ch her!

But who is that? Can it be Fatima? It is Fatima, waving her arms wildly
as she speeds onward. She is on the bank! She is there! She grasps the
child! And the train plunges past me with a wild glare; and there,
before me, is my baby, my golden-haired baby, safe and unharmed, but
Fatima lay dying on the iron rail. I clasped her to my heart, and called
her name amid my sobs. She lifted the long, dark eyelashes, and smiled.
"Allah be praised!" she murmured. Then in her weak, broken English she
said:

"Me do something wid dis poor arm; me die for you baby!" She fell back
in my arms; and so we carried her to my home, white and insensible.

But she did not die. The deformed arm had to be severed from the
shoulder, but her life was saved; and to-day, surrounded by all that
grateful hearts can give, she is one of the happiest little creatures on
the banks of the Nile.

A ST. ULRIC DOLL.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE CATSKILL FAIRIES."

The steam-ship _Columbine_ was crossing the ocean from Liverpool to New
York. On the deck the passengers walked about, looking at the sea and
sky. Occasionally they saw a flock of gulls circling about overhead, or
a shoal of dolphins leaping up in the blue waves. Among these passengers
was the shy gentleman. Now the shy gentleman was tall and large, with a
full brown beard, which should have made him quite bold, but he was not.
If a stranger spoke to him, he blushed, and if he tried to say something
really wise, he merely stammered, so that his meaning was lost. As for
tea-cups and wine-glasses, he always broke them with his elbow, or by
allowing them to slip through his big fingers, while chairs and little
tables seemed placed in his way for the sole purpose of his tumbling
over them.

In his cabin was his portmanteau, filled with all sorts of treasures. A
Paris doll and her wardrobe were given the place of honor. The beautiful
blonde hair of this fashionable lady must not be disarranged, and the
boxes containing her dresses and gloves, her boots, mantles, and
parasols, required much space. She was a very important person. In a
corner was wedged the case of one of those mechanical bears covered with
black fur, and wound up by means of a key in his side. In the opposite
corner were the Venetian lion of St. Mark, made of brass, trinkets of
straw and glass, and a little Neapolitan boy in mosaic on the lid of a
box. The St. Ulric doll, folded in a bit of tissue-paper, had been
allo