through with their knives, and each length was then twisted tightly up.

The bed-ticking was treated in the same manner, but that being of less strength gave them only six much shorter lengths. The sacking and rope at the bottom of the bed would, Bill was sure, reach at all events to a short distance from the ground.

As they twisted and bent one piece to another they surveyed their work with satisfaction, and were convinced that it would bear their weight, though it would hardly have borne that of a man of moderate size. To try it, they tugged away against each other, and it held perfectly firm.

"It will do famously," exclaimed Bill, after they had joined all the pieces together. "Even if it does not quite reach to the ground, I should not mind dropping a dozen feet or so."

But if we do that, the noise we make in our fall may be heard," said Jack. "Hadn't we better bend on the coverlid? It's not so strong as the sheets, but we can put it at the lower end."

Bill agreed to this, and, as it was of considerable width, it formed three lengths.

"We have enough almost for a double rope, I expect," said Bill, as he coiled it away ready to carry to the window at the opposite side of the room.

him ?

He could with difficulty refrain from crying out; still, as there would be no use in attempting to get up the rope again, he continued to lower himself.

The hand was withdrawn, and presently he found that he had reached the ground. "All right," whispered Bill in his ear; "I caught hold of your ankle to let you understand that you were close to the bottom. Now let's be off! The harbour lies directly under yonder star. I marked its position during daylight, and again just before I began to descend the rope.'

(To be continued.)

THE GRAVELLING TRUSTEES. ARLY one morning, many years ago, I was

"Who paid her for all this trouble?" as if no one would do it except for money.

This winter has been long and severe, and for one week in February the gravelling had not been done. The carmen carried the word home, "The old lady 's dead, she's gone at last." So who trod so firmly over the "bad bit" had lost it was, and thenceforward the noble animals their friend.

Very soon her death became known, and people in Trinity Square and the Tower (for there is quite a little town in the Tower of London, officers and warders, storekeepers and beefeaters), drew down their blinds on the day of the funeral of Miss Lisetta Rist, whose name had never been told till her merciful work had ceased. But now the daily papers have recorded her singular history, and it is known that she lived at Stratford, some miles from Tower Hill, the scene of her early know also that she has left £1,500 in trust with morning labours carried on for forty years; and we four respectable carmen, called in her will her may be carried on for ever. Gravelling Trustees," so that her good work

66

Boys of England, you are spirited, brave, and full of courage; be merciful also, and merciful to animals. You love your dog, your pigeons, your rabbits; you must have your pets, and you do well to like them; but be merciful to all living creatures, and remember that wherever God has given life you have no right wantonly to destroy it.

Of course we must have food, and the lives of animals fit for food must be taken to feed the people. What I am warning you against is cruelty in what is called your "sport." This spirit in a boy is unmanly and despicable. То inflict pain for the sake of doing so, and to take

I

for that," said Jack; "even if we had, it won't matter leaving the rope behind. The Frenchmen will see by the disappearance of the bedclothes how we got out. advise that we make only one rope, and just get down to the ground as quietly as we can manage to do."

Bill made another trip to the door to

listen.

"No one is coming," he whispered, as he returned. Now, let's carry the rope to the window."

They did so, and Bill leant out to listen again. No sounds reached his ear except the occasional barking of a dog.

"The people go to bed early in this country," he observed, "and I am very much obliged to them. We may start, Jack, without much fear of being stopped." "But don't let us forget our grub," said Jack; and they filled their pockets with the provisions the old woman had brought them, tying up the remainder in their handkerchiefs, which they fastened to the lanyards of their knives.

"Now let's bend on the rope," said

Bill.

the darkness.

London Docks, when I saw a poorly-clad woman standing in the middle of the road with a basket in her hand, from which she threw broadcast what might have been pigeons' food, but what really was nothing but common sand. The day was frosty, and the horses stumbled as they pulled their heavy loads up the hill in front of the Mint, but they never fell, because they gained a firm footing by the help of the rough said she was shabbily dressed, and so she was, sand or gravel this lady had scattered there. I but I call her a lady because I am sure she had a lady's heart. People stood round watching (an idle crowd of gapers will always collect in London to look at anything), and while some said "She's daft, poor thing," others said, "Well, that's kind, anyhow." Though I felt the same, I said nothing, but I remember standing and wondering and honouring the poor lady for what she did, and I think I learnt a lesson never to be forgotten.

times accompanied by a sister; and when the Every winter's morning she was there, somesnow was frozen into ice, be sure you would see the friend of the poor horses at her post. The police were always ready to protect her when rude boys threw snowballs or otherwise affronted her; and as to the rough drivers, they never said a jeering word, they knew it was for their horses. To one she would say, "Wait till I put some gravel down." Another was urged to get out of his van and take his horse's head, lest the poor animal should go down; and these drivers did as she told them, thanking her in their own rough way. No one knew where she came from, or whither she went, but you could mark her Corner, along the Minories and by Postern Row. track by the "Crooked Billet" and Sparrow When gravel was not so much needed she might be seen on Tower Hill, where the cabs stand, asking "cabby" to strap his horse's nosebag up so that the poor animal might "have a chance" of getting at his corn; and even the donkeys in the costermongers' carts were treated all the better for her good words.

The last time I saw "the horses' friend" she

looked feeble and worn, and yet the gravel was intelligent donkey, was near at hand, and she thickly strewn. A little cart, with a plump

The rope held, however, though as he felt it it appeared stretched to the utmost. He could with difficulty draw a breath, while he waited till, by finding the rope slacken, he should know that Bill had filled. went backwards and forwards to get her basket People had become familiar with her safely reached the bottom. At last he work, and such was her perseverance and good ascertained that Bill was no longer hang-will that the only wonder among the men was

when a boy, played at torturing flies, and when he became a man, and had the power of a king, he was a brutal destroyer of men and women.

Does it ever seem to you that insects are "fair game,' and so you join in sports which you have never thought to be cruel? A butterfly crosses your path; at once your cap is thrown, and other boys joining in the chase throw up their caps, and so one of the fairest things of God's creation falls a prey to the swiftest runner or the most dextrous thrower. A village lad comes along a country lane and sees the tiny light of a glow-worm; the treasure is taken home and exhibited, then put into a bottle-a thing forgotten. A boy goes out to take a walk; he sees a snail, and with his stick he thoughtlessly breaks its shell; he spies a cobweb, and with his forefinger he sends the spider spinning from the centre of its web; r, catching a fly, entagles it in the meshes of the well-laid net and watches the spider pounce upon its prey.

All this may not be "meant for

cruelty, but it is cruelty nevertheless. You young boys who spin cockchafers or otherwise torture insects will find yourselves ready to be unkind to animals, and if you allow yourselves to be heedlessly cruel you will not be slow to become wantonly so.

Who could think well of a boy who put his heel upon an ant-hill, or fired the skilfully contrived cells of a colony of wild honey-bees? and I am quite sure no boy, not absolutely wicked, would do such things if he had read books like those of Dr. Cumming, the bee-master, and Sir John Lubbock, the friend of the little ant.

In all well-conducted schools the elements at least of natural history are taught, use is now made of the microscope, and lads learn the habits and nature of animal life. They see the wonderful design of the Creator in every part, and learn to admire what before they feared, and the very things they regarded with abhorrence they now know to be harmless, and covered with beauty by Him who made all things and pronounced all to be ". very good."

Boys who pride themselves upon detesting mean actions, duplicity, and guile, should count needlessly inflicts pain on any living creature. it equally unworthy to practise any act which More than this, they should scout the companionship of boys who encourage cruelty. They should have pluck enough to rebuke the very suggestion, and they should loudly de

nounce the act if perpetrated. Such boys would grow up a blessing to society. They would never see a horse brutally flogged without remonstrance, or a poor cat pelted by boys, or a faithful dog kicked by a drunken drover, or a woman struck by the hand of a man, without an attempt to stay the act or to secure punishment.

Let but the boys of England be imbued with the sweet spirit of mercy, and cruelty to animals would be an uncommon thing, and dastardly conduct to defenceless women and little children would be a thing well-nigh unknown.

Brigade, then stationed near the place. Another was killed, I believe, in 1850.

It is, however, in the far interior of the continent that these creatures must be sought by him who would see them in the full enjoyment of that indolence for which nature seems to have designed them. In the pools of the Limpopo, or in the still more distant and secure Zambesi, herds of fifteen or twenty may be occasionally seen, each family apparently selecting its own quiet reach: perhaps where, near its delta, the river spreads into broad channels between low mud banks, which are covered with thick mangrove forests, and marked in every direction with the deep-sunk track of the huge animals; or on gently shelving sandbanks, where they lie basking in the sun, half immersed in the still water; or it may be where, still farther inland, the deep swift stream, running through its narrow cleft, spreads into some opening, and plays and whirls in gentle

possible portion of the head, snort loudly, ejecting the condensed breath like a puff of steam from each nostril, and sink again to the depths of their quiet pool. Still, several are shot annually by the colonial hunters and sportsmen who visit the interior, and many are killed by the natives, either by the suspended spear, the pitfall, or the harpoon. The first of these methods of capture has been well described by Mr. C. J. Andersson, in his work on Lake Ngami. A spot is selected where the path of the hippopotamus leads under the branches of a convenient tree. A harpoon with a barbed point, and heavy staff, still further weighted by a couple of stones fastened to it, is suspended by a line passing over the branch, and brought down to the base of the tree, where it is slightly secured by a peg in the ground. It is then carried across the path, at such a height that the animal in passing may strike it with his feet; and this, liberating it from its fastenings, allows

in the case of the Nilotic basin, they lie, like inland seas, in deep granite hollows amid surrounding mountains; or pestilential and deadly when, as in some parts of the Zambesi, they spread over level country, forming vast swamps, overgrown by reeds, affording an almost impenetrable retreat to the buffalo, the alligator, the hippotamus, and the water-loving antelope that frequent them.

The hippopotamns, or Zeecoe, was formerly abundant in the Cape Colony; and there is a tradition of one having been killed in Salt River, a little stream flowing into Table Bay, where, so saith report, the ancient Dutch colonists soon began to appreciate the many valuable properties of the animal, and the prospect of laying in a store of the delicious Zeekoe spec, or fat, tempting many a hunting-party farther and farther into the interior as the game receded.

The hippopotamus is now seldom found south of the Orange River; but many still inhabit the streams to the northward of Natal, and occasional specimens are met with in some of the rivers of Kaffirland, where, about 1847, one-which for a long time had frequented the mouth of the Buffalo River, and had frequently damaged the surf-boats and others by driving his formidable tusks through their sides-was, after many fruitless attempts to destroy or capture him, shot by Captain Roper, of the Rifle

Harpooning a Hippopotamus.

eddies under the projecting rocks. Here they disport themselves, diving to the bottom and rising again to breathe, remaining with their heads and arching necks, like those of clumsy horses, above the surface. The females carry their young upon their shoulders, and rise more frequently, that the little ones may not be exhausted by remaining too long below. Luxuriously do they bask in the sun, with their huge bodies more or less exposed upon the banks and shallows; or stray among the swampy islets, or make nocturnal visits to the cornfields of the natives.

All this security, however, vanishes before the advent of the white hunter, or the spread of fire-arms among the natives. In the Bo-tlét-le River, which, but a few years since, abounded with them, we did not see one; even in Lake Ngami it is said that only a few individuals remain; and here, as in every locality where the simple weapons of the natives have been superseded by the rifle-bullet, their habits have become so changed as hardly to be recognised as those of the same animals. No longer are they seen exposing themselves in careless security upon rocks and sandbanks, or floating incautiously above the surface; the most retired and sequestered pools or reedy coverts are sought as their retreat. If, on rising, their suspicion is in any way excited, they expose but the smallest

the weapon, sometimes rendered still more deadly by being poisoned, to fall upon his back. In either case the wound inflicted is generally mortal, and the track is followed by the natives to the pool in which he dies.

Sometimes the harpooning of the hippopota mus is effected from large rafts of reeds, such as those described by Mr. Andersson on the Teoughe; and at others from canoes alone, as on the Bō-tlét-le River, where, while travelling with Mr. James Chapman, I had an opportunity of seeing the weapons employed by Maka-tá, a headman of the Makoba or river people, who had long been known to my friend as the most successful and energetic hunter in the vicinity; The harpoon itself is but a small spear-head with one barb and a tang, by which it is inserted into the end of a heavy beam of thornwood, so loosely as to come out when the animal is struck, but still remaining fast by a skein of small cords connecting it with the beam, to the other end of which is attached a stout line of twisted palmleaf of considerable length.

The favourite haunt of their intended victim having been previously ascertained, the hunters select one or more canoes of convenient size, and approach with breathless caution, concealing themselves, is possible, behind any angles or projections of the banks, or lying motionless while he rises to breathe, and advancing when

he is again beneath the surface. At length the favourable opportunity arrives; the animal rises too near the boat, or incautiously floats upon the surface while it almost imperceptibly approaches him. The deadly barb buries itself beneath his tough hide, and he is fast.

In an agony of pain and fear he darts away, ploughing the water like a wounded whale. The shaft comes off, but remains attached to the iron by the cords, whieh, should he turn and bite them, become entangled in his teeth, and even if he succeed in severing some, are sufficiently numerous to leave plenty to retain their hold. The canoe is towed behind him by the palm line, which the men slack out or haul upon as his struggles render necessary; or even let go altogether, in the certainty that wherever the stricken creature may find refuge, the length of floating line must eventually betray him. Usually, however, in a few hours the hippota mus is wearied out, or, wounded from other canoes, and being forced, if possible, into shallow water, is secured by the harpoon-line to the

an agreeable contrast with the dark foliage and grey stems of the mimosas and other overhanging trees, and the bright green reeds of the river beyond. He reserves one tree in the centre of the village, on which he hangs the horns, tails, and other trophies of the animals he kills, as offerings to the Barimo for future success; and this, from the number of his victims, is generally a picturesque object; but he had removed so lately, that when we saw him only a few jackal-skins adorned the thorn-tree dedicated to that purpose in his new village.

The appearance of the hippopotamus in his native haunts, especially where he feels himself secure from assault, differs widely from that of the inert and sluggish animals retained in captivity. In the delta of the Zambesi, and in many places up the river, they may be seen disporting themselves in the stream, or standing in midday upon the banks or islets; and here it was that the appropriateness of the name hippopotamus first impressed itself upon my mind; for, barrel-like as is the creature's body, and

rushed at it and bit out a large portion of the bow. Fortunately the accident was witnessed from the opposite shore, and another canoe put off to the rescue, or our friend Madzekézi, who, like most of the Makololo, was unable to swim, might have fared badly. The two paddlersBatoko, or men of the river-would probably have saved themselves.

While living at Logier Hill, sixty or eighty miles below the Falls, I had good opportunities of observing these animals. We shot several, but only succeeded in securing three, one of which, a small cow, was twelve feet in length, or thirteen feet and a half including the tail, and six feet high at the shoulder; the others were larger, but my friend had no means of measuring them. The old chief Wankie remarked that four things were requisite to shoot a hippopotamus-the gun, the bullet, the fire, and the man; the shrewd emphasis he placed upon the latter word implying that he considered it a man's work to kill one. They had been much persecuted by a half-caste hunter, and were exceed.

The Hippopotamus Harpooned. short as are its legs, many of its positions, especially when only the head and slightly arched neck were seen above the water, reminded me strongly of a clumsy horse.

ingly wary, showing the merest profile of the face: the ears, the projecting eyes, and nostrils looking like vermilion in the sunlight, all the organs necessary for the comfort or security of the creature being thus above water, while no vital part was exposed except a small portion of the brain; and, at the slightest alarm, sinking to the depths, and leaving the bullet to spend itself on vacancy.

NET AND WING.

BY THE REV. J. G. WOOD, M.A., F. L.S.

It seems to be generally of a mild and inoffensive disposition, and becomes so accustomed to the passage of canoes, that I have seen, near Tette, on the lower part of the Zambesi, a hippopotamus lying on the sand-bank while a canoe landed, and the natives walked across not far from it. With one of our whale-boats it would have been almost impossible to approach him, and the steamer taken out by Dr. Living stone, splashing the water with her paddles, had no chance whatever of coming near. It is not always safe, however, to approach too closely, even in a canoe; for not improbably some solitary male, rendered furious, perhaps, by a recent battle with a rival, will rush upon and overturn, or crush it with his tremendous jaws. Of this we had an instance when Mr. Chapman and I were at the Victoria Falls. My friend had taken a canoe some miles up the river, and, having shot two hippopotami, had brought home part of the flesh of one, rewarding the native helpers with "the backbone"-a conventional term which may mean anything, up to the whole carcass-and presenting a handsome portion to the head-man, for the chief. One of the canoes, carrying part of the flesh, was crossing the river, when a hippopotamus, rendered furious probably by the smell of blood, or perhaps by being hunted during the day, full of illustrations representing the diffe.ent

EGINNERS in entomology usually find that their first idea is to procure a Net, and in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred the net will be a bad one.

In many books on but

terfly-hunting there is a pa

articles which will be required, and chief among them is the clap-net (or bat-fowling net, as it is sometimes called). It is praised as the very mainstay of the entomologist, and the writers expatiate on its large surface and the space covered with its sweep.

It is made of two rods, about five feet in length, curved towards the ends, and being connected at the tips by a strip of leather. When placed in position to receive the net, the rods look something like this figure, or a Gothic window. A piece of net or gauze is then attached to the rods, and reaches within a foot of the ends.

Thus the net can be held in both hands, and if a butterfly should come within its range the net can be shut upon it, and then laid on the ground.

I wonder whether those who have so enthusiastically praised the clap-net have tried to use

A German Enthusiast.

it. Being misled by the books, I made a point of procuring a clap-net, and as it was obtained from a regular dealer, thought that I could not have done better. It was impossible to have done worse. I naturally set down my invariable failures to my own awkwardness, but in reality they were due to the net, and not to its holder.

I have asked many entomologists the result of their experiences with the clap-net, and they all agree with my own opinion that the clapnet is the clumsiest, most fatiguing, and least effective instrument that the mind of man could have devised.

In the first place, it requires the use of both hands. Fancy running over rough ground after a Scarlet Admiral or some such swift-winged butterfly, holding the clap-net with both hands, and trying to keep one eye on the insect and the other on the ground!

Not only are both hands engaged, but the broad surface of the net catches the air, so that keeping the balance is next to impossible, especially on a breezy day. A fall while holding a clap-net is not a trifle. Both hands being engaged, you cannot save yourself, and you are sure to come on your chest and knock all the breath out of your body.

Even on a fine day, and on tolerably smooth ground, the elap-net is enough to tire any one in five minutes, and to make the shoulders ache intolerably, and the arms to feel as if they were about to drop off.

I have been told that the most fatiguing exercise of the arms is to be found in learning to manipulate Punch and Judy; but if any one should be seized with a yearning for the position of professor of Punch and Judy, and should prepare himself by a season with the clap-net, he will find himself able to hold up his arms for any length of time without inconvenience.

Then, supposing your butterfly to have been enclosed in the net, how are you to take it out

again? The only way is to lay the net flat on the ground, put one hand below the butterfly and one above it, squeeze it somehow, and then open the net.

But it is necessary to lay the net on the ground and to kneel by the side of it. This is impossible on wet or rough ground, among lucerne or heath, especially if gorse-bushes be scattered among the heath, or on waste land overrun with thistles or brambles. All these plants are loved by many butterflies, so that how to capture a butterfly among lucerne, heath, gorse, thistles, or brambles I cannot tell. I have tried it, and the only result was the loss of the butterfly, the tearing of the net, the fracture of its sticks, and countless bruises and scratches. At the dealers' you will find "scissor-nets," or "net-forceps." These are for taking moths off palings, tree-trunks, etc., but in my opinion they are as useless as the clap-net, and the is. 6d. or 2s. which is asked for them is just so much money wasted. Any moth that can be taken with the scissor-net can be pill-boxed, as has been already described in the article on Treacles. Moreover, the insect will inevitably be injured in a scissor-net, while the pill-box never inflicts the least damage on it, and there are only a few "noisy" moths, as they are called, which knock themselves about after they have been shut into

the box.

I very strongly advise all entomologists to make their own nets. Here is a way of netmaking invented by a young friend of mine, and afterwards improved.

Get an old umbrella and take out a couple of the ribs, removing also the pivots by which the spokes are attached to them. This is easily done by a few strokes of the file and a twist with a pair of pliers.

Now procure an ordinary oak walking-stick -you can buy for fourpence exactly the kind of stick which you will want. It should be rather under two inches and a-half in circumference at the spot where the hand will grasp it, and it should not have a crook by way of a handle, but a rounded and but slightly swelling knob.

First, "wrap" the end of the stick with ten or twelve turns of fine copper wire, so as to prevent it from splitting. String will answer the purpose tolerably well, but the wire is very much stronger, occupies less space, looks neater, and is not liable to be injured by wet or friction. Iron wire will not do, as it soon becomes rusty and will snap with a touch.

Near the tip, and a little below the wire binding, bore a hole completely through the stick, and another about the third of an inch below it. Eleven or twelve inches nearer the handle bore another pair of holes, the same distance apart, and exactly parallel with the first pair.

It will be advisable to balance the stick in the hand, trying it on all sides. When you find that it "sits" comfortably, bore the holes so that the framework will be perpendicular when the handle is held in the same place. Much exertion is saved by a well-balanced net.

Push the tip of one of the steel ribs through the upper hole, and the other end of it through the corresponding lower hole, allowing the ends to project about the eighth of an inch. It will then look like the capital letter P. Do the same with the second rib on the opposite side of the stick, and you will have your frame complete as far as form goes. It will then resemble the Greek letter o.

When you have made sure that the ends are perfectly even, force some fine wooden wedges into the holes by the side of the steel. A single lucifer-match will furnish all the wedges, which should be pushed in as far as possible, and then cut off level with the stick.

Now take your wire, and bind the projecting

ends firmly to the stick in X fashion. You will find that the best plan will be to begin by rolling the wire round a stick some eight or nine inches long and at least half an inch thick. It will give a "purchase," besides saving the hands from being cut by the wire, which should not be thicker than "whitey-brown" thread.

You will now have the very perfection of a framework, light, springy, and so strong that it cannot be broken, except by intentional violence. Do not be afraid that the central rod will hinder the insects from coming into the net; for, even should a butterfly or moth be struck by it, the insect will simply glance off the stick and fall into the net.

Now for the net itself.

Purchased nets are almost invariably made of green "leno." This is a double mistake, both in the colour and the material. Green is used because the dealers have a plausible theory that insects will be afraid of a white net, but will mistake the green net for foliage, and so not be alarmed at it.

Practical entomologists, however, laugh at this theory, knowing well that the colour of the net matters nothing at all, and that a scarlet, white, or black net will be quite as effective as a green one. As to frightening the insects, the very idea is absurd. In nine cases out of ten they must be frightened, whatever may be the colour of the net, and they are quite as likely to take alarm at a green net as at a white or red one.

Moreover, when the insect is captured, a coloured net will be a great hindrance in ascer taining its position and attitude, both of these points being matters of the greatest importance.

Leno is, perhaps, as bad a material as could be devised. It is very flimsy, so that it will tear with a touch. It is stiffened with "dressing," which fills up the interstices between thethreads, and causes resistance to the air. And, on account of the manner in which the threads are laid, the enclosed insect can be but imperfectly seen.

For entomological purposes there is nothing that even approaches mosquito-net. Be sure to buy the best quality, for it will be cheapest in the end. It costs about eighteenpence per yard, but as the yard is six feet wide it is really a cheap material. Even if it should be torn very little harm is done. A leno net, when torn, soon falls into tatters, whereas the net now before me has been wounded in half-a-dozen places, and is none the worse.

The large size of the meshes has a double advantage. It allows the air to pass freely, and so enables the insect-hunter to make a sharp and quick stroke. Moreover, the form and colour of the enclosed insect can be seen at a glance, so that it can be released if not wanted. As is the case with the sweep-net, already described, the net should be soaked in hot water and well rubbed before being attached to the ring.

Also, like the sweep-net, the ring-net should have a piece of broad webbing sewn round the ring, so that the net itself may be tacked to the webbing and not sewn round the metal.

Do not have your net too shallow. If the diameter of the ring be a foot, the length of the net should be at least thirty inches. At the bottom the edges should be rounded, but on no account should it end in a point, as is too often the case with purchased nets, which are made for show and not for use.

Some people are so very fastidious that they would not on any account be seen in the streets carrying a butterfly-net. I do not think much of their ardour, for, at the present time, entomology is so favourite a pursuit that a butterfly-net scarcely attracts any notice.

In my younger days, however, no one could carry a butterfly-net through the streets without being stared at as if he were a wild beast. Being an undergraduate at Oxford in 1844, I should have no more thought of carrying a butterfly-net through the High Street than of wearing a moustache, and it was absolutely necessary to find some mode of conveying the net through the streets without discovery. (To be continued.)

JACK AND JOHN:

Their Friends and their Fortunes.

BY MRS. EILOART,

Author of "Ernie Elton," ""Tom Dunstone's Troubles," "Archie Blake," etc.

CHAPER XVIII.—DICK FINDS A NURSEMAID's

SITUATION HARDER THAN HE EXPECTED.

LOSSY was as nice a baby as ever breathed,

B full of all pretty little wiles and engaging ways, possessed, too, of four of the prettiest and whitest little teeth that ever glistened in a baby's mouth. Wonderfully pretty. I could fill a page with her praises, but I doubt whether you boys would read it if I did, so we will dispense with all that, and just say that charming as Blossy was, she was not a desirable fellow-traveller for two gentlemen who knew very little indeed about babies, and disliked them as much as any two men living.

They had not gone to Cromarte, as Mr. Wade, not knowing better, had told Jenny. They had made him believe they were going to do so, in order to throw any one who meant to follow them on a false scent. Both Peter and Dick were too fond of economy to travel by any other than the third class. But as at that time you could only do so once a day, and it would be too late when they had secured Miss Blossy for the parliamentary train, they had resolved to stop at Barnsley till the next morning, and then start for London.

Barnsley was just twelve miles from Northcombe, a busy, thriving town, and Peter had a little business to settle there. They had agreed that Dick should take charge of the child while he arranged it, and that they would take up their quarters in a quiet little inn on the outskirts of the town, so as not to attract notice.

"For we're odd-lookin' nurses," said Peter, with a grin; "an' we don't want more than we can help to find out the vally o' this young lady.'

Blossy gave them very little trouble on the journey to Barnsley. She slept the first part of the way, and then woke and looked about her, seeming quite pleased with the passage through

the open air. Peter drove, so Dick had the nursing to do, and he laughed uncouthly, and snapped his fingers, and tried hard to make Blossy believe that he was an extremely pleasant, good-tempered fellow. As Blossy kept her temper, which, nice as she was, was as uncertain as that of babies in general, he was delighted with his success. "We shall get her up to Lunnun post-haste if she on'y goes on like this," he said. "I wonder, I do, that people make such a fuss about the bother o' babies. I expect it's on'y make-believe that those who have to do with 'em may get the credit for bein' a sight more clever than they really are." "We a'nt at Lunnon yet," said Peter, who had a livelier idea of the difficulties of the journey than his companion.

But they were soon in Barnsley, and once there Dick stayed at the little inn I have spoken of, while Peter went and transacted his business. Dick had engaged a room for himself and his charge, and, as

But Miss Blossy soon gave him something to do. She woke, and she screamed, and Dick took her up and handled her after a very different manner from that to which Enoch Green had accustomed her. Blossy felt the difference. Enoch was a skilful nurse, and Dick a very rough one. She roared louder than ever, and Dick was fairly puzzled.

"Nursin's harder work nor ever I took it to be," he said. "How do they gals quiet the brats? I know they've a way o' cuddlin' them up an' pattin' them on the backs. Let's see how that will do with this one."

He tried to imitate the nurses, but he did not pat Blossy's back to her satisfaction. She hustled and twisted, "wriggling," as he said, "like an eel," and screaming louder than ever. She had wonderful lungs, to be sure, that child! Dick walked up and down the room, patting Blossy harder than ever, and trying to hush her off, still in imitation of the nurses, but making a louder noise even than Blossy herself. "Hush, hush! by-a-baby bunting-you provoking little thing! dada's gone a-hunting-hush, hush!-pat, pat!-you little vixen, I'd wring your neck if it wasn't that I thought it 'ud pay better to keep you. It'll be money hardly earned whatever I get for takin' you to Lunnun. What a shame it does seem for that Peter Potts to be wantin' half o' whatever I get; he that's had nuthen to do wi' findin' the child! I hope he's right; he seems pretty certain about it."

So Peter was; he had not trusted merely to the paper, but he had made inquiries at the quay, and ascertained that a small yacht, the Nancy, had touched at Northcombe and taken in fresh vegetables and water only the day before that on which Dick had found the baby. The captain drowned had a child too, for the nurse and her mistress had come on shore and made one or two purchases, and as, two or three days after, spars and bits of wood came floating to different parts of the coast, and one of them bore the three letters, "N NY," it was conjectured that the Nancy had gone down in the storm, with all on board. Some days after several bodies were washed on shore some miles away, but they were too disfigured by their immersion in the water for recognition to be possible even if there had been any one at hand to recognise them--so that Peter had good grounds for believing that Blossy was a young lady of great expectations, and most likely the only survivor of the Nancy.

Dick went on walking up and down, and Blossy went on screaming, till at last the door was briskly opened, and the landlady entered, with her face on fire with wrath.

"Are you killing the child," she said, indignantly," that it's screaming like that? We shall have a regular crowd round the house if you don't hush it, or let me. Well, to be sure! if the gook hasn't got it upside down! Whoever saw a man holding a baby like that What was your wife thinking of, I wonder, to trust you with it?"

In fact, Blossy had so twisted and turned

was as the landlady had said-that he was holding her upside down! The woman took the child in her own arms and tried to hush it off, but Blossy was hungry, and would not be satisfied till the landlady brought her a little bread-and-milk, which had the effect of pacifying her for & time.

She was so good, indeed, that Dick thought he might venture into the tap-room with her. "They'll be crackin' their jokes; but never mind, I'll tell 'em that the mother's away, and I had to come into the town to see the child's grandmother. It's so mortal dull sittin' here, an' as that Peter won't hurry himself back, I'll just go down for a bit of a change."

So he did, and found the change not altogether a pleasant one. There were two or three men there, who laughed at him for carrying a child; but Dick gave his order, as had the men, and laid the little creature down on a settle in the corner, Blossy sucked her thumb and seemed content, Dick drank his mug of cider, heard the news, and felt as if his cares were at an end for a time. Presently he looked round and saw that the baby had disappeared, and he made such an outcry as startled every one present. "Some one's stolen it!" he cried; "stolen my baby! Some one," he added, looking suspiciously round, "that knows the worth on it, I reckon."

"The worth of a baby! Man alive! haven't we all got lots on 'em ?" was the cry from the men present.

Dick glared round, but they only laughed the more. Then he went into the shop and into the kitchen, but could see nothing of the landlady, and the lad who served as hostler and maid-of-all-work could tell him nothing of her; she must have taken the child; perhaps in some way had a suspicion of its value, and she meant to make sure of the reward! Dick was not an imaginative man, but he conjured up all kinds of probabilities now. He put on his hat and went into the town looking everywhere for his baby, and half hoping, half fearing to meet Peter Potts.

"I'm not sure that I should know the child if I saw it," said Dick. "Babbies are all so alike. It allus seems to me as if one was the spit of the other. There's a woman with a babby-why she's got one on each arm, an' she seems to manage them as if they was no trouble at all. They're too little to be either on 'em mine, though. There's another! No, it's too big,