GOLDEN GRAIN

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COPYRIGHTED 1884. J.C. CHILTON & CO.

PRESS OF RAYNOR & TAYLOR, 75 BATES STREET. DETROIT.

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It has been the constant endeavor of the publishers of GOLDEN GRAIN, to produce a book in every respect worthy to be classed among the very best works offered to an intelligent public.

Many of the selections are protected by copyright and for the use of such, special thanks are due to the following publishers, for the courtesies extended.

To Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co., for selections from Longfellow, Whittier, and Miss Cary; Messrs. D. Lothrop & Co., for use of selections from Mrs. Piatt, Paul Hayne, and Mary D. Brine; and to those authors who have furnished special contributions, we are under many obligations.

The volume is sent forth with the belief that such a work will meet with appreciative readers all over the land.

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The best introduction to a book is a glance at its pages, an examination of its illustrations and the names of its authors.

In all the essentials which go to make up a work which shall meet with popular favor and a wide range of readers, the Editor and Publishers confidently believe that GOLDEN GRAIN presents a high standard of excellence.

That all tastes might be suited, the literature of all modern nations has been searched and selections of the highest standard made therefrom.

Golden Grain only has been garnered. The great fields of knowledge have been visited, and none but the choicest and ripest kernels have been chosen.

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Young Folks must, and will, have something to read—something to feed the mind as well as the body. It therefore becomes a very important duty of parents to make choice of such books as are pure in tone and elevating in sentiment; and it follows also, as night follows day, that if parents fail or neglect this duty the young folks themselves will find something to read, nor will they be so careful in their selections.

In GOLDEN GRAIN will be found a work in every respect worthy of a place in the Family Circle. Its pages lend inspiration to fight life's battles nobly. Those who go out from a home with noble impulses, pure motives, and true hearts will bear the burden of Earth's cares, duties and disappointments with patience and resignation, having

"A heart to resolve, a head to contrive and a hand to execute."

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"SUMMER."

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HARVEST SONG.

JOHN G. WHITTIER.

O Painter of the fruits and flowers! We thank Thee for thy wise design Whereby these human hands of ours In Nature's garden work with thine. And thanks that from our daily need The joy of simple faith is born; That he who smites the summer weed, May trust Thee for the autumn corn. Give fools their gold, and knaves their power; Let fortune's bubbles rise and fall; Who sows a field, or trains a flower, Or plants a tree, is more than all. For he who blesses most is blest; [Pg 14] And God and man shall own his worth, Who toils to leave as his bequest An added beauty to the earth. And, soon or late, to all that sow, The time of harvest shall be given; The flowers shall bloom, the fruit shall grow, If not on earth, at last in heaven!

MINUTE MEN OF LIBERTY.

Delivered on the one-hundredth anniversary of the battle of Lexington, Mass., by GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS, April 19, 1875.

After reviewing the leading incidents of the battle of Lexington, in 1775, and the subsequent victories of Washington; and closing with a brilliant picture of the final triumph of the Colonial troops, Mr. Curtis said:

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"Not such are our enemies to-day. They do not come proudly stepping to the drum-beat, with bayonets flashing in the morning sun. But wherever party spirit shall strain the ancient guarantees of Freedom, or bigotry and ignorance shall lay their fatal hands upon education, or the ignorance of caste shall strike at equal rights, or corruption shall poison the very springs of national life, there, Minutemen of Liberty are your Lexington-Green and Concord-Bridge, and as you love your country and your kind, and would have your children rise up and call you blessed, spare not the enemy! Over the hills, out of the earth, down from the clouds pour in resistless might. [Pg 16] "NOT SUCH ARE OUR ENEMIES TO-DAY." Fire! fire from every rock and tree, from every door and window, from hearthstone and chamber; hang upon his flank and rear from noon to sunset, and so through a land blazing with holy indignation, hurl the hordes of ignorance, corruption and injustice back, back into utter defeat and ruin!"

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THE CHILDREN'S HOUR.

HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.

Between the dark and the daylight, When night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the children's hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study I see in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair.

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"BLUE-EYED BANDITTI."

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SONG OF THE BROOK.

ALFRED TENNYSON.

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EULOGY ON GARFIELD.

Surely if happiness can ever come from the honors or triumphs of this world, on that quiet July morning, James A. Garfield may well have been a happy man. No foreboding of evil haunted him; no slightest premonition of danger clouded his sky. His terrible fate was upon him in an instant. One moment he stood erect, strong, confident, in the years stretching peacefully out before him. The next he lay wounded, bleeding, helpless, doomed to weary weeks of torture, to silence, and the grave.

Great in life, he was surpassingly great in death. For no cause, in the very frenzy of wantonness and wickedness, by the red hand of murder, he was thrust from the full tide of this world's interest, from its hopes, its aspirations, its victories, into the visible presence of death—and he did not quail. Not alone for the one short moment in which, stunned and dazed, he could give up life, hardly aware of its relinquishment, but through days of deadly languor, through weeks of agony, that [Pg 24] was not less agony because silently borne, with clear sight and calm courage, he looked into his open grave. What blight and ruin met his anguished eyes, whose lips may tell! Before him desolation and great darkness! And his soul was not shaken.

Masterful in his mortal weakness, he became the center of a nation's love, enshrined in the prayers of a world. But all the love and all the sympathy could not share with him his suffering. He trod the wine-press alone. With unfaltering front he faced death. With unfailing tenderness he took leave of life. Above the demoniac hiss of the assassin's bullet he heard the voice of God. With simple resignation he bowed to the divine decree.

GEMS FROM JAS. A. GARFIELD.

If there be one thing upon this broad earth that mankind love and admire, better than another, it is a brave man—it is a man who dares look the Devil in the face and tell him he is a Devil.

Be fit for more than the thing you are now doing.

Things don't turn up in this world till somebody turns them up.

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AT THE FIRESIDE.

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THE FROST SPIRIT.

JOHN G. WHITTIER.

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"THE FISHERMAN'S SAIL IS STIFF WITH ICE."

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THE ARROW AND THE SONG.

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