decree, would fain have supplemented it with another, to the effect that their walk should always bring them along Madden's Lane, where some of her friends lived.

On their first few walks she met with no opposition to her wishes. Mac, knowing but little about the neighborhood, had no choice of routes, and was content to amuse himself with his shaggy-coated, small terrier, Gaby; while Kate's large flowery hat bobbed in deep conference with emerging shawled heads, or vanished altogether for a few minutes, diving into shadows beneath a shock of thatch and wavering blue smoke plume.

One morning, when they were on their way home, and had come near the corner of the road, which was only a hundred yards or so from his great-grandmother's gate, Mac made a very dreadful discovery..

He happened to glance at the top of the wall by which they were passing. A high old stone wall it was; three, or perhaps four times the height of Mac himself - yet over it he saw projecting the heads of two cows and a sorrel pony gazing down calmly into the road. The sight filled him with dismay; in fact, he was almost startled into betraying horrified surprise.

'My goodness, Kate!" he began, forgetting his dignity so far as to pull the fringe of her amber-bordered brown shawl.

"What ails you at all, Master Mac?" Kate said, recalled from some rather far-off meditations of her own. However, he recovered his self-possession in time.

"Nothing ails anybody,” he replied stiffly. “I was

only wondering why they can't find something better to do than to stand there gaping at everybody who passes along the road, which is no concern of theirs."

"Ah, the creatures!" said Kate.

What had really surprised the boy was the thought of the great size of the beasts to whom the prying eyes belonged.

"They must be very, very tall," thought Mac, "for how otherwise could they look over that immense wall, as high nearly as the house?" Mac had never heard of the giant Og, and he knew naught of big storks wading with long, long legs; which was doubtless well for his peace of mind. Even as it was, he stood gravely aghast. Towards all animals his sentiments had hitherto been most friendly and fearless; but could it be possible that the horses and cattle had stalking among them creatures so large and unsightly?

The fact could not be doubted. When he passed that way, he usually saw the row of heads ranged far above his own, some with horns and more with only twitching ears.

Mac wondered whether it was their legs or their necks, or both, that were stretched out to such a great length. He felt that in any case they must be hideous to behold, and he shuddered at the notion of what shapes that high stone wall must screen. Once, indeed, he fancied that he caught a glimpse of something like the head of what ought to have been a very little girl appear ng over the edge in a flappy white sunbonnet; but the figure which this compelled him to imagine was so monstrous that he hastily

turned his eyes away and tried to persuade himself that they had deceived him.

Of course, he mentioned the matter to nobody. Selfrespecting children never do confide their haunting terrors to older people who may laugh at them. No chance of gaining protection and deliverance from the torment of fear can justify one in running the risk of appearing ignorantly ridiculous to those who seem to know all about everything.

Once Mac asked a question, hoping to learn something about the large animals. He remarked to Tim Brennan, the coachman, as they were driving over Clonmanavon Bridge - he had only just forgiven Tim's offer to let him hold the end of the reins "I suppose, now, you never see cows walking about here who are so tall they couldn't fit under that arch?"

Unluckily, Tim took the question as a sort of challenge, and replied: "Well, sir, I wouldn't say that the most we keep hereabouts couldn't make a shift to get through it middling easy. Not but I've seen an odd one now and then that might be very apt to stick half way, unless they were after taking a bit off the horns of her ay, she would SO. We've plenty of powerful cattle in Clonmanavon.”

This answer gave cold comfort to Mac, who had hoped to be told that enormously large quadrupeds were rare in the neighborhood, or, at least, were exclusively confined to the one place which he called in his own mind, "The Field of the Frightful Beasts.' Now, how was he to know but that frightful beasts were on every street. So great was

his fear of meeting such animals that even Kate Heron noticed the difference in him, and also, that for some reason he would not walk down Madden's Lane — the road by the stone wall.

One day Mac heard Kate and Lizzie Egan, a neighbor's maid, talking about him. Kate remarked that he did not want to go down' that road. She said: "Pitchforks wouldn't get him along that road. Nothing will suit him but streeling up the lanes at the back of the house."

"He's frightened of Molloy's big dog the one below at the Bridge, that comes out barking and bouncing around. That's his trouble, you may be sure," said Lizzie.

Mac, who had overheard them, was indignant. Afraid of a barking dog! Indeed, he'd let them see he was not afraid of dogs. But how could he show them he had no fear of Molloy's dog without going by the "Field of the Frightful Beasts"?

Next morning Mac made an important announcement on the door-steps. "Gaby's to choose where we are to walk to-day," he said. "You see, Kate, it's only a quarter as much our walk as his, because he goes it on four legs and each of us on only two. We'll just watch which way

he'll turn."

When the three reached the gate, Mac suddenly picked up a pebble and flung it as far as he could towards Crumloughlin, the direction opposite to Madden's Lane. Of course, Gaby needed no bidding to be off after the pebble. Mac said: "There, you see he wants to go this way," and

set forward with the air of one acting from a strong sense of duty.

Kate had noticed what took Gaby on that road, and mentioned the pebble; but Mac said: "I promised poor Gaby we'd go wherever he liked, so I wouldn't disappoint him now on any account."

But the next morning Mac decided to go walking without Kate Heron. Before she had finished her sweeping, he and Gaby went quietly out of the house together. Soon a fawn-colored, sharp-nosed collie led Gaby round a corner and into an open field. Mac had to follow in order to rescue Gaby.

It was a place in which he had never been before, and his route thence seemed by no means clear to him. After walking around after Gaby and watching him trying to catch a rabbit, he talked a while with a young man who was loitering in the field.

When he thought it time to go home, Gaby was missing, and in searching for the dog Mac made another discovery. Close by, a little knot of beasts were standing with their heads over the wall! There were two or three cows, and a sorrel pony, with a white streak on his face. All seemed unpleasantly familiar to him. Where had he seen the pony before? Why, looking over a wall just like this one. But was that not the wall of the "Field of the Frightful Beasts"? Could it be possible that he was actually

inside it?

"And I declare to goodness," Mac said to himself, "we used to be passing that stone with the steps — and