ill be fun."

So Felix and Christlieb took each an arm of the doll, and off they set
in full career, through the bushes, down the brae, and on and on till
they came to a small lake, engarlanded with water-plants, which was on
their father's property, and where he sometimes shot wild-duck. Here
they came to a stand, and Felix said, "Suppose we wait here a little. I
have a gun now, you know, and perhaps I may hit a duck among the
rushes, like father."

At that moment Christlieb screamed out, "Oh! just look at my doll;
what's the matter with her?"

Indeed, that poor thing was in a miserable condition enough. Neither
Felix nor Christlieb had been paying any attention to her during their
run, and so the bushes had torn all the clothes off her back, both her
handsome legs were broken, and of the pretty waxen face there was
scarcely a trace remaining, so marred and hideous did it appear.

"Oh, my poor, beautiful doll!" wept Christlieb.

"There, you see!" cried Felix; "those are the sort of trashy things
those two stupid creatures brought and gave us. That doll of yours is
nothing more or less than a stupid, idiotic slut. Can't so much as come
for a little run with us but she must get her clothes all torn off her
back, and herself spoilt and destroyed. Give me hold of her!"

Christlieb sorrowfully complied, and could scarcely restrain a cry of
"Oh, oh!" as he chucked the doll, without more ado, into the pond.

"Never mind, dear!" Felix said, consoling his sister. "Never mind about
the wretched thing. If I can only shoot a duck, you shall have all the
beautiful wing feathers."

A rustle was heard amongst the rushes, and Felix instantly took aim
with his wooden gun. But he moved it away from his shoulder speedily,
saying--"Am I not a tremendous idiot myself?" Looking reflectively
before him for a few minutes, he continued softly--

"How can a fellow shoot without powder and shot? And have I either the
one or the other? And then, could I put powder into a wooden gun?
What's the use, after all, of the stupid, wooden thing? And the
hunting-knife! wooden, too. Can neither cut nor stab. Of course my
cousin's sword was wooden as well! That was why he couldn't draw it
when he was afraid of Sultan. I see what it all comes too. Cousin
Pump-breeks was making a fool of me with his playthings, which only
make-believe to be things, and are nothing but useless trumpery." With
which Felix shied the gun, the hunting knife, and finally