bout
with their naked feet, taking excellent care to steer clear of the
closet containing the black snake.

"It's getting awful, awful dark," said Jelly.

"That's so," said Bunch, wondering, and looking up to see why the
small window gave so little light. Something outside moved just then.
The window was opened, and there were two faces looking down at
them--two faces full of astonishment. They belonged to Rosy and uncle
Tim.

"Children, get right out of that filth, and go up stairs," ordered
Rosy.

Up stairs they went, one hanging behind the other, and entered the
room from the cellar just as Rosy came in at the front door. Can you
imagine how they must have looked, drenched and spoiled with the
impure water from the dainty ruffles at their throats to the very
nails of their toes? Like drowned rats! Rosy only said, with a
withering glance at the Midgetts,--

"Never come to our house again for cold pieces."

Then bidding the children gather up their stockings and shoes, she
marched them off barefooted between herself and uncle Tim. Tiny's new
buttoned shoes had found a watery grave; for, as the bathers came up
stairs, one of the Midgett feet pitched them gracefully into the
cellar.

"Tiny," said Bunch, as they walked mournfully home, amid the
astonished gaze of the returning school children. "I don't believe
there was a wildcat there any of the time."

"No, nor a black man in the sewer," said Tiny.

"Nor a black snake in the closet," said Jelly.

But there were a hot bath and clean clothing at home for them, and
warm beds. Whether there was anything more severe than a good lecture,
I will leave you to guess; for mamma said they were old enough to know
better than to believe in any such ridiculous nonsense, all excepting
little Jelly.

I should be ashamed to finish the conclusion of the affair; for what
do you think, children? It all actually happened, once upon a time, to
myself and two of my sisters.

FANNIE BENEDICT.

Mirth is a medicine of life:
It cures its ills, it calms its strife;
It softly smooths the brow of care,
And writes a thousand graces there.

LAME SUSIE.

"Children," said Miss Ware to her little band of scholars, "Susie Dana
is coming to school next Monday. She is lame, and I want you to be
kind and thoughtful toward her. She does not show her lameness until
she commences to walk, and then you can see that o