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    Perhaps it was the smoking supper that proved too much for the hungry fisher-boy, or perhaps Ned's conscience still troubled him, but the boy was unusually silent. Goody, try as she might, could get nothing out of him.

    The old lady felt faint, Gavril Afanassievitch drew back the curtain, looked coldly at the patient, and inquired how she was. The sick girl tried to smile but could not. Her father's stern gaze startled her, and fear overcame her. She fancied some one stood at the head of her bed. With an effort she raised her head and instantly recognised the Tsar's negro. At that moment she remembered all, and all the horror of the future presented itself before her. But exhausted nature could receive no further perceptible shock. Natasha dropped her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes, her heart within her gave sickly throbs. Tatiana Afanassievna signed to her brother that the patient wanted to go to sleep, and everybody left the apartments quietly. The maid alone remained and resumed her seat.

    Taking nine Squares, each an inch every way, I had put them together so as to make one large Square, with a side of three inches, and I had hence proved to my little Grandson that — though it was impossible for us to SEE the inside of the Square — yet we might ascertain the number of square inches in a Square by simply squaring the number of inches in the side: “and thus,” said I, “we know that 3^2, or 9, represents the number of square inches in a Square whose side is 3 inches long.”

    A correspondent puts this objection as follows: ‘When you say to your audience, “pragmatism is the truth concerning truth,” the first truth is different from the second. About the first you and they are not to be at odds; you are not giving them liberty to take or leave it according as it works satisfactorily or not for their private uses. Yet the second truth, which ought to describe and include the first, affirms this liberty. Thus the INTENT of your utterance seems to contradict the CONTENT of it.’

    “When she’s older she’ll be a princess, so it won’t matter.”

    ‘But is he still angry with me?’

    "Pass the buckets faster!" cried Mr. Sagger. "Douse out the fire!"

    A story that is curiously illustrative of Mr. Lincoln's attachment to the policy of removing the colored people is told by L.E. Chittenden in his Recollections of President Lincoln. Mr. Chittenden was a citizen of Vermont and Register of the Treasury under Lincoln, with whom he was in intimate and confidential relations:

    Chapter 3

    In semi-tropic Pacific weather the unexpected so seldom happens as to be a negligible quantity. The _Wolverine_ met with it on June 5th. From some unaccountable source in that realm of the heaven-scouring trades came a heavy mist. Possibly volcanic action, deranging by its electric and gaseous outpourings the normal course of the winds, had given birth to it. Be that as it may, it swept down upon the cruiser, thickening as it approached, until presently it had spread a curtain between the warship and its charge. The wind died. Until after fall of night the _Wolverine_ moved slowly, bellowing for the schooner, but got no reply. Once they thought they heard a distant shout of response, but there was no repetition.

    The decadent cartouches and dadoes telling this story were, as I have said, the latest we could find in our limited search. They left us with a picture of the Old Ones shuttling back and forth betwixt the land city in summer and the sea-cavern city in winter, and sometimes trading with the sea-bottom cities off the antarctic coast. By this time the ultimate doom of the land city must have been recognized, for the sculptures showed many signs of the cold’s malign encroachments. Vegetation was declining, and the terrible snows of the winter no longer melted completely even in midsummer. The saurian livestock were nearly all dead, and the mammals were standing it none too well. To keep on with the work of the upper world it had become necessary to adapt some of the amorphous and curiously cold-resistant Shoggoths to land life — a thing the Old Ones had formerly been reluctant to do. The great river was now lifeless, and the upper sea had lost most of its denizens except the seals and whales. All the birds had flown away, save only the great, grotesque penguins.

    The answer decides us — we determine to get back to the surface.

    I set to work moving all the cases out from the wall, and Duroc, gaining new hope from my courage, helped me with all his strength. It was no light task, for many of them were large and heavy. On we went, working like maniacs, slinging barrels, cheeses, and boxes pell-mell into the middle of the room. At last there only remained one huge barrel of vodka, which stood in the corner. With our united strength we rolled it out, and there was a little low wooden door in the wainscot behind it. The key fitted, and with a cry of delight we saw it swing open before us. With the lamp in my hand, I squeezed my way in, followed by my companion.

    CHAPTER XIII.—THE SOILING OF A PAGE.

      Pike, who pulled at Buck's heels, and who never put an ounce moreof his weight against the breast-band than he was compelled to do, wasswiftly and repeatedly shaken for loafing; and ere the first day was donehe was pulling more than ever before in his life. The first night in camp,Joe, the sour one, was punished roundly-- a thing that Spitz had neversucceeded in doing. Buck simply smothered him by virtue of superiorweight, and cut him up till he ceased snapping and began to whine for mercy.

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