grandsons had made friends, although both the boys' fathers knew, and approved of it, although for somewhat different reasons."The Whitefoot boy," Mr. Davenant had said to his wife, "is, I fancy from what I have seen of him, of a different type to his father and grandfather. I met him the other day when I was out, and he spoke as naturally and outspokenly as Walter himself. He seems to have got rid of the Puritanical twang altogether. At any rate, he will do Walter no harm; and,

roprietor in turnips or mangold-wurzel.Mr. Traveller having finished his breakfast and paid his moderatescore, walked out to the threshold of the Peal of Bells, and, thencedirected by the pointing finger of his host, betook himself towardsthe ruined hermitage of Mr. Mopes the hermit. For, Mr. Mopes, by suffering everything about him to go to ruin, andby dressing himself in a blanket and skewer, and by steeping himselfin soot and grease and other nastiness, had acquired great renown inall that

arks of any sort. All round us, turn which way we might, nothing was to be seen but the majestic solitude of the hills. No living creatures appeared but the white dots of sheep scattered over the soft green distance, and the skylark singing his hymn of happiness, a speck above my head. Truly a wonderful place! Distant not more than a morning's drive from noisy and populous Brighton--a stranger to this neighborhood could only have found his way by the compass, exactly as if he had been sailing

rtain: there has been fierce fighting in Natal, and, under Heaven, we have held our own: perhaps more. 'Boers defeated.' Let us thank God for that. The brave garrisons have repelled the invaders. The luck has turned at last. The crisis is over, and the army now on the seas may move with measured strides to effect a final settlement that is both wise and just. In that short message eighteen years of heartburnings are healed. The abandoned colonist, the shamed soldier, the 'cowardly Englishman,'

ld son, have you been a good boy to-day?" asked Mr. Moore as Roger slid into his place at the table."No, sir. I've been pretty bad. Say, Papa, how much would it cost to build a railroad, under the ground, from our house to Prebles'?" "A good deal of money. What way were you bad, Rog?" "Oh, about every way, temper and all. Papa, I guess I'll build that railroad. I got a big piece of pipe and a gauge that might work. Guess I might begin to make a engine. Aren't I a

ouse, where we will see what can be done for him. Now, my dear, the evening meal awaits us, and I for one shall partake of it with a keener relish that this unfortunate affair has terminated so happily.""I pray God, Graham, that it may be terminated," replied Mrs. Hester, fervently, as she took the child from its father's arms and strained him to her bosom. The whole of this dramatic scene had transpired within the space of a few minutes, and when the men approached to lift the

perhaps, but littleenlightening, for they can have little bearing upon our conception ofwhat we ought to do.A presumption against this arbitrary assumption that we have the one andonly desirable code is suggested the unthinking acceptance of thetraditional by those who are lacking in enlightenment and in the capacityreflection. Is it not significant that a contact with new ways ofthinking has a tendency, at least, to make men broaden their horizon andto revise some of their views? In other

!Nevertheless, no one ever questioned the wealth of the Crudens, least of all did the Crudens themselves, who took it as much for granted as the atmosphere they breathed in. On the day on which our story opens Mr Cruden had driven down into the City on business. No one knew exactly what the business was, for he kept such matters to himself. It was an ordinary expedition, which consisted usually of half a dozen calls on half a dozen stockbrokers or secretaries of companies, with perhaps an

finally at that moment, they would have done so with no more concern for preliminary detail than a bird or squirrel. The wagon rolled steadily on. The boy could see that one of the teamsters had climbed up on the tail-board of the preceding vehicle. The other seemed to be walking in a dusty sleep."Kla'uns," said the girl. The boy, without turning his head, responded, "Susy." "Wot are you going to be?" said the girl. "Goin' to be?" repeated Clarence.