ashamed of itself in the shed, and has had to submit to a severe
operation to put it right again, which, perhaps, will be a lesson to it
in future.

Then we go under the engines and see the machinery, which works so
easily; and then we sit down, and ask the driver whether any adventures
have happened with the "Flying Dutchman."

"Nothing particular; but I can tell you a story about the railway which
will amuse you. It happened several years ago--but I won't tell you
where exactly, sir."

"Let us hear the tale," we said.

"It was in my father's time, before I was a driver, that it happened. An
aunt of mine--a youngish woman then--was travelling by the G. W. R.
('Great Way Round' they used to call us), when a young man entered the
carriage, where she was sitting alone, and asked where the train stopped
first. This was (say) at Paddington. My aunt said 'Reading' was the
first station, and the train immediately started.

"'Excuse me, ma'am,' said the gentleman; 'but will you oblige me by
cutting my hair a little.'

"My aunt thought the man was mad, but being alarmed by his manner,
consented.

"Then the young man changed his coat, his collar, his waistcoat, and
tie. He put on a pair of spectacles, and when my aunt dared to look at
him he was for all the world like a clergyman--an elderly gentleman in
spectacles!

"'Now,' said he; 'you must promise to be quiet, and never contradict me.
If you do you will rue it.' So my aunt--she was young then--promised,
and before they reached Reading the train was stopped. A guard and a
constable came up, and looked into every carriage.

"'Have you the tickets, dear?' said the man to my aunt.

"'All right, sir,' said the guard. 'We don't want to disturb you at all.
We are looking for some one else.'

"The train went on, but the 'old' clergyman, as he seemed, left the
train at Reading. He had committed forgery, but by disguising himself,
escaped. 'Clever rogue,' was he not?"

By the time we had heard this tale we were at Swindon Station again
waiting for the "Zulu," for we are bound for Bath and Bristol. Here it
comes just as the other train came, very punctually. We take a farewell
of our friend, and as we pass the shops on our way, we jot down in our
note-book what we have seen, and some of our pleasant experiences of the
"Flying Dutchman."

Mornings at the Zoo.

MORNINGS AT THE ZOO.

VI.--THE STORK FAMILY.

Whatever they may be in their native countries, the