dare say."

At this moment a quack was heard, and at a distance the whole tribe were
seen coming waddling home, their feathers gleaming in green and gold,
and they themselves in high good spirits.

"Such a splendid day as we have had!" they all cried in a breath. "And
we know now how to get our own living; we can take care of ourselves in
future, so you need have no further trouble with us."

"Madam," said the Doctor, making a bow with an air which displayed his
tail-feathers to advantage, "let me congratulate you on the charming
family you have raised. A finer brood of young healthy ducks I never
saw. Give claw, my dear friend," he said, addressing the elder son. "In
our barnyard no family is more respected than that of the ducks."

And so Madam Feathertop came off glorious at last; and when after this
the ducks used to go swimming up and down the river, like so many
nabobs, among the admiring hens, Doctor Peppercorn used to look after
them and say: "Ah! I had the care of their infancy!"

And Mr. Gray Cock and his wife used to say to each other: "It was our
system of education did that!"

[Illustration: THE BALLAD OF PIPING WILL]

BY ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH

There was a lad named Piping Will
With tattered coat and poor;
He had no home to bide him in,
But roamed from door to door.

This lad had naught except a pipe
On which he used to play;
Yet never lad did laugh so free,
Nor had a look so gay.

"Nay, bide, thou merry piper-boy!"
The kindly house-dames said.
"The roads are rough, the skies are wild,
And thou dost lack for bread.

"The hills are steep, the stones unkind--
Why wilt thou always roam?
And winter turns a barren heart
To them that have no home."

Then would he smile and pipe awhile,
But would not ever stay.
How strange that he could be so poor,
Yet have a heart so gay!

And so the good folk shook their heads,
And they would turn and stare
To see him piping through the fields.
What was he doing there?

It fell about the blithe Yule-tide,
When winter winds were keen,
The Burgomaster's little maid
Slipped from the house unseen;

For she had heard that in the wood
The dear snow-children run,
And play where shadows are most cold
And where there is no sun.

But lo, the evening hurried