rt to develop aviation.

Soon, we went in to dinner, and such a dinner! Truly, nothing is too
good for an aviator at "Suzanne's," and they give of their best to these
wandering strangers. They do not ask your name, they call every one
_Monsieur_, but before you leave you sign the book and they all crowd
around to look, without saying anything. Your name means nothing yet,
but a year from now, perhaps, who can tell? In the first pages are
names that have been bywords for years and some that are famous the
world over.

After dinner, Suzanne slipped away, presently to reappear with a special
bottle and glasses. I felt sure this was part of the entertainment
afforded all their winged visitors, for they went about it in a
practised manner; each was familiar with his or her part, but to me it
was all delightfully new.

Our glasses were filled, and Suzanne raised hers up first. Without a
word, she looked around the circle. Her eyes met them all, then rested
with madame. She had not said a word; it was "papa" who proposed my
health, and as the bottoms went up, Suzanne and madame both had a
struggle to repress a tear. They were drinking my health, but their
thoughts were far away, and in my heart I was wishing that happiness
might again come to them. Suzanne certainly deserves it.

When I returned to school, they asked, "Did you stop at 'Suzanne's'?"
And now to the others, just ready to make the voyage, I always say, "Be
sure to stop at 'Suzanne's'."

GREAYER CLOVER.

THE MAKING OF A MAN

I

Marmaduke, otherwise Doggie, Trevor owned a pleasant home set on fifteen
acres of ground. He had an income of three thousand pounds a year. Old
Peddle, the butler, and his wife, the housekeeper, saved him from
domestic cares. He led a well-regulated life. His meals, his toilet, his
music, his wall-papers, his drawing and embroidery, his sweet peas, his
chrysanthemums, his postage stamps, and his social engagements filled
the hours not claimed by slumber.

In the town of Durdlebury, Doggie Trevor began to feel appreciated. He
could play the piano, the harp, the viola, the flute, and the
clarionette, and sing a mild tenor. Besides music, Doggie had other
accomplishments. He could choose the exact shade of silk for a
drawing-room sofa cushion, and he had an excellent gift for the
selection of wedding-presents. All in all, Marmaduke Trevor was a young
gentleman of exquisite taste.

After breakfast on a certain July morning,