e must have fired the pile in front in
twenty places. There was no use in trying to get out. It was like a wall
of fire. I tell you, we all thought our time had come. It was just
awful."

"I'm glad I came when I did," said Davy, gently. "But I'm afraid you'll
have to help me home. My feet are so badly burned I don't believe I can
take a step."

"As if we'd let you even think of walking!" exclaimed Fred. "We'll rig
up a litter in short order."

So Davy was carried into the village in state by seven of the boys,
while the two others went on ahead to tell Miss Potter what had happened
and engage the services of a doctor.

And it was not until his wounds were all dressed, and he was lying
quietly in bed, with Fred Bassett and Tom Harper sitting beside him,
that Davy happened to think that the "turn" for which he had waited so
long had come at last, and he had failed to take the revenge he had so
ardently desired.

But he never regretted this, for he never had to complain again of
unkind treatment from either his aunt or his schoolmates. For Miss
Potter, in taking care of her young nephew during the three weeks he was
confined to the house, found good qualities of head and heart the
existence of which she had never before even suspected, and she made up
her mind that she had thought Davy a burden because she had never really
understood him.

As to the boys--well, they made a hero of Davy, and the "Mystic Nine"
became the "Mystic Ten," by the admission to membership of the shy,
freckled-faced boy who was always at the bottom of his classes.

And affection and encouragement brightened up Davy's wits so much that
he ceased before long to occupy that unenviable and lowly position, and
astonished his teacher by his rapid progress.

No punishment was ever meted out to old Sim; but it is scarcely
necessary to say that the boys were careful to let him severely alone
after that memorable Saturday on which Davy became a hero.

THE BLIND GIRL AND THE SPRING.

BY SYDNEY GREY.

Yes, it is true that I am blind (it was not always thus),
But oft it comes into my mind how God can comfort us.
For if, of some good gift bereft, we bend before His will,
He ever has a blessing left which should our sorrows still.
This very morn I found it so; scarce had the day begun,
Ere with small, pattering, restless feet that hither swiftly run,
The children came in joyous mood, and shouted, "Spring is here!"
And when t