his place, when his neighbors presented him with pens and a print; and another boy, from the last bench, sent him a Swiss postage-stamp.

MY COMRADES.

Tuesday, 25th.

The boy who sent the postage-stamp to the Calabrian is the one who pleases me best of all. His name is Garrone: he is the biggest boy in the class: he is about fourteen years old; his head is large, his shoulders broad; he is good, as one can see when he smiles; but it seems as though he always thought like a man. I already know many of my comrades. Another one pleases me, too, by the name of Coretti, and he wears chocolate-colored trousers and a catskin cap: he is always jolly; he is the son of a huckster of wood, who was a soldier in the war of 1866, in the squadron of Prince Umberto, and they say that he has three medals. There is little Nelli, a poor hunchback, a weak boy, with a thin face. There is one who is very well dressed, who always wears fine Florentine plush, and is named Votini. On the bench in front of

he Chief of Police47. Al-Malik Al-Nasir and the Three Chiefs of Policea. Story of the Chief of Police of Cairob. Story of the Chief of the Bulak Policec. Story of the Chief of the Old Cairo Police48. The Thief and the Shroff49. The Chief of the Kus Police and the Sharper50. Ibrahim Bin Al-Mahdi and the Merchant's Sister51. The Woman Whose Hands were Cut Off For Giving Alms to thePoor52. The Devout Israelite53. Abu Hassan Al-Ziyadi and the Khorasan54. The Poor Man and His Friend in Need55. The Ruined Man Who became Rich Again Through A Dream56. Caliph Al-Mutawakkil and His Concubine Mahbubah57. Wardan the Butcher; His Adventure With the Lady and the Bear58. The King's Daughter and the Ape

The Book of the Thousand Nights and A Night

Ni'amah bin al-Rabi'a and Naomi his Slave-girl.

There lived once in the city of Cufa[FN#1] a man called Al-Rabí'abin Hátim, who was one of the chief men of the town, a wealth

Just us three. Maybe we can reallyfind something. May be cinnabar in it."

"May be indigo," Jeff suggested, with his lazy smile.

It was early yet; we had just breakfasted; and leaving wordthat we'd be back before night, we got away quietly, not wishingto be thought too gullible if we failed, and secretly hoping tohave some nice little discovery all to ourselves.

It was a long two hours, nearer three. I fancy the savage couldhave done it alone much quicker. There was a desperate tangleof wood and water and a swampy patch we never should havefound our way across alone. But there was one, and I could seeTerry, with compass and notebook, marking directions and tryingto place landmarks.

We came after a while to a sort of marshy lake, very big, sothat the circling forest looked quite low and dim across it. Ourguide told us that boats could go from there to our camp--but"long way--all day."

This water was somewhat clearer than that we had left, butwe could no

ing packages by the door. Dayne didn't know what the fuss had been about. The man's hair had regrown in a mere matter of months.

"Just a moment, please."

Whoever was calling after midnight could only be bringing trouble with them. For a while, after what was later called: the tribal massacre, the lone hero had darkened his door, convinced Dayne was up to something nefarious and had to be taken down. Or another Cary Town villain decided to rise to infamy and needed Dayne out of the way to do it.

He'd eventually managed the right formula on the wards, and most steered clear, deciding it wasn't worth it. It had been quiet for the past decade. Either the wards were working or he'd been deemed irrelevant. Either way was fine by him.

The wards dropped as Dayne opened the door to reveal a diminutive black cat with bright golden eyes sitting primly on the middle of his front stoop. She blinked up at him full of rehearsed pet store innocence, her tail wrapped around her tiny paws.

t tell us how his son comes to be your guest," President Bonnet urged.

"It is very simple: Etienne Rambert is an energetic man who is always moving about. Although he is quite sixty he still occupies himself with some rubber plantations he possesses in Colombia, and he often goes to America: he thinks no more of the voyage than we do of a trip to Paris. Well, just recently young Charles Rambert was leaving the pension in Hamburg where he had been living in order to perfect his German; I knew from his father's letters that Mme. Rambert was about to be put away, and that Etienne Rambert was obliged to be absent, so I offered to receive Charles here until his father should return to Paris. Charles came the day before yesterday, and that is the whole story."

"And M. Etienne Rambert joins him here to-morrow?" said the Abbé.

"That is so----"

* * * * *

The Marquise de Langrune would have given other information about her young friend had he not come into the room ju

Since the first DECADA of Barros was published in 1552,[3] this argument is not unreasonable; while a comparison between the accounts given by Nuniz and Barros of the siege and battle of Raichur sufficiently proves that one was taken from the other. But we have fortunately more direct evidence, for the discovery of which we have to thank Mr. Ferguson. I have mentioned above that at the end of the MS. volume are copies of two letters concerning China. These were written subsequent to the year 1520 by Vasco Calvo and Christovao Vieyra. Mr. Ferguson has pointed out to me that, in the third DECADA (liv. IV, caps. 4, 5), after quoting some passages almost verbatim from this chronicle of Nuniz regarding Vijayanagar, Barros writes: "According to two letters which our people had two or three years afterwards from these two men, Vasco Calvo, brother of Diogo Calvo, and Christovao Vieyra, who were prisoners in Canton, etc...." He also mentions these letters in two subsequent passages, and quotes from them. This r

indeed to be such a warrior as she neededin her enterprise, and her hopes of success tooka sudden bound when Files told her he knewwhere a gun-tree grew and would go there atonce and pick the ripest and biggest musket thetree bore.

Chapter Two

Out of Oogaboo

Three days later the Grand Army of Oogabooassembled in the square in front of the royalpalace. The sixteen officers were attired ingorgeous uniforms and carried sharp, glitteringswords. The Private had picked his gun and,although it was not a very big weapon, Files triedto look fierce and succeeded so well that all hiscommanding officers were secretly afraid of him.

The women were there, protesting that Queen AnnSoforth had no right to take their husbands andfathers from them; but Ann commanded them to keepsilent, and that was the hardest order to obeythey had ever received.

The Queen appeared before her Army dressed in animposing uniform of green, covered with goldbraid. She wore a

ointment at Mostaganem, and had lately been entrusted with some topographical work on the coast between Tenes and the Shelif. It was a matter of little consequence to him that the gourbi, in which of necessity he was quartered, was uncomfortable and ill-contrived; he loved the open air, and the independence of his life suited him well. Sometimes he would wander on foot upon the sandy shore, and sometimes he would enjoy a ride along the summit of the cliff; altogether being in no hurry at all to bring his task to an end. His occupation, moreover, was not so engrossing but that he could find leisure for taking a short railway journey once or twice a week; so that he was ever and again putting in an appearance at the general's receptions at Oran, and at the fetes given by the governor at Algiers.

It was on one of these occasions that he had first met Madame de L----, the lady to whom he was desirous of dedicating the rondo, the first four lines of which had just seen the light. She was a colonel's widow,

e furnish'd me From mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom.

Mir. Would I might But ever see that man!

Pros. Now I arise: [Resumes his mantle. Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. 170 Here in this island we arrived; and here Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit Than other princesses can, that have more time For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.

Mir. Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir, 175 For still 'tis beating in my mind, your reason For raising this sea-storm?

Pros. Know thus far forth. By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune, Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies Brought to this shore; and by my prescience 180 I find my zenith doth depend upon A most auspicious star, whose influence If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions: Thou art inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness, 185 And give it way: I know thou canst not choose

athlete of Olympic proportions to make up for the love he wouldn't feel for her. Too much trouble for the few weeks before her presence began to drain him of everything he held dear. Then she'd be gone, and the bar would be raised another notch for whomever came next, and where would it all lead him? A woman with superhuman flexibility and the perverse nature of an Indian God, perhaps. A woman made of fingertips and tongues, with no sense of shame.

And he still wouldn't love her.

He sat at his kitchen table, sipped coffee, and stared over his newspaper at the busy street beyond his window. There was no way around it. He couldn't face the real world. He had lived too long with reality. He raised a hand to his neck and ran fingertips along the network of tiny puncture marks criss-crossing the skin at the base of his jaw. He would have to visit Sir Million.

He plucked a set of keys from the hook by the phone and rubbed his thumb across the silver dog tag. There was a time when he could rejoice in the sensation the stamped letters made under his thumb, delight in the ripple of cold, roll