eyes riveted upon the track

kept his that apparently endless double ribbon of steel gleaming in the sunlight, which was ever slipping away, yet ever uncoiled itse.f anew before him like a glittering serpent. Conversation was difficult, and carried on in snatches; then neither of the men spoke for some time. Suddenly, just after the train had wound around a curve, a cry of horror broke from the engineer; and, turning to his fireman, he exclaimed:

"Ben, what is that?"

His companion looked out. Upon the track, a short distance in front of them, was a little object, flitting along as if it had the world to itself, and there were no such things as snorting and ruthless iron monsters to invade its paradise

"Quick, man!—for God's sake!" cried Ben. "It is a child!"

No need of the warning. Hoey had already done everything he could to stop the train. But they had been tearing along with such rapidity, and the engine had such a head of steam on, that his efforts only served to slightly decrease the speed. Now they could plainly distinguish the child; a little girl, scarcely more than a baby; bareheaded, with sunny hair, and wearing a blue-checked apron, which fluttered in the breeze. Unconscious of peril, she danced along, waving her tiny hands in glee, just for the very joy and gladsomeness of living. And here was Death coming swiftly, nearer and nearer! Each ripple of laughter, each note of the song she seemed to be singing to herself, might be her last; and yet, unconscious, she laughed and sang.

Hoey worked desperately at the lever, and gave the signal for "down brakes," but, alas! there was hardly time. Engineers often tell of instances where the engine, senseless and soulless mass of machinery as it is, becomes uncontrollable, like a living creature intent upon a diabolical purpose of its own. In this instance, do what he would, it kept on its relentless course — a fiery dragon that would not be deprived of its prey.

For an older person there might be some hope: he might look back or hear the noise of the train at the last moment; but the child frolicked on in merry abandon. The engineer turned despairingly to his comrade. In an instant Ben had leaped from the cab, fallen, recovered himself, and sped like a deer on beside the train. A race with a locomotive? A vain contest, it would seem; yet the fleet fellow kept up, lost a pace, regained it, was now actually ahead. He sprang in front of the engine - alas, too late!

O God!" groaned the engineer, more in petition than fear. He drew back and shut his eyes, lest he should see not only the life of the beautiful little child crushed out, but also that of his friend noble, heroic Ben. In his heart he already felt the dreadful shock which he knew would in reality be scarcely perceptible; hardly more than the resistance of the flowers and sturdy grass of the fields before the scythe. It did not come! How could it be possible? Instead, he heard a cheer! Again he thrust his head out of the window. Could he believe his sight? There was Ben alive and unscathed! - Ben, with the child

in his arms! At last the engine came to a stop about a hundred yards farther along.

A woman was seen rushing from the direction of a house near the railroad. Half crazed, she had seen the danger of her little one, while powerless to avert it. Then she beheld the brave man's effort to snatch the child from the very jaws of death, if need be, to purchase its life with his own. At the supreme moment she was stricken with a sudden blindness; she reeled, and would have lost consciousness but for that quick shout of joy.

What! Saved? Marvelous! Could she credit the assurance of that call? Or was it a delusion - a knell in her ears, which took on a glad ring to mock her? The blessed doubt gave her renewed strength, however. She almost flew to the spot. The Lord be praised! It was true. The child, who had clung to Ben, half dazed with fright, now began to cry piteously. The mother caught it in a frantic embrace, murmuring a few broken words of fervent gratitude to its brave deliverer, and then sank swooning to the ground.

Several laborers in a field beyond, who had also witnessed the intrepid rescue, hastened to the scene. Car windows were raised, and nervous passengers inquired why the train had come to a standstill. When the reason for the commotion became known, what a thrill of feeling it caused! What a cheer went up for the brave fireman! Many were eager to make a handsome purse for him then and there. But Ben said:

"No, thank you, sirs! A hundred thousand dollars

wouldn't have paid me for throwing my life away, or that mother for the loss of her baby. But my own life and the child's have been, as I might say, given back, thank God! And that's the only reward I want.”

With these words Ben turned away, drew his gingham shirt sleeve across his grimy brow, and sprang to his place upon the engine. The engineer sounded the whistle, the passengers scrambled into the cars again, and the train sped on.

De lu'sion (shun): a misleading of the mind. Hair breadth: a narrow escape. In trep'id: fearless. Red'ō lent: sweet smelling, fraRé sist'ance (ăns): opposition. Riv'ět ěd: to look closely at one thing. Schedule: a list of directions. Un scathed (skāthd): not

grant.

hurt.

THE THREE HEAVY STONES.

It was on the border of the desert, amid barren and almost inaccessible rocks, that Ben Achmet, the Dervise, led a life of austerity and devotion. His dwelling was a cave in one of the large rocks. Roots and fruits, the scanty products of the sterile region he inhabited, satisfied his hunger; and the fountain that bubbled up from the lower part of a neighboring cliff, slaked his thirst.

He had formerly been a Mohammedan priest, and had served in a magnificent mosque. He became disgusted with the hypocrisy and injustice of the world, and finally abandoned the mosque and his luxurious home, and chose, instead, a life of self-denial and devotion.

Years rolled over the head of Ben Achmet and the fame of his sanctity spread abroad. He often supplied the traveler of the desert with water from his little well. In times of pestilence he left his solitary abode to attend to the sick and to comfort the dying in villages that were scattered around in the bleak country bordering on the desert. The wounded Arab went to him as to a father, knowing that his wounds would be dressed with healing herbs. The name of Ben Achmet was honored, and the plundering Bedouin gave up his booty when the holy man commanded him to.

Akaba, an Arabian robber, was the leader of a band of lawless men who were obedient to their chief. He had a large treasure-house stored with ill-gotten wealth and a large number of prisoners. The fame of Ben Achmet's sanctity was whispered to the robber chief. His own guilty conscience smote him, and he longed to become as famed for his devotion as he had been for his crimes.

He sought the abode of the Dervise and told him his desires. "Ben Achmet," said he, "I have five hundred cimeters ready to obey me, numbers of slaves at my command, and a goodly treasure-house filled with riches; tell me how to add to these the hope of a happy immortality."

Ben Achmet led him to a neighboring cliff that was steep, rugged, and high, and pointing to three large stones that lay near together, he told him to lift them from the ground, and to follow him up the cliff. Akaba, laden with stones, could scarcely move; to ascend the cliff with them was impossible.