5 10 15 Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot grave where our hero we buried. O'er the We buried him darkly at dead of night, No useless coffin inclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, We thought as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow. Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, But little he'll reck if they let him sleep on But half our weary task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone — Sir John Moore was an English general in command of an English army in the Peninsular War. After the capture of Madrid by Napoleon, Moore retreated before the French to Corunna in Northwest Spain, and was killed while superintending the embarkation of his troops, January 16, 1809. was necessary to bury him on the spot. Corse: corpse. It Catherine's Discovery BY JANE AUSTEN Jane Austen (1775-1817): An English author. She wrote "Sense and Sensibility," "Northanger Abbey," "Pride and Prejudice," and several other novels. Her characters are drawn from the middle rank of English society, and are remarkable for their truth to human nature. This selection is from "Northanger Abbey." Catherine Morland, a young lady who is very fond of reading tales of mystery, has arrived on a visit at Northanger Abbey, the home of General Tilney. The general's son, Henry, has mischievously tried to alarm her with stories of haunted chambers, mysterious cabinets, and other marvels. She goes to her bedroom after a dinner party. I 5 The night was stormy; the wind had been rising at intervals the whole afternoon; and by the time the party broke up, it blew and rained violently. Catherine, as she crossed the hall, listened to the tempest with sensa tions of awe; and when she heard it rage round a corner of the ancient building, and close with sudden fury a distant door, felt for the first time that she was really in an abbey. Yes, these were characteristic sounds: they brought to her recollection a countless variety of dreadful 5 situations and horrid scenes which such buildings had witnessed and such storms ushered in; and most heartily did she rejoice in the happier circumstances attending her entrance within walls so solemn ! But, in a house so furnished and so guarded, she could have nothing to ex- 10 plore or to suffer, and might go to her bedroom as securely as if it had been her own chamber at home. Thus wisely fortifying her mind as she proceeded upstairs, she was enabled to enter her room with a tolerably stout heart; and her spirits were immediately assisted by 15 the cheerful blaze of a wood fire. "How much better is this," said she, as she walked to the fender, "how much better to find a fire ready lit than to have to wait shivering in the cold till all the family are in bed, as so many poor girls have been obliged to do, 20 and then to have a faithful old servant frightening one by coming in with a fagot! She looked round the room. The window curtains. seemed in motion. It could be nothing but the violence. of the wind penetrating through the divisions of the 25shutters; and she stepped boldly forward, carelessly humming a tune, to assure herself of its being so, peeped courageously behind each curtain, saw nothing on either low window seat to scare, and, on placing a hand against the shutter, felt the strongest conviction of the wind's 30 force. She scorned the causeless fears of an idle fancy, and began with a most happy indifference to prepare herself for bed. "She should take her time; she should not hurry her5 self; she did not care if she were the last person up in the house. But she would not make up her fire; that would seem cowardly, as if she wished for the protection of light after she were in bed." The fire, therefore, died away; and Catherine was be10 ginning to think of stepping into bed, when, on giving a parting glance round the room, she was struck by the appearance of a high, old-fashioned black cabinet which had not caught her notice before. She took her candle and looked closely at the cabinet. It was Japan, black 15 and yellow Japan, of the handsomest kind; and as she held her candle, the yellow had very much the effect of gold. The key was in the door, and she had a strange fancy to look into it; not, however, with the smallest expecta20 tion of finding anything, but it was so very odd. In short, she could not sleep till she had examined it. So, placing the candle with great caution on a chair, she seized the key with a very tremulous hand and tried to turn it, but it resisted her utmost strength. Alarmed 25 but not discouraged, she tried it another way; a bolt flew, and she believed herself successful; but, how strangely mysterious! the door was still immovable. She paused a moment in breathless wonder. The wind roared down the chimney, the rain beat in torrents against 30 the windows, and everything seemed to speak the awfulness of her situation. To retire to bed, however, unsatis |