or the street. In vain our hurried
search, up and down, in the dark spring night. In vain his mistress's
frantic calls. If Squanko was hidden in some nook hard by, and heard
her entreaties, his heart must have been harder than a stone. That
hasty exit was the last we ever saw of him. Night after night my
uncle, coming home from the city, inquired for Squanko, only to
receive the sad reply,--

"No, Roy! We never--never shall see Squanko again."

Soon a fat, brindled puppy was installed in the vacant place. Day by
day he grew, both in bulk and in the affections of the family. My aunt
named him "Trouble." All the devotion which had been Squanko's was
straightway lavished on him.

When, in process of time, the tidings were borne to my aunt's ears,
that Squanko, forgetful of former friends, was leading a jolly
existence in a neighboring town, she only replied, with a toss of her
head, "Let the ungrateful imp stay there. Trouble is worth a dozen of
him!"

F. CHESEBORO.

[Decoration]

"THE SWEET ONE FOR POLLY."

Polly had expected to be very happy in getting ready for the party;
but when the time came she was disappointed, for somehow that naughty
thing called envy took possession of her, and spoiled her pleasure.

Before she left home she thought her new white muslin dress, with its
fresh blue ribbons, the most elegant and proper costume she could
have; but now, when she saw Fanny's pink silk, with a white tarlatan
tunic, and innumerable puffings, bows, and streamers, her own simple
little toilet lost all its charms in her eyes, and looked very babyish
and old-fashioned.

Even Maud was much better dressed than herself, and looked very
splendid in her cherry-colored and white suit, with a sash so big she
could hardly carry it, and little white boots with red buttons.

They both had necklaces and bracelets, ear-rings and brooches; but
Polly had no ornament except the plain locket on a bit of blue velvet.
Her sash was only a wide ribbon, tied in a simple bow, and nothing but
a blue snood in the pretty brown curls. Her only comfort was the
knowledge that the modest tucker drawn up round the plump shoulders
was real lace, and that her bronze boots cost nine dollars.

Poor Polly, with all her efforts to be contented, and not to mind
looking unlike other people, found it hard work to keep her face
bright and her voice happy that night. No one dreamed what was going