s were filled with delight
when they heard this report, and they at once set out for the mother's
cottage. And there by magic arts the Bee-man was changed back into a
baby. The mother was so grateful for what the Bee-man had done for her
that she agreed to take charge of this baby, and to bring it up as her
own.

"It will be a grand thing for him," said the Junior Sorcerer, "and I am
glad that I studied his case. He will now have a fresh start in life,
and will have a chance to become something better than a miserable old
man living in a wretched hut with no friends or companions but buzzing
bees."

The Junior Sorcerer and his Masters then returned to their homes, happy
in the success of their great performance; and the Youth went back to
his home anxious to begin a life of activity and energy.

Years and years afterward, when the Junior Sorcerer had become a Senior
and was very old indeed, he passed through the country of Orn, and
noticed a small hut about which swarms of bees were flying. He
approached it, and looking in at the door he saw an old man in a
leathern doublet, sitting at a table, eating honey. By his magic art he
knew this was the baby which had been transformed from the Bee-man.

"Upon my word!" exclaimed the Sorcerer, "he has grown into the same
thing again!"

[E] From "The Bee-Man of Orn, and Other Fanciful Tales";
copyright, 1887, by Charles Scribner's Sons. Used by permission of the
publishers.

THE POT OF GOLD[F]

BY MARY E. WILKINS FREEMAN

The Flower family lived in a little house in a broad grassy meadow,
which sloped a few rods from their front door down to a gentle, silvery
river. Right across the river rose a lovely dark green mountain, and
when there was a rainbow, as there frequently was, nothing could have
looked more enchanting than it did rising from the opposite bank of the
stream with the wet, shadowy mountain for a background. All the Flower
family would invariably run to their front windows and their door to see
it.

The Flower family numbered nine: Father and Mother Flower and seven
children. Father Flower was an unappreciated poet, Mother Flower was
very much like all mothers, and the seven children were very sweet and
interesting. Their first names all matched beautifully with their last
name, and with their personal appearance. For instance, the oldest girl,
who had soft blue eyes and flaxen curls, was called Flax Flower: the
little boy, who came next, and