lmost with a sob.

"Look here, my boy, listen. You knew Mr. Akers died; well, he was one
of the judges, and I was asked to take his place, and I consented,
because I saw that I had an office-boy who would attend to his work."

Hal put his hand out vaguely towards the table as if to lean on it for
support. Mr. Bryce's tone involuntarily softened as he continued: "I
have been comparing the estimates sent in by the other judges, and I see
that we agree that the first prize for 'Colonial Policy' is taken by
'Nisus Sum.'"

"'Nisus Sum,'" said the boy dreamily, "first prize." Then suddenly, as
if beside himself, he twirled Mr. Bryce's chair round and round with the
poor man in it until the lawyer had to exert his strength to stop him.

"That'll do," exclaimed he. "Don't get frantic, but it was really very
risky for you to try to do my work and yours too. There was danger of
doing neither satisfactorily."

"Did I neglect anything, sir? you know I didn't. I began to read up for
the essay before father was taken sick, and then when that came, I was
bound I would do something at last."

"Well, well, you succeeded, didn't you? Go home now and tell them; only,
remember this," and Mr. Bryce grew stern, "don't think because you have
succeeded now that you always are to win. Stick to your daily work. Be a
good clerk first, that you may be a good historian later."

"Trust me," said Hal gravely, who felt the awe of success stealing over
him. He felt queer, yet happy and humble; and bowing low, he left the
room. It took but a few moments for him to rush home; and if his father
had not gained in strength he certainly would have suffered, for Hal
bounded into the room, upsetting the chairs and a table and spinning his
mother round in circles somewhat as he had treated Mr. Bryce, he
exclaimed:

"I have won! I have won! first prize! Now you can be sick, father, as
long as you please."

Then followed explanation and a quiet talk which made Harry always look
back upon that evening as the happiest one of his boyhood.

It only remains to add that he was as good as his word; he was an able
clerk first, and an historian only as a middle-aged man.

IN THE SECOND DORMITORY.

Ramon Valdez was an acquisition. He was a Cuban. Father had picked him
up at Havana, where he was looking out for somebody who could teach
him English instead of the queer jabber that he learned, second-hand,
from a wizened little French adventurer, who had