emarked that it would probably be good for his feet,
which it afterward proved to be.

These three were invited to dine with Kurilla and Chitsah, an invitation
which they accepted, and so became the guests of the Christmas dinner.
On their side of the fire the feast consisted largely of the fish the
Indians had just caught, to which were added unstinted tea and a
liberal supply of the plum duff. On the other side were mock-turtle
soup _a la can_, baked fish, rabbit fricassee, roast grouse, plum duff,
hard bread, tea, and cocoa--all of which combined to form what Phil
pronounced to be the very best Christmas dinner he had ever eaten, in
which sentiment Serge and Jalap Coombs heartily concurred.

Even the dogs were given cause to rejoice that Christmas had at length
come to their snowy land by receiving a double ration of dried fish,
which put them into such good spirits that they spent the greater part
of the night in a rollicking game of romps. On the Indian side of the
fire unwonted good cheer so overcame the shyness of the villagers that
the man ventured to ask questions regarding the intentions and
destination of this sledge party of strangers. When these were stated by
Kurilla he remained silent for a minute. Then he delivered a long and
animated speech.

As a result of this, and when it was finished, Kurilla left his own side
of the fire, and, approaching Phil, said,

"You go Forty Mile?"

"Yes. We all going to Forty Mile, of course."

"No like um Tananah?"

"Certainly I like the Tananah well enough. I shall like it better,
though, when we have seen the last of it."

"No can see um now."

"Why not? There it is right out yonder."

"No. Him Kloot-la-ku-ka. Tananah so" (pointing to the way they had
come). "You go so way" (pointing upstream); "get lose, mebbe; no fin;
plenty bad. Yaas."

So, all on account of keeping Christmas, and trying to bring a little of
its joy into the hearts of those children of the wilderness, Phil's
mistake was discovered before its consequences became disastrous, and he
was once more enabled to place his little party on the right road to
Sitka.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

LIFE-BLOOD OF A GREAT CITY.

HOW NEW YORK GETS ITS WATER.

BY JULIAN RALPH.

The furnishing of water to millions of human beings in a city, and the
arrangements for giving it to them as they want it, whether merely by
the glassful or in the profusion with which it is used in a brewery, are
among the