ery wise and good action a man does, he will commit two
hundred and forty foolish bad ones."

Under examination by Dr. John Ker, a boy wrote regarding Oliver
Cromwell--"Oliver Cromwell's eyes were of a dark grey, his nose was very
large and of a deep, red colour, but underneath it was a truly religious
soul." Another wrote--"By the Declaration of Indulgence people were
allowed to worship God in their own way. Seven Bishops refused to do so.
They were accordingly put on their trial and found not guilty."

Another declared that the Salic Law says--"No one can be made King who
was descended from a woman."

Speaking there of Oliver Cromwell, recalls the story of a boy's school
essay which the late Mr. W. E. Gladstone was fond of telling--albeit,
the great Commoner had no very lively sense of humour. The "G.O.M.'s"
comically-mixed youthful historian wrote--"Oliver Cromwell began his
career by cutting off the head of his king, and when he was dying he
said, 'Had I served my God with half the zeal I have served my king, he
would not in mine age have left me naked to mine enemies.'"

I have examples of other boys' essays not less surprising and
entertaining.

"The horse," wrote a youthful Cuvier, in an essay on the "friend of
man," "is a useful creacher. It eats corn, it is a sort of square animal
with a leg at each corner, and has a head at one end and a tail at the
other."

Here is a boy's essay on "Breath," well calculated to almost take any
one's breath away--"Breath is made of air. We breathe with our lungs,
our livers, and our kidneys. If it wasn't for our lights and our breath
we should die when we slept. Our breath keeps life agoing through the
nose when we are asleep. Boys that stay in a room all day should not
breathe. They should wait till they get outdoors. Boys in a room make
carbonicide. Carbonicide is more poisonous than mad dogs. A heap of
soldiers was in a black hole in India and carbonicide got into that
black hole and killed nearly every one afore morning. Girls kill the
breath with corsets that squeeze the diagram. Girls can't run or holler
like boys because their diagram is squeezed too much. If I was a girl,
I'd rather be a boy so I can run and holler and have a good big
diagram."

The next looks rather knowing for a lad of eleven-and-a-half; but Dr. T.
J. Macnamara, M.P., in an article on "Children's Witticisms,"
contributed to the _New Liberal Review_, vouches for its authenticity.
The subject r