while Violet was shaping out the image, she had given it a gentle pat with her hand, and had neglected to smooth the impression quite away.

"After all, husband," said the mother," after all, she does look strangely like a snow-image! I do believe she is made of snow!"

9. A puff of the west wind blew against the snow-child, and again she sparkled like a star.

"Snow!" repeated good Mr. Lindsey, drawing the reluctant guest over his hospitable threshold. "No wonder she looks like snow. She is half frozen, poor little thing! But a good fire will put everything to rights."

The common-sensible man placed the snow-child on the hearth rug, right in front of the hissing and fuming

stove.

"Now she will be comfortable!" cried Mr. Lindsey, rubbing his hands and looking about him, with the pleasantest smile you ever saw. "Make yourself at home, my

child."

10. Sad, sad, and drooping looked the little white maiden, as she stood on the hearth rug, with the hot blast of the stove striking through her. Once she threw a glance wistfully toward the windows, and caught a glimpse, through its red curtains, of the snow-covered roofs and the stars glimmering frostily, and all the delicious intensity of the cold night. The bleak wind rattled

the window panes, as if it were summoning her to come forth. But there stood the snow-child, drooping, before the hot stove!

But the common-sensible man saw nothing amiss.

11. "Come, wife," said he, "let her have a pair of thick stockings and a woollen shawl or blanket directly; and tell Dora to give her some warm supper as soon as the milk boils. You, Violet and Peony, amuse your little friend. She is out of spirits, you see, at finding herself in a strange place. For my part, I will go around among the neighbors and find out where she belongs."

"Husband! husband!" cried his wife, showing her horror-stricken face through the window panes. "There is no need of going for the child's parents!"

"We told you so, father!" screamed Violet and Peony, as he re-entered the parlor. "You would bring her in; and now our poor· dear-beau-ti-ful little snow sister is thawed!"

12. And their own sweet little faces were already dissolved in tears; so that their father, seeing what strange things occasionally happen in this everyday world, felt not a little anxious lest his children might be going to thaw too! In the utmost perplexity, he demanded an explanation of his wife.

She could only reply that, being summoned to the parlor by the cries of Violet and Peony, she found no trace of

the little white maiden, unless it were the remains of a heap of snow, which, while she was gazing at it, melted quite away upon the hearth rug.

13. "And there you see all that is left of it!" added she, pointing to a pool of water in front of the stove.

66

Yes, father," said Violet, looking reproachfully at him, through her tears, "there is all that is left of our dear little snow sister!"

And the Heidenberg stove, through the isinglass of its door, seemed to glare at good Mr. Lindsey, like a redeyed demon, triumphing in the mischief which it had done!

A BRAVE BOY.

BY THOMAS NELSON PAGE.

From "Two Little Confederates." Copyright, 1888, by Charles Scribner's Sons.

THOMAS NELSON PAGE, a descendant of General Nelson, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, was born at Oakland, Va., in 1853. The land on which the home of his boyhood stood had been granted to General Nelson by King George of England. The house was situated at the meeting of two roads that lead to Richmond. During the war these roads were the highways of two armies.

The boy was taught at home by his aunt and father. He had a remarkable memory and was very quick at figures.

He and his brothers played about his father's plantation. They liked to spend their evenings in the log cabins, listening to the

weird tales told by the colored people, while the burning pine knot. made strange shadows on the cabin walls.

When the war broke out, the army of North Virginia camped

for two winters near the plantation. The

boys saw a great deal of camp life, and listened to war stories without end.

In 1868 the future author went to Washington College, and while there wrote for the college paper. He afterwards taught school, and then studied law at the University of Virginia, where he was graduated with honor at the end. of one year.

The many tales heard in his boyhood and the pictures of plantation life began

to weave themselves into stories. It

was some time before he was able to find a publisher; but his talent was finally recognized, and now his tales of the South are very popular. Whether drawn from the mansion house or the cabin, they are filled with humor, pathos, and feeling.

MR. PAGE'S "Two Little Confederates," from which the following selection has been taken, is a story of the war, full of stirring incidents. Frank and Willie were the "Two Little Confederates." They had an older brother in the Confederate Army, and he and his General were hiding in a cave while the Union soldiers were hunting for them. The two boys had been to carry some food

to them.

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(s)

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1. AFTER crossing the gully and walking on through the woods for what they thought a safe distance, they turned into the path. They were talking very merrily about the General and Hugh and their friend Mills, and were discussing some romantic plan for the recapture of their horses from the enemy, when they came out of the path into a road, and found themselves within twenty yards of a group of Federal soldiers, quietly sitting on their horses, evidently guarding the road.

2. The sight of the blue coats made the boys jump. They would have crept back, but it was too latethey caught the eye of the man nearest them. They ceased talking as suddenly as birds in the tree stop chirping when the hawk sails over; and when one Yankee called to them, in a stern tone, "Halt there!" and started to come toward them, their hearts were in their mouths.

"Where are you boys going?" he asked, as he came up to them.

"Going home.".

66

Where do you belong?'

"Over there

at Oakland," pointing in the direction of their home, which seemed suddenly to have moved a

thousand miles away.

"Where have you been?" The other soldiers had come up now.