was with the saints.

But the child did not die. He lay weak and wasted and almost motionless
a long time, but slowly, as the spring-time drew near, and the snows on
the lower hills loosened, and the abounding waters coursed green and
crystal-clear down all the sides of the hills, Findelkind revived as the
earth did, and by the time the new grass was springing and the first
blue of the gentian gleamed on the Alps he was well.

But to this day he seldom plays, and scarcely ever laughs. His face is
sad and his eyes have a look of trouble. Sometimes the priest of Zirl
says of him to others, "He will be a great poet or a great hero some
day." Who knows?

Meanwhile, in the heart of the child there remains always a weary pain
that lies on his childish life as a stone may lie on a flower. "I killed
them," he says often to himself, thinking of the two little white
brothers frozen to death on Martinswand that cruel night; and he does
the things that are told him, and is obedient, and tries to be content
with the humble daily duties that are his lot, and when he says his
prayers at bedtime always ends them so: "Dear God, do let the little
lambs play with Findelkind that is in heaven."

OUIDA.

HORSE-RACING IN FRANCE.

CONCLUDING PAPER.

By the end of July the dispersion of the racing fraternity has become
general. Some have gone into the provinces to lead the pleasant life of
the chateau; some are in the Pyrenees, eating trout and _cotelettes
d'izard_ at Luchon; while those whom the Paris season has quite worn
out, or put in what they would call too "high" a condition, are
refitting at Mont Dore or else at Vichy, which is the Saratoga of
France--with this difference, that nobody goes to Vichy unless he is
really ill, and that very few were ever known to get married there. But
if our friend the sportsman should happen to have nothing the matter
with him, and should know of nothing better to do during the summer than
to go where his equine instincts would lead him, he may spend the month
of July at least in following what is called "the Norman circuit." This
consists of a series of meetings at different places, either on the
coast or very near the Channel, in that green land of Normandy which is
to France what the blue-grass region of Kentucky is to America--the
great horse-raising province of the country. Here the circuit begins
with the Beauvais meeting, always largely attended by reason