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o. x .4 l K How Jack Got Into the Pulpit. Jack, the little fairy about whom‘ this story is told, lived in a great wood. The woo-d was so full of birds and brooks and flowers that anyone would think Jack could have been perfectly happy playing there, but it was not so. He was a mischievous lit- tle fairy, and much of his time wasl spent in cutting unseemly capers. One of his favorite tricks was to hop on the back of any grasshopper that he chanced to meet in the field and take a wild ride over the waving“ tops of the grass. It always made the poor grasshopper so tired that he could not hop again for several days. One of the most daring of Jack’s tricks was to steal honey from the wild bees. One day he was very hun- gry for something sweet; the berries that he'foun-d did not satisfy him. “I must have honey,” he said to himself. “‘New honey, and nothing else.” Without more a-dxo he made a quick. trip (a ‘bee line he called it in his mischievous glee) to a certain hollow: trcc near the edge of the wood. He was relieved to find that most of the Lens were away gathering pollen; a few drones Iliad stayed behind, but they were sound asleep. Grasping as much of the honey- comlb as he could hold, he began a hasty rétreat. But instantly there ,was a buzzing in the air; the little iiheif turned paleâ€"aha know well ieno-ugfih What it meant. Glancing fear- !ulllly over his shoulder as he fled, he now a swarm of bees pursuing him. (They had been in hiding to watch for a marauder, and the bad fairy Jack had walked right into the trap. Jack realized his great danger. He belonged to a race of fairies without ‘Wln-gs, and ‘so he could not save him- selzf by flying. All at once he' stumbled over a large grasshopper that was napping under a dock leaf. Dropping his ill-gotten gains, he leaped upon the grasshopper’s back. "Hopi" he cried shrilly as he dug his heels into the creature’s side. But alas for Jack, it was a grass- ‘hoptper that had been ridden so hard that very morning that he could do ]well enough, too, who the rider had Jbeen. His heart s'ank. 1 “Hop,” he begged, “and I’ll never I} play a trick on you again.” ,1 v But the grasshopper only kicked. ,feebly. “My fine fellow,” he said, you, there are no hops left today. I’ll hop for you' “thanks to in me for nothing but sit and rest. Jack kneW' bo-morrow.” Jack’s enemies were almost upon ghim. “What on earth shall I do?” he I thought. lI The grasshopper spoke up sudden- ghr. .“Get into that flower,” he said. ‘ “And be quick about it.” 1 “What flower?" cried aJck. oh, where?” it His eyes fell upon a ball flower with ; a large deep blossom that grew near fbyw With one bound he was off the j grasshoppers back and at the foot of‘ ,‘hhe stalk; then, mounting rapidly hand over hand, he gained the top and vaulted over into the blossom. . 'Ilhe flower was so slippery inside that: he slip instantly out of sight. “ The bees came hurrying up; but: “Where, I‘Ltip your lot to ourselves and receive immediate cash payment and the highest market price. ‘We will treat you right. Wm. Stone Sons, Limited WOODSTOCK, ONTARIO I l l l l , den: ‘ walking!" after they had buzzed round a while without finding Jack, they gave up the chase and went home. At last Jack decided that it would be safe for him to venture out again. But the blossom was so slippery that he could not find a foothold anywhere, and he was not tall enough to catch hold of the edge. He had to stay where he was. And there in that flower he still is. The birds and the butterflies look after him; and the grasshoppers, for- getting how they once suffered at his hands, sit below and talk to him. But it is very hard, of course, to have to stay in one place all the time. As he grew taller his head and shoulders appeared above the edge of the blossom; he look-ed exactly like a preacher in a pulpit. In fact, he be- gan to be called after a while Jack- in-bhe-Pullpit. As time went on he began to like his home better; and now, it is said, he often gathers a crowd of young fairies round him and tells them his story. He tells them that if he had been minding his‘own business instead of robbing bees and riding grasshop- pers he would still be a free fairy. And it is said also that on account of Jack’s preaching there are every ‘ .s year fewer mischievous fairies in f a-iryl and. Polly-of-the-Garden. In days gone by nearly every ship that came to the Bermudas from lands where parrots live was sure to bring at least one parrot. The Bermudas are a group of coral islands in the Atlantic Ocean and be- long to our British Empire. They are so close together that they are joined by bridges. The climate is exactly right for parrots, because Jack Frost never visits the islands with his snow and ice. In the Bermudas the trees are always green, and the birds are always singing. There is never any- thing 'to harm a wellabehaved parrot; that'is, if its wings have been clipped. The poll parrot of this story lived in a garden at the east end of the islands close beside the sea. Her wings had been clipped, and so, if she had been a good s-tay-at-home sort of parrot, she would have had no trouble. The reason why parrots must have their wings clipped in the Bermudas is the ocean. If they have the use of their wings, they are sure to go flying out over the waterâ€"a dangerous perâ€" formance, since parrots cannot fly far without alighting. When they fly out over the ocean they ‘drop into the water sooner or later, and then, though they paddle round as long as they can, even the strongest of them is sure to drown. The children of the family where Polly-of-thc-Garden lived felt safe about their pet because of her clipped Wings. She was not shut up in her cage except at bedtime. Every mornâ€" ing, when the children opened the door of the cage, out she walked into the garden, and there she played all day. There was a high stone wall round the garden, and the gate in the‘ wall was usually kept closed. But one day the gate was left open and out walked Polly. The moment she found herself outside the gate she said what she often said in the gar- “Polly go walking! Polly g0 Then walking she went in her own queer way. the hard coral road to the wharf be- side the wide blue ocean, knows exactly how it happened, but somehow Polly slipped off the wharf. Fortunately, she did not fall into the waterâ€"that would have meant the her claws. There she clung, terribly Man ufsctu red by THE CANADIAN STEEL Hamilton - AND WIRE CO., Limited Canada She scuttled along across; No one ' lend of her. Instead, she saved herself. by catching the side of the wharf withl Wand tl the sky above and the blue water stretching away below her. At first the water was far below her; but as Polly clung there it came’ creeping up and up until it touched her tail feathers. The tide was comâ€" ing in. Of course Pol‘ly-of~the~Garden knew nothing about tides; she (lid not know'that the water was going to rise higher and higher until it would cover far more than her tail feathers. Nevertheless, she was very, very frightened. ' It was not long before the children found the grate open and Polly gone. Frightened because they knew well enough what had happened, they ran straight across the road to the wharf, calling as they went: “Polly, Polly, Polly! Where are you?" Polly heard then and answered faintly, “Poor Polly! Poor Polly!” The children heard that sad cry just in time to save poor Polly from drowning. One of the older boys reached over the edge of the wharf, loosen-ed Polly’s claws and lifted her from her dangerous perch. The poor little parrot was so cold that she did not say a word until she had been carried into the house and wrapped,> in a warm shawl. When she began to feel a little warmer she cocked her head on one side and said: “Polly wants hot tea!” How the children laughed! They gave her a cup of hot tea, and soon she was fast asleep on the safe perch of her cosy cage. She never ran away from the gar- den again, bu‘t ever after that when she would shake her head and say, “Poor Polly! Poor Polly!” the chil- dren were sure that she was thinking about her terrible adventure on the Have you ever heard the story of Gilligan? Gilligan was an Irishman, and he once got the position of station-mas- ter of a llttle wayside line of a not- muclrused little Irish branch railway. Gilligan was not accustomed to sending in reports. and us he had to send one in to headquarters every day he found it rather difficult work. First of all his reports were so long, and rambled so from one subject to another, that the oiliciuls at head- quarters could not understand them, so they requested him to make his re« ports shorter, but sensible. One day a light engine run 011‘ the ‘lines quite close to the station of iwhich Gilligan was station-muster. The following (lay, in wording his report, Gilligan said: “Engine off again, on again, gone " :- inguiniGilligun." Vim Perfectly Simple. "Do you ever catch any whales, cap- ituin‘?” uskcr the fair passenger on the ocean liner. "Often, ma‘am," answered the digni- fied captain. “How very wonderful! {me how you catch them." “We drop 21 few of the old sulzs on their mils, mai'zim." a. A baby kangaroo is only about four and cueâ€"half inches long. Shame on the man of cultivated :uste who permits refinement to de- velon into a fastidiousness that unfits himd'or doing rough work of a work- ;aday worlzl.â€"Theo iare Roosevelt. Please tell wharf. ‘ Short, But Confusing. l l - ,F“ to worst is yet to come" a“ Saving Money. Mrs. Douglilessi~“l saved the money to buy this coat, darling." Doughlessâ€"“How did you manage it, precious?” Mrs. »D.â€"-“I bought it with the money you gave me for a. new but and had the hat charged to your account. Our blood constitutes 7.7 per cent. of our weight. We do not demand the abundance which belongs to us, hence the leanness, the lack of fulness, the inâ€" completeness of our lives. We do not demand royally enough. We are content with too little of the things worth while. It was in- ‘ tended that we should live ; the abundant life. “w Tom Was Puzzled. An expedition was sent to one of the Southern States to observe the re- ‘cont eclipse of the sun. 1 The day before the event one of Its members said to an old dorky belong- ing to the house where he was stay- ;ing: "Tom, if you will watch your ‘chickcns toauorrow morning you’ll find that they’ll all go to roost at eleven o'clock." Torn was skeptical, but, sure enough at the time predicted the sky darken- ed and the chickens retired to roost. The Negro, amazed beyond measure, [sought out the scientist. l “Perfessor.” he asked, “how long !ago did you know dem chickens would go to roost?” “About a year ago,” he replied with a smile. “Well, if dat don't beat all! perfessor, a year ago wasn't even hatched!" :bâ€"‘___ Nothing Much. “Pa, what are ancestors?” “Well, my son, I'm one of yours. Your grandpa is another.” “Oh! Then why is it people brag about them?” Why, dem chickens The Slavinic alphabet contains forty-two letters. Sound is said to move at the rate of thirteen miles a. minute, and com- pared to light, it is slower than a snail. If We should hear a clap of thunder half a minute after the flash of lightning, we could conclude that I the discharge of electricity was about | six and a half miles away. Wheels turn easier and axles wear longer when they are properly lubricated with Imperial Mica Axle Grease. Its powdered mica flakes form a glassy surface for grease to work over. Thus friction is reduced and wear retarded, It costs less than any other grease because it lasts twice as long. Imperial Eureka Harness Oil keeps your harness pliable, strong and new-looking. It gives leather a rich, black, lasting finish, protects it from moisture, and adds years to its life. on repair bills. 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