es less than that formed by a burning taper or given off
by one pair of lungs.

A CORNER IN ALLIGATORS.

by GEORGE ETHELBERT WALSH.

"'Gator hides worth three dollars, and big ones four. That's our game,
Jed, and we'll make enough in 'gator hunting to get that pony."

"You bet, for there's plenty of 'em down in Loon Lake--big ones, too."

"We'll have a regular corner in 'em. Come, let's get off."

The two young Southern hunters felt as if they had already captured a
small fortune, and Stam--short for Stamford--made a rush for the house.

"Where's my gun? It's never in its place. Mother," raising his voice, "I
can't find my gun anywhere. It's so provoking! Have you taken it?"

"And my game-bag is gone," echoed Jed, in an irritable voice. "We're in
such a hurry, too."

"It's money out of pocket standing here looking for these plaguey
things."

"Well, boys," replied Mrs. Fellows, appearing on the scene, "you have no
one to blame but yourself. Nobody has touched your things, and they are
just where you left them."

"Where is that?"

"You ought not to be told. You should be made to look for them."

"Oh, please tell us, mother, for we're in such a hurry."

"'Gator skins are selling high now," added Stam, opening his eyes, "and
we know where we can get some big ones."

"That's no reason why you shouldn't be made to find your things. You
must be cured of your careless habits in some way. This is a good time
to begin."

"Oh, don't lecture us now, mother. Do it when we come back."

"Please tell us where we can find the gun and game-bag," pleaded Jed,
putting an arm around his mother's waist.

Mrs. Fellows could not resist this appeal, and she directed the boys to
the wood-shed, where they found the desired gun and game-bag standing
near a pile of wood. The boys had left them there two days before after
returning from a hunt, and the gun was somewhat the worse for rust and
exposure.

Down by Loon Lake the great saurians were basking themselves in the hot
sun, and the appearance of the boys among them made a slight disturbance
along the edges of the water.

"These are only small ones," whispered Jed, with contempt. "We want some
big four-dollar hides. Snag Creek's the place for them. The big fellows
always hang out there."

The young hunters paddled their small skiff rapidly around the edge of
the clear-water lake, and then shoved her gently up a narrow, muddy
creek.

Enor