and if the breath were stopt, we all know that we should die. How it is that the air does this would take a long time to tell, and you must learn a great deal more of such things than you have yet done, to know why air keeps up life. But so it is. The air is the breath.

It is the breath, too, that makes us warm and keeps us so; for if it were not for the air we breathe, we should be as cold as stones.

The air it is that makes fire burn. The fire in the grate would soon go out if it were not for the air. The flame in a lamp burns dim when it has not so much air as it wants; and when the air is shut from the flame it goes out.

Trees and plants could not live if they had not air. The birds fly by means of the air, which helps to keep them up, while their wings flap up and down. If there were no air, they could not rise from the ground at all, nor could they live if they did not breathe.

It is the air which makes sound. We could not hear men talk, nor bells ring, if the air did not bring the sound to our ears.

Of such great use is the air, though we can not see it, that no one thing could move, or be heard, or live, if it were not with us and round us.

SAIB, THE BLACK BOY.

In a far-off part of the world there is a place where the boys and girls have not the white fair skins that boys and girls have here, but whose skins are quite black, and whose hair is short and thick, like black wool. Some of these poor things know not what it is to have a home, they know not what it is to have kind friends, they know not what it is to do as they would like to do: they must do all that he who has bought them bids them do.

Yes, he who has bought them! for these poor boys and girls can be bought and sold. They are put on board ships that sail far from the homes of their hearts; they are torn from all they like best in the world, from all they have had to love. Far, far off from these scenes do they sail, and with swoln hearts, and tears too big to fall, they feel that they must work or die. Some would think it a joy to die, for death would put an end to what they feel. They think, too, that when they die they will go back to the home round which their thoughts cling.

Saib was one of these poor boys—he was born in that far-off place. As long as he was there, each day was to him a day of joy. Saib had a dear friend, who was near him at all times, and who took part in all his sports, and had a tear for all his pains.

Boa was the name of this friend, and she would sit in the same deep shade with him, and they would climb the same tall tree, and eat the same fruits. They would row in the same boat, and go fast down the dark deep stream. There were, too, those who were glad to see their joy, and who would watch them as they went on and on, till they were far out of sight. They knew no fear—they had no cause for fear, but in the shape of a white man.

It was in one of these sails down the stream that they drew their boat to the shore at a place that was quite strange to them. They got out of it, and went on till they had gone far in a strange wild spot. On and on they went, till the step of Boa was not so firm as it had been; it was less firm each time she put her foot to the ground.

"I can walk no more," she said at last; and quite faint and worn out, she lay down on the ground. Poor Saib! he all at once thought of their lorn state, and of how far they were from their home and from help. There was no sound to be heard, and not a breath of air: all was a still dead calm.

The strength of Saib, too, was gone—he could hold out no more; and he, too, sank on the ground. There they both lay, quite worn out with so much toil; and they fell to sleep. How long they had lain thus they could not know, for when the next day's sun was far on his course, where were they then?

All was strange to them—like the queer things dreams are made of. So they shut their eyes once more, and thought they dreamt about the white men.

But it was no dream: they did see the white men! Yes, it was the white men who had put those cords round their hands and feet. There they lay, like logs of wood thrown on a plank, a man at each end of the plank, and these men took poor Saib and Boa.

For a long time the minds of poor Saib and Boa were in such a state that they could not think, nor could they call to mind how they came to be where they were. Thus did they go for miles, till at last they came near the sea coast, and Saib saw a ship out at sea, with her sails spread. Close to the shore was a small boat, near which there were two or three black men, who, as Saib and the rest came in sight, rose up in haste, and the sound of a gun was heard. Saib did not know if this sound came from the ship or the boat, but as soon as it was heard there was a great rush of men to the sea shore.

THE FIGHT.
Page 37.

Where these men came from it would have been hard to guess, for they rose up all at once, as if they had sprung out of the earth. Long had they lain in wait to try if they could keep that ship from the shore, for that ship was a slave ship, and the white men meant to take on board all the blacks they could seize. That it was a slave ship had been found out by scouts set to watch this part of the coast.

Great was the joy of Saib when he saw the chance of help—when he thought that he should once more be free! The fight was a fight of blood, and some on each side were left dead on the shore.

The ship came near to the shore, and soon a boat was put out in which there were more white men. Few of the poor blacks were left, and those that were took to flight when they saw that all hope was gone.

Saib was one of those who could not take to flight. His cords had been cut off at the first of the fight, but such was his state of mind, so much did he feel from hope and fear, that he could not move, nor make use of his limbs.

And, oh! what a sight for him to see! There was Boa, his friend—the poor girl for whom he had more love than he had for all else on the earth—there she was on the ground at his feet. She would not look at him more; he would hear her voice no more: Boa lay there, dead!

From this time he had no sense of what was said or done; he had no care, no thought, for what might be done to him. So there he stood mute and still, like a thing cut in stone.

Some time he had stood thus when there was seen far off a dense cloud like dust.

"They come! they come!" said the white men. "More blacks are on us! To the ship! to the ship!"

Saib knew not what was said or done, and if he had heard, there would have been no help for him. He was thrown in the boat with two or three more blacks, and then from the boat he was flung on board the ship, and the ship set sail.

Fast did she cut through the sea, and soon was far out of sight of land. It was well for Saib that he could not feel. Four or five days ran their course, and still was Saib in this state.

The first words he heard when he came to his senses were—"He is not dead, I tell you."

"I tell you he is," a voice said: "it is of no use to keep him, so here he goes—(Saib felt a hand)—and let the sea take the rest of him."

Poor Saib had but so much strength left that he could just raise his arm.

"There, there!" said the first voice, "I told you he was not dead, and now you see."

"Well, let him be, then, but he shall pay us well for this; he shall bring us a good price."

Saib could hear no more; but the first man, who was a kind one, went to get some warm drink to put in Saib's mouth. He put more and still more, till at length Saib could move and raise his head.

"Boa! Boa!" were the first words he spoke; and he put his hands to his eyes,