te carried away by the excitement of the occasion, he cried out,
valiantly:

"You may have Dacob for ze Dabberwock."

One by one all the children's small possessions lay before the jaws of
the Jabberwock.

"Oh, Eunice! children! let's have a fire, and burn up all these
sacrifices to the Jabberwock. Think what a lovely thing he'd think that
is! Idols always love to have scenes of devastination and ruin all
about."

"I'm afraid that wouldn't be safe," said Eunice, hesitating. "Would
auntie like it?"

"Oh, she wouldn't care. What harm? Nothing could get on fire out here on
the sands, could there? Of course, we wouldn't if it was near the house
anywhere. I'll go and get the matches," and off she darted like a flash.

"Oh, are we going to have a fire, and burn up the shrime?" cried Zaidee.
"Goody! goody! what fun! they're going to burn up the shrime!"

Cricket flew back with a match-box in her hand.

"Now, get lots of dry seaweed, children," she ordered, "and we'll heap
it around the pile, and tuck it under the pile of sacrifices, so they'll
burn better. Oh, won't that make a blaze!" and Cricket danced about in
anticipation. "There, Jabberwock! I hope you'll be 'tentified,' as
Zaidee says. Stand back, children. Come, Eunice, and we'll march up
singing, and lay our offering of a lighted match down before him," and
Cricket, chanting another verse of the "Jabberwock," pranced up and
struck a match.

The dry seaweed was instantly aflame, curling and leaping like a live
thing, around the pile of stone. The children, dancing around and
clapping their hands, screamed in ecstasy at the sight.

"Bring more seaweed," called Cricket, piling on all she had, to keep up
the darting flames. The fire went springing up, licking the white bones
of the Jabberwock. In their excitement the younger children scarcely
noticed that their treasures were actually burning up, also, till
Kenneth suddenly caught sight of his "Dacob," writhing, and curling, and
jumping about in the most uncanny way, as if in mortal agony. The poor
baby darted forward to rescue it.

"It's hurted Dacob! He's all wiggly!" he cried, and he tried to snatch
his best beloved doll from the flames. Eunice caught him back.

"Don't touch, baby. It will burn you. Jacob can't feel it, and I'll buy
you another."

"He _does_ feel it. It's hurted him," cried Kenneth, struggling to get
away. With the sudden spring he made, Eunice lost hold of him, and he
made a snatch at