d and mine. We are common children of a
noble mother, and for our mother's sake I say farewell."

And without waiting for the man's answer he passed from the house to
the street.

IV

Haggard and with rebellious limbs, Police-constable Bennett staggered
into the superintendent's office in the early morning.

"I have paid careful attention to your advice," he said to the
superintendent, "and I have passed across the city in search of
crime. In its place I have found but folly--such folly as you have,
such folly as I have myself--the common heritage of our blood. It
seems that in some way I have bound myself to bring criminals to
justice. I have passed across the city, and I have found no man
worse than myself. Do what you will with me."

The superintendent cleared his throat.

"There have been too many complaints concerning the conduct of the
police," he said; "it is time that an example was made. You will be
charged with being drunk and disorderly while on duty."

"I have a wife and three little children," said Bennett softly--"and
three pretty little children." And he covered his tired face with his
hands.

The Conjurer

Certainly the audience was restive. In the first place it felt that
it had been defrauded, seeing that Cissie Bradford, whose smiling
face adorned the bills outside, had, failed to appear, and secondly,
it considered that the deputy for that famous lady was more than
inadequate. To the little man who sweated in the glare of the
limelight and juggled desperately with glass balls in a vain effort
to steady his nerve it was apparent that his turn was a failure. And
as he worked he could have cried with disappointment, for his was a
trial performance, and a year's engagement in the Hennings' group of
music-halls would have rewarded success. Yet his tricks, things that
he had done with the utmost ease a thousand times, had been a
succession of blunders, rather mirth-provoking than mystifying to
the audience. Presently one of the glass balls fell crashing on the
stage, and amidst the jeers of the gallery he turned to his wife,
who served as his assistant.

"I've lost my chance," he said, with a sob; "I can't do it!"

"Never mind, dear," she whispered. "There's a nice steak and onions
at home for supper."

"It's no use," he said despairingly. "I'll try the disappearing trick
and then get off. I'm done here." He turned back to the audience.

"Ladies and