ild of that Empire on which the sun never sets, and if he
live he is like to have larger opportunities of bearing discomfort
than was afforded by the wooly worry of his bottle-green leggings. I
am in good hopes that he will not be found wanting.

Some such thoughts, I believe, occurred to his Aunt.

"That's right, Jack. What a man you are!"

The rosy cheeks became carmine, and Jack flung himself upon his Aunt,
and kissed her with resounding smacks.

A somewhat wrecked appearance which she presented after this
boisterous hug, recalled the headache to his mind, and as he settled
the beaver hat, which had gone astray, he said ruefully--

"Is your headache _very_ bad, Auntie Julie!"

"Rather bad, Jack. _And as I can't shake it off, I have to bear it._"

He went away on tiptoe, and it was only after he had carefully and
gently closed the bedroom door behind him, that he departed by leaps
and bounds to show himself in his bottle-green coat and capes, and
white buttons and leggings to match, and beaver hat to boot, first to
the young Browns, and after that to the General Public.

As an Observer, I may say that it was a sight worth seeing; and as a
Bird of some wisdom, I prophesy well of that boy.

OWLHOOT II.

"Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling."

--_The Raven._

"Taffy was a thief."--_Old Song._

I find the following letters at the Hole in the Tree.

"X LINES, SOUTH CAMP, ALDERSHOT.

"SIR,--You speak with great feeling of that elevated position (I
allude, of course, to the top of the eight-day clock), which
circumstances led you somewhat hastily to decline. It would
undoubtedly have become you, and less cannot be said for such a
situation as the summit of an easel, overlooking the black-board, in
an establishment for the education of youth. Meanwhile it may interest
you to hear of a bird (not of your wisdom, but with parts, and a
respectable appearance) who secured a somewhat similar seat in
adopting that kind of home which you would not. It was in driving
through a wood at some little distance from the above address that we
found a wounded crow, and brought him home to our hut. He became a
member of the family, and received the name of Slyboots, for reasons
with which it is unnecessary to trouble you. He was made very welcome
in the drawing-room, but he preferred the kitchen. The kitchen is a
brick room detached from the wooden hut. It was once, in fact, an
armorer's shop