“But I honored the boys who did it, in particular the one who told ‘How well Horatius kept the bridge, in the brave days of old!’ I admired the high heroic style, I longed to do the same, And watched the others with beating heart, and cheeks that were all aflame. “I had an elder sister then, such an one, my boys, have you— Good, and sweet, and pretty”—and then he smiled at Sue— “She said I could learn a simple piece, learn it, and speak it well; I didn’t want anything _simple_, I wanted a piece that would _tell_. “And so I chose for my first attempt: ‘The Seminole’s Reply,’ You’ll find it in some old reader—tells how Indians defy— And Kate she taught it to me, taught me to speak each line— ’Twas for the exhibition; I practiced what hours were mine. “I practiced when I went after the cows, when I went to gather eggs, And frightened the hens and roosters off of their yellow legs. Up in the garret chamber, back the old rafters gave: ‘I ne’er will ask you quarter, and I ne’er will be your slave!’ “The day of exhibition came, as all such days will come, The schoolroom was packed and crowded—all of them went from home— And I sat there and trembled, from my shining boots to my crown, And wished that the floor might open and quietly let me down. “At length I mounted the platform, but how, I never knew, I knew they had called upon me, and somehow I must get through. I made my bow, I know I did, I raised my head to speak, Then the people swam around me, I felt my knees grow weak— “‘Blaze! with your serried columns!’ ’twas to sound like a clarion’s call, I opened my mouth, and formed the words, but I didn’t _blaze_ at all. My throat was parched and swollen, there was ringing in my ears, There was blackness all around me, I forgot my awful fears. “I reeled, and then plunged headlong down from my lofty place, And next I was out in the dooryard with water on my face, And Kate was bending over me, fanning, to give me air, And mother was gently bathing that wound near the edge of my hair. “And that was how I got the scar; but, boys, _I didn’t give in_, I resolved as old Demosthenes, sooner or later to win. I resolved to be an orator, then and there, that day, And so I never faltered, though to me ’twas a thorny way. “But, let me tell you one thing, here: whatever you aim to do You’ll be pretty sure to do it, if you _will_ to carry it through.” And then the lecturer said: “My boys, it is late and we must part.” But father said: “Robert and Christopher, take that lesson to heart.” EMILY BAKER SMALLE. _Volume 13, Number 42._ Copyright, 1886, by D. LOTHROP & CO. _August 21, 1886._ THE PANSY. [Illustration: “I WEAR TROUSERS, AND YOU DON’T!”] A PACKAGE FOR ROSE. NO. II.