ar to be a very
unjust slur upon a very worthy little animal, to say the least.

Bert's first knowledge of the other kind of pony was when in the course
of his study of Latin he came to read Sallust. Caesar he had found
comparatively easy, and with no other aid than the grammar and lexicon
he could, in the course of an hour or so, get out a fair translation of
the passage to be mastered. But Sallust gave him no end of trouble.
There was something in the involved obscure style of this old historian
that puzzled him greatly, and he was constantly being humiliated by
finding that when, after much labour, he had succeeded in making some
sort of sense out of a sentence, Dr. Johnston would pronounce his
translation altogether wrong, and proceed to read it in quite another
way.

As it happened, just when Bert was in the middle of those difficulties,
Mr. Lloyd was called away from home on important business which entailed
an absence for many weeks, and consequently Bert was deprived of his
assistance, which was always so willingly given.

He had been struggling with Sallust for some time, and was making but
very unsatisfactory headway, when one day, chancing to express to Regie
Selwyn his envy of the seeming ease with which the latter got along,
Regie looked at him with a knowing smile, and asked:

"Don't you know how I get my translation so pat?"

"No," replied Bert; "tell me, won't you?"

"Why, I use a pony, of course," responded Regie.

"A pony!" exclaimed Bert, in a tone of surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come now," said Regie, with an incredulous smile. "Do you mean to
say that you don't know what a pony is?"

"I do, really," returned Bert. "Please tell me, like a good fellow."

"Come along home with me after school, and I'll show you," said Regie.

"All right," assented Bert; "I will."

Accordingly, that afternoon when school had been dismissed, Bert
accompanied Regie home, and there the latter took him to his room, and
produced a book which contained the whole of Sallust turned into clear,
simple English.

"There," said he, placing the volume in Bert's hands; "that's what I
mean by a pony."

Bert opened the book, glanced at a page or two, took in the character of
its contents, and then, with a feeling as though he had touched a
serpent, laid it down again, saying:

"But do you think it's right to use this book in getting up your
Sallust, Regie?"

Regie laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Where