Oh, to be out in the wild, fresh breezes, Borne on the breast of the wind away,Wandering whither my fancy pleases: Oh, to be out on the hills to-day!
Just to gather the sweet wild flowers,
Smiling up from the dewy grass;
To bury my face in the golden showers Of wattles whispering as I pass!
Just to thrill with the bliss of being, Singing my heart out in the sun,Glad with the simple joy of seeing, Free as the brooks that seaward run!
Oh, to roam where the sun is shining, Down where the everlastings grow,Up where the musk-leaves" silver lining Gleams in the light of the golden glow;Up where the peaks of the purple mountains Stand like sentinels guarding all,And the distant splash of the flowing fountainsStirs my blood like a bugle-call.
There, I know, are the glad birds singing Rippling carols of love and mirth; There, I know, are the blue-bells ringingFairy music o"er the earth.
-Marion Miller KnoWles
Drawn by John Rowell
Out on the Hills
About the Author.-Mrs. Marion Miller KnoWles, formerly Miss Marion Miller, was born in Gippsland, Victoria. She was for a time a teacher in State schools. She has written verse and prose for many newspapers and magazines, and also several books, of which the titles are Songs from the Hills, Country Sketches, Fronds from the Black Spur, Roses on the Window Sill, etc.
About the Poem.-Where and when does the wattle bloom? Name all the kinds of wattle you know. What flowers other than wattle-blossoms are mentioned in the poem? When are mountains purple? Why are they like sentinels? What are "flowing mountains"? What are "rippling carols"?
Lesson 41
A BRAVE AuSTRALIAN GIRL
THAT a girl could save between forty and fifty people from death by drowning seems hardly possible, and yet that is what Grace Bussell did. Her deed has gained for her the title of the Grace Darling of Australia.
Grace Bussell"s parents were early settlers near Cape Leeuwin, in Western Australia; and Grace grew up on the farm, taking her share in most of the work that had to be done. She learned to ride well, for she had often to be on horseback. The farmhouse was a long distance from any town. No other farmhouse could even be seen from it.
It happened one day in September, 1876, that a vessel, the Georgette, was wrecked off the coast, about eight miles from Mr. Bussell"s house. It had sprung a leak which let in water far more rapidly than it could be pumped out. The captain had done his best to reach a harbour, but was unable to do so. He had therefore run the vessel aground; but the sea became rough, andthe waves began to wash over the deck and loosen the timbers.
The lifeboat which the vessel carried was lowered, but it leaked, and eight people who had ventured into it were drowned. The rest of the crew clung to parts of the ship. Though the shore was near, no one cared to try to swim to it, for the surf ran fiercely.
No house was in sight, but help was near, though they knew it not. Grace Bussell, attended by a black servant, was riding along at a short distance from the shore, looking for some cows that had strayed. She caught sight of the vessel in distress, and in a moment or two had turned her horse"s head and was galloping towards it.
Drawn by John Rowell
"She caught sight of the vessel in distress."When she reached the sea, without pausing to thinkof the risk she was running, she rode her horse into the angry surf. The blackfellow followed her. Urging her horse with whip and voice, she kept on till she came almost to the side of the vessel.
With some difficulty a child was handed to her, andshe placed it before her on the saddle. Then, with two orDrawn by John Rowell
"She set out for the shore."
three people clinging to the saddle, she set out for the shore. She gained it in safety, and returned Grace and the faithful blackfellow went backwards and forwards for four hours, till all were safe on land.
Wet and tired as she was, she still had something more to do. The people whom she had saved from death were much in need of food, and ought to be provided with shelter before night came on. So Grace, without giving herself time to rest, rode home for help. By the time she had gone the eight miles, she was so worn out that she fainted, and it was fully half an hour before she could give an account of what had taken place.
As soon as she had done so, however, her sister got some food and a quantity of wraps together, and then started off in a buggy to the shipwrecked people. The next day they were all taken to Mr. Bussell"s house.
Grace and her brave servant well deserved the Royal Humane Society"s medal, which was presented to each of them on the 8th of January, 1878. Writing of the event, a Western Australian bishop said, "Strange to say, she and her family just think that all they did was the most natural thing in the world."About the Author.-The author is not known. The tale appears, however, though not in the same words, in Stories of the Royal Humane Society, by Frank Mundell, published by the Sunday- school Union, London.
About the Story.-Find Cape Leeuwin on the map. Leeuwin is a Dutch word meaning "lioness." It was given its name by a Dutch explorer, whose ship was named the Leeuwin. Cape Leeuwin is a meeting place for currents, and the waves are often high there.
Lesson 42
OVER THE RANGE.
"LITTLE bush maiden, wondering-eyed, Playing alone in the creek-bed dry,In the small green flat on every side
Walled in by the Moonbi Ranges high. Tell us the tale of your lonely lifeMid the great grey forests that know no change." "I never have left my home," she said.
"I have never been over the Moonbi Range."
"Father and mother are both long dead, And I live with granny in yon wee place.""Where are your father and mother?" we said.
She puzzled awhile with a thoughtful face; Then a light came into the shy, brown eye,And she smiled, for she thought the question strangeOn a thing so certain- "When people die, They go to the country over the range.""And what is this country like, my lass?"
"There are blossoming trees and pretty flowers,And shining creeks where the golden grass