of the pain at his heart. The elf in the toad-stool looked
up and said,

"Fairy, paint me a picture, here on the smooth surface of the
toad-stool, for I have never seen one."

Tintabel stopped his wailing to think how wretched was the elf who had
never seen a picture.

"Ah! elf," he said, "I have neither pencil nor colors. How can I paint?"

But the elf pointed to one of the thorns which fastened Tintabel's
wings. The end was long, so that the fairy could reach it.

"There is a pencil," said the elf; and the artist's longing came upon
the fairy, and he seized the thorn. Poor hurt wings! how they quivered
and pained as the point of their fastenings pressed hither and thither
over the surface of the toad-stool, and crushed and dragged and rent
them in its course! But the thorn had a magic in it, and Tintabel found
it possessed more than fairy power. The sharper his pain, the more
perfect the stroke he could make. As the delicate film of the wing was
torn, the rainbow tints dropped off, and gave him lovelier colors than
the hues of heaven; and the elf held up his tears as water for the
painting. He painted his remembrance of fairy-land and his weariness of
earth.

When the appointed day came, the Fairy Queen called her painters
together. The great hall was filled with them, but of all the pictures
none was so great as Orgolino's. He had painted "The Triumph of
Strength." Then said the Queen, "Where is Tintabel?" and no one knew.

"He has not cared to obey your Majesty's command," said Orgolino.

But the Queen looked at him steadily, and said, "Tintabel must be
found."

Then all the fairies went in search of him. Soon one returned and said,
"Tintabel is bound in the wood among the fungus and toad-stools, and
before him is a picture more beautiful than any fairy ever saw."

"Come," said the Queen; and her subjects followed her to the wood.

There, on the white toad-stool's top, was a tiny picture, lovelier and
grander at once than any fancy could dream, and it showed "The Triumph
of Pain."

Then Orgolino was turned out into the wood among the cold and creeping
things, and Tintabel was taken to great honor.

A WIDE-AWAKE RUSSIAN SENTRY.

BY DAVID KER.

Eighty or ninety years ago, when the Russians had a good many wars upon
their hands, their best general was Marshal Alexander Suvoroff, whose
name is still famous in Russia. Any old soldier you meet there will tell
you plenty of stories about him, and