sense and
consciousness returned to them, and indeed they never after could be
said to enjoy them completely, for, though they lived long, they were
little better than idiots during the remainder of their lives.

THE LITTLE SHROUD.

There was once a woman who had a little son of about seven years old,
who was so lovely and beautiful that no one could look upon him
without being kind to him, and he was dearer to her than all the world
beside. It happened that he suddenly fell ill and died, and his mother
would not be comforted, but wept for him day and night. Shortly after
he was buried he showed himself at night in the places where he had
been used in his lifetime to sit and play, and if his mother wept, he
wept also, and when the morning came he departed. Since his mother
never ceased weeping, the child came one night in the little white
shroud in which he had been laid in his coffin, and with the chaplet
upon his head, and seating himself at her feet, upon the bed, he
cried--

"O mother, mother, give over crying, else I cannot stop in my coffin,
for my shroud is never dry because of your tears, for they fall upon
it."

When his mother heard this she was sore afraid, and wept no more. And
the babe came upon another night, holding in his hand a little taper,
and he said--

"Look, mother, my shroud is now quite dry, and I can rest in my
grave."

Then she bowed to the will of Providence, and bore her sorrow with
silence and patience, and the little child returned not again, but
slept in his underground bed.

THE ARCH ROGUE.

There once lived, years ago, a man known only by the name of the Arch
Rogue. By dint of skill in the black art, and all arts of imposition,
he drove a more flourishing trade than all the rest of the sorcerers
of the age. It was his delight to travel from one country to another
merely to play upon mankind, and no living soul was secure, either in
house or field, nor could properly call them his own.

Now his great reputation for these speedy methods of possessing
himself of others' property excited the envy of a certain king of a
certain country, who considered them as no less than an invasion of
his royal prerogative. He could not sleep a wink for thinking about
it, and he despatched troops of soldiers, one after another, with
strict orders to arrest him, but all their search was in vain. At
length, after long meditation, the king said to himself--

"Only wait a little,