the process of
allotment. All the characters in the pictures had to be assigned and
dealt out among us, according to seniority, as far as they would go.
When once that had been satisfactorily completed, the story was allowed
to proceed; and thereafter, in addition to the excitement of the plot,
one always possessed a personal interest in some particular member of
the cast, whose successes or rebuffs one took as so much private gain or
loss.

For Edward this was satisfactory enough. Claiming his right of the
eldest, he would annex the hero in the very frontispiece; and for the
rest of the story his career, if chequered at intervals, was sure of
heroic episodes and a glorious close. But his juniors, who had to put
up with characters of a clay more mixed--nay, sometimes with undiluted
villany--were hard put to it on occasion to defend their other selves
(as it was strict etiquette to do) from ignominy perhaps only too justly
merited.

Edward was indeed a hopeless grabber. In the "Buffalo-book," for
instance (so named from the subject of its principal picture, though
indeed it dealt with varied slaughter in every zone), Edward was the
stalwart, bearded figure, with yellow leggings and a powder-horn, who
undauntedly discharged the fatal bullet into the shoulder of the great
bull bison, charging home to within a yard of his muzzle. To me was
allotted the subsidiary character of the friend who had succeeded in
bringing down a cow; while Harold had to be content to hold Edward's
spare rifle in the background, with evident signs of uneasiness. Farther
on, again, where the magnificent chamois sprang rigid into mid-air.
Edward, crouched dizzily against the precipice-face, was the sportsman
from whose weapon a puff of white smoke was floating away. A bare-kneed
guide was all that fell to my share, while poor Harold had to take the
boy with the haversack, or abandon, for this occasion at least, all
Alpine ambitions.

Of course the girls fared badly in this book, and it was not surprising
that they preferred the "Pilgrim's Progress" (for instance), where women
had a fair show, and there was generally enough of 'em to go round; or
a good fairy story, wherein princesses met with a healthy appreciation.
But indeed we were all best pleased with a picture wherein the
characters just fitted us, in number, sex, and qualifications; and this,
to us, stood for artistic merit.

All the Christmas numbers, in their gilt frames on the nurser