Jollyman's hand; whereupon the valorous islander bounced to the opposite side of the road like a seed out of a burst balsam-pod. His feelings were calmed, however, when he found that Box made no attempt to get away from little Jollyman, and he recovered valour enough to lend his cart for Box's conveyance to Carne Abbas, and even to drive Box into town. When he got home again he bragged as if he had captured the bear singlehanded, after a terrific conflict.

Poor Box meanwhile pined in captivity, the most melancholy-mild of beasts. He did not rebuff Barney's attempts to comfort him-he was grateful for them in a hopeless sort of way; but it was evident enough that they did not console him. He was plainly pining away for lack of the society of his former cage-companion.

"Tell you what it is," said Barney one day fiercely to little Jollyman, "if the gov'nor won't buy my other bear back, I must slope. I can't bear to see this un a-dying by hinches because it's

so lonely.

Hinches, indeed!-it's dyin' by the foot a day. I've spoken to the gov'nor, but he won't listen to reason. There's only one chap he'd mind-that confounded Frenchman; but, ot course, I wouldn't demean myself to ask him to hinterfere. The bear 'ill die, though, if he don't git his mate back-that I'm sutten off."

Little Jollyman, however, did not scruple to ask M. Sohier to interpose, and the good-natured Frenchman at once answered-"A-ha, my leetle godson, is it dat M. Barney 'ave too mooch of pr-r-ride to supplier for himself? Mais oui, I vill do my possible."

M. Sohier did his possible-got Mr Jollyman to buy back the bear. When Box and Cox met after their separation, they rushed into one another's arms quite in the "Then, you are my brother," style. Growling Barney almost shed tears as he watched their delight, and M. Sohier, with his hand on chuckling little Jollyman's

shoulder, regarded the scene with the bland smile of a patron specially provided by Providence.

Barney did not exactly enjoy being indebted to the Frenchman, but he was so glad to see his shaggy brown pets jolly together once more that he never spoke harshly of or to M. Sohier again; and as we are always apt to think kindly of people who have sacrificed their pride in allowing us to do them a kindness, M. Sohier discovered all kinds of previously unsuspected-and perhaps still mythical-virtues in Barney.

CHAPTER X.

FAR NORTH.

HEN little Jollyman was between thirteen

WH

and fourteen-and had, therefore, begun to think that he ought no longer to be called "little" the Menagerie was exhibiting at Edinburgh. Its proprietor at that time was in want of a seal-and also of a holiday; he, therefore, determined to avail himself of a Granton steamer, and go to the Shetland Islands for both; and as little Jollyman, the doctor said, was in want of a change just then, good Mrs Jollyman proposed that her husband should take their godson with him, and Jollyman consented willingly enough.

I need not tell you that little Jollyman was halfwild with delight. He had never been on the sea,

and now he was going to the Shetland Isles, and seal-hunting, too! Here was an adventure.

He borrowed a Natural History book from Jollyman, and crammed the whole chapter about seals walruses, &c. Mrs Grimstone, to whom he used to retail his information on the subject, whilst waiting for the sailing of the steamboat, held up her hands in astonishment at the acquirements of her precocious son. Mrs Jollyman was almost equally proud of him, and if Jollyman, when told of the lectures on Natural History delivered by the young prodigy in his employ, laughed and said, "Why the young rascal has got it all out of my book," she would retort with as much tartness as it was possible for so good-humoured a woman to indulge in.

"Well, and if he has, it's all the more to his credit; you've had the book this many a year, and yet you can't tell such stories out of it—leastways, you don't, Jollyman."

Seals were out of M. Sohier's line, and M. Sohier