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The present for Father was an easy matter. The ruler that Johnny had just finished in the sloyd class was exactly the thing; and Mother should have the knife box. Carve their names nicely on the things, and those two presents would be ready.,

For fully four days Johnny Blossom did not show himself inside of Aunt Grenertsen’s green-painted garden fence; but on the fifth day he thought it would be interesting after all to see whether the apples still hung on the tree. It seemed an age since he had looked at them, and it would be disappointing enough if they had been gathered.,

When the marchioness learned the fate of Hippolitus, the resentment of jealous passion yielded to emotions of pity. Revenge was satisfied, and she could now lament the sufferings of a youth whose personal charms had touched her heart as much as his virtues had disappointed her hopes. Still true to passion, and inaccessible to reason, she poured upon the defenceless Julia her anger for that calamity of which she herself was the unwilling cause. By a dextrous adaptation of her powers, she had worked upon the passions of the marquis so as to render him relentless in the pursuit of ambitious purposes, and insatiable in revenging his disappointment. But the effects of her artifices exceeded her intention in exerting them; and when she meant only to sacrifice a rival to her love, she found she had given up its object to revenge.,

Kingthorpe. Oh! he should like less than ever to go there now. Never, never in the world would he enter that grand place again! Miss Melling and Carlstrom might have it all to themselves, for anything he cared.

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Light-hearted now, Johnny Blossom ran through the garden, fastening the gate carefully, while at the window an old face peered out from among the plants, through tear-misted spectacles. Then Aunt Grenertsen took the stamp and pasted it on the window pane nearest where she sat.,

'Soon after my noviciation, I had the misfortune to lose my dear father. In the tranquillity of this monastery, however, in the soothing kindness of my companions, and in devotional exercises, my sorrows found relief, and the sting of grief was blunted. My repose was of short continuance. A circumstance occurred that renewed the misery, which, can now never quit me but in the grave, to which I look with no fearful apprehension, but as a refuge from calamity, trusting that the power who has seen good to afflict me, will pardon the imperfectness of my devotion, and the too frequent wandering of my thoughts to the object once so dear to me.',

Oh, pshaw! It was raining. Johnny Blossom turned a scowling face toward the window. Just what one might expect—to have it rain the very first day of vacation! It always did, always. Funny kind of rain, anyhow—coming down in a regular slant. Perfectly horrid. He had planned to do so much today—be “boatman,” for instance.,

To say which of the twain is master.