ions. Guided by the barking of the dog, they soon reached the
thicket, and there found the man they were in quest of, pinned to the
earth by the sagacious animal.

"Oh, Seppi! Seppi!" exclaimed Walter, in astonishment and sorrow, "how
could you be guilty of such an act as this!"

The conscience-stricken man paled before the indignant youth.

"I will give you back everything, and beg your pardon for all I've
done," whined the wretched drover, "if you will only release me from
this savage brute that has nearly been the death of me."

At the call of his master the dog quitted his hold, and Seppi handed
Walter the money-belt.

Walter counted the notes and gold, and was glad to find the contents
untouched. Seppi rose to his feet meanwhile, but stood looking to the
ground in shame and fear.

Walter, feeling compassion for him, begged that he might be let off; and
Mr. Seymour consented.

Seppi was overjoyed at being let off so easily. He had not dared to
expect that Walter would have taken his part, and felt really thankful
that his first great crime had not met with a severe and terrible
punishment. With earnestness in his tone, he thanked his former
companion, and with unaffected emotion assured him solemnly that he
would never again stretch out his hand to that which did not belong to
him.

He kissed Walter's hand and moistened it with his tears, and was gone.

"Now," said Mr. Seymour, "I think we must set off toward Paris, if we
are to get there to-night."

After a long journey, the travellers reached the French metropolis; and
Walter repaired with Mr. Seymour to one of the best hotels, where, in a
soft and luxurious bed, he soon forgot the toil and anxiety of the day,
and slept sounder than he had ever done in his life.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

THE WEASEL AND THE FROGS.

"I think the weasel is a mean, wicked murderer," said Harry, as he came
rushing into his mother's room, his face flushed and his little fists
clinched tight together: "My white rabbit lies all in a little dead heap
in his house, and Mike, the gardener, says the weasel has killed him. He
saw it prowling round the barn last night, and why he didn't set a trap
and catch it I don't see."

Mamma put aside her sewing, and went to comfort Harry, who began to cry
bitterly for the loss of his pet.

"Poor Bunny!" said mamma; "he should not have been left out when Mr.
Weasel was around. But we will buy another Bunny, two Bunnies, a white
one