Hail! bards triumphant! born in happier days; Immortal heirs of universal praise! Whose honors with increase of ages grow, As streams roll down, enlarging as they flow; Nations unborn your mighty names shall sound, [193] And worlds applaud that must not yet be found!


Those half learned witlings, numerous in our isle, As half formed insects on the banks of Nile Unfinished things one knows not what to call Their generation is so equivocal To tell them would a hundred tongues require, Or one vain wits that might a hundred tire.


Thus Pegasus a nearer way to take May boldly deviate from the common track Great wits sometimes may gloriously offend, And rise to faults true critics dare not mend, From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part, And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art, Which without passing through the judgment gains The heart and all its end at once attains.


Some praise at morning what they blame at night, But always think the last opinion right.


As shades more sweetly recommend the light, So modest plainness sets off sprightly wit For works may have more wit than does them good, As bodies perish through excess of blood.


Parties in wit attend on those of state, And public faction doubles private hate.


When first that sun too powerful beams displays, It draws up vapors which obscure its rays, But even those clouds at last adorn its way Reflect new glories and augment the day Be thou the first true merit to befriend His praise is lost who stays till all commend Short is the date alas!


Such once were critics such the happy few, Athens and Rome in better ages knew.


'Tis not enough your counsel still be true; Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do; Men must be taught as if you taught them not, And things unknown proposed as things forgot.


Thus long succeeding critics justly reigned, License repressed, and useful laws ordained.


Thee bold Longinus!


"Seeing you made her think of the children, poor thing  dear, dear, they're all dead but the youngest.


"Well, well, well, Washington, my boy, it _is_ good to look at you again. Sit down, sit down, and make yourself at home. There now  why, you look perfectly natural; ageing a little, just a little, but you'd have known him anywhere, wouldn't you, Polly?"


"Shucks, Colonel, I haven't even a vote." "That's nothing; you can make speeches."


It had a neglected yard around it, with a paling fence that needed straightening up in places, and a gate that would stay shut.


His loving old wife sat near by, contentedly knitting and thinking, with a cat asleep in her lap. The room was large, light and had a comfortable look  in fact, a homelike look  though the furniture was of a humble sort and not over abundant, and the knick knacks and things that go to adorn a living room not plenty and not costly.


The newest one had left the works as Andrew Jackson, but was doing its best now as "Simon Lathers Lord Rossmore, Present Earl."


There was no help for it, so I had to stoop a little  we all reach the day some time or other when we've got to do that, Washington, and it's not a bad thing for us, either, take it by and large all round  I had to stoop a little and offer to take Constantinople.


"It is wonderful, Colonel    simply wonderful." "It's the loftiest official position in the whole earth." "I should think so  and the most commanding." "You have named the word. Think of it! I frown, and there is war; I smile, and contending nations lay down their arms."


Oh, that we may learn to die to all that is of self with this royal joyfulness that swallows up death in victory in God's world around! He can make every step of the path full of the triumph of gladness that glows in the golden leaves. Glory be to His Name!


Thus are we responsible, not for the tangible results of our ministry to others, but for its being a ministry in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, such a ministry as will make those around us definitely responsible to God for accepting or rejecting the fulness of His salvation.


Does all this seem hard? Does any soul, young in this life and in that to come, shrink back and say "I would rather keep in the springtime  I do not want to reach unto the things that are before if it must mean all this of pain."


Death means a loosened grasp  loosened beyond all power of grasping again.


But far other is God's thought in the redemption of the world. He takes the very thing that came in with the curse, and makes it the path of glory. Death becomes a beginning instead of an ending, for it becomes the means of liberating a fresh life.


Only to no iron law with its merciless grasp do we let ourselves go, but into the hands of the Father: it is there that our spirit falls, as we are made conformable unto the death of Jesus.


The latent self life needs to be brought down into the place of death before His breath can carry us hither and thither as the wind wafts the seeds. Are we ready for this last surrender? Do you ask "Does God really mean the emptying to reach so far as this?"


Once allow the manifestation of His grace in these poor hearts of ours to be a miracle, and there is no need to defer it vaguely. How many of the wonders wrought by Christ on earth lay in concentrating the long processes of nature into a sudden act of power.


We cannot feel a consciousness of death: the words are a contradiction in terms. If we had literally passed out of this world into the next we should not feel dead, we should only be conscious of a new wonderful life beating within us.


Look again at a flowering rush. The crest breaks forth from nothingness  out of the lifeless seeming pith come crowding the golden brown blossoms, till there is hardly "room to receive" them. What more do we need for our souls than to have this God for our God?


And before the soul can really enter upon a life of holiness, with all its blessed endless possibilities, a like choice must be made: all known sin must be deliberately given up, that the rising current may have its full play.


Separation from all known sin is the starting point for santification, not the goal: it is only the negative side of holiness; it is only reaching the place where God can develop His ideal in us unhindered.


In many cases, as in the chestnut, before a single old leaf has faded, next year's buds may be seen, at the summit of branch and twig, formed into its very likeness: in others the leaf buds seem to bear its mark by breaking through the stem blood red.


It is when the sun goes out from our horizon to light up the dayspring in far away lands, that the glory of the day comes on: it is in the autumn, when the harvest is gathered and the fruit is stored for the use of man, that the glow of red and gold touches and transfigures bush and tree with a beauty that the summer days never knew.


It is true that it is a rule that sometimes has exceptions: there are those to whom a blessed life of fruitfulness to God comes in a simple way, with seemingly no hard process of dying involved, just as there are plants that reproduce themselves by bulb and tuber, sucker and shoot, without going through the stripping and scattering that we have been watching.


If we are apprehending Christ's death in its delivering power, our homes will not be slow to find it out. * * * * * * * * O Jesus the Crucied I will follow Thee in thy path. Inspire me for the next step, whether it leads down into the shadow of death or up into the light.


He can make every step of the path full of the triumph of gladness that glows in the golden leaves. Glory be to His Name! And the outcome, like the outcome of the autumn, is this: there is, a new power set free; a power of multiplying life around.


Anyhow the pigs I am going to tell you about were very different from most pigs, and they had some very funny adventures.


So they just said "Here sonny!" or "Hi, Bubby," whenever they wanted them to come in, or eat their dinner.


And then, all of a sudden, there was a rustling in the bushes, and the little pig, who was tied by his tail to the fence, thought it was the bear coming back.


On they went together. Curly and his brother who hadn't any name, except that sometimes people called him "Bub," or maybe "Son," or even "Hey, Johnnie!" though that wasn't his real name at all.


But the two brothers couldn't agree, so Curly went in the red store and his brother in the blue one.


"Oh! Oh! Oh!" howled piggie. "I'm caught! Oh let me go. Please let me go!" "Yes, let go of him at once, you naughty boy!" cried the doggie's mamma, as she made a grab for his tail.


"No, indeed, I will not!" exclaimed the fox. "Your rubber ball hit me right on the nose when it came down, and I caught it. And, just for that, I am going to carry you away with me and make a pork pie of you!"


And Curly and Floppy were shooting off their make believe guns, and making so much noise in the woods that they couldn't hear, and there was the fox about to carry off the poor little piggie girl to his den. Oh, wasn't it terrible?


"Yes  yes  perhaps I did," said poor Baby Pinky, trembling so that she nearly shook the curl out of her tail. "I tossed my ball up in the air, but I'm sure I didn't mean to hit you with it. Please forgive me."


You see, after the bear had tied Curly to the fence and made his tail all frizzy like, all the other pigs, including Pinky and Floppy wanted their tails to curl also, and their mamma had to do it for them, twisting them around the rolling pin.


I have the sweeping and dusting to do, and then I am going to make an apple pie." "Oh, goodie!" cried Curly. "Do you want us to help you, mamma?"


"My goodness me! sakes alive and a corn cob," exclaimed Mrs. Twistytail. "The children must have done this to help me.


And oh! how badly Curly felt when he saw his mamma's eggs going that way. It was almost as bad as if he had dropped the bag on the sidewalk and smashed them, only, of course, it was not his fault.


"Oh, there you are!" exclaimed Mrs. Twistytail. "Well, I want a dozen eggs, and be sure to get fresh ones, and don't smash them on the way home."


Still the skillery scalery alligator came on, and he cried in his rasping voice: "I want that pig!"


"Oh, help me! Help me!" cried Flop. "Indeed, I will!" shouted the elephant. And with that, in his strong trunk, he lifted Flop up on his broad back. Still the skillery scalery alligator came on, and he cried in his rasping voice: "I want that pig!"


"Eh? What's that?" exclaimed the elephant. "Bless my trunk strap! It's a little pig. Oh dear!"


"Well, you can't have him. Take that!" and then the elephant just reached around back with his trunk and took some corn meal out of the bag that Flop held and the elephant blew the meal in the alligator's eyes and nose and mouth and then   "A choo! Aker choo!


And, all this while Curly and Flop just stood there, in the school room looking about them and wondering what they had better do. For they had never been to school before; not even in the kindergarten class.


Then Flop turned a somersault and stood on one leg, and then the two piggie boys danced up and down together like leaves falling off a tree. "Oh! those little fellows are smarter than I thought they were," said the lady bug teacher. "I guess they can be in our first class after all."


Pretty soon, in a little while, oh, maybe in about an hour and a half, Curly and Flop came to a building all made of red brick, with a chimney sticking from the top for the smoke to come out of, and a lot of doors and windows in it.


But, of course, only one was needed to carry the chocolate. "Never mind," said Curly's mamma to him. "You may go next time."


But, first, let me ask you  have you been vaccinated?" "Vaccinated?" repeated Curly. "Is that like a lollypop?"


But it did not hurt him, as they were so nice and soft. "And here I am, too!" exclaimed Flop, and the other little piggie boy, who was up in a hammock, swinging with one of the Katy Dids, jumped down and ran to the back kitchen door.


Around and around on the board spun the top, looking like a pinwheel on the night before Fourth of July, and Curly's sore arm began to feel better all at once.


So that's how Curly, with his spinning top, got the best of the snippery snail, and a few days later the little piggy boy could go to school whenever he wanted, for his vaccination was all better.


"Neither one," said Curly. "I want a spinning top that I can make go around when I lie down in bed. And I want it to make music and jump around on a plate and slide on a string and all things like that." "All right," said Flop Ear. "I'll try to get it for you."


And pretty soon, in case the man who is taking up the dried leaves in the street, doesn't put the rag baby in his bag and take her off to gather chestnuts, I'll tell you about Flop Ear and the frozen turtle.


"Ha! Ha!" laughed a voice behind him, and turning quickly around Curly saw Jacko Kinkytail, a hand organ monkey, hanging by his tail from a tree branch. "Ha! Ha!" laughed the monkey again. "Don't you know what those brown things on the ground are?"


"Chestnuts," said Jacko the hand organ monkey. "They are chestnuts, and they fell off the trees and hit you. No one was throwing stones at you, though the prickly burrs inside of which the chestnuts are, seem as large as stones."


Well, as Curly was going through the woods, all of a sudden, under a tree, something fell and hit him on the nose. He jumped to one side and exclaimed: "Who is throwing stones at me?"


"Let's get up and look," suggested Curly who always liked to be doing something, even at night.


Of course, in a way, it was all right to do this, for the rat gentleman had told them to help themselves, but you just wait and see what happens.


But she didn't have to do that, for a few minutes later in came Curly and Flop, the two nice boy piggies, and they were just as glad as could be to go to the store for their mamma.


After it he ran, but it was too late, for by that time the piggie boys were safely at home.


asked Curly, as he helped his brother to jump over a stone, and lifted the pumpkin at the same time. "What can we do?" "Why not make a Jack o'lantern of the pumpkin and scare the wolf?" suggested Flop. "Some of our friends did that once."


She was so neat and clean, you see, and as she had to stop quite often, on account of there being so much dust, she couldn't go fast at all. But, as I said, Curly and Flop couldn't even catch up to her, which shows you that they had stayed in after school for quite some time.


So into the shock of corn crawled Curly and Flop pulling a lot of stalks behind them to close the hole, and they were only just in time, for, an instant later, up rushed the alligator man. Of course he could not see the piggy boys, and he was much surprised.


"I guess so," agreed Curly. "And when we do   " "Hark!" suddenly exclaimed Floppy. "Some one is coming!" Curly heard it, too, and he stopped talking. He looked around the corner of a stone and whispered: "It's the old alligator man himself.


"Oh! I can't tell you how thankful I am to you," said the mousie girl to the piggie boys. "Some day I will help you."


"Of course we will," agreed Flop. "Oh, how glad we are that you aren't a wolf," he added, and then he and Curly, with their noses which were made stretchy like a rubber ball, soon had the stone off the mousie girl's tail, and she was all right, except that her tail was sore.


"Oh, let's take a short cut through the corn field," suggested Curly. "Maybe then we can get ahead of the others."


So Jackie, and Curly and Flop hurried along together toward the school, when, all at once, they came to a nice, big, slanting cellar door, just right for sliding down, and on it was a sign which read: "NO ONE MUST SLIDE DOWN THIS CELLAR DOOR!"


"Say, aren't you coming to school?" called back Jackie Bow Wow, for he and Curly were some distance down the street by this time.


So she kindly did, but Flop was late for school. And  well, I suppose it couldn't be helped, even if he had to stay in.


But now let us see what happened to Curly and Flop, to say nothing of Peetie and Jackie Bow Wow.


And with that a whole swarm of stingery honey bees flew down from the sky toward Mrs. Twistytail's flowered bonnet that the wolf held in his paw. You see, the bees thought the flowers were real and that they could gather honey from them.


"Ha! I wonder who that can be?" thought Curly Tail. "Perhaps it may be the bad alligator trying to scare Cora Janet. No, that can't be," he went on, "for Cora Janet is down in Montclair, making funny music tunes on the piano."


"Oh, fine!" cried Curly. "Oh, joyousness!" squealed Flop, as he spun about on one leg and tickled Baby Pinky with the other.


"Well, see if you can get a cabbage or a turnip for me," spoke the old gentleman rabbit, "and for yourselves whatever you like. Here is the money."


Through the dark woods went the little piggie boy, and he had not gone very far before he heard some one crying, and a voice saying: "Oh, dear! I'm lost!


"Won't you be afraid?" asked Flop, for the woods were now quite dark. "Afraid!


"All right," said Curly, who was quite tired from having assisted his rabbit uncle to haul up the boat. "I'll stay here, Flop, and when you find the good thing that you smell, bring me some."


So Flop promised, and he kept sniffling away, and the lovely smell grew plainer and plainer as he moved toward the bungalow, until he exclaimed: "Ah, I know what it is! The pie lady!


Will you be afraid to stay here alone?" "Indeed we will not!" exclaimed Curly. "Not even if the bad fuzzy wolf comes out of his den after more apple pies?"


He waved his paws in the air, and, wrinkling up his black nose, he growled out: "Ha!


"That must never be!" exclaimed the little piggie boy. "Ha! I have it!" he cried. "We will throw the marshmallows at the bear, and make him so stuck up that he won't want ever to eat anything again except pepper hash!" "Good!"


So Flop jumped out from behind a bush, made a low bow, and said, most politely: "Can I help you, Cora Janet?" "Oh, yes, you can!"


So Curly Tail took off his bread crumbs clothes, and Flop Ear his apple pie suit, and Uncle Wiggily his fish scales, and they all took off their false faces, and Percival and the lady whose name was Gertrude, had a good time.


"Oh, what long ears the fish has!" cried Curly Tail, when the moon shone on the fish. "I never saw a fish with ears!" "I'm not a fish," said a voice. "Oh, please let me go. The hook is caught in my collar. Please let me go!"


"A fish," she answered. "My husband, Percival, is a great fisherman and he caught the biggest fish in all the lake, but it pulled him out of the boat.


And Flop Ear, or Flop, or Floppy, for short, looked too cute for anything  just exactly like an apple pie, and he even carried a bit of cheese to go with it, and a toasting fork.


So off they started from Uncle Wiggily's bungalow, and when they came to a place where there were two paths through the woods, Curly Tail said: "Now, Flop Bar, you go one way and I'll go the other, and we will see who first meets with an adventure."


On came the ferocious creature, ready to swallow the boat, Curly Tail and little afraid girl all at once.


All over him they flew, and he was so surprised that he thought it was snowing big white flakes.


"But she is lying down," explained Flop Ear, "so if you want to sell her some new kind of soap to make our faces clean or some baking powder that will puff a cake up like a balloon, I don't believe she wants any."


The piggie boys had now been back for some little time, and in a few days school would open again.


The little piggie boy didn't say anything, but he felt very bad. And the fox, holding him with one paw, took up a roasted potato in the other, and cracked it open with his teeth. And then


As he came running back to the blaze, out of the shadows stepped someone, and a voice said: "Ah ha! Good evening! I was wondering who had made this good fire for me."


"Exactly what I'm going to do," replied the fox, and he caught hold of Flop Ear. "We will wait until the fire is a little hotter," he said.


"Ha! No one will come to save you!" snarled the bad fox, and just then, what do you think? Out from the fire rolled some of the potatoes Flop Ear was roasting for his friends.


"Oh, wow!" cried the fuzzy creature. "Oh, double wow, and some ice cream cones! Oh, pepper casters! Oh, mustard! Oh, my mouth, how it burns! And my paws!"


Something good to eat, I should say," and he smelled the baked potato. "Oh Yum yum!" he cried, and he smacked his lips. "That will go most excellently with roast pork.


"I can get all those!" exclaimed Flop Ear, and he did. Then Uncle Butter took the roller skate apart at the place where it slid together to be made smaller or larger. Right apart he took it, and there were two wheels on one part and two on the other.


"Save me from the bad dog!" she cried. "Bow wow! Woof! Woof! Bur r rr!" barked the dog. "I'll get you!"


"Oh! I hope I'm not that kind, mamma," spoke Pinky. "Then I'll just run across the street for a minute," went on Mrs. Twistytail. "Everything is all right here. There is nothing on the stove to boil over, but be careful not to go near the fire."


"Nothing in the least," replied her mother, "but sometimes little girls, and boys, too, for that matter, are afraid to stay alone, even when their mamma wants to go get a drink of water."


That is she did not until she heard some one walking in the room behind her, and then the little piggie girl turned around and exclaimed: "Oh, mamma! How you frightened me."


cried that baboon, and no one could understand what he said, not even a phonograph, for you see his mouth and throat were nearly closed up by the puckery lemon.


"But I know the little lame boy and the other poor little boy will be much disappointed.


"What ho! Hello!" cried Santa Claus, when he saw the piggie boys. "What are you doing here?" "We are on our way home from buying Christmas things," said Flop Ear.


And he thought, in case he couldn't wear them, that it was all the better to have them big for Christmas, since Santa Claus could put so much more in them.


They will make a good bed for Baby Pinky's doll," and so he did fill one of the big stockings with leaves. Then he went on a little further, carrying the one empty stocking and the one filled with leaves, which was almost as large as Flop Ear himself.


"That's what I want to know," put in Pinky, as she dressed her doll in her best dress, all ready for the holiday that was soon to be there.


"Oh, I see my new doll carriage  and a new doll in it  and look at her little Christmas tree!" cried Baby Pinky! "Oh, how lovely everything is!"


"Merry Christmas!" cried Flop Ear. "Merry Christmas!" echoed Baby Pinky, and they all rushed downstairs. "Mercy me!" exclaimed Mrs. Twistytail, rubbing her eyes. "Christmas so soon?" "Yes, indeed!" shouted the children.


A recital of his accomplishments sounds like a round of the old counting game, "Doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief." He was, in fact, all the list but the "thief"  even the "beggarman."


In two years' time, however, he was again sent to England as agent to settle questions in relation to taxation, and represented not only Pennsylvania, but New Jersey, Georgia, and Massachusetts.


He returned home in 1762, expecting to settle down and devote the remainder of his life to scientific investigation and the pleasures of the pen. He brought with him many degrees and honors, and he thought that his public life was over.


"I took them out one day to a pond near the school house, where I pointed out almost all the divisions of water, and then on a hill, to show them the divisions of land." "But you could not find them all."


The dripping oars were all extended at the same height from the water, at the command of the coxswain. "Up oars!" continued he. "You will certainly run against them, Frank," repeated Mrs. Sedley. "Pray don't be careless." "There is nothing to fear, mother."


"I suppose they did not half learn them," replied Fred. "They did not understand them.


But at last they grew tired of the land. The beautiful Zephyr, resting so lightly and gracefully on the water, seemed to invite them to more congenial sports.


CHAPTER XVI THE GEOGRAPHY OF WOOD LAKE Captain Sedley reached the depot just in time to take the two o'clock train; and the club returned to Centre Island, where another hour was spent very pleasantly in listening to the music of the band, and in such amusements as the ingenuity of boys can devise. But at last they grew tired of the land.


Safe under the dust that that woman threw, and the women that lived before her, Time hid his secrets. And then I have seen the edges of stones in deserts that might or might not have been cities: they had fallen so long that you could hardly say.


So that to these, whatever others may write, the twentieth century will not be the age of strategy, but will only seem to have been those fourteen lost quiet summers whose fruits lie under the plaster.


At all these cities, whether disaster met them, and ruin came suddenly on to crowded streets; or whether they passed slowly out of fashion, and grew quieter year by year while the jackals drew nearer and nearer; at all these cities one can look with interest and not be saddened by the faintest sorrow  for anything that happened to such a different people so very long ago.


And in all that stricken assembly no voice spoke but the sound of iron tapping on broken things, which was dumb awhile when the wind dropped. The wind rose and it tapped again.


With such a dignity as clings to the ancient gateway so might a king be crowned; with such a sweep of dull red as the old ramparts show, so might he be robed; but a dead king with crowned skull.


It is not this that is romantic, not Mars, but poor, limping Peace.


Even if the rat got away, he would whip the dog for not catching it, yet the dog had done his best; for, of course, dogs must do what their masters tell them, and cannot know any better.


"Why his toes?" said the weasel. "_I_ can do much better than that, and if you will only show me the way into his room, I will bite the veins of his throat, and then he will soon bleed to death."


But would it not be a better plan, first to see if we cannot make little Tommy Smith a better boy?


He soon found that that was quite as interesting as really talking to them. In fact, it _was_ talking to them in another kind of way, for they kept telling him all about themselves, only without speaking. And the more Tommy Smith learnt about them, the more he liked them, until the animals became his very best friends.


THE LEAVE TAKING "_All 'Tommy Smith's Animals' take leave with joy_, _For they know Tommy Smith is a different boy_."


Even Puck, fairy though he was, was astonished at this. But the blackbird added: "Go to the toad, that blinks its eye under the big rock yonder. His age is greater than mine."


They kept armed men by the thousands ready, night and day, to rush out and put to death anybody and everybody who had a weapon in his hand.


"That, I could not be sure of, especially if as many false things are told about them, as are told about me; but when I was a tadpole in the pond, that old hag of an owl was still hooting away, in the treetops, scaring children, as in ages gone.


So the Normans had to lock themselves up in armor, until they looked like lobsters in their shells. When on their iron clad horses they resembled turtles, so that if a knight fell off, he had to be chopped open to be rid of his metal clothes.


And the handsome son of the King, George, the Prince of Wales, led the descendants of Welsh archers, now called the Fusileers.


He made the owl perch over the mantel piece, but told Puck to stand upon the dinner table and walk over the tablecloth.


Now Taffy was not very refined in his manners, and he thought it none of the fellow's business. He was very surly and made reply in a gruff voice.


This they pried up, but it required all their strength to lift and stand it on edge. Just below, they saw a flight of steps. They were slippery with wet and they looked very old, as if worn, ages ago, by many feet passing up and down them.


Meanwhile, his new acquaintance kept on persuading him. Finally Taffy yielded and the two went on together to Wales.


These lived at the bottom of the many ponds and pools in Wales. Many stories are told of the wonderful things they did with boats and cattle.


In fact, Co ed simply meant that they were from the woods and lived among the trees; for Co ed in Welsh means a forest.


But if they both should bring to me Their gold and gems and silk, I might—_perhaps_ I might—give them A very—little—milk!


Of what use is rain? Of what use is snow? Of what use is wind?


Oh, there is a little artist Who paints in the cold night hours Pictures for little children Of wondrous trees and flowers!


The moon is the lamp he paints by; His canvas the window pane; His brush is a frozen snowflake; Jack Frost the artist's name.


We shall then learn for ourselves many things we do not know about rivers. We will begin our journey at its source. Here it is a little rill, formed by water that trickles from a spring, or by the melting of snow.


Here we see it rushing rapidly down a steep slope. Its waters foam and dash between the great rocks that lie in the stream.


Over this it leaps, making a great foam and noise. When the water of a river falls over high rocks, it is called a waterfall or _cataract_. You may have seen the Falls of Niagara, the greatest waterfall in the world.


And that is why the hills which divide or part the waters of streams are called a _water parting_ or _water shed_. Let us now go further down the stream. Here we see it rushing rapidly down a steep slope.


"One morn I ran away, A madcap, noisy rill; And many a prank that day I played adown the hill! "And then 'mid meadowy banks, I flirted with the flowers, That stooped with glowing lips To woo me to their bowers.


Where have you seen a river like the one spoken of in the poem? Are rivers born?


What people live mainly on fish and the flesh of animals? Do any fruit trees grow in very cold countries? What kinds of food are best in hot countries? The people cannot eat fatty food, for that would heat the body.


* * * * * * * because house would away hard lived "It is all because I am so ugly," said the duckling. So he ran away. At night he came to an old house.


At night he came to an old house. The house looked as if it would fall down. It was so old.


At last it was spring. The birds sang. The ugly duckling was big now. One day he flew far away. [Illustration: "OH, SEE THE LOVELY SWAN!"] Soon he saw three white swans on the lake. He said, "I am going to see those birds. I am afraid they will kill me, for I am so ugly."


Night came. A man came by with a bag. He saw the gold leaves. He took them all and put them into his bag. The poor little tree cried, "I do not want gold leaves again. I will have glass leaves."


It said, "Oh, I am so pretty! No other tree has gold leaves."


Some men found a little girl in the street. She was dead. In her hand were the burned matches.


* * * * * * * grandma never before dying going been Then she saw a star fall. "Some one is dying," said little Gretchen.


In her hand were the burned matches. They said, "Poor little thing, she froze to death."


Loki put on the falcon suit and flew away. He looked like a big bird flying.


Then Loki said, "I will get Idun and the apples back, if I may have the falcon suit." * * * * * changed faster The gods said, "You may have it, if you will bring the apples back."


Then the giant put on his eagle suit and flew after Loki. Loki heard the eagle coming. Loki flew faster.


At last they said, "Who let the apples go?" Then Loki looked pale and the gods said, "Loki, you did it."


One was Thor and one was Loki. Loki was ugly and mean. The gods liked to walk over the hills and rocks.


* * * * * bumped gate putting stayed golden morning So the eagle bumped him on the stones again. Then Loki said, "I can't stand this. I will get the apples for you."


Brok took out the gold ring. He said, "Each night this ring will throw off a ring just like it. He gave the ring to Odin." Then Brok took out the golden pig. He said, "This pig can go anywhere, on the ground or in the air. It can go faster than any horse.


The dwarfs said, "Yes, we can." So the busy little dwarfs worked all night.


Loki came along. He was always playing tricks. He saw Sif lying asleep.


* * * * * ground thumb beads dwarfs crooked crown worked Loki went down, down into the ground to the home of the dwarfs. It was very dark down there.


"How thirsty she is!" said the Frost Giants. Loki said, "Yes, she is very thirsty. She was so glad to come. She did not drink anything for eight days."


"No, but we can get it if Freyja will be Thrym's wife." Then they went to Freyja's house. They said, "Put on your very best clothes and come with us. You must be Thrym's wife." Freyja said, "Do you think I will be the Frost Giant's wife? I won't be his wife."


Loki said, "I will dress up too, and be your servant." They got into Thor's goat wagon and went to the Giants' home.


There on the grass was a fine large sheep. This sheep had a fleece of gold and his horns were gold, too. [Illustration: THE KING AND HIS TWO CHILDREN.] The children wanted to pat the sheep, but they could not catch him. When they went near, he ran away on the clouds.


When they said good bye, he told them how to get to the land where they would find the golden fleece.


The rocks began to come together. "Row hard, my men," said Jason. Just as they got past, the rocks hit, but Jason and his men were all right.


They had to be tied with strong iron chains. * * * * * daughter Medea carriage snakes through pulled When the dragon's teeth were planted, iron men grew up. They always killed the one who had planted them.


He held their heads down on the ground until the plow was ready. * * * * * handle slowly noon wheat lie just Jason took the chains in one hand.


Jason's father went to sleep and Medea put some of the juice into his mouth. His white hair turned black and teeth grew in his mouth. When he woke up, he looked and felt like a young man.


The only tapestry in the hut was in the shape of long festoons of soot, that hung from the roof or rafters. These, when the wind blew, or the fire was lively, would swing or dance or whirl, and often fall on the heads, or into the food, while the folks were eating.


In addition to these horrid charges against her, it was rumored that she laid a spell, or charm, on the cattle of people whom she did not like, in order to take revenge on them.


When the children cried, or made wry faces at the black stuff, their daddy only laughed, and said it was healthy, or was for good luck. But by and by, the carpenters and masons made much improvement, especially when, instead of flint hatchets, they had iron axes and tools.


Then the house was square or oblong. In other words, the Cymric folks squared the circle.


"Dry your tears and take comfort," said the tall lady in the green peaked hat. "Here is money enough to pay your rent and buy another cow." With that, she sat down at the round table near the peat fire. Opening her bag, the shining gold coins slid out and formed a little heap on the table.


The young widow, feeling sure that she had the old fairy in a trap, thought she would have some fun first.


So, many householders used to set old scythe blades across the new smoke holes, to keep out the thieves, or to slice them up, if they persisted.


But all this I could pardon, in regard, as you say, to your sedentary condition. But what is your practice after dinner?


In our infancy of diplomatic service the old gentleman of seventy was banker, merchant, judge of admiralty, consul, director of the navy, ambassador to France, and negotiator with England for the exchange of prisoners and for peace.


His most important work was yet to come. In September, 1776, he was appointed, by vote of Congress, the agent to represent in France the united Colonies, which had just declared their independence of Great Britain.


In the paper that he established when he was but twenty three  the _Pennsylvania Gazette_  he handled the questions of the day in masterly fashion.


Nevertheless, these honors were not unwelcome, for he said of himself: "I shall never _Ask_, never _Refuse_, nor ever _Resign_ an office."


"Answer  'Suppose a military force be sent into America, they will find nobody in arms; what are they then to do? They cannot force a man to take stamps who chooses to do without them.


He was the man who found the wagons necessary for Braddock's expedition, he was even chosen colonel of a militia regiment.


Metropolitan Museum of Art] Franklin's position had great weight in bringing about the repeal of the Stamp Act; and thereafter he strove with all his might to prevent the breaking up of the empire.


Yet he accepted the most important post of his life when in September, 1776, he was elected commissioner to France.


A reader writes me as follows: Let me call attention to a discrepancy in the Julius Cæsar number of The Mentor. On cover page 2 the statement is made that Cæsar's eyes were dark gray. On page 8 it is said that they were black.


These two eminent scholars present the conclusions that they have individually drawn from historical study. When two authorities differ it is the duty of The Mentor, as an educational publication, to present the two statements for the reader's comparison.


Morones rose. Despite his bulk he stepped nimbly. He had the nimbleness of a Saturnian bear, which is great, as some of the earlier explorers learned to their dismay.


Ancient astronomers had long suspected that Mercury always presented the same side to the sun, though they were ignorant that the little planet had water and air.


With that he made a lunge at the officer, quite beside himself with rage. Olear could have burnt him down, but he was far too experienced for such an amateurish trick. Instead he ducked to evade Morones' blow. But the big man was as agile as a panther.


They hatch from eggs, pass one life phase as frog like creatures in their rivers, and in the adult stage turn more human in appearance. But their skin remains green and fish belly white.


"Like any dumb strapper, you've got your mind made up, ain't you? Well, go ahead. Get something on me. Here I was almost set to give you a lead that might get you somewhere. And you come shooting off  trying to make out I stole the 'lucene and killed those two fellows, eh? Go ahead! Get something on me! But not on Company grounds. You're leaving now!"


Morones controlled his anger with an effort.


"Drove him back to the Green Star," Nargyll said promptly. "And the oxygen tanks. Did you empty them?" "I let them hiss." Nargyll's grin was sharkish. "News to you, eh, Morones? Your officer's corpse has probably dropped into the sun by this time. Tell me, why did you drive him off?"


There was a tearing of tough cords and tissue, and the two halves fell into the fire.


In a gust of impatience, the Plutonian stepped down, seized the aged chief's skinny body in his great black hands, and snapped him in two. There was a tearing of tough cords and tissue, and the two halves fell into the fire.


Long before our ancestors came out of their caves to build houses, the Plutonians had mastered interplanetary travel  only to forget the secret until human ingenuity should reveal it once more.


Back on his feet, Morones began bellowing at the Mercurians. Utterly demoralized, they fled pell mell. Morones came back. He said: "Nothing to tie him up with."


In your hands ye have the power to bring the proud Lords of the Green Star to their knees. They would fill this chamber many times with their most priceless treasures for the sap ye give them so freely. Withhold the sap, and your Thinking Ones may go to the Green Star itself to rule over its Lords. They are desperate.


Figures were sitting on the floor around this block  hundreds of Mercurians. The leaping flames made their white and green faces and bodies look frog like and less human than usual.


Morones clawed and tore at the brawny arm. He made a ludicrous picture. Soon the simple natives made a sniffling sound of mirth, and the Plutonian, satisfied at last, set him down again.


"Yes. Well, you owe some months of life already. Your presence here has been more or less embarrassing, but I had to let you live or I'd have had the whole I. F. P. here to investigate. Now that you've failed in keeping them from getting interested you may do me one more service." The black giant grinned.


"That's all right," Olear replied, studiously keeping the knife point at exactly the right place, "I'll ride him in. Get going, you, and be tactful when you go through the door, or this sticker of mine might slip!"


What was once classed as superstition was therefore a true racial memory.


In his last extremity he was still angry. "You devil!" Morones shouted. "You may murder me, but they'll get you! They'll get you!"


And yet can an individual be blamed for the faults of a society, can personal responsibility be extended to the members of an unknown multitude?


Most probably it sounds foreign and unfamiliar to you, devoid of the qualities of affection and personality which give character to a name.


Yet while history is vivid and encyclopedic, in itself a living organism, it can speak only through the mouths of men, who often misrepresent it for their own partisan and prejudiced plans.


And as you read them, the name Jehu slowly forms into an image, into a personality, and from the empty word Jehu comes the great well of affection springing from a personal intimacy.


Indeed, ignorance in this case only adds to the shame of the guilty, this being a crime not of misdeeds but of negligence, twisted together with the vices of humanity into a thick and sturdy cord, a rope that cannot be pulled apart and individually examined, yet must be taken as a whole.


I had traveled so far, and without any sighting of a person. It was a lonely and desolate feeling which prevailed, despite the abundances of life.


Novelties soon grow worthless with no one to share them with, ideas become meaningless if not communicated timely, emotions grow boisterous and uncontrollable with no end to receive them.


A short, soft grass clothed the land that stretched on in their midst, joined in its solitude by a hearty looking moss that stretched itself out on the trunks of the trees and on the rocks and boulders that lay scattered here and there among the open spaces.


As I walked, or rather, trotted along, it did just that, and in the growing warmth of the day the sweet fragrances of the many various grasses rose to the surface, delighting my odor perceiving sensors with their earthy simplicity.


What I mean is that I got a sense of deja vu, but instead of the past converging with the present into one thought, the present seemed to converge with the future, and the result was a mysterious foreboding of something, though I couldn't tell what.


Wagner led us into it and no sooner was the door, or wall, latched again than the Zards, having broken down the outside door by brute strength, flooded into the room.


What a good kinsman redeemer, I thought, for my coming may have ended the wars, or put its completion in motion, yet not in the favor of my hosts.


Now that they were closer, I could easily understand their conversation: "Blast it, they aren't here," said one, "Probably deserted the place after Garlop saw them, he should have kept watch." "Why?


"Is that so?" I rhetorically asked.


I need not remind you, then, the need to find them before they are too far away, it is imperative to the cause that the ancient is not brought to the hidden fortress of our adversaries."


The Zards then set to work with great assiduity searching for any clues of the Canitaur's whereabouts, examining everything meticulously, yet quickly.


Reform and revolution are their watchwords, for they tinker with the very foundations of society and life in an attempt to cultivate it.


Having read the paper, the taller Zard, the King, said to the others, "Well done, lads. We have here a map to the Canitaur's hidden fortress. Let us go to Nunami, gather some troops, and surprise them. Today may prove victorious, so let us hurry."


The destruction was total: no one was exempt, as almost everything, and everyone, was destroyed.


There are certain events in our lives that change the whole course of our existence, and falling forward into the hole was one for me.


It was on a slightly elevated hill, and looked as if it had not erupted for many thousands of years.


I did, though just barely, for it was extremely small, being one of those inconsistent volcanic islands.


Onan laughed quietly and said, "History is not an unstoppable machine, allied with fate to control the destiny of all things past and future, nor does it nullify the power of man's freewill, yet the force that acts upon the minds of men to form them is history itself.


We looked at each other for a moment, he smiling pleasantly and me expressionless, for though I felt that I should be surprised, or at least bewildered, at the sight of a gnome in an underground cavern, I was not, it was as if I had almost been expecting it to happen, as if in the back of my mind I had already been there and done that.


He then beckoned for me to follow him, and turned and walked to the center of the platform, where he unexpectedly laid down on his back, facing the muraled dome. I did the same, somewhat hesitantly, though I found it to be quite comfortable once I was down.


I laid myself down tiredly on the sofa to rest while Wagner took the stage and began to speak.


Myself, Taurus and Bernibus went to the shores of Lake Umquam Renatusum, as is our custom, to watch for the coming of the promised one, and this time we were not disappointed, for he came to us, even as the prophecy says, as we sat hidden in the living tower.


As the time will never be more ready than at the present, in the present we must act." "What is your plan, then?" I asked.


You will understand that statement later on, but for now let me say that I wished to know the essence, the person, the consciousness of Bernibus, whereas I wish to impart to you my story, though ere its end you may come also to know me. I have no ambitions of material immortality.


"Your ideologies may cause conflict, yet it seems that your behemoth states facilitate it into war.


Our meeting must end here, though, my dear Jehu, for we each have things to attend to in preparation for the attack on Nunami. I will see you soon, until then, farewell."


"But wouldn't it catch the forest on fire and burn down your whole empire in the process?" I asked, alarmed at his apparent lack of vigilance.


You may be thinking that I am relating this whole happening in order to justify my actions and decisions. But that is not the case, for I understand that you have no power over me, I have long been dead in your present and your sentiments mean naught to me.


This addition of electrons gives the atoms such a powerful negative charge that the poles of the atom, which regulate its rotations in much the same way that the earth's axis, or poles, regulate its rotations, are thrown from their natural equilibrium, causing the poles to reverse.


"I am his brother in law, a relationship that our culture places great importance on, especially as he has no blood brothers. I become, in effect, his partner, though he doesn't accept me emotionally as one, only in etiquette."


It was correct, as usual. There was a quaint fireplace on the far wall of the room with a small, unadorned and unpretentious mantle, decorated like the rest of the fortress in a practical and experienced way, finding just the right flavor between the ornate, the practical, and the quaint, and avoiding all the while the clutter brought by superfluous material possessions.


Bernibus had put on his as I had put on mine, and as I looked away from the mirror that was opposite the door, I saw him dressed the same as myself, yet because the suit so blended with his fur, it was hard to tell which ended where.


"And what is food except a servant to the body?" I said, "Let us eat." "Very well," he replied.


When we reached the entrance hall, where the raiding party was to meet, we found that there was already assembled a majority of the force, including Wagner. The party was only twenty strong, as the atomic anionizers were to do the main work and the planned raid required stealth and secrecy, not force or might.


We were able to jump unto the wall silently from our concealed roost on the treeway when the nearest patrol had passed by.


We were moving quickly, however, and it soon was out of sight, and I again turned towards our destination with apprehensions of failure. They seemed to place great faith in my presence, as the emissary of Onan, and while I was, I was also Jehu, and I wasn't confident with my own abilities.


But it was upon those the situation mostly rested, it being the resolve of the gods after the Homeric period to take a more removed role in the lives of men. I wonder how many from my own times were divine agents, for better or worse.


The only other part of the suit that stood out at all was the long, metallic buckle that secured the belt, it having a bowie knife hidden within it in an unnoticeable and inconspicuous manner.


In fact, as it was made of a plasma that allowed everything through except lone particles, it was so uninhibiting that a moment after I had put mine on I had completely forgotten about it. The only other part of the suit that stood out at all was the long, metallic buckle that secured the belt, it having a bowie knife hidden within it in an unnoticeable and inconspicuous manner.


As soon as the sound had died away and he was no more to be heard, I ran down to the door and tried to open it, but to no avail, for it was locked. There was no way to escape: I was a prisoner of the Zards.


"So you see, it is true that Onan sent you to both the past and the future of your original time. The Pastites would say that you were sent forward in time, because you existed in our past, while the Futurists would say that you were sent backwards in time because you existed in our future.


He laughed a slight, sarcastic laugh, "Tell me, Jehu, to whom did he send you, your ancestors or your offspring?"


It was a circular city, made mostly of the same materials as the wall and temple, which were a plain, silvery stone; a dark rock with inherent patterns; a mixture of cobblestone and a colorful compositor rock; and a vast array of metals, everything from brass to silver to platinum.


At last we came to the top.


He saw me look at it and told me, "This is the Hall of Time, and that is the altar to Temis, the God of Time. It is a very sacred place, to both us and the Canitaurs, for it was built by Temis himself, before the race of man inhabited the earth.


It was the first time that I had gotten a bird's eye view of Daem, and I was amazed at its beauty.


It was of a towering clipper ship with sails that stretched across their masts like skin over the bones of a pleasantly plump fellow, the wind billowing them about at a leisurely rate.


I was again taken aback when he said this, for though I know humans to be stubborn and foolish, in general, I would think that they would at least mind the warning when the conditions of its completion came to pass.


There was a group of Zards by the government center, which was close to my involuntary quarters, and they were leaning over an opening in the aqueduct that ran down into the lake in the southern section of the city, branching off from there into all the various sectors.


In a few moments they finished their task and began to walk further inland, and I followed their progress with interest until they finally disappeared behind some of the small plateaus that were scattered here and there among the wastelands.


The referee let out a loud yell and in a flash, the two teams ran at each other headlong, until converging somewhere in the center of the field. As they met they dived upon one another and pushed and shoved until the left team had isolated one of the right's players, who was the only one on his team wearing an orange jersey.


There is no morality where one sees another starving and suffering and does not help, when one sees a whole race of people living on a land where nothing but sorrows dwell, but will not let them share the wealth that was given one by no doing of oneself.


Except that this time the orange shirted one never got up. The other team cheered again and so did the other half of the crowd. The referee went to a pole on the sidelines and put up the number '1' on it while a few bystanders picked the Zard up and carried him off the field.


As I looked closer I saw that there were about six of the strange, stooped humanoids, and they were gathering the fruits of some of the shrubs for consumption.


It seems to me that the only ones who really are martially minded are the leaders and politicians, everyone else seems to mind their own business, and sometimes I wonder if there would even be any wars if there weren't any governments with the power to wage one.


As he finished, I could say nothing, for his revelation was sobering to me, bringing me suddenly back to the realization that our doom was impending, that every decision I made had the potential to either bring us to safety, or to supply the necessary force to hurl us viscously off the cliff of mortality.


That is why things like tree fossils are found in coal mines, where they shouldn't be, and why in general, the evidence found in the ground doesn't fit a consistent pattern."


We all rose and Bernibus, my only friend on the island, came up to me and warmly embraced me, while Wagner and the King conversed formally a few yards away. When they were not looking and our backs were turned to them, Bernibus slipped me a piece of paper that was rolled up into a tight scroll.


"Munams," he answered, "Is what we call them, though people of your time had a different name for them, Neanderthal, if I am correct."


He was silent as well and allowed me a few moments of meditation to turn his speech in my mind. As is my tendency, I looked abstractly out the window as I thought, fixing my subconscious focus on the road that ran from the northern gate down through the city, the road which formed half of the plaza beneath the temple.


A moment or two passed like a solemn parade of mourning, then, suddenly, or at least quite unexpected by myself, a party of Canitaurs came walking down the northern road, unharassed and unescorted through the heart of the city.


For a taboo is not formed by any one person, instead it is slowly built up upon the experiences of many, experiences which show that when one thing is done, suffering is what follows, and when another thing is done, happiness is what follows.


returned I, "Is that how you would describe a touch of humanity?" "What do you mean?" he questioned, apparently interested in what I said.


He said that very importantly, with an air of fright in his voice, as one who knows his end is near, for both him and his loved ones.


The captain was moved. Still speechless, he seized the minister's hands and wrung them. And from that hour to the day of his death  which was not for many years afterwards  the Huguenots had no truer friend than André Bonivon.


Well, I will explain. You are in the house of Roland Bertin, and the body lying over yonder is that of my wife, whom your crew barbarously murdered yesterday when they sacked this village. They took me with them, and it was your intention to have me tortured and then drowned as soon as you got to sea. Do you know me now?"


"Do not give her these things till the marriage eve," she added, "and directly you have given them come and see me  always observing the greatest secrecy." She then kissed him, and he went away brimming over with passion for her, and longing feverishly for the hour to arrive when he could be with her again.


Convinced that he was in the presence of the Devil, who doubtless highly approved of the thousand and one atrocities he had perpetrated on the helpless Huguenots, he threw himself on his knees and implored the forgiveness of Heaven.


A thunderstorm came on; a general panic ensued; and Bonivon soon found himself struggling in a whirlpool.


When this was the case their piety sometimes prevailed to such an extent that not even metamorphosis into wolfish form could render it ineffective; and there are instances where werwolves of this type have not only refrained from taking human life, but have actually gone out of their way to protect it.


Be civil and friendly to her whenever you meet; then give her, as a wedding present, this belt and box of bonbons." So saying, she handed him a beautiful belt composed of the skin of some wild animal and fastened with a gold buckle, and a box of delicious pink and white sugarplums.


He hated Beatrice now as much as he had loved her before; and he thirsted only for revenge. Some distance from the village and in the heart of the forest lived an old woman known as Mère Maxim, who was said to be a witch, and, therefore, shunned by every one.


All sorts of unsavoury stories were told of her, and she was held responsible for several outbreaks of epidemics  hitherto unknown in the neighbourhood  many accidents, and more than one death.


Hence one could fill a dozen volumes with the stories, many of them well authenticated, of French werwolves. As far back as the sixth century we hear of them infesting the woods and valleys of Brittany and Burgundy, the Landes, and the mountainous regions of the Côte d'Or and the Cevennes.


Olga has such a pretty white flower in her buttonhole, and Ivan a red stain on his forehead. They are deaf  they won't reply when I speak to them. See if you can make them hear." But the villager shook his head. "They'll never hear again in this world, mad soul," he muttered. "You've murdered them."


Needless to say, these flowers are very rare, but I have heard of their having been found, comparatively recently, both in the Transylvanian Alps and the Balkans. A story _à propos_ of one of these discoveries was told me last summer.


"Then you  you are a robber!" stammered the lady, ready to faint with terror. "Wrong again!" the young man said; "I admire your jewels, it is true, but I am no thief." "Then, in mercy's name, what are you?" demanded the lady.


Much to his surprise and delight Madame Mildau made no scene, but graciously submitted after a few mild protestations.


Now tell me, madame  and mind, be candid with me  why don't you love your husband?" "How do you know I don't?" Madame Mildau faltered. "Tut, tut!" the young man said. "Anyone could see that with half an eye. Besides, consider your conduct to night! Answer my questions."


An hour later a villager on his way home, hearing extraordinary sounds of mirth, went to the side of the pit and peeped over. "Vera Kloska!" he screamed; "Heaven have mercy on us, what have you there?" "He! he! he!" came the answer. "He! he! he! My children! Don't they look funny?


"Yes, indeed, what audacity!" the stranger replied, affecting to be shocked. "What pride! What a love of display!" and he rolled his big eyes at her and bared his teeth.


At last she heard the clatter of horses' hoofs and the rumble of wheels, and in a few minutes she was once again free.


She fixed the flower in her dress, and imitating to the best of her knowledge the carriage of royalty, strutted up and down, saying "Am I not grand? Don't I look nice? Ivan  salute me!"


It was a very dark night, cold and windy, and she was only too thankful to nestle close into the soft cushions at her back, and bury her face in the warm fur of her costly wrap.


Both have the same peculiar vividness of colour, the same thick, sticky sap, and the same sickly, faint odour.


As to yourself, madame, why this fear?


Ivan gasped; "I'm getting exhausted.


And tinged with quiet olive The hedges fine and bare, Whose thorny masses down the road An alien softness wear.


_THE LITTLE SISTER_ Along the street a tiny pair Of childish figures lately went; The boy's face wore a fearless air, The little sister's sweet content.


Now because the glorious stories of Wales, Scotland and Ireland have been nearly lost in that of mighty England, men have at times, almost forgotten about the leek, the thistle, and the shamrock, which stand for the other three divisions of the British Isles.


When he comes to Denas, a bell will ring to invite him into the cave. The moment his foot is over the place, the stone of entrance will open of its own accord. Anyone else will be considered an intruder and it will not be possible for him to carry away the treasure.


"This must be the one looked for," said the royal messenger to himself. So he went up to the boy, who had been thus twitted and spoke to him thus: "Don't mind what he says." Then he prophesied great things, if he would go along with him. The boy was only too glad to go, and the next day the lad was brought before King Vortigern.


After this, whenever a castle was to be built no more human victims were doomed to death.


Now there was once a pretty nymph, who lived in the Red Lake, to which a young and handsome farmer used to come to catch fish.


So it came to pass that even when the Cymric folk gave up wearing the skins of animals, and put on pretty clothes woven on a loom, and ate out of dishes, instead of clam shells, there were still some fairies that kept to the notions and fashions of the cave days. To one of these, came trouble because of this failing.


They were married and lived very happily together. Years passed and the man was still a good husband and lover. He kept up the habit which he had learned from a sailor friend.


Once, twice, the cradle was filled. It rocked with new treasures that had life, and were more dear than farm, or home, or wealth in barns or cattle, cheese and butter. A boy and a girl were theirs. Then the mother's care was unremitting, day and night.


But one night, on returning home, he saw in a turf bog, a group of fairies sitting on a log. At once, he thought, they might be talking about their lost sister.


At once, he thought, they might be talking about their lost sister. So he crept up quite near them, and soon found that he had guessed right.


The lively and frolicsome beast scampered here and there, grazing as she stopped, as if she were determined to put off her capture as long as possible. So, calling to his wife, the two of them together, tried their skill to catch the filly.


On his part, the father did not think it "an ideal arrangement," as some modern married folks do, to be thus separated, wife and husband, one from the other; but by her coming as near as could be allowed, she showed her undying love.


The Arabs are lazy, and fatalistic besides; they cannot understand why men should attempt to fight the _Djesh Allah_ ("God's Army"), as they call the locusts.


When autonomy was granted the Lebanon, French influence became predominant among the Maronites and other Christians of the province. French is spoken by almost all of them, and love for France is a deep rooted sentiment of the people.


With a population of about six hundred thousand this province exported annually two million dollars' worth of raw silk, silkworm raising being a specialty of the Lebanon.


Even then I could not realize that the worst had happened. Of course, rumors of the Turkish occupation of the Lebanon had reached us a few weeks before, but we had not believed it, as we knew that Germany and Austria were among those who guaranteed the autonomy of the Lebanon.


It was true, however; the scrap of paper that guaranteed the freedom of the Lebanon had proved of no more value to the Lebanese than had that other scrap of paper to Belgium.


The population of the Lebanon consists of a Christian sect called Maronites and the Druses, the latter a people with a secret religion the esoteric teachings of which are known only to the initiated, and never divulged to outsiders. Both these peoples are sturdy, handsome folk.


Before long he persuaded the Druse chieftains to address a petition to England asking for British protection.


Not suspecting that they were being put to the test, they had eaten meat on a Friday, and this made the patriarch think that they were not true Catholics, but were there as spies. Leaving Beirut in haste, Wood and his friend sought shelter with the Druses, who received them with open arms. For two years Wood lived among the Druses, in the village of Obey.


When any young fellow, moping out his life alone and anxious for a wife, went a courting in the next tribe, or in their vale, or on their hill top, he was usually driven off with stones. Then there was a quarrel between the two tribes.


Her hair was pulled down in disorder, and all the dogs were allowed to bark at her. The girls made fun of the poor thing, while they all rubbed one forefinger over the other, pointed at her and cried, "Fie, for shame!" while the boys called her hard names.


The solemn silence of night soon brooded over the scene. The men of the valley stayed only long enough to bury their own dead.


Then they marched home and their houses were filled with mourning. Yet they admired the noble sacrifice of their daughters and were proud of them. Afterwards they raised stone monuments on the field of slaughter. To day, this water is called the Lake of the Maidens, and the great stones seen near the beach are the memorials marking the place of the slain in battle.


Never until we conquer the uncouth Connivings of our shamed indifference (We call it Christian faith!) are we to scan The racked and shrieking hideousness of Truth To find, in hate's polluted self defence Throbbing, the pulse, the divine heart of man.


Then we heard them, every word.


The poet is a slave, And there be kings do sorrowfully crave The joyance that a scullion may command.


Look in my eyes, and tell me the lesson You read there; measure my nose, and tell me Where I am wanting! A man's nose, Dominie, Is often the cast of his inward spirit; So mark mine well. But why do you smile so?


something of that kind? And you smile for that? You're a good man, Dominie, The one good man in the world who knows me,    My one good friend in a world that mocks me, Here in this hard stone cage.


Then I trembled,    A poor scared thing,    and their prying faces Told me the ghastly truth: they were laughing At me and my fate.


One evening I knew that my time had come. I shuddered A little, but rather for doubt than terror, And followed him,    led by the nameless devil I worshipped and called my brother.


I forgave her First of all; and I praised kind Heaven That I was a brave, clean man to do it; And then I tried to forget.


Once there were three in the world who could tell it; Now there are two. There'll be two to morrow,    You, my friend, and    But there's the story:    When I was a boy the world was heaven.


The Night Before Look you, Dominie; look you, and listen!


And I    I am going Into the light?


Then she pressed the trigger of the syphon, and the familiar hiss of the soda water brought the Professor, as he thought, back to his senses. But no! There could be no doubt about it.


Perhaps I have been worrying a little too much about this confounded fourth dimension problem,  and yet the thing is exceedingly fascinating. If the hand of Science could only reach across the frontier line!


If advanced people like ourselves believed in any such nonsense, I should be inclined to say that you had seen a ghost; but I suppose it's only that silly fourth dimension puzzle that's worrying you.


"Ah yes," she replied softly, as she slipped out of his arms, "but it is one thing to claim and another to get. Yes, I have spoken with him. I have promised all, and given nothing.


Her touch was as light as the falling of the rose leaves in the gardens of Sais, yet he trembled under it, and his face, which had been as pale as her own before, flushed darkly red as she looked into his eyes.


That night, when the moon was sinking low down in the west towards the dark hills of the Libyan Desert, and the Isis Star was glowing palely like an expiring lamp hung high above the brightening eastern earth line, he saw her muffled form gliding ghost like towards him as he stood waiting for her on the terrace.


Held by the triple spell of guilt and fear and wonder, they listened to these terrible words in silence, white horror sitting on their blanching cheeks and brows.


What hast thou to fear, even if my vision came true? And thou, too, Menkau Ra the Mighty, hast thou slain thy thousands, and yet fearest to look upon the face of one dead man?


As she ceased she raised her arms above her head, a golden cup full crowned between her glittering hands.


I suppose this is one of them. And yet if ever there was a dream that seemed like reality that one did.


But why shouldst thou turn pale and tremble, thou the holiest man in the land?


Still, I don't think I ought to speak as disrespectfully as that of a young lady who has been dead for the last fifty centuries or so and has come back. Yes, that is it. It _is_ duration."


"Stolen, my dear, I am sorry to say," replied the Professor gravely. "Did you hear any noises in the house last night, or were you sleeping too soundly?" "I seem to have an idea that I did," she said, "but only a dim one; I thought I only dreamt it.


He went on thinking and wondering until he began to half believe that he was dreaming again, so he got up and switched on the electric light.


"They will wake her if this goes on much longer," said the Professor to himself again. "I had better stop this little comedy before it becomes a tragedy. Poor Niti would go half mad if she found these two scoundrels by her bedside  and yet if I do anything out of the way they will yell. Ah, I think I have it!"


These heathen ravishers have not been content with stealing the body of our Queen from its sacred resting place and bringing it here, whither we have traced it with so much labour.


What if she had not locked her door securely, or if they had some means of opening it? She was the living image of the dead Nitocris. He did not dare to think of what might happen to her. Would these new found, strangely given powers of his suffice to protect her?


He walked softly out of the room, and when he got into the passage he whispered in the tongue that had become so strangely familiar to him: "Pent Ah, Neb Anat, come hither instantly! Who are you that you should disturb the slumbers of your Lady the Queen!"


Do you not see her? It is she  the Queen  alive again, as the ancient prophecy said she should be. What magic have these heathens used?"


In front of it stood a man and a woman.


He took a piece of string out of his pocket, tied the two ends, and then with the greatest ease tied another knot in the string without undoing the first.


Wherefore, past, present, future, length, breadth, thickness, here and there are all the same thing to him. It's a great pity there isn't a fourth dimensional language as well, so that one could state these things a little more precisely. But that, of course, is out of the question.


Only infinity of space and duration are possible, and yet we can't grasp them; still, they are the only possible states in which we can exist. And now, as I have had a glimpse of the past, I wonder what this place would be like in ten thousand years?


Curiously enough, his mind seemed to be running on this subject of all things that morning.


That instant the motor vanished, and he found himself standing in a little glade surrounded by huge forest trees with not so much as a foot track in sight.


Then the scientific Press would take it up, and a very merry battle of wits would begin.


No one took the slightest notice of him. And then a chill of awful loneliness struck him.


But perhaps," he went on with his reasoning, "they can't see me at all. My condition is N to the fourth now.


And still untouched, as at some safer games, Played with the burning coals of love, and beauty's flames? Was't I could dive, and sound each passion's secret depth at will? And from those huge o'erwhelmings rise, by help of reason still?


Farewell! Sweet groves, to you!


And now, oh!


An opiate vapor, dewy, dim, Exhales from out her golden rim, And, softly dripping, drop by drop, Upon the quiet mountain top, Steals drowsily and musically Into the universal valley.


Although it was very fond of cows and sheep, yet the wool and hair of these animals stuck in its big teeth, it often felt very miserable and its usually bad temper grew worse.


Gadern went all over the country, summoning the farmers to bring their ox teams and log chains. Then he set the blacksmiths to work, forging new and especially heavy ones, made of the best native iron, from the mines, for which Wales is still famous.


If the bones of the Afang still lie at the bottom, they must have sunk down very deep, for the monster had no more power to get out, or to break the river banks.


Sometimes the floods rose so high as to wash away the houses and float the cradles. Even those with little babies in them were often seen on the raging waters, and sent dancing on the waves down the river, to the sea.


Someone may ask, why did not some brave man shoot the Afang, with a poisoned arrow, or drive a spear into him under the arms, where the flesh was tender, or cut off his head with a sharp sword?


It was bad enough that people should be eaten up, but to have all their crops ruined and animals drowned, so that they had to go hungry all winter, with only a little fried fish, and no turnips, was too much for human patience.


Often it happened that both puppies and kittens were drowned. So, whether for men or mothers, pussies or puppies, the Cymric men thought the time had come to stop this monster's mischief.


When he was ready to go to bed, he said to the ladies: "It is my custom to keep a light burning in my room, all night, but I will not ask for candles, for I have enough to last me until sunrise." So saying, he bade them good night.


After that, the patient was sure that he felt better. There was always great rivalry between these conjurers and those who made money from the Pilgrims at Holy Wells and visitors to the relic shrines, but this fellow, named Hugh, and the monks, kept on mutually good terms.


In spite of the other lady's many excuses, he was admitted to the sick lady's room. After polite greetings and mutual compliments, Hugh offered his hand to say "good by." The sick lady smiled at once and put out her hand, but it was her left one.


Everyone at the table looked at the boy, and all recognized the lad at once as the child of Powell and Rhiannon.


"Take me to thy bosom, monk Wyland," she shrieked, laughing hideously and showing what looked like green snags in her mouth.


He had not long to wait, for soon, with a crown on her head, a lady, royally arrayed, passed by out of the silvery moonlight into the dark cave. It was none other than the Maiden of the Green Forest.


So, caught in his own dark, sordid plot, the monk, who played conjurer, had become the victim of his own craft.


They say that Wyland's Cross still recalls the monk, while fishermen on the Welsh border, can, on nights with smooth water, see towers and chimneys far below, sunk deep beneath the waves.


A prince named Benlli, of the Powys region, found this out to his grief, for he had always supposed that wives could be had simply for the asking.


Seeing this, before he fell asleep, the boy resolved that on the morrow, he would go up to the mountains, and talk to his fairy friends about the matter. So early in the morning, he hurried to the hill tops, and going into one of the caves, met the fairies and told them his troubles.


She asked her boy where he had got them. He told her what a nice time he had enjoyed.


"Better save your breath to cool your porridge, you big boaster, and come out and fight," said Tom.


Cracking his whip, the new driver kept the four horses on a galloping pace, until very soon he called out "whoa," before the frowning high gateway of Giant Blubb. Tom shouted from the depth of his lungs: "Open the gate and let me drive through. This is the King's Highway."


"You've beaten me on the square, and I like you. Don't think I killed my twenty wives. They all died naturally. But call the dogs by name, and they will let you pass.


Here was a new region, rich in every kind of minerals. Ages before, the Phoenicians had named it Britain or the Land of Tin.


In Cornwall, as part of the Cymric realm, King Arthur found and married Guinevere, his queen. It was in Cornwall, also, that Merlin was hidden.


Everybody had to submit to this extortion, until there came along Giant Tom, of whom we shall now tell. His real name was Rolling Stone, for he never stuck long in one place at a job, and cared not a cucumber for money, or fine clothes.


They were the British people, and nobody ever heard the German name, "Wales," which means a foreign land; or the word "Welsh," which refers to foreigners, until men who were themselves outsiders came into Britain.


Centuries afterward, when Christ's gospel came into the land, they restored Giant Tom's tomb and on it were chiseled these words: THE RESTORER OF PATHS TO DWELL IN.


All fear, or desire to go home, or to risk either schooling or a thrashing, passed away also.


While talking thus, the Prince, the King's only son appeared. He was dressed in white velvet and gold, and had a long feather in his cap. In the pleasantest way, he took Elidyr's hand and said: "Glad to see you. Come and let us play together."


That was just what Elidyr liked to hear. The King smiled and said to his visitor, "You will attend my son?"


Yet everything was so small that it looked like Toy Land, and he felt like a giant among them, even though many of the little men around him were old enough to have whiskers on their cheeks and beards on their chins. The King spoke kindly to Elidyr, asking him who he was, and whence he had come.


The same two elves or dwarfs, who had brought him into fairyland, were chosen to conduct him back. When they had led him again through the underground passage into the sunlight, they made him invisible until he arrived at his mother's cottage.


But when, towards noon, he could find nothing to eat, and his inside cavity seemed to enlarge with very emptiness, his hunger grew every minute. Then he thought that a bit of oat cake, a leek, or a bowl of oat meal, whether porridge or flummery, might suit a king.


She asked him many questions, and he told her all he had seen, felt, or known. When he rose up to go, she begged him to stay longer, but he said he must keep his word.


At night, tired out, he crept into a cave. When he woke up, in the morning, he thought it was glorious to be as free as the wild asses. So like them, he quenched his thirst at the brook.


The King was so pleased at the lad's promptness in returning, and keeping his word, and telling the truth, that he allowed him to go see his mother as often as he wanted to do so.


Then he knew that he had been discovered. He glanced over his shoulder and there were the two little men, who had led him first and had formerly been his guards. They scowled at him as if they were mad enough to bite off the heads of tenpenny nails.


When they saw her, several learned fairies, who had come from a distance, fell at once into conversation on this subject. One remarked: "How would the Queen like to add another syllable to her name?


Then they tell you to come next day and find out what is to happen. Or, as they say in a story paper, "to be continued in our next."


The fact was, that many of the most lively fairies showed their frivolous disposition at once.


Thus they renew their love for the Fatherland and what they received long ago from their ancestors.


Almost in despair, he was about to run home, when he noticed that one of the maidens put forward her right foot. Then he saw that her sandal was tied in the way he had already wondered at. So he boldly went forward and took her by the hand. "This one is mine," said he to the father.


Rushing up to the top of a rock, overhanging the deepest part of the lake, he was just about to leap into the water and drown himself, when he heard a voice behind him, saying: "Hold rash lad, come here!"


Now the two maidens were so beautiful, yet so exactly alike, that Gwyn could not note any difference.


To this day, Physicians' Point is shown to visitors as a famous spot, and in tradition is almost holy.


Near one of these lakes dwelt a widow, with only one son, named Gwyn. One day he took his lunch of barley bread and cheese, and went out, as usual, to tend the cows.


Again the brothers were transformed into animal shape. This time, as wolves, and were driven out to the hills.


After burying the hero, King Math came back to his palace and found out what Gily had done. Then he took Goewen away from Gily, and to make amends for her trouble, in being thus torn from his palace, King Math made her his queen.


The king was gracious, and thereafter she held his feet at all the banquets. She was looked up to with reverence by all, and held the office for many years.


His eye usually wandered from the story teller to the lovely girl holding the king's feet, and he thought her as beautiful as an angel. Soon he became so lovesick, that he felt he would risk or give his life to get and have her for his own. But what would the king say?


They must tell him whether they thought him a good king during the year past. All shouted in chorus of approval. Then their spokesman addressed Powell thus: "My lord, never was thy wisdom so great, thy generosity more free, nor thy justice more manifest, than during the past year."


So the two kings confirmed the friendship they had made. Each sent the other rich gifts of jewels, horses and hounds.


The stranger at once began to upbraid Powell for being impolite. He asked why his hounds should not be allowed to hunt the deer.


He told him that one stroke of his sword would finish the enemy. He must then sheathe his weapon, and not, on any account, strike a second time.


In memory of so wonderful and happy union, of a mortal and a fairy, Powell was thereafter, in addition to all his titles, saluted as Lord of Anwyn, which is only another name for the Land of the Fairies.


Being a young man, Powell did not know at this time of his life, that red is the fairy color, and that these were all dogs from Fairyland. So he drove off the red eared hounds, and was about to let loose his own pack on the stag, when a horseman appeared on the scene.


'" Then Rhiannon, who sat beside Gwawl, urged him to attempt the task, by putting his two feet in the bag to stamp it down. No sooner had Gwawl done this, than the supposed beggar pushed him down inside the bag. Then drawing the mouth shut, he tied it tight over Gwawl's head.


Evidently the lady, who lived in the time of castles and courts, did not care to be wooed in the style of the cave men. Such manners did not suit her, but with a change of method of making love, her heart melted. Besides, she was a kind woman. She took pity on horses, as well as on men.


He would receive blows, or wounds, or else he would see something wonderful. Thus it came to pass, that none but peaceful bards had ever sat upon the mound. Never a warrior or a common man had risked sitting there. The general fear felt, and the awe inspired by the place, was too great.


But after his adventure of being King of Fairy Land for a whole year, everything else to Powell seemed dull and commonplace.


Without guile or suspicion, Powell replied innocently. "Ask what you will. If in my power, it shall be yours."


ARTICLE V. The clerk shall keep a record of the meetings, and of all business pertaining to the club, and shall hold his office for four weeks.


I am very grateful to you for the honor to my name and family which is contemplated by the excellent member on the other side of the table; but for reasons of my own, I must beg the gentleman to withdraw his motion."


Three days before, the grand jury had found a bill against Tony; but his friends still continued to regard and treat him as an innocent person.


But the members, not feeling disposed to indulge in any flights of eloquence before Captain Sedley, maintained an obstinate silence for full five minutes. The chairman, impressed with the idea that some speeches must be made, anyhow, did not interrupt the dignified quiet by putting the question.


They made but slow progress through the water, and the Zephyrs could scarcely refrain from laughing at the singular spectacle.


Taking a course in the direction of Rippleton village, Frank kept the boat as near the shore as her safety would permit. The boys rowed with remarkable precision, but with a very slow and measured stroke, so as to reserve their strength for the long pull before them.


"Mutiny!" laughed Fred Harper. "Well, I ain't a going to be snubbed round in that way."


The doors which gave egress from the boat house to the lake were thrown open by Uncle Ben. "Now, back her steady," continued Frank, standing up in the stern sheets. "Don't let her rub, Tony.


"Who stole the wallet?" said he. This taunt roused a feeling of indignation in the soul of Fred Harper; and he so far forgot the requirements of the constitution as to reply,   "Tim Bunker."


"Let him alone!" shouted Frank with frantic earnestness. "Up oars! Let fall! Give way!" Frank was fully roused, and his orders were delivered with rapidity and energy.


Captain Sedley mused a moment. "The cars start at two o'clock," said he, consulting his watch. "Boys, I must go to Boston, and you must row me down to the village as quickly as you can." "Zephyrs, ahoy!" shouted Frank. The club were in their seats in a moment, and the Zephyr darted away towards Rippleton.


"Pull," said Tim, steering directly towards the Zephyr. "Most twelve," suggested Fred Harper, with a significant glance at Frank. "Give way!" replied the latter, smiling. "Want to race?" shouted Tim.


The wind was so light, we could not sail. Will you row her over?" "Oh, yes, father."


"But that would not be civil." "We can answer them kindly if they say anything to us," replied Phil Barker. "They won't forget the smash up," suggested Mark Leman. "We can easily keep out of their way," added Fred.


The Zephyr continued on her course. It was necessary for her to pass within a short distance of the Thunderbolt, and Frank feared they would retaliate upon them for their discomfiture in the forenoon.


They passed entirely round the lake, and had given so many names to the various divisions of land and water, that it seemed improbable they could ever remember them.


Suddenly, as the Thunderbolt was on the point of pouncing upon her prey, Frank, with startling energy, gave the command,   "Way enough! Hold water! Stern all!"


"Six feet," answered Tony. "But he don't say how much short." "Can we go through in safety, Uncle Ben?" "Ay, ay; but trail your oars." Frank let the crew pull several smart strokes, and then ordered them to trail. The Zephyr darted through the narrow passage.


He disappeared beneath the dark surface of the deep water, and his boat passed over the spot. The Zephyr, impelled backward by the vigorous strokes of her crew, was several rods from the place before the club fully realized the nature of the unfortunate occurrence.


"Sylph, ahoy!" shouted Frank, rising. "What boat's that?" roared Uncle Ben, in reply. "The Zephyr, of and from Rippleton," returned the coxswain. "Can you tell me what depth of water there is in this passage?"


But there was no way to avoid them, and Frank continued his course with some misgivings as to the consequences. "Bunkers ahead!" said he. "Never mind them, Frank," added Fred Harper. "We won't say anything to them."


Tim saw that he was foiled; and enraged at his disappointment, he aimed a blow at Tony with the long stick, as his boat shot past.


"Call it Washington Sea, boys," said Mrs. Sedley. The name was given, but the geography lesson could not proceed while the music continued. "Stand by to lay on your oars!" Frank commanded. "Oars!"


Uncle Ben had landed the band at Rippleton, and had housed the Sylph, so that the Bunkers would no longer be restrained by his presence and that of Mrs. Sedley. But there was no way to avoid them, and Frank continued his course with some misgivings as to the consequences.


"We must pass them somewhere; and they can cut us off, whatever course we take." "Smash them if they come too near," said Fred. "No, no, Fred; that wouldn't do. When I tell you to stop and back her, do it promptly, and we can easily get away from them.


The Thunderbolt was much nearer the place where Tim had disappeared than the Zephyr; but her crew seemed to be utterly paralyzed by the event, and unable to render the slightest assistance.


"Tony is accused of the crime, and you know what a terrible thing it would be to have an innocent person suffer." "I s'pose it would." "You know Tony saved your life." "So I needn't be evidence against him," growled Tim. Captain Sedley was astonished at his want of even the commonest feeling of gratitude.


This fact was rendered the more apparent by the contrast between the conduct of the crew of the Zephyr and that of the Thunderbolt. With all their exertion, on account of their want of discipline, the latter had been unable even to reach the spot until the former had received Tim on board.


"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"


Presently he found that he must make a very long jump to reach the next tree. He had often made as long a jump as this and thought nothing of it, but now he was so tired that the distance looked twice as great as it really was.


His hands just touched the tip of the nearest branch of the other tree. He tried his very best to hold on, but he couldn't. Then down, down, down he fell.


Old Redtail hissed sharply, and the feathers on the top of his head stood up in a way they do when he is angry. And he was angry  very angry.


You see, a very daring idea had come into his head. He had seen at once that Redtail was dozing and hadn't seen him at all. He knew that Redtail would just as soon have Shadow the Weasel for dinner as himself, and a very daring plan had popped into his head.


Yes, Sir, he was in a peck of trouble. There was no doubt about it. "Oh, dear! Oh, dear! If only I had kept my tongue still! If only I had kept my tongue still!" he kept saying over and over to himself, as he hurried through the Green Forest.


Peter rabbit went straight over to the old stone wall on the edge of the Old Orchard, lipperty lipperty lip so fast that it didn't take him long to get there.


That sleeping business always puzzles Peter. It seems to him like a terrible waste of time. But Chatterer had too much on his mind to waste time wondering how other people could sleep all winter. He couldn't himself, and now that he had been driven away from his own home in the Green Forest by fear of Shadow the Weasel, he couldn't waste a minute.


"I believe I will," said he, and without waiting to hear what the first little voice would say to that, he turned about and very carefully and softly tiptoed back to the old stone wall. Right near it was a thick little bush. It seemed to Peter that it must have grown there just to give him a hiding place.


But all the time Chatterer was watching out of the corners of his eyes to see if Peter was hiding anywhere near.


But after a while, when nothing happened, Chatterer grew careless. At first it had seemed very dangerous to go over to the corn crib, but after he had been there often, it didn't seem dangerous at all.


I can get it and hide it to morrow morning."


VIII CHATTERER GROWS CARELESS When you grow careless even though It be in matters small, Old Mr. Trouble you will find Is bound to make a call.


They would have seen Chatterer the Red Squirrel, the boaster, he of the sharp wits, showing quite as much curiosity as ever possessed Peter Rabbit.


Chatterer was sure that it hadn't been there the day before. It was a very queer looking thing, very queer indeed. And then he spied another queer looking thing near it, only this was very much smaller. What could they be? He looked at them suspiciously. They looked harmless enough. They didn't move.


It frightened Chatterer so that he scurried away.


Chatterer pushed the little door with his nose, and it opened a teeny, weeny bit. He drew back suspiciously. Then he tried it again, and this time pushed the little door a little farther open.


The little wire door had closed. Old Mr. Trouble had got Chatterer at last.


"I believe it would be just the same with the ugliest old rat that ever lived. She would try to think of some excuse for letting it go."


Chatterer was very miserable, so miserable and frightened that he could do nothing but sit huddled up in a little shivery ball. He hadn't the least doubt in the world that this was his very last day, and that Farmer Brown's boy would turn him over to cruel Black Pussy for her breakfast. Farmer Brown's boy had left him in the trap in the house and had gone out.


At first, Chatterer just sulked in one corner. He still felt sure that something terrible was going to happen. Farmer Brown's boy took the box out into the shed and put it where the sun shone into it. For a little while he stayed watching, but Chatterer still sulked and sulked.


Ever so many times Farmer Brown's boy came to see him, and whistled and called softly to him. But Chatterer didn't make a sound. At last night came, and the woodshed where his prison was grew dark and darker and very still.


There was that little heap of nice shavings and bits of rag for him to make a nice comfortable bed of, but he didn't touch them. No, Sir, he just tried to make himself miserable. Not once that long day did he poke so much as the tip of his nose out of his little round doorway.


It was a very foolish thing to do, but he made up his mind that he just wouldn't eat. He wouldn't touch that nice, yellow corn Farmer Brown's boy had put in his prison for him. He would starve himself to death. Yes, Sir, he would starve himself to death.


XIV CHATTERER DECIDES TO LIVE At first Chatterer decided that he had rather die than live in a prison, no matter how nice that prison might be. It was a very foolish thing to do, but he made up his mind that he just wouldn't eat.


His stomach was empty, and it kept telling him so.


All his life Chatterer the Red Squirrel had looked on Farmer Brown's boy as his enemy, just as did all the other little people of the Green Meadows, the Green Forest, and the Smiling Pool. They feared him, and because they feared him, they hated him. So whenever he came near, they ran away.


After a little, as soon as he saw Farmer Brown's boy coming, Chatterer would begin to wonder what good thing he had brought this time, and would grow terribly impatient for Farmer Brown's boy to go away so that he could find out.


XV FARMER BROWN'S BOY TRIES TO MAKE FRIENDS Nobody lives who's wholly bad; Some good you'll find in every heart. Your enemies will be your friends. If only you will do your part.


After a long, long time, his little round doorway let in the light once more. The door had been opened. At first Chatterer didn't dare go out, but he heard the soft little whistle with which Farmer Brown's boy always called him when he had something especially nice for him to eat, so at last he peeped out.


And always right at hand was plenty to eat  corn and nuts and other good things such as Chatterer loves.


Now of course Chatterer the Red Squirrel couldn't disappear without being missed, particularly by Sammy Jay. And of course Sammy couldn't miss Chatterer and not wonder what had become of him.


After a while, the door of the farmhouse opened, and Farmer Brown's boy stepped out. Sammy had his mouth open to scream, when his sharp eyes saw something queer. Farmer Brown's boy had a queer looking box in his arms which he put on a shelf where the sun would shine on it. It looked to Sammy as if something moved inside that box.


Very early the next morning, Sammy flew over to the corn crib. He looked it all over with his sharp eyes and listened for sounds of Chatterer inside. But not a sound could he hear. Then he remembered the hole under the edge of the roof through which Chatterer used to go in and out.


There was Chatterer the Red Squirrel!


He was sure that Shadow had not caught Chatterer.


In the second place, Sammy fairly ached all over to spread the news through the Green Forest and over the Green Meadows. You know he is a great gossip. And this was such unusual news.


You see, he knew all about Chatterer and how he had been kept a prisoner by Farmer Brown's boy. "Why! Whye e! Is this really you, Chatterer?" he exclaimed. "However did you get out of your prison? I'm glad, ever and ever so glad, that you got away." Chatterer flirted his tail in the saucy way he has, and his eyes twinkled.


Everybody knew that he had been a prisoner, and now that he was free, everybody would believe whatever he told them about how he got away. Was there ever such a chance to make his friends and neighbors say: "What a smart fellow he is!" "I  I  " Chatterer stopped. Then he began again.


Tommy didn't need to be told that it was Blacky the Crow, who didn't dare come any nearer.


The trouble was that every time he said it, a little voice, a little, truthful voice down inside, seemed to speak right up and tell him that he was afraid.


This time it wasn't a voice inside. No, indeed! It was a voice from the top of one of the apple trees in the Old Orchard, and this is what it said: "Coward! Coward! Coward!"


No, Sir, Tommy knew better. You see, he has a great deal of common sense under the little black cap he wears.


A rosy purple half betrays The wealth the lilacs fold; The torches of the tulips blaze In flames of red and gold; Peach boughs are blossoming above, —But oh, the vague heartache thereof!


And lightly arching up the east In faintly penciled lines, That throb and flush to tinted bars, A double rainbow shines. It seems to touch the fragrant earth, Till, tangled in the breeze, It winds a film of irised light About the distant trees.


In rosy wreaths upon the swales And fallow fields the bindweed trails, And late sown buckwheat swiftly pales To blossoming anew. The pond within the pasture land Reflects the cattle as they stand In depths of dipping sedges and Of tangled meadow rue.


—Ah me! 'twas years ago the birds Fled swift o'er that far golden tree; And wherefore now come back these words, "Prepare for death, and follow me"?