before, and had
learned that the best way to get out of them was to walk away as fast as
possible; besides, there was no one in sight for him to talk to, for Sam
had started to run the instant that the piece of brick left his hand.
The man came out of the yard, looked around, saw the boys, turned in the
opposite direction, and then turned up an alley that passed one side of
the school-house.

He could not have done worse; for no one lived on the alley, so any
mischievous boy could tease him without fear of detection. He had gone
but a few steps when Sam, who had hidden in a garden on the same alley,
rose beside a fence, and threw a stick, which struck the organ. The man
stopped, turned around, saw the whole crowd of boys slowly following,
supposed some one of them was his assailant, threw the stick swiftly at
the party, and then started to run. No one was hit, but the mere sight
of a frightened man trying to escape seemed to rob the boys of every
particle of humanity. Charley Gunter, who was very fond of pets, devoted
himself to trying to hit the monkey with stones; Will Palmer, who had
once helped nurse a friendless negro who had cut himself badly with an
axe, actually shouted "Hurra!" when a stone thrown by himself struck one
of the man's legs, and made him limp; Ned Johnston hurriedly broke a
soft brick into small pieces, and threw them almost in a shower; and
even Benny Mallow, who had always been a most tender-hearted little
fellow, threw stones, sticks, and even an old bottle that he found among
the rubbish that had been thrown into the alley.

[Illustration: THE ATTACK ON THE ORGAN-GRINDER.]

Suddenly a stone--there were so many in the air at a time that no one
knew who threw that particular stone--struck the organ-grinder in the
back of the head, and the poor fellow fell forward flat, with his organ
on top of him, and remained perfectly motionless.

"He's killed!" exclaimed some one, as the pursuers stopped. In an
instant all the boys went over the fences on either side of the alley,
but not until Paul Grayson, crossing the upper end of the alley, had
seen them, and they had seen him.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

FORDING A RIVER IN CENTRAL ASIA.

BY DAVID KER.

I have heard many complaints made of the impossibility of sleeping in a
railway car, and have wondered much how those who made them would have
fared if compelled to spend, not one night, but twelve or fourteen in
succession, in crossing the road