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ot worthy of much consideration. For why shouldAristotle, because he has quoted several Dialogues of Plato, have quotedthem all? Something must be allowed to chance, and to the nature of thesubjects treated of in them.) On the other hand, Mr. Grote trusts mainlyto the Alexandrian Canon. But I hardly think that we are justified inattributing much weight to the authority of the Alexandrian librarians inan age when there was no regular publication of books, and every temptationto forge them; and

During the years he had served as master of fence at the English Court, thesons of royalty had learned to thrust and parry and cut as only De Vaccould teach the art, and he had been as conscientious in the discharge ofhis duties as he had been in his unswerving hatred and contempt for hispupils.And now the English King had put upon him such an insult as might only bewiped out by blood. As the blow fell, the wiry Frenchman clicked his heels together, andthrowing down his foil, he stood erect and

mouth and forked tongue thrust out. I painted the eyes red for anger.'There, stand so!' I said, 'and glare and hiss at my foes.' In the stern I curved the tail up almost as high as the head. There I put the pilot's seat and a strong tiller for the rudder. On the breast and sides I carved the dragon's scales. Then I painted it all black and on the tip of every scale I put gold. I called her 'Waverunner.' There she sat on the rollers, as fair a ship as I ever saw. The night that it was finished I

nt. I should say, in the neighborhood of one o'clock, but of course we can't be absolutely certain.Gaunt had approached the body, and was passing his fingers lightly and thoroughly over it. No doubt about robbery being the motive? he asked, as he worked. Oh, no, the Inspector put in, easily. No weapon found, window open, tracks before window in the carpet and on the curtains, and Mr. Appleton's jewelry and money gone. I understand. Gaunt bent and sniffed the powder-blackened shirt about the

ntry. It might, I thought, be the Happy Future, or Utopia, or the Land of Simple Dreams; an errant mote of memory, Henry James's phrase and story of The Great Good Place, twinkled across my mind, and passed and left no light.The man I saw wrote with a thing like a fountain pen, a modern touch that prohibited any historical retrospection, and as he finished each sheet, writing in an easy flowing hand, he added it to a growing pile upon a graceful little table under the window. His last done

olmasterj. Story of the Three Sisters and Their Mother theSultanah3. History of the Kazi Who Bare a Babe4. Tale of the Kazi and the Bhang-Eatera. History of the Bhang-Eater and His Wifeb. How Drummer Abu Kasim Became a Kazic. Story of the Kazi and His Slipperd. Tale of Mahmud the Persian and the Kurd Sharpere. Tale of the Sultan and the Poor Man Who Brought To HimFruitf. The Fruit-Seller's Taleg. Tale of the Sultan and His Three Sons and theEnchanting Birdh. Adventure of the Fruit-Seller and