he recognized his early
friend--his benefactor! To raise him up, put him on his own horse,
lead him gently to his own home, and, once there, to send for the best
medical skill, and tend him through the illness that supervened, with
a tenderness feminine in its thoughtful gentleness, was Sidney's
privilege.

In the intervals of his illness Walter related that his father had
died at Madeira; that, hoping to obtain a settlement of some claims,
he had visited America; that, waiting to have better news of himself
to communicate, he put off writing from time to time; that he had gone
with a company of adventurous young men to California, and there,
instead of finding gold, spent all his means. Hoping to retrieve his
position, he had come to Australia, and there his lot, though hard,
was only that of hundreds, in the first trying time of mad excitement
and wild adventure. "And I must get to work again. I'm not going to be
here idle much longer," he said, at the conclusion of a conversation
on the past.

"As to work, I've plenty for you to do."

"I can't continue to be a burden on you, Sid. I've no claim."

"You've every claim. As to burdens, you remind me how long I was a
burden on you and your father. Once for all, I say, the help you gave
me fitted me to get my living, and, by God's blessing, to make my way
in life. Share with me in my business."

Walter was beginning to interrupt; but Sidney, raising his hand,
deprecatingly, said,--

"You have still the advantage over me, that you gave me help when I
had done nothing to deserve it of you. I only make a small
repayment--a mere instalment of a great debt. Dear Walter, my good
fellow, let there be no contest between us. Are we not friends? Does
that not mean helpers?"

And so it was. The tie, never broken, was knit again yet more closely.
Brothers in friendship, they ultimately became so in relationship; for
as soon as Walter had a home, he invited a sister to share it with
him, and she, in a few months after her arrival, became the wife of
Sidney. And so the bond of brotherhood prospered, for many years.

PUSS.

Is it not a little more than surprising that the common domestic cat,
an animal which we are better acquainted with than the dog, should be
permitted to grow up with so little instruction? I think so. Almost
every dog has some tricks; many dogs have a great number. Yet how
rarely do you see a cat of which anything more is expected than that
she s