A few small animals, the squirrel, field mouse, and dormouse, are store-keepers by nature. The larder is placed at a convenient distance from the nest in which these little animals sleep, and if forgotten, or accidentally left unused, the nuts, seeds, &c., often taken root and grow. Many a spreading chestnut, st.u.r.dy oak, and shady beech, to say nothing of hazel copse, owes life to these thrifty little folk, and thus the tiny woodlanders give back to nature a thousandfold more than they take. More than a bushel of raw potatoes was once found laid up by a water-rat in his winter cupboard, underground.

It is not every squirrel, however, that lays up a winter store. It seems that if that prudent little animal sees his way to a fair supply of food, or lives where human beings will provide victuals, he takes no such trouble. He is, at any rate, a good judge of nuts. A gardener who liked ripe filberts, and was looking forward to a fine crop in his plantation, found out that a squirrel in the neighbourhood liked them too, and knew how to 'sample' them better than himself. One day the master of the filbert-trees came to his wife with a happy air. 'I have done the squirrel this time, at all events,' said he; 'for I found a heap of filberts he had put together, all ready to carry off, little by little, and now when he returns he will find them gone.' Not a bit of it! Every nut was a bad one, which the knowing little rascal had tossed away in disgust, while he picked out all the good ones to eat or take home!

EDITH CARRINGTON.

A SHORT CONVERSATION.

The celebrated physician, Dr. Abernethy, was famous for the brevity and bluntness of his answers; he never used a word more than was necessary.

One day a lady who knew his peculiarity came to him and held out her finger without a word.

'Cut?' asked the doctor.

'Bite,' answered the patient.

'Dog?'

'Parrot.'

'Go home and poultice,' said Abernethy.

The next day the finger was again shown.

'Better?' was the doctor's question.

'Worse.'

'Poultice again.'

Lastly, when the finger was at length cured, the doctor even went so far as to compliment his patient.

'Better?' he asked.

'Quite well.'

'Good. You are the most sensible woman I ever met. Good-day.'

WHAT INSECTS LOVE.

'I love,' said a Beetle, 'The b.u.t.tercups all.'

'And I,' quoth a Fly, 'Like the Daisies small.'

But a Humble Bee Said, 'As for me, My love is true To the Cornflowers blue, And Violets hid by a moss-grown wall.'

'All flowers I adore,'

Laughed a b.u.t.terfly; And murmured a Wasp, 'Red Heather, say I.'

Then a grey Moth said, 'When you're all in bed, I have the bliss Of the Woodbine's kiss; She waits for me when the day doth die.'

AFLOAT ON THE DOGGER BANK.

A Story of Adventure on the North Sea and in China.

(_Continued from page 335._)

CHAPTER XVI.

After strolling some distance, the three travellers discovered the ruins of an old brick building. They entered it, and found that there were no signs of its being used by any one.

'The first thing to do is to have something to eat,' said Charlie.

He took from his pocket some of the food which the missionaries had given them. Fred and Ping w.a.n.g followed his example, but in the middle of their meal Charlie startled them by declaring that their plan for getting him a pigtail was not worth carrying out.

'What is the good of my having a pigtail?' he asked. 'I haven't a skull-cap, and it can't be sewn to my "beehive."'

'I will lend you my skull-cap,' Ping w.a.n.g said.

'Thank you,' Charlie said. 'But how are we going to sew the pigtail to the cap?'

'I have a pin,' Fred replied. 'We must use that for a needle; and as for thread we must pull some out of our clothing. That can easily be managed.'

As he was speaking, he rummaged about the inside of his coat, and succeeded at last in pulling out about a yard of blue cotton. Then they sat down on portions of the ruin which had fallen in, and prepared to wait until it was dark enough to carry out their unpleasant but necessary task.

Three holes in the wall commanded a view of the surrounding country, and they were satisfied that there was no one near them at present. For nearly an hour they chatted quietly. But, when Charlie peeped out again, he started back with a little cry of surprise.

'Hallo!' he said, 'here comes the old woman who stole my pigtail.'

Fred and Ping w.a.n.g sprang to their feet, and saw the cart in which they had ridden coming slowly along the road.

'I say, I should like to recover my pigtail,' said Charlie. 'Let us run out and take it from her.'

'No, no,' Ping w.a.n.g protested. 'While we were struggling to get hold of it some one would be sure to see us. There's a man coming along now.'

The occupants of the cart began to speak to the man some moments before he met them. After a time the woman produced Charlie's pigtail, and handed it to the man to look at. For a few moments he examined it carefully, and apparently he came to the conclusion that he had as much right to it as the woman, for suddenly he rushed off with it. The cart-owner shouted to him to come back; his wife shuffled out of the cart and hobbled a yard or two after the thief, but soon realised that she would not be able to catch him. The Pages and Ping w.a.n.g thoroughly enjoyed the scene.

'The old lady does not appear to be in a hurry to go,' Charlie remarked.

'Hallo! she's coming over to look at the heads.'

But when the woman had hobbled to the nearest pole, she contented herself with looking up at its grim burden, and then began to hobble back towards her cart. But, before she had gone five yards, she noticed the ruin in which the Pages and Ping w.a.n.g were hiding. She stood still and gazed at it.