Boekgegevens
Titel: First English reading book: Engelsch leesboek voor instituten, gymnasiën en hoogere burgerscholen: met Nederlandsche woordenlijst
Auteur: Herrig, Ludwig
Uitgave: Arnhem: J. Voltelen, 1869 *
Auteursrechten: Zie auteursrechten
Citeerinstructie: Bijzondere Collecties van de Universiteit van Amsterdam, UBM: IWO 513 H 21
URL: https://schoolmuseum.uba.uva.nl/bookid/LCSM_204683
Onderwerp: Taal- en letterkunde naar afzonderlijke talen: Engelse taalkunde
Trefwoord: Leesvaardigheid, Engels, Leermiddelen (vorm)
* jaar van uitgave niet op de gebruikelijke wijze verkregen, mogelijk betreft het een schatting
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   First English reading book: Engelsch leesboek voor instituten, gymnasiën en hoogere burgerscholen: met Nederlandsche woordenlijst
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Sally. I believe I should, mamma; for
then perhaps I might go to assemblies; and
to be sure I should hke to be as smart
then as at any time.
Mrs. M. Well, but it would be still
more improper for us to dress you then
beyond our circumstances, because your ne-
cessary clothes will then cost more, you
know. Then, if we were now to hire a
coach or chair for you to go a visitiug in,
should you like to leave it off ever after-
wards? But you have no reason to expect
that you will be able to have those indul-
gences when you are a woman. And so it
is in every thing else. The more fine
things and the more gratifications you have
now, the more you will require hereafter;
for custom makes things to familiar to us,
that while we enjoy them less, we want
them more.
Sally. How is that, mamma?
Mrs. M. Why, don't you think you have
enjoyed your ride in the coach this evening
more than Miss Harriet would have done?
Sally. I suppose I have; because if
Miss Harriet liked it so well, she would
be always riding, for 1 know she might
have the coach whenever she pleased.
Mrs. M. But if you were both told that
you were never to ride in a coach again,
which would think it the greater hardship?
You could walk, you know, as you have al-
ways done before; but she would rather
stay at home, I believe, than expose her-
self to the cold wind, and trudge through
the wet and dirt in pattens.
Sally. I believe so too; and now, mam-
ma, I see that all you have told me is very
right.
Mrs. M. Well, my dear, let it dwell
upon your mind, so as to make you cheer-
ful and contented in your station, which
you see is so much happier than that of
many other children. So now we will talk
no more on this subject.
179. THE BROTHERS.
We are but two — the others sleep
Through ^eath's untroubled night;
We are but two — 0, let us keep
The link that binds us bright.
Heart leaps to heart — the sacred flood
That warms us is the same;
That good old man — his honest blood
Alike we fondly claim.
We in one mother's arms were lock'd—
Long be her love repaid;
In the same cradle we were rock'd,
Round the same hearth we play'd.
Our boyish sports were all the same,
Each httle joy and wo; —
Let manhood keep alive the flame,
Lit up so long ago.
We are but two — be that the band
To hold us till we die;
Shoulder to shoulder let us stand,
Till side by side we he. (Sprague.)
180. THE ORPHANS.
My chaise the village inn did gain,
Just as the setting sun's last ray
Tipped with refulgent gold the vane
Of the old church across the way.
Across the way I silent sped.
The time till supper to beguile
In morahsing o'er the dead,
That mouldered round the ancient pile.
There manyan humble green grave showed
Where want, and pain, and toil did rest,
And many a flattering stone I viewed
O'er those who once had wealth possessed.
A faded beech, its shadow brown,
Threw o'er a grave where sorrow slept,
On which, though scarce with grass o'er-
grown,
Two ragged children sat and wept.
A piece of bread between them lay.
Which neither seemed inclined to take,
And yet they looked so much a prey
To want, it made my heart to ache.
'My little children, let me know
Why you in such distress appear.
And why you wasteful from you throw
That bread which many a one might
cheer?'
The little boy in accents sweet
Replied, while tears each other chased—
'Oh, sir! we've not enough to eat,
Oh! if we had, we should not waste.
But sister Mary's naughty grown.
And will not eat, whate'er I say.
Though sure I am the bread's her own,
For she has tasted none to-day.'
'Indeed,' the wan starved Mary said,
Till Henry eats, I'll eat no more,