'It was the English,' Kaspar cried, 'Who put the French to rout; But what they killed each other for, I could not well make out.

'My father lived at Blenheim then,
Yon little stream hard by;

They burned his dwelling to the ground,
And he was forced to fly:

So with his wife and child he fled,

Nor had he where to rest his head.

With fire and sword the country round
Was wasted far and wide;

And many a wretched mother then
And new-born baby died;-

But things like that, you know, must be
At every famous victory.

They say, it was a shocking sight

After the field was won:

For many thousand bodies here

Lay rotting in the sun!

But things like that, you know, must be

After a famous victory.

'Great praise the Duke of Marlborough won, And our good Prince Eugene.' 'Why, 'twas a very wicked thing!'

Said little Wilhelmine.

‘Nay—nay—my little girl,' quoth he,

It was a famous victory!

'And everybody praised the Duke,

Who this great fight did win:'

'But what good came of it at last?'
Quoth little Peterkin:

'Why, that I cannot tell,' said he,

PERHAPS, now, you would like now to hear about another funny pet, one which people do not often think of having-my ugly, clever, nice old toad, whom I loved very dearly, and of whose sad death I cannot even now think without a twinge of regret.

It is not a story I am going to tell you, for he did nothing particular enough for that; but just a few of his funny ways, so that instead of crying out 'Nasty thing!' next time you meet with one of his brothers or sisters, you may remember my toad's love and intelligence, and so take an interest in all his kind.

To begin with, I must tell you how and where he was found. One moonlight night our boys were out walking; it was a cold winter evening, a hard frost had set in after some days of wet weather, and the cart-ruts, which in some places were many inches deep, had got frozen quite hard. In one of these ruts, on the evening I speak of, the sharp eyes of a little boy discovered a small black object moving about, and on closer inspection it proved to be a little half-frozen, half-dead toad.

Poor little thing! it was quite tired out with fruitless efforts to climb the steep, hard sides of the deep rut, into which it must have fallen, and where it would surely get crushed to death by the first cart that came lumbering that way. Of course such a fate for the poor little fellow was not to be thought

of; so a gentleman who did not mind toads picked him up carefully and carried him home in his

hat.

I had not been one of the walking party, and was therefore not a little surprised at my strange present, when, on being told to shut my eyes and open, not my mouth, but my hand, the half-frozen toad was dropped into it. I held him there some time, and he seemed very grateful for the wramth, turning his little body round and nestling his long thin limbs.

down into my palm, so that every portion of him might rest upon the warm flesh.

We were rather puzzled what to do with him for the night. Everybody's advice was in turn asked, considered, and, as is usually the case, rejected. At last, we made him a warm bed of hay, cut and rolled up in half a cocoa-nut shell; and as no one knew exactly what toads eat, we gave him bread and milk, pieces of bacon, bits of radish, and parings of cheese, covered him with a huge flower-pot to prevent his escape, and left him to his fate, or rather to his night's rest, on a small table in a corner of the

room.

The first thing next morning, I was up and away to my toad. He had not eaten any of the good things provided for him; but looked as bright and happy as possible. I had no idea of making a pet of him, so I carried him into the garden, and put him into a rockery where he could find shelter from the stormy weather, and perhaps some little creatures to eat, during the remainder of the winter.

However, he did not go away, but often came out when we were in the garden, so that at last I got into the way of picking him up, carrying him about, and talking to him, all of which he appeared to like immensely. He was also very fond of being tickled with a straw, or feather, or stroked with a finger; and would turn round his funny brown back that I might do it more easily.

At last he grew so tame as to come from any part