Where the tinkling brooklet passes Through the heart of dewy grasses, Will and I Have heard the mock-bird singing, And the field lark seen upspringing, In his happy flight afar, Like a tiny winged star-- Will and I.
Amid cool forest closes, We have plucked the wild wood-roses, Will and I; And have twined, with tender duty, Sweet wreaths to crown the beauty Of the purest brows that shine With a mother-love divine, Will and I.
Ah! thus we roam together, Through the golden summer weather, Will and I; While the glowing sunbeams bless us, And the winds of heaven caress us, As we wander hand in hand O'er the blissful summer land, Will and I.
Write about what you and Will _saw, heard,_ and _did,_ as you roamed together over the hills, through the woods, along the brooklet, on a certain bright, clear day in early summer. You are a country boy and Will is your city cousin. If you begin your composition by saying, "It was a beautiful afternoon towards the end of June," keep the image of the day in mind till the end of the paragraph; tell what _made_ the day beautiful,--such as the sun, the sky, the trees, the grass. In other paragraphs tell the things you saw and heard in the order in which you saw and heard them. Give a paragraph to what you did in the "closes" of the cool forest, and why you plucked the wild flowers. Conclude by telling what a pleasant surprise you gave mother on your return home; and how she surprised you two hungry boys during supper.
In your composition, use as many of the words and phrases of the poem as you can.
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[Illustration: Tiny Tim and Bob Cratchit.]
Then up rose Mrs. Cratchit, dressed out but poorly in a twice-turned gown, but brave in ribbons, which are cheap; and she laid the cloth, assisted by Belinda Cratchit, second of her daughters, also brave in ribbons; while Master Peter Cratchit plunged a fork into the saucepan of potatoes, and getting the corners of his monstrous shirt-collar (Bob's private property, conferred upon his son and heir in honor of the day) into his mouth, rejoiced to find himself so gallantly attired. And now two smaller Cratchits, boy and girl, came tearing in, screaming that outside the baker's they had smelt the goose, and known it for their own; and, basking in luxurious thoughts of sage and onions, they danced about the table, and exalted Master Peter Cratchit to the skies, while he (not proud, although his collar nearly choked him) blew the fire, until the potatoes, bubbling up, knocked loudly at the saucepan-lid to be let out and peeled.