people,” and she looked fiercely in the direction of Fritz. But the latter did not care. He was getting his revenge for a certain neglect on the part of Amy from which he had suffered since she had become intimate with Brenda and her friends.
He drew another paper from his pocket, and Amy wondered what he would read next. In a flash she had decided that it would not be worth while to try to stop him now. The less she interfered with him, the more quickly would he probably stop his teasing. He was not fond of reading aloud. At least she had seldom been able to persuade him to read to cousin Joan. But, there! he had begun again, and Amy was forced to listen.
Oh, tree! Once proud, though fallen now,
In sorrow here my head I bow
To see thee stricken down.
Well hast thou worn thy grand old age!
Long hast withstood the tempest’s rage,
The cruel winter’s frown.
No storm, no tempest, laid thee low.
But man, the ruler, was thy foe.
And with unsparing hand
He hurled thee prostrate to the earth.
Regarding not thy royal birth,
King of the forest land!
“Oh, Fritz, do stop!” cried Amy.
But Fritz was remorseless. “Well, I’ll skip a little, but I must give the closing sentiments.”
"Struck by the smiter death, some day
Shall all of us,—poor common clay!
