pression of countenance common, indeed here, but difficult to define; a look not exactly of suffering, but as of having suffered from cruelty. He stopped in his song.

"Want donkey? want donkey?"

"No." Whereupon, instead of pestering me -for donkey-boys are usually as persistent as the native flies the song was continued, and he made off. I looked in amaze after this barelegged phenomenon. "Come back," I cried.

Want donkey? Dis donkey better than Ali-more go, more go."

"What do you know of Ali ?" I said.

Would you go so far?" I asked.

Me go Thebes-go Philoe-many days-twe moons-plenty piastre ;" and he waved his hands wildly towards the river.

"Well, now, run as I bid you ;" and, without more ado, off he went.

I thought no more of him till the morrow. Next morning, however, while dressing, I looked out on the gardens, where, through the leafy avenue, the sun was streaming down. There stood Said, beneath the nearest tree, in wait for my earliest appearing. His donkey's head was garlanded with fresh flowers, and Saïd, a bit of a dandy himself, had donned a clean white turban for the occasion, and wound himself up in the gayest of Damascus scarfs.

From that time Saïd stuck by me. For better er for worse I kept him. We wandered together over many a league, both of desert and green country lane, and we never quarrelled. His donkey was of a contemplative cast of mind, but brisk enough when occasion required it. We soon came to a mutual understanding, and regulated our moods accordingly.

The Rev. Dr. Manning, in his "Land of the Pharaohs," gives his experiences of the donkeyboys as follows: "We only escaped from the hands of the boatmen to fall into those of the E donkey-boys.. These Arab lads are surely the cleverest and most impudent little urchins on earth. Our city Arabs cannot compare with them. In broken English they vaunt the praises of their animals. "Take my donkey; him berry good donkey; him name Billy BarIt low. If the traveller be presumably an American, the sobriquet is changed to 'Yankee Doodle. One ingenious youth, whose only garment was a ragged cotton shirt, through which his tawny skin showed conspicuously, hi having tried Billy Barlow,' and half a dozen ames besides, made a final appeal by exclaiming, Him name Rosher Tishburne; him speak English; him say, 'How you do, sar?' It theas impossible either to lose one's temper or ain one's gravity amid this merry clamorous Cowd."

THE

I

of Another traveller tells us, however, how he gradually obtained the victory over even the Alexandria donkey-boys. "By degrees I made important discovery, and that is that by aliantly frequenting the same streets day by day, fstinately persisting in walking till you are carried into a seat, and then tendering the very allest coin in your possession, their ambition robtaining you as a prize becomes gradually amped. They look upon you as a fellah, or a iser, or a being unworthy of further enterprise Or scuffling. The cries of Donkey, sir? Monkey?' as you pass, become less and less requent, and very soon I have great hopes will,

in my case, cease altogether. By practising this ruse throughout all the streets of the town

in succession, I hope to win. But now I have an errand to go to the farther end of the town,

through streets I have seldom frequented before, and as I put down my pen I sigh to think of

the desperate struggle in store for me with the donkey-boys of Egypt.'

The Triumphal Start.

STORY.

CHAPTER II.

S

OME days after the proclamation had been made at the post-house, Ernest set out with three strong horses, and a large carrier' sledge

pretty well filled with goods, including provisions for his journey, together with a sheepskin and a blanket for his nightly rest at post-house or inn. Ludwig and Lotchine wished him a good journey, and gave him the usual command to take whatever goods he could make room for. There seemed to be nobody on the road but himself that day. When he had left the posthouse fairly behind, there was neither sight nor sound of man along the highway or in the bordering forest; but before Ernest came within sight of the barracks he was surprised by the sudden appearance out of the shadow of the tall pines of a peasant man and woman carrying between them a child's coffin made of rough deal, as usual among the humbler classes of the

country.

"Good luck to you, and all that is with you, honest lad," said the man, addressing him in the fashion of the forest peasantry. "Are you going to Brodzowa?"

"Good comfort to you," said Ernest, making a bow to the little coffin, for he was courteous, according to the customs of the land. "I am going to Petersburg, but I expect to be at Brodzowa by nightfall.'

Then, my honest lad, for charity sake, help us to get there with the coffin of our grandchild, the last we had to lose in this world. Sons and daughters, with all their children, have gone before us to the grave; and three days ago it was our Lord's will to take from us our little Feodor, a darling boy, in his seventh year;' and the man's voice was choked by sobs.

"Ah, that he was," said the woman, "a dear and blessed child; and we have carried his coffin in our poor old arms nearly nine versts through the forest, wishing to take it to Brodzowa, our native place, to lay him beside his kindred in its old churchyard. Will you, for Christian charity, give us a lift on your sledge?" Ernest had been gazing at them more than good manners would have allowed him to do under other circumstances. Though in the common dress of the forest people, with nothing remarkable about them, except that both appeared to be stooped with age, and were so completely wrapped up from the cold that nothing but the end of the man's red beard and the tip of the woman's nose could be seen, yet the tones in which they spoke, particularly the woman, were so singular, that Ernest thought he had never heard the like before. Both voices had a whistling sound, as if sent through a metal pipe; but in the woman's there was a strange depth and hardness, which, in spite of her gentle words, made one think of flinty rocks at the bottom of a cavern. But how foolish and uncivil it was to show such surprise because people had queer-sounding voices! Ernest recollected himself in a minute, and answered, "I would be willing enough, but neither the sledge nor horses are mine, and my master's orders are to take any goods that offer on my way. However, while there is room you are welcome. Lay the child's coffin on that bale of lambskins, and get up yourselves. If I can do no better, I will take you part of the journey." The man and woman did as he bade them, with many thanks and blessings for helping a poor old pair, whose hearts were broken by the loss of their grandchild, and whose limbs were weary with carrying its coffin through the rough forest ways. But, as Ernest drove on, their sorrow and their weariness appeared to wear off rapidly. They entered into conversation with him on the subject which was then uppermost at every

heard or thought about it, told him their share of the news, which consisted chiefly of the

mighty efforts the Petersburg officer was making H

to discover what had become of Blumberg, and their own opinion that the merchant had absconded with his valuables in that extraordinary way, and hidden himself somewhere to cheat his creditors.

WOOD CARVING. CHAPTER II.-HOW TO MAKE A RUI

AVING in the last chapter explain to begin, and described the needfu etc., we may now fairly make a start. common but exceedingly useful ar Suppose, for a first effort, we attempt t ruler; one, say, an inch wide and tw fifteen inches long.

a

if you have it-and cut the edges as t Take one of your pieces of board-whi straight as you can, then lay a whole s rather fine sand-paper (No. 1 is the best) o fectly flat surface, like the top of an un table or box, and rub the edge of the and fro, lengthwise, till the edge is smooth and straight. If you hold thi nearly horizontally, and turned towards th from it, and closing the other eye, loo one end opposite the eye, and five or six the edge, you can see very plainly whet

No goods were offered in the few villages they passed through, and the old pair rode on with Ernest till nightfall, when, according to his aeckoning, he reached Brodzowa, a poor hamlet in the midst of a solitary plain, or, rather, opening of the forest, with an old church, an extensive churchyard, and the priest's house hard by its gate. At the sight of the place the old man and woman's sorrow seemed to return. They wrung their hands over the little coffin and sobbed inside their mufflings, till Ernest felt ready to weep with them; and, as soon as he had got his sledge and horses put up at the post-edge is true or not. house, he returned to the churchyard to assist in the funeral of their grandchild.

The priest, who, as often happens in the country churches of Russia, was sexton and beadle, clerk and pastor, made short work of it, knowing that the poor old peasants could give him but scanty fees. He brought out a pan of burning charcoal, to thaw the frozen ground. When that was partly done, he dug a shallow grave, grumbling all the time, allowed them to lay down the coffin, sprinkled it with holy water, muttered a prayer or two over it, shovelled in the earth and held out his hand for the kopecks. While the man was counting those small coins out of a worn leather purse, the woman stuck fast in the earth above her grandchild a rude but curiously-carved wooden cross, and both stood gazing on the spot where their little Feodor was laid-it was a corner of the churchyard shadowed by a young and drooping larch-as if their hearts were laid there too, till the priest told them he must lock the gate to keep out the wolves, which were sure to come prowling about where they got scent of a new grave. Then they walked slowly away with Ernest, weeping, as he guessed by the sounds, for their wrappings had never been moved; but close by the post-house they bade him goodnight, with more thanks and blessings, saying they were going to rest at the house of a relation about a verst from the hamlet.

Ernest pitied the grief of the aged pair left childless and solitary in their latter days; but he saw them no more, nor could anybody in the post-house give him the least information regarding them or their kindred in Brodzowa. The rest of his journey was without accident or adventure. He arrived safe at Petersburg, delivered his goods as directed, got a return load for Zorenoff and the intervening villages, and got home in good time, with every kopeck of the carriage money correct as usual.

The talk at the post-house was still of the lost merchant ; no trace of him had yet been discovered; but the latest news on the subject was that his friends had doubled the reward they at first offered for information regarding him; that the Russian Government had offered the same sum by proclamation throughout the forest, and that the chief of the Petersburg police, out of the esteem he had for Herr Blumberg, and the zeal for the public service, had proclaimed that he would pay down an equal sum for any sure intelligence of the merchant. This brought the rewards to six hundred roubles-a sum so large in the eyes of the forest people that they thought it must bring news of some sort.

"We will have it to tell when you come back, Ernest," said Ludwig Cepland; "for you must go to Petersburg again at the beginning of next week, if this fine clear weather continue. It is a pity to miss it There will be snow and storm enough, I'll warranty before Christmas; and I've got another load of goods; the sooner they're off the better. You must go, Ernest; take two days to rest yourself and the horses, and set out on Monday morning."

do(To be continued.) tje

Having made one edge straight, ca width you design making the ruler. measure off from it, at two or three poi do this quite well enough with a card of stiff paper; and laying down a ruler u an edge to cut through the wood with th of a sharp knife. In thin wood this is very do, and it makes a much cleaner job tha ing. Then smooth the edge as you did the being careful to keep the two edges parall the ruler may be of the same width.

Cut off the ends square. If you hav penter's square you will find it useful; the present we can do without it, using sized visiting card, which, being cut chinery, we may assume has edges at two angles. If you are advanced enough in ge to be able to construct mathematically a angled triangle, you can verify the angles card, and you will find great pleasure in ing your knowledge to such everyday use if not, we will use the card for the prese as we find it. Set one corner of the card

point where you are to cut; make one edg cide with, or be exactly even with, th of the ruler, and cut across the end by th edge.

In cutting thin wood with the gr lengthwise, you will find that you can do by laying down a ruler and drawing al edge with the point of a sharp knife, just would rule a line with a pencil, only, of holding the knife so as to be able to bea and force it into the wood, taking care it perpendicularly, so as to cut as through as possible. In cutting across th you can do it either in the same manner, mark a line with the point of the kn then use the saw; the back of the saw, h will allow you to cut only narrow strips.

inuay (ITS ORNAMENTATION.

Having now a long, narrow piece with straight even edges and square may venture upon a little ornamentation

We select, as the most appropriate fo effort, a geometrical design; that is, straight lines, which can be drawn with and compasses. Designs composed of fl natural objects, with ever-varying curve must be drawn by hand, are much mor tive, but are more difficult, and must be till we have had a little practice.

We would recommend your taking a large writing or other paper, and drawi it a pattern just the size of the ruler you make. Mark out within it the lines intend cutting them in the wood. with the pencil are easily corrected, and get the pattern exact, you can, by meast points, transfer it to the wood. You out the design carefully with scissors an and then laying it on the wood, marki with a sharp-pointed pencil, or you ma over the wood and prick through with needle, and afterwards connect the pin p pencil lines.

Having the pattern nicely and ac

irst Prize-A. W. FOULSHAM, 64, Queensbury Street, Essex Road, London, N.

Second Prizes EDWARD S. POPE, 7. Elderfield Road, Clapton Park, London, E.; and REBECCA ISABEL WILSON, 33, Addison Road North, Notting Hill, London, W. Third Prize-ALBERT HENRY SHAW, High Street, Huddersfield, Yorkshire.

It will be at once noticed that we have bracketed two names for the Second Prize, and the explanation is this. We early discovered that there was a degree of uncertainty in the minds of many readers as to whether the competition would be open to girls. Now it was our intention that the word "readers" should be construed in the broadest way, and that all coming within the stipulated age should be eligible, quite irrespective of sex; but as this does not appear to have been generally under

stood, we thought, in the circumstances, it would be fairer to the boy who had won the third place to give an extra prize to the girl who tied second, rather than allow her to displace him.

AWARD OF CERTIFICATES.

As many of the unsuccessful competitors, though unable to secure prizes, came very near to the prize-winners in the merits of their compositions, we resolved, for their encouragement, to award handsome CERTIFICATES, suitable for framing, to the most deserving of them. We at first selected the best fifty for this honourable mark of recognition, but in view of the number of competitors, and the excellence of much of the work done, we have extended the list to one hundred. The names are as follows:

JOHN WOOD, 145, Birstall Street. Leicester.-FREDERICK HERBERT FRENCH, Belle Vue Cottage, Bognor, Sussex.-JAMES BRETT, 45, Fetter Lane, Holborn, E.C. -HERBERT W. GIBSON, School House, Brentwood, Essex.-D. STORRAX MELDRUM, Townsend Place, Kirkcaldy, Fife.-ALFRED LEWIS ROBINSON, 29, Haldane Road, Fulham, S. W.-JAMES E. SMITH, 20, Buckingham Road, Kingsland, N.-RICHARD RABSON, 9, Pavilion Buildings, Brighton.-THOMAS JAMES GREEN, 31, Kingsley Road, Maidstone, Kent. - OCTAVIUS THOMAS, Penyparke School, Aberystwyth - JONAH HODGESS SMITH, 22, Alpha Place, Bordesley Green, Birmingham.-FREAK W. CARVER, 57, High Street, Shadwell, London, E. - ROBERT BARRON, 9, N. S. Andrew's Street, Aberdeen.-ERNEST SAVAGE, Salisbury Street. Blandford, Dorset.-VICTOR HENRY BELL, High Street, Batheaston, near Bath.-JOHN PRESTON, Benyon Street, Shrewsbury.-STANLEY WILTON, Manor House School, Clapham.-JAMES SILVER, 10, Edward Street. Burdett Road, E.-CHARLES BENJAMIN IPE, 200, Kilburn Lane, Kensal Green, W.-REGINALD KEMP, 35, Clanricarde Gardens, Bayswater, W.ALEX. K. HAMILTON, The Bank, Carrickfergus.-HEN

RIETTA FORRESTER MACARTHUR, 13, Royal Terrace, Glasgow. FRED STUART BROWNE, 12, Oxford Terrace, Edinburgh. -RICHARD PLANTAGENET NYREN, 9, Church Row, Hampstead, N.W.-ALICE MARGARET HUNT, 8, Rock Terrace, Stamford, Lincolnshire -ARTHUR HEYWOOD CHARLESWORTH, Rose Hill, Bowden, Cheshire, WILSON POPE, 15, Smeaton Street, Barrowin-Furness, Lancashire.-ARTHUR ARKILL, 62, Haines

Street, Nine Elms Road, Battersea. -FRANK LOWE, Anglo-French College, Finchley Road. FRANK H. CROSSLEY, 19, Weld Road, Birkdale, Southport.BASIL WOODD LOVEJOY, Grayrigg Vicarage, Kendal, Westmoreland. SAMUEL CLIFT BURN BARNARD, 19, Alfred Street, Billing Road, Northampton.-CHARLES WILLIAM FRASK, Orcheston St. George, Devizes, Wilts. SAMUEL SMITH TOURLE, 24, Buckingham Street, Brighton.-SAMUEL COUPE FOX, 9, Mount Street, Sutton-in-Ashfield, Notts. -ARTHUR EDWIN HERBERT, 12, Bowater Crescent, Woolwich, Kent. AINSWORTH BRODE, Tewin, Hertford.-FRED. W. GREGORY, Bridge

Buildings, Marlborough.-FRED. W. DYSON, Wellington Street, Oakes, Lindley, near Huddersfield.-WILLIAM AVENELL, 123, Great College Street, Camden Town.-ERNEST STAFFORD SMITH, Ferndale, Preston Road, Brighton,-JOSEPH STEER, Board School, Kingswood, near Epsom, Surrey.-CLEMENT WILLIAM MAHY, 25, East Stockwell Street, Colchester, Essex.ARTHUR E. A. PARKER, 113, Plymouth Grove, Manchester.-FRANK M. BOUGHEY, 201, West High Street, Pendleton, near Manchester.-A. WICKHAM, Bideford, Devon.-C. KATIE E. GEDGE, Barlswood Lodge, Red Hill.-H. W. BLUNT, 15. Wiltshire Road, Brixton, S. W.-JOHN FRAMPTON, 37, Waddon New Road, West Croydon.-CHARLES RAE FORBES, 89, River Street, Brechin, N.B.-BERTIE LOWDEN, 144, Jamaica Road, Bermondsey, S.E.-WILLIAM BUTLER, 5, Freehold Street, Fairfield, Liverpool.-FREDERIC JAMES WALLER, 19, Buckingham Street, Leicester.-H. COLE, 44, Halsey Street, Chelsea, S. W.-JOHN T. STEELE, 9, Longley Street, Newcastle-on-Tyne.-WILLIAM ED WARD WRIGHT, 12, St Mary's Place, Great Western Road, Glasgow.-WILLIAM JOHN ROLFE, Lympne, near Hythe, Kent.-RICHARD MUNKS, 2, Elm Villas, Dogsthorpe Road, Peterborough.-WILLIAM HUDSON, 20, Tudor Grove, Wells Street, South Hackney, E.-R. A. BLANCHFORD, 1, Catherine Terrace, Teign mouth, Devon.-W. RENTON, 1, Victoria Park, Shipley,

near Leeds. DUGALD MACFADYEN, Lunderstone House, Whalley Range, Manchester.-WILLIAM THORNTON HAUGHTON, 70, Halston Street, Hulme, Manchester.field, Yorkshire.-CHARLES FIDDEAN JONES, Church ALBERT GEORGE LATHAM. Top of Warrengate, WakeHill Road, Handsworth, Birmingham.- ALBERT WATERHOUSE, 31, Hollings Terrace, Bradford, Yorkshire.-JOSEPH C. RICHARDS, Hakin Terrace, Milford Haven, Pembrokeshire.-HENRY THOMAS RICHARDS, 28, Mayton Street, Holloway, N.-EDWIN R. WILKINSON, 42, St. James's Street, Portsea, Hants.-FRANCIS GREEN, 1, Kinloch Street, Hornsey Road, Holloway. ALEXANDER DONALD MCLEAN, U.P. Manse, Baillieston, Glasgow.-LOUISA JANE BULLARD, care of D. H. Palmer, Toftwood Common, East Dereham. - GEORGE GUILD, 3, St. Vigean's Road, Arbroath, Forfarshire, Scotland. FREDERICK W. JONES, 54, Northgate Street, Devizes, Wiltshire. -JOHN CHARLES THORNLEY, 4, Heskey Street, Nottingham.-JAMES EDWIN FENWICK, Floral Cottage, Bridgend, Perth, N.B. 8 W. HILL, Junior, 33, Lee Crescent, Edgbaston, Birmingham. -EDWIN JAMES, 65, Lawrence Street, Northampton. -ARTHUR TRIGGS, 13, Begent Street, Penzance. THOMAS INGHAM MILLS, Clement House, Cherry Hill, York.-A. BARTON, Richmond House,

Stoke Road, Gosport, Hants.-CECIL HARTRIDGE, 106, Grosvenor Road, Highbury New Park, N.-CHARLES ALBERT WARD, 59, Regent Street, Derby.-GEORGE

TRUNAN, 318, Grimesthorpe Road, Sheffield -CONRAD FRASER, Royal Arsenal, Woolwich. -ALB. ED. STEMBRIDGE, 7, Sudeley Terrace, Kemp Town, Brighton. -C. R. GORRINGE, 6, Oxford Terrace, Upper Holloway, N.-FREDERICK THOMAS JONES, Easthothly, Hawkhurst.-WILLIAM HENRY MIDDLETON, 63, East John Street, Newtown, Exeter.-ANDREW MELLIS, 2, Dowanhill Place, Partick, Glasgow.-FREDERICK WILLIAM HARRIS, 6, Cumberland Street, Worcester. - LAING JOHNSTON, 2, George's Terrace, Hill Street, Peckham. -HERBERT JAMES NELSON, Levafield Road, North Walsham, Norfolk.-WILLIAM WATTS, Ask Mount, Alexandria Road, Hyde, Manchester.-PETER SALMON, 26, Govanhill Street, Govanhill by Glasgow.-ALEXAN DER R. WATERS, Grove Villa, Albert Road, Crosshill, Glasgow.-HARRY HARTLEY, 65, Asylum Street, Leicester.-F. A. WHITEHEAD, 25, Queen Street, Chesterfield.-WILLIAM COWEN, 16, Scotch Street, Whitehaven, Cumberland.-JAMES WESTALL HEDLEY, Hartlepool.

Correspondence.

Of the stories sent in for this first competition, the majority kept pretty closely to the more obvious features of the picture. Generally, the lad was one who had disobeyed his parents and come up to London, or been self-willed and run away to sea, or had got into trouble of some kind or other, and coming home, it may be repentant, after long absence, found that while he might strive to live nobly for the future, the bygone years could neither be blotted out nor recalled. Father was, perhaps, dead, broken-hearted; and the widowed mother had had to give up her once happy home, and find less hospitable shelter elsewhere. Well for him if he was yet in time to make some kind of amends for the past by honourable effort, and haply win back for the bereaved parent the home once her own peaceful nest. Sometimes, however, the story closes more sadly. Here is an example :

:

"He had killed his mother, and the fatal words ring loudly and solemnly in his ears. Many a time he steals away, unobserved, to the quiet village churchyard, and there, beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap,' he weeps bitter tears of repentance over his parent's grave."

Others, again, put the moral of their story in unmistakable language-i.e. :—

"In conclusion, we learn two great lessons from this picture: 1. That we should be obedient to our parents, and ever regard their counsel. 2. That we should Scrupulously avoid evil companions and bad company."

While yet others treat the matter quite differently, yet with very considerable skill. Thus :

"May this short sketch induce in you a love of the beautiful, the true, and the noble, and a distaste for all harkaway' productions."

66

Space will not admit of our analysing the stories in detail, but the following facts may interest many readers. Very many city boys describe the house to let " as a fine or pretty dwelling, or even mansion; while most country lads set it down as a cottage at, say, 2s. 6d. a week. Numberless writers describe the lad of the picture as having been led astray by bad literature, gambling, bad companions, or drunkenness. A few give us a spoilt boy, originally with money, who gets into debt, and then runs away; a still smaller number, a lad wrongly already said, most of the competitors keep fairly charged with theft, and so on; but as we have

well to their text. One of them writes in Latin.

And now for a few final words. 1. It must be clearly understood that we cannot return MSS., and to this rule we can make no exceptions. 2. Many competitors cut out the picture and sent it with their мss., which was a great pity. as this would spoil their paper to no purpose. 3. Others made copies of the sketch, but as this was not asked for, it could not count in the Award. 4. Many contravened the rules (which see), their stories being written on both sides the paper, or sent in without certificate, age, etc., and just a few MSS. came to hand without any name or address, or other means of identifica tion.