they took to be my accomplice, and the horse he had, which was our Dandy, they may help me now as much as they have hindered me before." The eldest of the brothers thereupon endeavored to atone for the unintentional wrong they had done their late captive, by giving a true account of their adventure with Branlow the night before. "After we heard that he and you had been seen together, we believed that he was aiding and abetting you; but we did n't follow him up. We left that for a policeman to do, while we made haste to hire another horse and get on the track of ours. When we last saw your man, he was going off in a buggy with the driver, who had bought your horse, leading it by a halter to make a bill of sale of it, they said." Kit took the name of the policeman, who, he was told, would probably be on duty that afternoon, near the fair-ground entrance. He also asked if Mr. Benting would have any objection to giving him a line over his signature, stating that his horse, supposed to be stolen, had been returned, having been taken by mistake. "What do you want to do with such a writing as that?" Mr. Benting asked, more and more pleased with the boy's modest manners, intelligence, and apparently honest intentions. "I want it to show, if there should be danger of my being taken up a second time for the same imaginary offense," Kit answered, with shrewd goodhumor. "Your policeman will probably recognize me before I can explain myself; and he may clap me into jail without believing a word of my story." "I'll make that all right,” said his new friend. Mr. Benting borrowed the judge's pen (the judge had already escaped and gone to his roast beef), and wrote a paper, which he handed Kit, saying: "There! I think that will keep you out of any more such tangles. I hope you will find your horse, and give us a call on your way back, or whenever you come this way again." He gave Kit his hand, with a pressure of the most cordial interest and good-will. Then Tom stepped up, and said: "There's a man out here who lives two or three miles away, on the road to Peaceville. He is just going to start for home, and I think he will give this boy a ride. Suppose you speak to him, Father.” The man, appealed to by the elder Benting, readily consented; and Kit climbed into his wagon, thankful enough for his release from court and constable, and for this piece of good luck. The brothers said good-bye to him in quite friendly fashion; and Lon begged his pardon for what he was now well convinced had been a blunder on their part. "It's a blunder all around!" laughed Kit. "And a fellow that can make blunders as fast as I do, ought not to be very severe on others' mistakes." Father and sons stood watching him as he rode away. "If we had n't sent your hired horse back to Peaceville this morning," Mr. Benting remarked, "he might have had him to ride. It would have been just the thing for him." That reminded Lon of something. "Ho! hallo!" he called after Kit. "How about your saddle and bridle ?” Everybody had forgotten these until that moment. "Keep 'em till I come for them," Kit answered, looking back regretfully at the tall farmer standing with his sons, and remembering the invitation he had declined,- -an invitation which might have taken him back to Maple Park and the friendly Elsie. So they returned home without him, and Charley teased his sister with half the truth, as we have seen; and her father told the rest. "The judge did commit him to jail, my dear; but luckily I was there to offer bail for him before he was locked up. And it is true,-I had only to look at him to see the kind of character he is. But it would be better for the boys to say they have come around to my opinion, than that I think as they do about him. They think very differently now from the way they thought at first. You were quite right, Elsie, and they were quite wrong, or I am no judge of an honest boy." So saying, Mr. Benting stepped from the buggy. “And you have let him go free?" said the delighted Elsie. "I suppose it will amount to that," replied her father, "although he is under bonds to appear again if the court wants him." "Now why don't you 'crow' over us, Elsie? laughed Charley. But Elsie, too deeply grateful for Kit's vindication and release, to think of her own triumph, had no wish to "crow." (To be continued.) BATHMENDI. (From the French of Florian.) BY H. H. (HELEN JACKSON). ONCE on a time, in Kousistan, a Genie lived, whose name Was Alzim: Money free he gave, and help to all who came; But first each man must promise the Genie to obey; To use the gifts and seek his wealth precisely in the way The Genie said. No one could kneel before the Genie's throne Until he swore his life should be controlled by him alone. There came to him, one day, four sons, whose father, when he died, As they, grief-stricken, knelt by him,-with his last breath had cried: "The Genie Alzim will befriend you. Go at once to him. Beware, however," Here he paused; his eye grew glazed and The hand of death his loving lips What warning he had meant to Not so the youngest, Täi. He re- That all his life his father seemed Now this was what the Genie said, Now I, because I love you well, will whisper unto each The road, by following which, he will Bathmendi surely reach." To Békir then, the eldest one, he said: "My son, in you The second son, named Mesrou, then the Genie told to go To Sadder then, the third, he turned, with smiles and friendly air. "And you," he said, "have fancy; see the world not as it is, But painted as by poets. You will find your dream of bliss In Agra, with the clever men and beauteous women, too. In Agra's halls, my dear young friend, Bathmendi waits for you." Thanks to the wax, young Täi heard no word the Genie spoke; His brothers now in feverish haste made ready to forsake Meantime, the elder brothers journeyed long and far and wide. All Persia through. "Alzim was right," said Békir; "here must be The Satraps leagued against him; soldiers played him false in fight; Sudden, upon the very brink, he found himself held fast; "Oh, Mesrou," answered Békir, clinging close in his embrace, "This is my first true happiness since last I saw thy face!" Then Mesrou told his story. 'T was like to Békir's own. Yet, strange to say, Bathmendi I could neither see nor meet. Wise Tai who, with Alzim's gold, did safe at home abide." Their eager footsteps homeward, then, the gladdened brothers turned; Which kept its summer holiday: processions up and down, Into each other's arms they fell, with laughter, and with tears. "How now!" cried Békir. "Doth the world true genius thus neglect?" In every chance; and wisdom true by smallest things is taught." Said Sadder, after they had supped. "You know he bade me go He vowed he 'd gladly order off my miserable head. A slave I had befriended gave me warning, and I fled; And after wandering for years, half starved, half dead with shame, "Return with us," said Mesrou. "I have diamonds which will keep At early dawn, next day, "Is Tai living? Is he poor? At any rate, we know Bathmendi he cannot have found, because he would not go In search of him." Cried Sadder, then: "Dear brothers, list to me. Long hours I pondered in the years of my adversity. That being, called Bathmendi, I believe does not exist; Else all these years we had not thus his face forever missed. While yet he spoke, a robber band sprang from behind the trees; With daggers at the brothers' throats, they forced them on their knees; With mocking jests stripped off their clothes, and left them almost bare. "Behold my illustration now," cried Sadder, shivering there. "Alas, my diamonds," Mesrou wailed. "The wretches!" Békir said. "They took my sword! Without a sword one might as well be dead! The night came on; the luckless men beheld the shining light From Tai's windows streaming out. Shame-stricken at their plight They halted then, and wept afresh,- their hearts with terror cold. At last, beneath a window lattice, Békir, trembling, rolled |