me five minutes for it to get to
the station, and the train was due to start in one minute. So he went to
the station-master, and explained to him that his friend was very
anxious to catch the train: he asked him if he would be so kind as to
stop it till the carriage arrived. The station-master, however, refused
to do so, saying that the train was already late.

'We will see about that,' retorted the other; and he actually went and
sat down between the rails right in front of the engine.

The station-master dared not let the train start, and though he begged
the nobleman to get up, the latter refused to move until his friend
arrived. While they were arguing the carriage drove up, and his friend
got his ticket; and then at last the obstinate old gentleman left his
dangerous position, and they went off in the train together. The trick
had been successful, though it was a very dangerous and foolish one.

HEART'S-EASE.

There is a little simple flower,
Heart's-ease by name--I know not why;
And yet, perchance, it has the power
To cause a tear or calm a sigh.

And if a dear one sends to me
The tiny flower, I'll prize it well;
For in the token I should see
The wish the flower was meant to tell.

And still its faded leaves I'd keep,
Although they had no scent to please;
Ah, better still! they seem to speak
A message, praying my heart's-ease.

By waters still in sweet spring-time
It lifts its sweet, mild gaze to me,
While on my ears faint falls the chime
Of evening bells across the lea.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: "Mr. Merry, with Tabby in his arms, was just leaving the
house."]

TABBY'S GHOST.

All at once the matter was settled. Dr. Whitehead had given his
orders--Mother must have change of air at once, and they were all going
to Clifton for two months. The house was to be shut up, and in Edith's
heart the question arose, 'What shall we do with Tabby?' Tabby was a
pleasant, gentle cat, her especial property. 'Mother,' she said, 'might
we not take Tabby with us? I could pay her railway fare with the
half-crown Aunt Dora gave me. I should like it so much!'

'No, dear, it is quite impossible to do so,' replied her mother; 'but
perhaps Mr. Merry, the milkman, would keep her for you; she would get
plenty of milk, and you know she is a good mouser. Mr. Merry would be
pleased with that; I have heard him say that his barn is over-run with
mice.'