goose,
who had spent a fortnight hatching eggs in a farmer's kitchen, was
suddenly taken ill. She left her nest, waddled to a neighbouring
outhouse, and persuaded a young goose to go back with her. The young one
instantly scrambled into the vacant nest, and hatched and afterwards
brought up the brood. The old goose sat down by the side of the nest to
die. As the young goose had never reared a brood before, nor been inside
the kitchen, the elder must somehow have explained the duties to her,
and the younger have understood and accepted the charge.

[Illustration: "Mrs. Baboon and her family escaped unhurt."]

It seems, then, that want of understanding on our part, rather than
stupidity on theirs, prevents a closer understanding between ourselves
and the animal creation. Though we are not able to bridge over the gulf
separating speechless animals and men, we may at least take care that
the dumb prayers of the 'lower brethren' never fall on wilfully deaf
ears, or on unkind hearts.

EDITH CARRINGTON.

[Illustration: "'Good evening, skipper!'"]

AFLOAT ON THE DOGGER BANK.

A Story of Adventure on the North Sea and in China.

(_Continued from page 269._)

CHAPTER X.

The result of Mr. Page's generosity was that when Fred and Charlie went
to a tailor's, Ping Wang ordered a Chinese costume. A week later it was
sent home, and when Ping Wang put it on, and permitted his pigtail to
hang down, he looked quite a different man. That day the family were
sitting talking over the coming voyage when a maid came in.

'A man wants to see you, sir,' she said to Mr. Page. 'He says his name
is Skipper Drummond.'

'What a lark!' Charlie exclaimed to Ping Wang. 'Shall we carry him down
the garden, and pitch him in the duck-pond?'

'Show Skipper Drummond in,' Mr. Page said to the maid, and as she
departed he continued, 'Now, you boys and Ping Wang, go into the
conservatory, and wait there until I call you.'

Fred, Charlie, and Ping Wang stepped into the conservatory, and seated
themselves on a rustic bench, so that they could hear what the skipper
said without being seen by him.

'Skipper Drummond, sir,' the maid said, as she reopened the door.

The bullying little skipper had evidently made a strong effort to look
respectable. He was attired in a shiny black frock-coat, and had it not
been for his brightly-coloured tie, one would have imagined that he was
going to a funeral. In one hand he held a tall hat; in the othe