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“Just see this beautiful color I have made, Mother,” exclaimed John, exhibiting a muddy yellow mixture as the result of his efforts. Mother did not seem much impressed with the new yellow color.,

May live to repent it at leisure,

If he only had something to give her—he himself. Of course Mother would find something, but he would like to, too. He hadn’t a cent in his bank. What few cents he had saved had all been poked out long since, and he hadn’t anything else either. Well, yes, he had that fine new cake of India ink Father had just given him; but Aunt Grenertsen surely did not draw with India ink.,

When Hippolitus reached Naples, the marquis was yet living, but expired a few days after his arrival, leaving the count heir to the small possessions which remained from the extravagance of their ancestors.

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“Meet Feather-in-the-Wind by rock crusher to-night,” he whispered swiftly, but cautiously.,

As he swam nearer to the object which was swirling around in the water, it constantly eluded his grasp, but he saw that it was Jerry. It was as if the river was playing tag with him, snatching the thing he wanted out of his reach. Reason told him that Jerry was dead. What was the use of his trying to keep up this endeavor when it was all so useless? But something kept him striving, held him to his aim. He couldn’t give up. With a last despairing lunge, he shot into the eddy and caught his comrade’s shoulder. With infinite pains he swam with his prize to the bank. Safely there, he had only strength to pull it halfway out of the water.,

“I catch him. Not catch any other—Mexican.” The way the Indian said the last word showed the contempt he felt for the boy who had sold out his friends.,

“Well, fellows, what’d you do with yourselves while I was away? Must have been pretty tiresome up at the Canyon, wasn’t it?” It was Mr. Whitney talking. He had told them that his trip to Washington had been a great success. They had sent for him to put him in charge of finishing up the big Rio Grande project.