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he was sent as envoy to France; he was made Secretary of State ; and finally he became Chief Justice of the United States. The greatest judges looked up to him and listened to what he said, as if that decided everything. When he died at the age of eighty, he was one of the greatest and most famous men in America.

My father knew him well and loved him, and told me many things about him.

He was very tall and thin, and dressed very plainly. He wore a suit of plain black cloth and common yarn stockings, which fitted tightly to his legs and showed how thin they were.

He was a very great walker, and would often walk out to his farm which was several miles from Richmond. But sometimes he went on horseback, and once he was met riding out with a bag of clover seed on the saddle before him.

His manners were plain and simple, and he liked to talk about everyday matters with plain country people, and laugh and jest with them. He never seemed to remember that he was a great man at all, and he often played quoits and other games with his coat off, as full of fun as a boy, and ready to laugh with everybody. In a word, he was so great a man that he never thought of appearing greater than other people, but was always the same unpretending John Marshall.

It was a fashion among the gentlemen of Richmond to walk to market early in the morning and buy fresh meats and vegetables for their family dinners. a good old fashion, and some famous gentlemen continued to do so to the end of their lives. It was the habit of Judge Marshall, and very often he took no servant with him. He would buy what he wanted and return home, carrying his purchases on his arm ; and on

This was

one of these occasions a little incident occurred which is well worth telling and remembering.

Judge Marshall had made his purchases at the market and was just starting for home when he heard some one using very rough and unbecoming language. He turned round and saw what was the cause of the hubbub. A finely dressed young man, who seemed to be a stranger, had just bought a turkey in the market, and finding that it would not be carried home for him became very angry.

Judge Marshall listened a moment to his ungentlemanly talk, and then stepping up to him asked, very kindly, “ Where do you live, sir ?”

The young man looked at the plainly dressed old countryman, as he supposed him to be, and then named the street and number where he lived.

“I happen to be going that way,” said Judge Marshall, with a smile, “and I will take it for you.

The young man handed him the turkey and left the market, followed by Judge Marshall. When they reached the young man's home, Marshall politely handed him the turkey and turned to go.

“ What shall I pay you ? ” asked the young man.

Oh, nothing,” answered Marshall; “you are welcome. It was on my way, and no trouble at all." He bowed and walked away, while the young man looked after him, beginning now to see that he had made a mistake.

“Who is that polite old gentleman who carried my turkey for me?” he asked of a friend who was passing.

“That is John Marshall, Chief Justice of the United States," was the answer. The young man was astounded and ashamed.

66 But why did he offer to carry my turkey ?” he exclaimed.

“ To give you a reprimand and teach you to attend to your own business and behave like a gentleman.”

This little anecdote will show you the character of John Marshall ; and I cannot believe that it was his wish merely to reprimand the foolish young man. He was too sweet-tempered and kind to take pleasure in reprimanding any one; and I have no doubt that he carried the turkey simply from the wish to be obliging.

BREAK, BREAK, BREAK.

By ALFRED Tennyson.

Break, break, break,

On thy cold gray stones, O sea !
And I would that my tongue could utter

The thoughts that arise in me.

Oh, well for the fisherman's boy,

That he shouts with his sister at play!
Oh, well for the sailor lad,

That he sings in his boat on the bay!

And the stately ships go on

To their haven under the hill;
But oh for the touch of a vanished hand,

And the sound of a voice that is still !

Break, break, break,

At the foot of thy crags, O sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead

Will never come back to me.

LITTLE ANNIE'S RAMBLE.

BY NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.

I.

Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong!

The town-crier has rung his bell at a distant corner, and little Annie stands on her father's doorstep, trying to hear what the man with the loud voice is talking about.

Let me listen, too. Oh! he is telling the people that an elephant, and a lion, and a royal tiger, and a horse with horns, and other strange beasts from foreign countries, have come to town, and will receive all visitors who choose to wait upon them. Perhaps little Annie would

like to go.

Yes; and I can see that the pretty child is weary

of this wide and pleasant street, with the green trees flinging their shade across the quiet sunshine, and the sidewalks all as clean as if the housemaid had just swept them with her broom. She feels that impulse to go strolling away — that longing after the mystery of the great world - which many children feel, and which I felt in my childhood.

Little Annie shall take a ramble with me. See! I do but hold out my hand, and like some bright bird in sunny air she comes bounding on tiptoe, across the street.

Smooth back your brown curls, Annie, and let me tie on your bonnet, and we will set forth.

What a strange couple to go on their rambles together! One walks in black attire, with a measured step and a heavy brow, and his thoughtful eyes bent down; while the gay little girl trips lightly along, as if she were forced to keep hold of my hand lest her feet should dance away from the earth.

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Yet there is sympathy between us. If I pride myself on anything, it is because I have a smile that children love; and on the other hand, there are few grown ladies that could entice me from the side of little Annie ; for I delight to let my mind go hand in hand with the mind of a sinless child. So come, Annie ; but if I moralize as we go, do not listen to me; only look about you and be merry!

Now we turn the corner. Here are hacks with two horses, and stagecoaches with four, thundering to meet each other, and trucks and carts moving at a slower pace, being heavily laden with barrels from the wharves ; and here are rattling gigs, which perhaps will be smashed to pieces before our eyes. Hitherward, also, comes a man trundling a wheelbarrow along the pavement. Is not little Annie afraid of such a tumult? No; she does not even shrink closer to my side, but passes on with fearless confidence, a happy child amidst a great throng of grown people who pay the same reverence to her infancy that they would to extreme old age.

Nobody jostles her; all turn aside to make way for little Annie; and what is most singular, she appears conscious of her claim to such respect. Now her eyes brighten with pleasure. A street musician has seated himself on the steps of yonder church, and pours forth his strains to the busy town,-a melody that has gone astray among the tramp of footsteps, the buzz of voices, and the war of passing wheels. Who heeds the poor organ grinder ? None but myself and little Annie, , whose feet begin to move in unison with the lively tune, as if she were loath that music should be wasted without a dance.

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