"'I know it,' said the Polypop; 'My reason for it's plain; I hadn't time to leave the shop And catch the early train.' "'If that's the case,' the Snickersnee Replied, 'I think it's best For you to go upstairs with me, And straightway change your vest.'" "Now altogether," cried the Pad, enthusiastically. "One, two, three!" And then they all recited: "With that the couple walked along; They both were dressed in chintz; And if my memory's not wrong, I have not seen them since." "Hooray!" cried Jimmieboy, as they finished--so loudly that it nearly deafened the Pad, which jumped from his lap and scurried back to the table as fast as it could go. "What's that cheer for?" asked papa, looking down into Jimmieboy's face, and grabbing the Pencil, which was on the point of falling to the floor. "It's for Dream Poetry," murmured Jimmieboy, getting drowsy again. "I've just dreamed a lot. It's on the Pad." "Indeed!" said papa, with a sly wink at mamma. "Let's get the Pad and read it." The little fellow straightened up and ran across to the desk, and, grasping the Pad firmly in his hands, handed it to his father to read. "H'm!" said papa, staring at the leaf before him. "Blank verse." "Read it," said Jimmieboy. "I can't to-night, my boy," he answered. "My eyes are too weak for me to see dream writing." For between you and me that was the only kind of writing there was on that Pad. IV. A SUBTERRANEAN MUTINY. It seemed rather strange that it should have been left there, and yet Jimmieboy was glad that in grading his papa's tennis-court the men had left that bit of flat rock to show up on the surface of the lawn. It had afforded him no end of pleasure since he had first discovered it. As a make-believe island in a raging sea of grass, he had often used it to be cast away upon, but chiefly had he employed it as a vantage ground from which to watch his father and his father's friends at their games of tennis. The rock was just about large enough for the boy to sit upon and pretend that he was umpire, or, as his father said, mascot for his father's opponents, and it rarely happened that a game of tennis was played upon the court that was not witnessed by Jimmieboy seated upon his rocky coigne. The strangest experience that Jimmieboy ever had with this bit of stone, however, was one warm afternoon last summer. It was at the drowsy period of the day. The tennis players were indulging in a game, which, to the little onlooker, was unusually dull, and he was on the point of starting off in pursuit of something, it mattered not what, so long as it was interesting enough to keep him awake, when he observed a most peculiar thing about the flat stone. It had unquestionably become transparent! Jimmieboy could see through it, and what he saw was of most unexpected quality. "Dear me!" he ejaculated, "how very queer. This rock is made of glass."