tire fortune--and it was
little enough to offer my country--has been refused, although I am
allowed to subscribe to the war loan. Yet money means so little in a
time like this. Whenever I hear the call for volunteers, I am like the
old war horse that is turned out to grass. I am an old man now, nearly
seventy, and must sit at home by the fire. But it hurts a little,
Allison; it hurts a little."

For a while there was silence between them. When Allison rose to go,
Levy followed him to the door, stopping a moment at the drawer of his
desk to wrap a small package which he thrust into his old friend's
hand.

"'Tis for the boy, my name-sake," he explained. "The money will buy
him some toy--maybe a small vessel to sail when the tide is low--and
the other--," he laughed a little confusedly. "I found the trifle
among some old keepsakes and papers the other day when I put my
affairs in order. Give it to the boy and tell him of the day we found
it. And come again soon, Allison, and talk over old times."

Out in the street, Ned Allison removed the wrappings from the little
package. It contained a gold piece and a lucky stone with a bit of
soiled string still fastened through one of the holes.

THE PRINCESS OF PHILADELPHIA

_The Story of Rebecca Gratz and Washington Irving._

The spring rain fell on the roof with a gentle murmur, tinkling
merrily as though it were pleased to hear the happy laughter of the
children playing in the garret of Michael Gratz's house in
Philadelphia. Six children romped there that Saturday afternoon in
early springtime, away back in the year 1712, Rebecca Gratz, her
younger brothers and sister and the one guest she had invited to her
eleventh birthday party, Matilda Hoffman, a girl about her own age,
whose fair long braids formed a striking contrast to Rebecca's dusky
curls.

Just now the merriment was at its height for Rebecca, aided by
Matilda, was setting the table, while nine-year-old Rachel tried to
amuse baby Benjamin who was making violent efforts to nibble at the
trimmings of the birthday cake. Joseph and Jacob, fine sturdy fellows
of seven and six, had found a pair of fencing foils in one of the old
trunks in the corner and were engaged in a lively duel, displaying
such recklessness that had their mother seen them she would have
confiscated the weapons without delay. Perhaps Rebecca would have
stopped this dangerous play had she not been too busy with the
banquet-table--really a