h
they rubbed till they were tired, not a spark could they produce.

'Let me try,' cried Biernuga, the bony fish, but he had no better luck,
and no more had Kumbal, the bream, nor any of the rest.

'It is no use,' exclaimed Thuggai, at last. 'The wood is too wet. We
must just sit and wait till the sun comes out again and dries it.'
Then a very little fish indeed, not more than four inches long and the
youngest of the tribe, bowed himself before Thuggai, saying, 'Ask my
father, Guddhu the cod, to light the fire. He is skilled in magic more
than most fishes.' So Thuggai asked him, and Guddhu stripped some pieces
of bark off a tree, and placed them on top of the smouldering ashes.
Then he knelt by the side of the fire and blew at it for a long while,
till slowly the feeble red glow became a little stronger and the edges
of the bark showed signs of curling up. When the rest of the tribe saw
this they pressed close, keeping their backs towards the piercing wind,
but Guddhu told them they must go to the other side, as he wanted the
wind to fan his fire. By and by the spark grew into a flame, and a merry
crackling was heard.

'More wood,' cried Guddhi, and they all ran and gathered wood and heaped
it on the flames, which leaped and roared and sputtered.

'We shall soon be warm now,' said the people one to another. 'Truly
Guddhu is great'; and they crowded round again, closer and closer.
Suddenly, with a shriek, a blast of wind swept down from the hills
and blew the fire out towards them. They sprang back hurriedly, quite
forgetting where they stood, and all fell down the bank, each tumbling
over the other, till they rolled into the pool that lay below. Oh, how
cold it was in that dark water on which the sun never shone! Then in an
instant they felt warm again, for the fire, driven by the strong wind,
had followed them right down to the bottom of the pool, where it burned
as brightly as ever. And the fishes gathered round it as they had done
on the top of the cliff, and found the flames as hot as before, and that
fire never went out, like those upon land, but kept burning for ever.
So now you know why, if you dive deep down below the cold surface of
the water on a frosty day, you will find it comfortable and pleasant
underneath, and be quite sorry that you cannot stay there.

Australian Folk Tale.

The Wonderful Tune.

Maurice Connor was the king, and that's no small word, of all the pipers
in Munster. He could