from its rider, dashed, snorting with terror,
towards the park entrance.

"A lion! A lion!" shrieked the trembling slaves, but Smerdis, drawing
his dagger, ran towards the place where his brother had fallen,
passing close by the body of the fawn which lay among the reeds with
its head crushed by a blow from the lion's paw. Candaules followed
close at the lad's heels.

Parting the thick growth of stalks, they saw, only a few paces off,
Otanes, covered with blood, lying motionless on the ground, and beside
him the dead body of a half-grown lion, the boy's arrow buried in
one eye, while the blood still streamed from the lance-wound in the
animal's side.

Smerdis, weeping, threw himself beside his brother, and at the same
moment Intaphernes, with several nobles and attendants, attracted
by the cries, dashed up to the spot. The father, springing from the
saddle, bent, and laid his hand on the boy's heart.

"It is beating still, and strongly too," he exclaimed. "Throw water in
his face! perhaps--"

Without finishing the sentence, he carefully examined the motionless
form. "Ormuzd be praised! He has no wound; the blood has flowed from
the lion. See, Prexaspes, there is a lance-head sticking in its side.
I believe it's the very beast you wounded early in the day."

The officer whose laugh had so vexed Otanes, stooped over the dead
lion and looked at the broken shaft.

"Ay, it's my weapon; the beast probably made its way to the morass for
water; but, by Mithras![3] the lad's arrow killed the brute; the barb
passed through the eyeball into the brain."

[Footnote 3: The Persian god of the sun.]

"Yes, my lord," cried old Candaules eagerly, "and doubtless it was
only the weight of the animal, which, striking my young master as it
made its spring, hurled him from the saddle and stunned him. See! he
is opening his eyes. Otanes, Otanes, you've killed the lion!"

The boy's eyelids fluttered, then slowly rose, his eyes wandered over
the group, and at last rested on the dead lion. The old slave's words
had evidently reached his ear, for with a faint smile he glanced
archly at Prexaspes, and raising himself on one elbow, said:

"You see, my lord--even with a bow and dagger!"

MARY J. SAFFORD.

DO YOU KNOW HIM?

[Illustration: COULDN'T BEAR TO BE LAUGHED AT.]

There was once a small boy--he might measure four feet;
His conduct was perfectly splendid,
His manners were good, and his temper was sweet,
H