all at once, a shrill scream startled him. On opening his
eyes he saw the cat on his pillow. She too was terrified, and her eyes
glared, for she knew the rats were close upon them.

Up jumped the Bishop, and from his barred window he saw the black cloud
of rats swiftly approaching. They had crossed the deep current, and were
marching in such a direct line toward his hiding-place that they might
have been taken for a well-marshalled army. Not by dozens or scores, but
by thousands and thousands, the creatures were seen. Never before had
there been such a sight.

"Down on his knees the Bishop fell,
And faster and faster his beads did he tell,
As louder and louder, drawing near,
The gnawing of their teeth he could hear.

"And in at the windows, and in at the door,
And through the walls helter-skelter they pour,
And down from the ceiling and up through the floor,
From the right and the left, from behind and before,
From within and without, from above and below,
And all at once to the Bishop they go.

"They have whetted their teeth against the stones,
And now they pick the Bishop's bones.
They gnawed the flesh from every limb,
For they were sent to do judgment on him."

Such was the horrible fate of Bishop Hatto; and whether it be perfectly
true or not, it is a striking illustration of the folly, as well as the
cruelty, of selfishness.

[Illustration: FUN IN THE WOODS.]

[Illustration: OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.]

FULTON WELLS, CALIFORNIA.

I am assistant teacher here in Little Lake district. I have a class
of seven boys, among whom I am dividing the year's subscription of
YOUNG PEOPLE. The "Parrot Story" I read aloud in school, and am now
doing the same with the "Brave Swiss Boy." I read a chapter in the
morning, and those who are tardy lose the story till they can
borrow the paper. Every number is sewed, and the leaves neatly cut,
and the boys are much pleased with the charming little paper and
the beautiful stories. The story about the "Flower that Grew in a
Cellar" left them hushed and thoughtful for several minutes
afterward. The puzzles and "Wiggles" are all discussed, but none of
the boys dare send answers for fear they "wouldn't be right." A
great California owl flew into the school-room the other night
through the top of a lowered window, and staid all day perched up
over our heads, with his grea