the screw,
An' they stood an' was still to the "Birken'ead" drill, soldier an
sailor too_!

We're most of us liars, we're 'arf of us thieves, an' the rest are as
rank as can be,
But once in a while we can finish in style (which I 'ope it won't
'appen to me);
But it makes you think better o' you an' your friends an' the work you
may 'ave to do
When you think o' the sinkin' "Victorier's" Jollies--soldier an' sailor
too.
_Now there isn't no room for to say you don't know--they 'ave settled
it plain and true--
That whether it's Widow or whether it's ship, Victorier's work is to
do,
As they done it, the Jollies--'er Majesty's Jollies--soldier an sailor
too_!

[Illustration]

RACHEL.

BY MRS. E.V. WILSON,

AUTHOR OF "BARBARY," "A BLIZZARD," AND OTHER STORIES.

It was the middle of a short December afternoon. From the scholars in
the little log school-house in the Stillman district rose a buzzing
sound as they bent over their desks, intent on books or mischief, as
the case might be. The teacher, a good-looking young man of twenty or
thereabouts, was busy with a class in arithmetic when a shrill voice
called out:

"Teacher, Rachel Stillman's readin' a story-book."

"Bring the book to me," said the teacher quietly; and the delinquent,
a girl of about fourteen, slowly rose and, walking to him, placed a
much-worn volume in his hands.

"Why," he said, glancing at the open page, "it is 'The Pilgrim's
Progress.' No wonder you are interested. But you must not read it
during school hours."

The child lifted to his face a pair of large blue eyes, beautiful with
timid wistfulness, as she replied:

"I know I oughtn't, sir, but I wanted to see how they got out of
Doubting Castle so bad."

He smiled. "I will give you the book after school; then you can read
it at home."

"Oh, no," she whispered; "father won't let me read story-books."

"He surely would not object to this," answered the young teacher; "but
I will keep it until recess to-morrow, and, never fear, Christian and
Hopeful will outwit the giant yet."

The wistful eyes brightened, and, with a grateful smile, Rachel
returned to her desk.

"First class in spelling, take your places," called the teacher.

Rachel belonged to this class, as did all the larger scholars, among
whom was her brother, Thomas, two years her elder. The teacher had
promised