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ll the world on his mountain-pile of history and romance. Longfellow, I believe, is not yet at the Oxbow, else the winged horse would neigh at him. But here in Lenox I should find our most truthful novelist [Miss Sedgwick], who has made the scenery and life of Berkshire all her own. On the hither side of Pittsfield sits Herman Melville, shaping out the gigantic conception of his 'White Whale,' while the gigantic shadow of Greylock looms upon him from his study window. Another bound of my flying

miled slowly, showing a row of very white, strong teeth."I know, auntie," she said. "No; I shouldn't think Laurie'll mind much. Perhaps he'll go back to town in the morning, too." "No, my dear, he's staying till Thursday." * * * * * There fell again one of those pleasant silences that are possible in the country. Outside the garden, with the meadows beyond the village road, lay in that sweet September hush of sunlight and mellow color that seemed to embalm the

self as if I was cruel in going to be married and not helping you. It ain't kind. Now, is it kind, Poor Thing?""Sally! Hear me, my dear. My entreaty is for no help in the future. It applies to what is past. It is only to be told in two words." "There! This is worse and worse," cries Sally, "supposing that I understand what two words you mean." "You do understand. What are the names they have given my poor baby? I ask no more than that. I have read of the

crop upagain wherever the hair grew thin, lending him the appearance of abadly-singed pup.His pet superstition was that, as long as he refrained from practisinghis profession in Paris, Paris would remain his impregnable Tower ofRefuge. The world owed Bourke a living, or he so considered; and it mustbe allowed that he made collections on account with tolerable regularityand success; but Paris was tax-exempt as long as Paris offered himimmunity from molestation. Not only did Paris suit his tastes

ad all the way is like a circus," the young soldier observed, "and there isn't a thing to be seen when you get there. The naval airmen were all over the place at daybreak, and Captain Griffiths wasn't far behind them. You didn't leave much for the sightseers, sir," he concluded, turning to his neighbour."As Commandant of the place," Captain Griffiths replied, "I naturally had to have the Common searched. With the exception of the observation car, however, I think

a foreign land, father?""Ay, but he will return. His deer are not yet to be slain by your arrows, child. When you are Ranger at Locksley, in your father's stead, who shall then say you nay?" "My father does not shoot the King's deer, except those past their time," answered Robin, quickly. "He tends them, and slays instead any robbers who would maltreat or kill the does. Do you think I could hit yon beast, father? He makes a pretty mark, and my arrow would but prick

to a low birth rate. Now, supplied with great quantities of iron by their unremitting industry, they were moved to prodigies of multiplication.The chairman of the Dail Committee on the Condition of the Planet Eire had spoken of them scornfully as equal to mice. They were much worse. The planetary government needed at least a pied piper or two, but it tried other measures. It imported cats. Descendants of the felines of Earth still survived, but one had only to look at their frustrated, neurotic

ding. Speaking into an audioscriber, a machine that transmitted his spoken words into typescript, he repeated the names of the candidates as they passed."Cadet Candidate Tom Corbett," announced Tom, and Herbert repeated it into the audioscriber. "Cadet Candidate Astro!" The big Venusian stepped forward. "What's the rest of it, Mister?" inquired Herbert. "That's all. Just Astro." "No other names?" "No, sir," replied Astro. "You

le. He led a wicked life, and was killed by one of his own men while hunting in the forest.And Henry, the Handsome Scholar, had not only the chest of gold for his own, but he became by and by the King of England and the ruler of all the lands that his father had had in France. THE WHITE SHIP. King Henry, the Handsome Scholar, had one son, named William, whom he dearly loved. The young man was noble and brave, and every-body hoped that he would some day be the King of England. One summer Prince

e sure they would now add to their former pridewhat malice and rage against Shaddai, and against his Son, theycould. Wherefore, roving and ranging in much fury from place toplace, if, perhaps, they might find something that was the King's,by spoiling of that, to revenge themselves on him; at last theyhappened into this spacious country of Universe, and steer theircourse towards the town of Mansoul; and considering that that townwas one of the chief works and delights of King Shaddai, what