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"Has anybody been rotting you?" Silence. John repeated the question. Still silence. Then John added "You know, Esmé, that I shall stick to you till I find out what's up; so you may as well save time by telling me at once." "It's Beaumont-Greene," faltered Fluff. "That fat beast! What's he done?" "He hasn't done much yet." "Tell everything!"

Old Webster's voice has been hushed in death, but his soul lives in the hearts of our boys. There's hardly one of us who hasn't repeated at school his immortal words. They came back to me with thrilling power the day I read of that shot. They are ringing in my soul to-day "

You have treated her like something between a doll and a child. Philippa is as good and sweet as any woman who ever lived, but hasn't it ever occurred to you that women are rather mysterious beings? They may sometimes do, out of a furious sense of being wrongly treated, out of a sort of aggravated pique, what they would never do for any other reason. If you must go, come back to-night, Henry.

Three dollars and fifteen cents his bill was. Never thinks, when he's buying anything in the way of shirts or ties, of getting less than half a dozen at a time s'pose he hasn't found out you can buy them any other way. And his laundry bills guess he about runs the laundry. And just yesterday he was telling me in the most off-hand way that he would pay five dollars a week to a hired girl.

"O, poor sheep, poor sheep," she said, "I'll surely do that," and she laid down the bag, and sheared the sheep. On she went till she met the goat, who said: "O, change my tether! Change my tether! for it hasn't been changed these seven years." "O, poor goat, poor goat," she said, "I'll surely do that," and she laid down the bag, and changed the goat's tether.

"Why don't you write a story, Percy?" said his mother to him next morning at breakfast. "Plenty of quill-driving at Somerset-House, mother. I prefer something else in the holidays." "But I don't like to see you showing to disadvantage, Percy," said his uncle kindly. "Why don't you try?" "The doctor-fellow hasn't read one yet. And I don't think he will." "Have patience. I think he will."

"I guess it doesn't matter much what I want," she said stonily. "At any rate, it hasn't seemed that way lately. You don't care, of course. Oh, no! Harriet Warren is all you care about. Well, I wish you joy of her." Jerome looked puzzled, or pretended to. In reality he was hugging himself with delight.

Perhaps Alb's heart has been caught in the rebound; but, lest it hasn't, and he undertakes to cut me out with Nell, it is necessary that I lose no time in using my best wiles with her. While Phyllis was hanging in the balance, she was as desirable as a rosy apple just out of reach; but now that she is smugly satisfied to be in the hands of another her ethereal charm is fled.

'When? when? she persisted. 'On Thursday? The cow is in calf, you know, and she hasn't seemed at all well these last two days. You are a doctor, and you ought to be able to give her something to do her good. Abbe Mouret, who had calmly remained there, could not restrain a slight laugh. The doctor gaily got into his gig and exclaimed: 'All right, my dear, I will attend to your cow.

Suddenly from the wharf sounded the approaching footsteps of a running man. He crossed the gangway and raced up the ladder to the captain's cabin. The others sprang to their feet as the door opened and Benson appeared. "He hasn't come!" he cried excitedly. "I watched at the station and he didn't get out!" Consternation showed on every face, and Beamish swore bitterly.