sooner had old Shep retired from the vicinity of the hole, however, than the younger dog was there, digging with all his might; and a few minutes later Old Shep, at the other end of the yard, saw him extract from the same hole where he himself had been digging, a fine juicy chicken-bone, that almost made his mouth water. Now that young Shep's studies are nearly completed, old Shep is kept much of the time chained up in the dark recesses of the fold, and it is indeed a pitiable sight to see the noble old fellow as he sits with watery eyes and looks up wistfully in the shepherd's face in hopes he will relent and let him go out once more with the sheep and watch them as they clip the sprouting herbage on the neighboring hill-sides. But the fact is, old Shep is very deaf, and all his faculties are waning, for he is eighteen years of age. "E's studied o'er mickle," says the shepherd. "'E's a'most wore out 'is mind, an' nocht will do 'im now but to wa' till it 's a' over an' 'e 's na moor." That's it. The faithful old collie has done his Hung o'er his hurdies wi' a swirl."* This is Burns's description of the mountain collie in the "Twa Dogs," and a faithful picture also of old Shep, of the Central Park sheep-fold. * Gask, shrewd; tyke, dog; lap, leaped; sheugh, ditch; sonsie, good-natured; baws'nt, brindled; ilka, every; touzie, shaggy; gaucy, big; hurdies, hips. SWEET PEAS. BY SUSAN HARTLEY SWETT. OH, what is the use of such pretty wings If one never, never can fly? — With a perfume sweet as the lilies keep The brown bees go humming aloft; The butterfly blows like the leaf of a rose, While you peep over the garden wall, Are you tired of the company Of the balsams so dull and proud? How you flutter, and reach, and climb! Aye turned to the light till the blind old night Well, it surely is hard to feel one's wings, "Tweet, tweet," then says Parson Thrush, Who is preaching up in a tree; "Though you never may fly while the world goes by, "For often, I know, to the souls that aspire Comes something better than their desire!" "BIG brothers are awful! I never saw anything like it! They wont ever tell anybody anything that a body wants to know," Alice groaned, looking up at her big brother, a handsome boy of fifteen. "Professor Knox thought so this Alice. He agreed with you entirely. the asses' bridge and could n't get off." "I don't care about the bridge. know about that pin, and you wont tell. if you chose, I know." morning, I stuck on I want to You could, I "Not if I'm to remain a gentleman, Ally. am pledged to secrecy, and honorable people don't break promises." "Pledged to secrecy!" Alice repeated, as George walked away in a stately manner. "I like the sound of that. I don't see why I could n't be pledged to something, too. I don't see why we girls should n't keep things, too. George loves to say that we tell everything. I don't." Alice set her pretty lips firmly, as she walked toward school. Just before her were two or three others, belonging to the same class, talking very rapidly and gesticulating with books and sandwichboxes. "People will think you 're impolite, girls, to be talking so loud in the street," she said, as they waited for her to come up. "I don't intend to trouble myself much about manners yet awhile," returned Jessie Kimball, sending her box into the air and catching it as it fell. "Time enough to be prim, by and by." "I should think you did n't," Gussie Sanborn's quiet little voice broke in. "I can't get a word in edgewise. I've been trying to tell you about Charley Camp and how he fell into the bath-tub, ever since we started, and it's no use at all. There ought to be a law that people should n't interrupt." "Oh, bother!" said Jessie. "Who cares, when every one does interrupt, sometimes?" "Now, I'll tell you, girls, I know about Madame Récamier," said Gussie; "for they were all talking about her the other night, and they said that though she was one of the best talkers that ever lived, she was just as good a listener; and then Father said that to listen well was one of the lost arts. Mr. Strousby said it was an American vice for all to talk at once, and he doubted if any one of us who were then conversing had heard what any one of the others had said during the five minutes before. He said ministers were the only persons who had a fair chance now-a-days." "There was one good listener there, anyhow," said Alice, "and her name was Gussie Sanborn. Now, girls, I have a plan. I think we are often rude and impolite, and I 've thought of a way to stop it. There is n't time to tell you now, but please all come up into the north recitation room at recess; and I tell you what, I think it will be real fun,- for every one of us!" "Every one" included seven little girls, who, when the bell was touched for recess, rushed up the stairs and shut the door of the recitation room with a bang. Alice looked about dubiously, not feeling quite sure of her ground. "It's something more than just about being polite," she said. "It's something you 're not to tell, and you must all promise you'll not tell, before I begin. Anyhow, we must n't tell anybody but our mothers, and I'm not positively certain yet about them, unless they promise not to tell anybody else. Now, who promises?" in this way: You know our beads that we 're making purses with? Well, we'll make strings of the very lightest ones, all white or blue or yellow, and every girl that is impolite shall have a black bead added to hers. The president will have to string the beads, and keep count of all the different errors; and the one that has fewest black beads at the end of the week shall be the president for the next week. We must take account of all kinds of impoliteness: Interrupting; and talking too loud; and banging doors; and crowding; and putting on airs; and eating our lunches too fast, and everything. But I don't think the president could stand it for more than a week, having to watch all the time, you know." 66 - "You'll have to be the first president," said Jessie, "because you know all about it; but how will you remember all the times we are impolite?" "Put 'em down," said Alice, briskly. 'The president must have a little blank-book with all the names, and every Saturday she must foot up the accounts, and get the strings ready. We take them off Friday before we go home, and put them on again Monday, and we must all help pay for the beads." "Oh, wont it be fine?" said Jessie. shall we begin?” "When and yet we've all promised. I'm afraid my string will be all black." "Now," said Alice, as the bell rang again, "I shall not tell any of you about the others' black beads until Monday, and I shall put down all my own rudenesses too, and if I don't, any one can tell me of them. We are the 'S. F. B. P.,' and DON'T YOU TELL!" As the week went on Miss Christie wondered equally at the startling increase of good manners, and at the air of importance and mystery which surrounded each little girl. She wondered more on Monday morning, when the seven appeared half an hour before the usual time and gathered in a recitation room, which she was politely requested to yield to them until the bell rang. Alice locked the door, and then drew a long breath. “I'm thankful it 's Monday," she said. "Oh, such a week! I haven't had a minute's peace, watching you all, and George saw me stringing the beads and asked what they were for, and I told him they had something to do with the 'S. F. B. P.,' and now he wont let me alone at all, and is trying constantly to make me tell. Here are the seven strings in this box. Gussie, you have only four black beads. I have seven, and Rose eight, and Marion six, and Mary and Annie Robbins each five. Look at Jessie's!" Alice held up a string, an inch or two of which was in deepest mourning. "Twenty-seven, Jessie!" she said. "I don't believe it! Show me the book!" sputtered Jessie. "Twenty-seven times from Tuesday to Friday afternoon? It's no such thing, So, now!" "One for contradicting," said Alice. "Gussie has the fewest black beads, so she 's the next president, and she can put it down. Here's the book. Has any one told?" "I have n't," came from every one, with the greatest promptness. "That's right. Girls can keep things secret, even if boys think they can't. This society will teach us to hold our tongues, and not tell all we know. George is determined to find out, and so is Fred Camp, and you must take care or they will. It's very hard work not to tell things." All the older girls opened their eyes wide as the seven answered the school-bell. During the week each one had worked the four letters on card "One for you," said Alice, turning to Gussie. board, and now appeared with a string of parti"That's a taunt." Each little girl looked at the others in consternation. "We'll have to watch every word we say! exclaimed Marion Lawrence. "I never can do it; colored beads about her neck, and "S. F. B. P.” in large letters just over her heart. Miss Christie smiled, but said nothing. As the week went on, Miss Brown, the assistant teacher, said that this nonsense going on among the little ones had better "ALICE'S HEAD FELL BACK UPON GEORGE'S ARM AS HE LIFTED HER." pleaded with his cousin Gussie, shocked her by insisting that the letters meant "Society for Buying Pies," and returned each day to the charge with never-diminished energy. Bribes, threats, entreaties, all were useless. The boys grew cross over their want of success, and one rainy Satur "I'd make 'em tell, if they belonged to me," said Will Ashton, a heavy-looking boy with disagreeable eyes. "I'd listen and find out that way, or else I'd plague them till they were afraid not to tell. You can almost always scare a girl." "Let's get into their room," said Fred. "We can drop through the transom, you know, over the door in the back hall. Take the step-ladder and back right in. Keep quiet now, and we 'll astonish them." Alice and Jessie sat at their table altering strings of beads. Jessie had labored through a week of the presidency, nearly exposing the whole thing by her impetuous ways, and writing herself down oftener than any one. There was a decided improvement, however, and she held up her own string admiringly. Long ago she had bought some fat black beads, determined to get some fun out of her iniquities, and now she held them out to Alice. "Only eleven this week," she said. "I have thick black ones for pushing, and long ones for screaming, and these flat ones for interrupting, and I do believe I'm getting a great deal better." Here came a rattling against the door, and then a silence. anyhow till your mother comes. She can't scold me nor Fred. Now, will you tell?" "Never!" said Jessie, furiously, and "Never! repeated Alice. "Once! Now, again! Will you tell or wont you?" Will caught Jessie's hands and held them tight. "No," she said again, trying to pull away. "You 're a tyrant! You 're a coward! You 're as bad as Fred!" "Twice. Never mind little pet names. Now, the last time. Will you tell?" Alice looked at Jessie, but both were silent. "Into the trunk-room with them!" Will shouted, picking up Jessie as though she had been a baby. George unlocked the door, and he and Fred pulled along the struggling Alice, who, as they reached the hall, made a sudden dash for the stairs. Fred sprang forward, and accidentally slipped upon the "Go away," said Alice. "You can't come in floor in front of her, and Alice, unable to stop, now. We're busy. My goodness!" A pair of legs came through the ventilator, waved wildly for a moment, and then Fred dropped to the floor, followed by George and Will, who made low bows as they gazed upon the astonished girls. "You're mean, horrid things to come where you 're not wanted," said Jessie, pushing her book under the table-cover. "Gentlemen don't do such things. My father would n't." "Good reason why! he could n't. He'd stick on the way and wave there all day." sang Fred. "Thank you, Miss Jessie; you did n't poke it so far under but that I can get it. Now we 'll see 'Alice Benedict: Bragging, I; Interrupting, 2; Contradicting, 1. Gussie Sanborn: Airs, 1; Sulks, 1. Jessie Kimball: Pushing, 4.'" "Fred Camp, you mean boy! put it down!" cried Jessie, growing very red, and making dashes after the book, which Fred held high over his head. "Look here, Jessie," said Fred, when after a long chase about the room she and Alice sank down panting. "It's no use now. We have the book, and we 're going to keep it, too, unless you will tell what it all means. We'll have the beads too, and any other little thing we like." "I'll tell Mother," said Alice, making a dash toward the door. "Easy, now," said George, holding her back. "Mother wont be back till three, for she 's up at Aunt Myra's. You may scream to Hannah or Mary if you like, but I guess I can manage them. You sha'n't come down to lunch, if you don't tell.” "I can call fast enough," said Alice. "Call away," said Will; "We'll give you three chances to tell, and then if you wont we 'll put you in the trunk-room and keep you there, tripped over his foot, and fell down the stairs, catching at the banisters, and lying at last in a little heap at the bottom. Will dropped Jessie, who flew at him like a little tiger, and then rushed down after George. Alice's head fell back upon George's arm as he lifted her. "She's dead," he said, looking up with a pale face. "She's dead, and we have killed her!" Will looked at her a moment, then snatched his cap and ran out at the front door, saying, “I did n't do it, anyhow." The two servants had come as the sound of the fall reached them, and with a storm of words at the two boys, they carried Alice to her room and laid her on the bed. Fred ran for a doctor, and George for his mother, while poor Jessie sat by and cried. "She's dead! she's dead. Oh, wurra! wurra!" moaned Mary. "Niver a bit," said Hannah, who had been chafing Alice's hands and moistening her head, which was badly bruised. "See, now; the darlint is comin' to herself." Alice opened her eyes, feebly at first, then brightly as usual, and sat up. "I thought I was dead," she said, "but I'm only stiff a little. I did n't tell, did I?" "No, you did n't, you darling!" said Jessie, flinging her arms around her. "I was just going to though for a minute, when that awful Will got hold of me. I never thought George and Fred were such horrid boys." Half an hour later, when Mrs. Benedict came in pale and quiet, not knowing what she might find, while George, utterly miserable, followed her, hardly daring to look up, Alice threw her arms about her |