per. They drove a stake in the sand, and fastened the boat's painter
securely to it, and then "turned in."

"No tide to rouse us up to-night, boys," said Harry, as he rolled
himself in his blanket. "I sha'n't wake up till daylight."

"We'd better take an early start," remarked Tom. "We haven't got on very
far, because we started so late this morning. If we get off by six every
morning, we can lie off in the middle of the day, and start again about
three o'clock. It's no fun rowing with the sun right overhead."

"Well, it isn't more than eight o'clock now; and if we take eight hours'
sleep, we can turn out at four o'clock," said Harry. "But who is going
to wake us up? Joe and Jim are sound asleep already, and I'm awful
sleepy myself. I don't believe one of us will wake up before seven
o'clock anyway."

Tom made no answer, for he had dropped asleep while Harry was talking.
The latter thought he must be pretending to sleep, and was just
resolving to tell Tom that it wasn't very polite to refuse to answer a
civil question, when he found himself muttering something about a game
of base-ball, and awoke, with a start, to discover that he could not
possibly keep awake another moment.

The boys slept on. The moon came out, and shone in at the open tent
flap, and the tide rose to high-water mark, but not quite high enough to
reach the tent. By-and-by the wheezing of a tow-boat broke the
stillness, and occasionally a hoarse steam-whistle echoed among the
hills; but the boys slept so soundly that they would not have heard a
locomotive had it whistled its worst within a rod of the tent.

The river had been like a mill-pond since the thunder-storm, but about
midnight a heavy swell rolled in toward the shore. It came on, growing
larger and larger, and rushing up the little beach with a fierce roar,
dashed into the tent and overwhelmed the sleeping boys without the
slightest warning.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

THE OLD, OLD TOAD.

BY MRS. E. W. LATIMER.

"Mamma," said one of my boys to me (they are "grown-up boys," but they
take great pleasure in the weekly arrival of the YOUNG PEOPLE), "why
don't you write a communication to the editor, and tell him how papa
once saw a live toad in a slab of rock that had just been blasted?"

"Perhaps the editor would not believe me," I replied. "It seems a
doubtful point among geologists and naturalists, and he says the fact
has never been certified to by any scientific man."

"Well,