been searching all over the house, up stairs and
down stairs, in vain. Not a garret or a closet but has been ransacked,
and nobody can guess what has become of him!"

"Did you look up the chimney, Mrs. Crabtree?" asked Major Graham,
laughing to see how excited she looked.

"Indeed, Sir! it is no joke," answered Mrs. Crabtree, sulkily; "I am
almost afraid Master Harry has been burned in the fire! The last time
Betty saw him, he was throwing a jug of water into the flames, and no
one has ever seen or heard of him since! There is a great many ashes and
cinders lying about the room, and----"

"Do you think, in sober seriousness, Mrs. Crabtree, that Harry would
melt away like a wax doll, without asking any body to extinguish him?"
said Major Graham, smiling. "No! no! little boys are not quite so easily
disposed of. I shall find Harry in less than five minutes, if he is
above ground."

But uncle David was quite mistaken in expecting to discover Harry so
easily, for he searched and searched in vain. He looked into every
possible or impossible place--the library, the kitchen, the garrets, the
laundry, the drawing-room, all without success,--he peeped under the
tables, behind the curtains, over the beds, beneath the pillows, and
into Mrs. Crabtree's bonnet-box,--he even opened the tea-chest, and
looked out at the window, in case Harry had tumbled over, but nowhere
could he be found.

"Not a mouse is stirring!" exclaimed Major Graham, beginning now to look
exceedingly grave and anxious. "This is very strange! The house-door is
locked, therefore, unless Harry made his escape through the key-hole, he
must be here! It is most unaccountable what the little pickle can have
done with himself!"

When Major Graham chose to exert his voice, it was as loud as a trumpet,
and could be heard half a mile off; so he now called out, like thunder,
from the top of the stairs to the bottom, saying, "Hollo, Harry! hollo!
Come here, my boy! Nobody shall hurt you! Harry! where are you!"

Uncle David waited to listen, but all was still,--no answer could be
heard, and there was not a sound in the house, except poor Laura at the
bottom of the stairs, sobbing with grief and terror about Harry having
been lost, and Mrs. Crabtree grumbling angrily to herself, on account of
the large hole in her best gown.

By this time Lady Harriet nearly fainted with fatigue, for she was so
very old, and had been ill all day; so she grew worse and worse, till
eve