, as eager for information as ever. After a general laugh at her
expense, Cousin Irene said:

"The first mirrors, you must remember, were the forest pools and
mountain tarns. As the hunter stooped to one of these to slake his
thirst, if perchance so much as a shadow should break the reflection of
his own image in its tranquil depths, he had reason to fear that danger
and perhaps death were at hand; for often in some such dark mirror a
victim caught the first glimpse of his enemy, who had been waiting in
ambush and was now stealing upon him from behind; or of the wild beast
making ready to leap upon him. But the popular augury that the mere
fact of breaking a looking-glass portends death, is, you must see,
senseless and absurd. And so, as I think you have become convinced,
are all superstitions. It is true we sometimes remark coincidences,
and are inclined to make much of them; without noting, on the contrary,
how many times the same supposed omens and signs come to nought. When
God wills to send us some special happiness or trial, be assured He
makes use of no such means to prepare us for it; since He directs our
lives not by chance, but by His all-wise and loving Providence."

UNCLE TOM'S STORY.

I.

Some pine logs burned brightly upon the andirons in the wide,
old-fashioned chimney; and the Tyrrell children were comfortably seated
around the fire, roasting chestnuts and telling stories.

"Come, Uncle Tom, it is your turn!" cried Pollie, breaking in upon the
reverie of their mother's brother, who, seated in the old red
arm-chair, was gazing abstractedly at the cheery flames.

"Yes, please let us have something about the war," put in Rob.

"But everybody has been telling war stories for the last twenty-five
years. Do you not think we have had enough of them?" said the
gentleman.

"One never tires of hearing of deeds of bravery," answered Rob,
dramatically.

"Or of romantic adventures," added Pollie.

Uncle Tom looked amused; but, after some hesitation, said; "Well, I
will tell you an incident recalled by this pine-wood fire. It may seem
extraordinary; but, having witnessed it myself, I can vouch for its
truth. You consider me an old soldier; yet, though I wore the blue
uniform for more than a year and saw some fighting, I was only a youth
of eighteen when the war closed; and, in spite of my boyish anxiety to
distinguish myself and become a hero, I probably would never have
attained even to t