-a-doodle-doo!"

Then the robber got back as well as he could to his captain, and said,
"Oh dear! in that house there is a gruesome witch, and I felt her breath
and her long nails in my face; and by the door there stands a man who
stabbed me in the leg with a knife, and in the yard there lies a black
spectre, who beat me with his wooden club; and above, upon the roof,
there sits the justice, who cried, 'bring that rogue here!' And so I ran
away from the place as fast as I could."

From that time forward the robbers never returned to that house, and the
four Bremen town musicians found themselves so well off where they were,
that there they stayed. And the person who last related this tale is
still living, as you see.

A Very Queer Steed, and Some Strange Adventures.

TOLD AFTER ARIOSTO BY ELIZABETH ARMSTRONG.

An Italian poet named Ariosto, who lived before our grandfathers were
born, has told some very funny stories, one of which I will tell you.
Not contented with mounting his heroes on ordinary horses, he gave one
of them a splendid winged creature to ride; a fiery steed with eyes of
flame, and the great pinions of an eagle. This creature's name was
Hippogrif. Let me tell you how Prince Roger caught the Hippogrif, and
then you will want to know something about his queer journey. I may as
well tell you that Prince Roger belonged to the Saracens, and that he
loved a lady of France named Bradamante, also that an old enchanter had
captured both the prince and the lady and gotten them into his power.
They of course were planning a way of escape, and hoped to go off
together, and be married, and live happily ever after, but this was not
the intention of their captor. The two prisoners, who were allowed a
good deal of liberty, were standing together one day, when Bradamante
said to Roger:

"Look! there is the old man's Hippogrif still standing quietly by us. I
have a mind to catch him and take a ride on him, for he is mine by
right of conquest since I have overcome his master." So she went toward
the winged steed and stretched out her hand to take him by the bridle;
but the Hippogrif darted up into the air, and flew a hundred yards or so
away before he settled again upon the ground. Again and again she tried
to catch him, but he always flew off before she could touch him, and
then came down to earth a little distance away, where he waited for her
to get near him again, just as you may see a butterfly flit from