cle round the sun, it moves as fast as
a shot from a gun."

"Oh! oh!" exclaimed the children; and Joe asked, "Why are we not all
dashed to pieces?"

"Because," said the Professor, "we do not run against anything large
enough to do any harm; and we do not realize how fast we are moving, or
that we are moving at all, because we do not pass near anything that is
standing still. You know that in riding we look at the trees and fences
by the road-side to see how rapidly we are going. The hills in the
distance do not show our speed, but seem to be following us. Unless we
look outside we can not know anything about it, excepting, perhaps, we
may guess from the noise and jostling of the vehicle. But as the earth
moves smoothly and without the least noise, we would think it stood
entirely still did not astronomers assure us of its wonderfully rapid
motion. It took them a great while to find it out. When they began to
suspect it there was a great dispute over it. Some said it moved; others
said it did not. The two parties were for a time very bitter against
each other; but now all agree in the belief of its rapid motion."

"A queer thing to quarrel about, I must say," remarked Gus. "I wouldn't
have cared a straw whether it moved or not, if I could only have been
allowed to move about on it as I pleased."

"I hope you are not getting uneasy, Gus," said Joe.

"There is evident reason," observed Jack, "to suspect that his
appreciation of the marvels of science is insufficient to preserve--"

"Oh, bother! Jack, don't give us your college stuff now, after the
Professor has told us so much. We like to hear him, of course. I do, for
one, a great deal better than I thought I should. But then a fellow
can't help getting tired."

BABY'S EYES.

When the baby's eyes are blue,
Think we of a summer day,
Violets, and dancing rills.
When the baby's eyes are gray,
Doves and dawn are brought to mind.
Brown--of gentle fawns we dream,
And ripe nuts in shady woods.
Black--of midnight skies that gleam
With bright stars. But blue or gray,
Black or brown, like flower or star,
Sweeter eyes can never be
To mamma than baby's are.

[Begun in No. 11 of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, January 13.]

LADY PRIMROSE.

BY FLETCHER READE.

CHAPTER II.

"Infinite riches in a little room."

The words of the wise old woman of Hollowbush were true, then. Here was
a place where gems were more abundant