k to the others.

"We'll make a 'go' of it," said Neal. "It's just the thing I've been
looking for."

"I have an idea, Jack," said Mrs. Franklin, as they came in. "When are
the chickens to come out?"

"Next Thursday."

"Then we will celebrate the event in proper style. We will ask our
friends to come to a 'hatching bee.'"

"But suppose they don't hatch? Suppose they act the way they did
before?" said Jack, dubiously.

"Oh, they'll hatch, I will answer for them. You have learned how to take
better care of them, and no one has interfered, and--oh, I am sure they
will be out in fine shape!"

Only Edith objected to this proposition, and she dared not say so before
her father.

Apparently the Gordons were going to carry all before them, and she, who
until so recently had been to all intents and purposes the mistress of
the house, was not even asked if she approved of the idea. She went to
bed feeling that her lot was a very hard one.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

WHEN ROYALTY TRAVELS.

BY WILLIAM HEMMINGWAY.

To live like a king is all very well, but to travel like one--may we all
be delivered from such a fate! The modern monarch flits from his palace
like the pheasant from his covert. True, the hunter may not pot him this
time, but the danger of being killed is very great, and the king, like
the golden-hued bird, knows that many of his brothers have fallen before
the destroyer, who is constantly on the alert. Pheasants may be shot
only during certain weeks, but anarchists never cease devising and
trying new ways of king-killing.

Whenever a monarch starts on a journey he is haunted by the belief that
the anarchists must have found out all about it beforehand in their
usual way, and that they are busy with plots for his destruction. Even
Queen Victoria, that best-beloved wearer of a crown, is bound to use
almost as many precautions as the Czar of Russia. No common traveller
has so much to be thankful for at the end of a journey as a safely
arrived monarch. It is much pleasanter to be a President of the United
States, pay your own fare, and feel afraid of nobody.

[Illustration: "THERE GOES THE QUEEN."]

When the Queen of Great Britain starts for Windsor or Balmoral, or on
any other railway journey, a time is chosen that will cause the least
inconvenience to traffic; for the invariable rule is that no other
trains may run over the road the Queen is using. All the switches are
locked. Preceded and followed