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126
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
A STAE LESSON.
BY AN EX-BOY.
< eight o’clock on any evening
about October 20th, Lyra will
be shining too brightly in the
north-west to be mistaken for any other
star. It will be a little more than half
way up from the horizon to a point over
our heads. A line drawn from that
point (just over-head) to Lyra, and con
tinued until it meets the horizon, will
pass through a beautiful little cluster,
called the Northern Crown. It is about
twenty degrees from the horizon. It is
considerably more like its name than
many of the clusters, as it is not hard
to make out a beautiful wreath or crown
of its brightest stars. Its brightest star,
Alphacca.is of the second magnitude,and
certainly outshines the brightest gem in
any earthly crown. A little star in that
cluster startled the star-gazing world in
1866. It suddenly flared up, and fora
few weeks was almost as bright as Al
phacca, when it died away, and now
can scarcely be seen with the naked
eye. What did that mean ? Was it a
star on fire, ? You must ask the Astro
nomer about these things, if you wish
to find them out. Read and think, and
you will know.
Nearly all the space between Lyra
and the Northern Crown is filled up by
Hercules, whose big body lies sprawl
ing among the stars, stretching from the
Dragon’s Head, up there in the north
west, down almost to the western point
of tbe horizon. And yet in all that
space there is not one star of the first
magnitude 1 His brightest star is one
in his head. You can find it in the
west, low down, at a point which will
make with Lyra and Altair an equal
sided triangle.
About five degrees above it is one
about equally bright, which marks the
head of Serpentarius.
*•••*•*
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
THE SUNBEAM’S STOEY.
\ NE summer afternoon, a lad,
whom I shall call Harry, took
His Latin book and went into
the garden to learn his lesson. After a
while he became weary, and leaning his
head against the peach tree, at the foot
of which he lay, he looked through its
green branches at the blue sky above.
A gentle breeze fanned his cheek;
merry sunbeams played around him;
the air was fragrant with the perfume
of flowers, and musical with the songs
of birds. Harry thought he had never
seen a lovelier day. He wished that
his whole life could be spent amid such
a scene—that, like the sunbeams, he
could have nothing to do but play the
livelong day. Beguiling the time with
BURKE’S WEEKLY FOR BOYS AND GIRLS.
thoughts of the happy days he could
thus spend, he yielded to the soft influ
ences of the scene around him, and fell
into a sweet slumber.
But though Harry slept, his waking
thoughts followed him into the land of
dreams. He thought that one sunbeam
played about him more merrily than all
of its companions. He exclaimed :
“Oh! pretty sunbeam, I do not won
der that you sparkle so brightly, and
dance so merrily ; you have nothing to
do but enjoy yourself day after day.”
What was his surprise to hear the
sunbeam answer in a low, sweet tone:
“It is true, I am vex-y happy, Harry;
but not in idleness, as you suppose. 1
am happy in performing every moment
the work which my Creator has ap
pointed me to do.”
“You! Sunbeam,” replied the as
tonished Harry, “what work can you
have to do ? ”
“ I have not long to loiter,” laughed
the cheery sunbeam, resting lightly on
Harry’s breast; “but I will whisper to
you of some things I have done to
day.”
Harry listened breathlessly, and the
bright beam continued:
“Before your eyes were open this
morning, Harry, I was hastening, with
millions of my companions, through
trackless space, to reach this world —
the scene of our labors. The grey
dawn which heralded our approach
awoke the feathered tribe ; and when
our shining wings touched this sphere,
the air was already vocal with their
joyful morning lays.
“I spied a tiny Bluebell weighted
down by the heavy dew; silently, I
sipped the dew, and the pretty flower
raised its graceful head towards hea
ven. I glided upon a sprig of grass at
its feet, and tinged it a deeper green.
I crept on a bed of Violets close by,
dipped between the clustering leaves,
and warmed into life the fragrant blue
buds. I painted a Tulip’s cup the gay
est crimson and gold. I opened a Lily’s
petals, and my magic touch left it glis
tening in snow-white purity. I rested
upon the queenly Dahlia, and its bril
liant petals glowed with still brighter
hues. I kissed the lips of a Rosebud,
and it unfolded the sweetest, fairest
bloom in all the garden.
“Then I crossed the yard, and peep
ed through the curtains of Allie’s bed
room, letting my brightest smile shine
for a moment on the little maiden’s
face; she waked, sprang up, crying,
‘ How glad I am that sunbeam shone
upon my eyes! I wanted to be up
early, and gather a sweet bouquet for
dear grandma, for this is her birthday.’
And then I heard the child’s voice re
peating her morning prayer. I crossed
the brook, and the little fishes flashed
their fins gleefully in my light. I en
tered the forest, and woke the cunning
squirrels, and set them jumping from
tree to tree, playing and collecting
nuts. I have patiently traversed hill
and dale, garden, orchard and field —
maturing fruit, and grain, and every
kind of vegetation.
“ I have told you this much, Harry ;
shall I pause to speak of the many
scenes of joy and of distress, of splen
dor and destitution, in which I have
mingled to-day? I must not linger ; a
few more words, and I hasten to com
plete my work.
“ In an elegant mansion, a fair young
bride plighted her troth to one who had
sought and won her love; as the peti
tion for Heaven’s blessing on their
union ascended, I nestled lovingly
among the orange-buds which adorned
her brow, and her friends smilingly
said— ‘ Happy the bride whom the sun
shines upon! ’
“ Once more on quick wing I sped,
and now it was through a grating of
strong iron bars that I entered ; a
gloomy sight I looked upon. The wan,
ghastly occupant of that dismal cell sat
upon the side of his hard bed, looking
hopelessly on the ground ; l-aising his
glance, he discovered me, as I strug
gled, in pity, to creep near his side.
‘Can it be,’ said he, ‘a sunbeam in
this dark cell? An outcast from the
world, despised as I am, can it be that
God’s sunshine deigns to come to com
fort me?’ And, as he gazed at my
bright beam, he thought of his sunny
childhood, when, innocent and gay, he
sported all day in the sunshine. He
recalled the gentle mother who loved
him so tenderly, and strove to teach
her boy to walk the straight paths of
integrity and peace. He thought of
that mother’s grave, where the sun
shine now fell upon the long grass ; he
thought of her deathless spirit now
resting on the bosom of the Saviour in
whom she had trusted; and his hard
heart melted, and his soul was bowed
in penitance and prayer—true sorrow
for his crimes, and earnest prayer that
one so vile as he might be washed in
that blood which alone can cleanse
from sin.”
The sunbeam ceased. Hariy sighed
as he dwelt upon the last sad picture
portrayed to him. A moment after, he
was awakened by the soft fall of a
luscious peach which had hung just
over him ; the warm sunshine had fully
ripened and mellowed it, and tinged it
with the prettiest red and yellow hues,
and now it fell from its stem, striking
upon his breast where the sunbeam in
his dream had rested. Fannie Low.
THE BUENING LIGHTHOUSE,
A VIE,” said the lighthouse
keeper to his little son, a
bright boy of about twelve
years of age, “ I want to go over to the
village for supplies. The paraffine is
used up, and 1 must get some more im
mediately. I expect to be back before
dart; but if I’m not, you must light
the lamps, will you?”
“ Os course, father,” said Davie, “I’ve
often lighted them before.”
“ Yes ; but that was when I was with
you.”
“ Isn’t it just as easy to do it
alone ? ”
“ I suppose it is ; but then you’ve
never been left alone before, you
know.”
“0, never fear; I can attend to
them as well as you.”
“Well, I’ll be back before dark,
that’s almost certain. Still, if any
thing should happen to keep me, you’ll
light up.”
“ 0 yes,” said Davie, with a confi
dent smile.
“ You won’t be afraid, if I shouldn’t
come back?”
“Why, what should I be afraid of,
I wonder?” said Davie.
“Nothing; but then you knox boys
are sometimes afraid when there is
nothing to fear.”
“ 0 well, father, I’m not that sort,
you know.”
Davie’s confident tone seemed to
comfort his father, and in a short time
the keeper had descended the light
house steps into his boat, and had put
out upon the water towards the town.
The lighthouse was erected at the
extremity of a long bar, that ran from
the main land, and was composed of
#hich had
up there by the waves. It was at the
entrance to a strait which was fre
quently navigated, and all around were
reefs and sand-banks, through which
the tortuous channel ran. The tides
j;ose high, and the current ran very
swiftly past the lighthouse. At high
tide there was deep water all around it;
but at low tide all the bar was unco
vered, and one could go to the shore
on foot.
In this place Davie had lived alone
with his father. He had often assisted
him ; and often, under his guidance, he
had filled the lamps, and trimmed, and
lighted them. He understood the whole
business, and though he had never be
fore been left to tend them alone, yet
he had often done so when his father
was there, and there was no reason
why he should not do so when he was
absent.
The village was not many miles away,
but the tide was rising now, and would
be falling towards evening ; in which
case a strong wind would be necessary
to bring back the boat against the
powerful current. If the wind should
fail, or become unfavorable, the light
keeper could not get back that night;
and this was the reason why he was
anxious to find out how Davie felt
about passing the night alone.
After his father had left, Davie
amused himself through the day as best
he could. Evening came at last, but
there were no signs of his father’s boat.
The wind had died away, and Davie