jurymen, a bustling little man, who presently came to him and smilingly slipped five guineas into his hand, saying that they were a present from the younger brother.

"Yonder is a very polite man," said the miller to his next neighbor in the box.

"I may well say so," replied the delighted juryman, "since he has given me ten guineas to drink our friend James's health." On further inquiry, the miller discovered that each man had received double the sum presented to himself.

He now turned his whole attention to the trial, which appeared to lean decidedly in favor of the younger brother; for, while a few witnesses timidly testified to the plaintiff's striking resemblance to the elder brother, others swore positively that the elder brother was dead and buried.

When his lordship came to deliver his charge to the jury, he took no notice whatever of several contradictions in the testimony of these false witnesses, but proceeded to discuss the evidence as if it had been overwhelmingly in James's favor.

When he had concluded, the usual question was put to the jury were they all agreed? The foreman arose, with his ten guineas jingling in his pocket, and was about to reply, supposing that all had been equally convinced by the same golden arguments, when the miller stepped forward, calling out, "No, my lord, we are not all agreed!"

"And pray," said his lordship, frowning with contempt and impatience, "what objections have you?"

"I have many objections, my lord! In the first place all these gentlemen of the jury have received ten pieces of gold from the younger brother, while I have received but five!"

After he had made this simple announcement, to the consternation of the court and to the amusement of the spectators, the supposed miller proceeded to point out the contradictory evidence which had been presented, in such a strain of eloquence that all present were filled with amazement. At length the judge, unable to restrain himself, called out with

O

vehemence, "Who are you? Where do you come from? What is your name?"

The miller calmly replied: "I come from Westminster Hall; my name is Matthew Hale; I am Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench; and, convinced as I am of your entire unfitness to hold so high a judicial position, I command you to come down from that tribunal which you have disgraced. I will try this case myself."

Sir Matthew then ascended the bench in his miller's coat and wig; ordered a new jury to be selected; re-examined the witnesses, and drew out confessions of bribery from those who had sworn to the elder brother's death. He then summed up the case anew, and it was unhesitatingly decided in the elder brother's favor.

Dramatization: Arrange the last courtroom form, and have two boys present it to the class.

scene in dialogue

LOW AIM IS CRIME

IFE is a leaf of paper white

L'

Whereon each one of us may write
His word or two; and then comes night.

Though thou have time

But for a line, be that sublime;
Not failure, but low aim, is crime.

-James Russell Lowell

THE PERSIAN AND HIS THREE SONS

A

RICH Persian, feeling himself growing old, and conscious that the cares and anxieties of business were too much for him, resolved to divide his goods among his three sons, reserving a small portion to himself as a provision for his later years. The sons were all well satisfied with the distribution, and each took his share with thanks and promised that it should be well and frugally used.

When this important business was settled, the father said to his sons, "There is one thing which I have not included in the share of any one of you. It is this costly diamond which you see in my hand. I will give it to the one who shall earn it by the noblest deed. Go, therefore, and travel for three months; at the end of that time we will meet here again, and you shall tell me what you have done."

The sons, accordingly, departed and traveled three months in different directions. At the end of that time they returned, and all came together to their father to give an account of their journeys.

The eldest son spoke first. "On my journey," said he, "a stranger entrusted to me a great number of valuable jewels, without taking any account of them. Indeed, I was well aware that he did not know how many jewels the parcel contained. One or two of them would never have been missed, and I might easily have enriched myself without fear of detection, but I did no such thing. I gave back the parcel exactly as I had received it. Was not this a noble deed?"

"My son," said the father, "simple honesty can not be called noble. You did what was right and nothing more. If you had acted otherwise, you would have been dishonest, and your deed would have shamed you. You have done well, but not nobly."

The second son now spoke: "As I was going on my journey, one day I saw a poor child playing by the margin of a lake and,

just as I rode by, it fell into the water and was in danger of being drowned. I immediately dismounted from my horse and, wading into the water, brought the child safe to land. All the people of the village where this occurred can bear witness to the deed. Was it not a noble action?"

"My son," replied the old man, "you did only what was your duty, and you could hardly have left the innocent child to die without making an effort to save it. You, too, have acted well, but not nobly."

Then the third son came forward to tell his tale. "I had an enemy," said he, "who for years had done me much harm and had sought to take my life. One evening, during my late. journey, I was passing along a dangerous road which ran near the summit of a steep cliff. As I rode cautiously on, my horse started at sight of something lying in the road. I dismounted to see what it was, and found my enemy lying fast asleep on the very edge of the cliff. Had there been the least movement on his part, he would have rolled over and have been dashed to pieces on the rocks below. His life was in my hands. I drew him away from the edge and then woke him and told him to go on his way in peace."

Then the old Persian cried out in a transport of joy, "Dear son, the diamond is thine; for it is a noble and a godlike act to succor an enemy and to reward evil with good."

A

BEHIND TIME

RAILROAD train was rushing along at almost lightning speed. A curve was just ahead, beyond which was a station, at which two trains usually met. The conductor was late, so late that the period during which the up-train was to wait had nearly elapsed; but he hoped yet to pass the curve safely. Suddenly a locomotive dashed into sight right ahead. In an instant there was a collision. A shriek, a shock, and fifty souls were in eternity; and all because an engineer had been behind time.

A great battle was going on. Column after column had been precipitated, for eight hours, on the enemy posted on the ridge of a hill. The summer sun was sinking to the west; reenforcements for the obstinate defenders were already in sight. It was necessary to carry the position with one final charge, or everything would be lost.

A powerful corps had been summoned from across the country, and if it came in season all would yet be right. The great conquerer, confident in its arrival, formed his reserve into an attacking column, and led them down the hill. The world knows the result. Grouchy failed to appear; the Imperial Guard was beaten back; Waterloo was lost; Napoleon died a prisoner at St. Helena, because one of his marshals was behind time.

A leading firm in commercial circles had long struggled against bankruptcy. As it had large sums of money in California, it expected remittances by a certain day; and if they arrived, its credit, its honor, and its future prosperity would be preserved. But week after week elapsed without bringing the gold.

At last came the fatal day on which the firm was bound to meet bills which had been maturing to enormous amounts. The steamer was telegraphed at daybreak; but it was found, on inquiry, that she brought no funds, and the house failed. The next arrival brought nearly half a million to the insolvents,