re than
they had while on the cruise, and after a little more talk the officer
turned slowly away.

"By-the-bye," he exclaimed, suddenly turning back again, "one of you
told me you were pirates. I ought to take you in after all. I believe
you're a lot of boys that have been reading dime novels, and have run
away from home."

"I didn't say we were pirates," replied Tom. "I said we were Moral
Pirates. That's a very different thing."

"Of course it is," said Joe. "A Moral Pirate is a sort of missionary,
you know. I'm afraid you don't go to Sunday-school, officer, or you'd
know better."

The policeman could not quite make up his mind whether Joe was in joke
or in earnest; but as he could find no real reason for arresting the
boys, he contented himself with telling them to leave the lumber-yard as
soon as the sun rose. "And you'd better look out," he added, "that you
don't come across any real river thieves. They'll make no bones of
seizing your boat, and knocking you on the head if you make any noise."
When he was fairly out of sight, the boys crept back to their shelter
among the lumber, and coolly went to sleep again. They were so tired
that neither policemen nor river thieves had any terrors for them.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

A CONFESSION.

BY GEORGE N. LOVEJOY.

"Do you love me?" stammered Benny
To a bright-eyed little maid;
"Do you love me, love me, Jenny?--
I'll not tell; don't be afraid."

"Yes, I love you," answered Jenny;
"But 'twas only yesterday
That I said the same thing, Benny"
(And she blushed), "to Robbie Gray."

POOR BEN!

BY SYDNEY DAYRE.

"Ha, Uncle Dud, I've found your lady-love's curl!"

His uncle drew near Hal, as he rummaged in an old desk.

"Ah," he said, "is that there? I haven't seen it for many a year, but
now I remember putting it there."

He took the short brown lock of hair in his hand, and looked at it with
almost a tender interest.

"He saved my life when I was a boy, Hal."

"Who, uncle?"

"The one who wore this curl."

"Oh, tell me all about it; come, do, Uncle Dud;" and Hal laid his hand
coaxingly on his uncle's arm. "Was he one of your playmates?"

"Yes."

"How old was he when he did it?"

"I didn't know exactly his age. Ten or twelve, perhaps, or thereabouts.
But there is the tea-bell. I'll tell you about it after tea."

Uncle Dudley found his audience increased by four or five expectant boys
and girls, who gathered ar