dren went away contented.

(_To be continued._)

LEGENDS OF THE FLOWERS.

THE SUNFLOWER.

Where hollyhocks lift their blossoms gay,
And dahlias show their velvet dyes,
The Sunflower in its flaming pride
With them in gorgeous beauty vies.

Proudly it turns towards the sun,
And lifts aloft its golden shield,
As in the day when first its bloom
To wondering Spaniards was revealed.

For, when the Spaniards found Peru,
A marvel there they did behold,
The fields with Sunflowers covered o'er
Seemed like a living sheet of gold.

No wonder that Peruvian priests,
Who worshipped the Sun-god, should take
The Sunflower for their chosen flower,
And hold it sacred for his sake.

Each holy priestess of the Sun
A glittering golden breast-plate wore,
Fashioned to semblance of the flower,
That also in her hand she bore.

And though in lands far from Peru
A home the Sunflower bright hath found,
It worships still the sun, as when
The Spaniards trod Peruvian ground.

THEIR ROAD TO FORTUNE.

THE STORY OF TWO BROTHERS.

_By the Author of "The Heir of Elmdale," &c. &c._

CHAPTER XIII.--MR. GREGORY'S OPINION.

"What do you generally have for your luncheon?" Mr. Murray said, as
he led the way to the dining-room. "Something good, I've no doubt.
Now, just you tell me what it is."

"Well, sir, a Bath bun and a glass of milk," Bertie replied, looking
vainly round the enormous table in search of his favourite dainty.

"Then I'm afraid you must manage with a cutlet to-day," Mr. Murray
said, with one of his peculiar smiles, "or some cold roast beef, or
ham and chicken," glancing from one to another of the dishes that
adorned the table. "Really, boy, I'm afraid we have not such a thing
as a Bath bun in the house, or within a quarter of a mile of us; but
a glass of milk I dare say James can find you, unless you would
prefer some claret and water."

"No, thank you, sir; but plain water will do very well," Bertie
replied, feeling a little confused.

"Do you never drink wine of any kind at your Uncle Gregory's?"

[Illustration: "HE TURNED HIS BULL'S-EYE ON BERTIE" (_p. 285_).]

"No, sir; papa made Eddie and I promise we would never even taste it
till we grew to be men, and we never have. He said that then we would
like it so little that we would not care if we never tasted it a
second time."

"He was quite right, boy. And now tell me why