xible on this point. You must appear pleased. You must give
pleasure to others. You must make up your mind to receive gratification
by imparting it.

Once in a while an accident happens at a meal. A cup is overturned; some
unhappy person swallows "the wrong way"; somebody makes a mistake. Look
at your plate at such a moment, and nowhere else, unless you can
sufficiently control your face and appear entirely unconscious that
anything has occurred out of the usual routine. Take no notice, and go
on with the conversation, and in a second the incident will have been
forgotten by every one.

[Illustration: Signature]

ON BOARD THE ARK.

BY ALBERT LEE.

CHAPTER X.

Tommy stared for some minutes at the antics of the Ibexes, and then
turned to the ex-Pirate.

"How very odd!" he remarked.

"Very," assented the other. "Aren't you beginning to feel sort of
queer?"

"I don't notice any motion at all," replied Tommy.

"I don't mean _that_," said the ex-Pirate, looking reproachfully at the
little boy. "But, personally, I am beginning to become affected by all
these animals. I almost feel as though I could become a second
Abou-Ben-Din."

"A second Abou-Ben-Din?"

"Yes," continued the ex-Pirate, scarcely noticing the interruption. "But
I hardly think it would pay. I doubt if there are any other craft
hereabouts."

"What are you mumbling about, anyway?" asked Tommy.

"I was not mumbling at all. I was thinking of Abou-Ben-Din. _There_ was
a pirate for you!"

"I never heard of Abou-Ben-Din," said Tommy. "I've read about Captain
Kidd and the Dey of Algiers, and lots of others--but that's all."

"Well, if you had allowed me to read the first sixteen chapters of my
autobiography," exclaimed the ex-Pirate, becoming somewhat excited, as
he always did when the subject of his autobiography came up, "you would
have known all about Abou-Ben-Din by this time. He was a Hindoo."

"But can't you tell me about him now, just as well?" pleaded the little
boy, anxious to get another pirate story.

"I might," answered the ex-Pirate, meditatively. "I might. It is a
favorite story of mine, but I don't think this is very good company to
tell it in."

"Why is not it?"

But before the ex-Pirate could answer, the Lion arose and roared so
fiercely that the rafters shook, and many of the birds fell from their
perches.

"What does this mean?" he growled. "What does all this skylarking
signify?"

"I'm not doing anything," put