ut
my lantern, which is a piece of impudence I have seldom met with. You
shall hear a story about him if you will, for only last night I was
telling one to Marie and Emil."

"Yes! yes!" cried the mice; "we should like it above all things. But
first tell us a little about Marie and Emil. Are they the two children
who have been ill?"

"Yes," I replied; "they are French children, and they live in a
sea-board town in the south of France,--that is, they live there about
half the time: the other half they spend on the water, in their father's
yacht. Their father is a rich man, who has a passion for the sea, and
likes to spend most of his time on it: and he takes his little boy and
girl with him on many of his yacht voyages, for they are as fond of the
water as he is, and they have no mother."

[Illustration]

"Oh!" sighed Nibble, "I wish Uncle Jack had a yacht, and a passion for
the sea!"

"That would be admirable!" said I. "Two children on a yacht are all very
well, but if there were five, the captain and all the crew would jump
overboard and drown themselves, I fancy. Certainly, Marie and Emil are
very happy on board the Victoria. Marie has a cabin of her own, the
prettiest little room you can imagine, where she sits and reads, or
swings in her hammock, when she is tired of staying on deck. The sailors
are all devoted to them, and now that they are ill on shore, the big
captain, Jacques Legros, goes every day up to the house, to ask if 'the
little angels are better?'"

"What is the matter with them?" asked Brighteyes; "and shall we have the
story now, if you please?"

[Illustration]

"You shall have the story now!" I said, "and they have had the scarlet
fever, but are doing very well. Hear that angry Wind outside! how he
howls, and shakes the window-frame. He knows that I am going to tell you
about his misdeeds. Howl away, my friend; you can do us no harm. So then
I told the mice the following story. First, however, I showed them a
picture of Marie, which I happened to have in my pocket. They thought
she was a very pretty little girl. What do you think?"

THE STORY OF THE WIND.

The great Tree stood out in the green meadow, all alone. No other trees
dared to come near him, he was so strong, and tall, and grand; but
for all that, he was kind and gentle, and never would hurt anything. One
morning the great Tree awoke from his long winter sleep, and found the
snow all gone, and the sun shining bright and warm a