hat the drouth had not destroyed that tempter has gorged
himself upon.

"'Oh-h-h! Boo-hoo-hoo!'"

The frogs freely forgave him because he cried.

But the problem remained, how was the supply of water to be renewed.

At this juncture, an earnest, meek-eyed polliwog flopped feebly, and
said: "Show me the place where these waters leak away."

Astonished at her manner, the sobbing trout indicated the spot.

[Illustration: THE TADPOLE TO THE RESCUE.]

"Drag me thither by my tail!" exclaimed the heroine, resolutely.

Then the frogs used their last remaining strength to do as she bade
them, and waited, in exhausted surprise, to see what would happen next.

"Good-bye!" wept the brave little polliwog, wriggling with feeling, and
groaning some. "If any of you survive me, tell it to your children that
I laid myself in the breach!"

With these few farewell words she crowded herself into the hole, out of
their sight.

Presently, the stream began to rise and the pools to fill up. The frogs
sat knee-deep in water, and the fishes swam upon their sides.

[Illustration: "IN THE SKY."]

Day by day things improved, and the fishes began to sit up in bed, while
the frogs were heard incessantly blessing the little polliwog. One
night, she appeared to them in the sky, as you see her to-night;
returning nightly, for many nights, to beam at them; growing larger and
brighter at every appearance.

* * * * *

"Such," said the Sage, concluding, "is our Legend of the Moon!" And he
leaped into the waves with a resounding plump!

Miss Frog felt so many different sensations at once that she dropped her
lower jaw involuntarily, and sat so, unconscious of aught until awakened
from her reverie by a cricket jumping suddenly into her throat.

Hastily gulping him down, she gathered her shawl about her, and, with a
spring, sprawled graciously toward her wave.

DAB KINZER: A STORY OF A GROWING BOY.

BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.

CHAPTER IX.

Ham Morris was a thoughtful and kind-hearted fellow, beyond a doubt, and
a valuable friend for a growing boy like Dab Kinzer. It is not
everybody's brother-in-law who would find time, during his wedding trip,
to hunt up even so very pretty a New England village as Grantley, and
inquire into questions of board and lodging and schooling.

Mrs. Myers, to the hospitalities of whose cool and roomy-looking
boarding-house Ham had been commended by Mr. Hart, was so crowde