, good Archie; now is Master Sandy's snapdragon but a false beast
withal, and his lucky raisin is but an evil fruit that pays not for the
plucking."

And wise old Archie only wagged his head and answered, "Odd zooks,
Cousin Charlie, Christmas raisins are not the only fruit that burns
the fingers in the plucking, and mayhap you too may live to know that a
mettlesome horse never stumbleth but when he is reined."

Poor "Cousin Charlie" did not then understand the full meaning of the
wise old jester's words, but he did live to learn their full intent.
For when, in after years, his people sought to curb his tyrannies with
a revolt that ended only with his death upon the scaffold, outside this
very banqueting house at Whitehall, Charles Stuart learned all too late
that a "mettlesome horse" needed sometimes to be "reined," and heard,
too late as well, the stern declaration of the Commons of England that
"no chief officer might presume for the future to contrive the enslaving
and destruction of the nation with impunity."

But though many a merry and many a happy day had the young Prince
Charles before the dark tragedy of his sad and sorry manhood, he
lost all faith in lucky raisins. Not for three years did Sir Walter
Raleigh--whom both the Princes secretly admired--obtain release from the
Tower, and ere three more years were past his head fell as a forfeit
to the stern demands of Spain. And Prince Charles often declared that
naught indeed could come from meddling with luck saving burnt fingers,
"even," he said, "as came to me that profitless night when I sought a
boon for snatching the lucky raisin from good Master Sandy's Christmas
snapdragon."

XXXII. A CHRISTMAS FAIRY*

* Reprinted with the permission of the Henry Altemus Company.

JOHN STRANGE WINTER

It was getting very near to Christmas time, and all the boys at Miss
Ware's school were talking about going home for the holidays.

"I shall go to the Christmas festival," said Bertie Fellows, "and my
mother will have a party, and my Aunt will give another. Oh! I shall
have a splendid time at home."

"My Uncle Bob is going to give me a pair of skates," remarked Harry
Wadham.

"My father is going to give me a bicycle," put in George Alderson.

"Will you bring it back to school with you?" asked Harry.

"Oh! yes, if Miss Ware doesn't say no."

"Well, Tom," cried Bertie, "where are you going to spend your holidays?"

"I am going to stay here," answered Tom i