er mouth with such fearful snaps of her teeth,
that Helen instantly retreated behind Zaidee for protection. "Clutch
your hair with both hands, this way, and get into procession."

"Yes, but where's the sacrifice?" asked Eunice, suddenly recollecting
this important part of the ceremony.

"I declare! I forgot all about it! What _shall_ we sacrifice?"

"We finded a little dead mouse in the woodshed after breakfast," said
Zaidee. "We were going to give him to George Washington for dessert
to-day. We buried it in the cemi-terror to keep till it was
dinner-time."

"That will do. Dig it up. George Washington can sacrifice his mouse."

While Zaidee was unearthing George W.'s intended dessert, Cricket had
found a shingle for a bier. They made a bed of seaweed on it, and
stretched the little dead mouse thereon.

"I've an idea!" exclaimed Eunice. "Let's call the idol the Jabberwock,
and sing the Jabberwock song as we go up."

"Splendid!" cried Cricket, clapping her hands. "How does it go?

"'Beware the Jabberwock, my son,
With jaws that bite and claws that catch.'

"Isn't that it?"

"That's the second verse," said Eunice "Don't you remember,

"''Twas brillig, and the slimy sea--?'"

"Yes, now I do. All ready."

So the procession formed itself anew. Zaidee and Helen bore the
shingle-bier in front, Eunice and Cricket came behind, tearing their
hair, and chanting in doleful tones how

"The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!"

Then, with appropriate ceremonies, they offered up the mouse to the
Jabberwock, and then, joining hands, they danced around it, howling and
shrieking.

"More! more!" growled Cricket, in awful tones, that were supposed to
come from the yawning throat of the Jabberwock. The smaller children, by
this time, were wildly excited, and ready to offer up all their
possessions.

"You may have my Crumples," screamed Zaidee, making a dive for a little
white china cat that lay near by with a pile of other playthings that
the children had been playing with.

"We must stone it to pieces first," said Cricket, "and offer up the
ashes," and soon the china cat lay in fragments, and its "ashes" were
offered up.

"Let's take this old rubber-baby of Kenneth's," proposed Cricket. "You
don't care for it, do you, baby? It has a hole in its head."

Kenneth looked doubtfully at his beloved Jacob for a moment, and then,
qui