ed by all for his patient endurance of wrong, for his
matchless skill, and for his loving service.

THE BLUE GROTTO.

BY JAMES B. MARSHALL.

"Did you ever see any blue-colored people?" asked Miss Bertha, aged ten,
shortly after my introduction to that young lady at Naples. I was forced
to confess that, though my acquaintances had shaded from white to black,
and brown to red, I had never been fortunate enough to boast of a blue
one.

"Oh, I saw 'most a hundred the other day!" said she, triumphantly. "Then
did you ever see a silver-colored man?"

"A silver-colored man? Miss Bertha dear, I have an idea that you have
been to fairy-land."

"He was a real silver-colored man," said she, very earnestly.

"I suppose he was the King of the fairy-land you went to."

"Oh no, he wasn't; he was a big boatman. But it was just like
fairy-land; it was splendid!--really, just splendid!"

It proved that the dear little enthusiast had been, a few days previous,
on a visit to the Island of Capri to see the famous Blue Grotto; since
which she had been startling people with her descriptions of blue folks
and a silver man.

Seeing that I couldn't have a better guide than Miss Bertha, the next
morning we and a jovial party went on board of the tiny steamer that
plies between Naples and the eighteen miles distant Island of Capri,
hollowed under the cliffs of which the Blue Grotto is situated. The Bay
of Naples, you know, is called the most beautiful in the world, and a
sail across it is a lovely thing in itself. There are such glorious blue
skies overhead, and such clear blue waters underneath, that the steamer
appears to bear one through the air between two skies. Then, close to
Naples, is seen that wonderful volcano, Vesuvius, with always a cloud of
smoke curling lazily out of its crater. And, besides, the white houses
of Naples are so built on a hill-side, the streets climbing to the top,
that a few miles away that too is a handsome sight. Miss Bertha told me
that they were the marble steps to the giant's palace, whose bird was
carrying us to the enchanted island to show us the giant's jewel-room.
Capri then looked like a distant light-house, merely a brown rock rising
out of the sea.

As we went bobbing over the waves it grew higher and higher, which Miss
Bertha explained was the correct thing for it to do, until, when the
steamer anchored a little distance from its cliffs, it rose straight up
from the water to a dizzy