A few days after I was strutting about in a new suit of soldier's clothes, with a shilling in my pocket. It was the first shilling of my own I had ever possessed, and I felt immensely rich. I could tell you of wonderful things I have gone through since then, but that is how I became a soldier.

A story they tell of a lunatic man,
Who slid down hill in a warming-pan;

ter-ri-ble

He steered himself with the handle, of course,
And clucked away as he would to a horse;
His legs, it is true, were somewhat in the way,
And his seat rather tight, if a body might say;
But he landed all right at the foot of the hill,
And, for all that I know, is sitting there still.
You smile at the story, and wonder how folks
Can get from their brain such a terrible hoax;
But sliding down hill is many a man

On a much worse thing than a warming-pan.
Some are going down at full speed on their pride,
And others who on their stinginess slide;
But the strangest way of taking that ride
Is to go, as some do, on a beer-jug astride.
Beware of such coasting, or like Jack and Gill,
You'll make sorry work in getting down hill ;
Beware, for with what other evil you tug,
'Tis nothing like sliding down hill on a jug.

By permission of Messrs. Cassell & Co.

Young De Lacy lived in the heroic age, when men fought their way to fame and fortune. If we could believe all the old books tell us, they must have had fine times of it in those ages; but we are afraid a good deal we read is hardly true, and that things were not so much better than they are now. The parents of De Lacy were poor, and he scorned the humble toil by which they earned their daily bread.

He had heard the minstrels sing of great battles and glorious victories. He had been told how young men, as poor as himself, had risen to be kings and princes; and he said to himself, 'I, too, will be great. What man has done, man can do. With youth and good fortune on my side, I will win fame and honour.'

So he armed himself with a long spear and a trusty sword. He placed a helmet on his head and stout sandals on his feet. He covered himself with a coat of mail, and in his left hand carried a shield. Thus armed, he left home to seek his fortune. He wished for some adventure by which he could distinguish himself, and which would spread his name and fame throughout the land.

On the way he met a wise old hermit, who, hearing from him his wish, advised him to return and live in peace. Think,' said he, 'of the

heroes of old who trusted in their shields and boasted of their strength, but who perished in battle. When Ajax was born, Hercules wrapped

him in the skin of the Nemean lion, and prayed that the child might have a skin that no weapon could pierce. His prayer was heard, and the child was shielded all over, except the hole through which the string of his quiver hung. But that small hole was the spot where he was wounded, for he was killed in battle.

And when Achilles was born, Thetis took him by the heels and dipped him over head in the Styx, to shield him for life. But the heel by which she held him was not protected. It is said that Paris aimed an arrow at his heel and killed him.

'But,' said the old hermit, 'if thou wilt go to war, be humble and be watchful. Let not him that putteth on the armour boast himself as he that putteth it off.'

De Lacy thanked the hermit for his good advice, and turned his steps homewards. He enlisted in the service of the king, became a brave soldier, and fought bravely on the field of battle. Step by step he rose from the ranks to be a chief officer of his sovereign.

When the wars were over he returned to his native village. He laid aside his weapons, took off his armour, and spent the rest of his days in peace and quietness. When he died, his children often told how he became a soldier of fortune by patient, faithful service.

Near the close of a sultry day in summer, the black storm-clouds gathered in the western sky, and filled the earth with gloom. Their dark shadows fell upon the fields, and made the flowers and the cattle look sad and lonely.

A sunbeam tried to find its way to the earth to cheer and comfort them. But it fell among the thick clouds, and was unable to shine through them. There it met with its great rival, the lightning, and said, 'What shall I do? I am sent to the earth to shine on the flowers and the grass and the trees, but I have lost my way and cannot find them. They will miss me, and are, perhaps, now wondering why I do not come to smile upon them and comfort them.'

'I am going down to the earth,' said the lightning, and will do your work. I am brighter and clearer than you, and I can fly much faster. If I go and visit your friends, the birds and cattle and flowers, they will never miss you.'

So the lightning flashed from the clouds before the sunbeam had time to reply, and shone for an instant on the dark earth beneath.