"I will never, never forget you, for you are the loveliest lady I ever saw--except mamma."

She laughed a pleased laugh, like a child, then took a ring from her hand and put it on one of Arthur's fingers. Her hand was so slender it fitted his chubby little hand very well.

"Keep this," she said, "and by and by give it to some lady good and true, like mamma."

"Will you be punished?" he said, keeping her hand. She laughed again, with a proud, daring toss of her dainty head, and rode away.

Arthur watched her out of sight, and then turned towards home. Mrs.

Heath was still keeping her lonely watch, when the latch of the outer door was softly lifted--n.o.body had the heart to take in the string with Arty outside--the inner door swung noiselessly back, and the blithe voice said, "Mamma! mamma! here I am, and I didn't tell."

All that day, and the next, and the next, the Heath household were in momentary expectation of the coming of the red coats to search for the spy. Dorothy and Arthur, and sometimes Abram, did picket duty to give seasonable warning of their approach. But they never came. In a few days news was brought that the British forces, on the very morning after Arthur's return, had made a rapid retreat before an advance of the Federal troops, and never again was a red coat seen in Hartland.

The spy got well in great peace and comfort under Basha's nursing, and went back again to do service in the Continental army, and Dotty used to say, "You did learn, didn't you, Arty, how a person, even a little boy, can be a hero without fighting, just as mamma said?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: Teddy the Teazer, A Moral Story with a Velocipede Attachment, by M.E.B.]

TEDDY THE TEAZER

A MORAL STORY WITH A VELOCIPEDE ATTACHMENT

He wanted a velocipede, And shook his saucy head; He thought of it in daytime, He dreamed of it in bed, He begged for it at morning, He cried for it at noon, And even in the evening He sang the same old tune.

He wanted a velocipede!

It was no use to say He was too small to manage it, Or it might run away, Or crack his little occiput, Or break his little leg-- It made no bit of difference, He'd beg, and beg, and beg.

He wanted a velocipede, A big one with a gong To startle all the people, As they saw him speed along; A big one, with a cushion, And painted red and black, To make the others jealous And clear them off the track.

He wanted a velocipede, The largest ever built, Though he was only five years old And wore a little kilt, And hair in curls a-waving, And sashes by his side, And collars wide as cart-wheels, Which hurt his manly pride!

He wanted a velocipede With springs of burnished steel; He knew the way to work it-- The treadle for the wheel, The brake to turn and twist it, The crank to make it stop, My! hadn't he been riding For days, with Jimmy Top?

He wanted a velocipede!

Why, he was just as tall As six-year-old Tom Tucker, Who wasn't very small!

And feel his muscle, will you?

And tell him, if you dare, That he's the sort of fellow To get a fall, or scare?

They got him a velocipede; I really do not know How they could ever do it, But then, he teased them so, And so abused their patience, And dulled their nerves of right, That they just lost their senses And brought it home one night.

They bought him a velocipede-- O woe the day and hour!

When proudly seated on it, In pomp of pride and power, His foot upon the treadle, With motion staid and slow He turned upon his axle, And made the big thing go.

Alas, for the velocipede!

The way ran down a hill-- The whirling wheels went faster, And fast, and faster still, Until, like flash of rocket, Or shooting star at night, They crossed the dim horizon And rattled out of sight.

So vanished the velocipede, With him who rode thereon; And no one, since that dreadful day, Has found out where 'tis gone!

Except a floating rumor Which some stray wind doth blow.

When the long nights of winter Are white with frost and snow, Of a small fleeting shadow, That seems to run astray Upon a pair of flying wheels, Along the Milky Way.

And this they think is Teddy!

Doomed for all time to speed-- A wretched little phantom boy, On a velocipede!

M.E.B.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

JOJO'S PEt.i.tION.

Golden-haired Jojo, at his mother's knee, Nestles each night his baby prayer to say: "Bless papa and mamma! make Ned and me Good little boys!" he has been taught to pray.

Grandmamma was very sick one weary day, And Jojo shared with us our anxious care; So the dear child, when he knelt down to pray, Seemed to think Grandma must be in his prayer.

And sure the dear Lord did not fail to hear Sharer alike of sorrows and of joys-- When he said, "Bless papa and my mamma dear, And make me an' Gran'ma an' Neddy good boys!"

RUTH HALL.