other side. He laughed pleasantly. The first victory was gained, and he enjoyed it. "No traveler," he said, "was ever here before." Soon afterward, by trusting to a piece of driftwood which seemed firm, I was again taken off my feet, but was immediately caught by a protruding rock.

10. We clambered over the bowlders toward the thickest spray, which soon became so weighty as to cause us to stagger under its shock. For the most part nothing could be seen; we were in the midst of bewildering

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