be mated; but, as it is, we must remain
seven pigeons.'"

"Quite so," put in Pedro. "And once upon a time there were seven wives
who had only one husband, and they are waiting outside to see him."

The magician, at these words, lost all control over his temper; but
Pedro heeded him not, rather did he endeavour to increase his rage by
repeating all about the seven wives.

"I am undone!" cried the magician; "but if you will induce the spirits
of my seven wives to again seek the grave, I will give you what you
want, and that is the princess."

"Give me the princess first," answered Pedro, "and then I will free you
of your wives."

"Take her, then," said the magician; "here she is. And forget not what
you have promised me, for I may tell you in confidence that a man with
seven wives cannot play the magician."

Pedro hurried away with the princess; and after they had been married
and crowned, the princess, who was now queen, one day said to him--

"Pedro, the magician who held me captive from you was Rank, and
therefore were the balconies so high. When you saw me on the beach fed
by pigeons, it was that you should know my power; on the shore I was
attended by winged messengers, and on the sea I sailed about at
pleasure."

"But what about the wounded pigeon?" asked Pedro.

"Recollect, Pedro, what you said to me in the garden," answered the
princess--"that you would rather slay me than do me a more grievous
injury. That poor pigeon with its broken wing could no more hope to soar
aloft than an injured woman to mix with her former associates."

"And what about the seven wives who were waiting outside, and who so
frightened the old magician, Rank?" continued Pedro.

"They are the seven deadly sins, who would each have a tongue for
itself, and yet without tongues are enough to frighten Rank," answered
the princess.

"And who am I, then," asked Pedro, "to be so exalted now?"

"You are the wise man who strove to do his best, yet tried not to exalt
himself above his position," sweetly answered the princess.

"So that the magician Rank has unwillingly raised the poor fisherman to
be king," whispered Pedro.

"Not Rank alone, but much more so thy own worth."

LADY CLARE.

TRANSLATION.

Lady Clare was in her garden overlooking the sea. It was a summer's day,
and the many coloured butterflies flitted about under the trees and
among the sweet smelling flowers.

Lady Clare was combing her golden tresses with