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"No one is stupid, who believes himself to be wanting in intelligence, it is the fool who is not aware of being without it." "Eat, Beauty," said the monster to her, "and try to find pleasure in your own house; for everything here belongs to you. I should be very sorry if you were unhappy." "You are everything that is kind," said Beauty. "I assure you that your goodness of heart makes me happy; when I think of that, you no longer appear so ugly to me." "Ah, yes!" replied the Beast, "I have a kind heart, but for all that I am a monster." "Many men are more monsters than you," said Beauty; "and I care more for you with your countenance, than for those who with their human face hide a false, corrupt, and ungrateful heart." "If I had sufficient wit," responded the Beast, "I would make you a pretty answer in return for your words; but I am too stupid for that, and all I can say is, that I am very grateful to you.",

This boat that he was making was going to be a fine one—Johnny Blossom held it out and peered sharply at it, first lengthwise, then sidewise—the finest boat any one had ever whittled. Every one who saw it would say, “Who made that beautiful, graceful boat?” Well, here was the boy who could do it!,

MARIA DE MAZZINI.,

The Frog was a year and four days climbing up the ten thousand steps which lead from the dark country, in which she had left the Queen, up into the world; it took her another year to prepare her equipage, for she had too much pride to allow herself to appear at the Court like a poor, common frog from the marshes. She had a little sedan-chair made, large enough to hold two eggs comfortably; it was covered on the outside with tortoise-shell, and lined with lizard-skin; then she chose fifty maids of honour, these were the little green frogs which hop about the meadows; each was mounted on a snail, furnished with a light saddle, and rode in style with the leg thrown over the saddle-bow; several water-rats, dressed as pages, ran before the snails, as her body-guard; in short, nothing so pretty had ever been seen before, and to crown it all, her cap of crimson roses, always fresh and in full bloom, suited her in the most admirable manner. She was a bit of a coquette in her way, so she felt obliged to add a little rouge and a few patches; some said that she was painted as were many ladies of that country, but inquiries into the matter proved that this report had only been spread by her enemies.

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Then he would make—h’m—seven baskets of pretty colored paper and fill them with peppermint drops. Everybody liked peppermint drops.,

Oh! there it hung by the boiler closet. But what a forlorn, miserable thing! He had not remembered that it was so worn out. Why, it scarcely held together! It was almost a disgrace to have such shabby fishing tackle, especially now when William Holm had that brand-new pole and Philip Krag was going to get one tomorrow. No, this old thing would not do. He positively needed a new outfit, and that meant that he simply must have some money.,

A plan had come to him in a flash. Whitney was needed and needed in a hurry. He was on the other side of the river valley at the head of the spillway. The opposite cableway tower over there was near this spot—if the buckets could go over, couldn’t he? He’d try anyway!,

“You got wet then?”