and demanding their lives. Remonstrances, persuasions, entreaties, promises, and reasonings, all were used by the missionaries, who endeavoured by these means to calm down those who were thirsting for their blood. Suddenly a cry was raised, "A sail! a sail!" and looking off upon the ocean, a ship was seen with sails set, bearing up for Tana. The savages fled in dismay, while the missionaries embraced the opportunity to make known their danger and their need of relief by means of signals to the captain. As the result, the whole mission party were conveyed to Samoa, and the bloodthirsty heathen of Tana were left for that time without the witnesses for that Gospel whose teachings they hated. At Aneitium, a tragical occurrence took place about the same time. Rev. J. Geddie was stationed there, and was renowned for his vigour and boldness in declaring the word of the Lord. Opposition and persecution rose up against him and his work, but nothing frightened him from his post. On one occasion, however, he was very near to losing his life by the craftiness of the heathen. The chief of a tribe dwelling at some distance inland, one day sent a message to Mr. Geddie, inviting him to come among his people and teach them the "Word of Jehovah." Mr. Geddie felt delighted at receiving this message, and made immediate preparations for visiting the tribe. He intended to start on a certain morning, but a terrible storm coming on at that hour, the visit was necessarily postponed for a time. Hearing of this, the chief sent a second time, representing his desire to trade with the missionary party, as well as to hear the Gospel, and fixing a day for the visit. Still, circumstances prevented Mr. Geddie from going on the journey, and, much against his will, he was compelled to attend to his station duties. However, he sent five of his native teachers to the tribe, conveying articles of food for barter, and with instructions to remain among the people for a few days, in order to impart information concerning the Christian religion. But this design was cruelly frustrated, for no sooner had the young men reached the heathen village, than the savages made a terrible and unlooked-for onslaught upon them. They killed one of the teachers on the spot; but the others, though wounded, managed to escape by their fleetness of foot, and reached their own village. The body of the martyred one, after having been treated with various indignities, was committed to the oven, and after being cooked, was partaken of with fiendish delight. Thus was Mr. Geddie rescued from the hands of cannibals, and permitted to labour on in his Master's cause. In 1845, a party of French missionaries left their nativé country to establish a mission in New Caledonia, in the South Seas. A terrible tale of rescue from cannibals comes to us from an explorer connected with this mission party, who was engaged by them as an interpreter, and who shipped at Sidney for the remainder of the voyage. The party called at different islands on the route, and exercising caution, escaped any unpleasant consequences. Their intercourse with the natives being of a friendly nature, they managed to mingle with them pretty freely without danger, until they reached the Solomon Islands. The party had been warned of the bloodthirsty character of the people on most of these islands; but, nothing daunted, the missionaries decided to visit them. They arrived off the island overnight, and delayed their landing, for prudential motives, until the following morning. At daybreak, the news having fled round the island that a stranger vessel was lying at anchor, large numbers of the natives came down to the shore, to await the landing of the visitors. The natives were well armed with spears, but as the pioneers were determined to explore, and see for themselves the condition of the people, the word was given to launch the boats and land the party. As they landed, the interpreter and bishop walked up to the chief, and entered into conversation. After a little parleying, the savages demanded everything which the visitors wore, and intimated by signs that if their demands were not acceded to, they would murder the mission party. Immediately, the word was given to retire to the boats. As each one retreated, the natives pressed upon him, and, unarmed as each member of the party was, it seemed impossible to reach the beach in safety. But as they went along, the chief continued to demand some articles which had excited his cupidity, and receiving continued denials, raised a spear and dealt a thrust at the bishop. This became the signal for a general attack. Each member of the party was set upon and assaulted by the spears and clubs of the the savages, save the interpreter, and he, by some sudden impulse, threw his arms round the neck of the native nearest to him, as if claiming his protection, This movement, while it probably saved his life, caused him to be taken into captivity, for the native seized hold of the interpreter so tightly, that he was compelled to stay behind against his will, while the other members of the mission, who had by this time struggled down to the water's edge, got into the boat and rowed away toward the ship. Immediately after the departure of the boats the savages started off inland, with their prisoner, until they reached a spot some miles from the sea. Here, the prisoner became the object of universal curiosity to both young and old. They permitted the interpreter to keep his clothes, which seemed a very favourable indication on the part of his captors. For food, they gave him maize and the roots of plants, mixed up into a kind of meal or cake. This food was supplied to the prisoner in abundance, but, being acquainted with their cannibal propensities, the poor fellow imagined that their sole object in feeding him up, was to fatten him for roasting and eating. This idea so interfered with his appetite, that he never ate enough to get fat, beside which, he was so harassed with deadly fear and terror, that he got really thin and weak. He was all this time imprisoned in a small hut, which he was not allowed to leave on any pretence, except under the strict guardianship of his owner, who sometimes took him on a fishing or hunting expedition into the forest. One day the savages assembled, under the command of the chief, ready armed for a predatory excursion, and, by various signs, intimated to the captive that he must go with them. They also put a spear into his hand, informing him by the same means that he must use it. Taking all the food which he had failed to eat, in his jacket pockets, he followed his masters like an obedient slave. It seemed that they were in search of somebody or something to kill, but for two or three days they were unsuccessful. After eating some roots and drinking some water, they lay down to sleep under trees, but all the time the white man was fearful that their next impulse might be to kill him, in order to make a feast. Determined to sell his life dearly, he grasped his spear firmly, and slept but little. At length, after much wandering, they sighted a single native at some distance off, and without any thought or inquiry as to who he might be, prepared to kill him. The chief took the white man's arm, and made him understand that he must spear the native. Afraid to disobey, and yet unwilling to commit so foul a murder, he went towards the native, holding up his spear, and shaking it as if in anger. The poor fellow had, however, frequently visited the hut in which the interpreter had been confined, and had repeatedly talked by signs with him. Recognising the white man, and believing him to be friendly, he came forward, dropping his spear on the ground, in token of his friendship. But while talking together, a spear whizzed past them both, which warned them of the intended danger. Rushing back, the native endeavoured to regain his spear, but before he could reach it he fell dead, thrust through by several spears, which were hurled at him. Then began the preparations for the cannibal feast. Four or five of the party commenced digging a hole with their spears, scooping out the earth as they got deeper, with their hands. When they had made a hole about four or five feet deep, they filled it with layers of large stones, dry wood, and grass. A light was struck, and the dry grass soon ignited. When the stones were sufficiently heated to cook this horrible meal, the body was placed on some of them, arranged so as form a gridiron, and covered up carefully until roasted. The savages feasted on this meal until they were gorged, when they fell asleep; meanwhile, their captive ate the roots of a tree which he pulled up at some little distance. After a sleep of several hours, the whole party, satisfied with having eaten of human meat, returned home. On the return journey, the chief ordered an attack to be made on a few lonely huts which they passed. Two women-one of them carrying a baby-ran out of the huts, but were powerless to escape from the savages. The mother of the infant was killed, along with some other women and children, and after committing these murders, the savages took up the bodies and carried them across their shoulders, like dead deer, to the place of cooking. These bodies were then cooked and feasted upon in the manner described as above. The prisoner retained the infant, wrapping it in his jacket all night, intending to leave it in the care of one of the women who had been captured, but only stunned. Not having been killed, the cannibals doubtless intended to reserve her for a future meal. She, however, made good her escape in the night; and on the white man awaking in the morning, he saw the dusky forms of many savages who had come to avenge the slaughter of their wives and children. Seeing a dreadful massacre, and feeling certain that before long he should have to witness a third cannibal feast, the poor inter preter started off, resolving to run for his life, and trust to the chance of some passing vessel. He followed the course of a brook, down to the sea, sleeping up in trees while on this journey, when compelled to take rest, and buttoning his jacket round some small branch in order to prevent a fall to the ground, when overcome with sleep. On this route he partook of no refreshment, save the water of the river; but when he got to the mouth of the stream, where it ran into the sea, he caught fish and ate them raw. These, together with a few roots and berries, formed his sole sustenance for the month or so which he spent at the coast, waiting for some passing vessel to rescue him. During this month of suspense, the fugitive made his home in the hollow trunk of a tree, only creeping out of it to catch fish or pick berries, and this, only when no savage was in sight. He made use of his shirt for a signal, having tied it to the branch of a tree, that the look-out men on board any vessel might see it. Fortunately, he was rescued by a Spanish brig at last, and safely conveyed away out of the clutches of the cannibals. After reaching Sydney, he, however, ascertained that the bishop had died of the wounds received on the occasion of the attack which led to his own unwilling captivity. The other missionary visitors soon recovered from their wounds. "THE KING'S BUSINESS." And so he moved onward in his drifting, uncertain way, across the stream at the edge of the village, up the hill until his stalwart form stood out against the sky-for Nat was strong in body though weak in mind; then he passed down on the other side to where the road entered a forest which stretched for miles away. It was here quiet and lonely, but Nat fancied this. He occasionally liked to escape from human voices and human habitations, to get away by himself and talk with the birds, the trees, and the flowers. Here in the wood the wild vagaries of his brain found full play. But on this occasion a new fancy had taken possession of him-he was on business for the King. What King, or what was the particular business, he did not precisely know, but he had derived his idea from various sermons he had heard at the village church and Sunday-school, which he had attended with scrupulous punctuality through all weathers, and although he understood but little of the proceedings, yet chance sentences had fastened themselves on his sluggish brain. "I'm on business for the King," he muttered, reaching up his great strong hand and wrenching a huge, overhanging branch from its place and speedily converting it into a walking stick. "Yes, I'm on business for the King, the King of all around here, the birds, the trees, the flowers, and the bumblebees. He sent me, he did. Parson said so, t'other Sunday. He said the King sent out His messengers to do His work. He sent out twelve on 'em once, an' they wasn't to take no money in their purse nor nothin' to eat. Guess he sent me, 'cause I hain't got no money, an' hain't had nothin' to eat all day." He strode onward, murmuring his thoughts as he went, pursued their work for a short time and were then called over until after a time he came upon a public road which ran to the other side of the mill. Just as they disappeared, a face through the wood. A placard fastened to a tree by the road-peered over the top of the board-pile from the inside, another side attracted his attention, and he paused to consider it. He followed a moment later, and presently two rough, villainouscould not read, but as his eyes were fixed upon the printed looking men came into view, and seeing they were unobserved, characters the tinkle of a cow-bell was heard down the road, sprang quickly to the ground and hastened into the forest. and presently a cow came into view, followed by the short During this time Nat was not idle. His tall form, with sturdy figure and round freckled face of Tommy Brock. long and steady stride, was hastening forward "on business Tommy was flourishing a large stick and shouting at the cow for the King." It did not occur to him what he should do in his efforts to keep her in a proper homeward direction. As when he reached Tracey's and had been supplied with food. he came up he exclaimed: At present he was "obeying orders"-and beyond that his thought did not go. It was indeed a long walk he had undertaken, and it was just at dusk that he reached his destination. The Half-way House was a lonely hostelry, situated at the intersection of two roads, with no other house in sight, and was a common stopping-place for persons passing to and from the city. Nat stepped boldly upon the broad piazza in front, and with full consciousness of his right walked unhesitatingly into the pleasant sitting-1 -room. Mrs. Tracey came forward to "Hullo, Nat! What are you doin' here ?" "I'm on business for the King," replied Nat with dignity. "On business for-who?" asked Tommy in suprise. "For the King. He sent me," said Nat again. "That's his orders there, I take it," pointing to the placard. "What is it, Tommy?" "That? Why that's only an advertisement," answered Tommy, his eyes opening wider in his astonishment. "It says, 'Go to Tracey's Half-Way House for a good meal.'" "Yes, I know'd it! I know'd it!"'exclaimed Nat exultingly. "The King said take no money nor nothin' to eat, an' He'd take care of me. He says Go,' an' I'll obey orders; and instantly his tall figure was moving swiftly down the road. With rapid steps Nat hurried forward, swinging his huge stick and talking to himself. He had taken the placard as a veritable command to go to Tracey's, and thitherward he directed his steps. It was not the first time he had been there. On previous occasions when he had passed that way he had been kindly treated by Mrs. Tracey, and perhaps that had something to do with the alacrity of his movements, and he hastened down the road till it brought him to a small stream on the bank of which stood a saw-mill. Mr. Tracey, the owner of the Half-Way House, was engaged at work here, and he turned aside to speak to him. "I'm on business for the King, and I'm goin' to your house," he announced with the dignified gravity that belonged to his royal commission. "On business for the King, and goin' to my house, eh?" answered the person addressed, a good-natured smile crossing his kindly face. "Well, I reckon that's a high honour to me. You've got a tramp afore you, though, Nat-a good seven miles." "I must obey orders," replied Nat simply. "That's right-obey orders. Well, if you do go, tell Mrs. Tracey I'll be home to-morrow night. Tell her, too, not to be uneasy about that money bein' in the house, 'cause I'll see to it when I come." "What money's that?" asked a fellow-workman as Nat turned away. "My pension. My claim was allowed last week, and I got my money-one hundred pounds-yesterday. I was foolish not to put it in the bank right off, but I didn't, and as I didn't have time to go to town yesterday I had to leave it at home. I reckon it's safe enough, though, till to-morrow night, and then-" "Hist!" interrupted his companion suddenly. "What's that?" Tracey paused to listen. "I didn't hear anything," he said. "I thought I heard someone over there," pursued the other, pointing to a large, high pile of boards a few feet distant-the boards being piled in form of a square, with a large cavity in the centre. Most likely it was rats, though." "More likely to be rats than anything else, there's so many about here," answered Tracey. Then he added jocularly "Maybe, though, it's them burglars that's been playin' mischief 'round these parts for the last week or so-maybe they're stowed away in that pile of lumber. My! if I really believed that I'd be uneasy myself, for the chaps would have heard all I said about my pension." "What burglars is that ?" inquired the other. "What burglars? Why, man, don't you read the papers? Why, only yesterday the sheriff and his deputies rode by my house on the hunt for 'em. Last Saturday night they broke into Lawyer Burke's house, in the village, and carried off about fifty pounds, and then on Sunday night they got into the railroad station, broke open the safe, and made off with about three hundred more. That's the biggest of their hauls, though they've entered several other places." The conversation was continued on this topic for a few minutes and then dropped. Neither of the men thought it worth while to investigate the cause of the noise, and they meet him. "Why, Nat, is that you ?" "Yes 'm," he answered gravely. "I was told to come here an' get a good meal. The King sent me." "The King sent you? Well, I suppose I must give you a supper then," said she. "And, by the way, Nat, did you see my husband on your way here ?" .. Yes 'm; and he said I was to tell you he'd be home to-morrow night, an' you're not to be uneasy 'bout that money. "Oh dear! I did so hope he'd come this evening," she sighed. She was indeed uneasy on account of the money in the house. She had slept but little the preceding night for thinking of it, had worried about it all through the day, and now another lonely night was before her. As she was preparing supper for her guest, another thought came to her. Could she not induce Nat to stop there for the night? His notion of wandering made it an uncertain request, and even if he remained, with his beclouded intellect, he could not be depended on in case of trouble. Still he would be company, and perhaps he might aid her—she prayed for that-if she needed help. "Nat," she said, as she poured out a glass of milk for him, won't you stay here to-night ?" "I don't know whether it be orders," he answered uncertainly. "Parson said the King sent out His messengers, an' they wasn't to take no money nor nothin' to eat, an' I don't know if it be right to stop." 'Oh, yes, it is," replied Mrs. Tracey, catching at once an idea of his thought. "I heard what the parson said, too. When the King's messenger entered a house he was to abide there—that is, to stop. Don't you remember ?" Nat considered the proposition. "Yes 'm, that His orders, I'll stop," he said. 6 "And Nat," pursued the lady, rendered eager by her success, "there's another thing the King said-you heard it at Sundayschool. He said, 'Suffer little children to come unto Me 'that is, such little children as mine there," pointing to them as they stood at her side. "And the King said, too, Whosoever shall offend one of these little oues it is better for him that a mill-stone were hanged about his neck, and he were cast into the sea.' The King doesn't wish any harm to come to His little ones, in any way—you remember that ?" "Yes 'm," replied Nat absently. "Well, then," continued Mrs. Tracey, driving the concluding nail into her argument, "if any bad, wicked men should come here to-night, and try to hurt me or these little ones that belong to the King, you would help us, wouldn't you?" She waited anxiously for the reply. Nat looked at her vaguely for a moment, and then his eyes wandered aimlessly around the room, and then back to her. Finally he said quietly: "The King sent me. I'll obey orders." How far he understood she did not know, and all her efforts could draw out no more definite reply, and with that she was obliged to be content. As the evening grew late she provided her guest with a sleeping-place, in an adjoining room, by throwing a few quilts on the floor-for Nat would sleep nowhere else-and then she lay down, without undressing, on a bed beside her children. But it was a long time before slumber visited her troubled spirit. As for Nat, no thought of worry or anxiety for the future was on his mind, and he " slept the sleep of the just" and his dreams were peaceful. But after a time those dreams became disturbed and discordant-a voice seemed to be calling to him from his King, and presently he awakened with a start. "Nat! help! Nat, the King wants you!" came in smothered tones from the other room. OUR PRIZE COMPETITION PAPERS. In an instant he sprang lightly to his feet, and grasping his HUMOROUS stick he strode forward and opened the door. A fearful struggle met his view as he entered. Two rough, evil-looking men were there-one holding Mrs. Tracey, the other the children--and the villains were evidently trying to bind and gag their victims. As Nat witnessed the scene his tall form seemed to tower yet higher, and a strange, fierce light gleamed from his eyes. I belong to the King!" he thundered. "How dare you offend His little ones ?" At this unexpected intrusion one of the burglars released his hold of Mrs. Tracey, and sprang forward with an oath to meet him. But it was in vain. The great stick was whirled in the air, and then came down with fearful force on the head of the villain, and he sank senseless to the floor. The remaining burglar hastened to his comrade's assistance, but he was like a child in the hands of a giant, and in a moment he, too, was helpless and motionless. Nat stooped and drew the two insensible forms towards him. "Now bring them ropes, and I'll hang a "-he paused and left the sentence unfinished. "But there ain't no millstones 'bout here to hang 'round necks!" he added, looking up bewildered. "Do you b'lieve a big rock would do? I must obey orders." 66 "No, I don't believe a rock would do," replied Mrs. Tracey, smiling in spite of her alarm. But they will be coming-to presently; I would just tie their hands and feet and leave them until morning." "Yes 'm, so I will. The King said tie 'em hand and foot that's His orders. They won't offend His little ones any more;" and in a few minutes Nat had them safely secured. All that night, Nat kept sleepless guard over his captives, and when morning came and help came with it, the burglars were safely lodged in the county gaol. Nat did not lack for friends after that, and, as the story spread, homes and hearts were opened to him everywhere. Our Continent. THE INTERNATIONAL SCRIPTURE ACCOUNT OF ONE OR MORE (Senior Prize Paper.) O not speak ill of the dead" is a very good saying under some circumstances in life, but as I wish to give a true and faithful account of friends long deceased, the description must be true and faithful likewise. My pet animals have not been numerous, but they made up for it in capacity and understanding. First and foremost in my memory comes Jock, the monkey. Oh, that monkey! To give an idea of his talents, I must "begin at the beginning," as we say; or at least, as near to the beginning as I can vouch for. Jock (poor fellow) was presented to me when in his infancy, by a mutual friend. I have since wondered whether that friend had previous designs and want of exercise. However, if it were so, Jock did his upon poor me, with an idea that I suffered from languor his devoted mistress in a state of perpetual motion. work well, for as long as he was able to get about, he kept Jock, like a great many human beings of the past and present, showed his talents early in life. From the moment of to him all through his life. That was not the only affection our meeting, he displayed that affection for me which clung which he conceived at the interview, for two hours afterwards, discovered him out in the garden, with one of my best handwhen Jock had disappeared for the space of ten minutes, I kerchiefs spread over his hairy pate; and a new guinea bonnet, composed of glittering beads, which I had worn that morning, was undergoing a dissecting operation at the unmerciful hands of mischievous Jock. So much for his first display of talent, but this was only an earnest of what he could do, as I afterwards became aware. Before going further in the catalogue of Jock's sins of commission, I must describe his personal appearance, as he presented when" grown-up." He was not a very large monkey, a fact of which he seemed very glad; his colour was brown, his hands long and remarkably quick in action, even for a monkey. His eyes, which were quicker than his hands, seemed always to be making fun of one and saying, "Wouldn't you DAILY PORTIONS FOR THE MONTH OF like to catch me, but you can't! Ha, ha!" He wore a little red petticoat, manufactured by myself from the best part of an old table-cover. Of this petticoat he was as proud as any savage of his beads, and would allow no one to touch it but the one by whom it was made. His ears were rather prominent, but qualified to an alarming degree for the purpose for which they were designed. I thought he was a very pretty monkey in comparison with other monkeys, but, perhaps, in this instance, love was blind, for when I ventured to express an opinion to a friend, her face assumed such a complete transformation from the beautiful to the hideous that I ventured not again. Tom's firm belief was (or so he expressed it) that Jock was some old man, who had escaped to the woods, to avoid paying taxes; but then of course his opinion goes for nothing. He had an idea that Jock could talk if it so pleased him, only he was afraid of the consequences. The most prominent features in Jock's character were mischief, mimicry, and celerity. Of the first he possessed twenty per cent. more than any other of his species; in the second, he was perfection itself; and in the third, his match was not to be found. From the first his antipathy to the cat was very manifest. His first overtures of love to her were in this wise. After the destruction of my best bonnet, I, of course, gave chase round the garden, with a view of administering correction. During our progression, I suddenly lost sight of Jock, and I supposed he had taken refuge in the summer-house. As this was not a very large place, I thought discretion was the better part of valour, and retreated indoors, found a nice book, put on my hat, and settled myself on the garden steps for an hour's quiet reading. I had been reading for about ten minutes, when I heard unmistakable sounds proceeding from the kitchen below. Down went the book; and ditto my feet as fast as they could carry me down the kitchen stairs; and this is the sight which met my eyes through the glass in the door. Under the table was pussy's milk, about half lapped; on the table was Jock, with mischief gleaming in his eyes; between Jock and the milk was poor pussy, suspended in mid-air, head downwards, while Jock was taking guardian care of her tail. As soon as puss could free her tail, Jock was rewarded for his pains by receiving some six or seven scratches, after which I need not say the experiment was never repeated. From this time those two lived in a state of civil warfare. I was greatly amused one morning with a piece of his mimicry. I had a suspicion that he was in my bedroom. I stole upstairs, and peeped through the crack, the door being open. There was Jock, as large as life (and a great deal too natural), seated on a chair in front of the dressing-table. His face was directed towards the glass, his head was covered with oil, which dripped on to the toilet-cover every time he stooped; in one hand he held a brush, in the other a comb. Both were used simultaneously, and the effect was most ludicrous. He looked as if some one had been trying the experiment of preserving monkeys in oil. He next put a collar (upside down) round his neck, but in trying to adjust it a pin ran into his chin. I shall never forget the scene which followed. Out of the bedroom rushed Jock, shrieking and howling with pain, downstairs into the breakfast parlour, where all the family, minus myself, were gathered. They were all so struck at the figure he made, that they could do nothing but laugh; and Tom sat down in a chair, held his sides, and laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks in round beads. Jock never entered my bedroom again, for I placed an electric battery there. It was only a small one, but I had once tried it weak upon him, and he would never afterwards enter a room where it was. That was almost the last of Jock's exploits, for he unfortunately caught a chill, from the effects of which he never recovered. Tom wrote a suitable epitaph, and sent it to me by post in a dainty envelope. Poor old Jock! Thy memory haunts me still. (Junior Prize.) some HAT a peculiar creature for a pet! At the time Jackie (such was his name) entered our little home-circle, I was then a wee little child, not much more than five years old, but I remember him as well as if I had seen him yesterday. Our Jackie was an amiable, good-tempered little fellow, which quickly led him to become mine and my sisters' chief play-fellow. He would let us carry him about all over the garden in our aprons, without entertaining the slightest idea of pricking us with his long-looking pins. On the other hand, he was our dog's chief enemy; directly he saw him coming, Mr. Doggie would run as quick as his legs would allow him to some high secluded spot. Jackie's sleeping apartment was an old cupboard, and well he knew what time he ought to come out. Scratch, scratch went his nails against the door till he was let out, and then, round and round the table he would run, more like a circushorse than anything else. I really think, if anyone strange had seen him at that crisis, it certainly would have been a difficult thing for them to have pronounced him compos mentis or not. His favourite resort was to go and lie down under the shade of a large gooseberry bush; there he would gradually close his little black bead-like eyes, and submit to gentle sleep, or, as the saying is, "have forty winks." When Jack drove the blackbeetles upstairs in the nursery, of course there he was at once transferred, and as soon as my little sister alighted from her bed, away he would run and chase her little feet. Poor little thing! how many times she used to run away crying to mamma, saying that master Jackie had been enjoying himself at her expense, by trying to prick her toes. Poor, harmless, innocent Jackie; I dare say he often wondered what harm there could possibly be in having a game at "Touch" with his mistress' tiny toes, or the dog's either-what harm, indeed? His greatest horror would be to have to stop in the nursery all day, playing the monotonous game of catching beetles. It would be all right if he had some one with him to praise him when he did catch one, but to be by himself he disliked more than anything else; so you may be sure, if we went out of the room, and left the door the least little bit open, he (Jack) would, with the aid of his prickles, be enabled to open it wide enough for his little round body to pass through. How often, while we were sitting around the breakfast-table, have we not heard the truant Jack gradually rolling down, stair by stair, till he reached the hall, and if Fido was there, he would indulge in a run after his feet, and, after he thought he had teazed Fido enough, he would continue bis model way of rolling till he reached the parlour, and then in he would march with such a dignified air, as much as to say, "So you see I'm here," and then he would wait till he got his breakfast. One day we all happened to be upstairs, and while mamma was talking to us about something or other, we suddenly heard the most unearthly noises, more like (if like anything at all) the braying of a donkey. We all looked at each other, with "Whatever is that?" plainly written on each one's face. The noise continued in still louder and louder yells; it was clear some one must go and see what it was; so mamma, fol. lowed by the servant, went. After going in one door and out of another, with fruitless search, mamma at last turned to the kitchen, and lo! betwixt the fender and the wall, was master Jackie squeezed up, and still howling for assistance. And after setting him free, and each of us saying he must be a peculiar hedgehog to make all that noise, we began to think how he managed to get in such a laughable posi tion. At last we attributed it to this, to wit: a beetle must have been running on the hearth, and master Jack, or John, spying him out, thought he would have him, so he tried to get over the fender, but that being too high for him, he discovered a little space between the fender and the wall, and thinking it was large enough to allow him to pass through, he must have tried, and when he got half through he found he could go no farther, so of course he had nothing else to do but to cry for assistance, which he accordingly did. I dare say, when the beetle saw his enemy in such a position, he was able then to smile (if he could), and think that Jackie had made too sure of his feast. I don't think Jack forgot his narrow escape in a hurry, poor fellow; it really was those terrific yells that saved him, albeit they frightened us a little, but we would sooner hear those than find our pet a lifeless corpse. I must own Jack was, I think, rather a marvel of a hedgehog, for he certainly was peculiarly tame with us, and I have heard they are generally so timid and shy of people, and roll themselves up the minute they approach them. It was not so with Jack, for as long as a stranger did not come near him, he rarely ever rolled himself up, except when danger warned him. One day Jack was poking his little sharp nose about some afterwards we found he had returned, and as we thought, feigntrees, at the end of our garden, and in about two minutes ing pain or distress, but when, looking at his feet, which he had for a few seconds been vainly try to make us look at, we found it to be all too true, for there were little red bead-like drops slowly trickling on to the gravel, and leaving little spots, as though someone bad had a bottle of claret in the garden, which leaked from the cork or any little hole elsewhere. After tying a piece of rag round it, he pretended it hurt him very much, and looked up at us with a face as sombre as a judge, as much as to say, "Don't you pity me?" or, "Aren't you sorry I'm hurt?" when all the while it was only a mere scratch, caused by some sharp stone or piece of tree. Ah! vain, foolish Jack, did you think you could cheat us so easily? You little knew that none of us at that moment felt disposed to spoil and flatter such a meddlesome Jackie. we had him, many that I can scarcely remember, but how I Oh, the many funny tricks Jackie played in the short time should like to see them repeated just for once; but it was poor Jack's lot not to be with us for long, for, after enjoying three to rest under a sweet-william, near the end of the garden, and or four months of his pretty and laughable ways, he was laid well I remember my little sister running up to her nurse on his funeral day, and lisping out, "Aggie, Aggie" (Agnes)! 'pease dib me a piece of rag to wrap Jackie up in." One thing the beetles made their exit to some other place of abode, and we all remember, and that is, that it was owing to Jack that didn't trouble us with their society for some time. 66 ALEIDA VAN DER MEULEN (13). |