" asked the boy,--"there is nothing to
see. Oh, yes," continued he, mischievously, "there is a horrid dragon,
just such as St. George fought with, lying all curled up in the bottom
of the well, with fire and smoke coming out of his mouth."

Rosamond Purcill was too true a descendant of old Geoffrey to be
frightened at the thought of a dragon. She caught hold of Mark's arm to
steady herself, and leaned over the well.

"Let me see! let me see!" cried she, eagerly.

Mark made one or two feints of pushing her in, but at last held her
firmly by the waist, while she looked in vain for the fabulous monster
below.

"Where is he, Mark? I don't see anything, and I don't believe you saw
him."

"Oh, yes, I did," said Mark;--"there, don't you see the end of his tail
sticking out from under the largest stone? May-be he has had one little
girl for breakfast this morning, and don't care about another for
luncheon, or else he would spring up after you, and gobble you up in a
minute."

"What stories, Mark! Aunt Eleanor says there are no dragons, nor ever
were."

"Pooh!" retorted Mark, contemptuously,--"Aunt Eleanor has not seen
everything that there is to be seen in the world. Look again, Rosy."

Again the little curly head was bent over the well, somewhat puzzled
which to believe, Aunt Eleanor or Mark, but half-inclined to credit
Mark's eyes rather than Aunt Eleanor's words.

"Do you think that can be one of his scales?" asked she, pointing to a
small piece of tin which glittered in a stray sunbeam among the stones.

Mark's eyes followed the direction of her finger, and he was about to
declare that it must be a scale that the dragon had scraped off his
back, wriggling among the stones, when both children were startled by a
loud voice calling out, "What are you doing, children? You will fall
into the well and break your good-for-nothing little necks!"

Mark and Rosamond drew back, and saw a young man, their brother
Bradford, with a basket and a fishing-rod in his hand, coming up the
knoll.

"Why are you here, Mark?" asked he. "Aunt Eleanor thinks it a dangerous
place, and has forbidden you to play here."

Mark looked up at his brother. "I come," said he, sturdily, "for that
very reason,--because I am told not to. I won't mind Aunt Eleanor, nor
any other woman."

Bradford shook his head and burst out into a laugh. "Ah, Mark, my boy,"
said he, with a serious, comical air, "it will do very well for you to
talk,--you will