to an end, Barker heard the
usual discussion begin. "I shall hide mine in this cleft in the rock,"
said one.

"Very well, then I will hide mine under the ferns."

"Oh," said a third, "I shall leave mine _on Barker's knee_."

You may be sure it gave Barker quite a shock to hear his own name spoken
in those mysterious regions, it frightened him, too, but before he could
stir his big, lazy body and run away,--as he meant to do,--he felt three
hard blows, bang! whack! bang! and then a heavy weight fell crash upon his
knee.

Barker roared and bellowed like a great calf, for the pain was very great,
and he was a big coward.

"Take it away! take it away!" he cried, but the only answer was peal upon
peal of mocking laughter. "Oh my poor knee, oh my poor knee, I'm lame for
life! Take away them tools! Oh my, oh my!" but the more he screamed,
the more the Buccas laughed. They laughed and laughed until they were
tired, then they vanished, and Master Barker was left to make his way home
as best he could. He did not want to tell the neighbours how he got his
stiff knee, but pretended he had had a fall; the neighbours, though,
soon found out, and pretty well he was laughed at for a long time wherever
he went.

Never again did Barker doubt the existence of the Buccas, never again did
he speak disrespectfully of them, nor could he forget the lesson he had
been taught, for to his dying day he had a stiff knee, and nothing would
cure it.

Now, if ever you hear of anyone having 'Barker's knee' you will know that
he has spoken rudely of the Buccas, and that the Buccas have paid him out.

LUTEY AND THE MERMAID.

One lovely summer evening many, many years ago, an old man named Lutey was
standing on the seashore not far from that beautiful bit of coast called
the Lizard.

On the edge of the cliff above him stood a small farm, and here he lived,
spending his time between farming, fishing, and, we must admit it,
smuggling, too, whenever he got a chance. This summer evening he had
finished his day's work early, and while waiting for his supper he
strolled along the sands a little way, to see if there was any wreckage to
be seen, for it was long since he had had any luck in that way, and he was
very much put out about it.

This evening, though, he was no luckier than he had been before, and he
was turning away, giving up his search as hopeless, when from somewhere
out seaward came a long, low, wailing cry. It was not th