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TO THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE CRICKET

LEIGH HUNT

LEIGH HUNT (1784-1859) was an English poet and man of letters.

NOTE. - This and the preceding sonnet were written as the result of a challenge to Keats by Hunt. Keats won, but said afterwards that he preferred Hunt's sonnet to his own.

5 Green little vaulter in the sunny grass,

Catching your heart up at the feel of June,

Sole voice that's heard amidst the lazy noon, When even the bees lag at the summoning brass; And you, warm little housekeeper, who class

With those who think the candles come too soon, Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune Nick the glad, silent moments as they pass;

O sweet and tiny cousins, that belong

One to the fields, the other to the hearth,

15 Both have your sunshine; both, though small, are strong At your clear hearts; and both seem given to earth To ring in thoughtful ears this natural song

In doors and out, summer and winter, Mirth.

summoning brass: it was an ancient custom, which has come down into recent times, to bring about the gathering of a swarm of bees by making a noise upon brass or other metal. — nick: to keep account of time by nicks or notches, as Robinson Crusoe did. The cricket, cutting the air with its sharp chirp, marks the moments.

THE PASHA'S SON

BAYARD TAYLOR

BAYARD TAYLOR was an American traveler, writer, and poet, who was born in Pennsylvania in 1825. He always liked travel and adventure, and his love for books was as great as his love of the out-of-door world. Many of his books are descriptive of his travels. He lived much in Germany, part of the time as United States minister. He died in Berlin in 1878.

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Among the Egyptian officers in the city of Khartoum was a Pasha named Rufah, who had been banished from Egypt by the Viceroy. He was a man of considerable education and intelligence, and was very unhappy at being sent away from his home and family. The climate of 10 Khartoum is very unhealthful, and this Pasha had suffered greatly from fever.

He was uncertain how long his exile would continue; he had been there already two years, and as all letters directed to him passed through the hands of the officers 15 of the government, he was quite at a loss how to get any help from his friends. What he had done to cause his banishment, I could not ascertain; probably he did not know himself.

There are no elections in those Eastern countries; the 20 people have nothing to do with the choice of their own rulers. The latter are appointed by the Viceroy at his

pleasure, and hold office only so long as he allows them. The envy or jealousy of one Pasha may lead to the ruin of another, without any fault on the part of the latter. Probably somebody else wanted Rufah Pasha's place, and 5 slandered him to the Viceroy for the sake of getting him removed and exiled.

The unhappy man inspired my profound sympathy. Sometimes he would spend the evening with the Consul

and myself, because he felt safe in our presence to com10 plain of the tyranny under which he suffered. When we

met him at the houses of the other Egyptian officers, he was very careful not to talk on the subject, lest they should report the fact to the government.

Being a foreigner and a stranger, I never imagined 15 that I could be of any service to Rufah Pasha. I did not speak the language well, I knew very little of the laws and regulations of the country, and, moreover, I intended simply to pass through Egypt on my return. Nevertheless, one night, when we happened to be walking the 20 streets together, he whispered that he had something special to say to me.

Although it was bright moonlight, we had a native servant with us to carry a lantern. The Pasha ordered the servant to walk on in advance; and a turn of the 25 narrow, crooked street soon hid him from our sight.

Everything was quiet except the rustling of the wind in the palm trees which rose above the garden walls.

"Now," said the Pasha, taking my hand, "now we can talk for a few minutes without being overheard. I want you to do me a favor.”

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Willingly," I answered; "if it is in my power."

"It will not give you much trouble," he said, "and may be of great service to me. I want you to take two letters to Egypt, -one to my son, who lives in the town of Tahtah, and one to Mr. Murray, the English Consul 10 General, whom you know. I cannot trust the Eygptian merchants, because if these letters were opened and read I might be kept here many years longer. If you deliver them safely, my friends will know how to assist me, and perhaps I may soon be allowed to return home."

I promised to deliver both letters with my own hands, and the Pasha parted from me in more cheerful spirits at the door of the Consul's house.

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After a few days I was ready to set out on the return journey. It was very easy to apprise Rufah Pasha of my 20 intention, and he had no difficulty in slipping the letters into my hand without the action being observed by any one. I put them into my portfolio with my own letters and papers, where they were entirely safe, and said nothing about the matter to any one in Khartoum.

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It was a long journey, and I should have to write many days in order to describe it. It was nearly two months before I could deliver the first of the Pasha's letters, that which he had written to his son. The town of 8 Tahtah is in Upper Egypt. It stands on a little mound, several miles from the Nile, and is surrounded by the rich and beautiful plain which is every year overflowed by the river.

After some little inquiry I found Rufah Pasha's house, 10 but was not admitted, because the Egyptian women are not allowed to receive the visits of strangers. There was a shaded entrance hall open to the street, where I was requested to sit while the black serving woman went to the school to bring the Pasha's son. My faithful servant 15 and I sat there, while the people of the town, who had heard that we came from Khartoum and knew the Pasha, gathered around to ask questions. They were all very polite and friendly, and seemed as glad to hear about the Pasha as if they belonged to his family. In a 20 quarter of an hour the woman came back, followed by the Pasha's son and the schoolmaster, who had dismissed his school in order to hear the news.

The boy was about eleven years old, but tall for his age. He had a fair face and large, dark eyes, and 25 smiled pleasantly when he saw me. If I had not known