is none in all my knowledge
Than this same Little Bear.

But when the firelight shining
Lights the room up with its glare,
I often camp on the hearth-rug,
Good friends with Little Bear.

And I'm very sure I should miss him
If ever he wasn't there--
This irrepressible Indian,
By the name of Little Bear!

MY ST. GEORGE.

BY ALICE MAUDE EDDY.

It is ten years ago to-day since Georgie May and I went to "Captain
Kidd's Cave" after sea-urchins. Georgie was a neighbor's child with whom
I had played all my short life, and whom I loved almost as dearly as my
own brothers. Such a brave, bright face he had, framed by sunny hair
where the summers had dropped gold dust as they passed him by. I can see
him now as he stood that day on the firm sand of the beach, with his
brown eyes glowing and his plump hand brandishing a wooden sword which
he himself had made, and painted with gorgeous figures of red and
yellow.

"You see, Allie," he was saying, "his name was Saint George, and he was
a knight. And so there was a great dragon with a fiery crest. And so he
went at him, and killed him; and he married the princess, and they lived
happy ever after. I'd have killed him, too, if I'd been there!"

"_Could_ you kill a dragon?" I asked, rather timidly.

"Course I could!" replied the young champion. "I'd have a splendid white
horse,--no, a black one,--and a sword like Jack the Giant Killer's,
and--and--oh, and an invisible ring! I'd use him up pretty quick. Then
I'd cut off his head and give it to the princess, and we'd have a feast
of jelly-cake, and cream candy, and then I would marry her!"

I could only gasp admiringly at this splendid vision.

"But mamma said," went on Georgie, more thoughtfully, "that there are
dragons now; and she said she would like me to be a Saint George. She's
going to tell some more to-night, but there's getting angry, that's a
dragon, and wanting to be head of everything, that's another, and she
and me are going to fight 'em. We said so."

"But how?" I asked, with wide open eyes. "I don't see any dragon when
I'm angry!"

"Oh, you're a girl," said Georgie, consolingly; and we ran on
contentedly, wading across the shallow pools of salt water, clambering
over the rocks, and now and then stopping to pick up a bright pebble or
shell. The whole scene comes vividly before me as I think of it
now:--the gray and brown cliffs, with their sharp crags and narrow
clefts half