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MASTER HYRAX.

BY HENRIETTA H. HOLDICH.

UNCLE JOE was taking a nap in the big easychair. Of course, he was taking a nap; for, first, he had shut his eyes, and then he had put a newspaper before his face, and then he had begun to snore. He had stopped snoring now, but the newspaper was there still, and he did not stir.

Harold and Violet were playing in the corner. What were they playing? What do children play? It is so long since I was a child that I am quite puzzled. All I know is that Violet had her doll, a fine French lady, dressed in her best walking suit, with gloves, and hat, and parasol, and veil all complete, and a tiny basket on her arm, besides. Violet had a basket on her arm, too; and Harold Ah, yes, I see now. That must have been it. Harold had laid a board across two chairs, and on it he was arranging all kinds of things-a doll's shoe, a heap of little pebbles, another of grains of corn, a few shells, a ball. Now you know, don't you? They were playing store, and very nice it is. Presently, Harold had an idea.

"Violet," he said, "we have n't got half enough money here. People in business need lots of money, you know. Just you go upstairs and bring down the box of make-believe money, that 's a good girl. And, while you are about it, just run into the kitchen and bring in some coffee, and some currants, and some rice, and a few tin boxes that spices come in. Then you might bring a ball of string, and a lot of paper-oh! and Mamma's letter-scales, and a few books, and-and- Well, that 's all I think of, just now."

Violet was a good little sister, and she went off obediently. The newspaper rustled a little, and, if Harold had looked, he might have seen an eye peeping from over the edge of it; but he did n't look, not he. He was much too busy arranging his store to the best advantage.

bring, at least," said Violet, coming back with her arms full, just as Mamma went out. "There's the coffee in one paper, and the rice in another, and— oh dear! I must have dropped the currants. And there's your string, and your box of money, and a roll of paper, and three tin boxes, but I could n't bring the books, nor the letter-scales. Indeed, I could n't carry any more, Harold."

"Just the way," grumbled Harold again. “I never saw anything like it. Nobody ever can do what I want. They forget,' or 'can't bring 'em,' or something. Just you trot upstairs again, now, and bring down those books. Any old ones will do. I want them for shelves. And, while you 're about it, bring my little express wagon, and "Harold!"

It was Uncle Joe who spoke. The newspaper was off his head, now, and he was sitting up and looking at the children. "Harold, do you know why the hyrax is without a tail?"

Harold thought it was a very queer question, but he did n't say so. Uncle Joe usually meant something by his questions, and probably this one had a meaning.

“What 's a hyrax?" asked Violet. "A little animal something like a rabbit,” said Uncle Joe. "Come here, and I'll tell you

about it."

"But Harold wants his things," said Violet, hesitating.

"Never mind about Harold's things, just yet," said Uncle Joe. "They can wait; but I'm in a story-telling humor, and that can't wait. Jump up on my knee. So! Harold, too. Now, then! "Once upon a time, there was a commotion in the Animal Kingdom. The world was not very old then, not even old enough to be quite finished off. Nobody knew that, though, until, on a certain

Just then, the door-bell rang, and Harold jumped day, the King of the Beasts issued a proclamation. up.

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What's a proclamation? Well, a notice, then. He sent word to all his faithful subjects that if, upon a certain day, they would repair to his court, they would be handsomely finished off.

"Finished off'? said the beasts. 'Why, we are finished off. What more do we want? We have teeth and eyes and ears and paws. A tail? What do we want with a tail? You can't eat with a tail, nor see, nor hear, with a tail, can you? Then, what 's the good of a tail?'

"Just then a fly stung Goodman Ox on the side. He leaped about a foot into the air, but the fly still

stuck and stung. He tried to brush it off with his foot, but his leg was too stiff.

"Oho!' said Goodman Ox. 'Now I see the good of a tail-a nice, long, slender tail, with a brush at the end. Ah, yes! The king may make his mind easy. I shall be sure to be there.'

"And so said all the beasts; but nobody was as anxious as Master Hyrax. Day and night he thought about this wonderful tail. What kind would it be? Would it be fitted to him without a question, or would he be allowed to choose? And, if so, what should he choose? Should it be long or short, stumpy or tapering, straight or curly, feathery or compact? At last he made up his mind. He would have a long, feathery tail, with a graceful curve in it. Yes, that would suit him

"Well, I don't mind,' said Lord Lion; 'your tail wont be much of a load.'

"So Master Hyrax gnawed a bit of fur from his breast, and Lord Lion took it and went his way. "Just as he was out of sight, Squire Wolf came along.

"It's as well to be on the safe side,' thought Master Hyrax; 'perhaps Lord Lion may forget.' "So he asked Squire Wolf, and Squire Wolf promised, and took a bit of fur to match, and went off. Then came Mistress Cat and Sir Fox, and Mr. Rat and Sir Dog, and Gaffer Bear and Gammer Beaver, and ever so many others. Every one of them Master Hyrax stopped, and to each he gave a bit of his fur, and each promised to bring back a tail to match it.

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best, he was sure. Then, having made up his mind, he was quite contented.

"Now, if there was one thing Master Hyrax hated more than another, it was bad weather. He never went out in the cold, nor in the rain, but behold! when the great day came, it was cold and rainy both. What was Master Hyrax to do? He thought and thought, and at last he had a bright idea.

He lay down at the door of his house, and waited for the animals to pass by on their way to court. First came Lord Lion.

"Oh, Lord Lion! good Lord Lion!' cried Master Hyrax; 'when you go to get your tail, will you ask for mine, too?-a fine, feathery one, not too curly, but just with a graceful curve in it, if you please. I will give you a bit of my fur to match, and it wont be much trouble for you.'

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"I only hope I shall not have so many tails that I shall not know what to do with them all,' said Master Hyrax.

"On the whole, he felt quite comfortable, although he had given away so many bits of fur that his breast was bare.

"But that does n't matter,' he thought; 'it will grow again; and what a fine, useful thing a tail will be. Better have six than none.'

"So, then, Master Hyrax went into his house, and curled himself up to sleep until his messengers should come back.

"Lord Lion was the first to come, as he had been the first to go; and Master Hyrax crawled out to meet him.

"Dear Lord Lion,' said Master Hyrax, 'did you bring my tail?'

"Lord Lion stopped, and looked down at him. "Your tail?' he said; how could I remember anything about your miserable little tail?' And he sauntered off, lashing his own fine, new tail. "Then came Mistress Cat.

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"Good Mistress Cat, did you bring my tail?' "No, indeed,' said Mistress Cat. It is all I can do to carry back the tails for my six kittens, who were not big enough to go for their own.' "Hyrax sighed, but he was not discouraged. "Did you bring my tail, Sir Fox?' he asked of the next, but Sir Fox sniffed and said:

"I had work enough to get my own, without thinking of yours. They wanted to palm off a miserable, skinny thing on me, instead of the fine brush that I had set my heart upon. I got it at last, though, in spite of them; and Mr. Rat has the one they meant for me.'

"Mr. Rat, who came next, was in such a bad humor that he would not even answer Master Hyrax's question; but it was evident that he had no tail about him, excepting his own. Master Hyrax staid at his post until midnight, but not an animal

had remembered him. Sir Dog had lost the bit of fur and had felt afraid that if he should bring a tail it would not match. Gammer Beaver had had all she could do to carry the broad article which had fallen to her share, and Gaffer Bear was so indignant when he found that Master Hyrax had asked all the rest of the animals, instead of trusting to him alone, that he would not even look at him.

"Selfish, lazy creatures!' said Master Hyrax, as he crept to his bed. 'That is the way they always serve me. I shall have to go myself, after all.' "But, the next day, the court was closed. The tails had all been given out. And that is why the hyrax has no tail to this very day."

Violet laughed at the story, and pitied the woes of the poor hyrax, but Harold sat still for a while. Then he slipped down from Uncle Joe's lap.

"Come upstairs, Violet," he said, "and I'll help you bring down the rest of the things. Or, if you don't want to go, I'll bring them myself. When we 're through playing, I'll go over to Cousin Clara's and get the book I want. I'm not going to be Master Hyrax any longer."

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THE second week in May, as to wind and sun, seemed especially prepared with reference to the "kite fever." Andy Wright was the only member of Mr. Hayne's school who, before the end of the fever, had not been seen with a string in his hand, looking up at something in the air, or running like mad to “give her a good start.”

On Friday afternoon, however, Charley Ferris remarked to Will Torrance: "What do you say, now, about to-morrow?-kites, or the Ramblers? I shall ramble, anyhow!"

"Well," said Charley, "I've left my kite halfway up the Presbyterian church steeple, so I'll go with you."

Joe Martin had not yet caught the kite fever, and Otis Burr had been reading an article on geology, so they two agreed to join, but Jeff Carroll refused, point blank.

"I don't mind a gun," he said, "if I can have another fellow along to carry it and do the loading, but I 've a prejudice against breaking stone. State-prison work."

It's

All others were equally beyond persuading, and within an hour after their Saturday breakfast, the self-selected four stone-breakers were pushing along the old South road, up the beautiful valley at the foot of which lay Saltillo.

There were four hammers among them, of course, but no two were alike, and Charley Ferris was especially proud of his own. It was a regular long-handled "stone-hammer," just the thing for breaking curious rocks, but it could not be carried in his pocket.

Will Torrance had intended to take a bag, to hold his prizes, but Otis Burr had persuaded him to leave it at home.

"If you want to know how it will be," said Otis, "tumble a few hatfuls of gravel into it, now, and carry it around the square. That'll teach you. Stones weigh something, nowadays."

Joe Martin was the first man to win a prize, right in the middle of the road.

"Rock!" said Otis; "that is n't a rock-that 's an oyster-shell."

"I can't help that," said Joe; "we must take Mr. Hayne a specimen of everything we find."

"Look here, then," retorted Otis, "there's a

big stone house, over yonder. We must all go and take a clip at it."

"How do you know it's a stone house?" "Can't I see?"

"No, you can't tell at this distance. Besides, it is n't in our way

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"Here's another, then," shouted Charley. “If a brick is n't as good as an oyster-shell, I 'd like to know why."

"Every one of us must have a piece. If Mr. Hayne can tell us what kind of rock it is, let him do it. That's all."

There were no rocks to speak of until, about three miles south of the city, Will Torrance said to his companions:

"Now, boys, for the hills! Over there's the Glen!"

66 'What 's that?" asked Otis. "A big crack in the hill. There is no end of rocks, and for a picnic.”

I've been there. it is a great place

Over the fence they went; but Joe Martin stopped them, saying: "It's a stone-fence, boys; we must hammer into it."

And, according to the rule, the stone-fence had to suffer a little.

Otis Burr was the only one to secure any sort of a prize from it; but he actually knocked out a beautiful little "fossil" from a piece of gray limestone.

"Hayne will call that by some big name or other. I believe it's a trilobite."

"Bite what?" asked Charley.

At that moment something like an answer came from the field behind them,—a deep, low-pitched voice, with a little something in it to remind a man of very distant thunder.

"Hello!" said Otis, "what 's that?"

Nothing but a bull," replied Joe Martin. "I don't care to try for a specimen of him.”

They had walked on across the field while they were examining that fossil, and were at quite a distance from the fence they had pounded when the bull undertook to speak to them.

"Boys," said Charley, turning about, "he 's shaking his head."

"It sounds as if he were trying to scold us, too,” said Otis. "That next fence is our best chance for rocks just now."

“Had n't we better go back?"

"No, Charley," said Will; "but we 'd better do

the fastest kind of rambling. Run! - before he comes for us!"

It was time to start, if they meant to do that, for the bull was beginning to trot, and the Club unanimously declared that he was growing larger. Angrier he certainly was, for Otis Burr had, unthinkingly, taken a red silk handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the perspiration from his face, and any bull alive would have taken offense at that. On he came, and on ahead of him went the Ramblers' Club!

At first they stuck together pretty well, but the taller boys were the better runners, and poor Charley Ferris shortly began to fall behind.

Bellow after bellow, deep and thunderous, reached his ears from the throat of his offended pursuer, and the situation looked more than a little serious. What could a boy of thirteen, with nothing but a long-handled stone-hammer, do against a bull like that? Not a great deal, certainly, and the other three would need all the legs they had, with none to spare for him. They were good fellows, however, and the thought seemed to come to all of them at once that they must not abandon Charley.

"Come on," shouted Will. way, now."

"It's only a little

"I say, boys," suddenly exclaimed Otis Burr. "We 're done for."

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"Quick, Charley, give me your stone-hammer!" shouted Otis Burr. "I understand cattle. rest of you make for the bridge."

But they refused to leave Otis until they should have seen the result of his daring experiment.

The bull was cooled off by his sudden bath, and when he turned around and tried to get out again, he found himself sinking and floundering in a way which could hardly have been comfortable. And that was not the worst of it, for his head no sooner came within reach than a sharp rap with a hammer came down upon his nose, a tender place with animals of his kind. It was of no use to bellow now. He was in the mud, and the red-haired boy on the bank had the long-handled hammer. Another rap, and another, in quick, severe succession, and then Otis watched him for a moment.

'Boys," he said, "don't you hear? There was sorrow and repentance in that last bellow. He wont chase any more Ramblers' Clubs to-day. He's had all he wants. We need n't run an inch. Walk right along toward the bridge."

Even a bull can understand some things. If there had been any fun for him in chasing a parcel of frightened Park boys, there was none at all in

"Look! We can't jump that. It's deep, too, standing there in cold mud and water to have his and there's no end of mud."

Between them and the friendly fence ahead, there stretched the shining water of a deep brook, which had been dug out for draining purposes and was at least twelve feet wide. Charley saw it as plainly as the rest did, but the bull seemed to have centered his wrath on the nearest invader, so the other three turned and ran for a point farther along the bank of the brook.

nose pounded. Otis was right. There was no more "follow" in that bull. Still, it had taken some pluck to use the hammer, and the Club was very proud of itself.

The little bridge was reached without delay, although the boys did not run, and the next fence was not worked for "specimens."

"It will be time enough when we get to the Glen," remarked Otis. "I stuck to my fossil.

If

All at once, Will Torrance shouted, "Bridge! we'd had many more rocks in our pockets, the There's a bridge!"

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"I'm in, Will," said Otis Burr, promptly, and Joe Martin turned in his tracks at the word, and the three faced the enemy.

But it would have gone badly with Charley if it had not been for his short legs and the hurry the bull was in. Right on the bank of the brook, with the bellowing brute hardly ten feet behind him, and galloping hard, Charley suddenly stopped. He was not a good swimmer, the brook was deep, the water was cold, he could not jump it, but he knew he was a good "dodger.”

So he stood still, faced right about, and

bull would have caught us."

"You ran splendidly, Charley," said Joe; "but it was nothing to the way you dodged."

"I had to be quick; but it was the best kind of a trap, and I 'm glad I brought that stone-hammer."

A good share of the victory over the bull did, indeed, belong to Charley, and nobody cared to dispute his title to it.

A careful look was given to the contents of that next field, and it was not unpleasant to discover that the only dangerous wild beasts in sight were a flock of sheep, who were turning what tails they had, with one accord, and running their best away from the Ramblers' Club.

It was uphill then, and into a patch of dense

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