nough to tease.'Look here,' said Anthea. 'Let's have a palaver.' This worddated from the awful day when Cyril had carelessly wished thatthere were Red Indians in England--and there had been. The wordbrought back memories of last summer holidays and everyonegroaned; they thought of the white house with the beautifultangled garden--late roses, asters, marigold, sweet mignonette,and feathery asparagus--of the wilderness which someone had oncemeant to make into an orchard, but which was now, as

And now "Eastward ho!" for "experiences" in Bethnal Green. CHAPTER II. EAST LONDON ARABS. Notwithstanding my previous experiences among the Western tribes of Bedouins whose locale is the Desert of the Seven Dials, I must confess to considerable strangeness when first I penetrated the wilderness of Bethnal Green. Not only was it utterly terra incognita to me, but, with their manifold features in common, the want and squalor of the East have traits distinct from those of the

said Polly, decidedly. "I'd have two hundred,all in a row!""Two hundred candles!" echoed Joel, in amazement. "Mywhockety! what a lot!" "Don't say such dreadful words, Joel," put in Polly, nervously,stopping to pick up her spool of basting thread that was racingaway all by itself; "tisn't nice." "Tisn't worse than to wish you'd got things you haven't," retortedJoel. "I don't believe you'd light 'em all at once," he

earnestness. He even found leisure to organize a theatrical company (in which he himself acted with a number of other famous writers of the time), which gave several plays for the benefit of charity. One of these was performed before Queen Victoria.People have often wondered how Dickens found time to accomplish so many different things. One of the secrets of this, no doubt, was his love of order. He was the most systematic of men. Everything he did "went like clockwork," and he prided

asked."In Room B, away from the crowd. She is not alone. A young lady detained with the rest of the people here is keeping her company, to say nothing of an officer we have put on guard." "And the victim?" "Lies where she fell, in Section II on the upper floor. There was no call to move her. She was dead when we came upon the scene. She does not look to be more than sixteen years old." "Let's go up. But wait--can we see that section from here?" They were

lded merit.Inevitably, since the industrial revolution, modernist critics havetended to stress its appeal to class consciousness. This appeal, realthough it is, can be overemphasized. The rude forefathers are notprimarily presented as underprivileged. Though poverty-stricken andignorant, they are happy in family life and jocund in the field."Nature is nature wherever placed," as the intellectuals of Gray'stime loved to say, and the powers of the village fathers, potentially,equal the

d before him.BARABAS. So that of thus much that return was made;And of the third part of the Persian shipsThere was the venture summ'd and satisfied.As for those Samnites, and the men of Uz,That bought my Spanish oils and wines of Greece,Here have I purs'd their paltry silverlings.Fie, what a trouble 'tis to count this trash!Well fare the Arabians, who so richly payThe things they traffic for with wedge of gold,Whereof a man may easily in a dayTell that which may maintain him all his life.The

tin, the state barber. Others, with clothes thrownover their arms, bustled down the passage which led to the ante-chamber.The knot of guardsmen in their gorgeous blue and silver coatsstraightened themselves up and brought their halberds to attention,while the young officer, who had been looking wistfully out of thewindow at some courtiers who were laughing and chatting on the terraces,turned sharply upon his heel, and strode over to the white and gold doorof the royal bedroom.He had hardly

lled The forest, letting in the sun, and made Broad pathways for the hunter and the knight And so returned.For while he lingered there, A doubt that ever smouldered in the hearts Of those great Lords and Barons of his realm Flashed forth and into war: for most of these, Colleaguing with a score of petty kings, Made head against him, crying, 'Who is he That he should rule us? who hath proven him King Uther's son? for lo! we look at him, And find nor face nor bearing, limbs nor voice, Are like to