The next attempt proceeded smoothly up to the varnishing-point, when Jim said he would do it without the aid of heat. The picture was accordingly varnished and stood away to dry, when after a few minutes it was found to be covered with a white film which entirely obscured it. Fred declared he would never try again, but Jim, more persevering, decided to heat the plate a little, and see what happened. He passed it gently over the spirit-lamp flame, when, to his great relief, the cloud vanished, and the picture re-appeared, increased in brightness, and covered with a coating thick enough to protect it from scratches. These boys had many other mishaps and disappointments before they became skillful enough to be sure of obtaining a good picture. They learned, too, that rules in books sound very easy, but that much practice and experience are required to carry them out successfully. But having by care and perseverance once conquered all obstacles, they had no end of fun copying pictures for friends and school-mates. Having become very fair tin-typers, they are now ambitious to take negatives on glass, and print from them. If they succeed in doing this well, some day they may tell you all about it, if you are interested enough to listen. [Begun in No. 58 of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, December 7.] TOBY TYLER; OR, TEN WEEKS WITH A CIRCUS. BY JAMES OTIS. CHAPTER VI. A TENDER-HEARTED SKELETON. "Now, then, lazy-bones," was Mr. Lord's warning cry as Toby came out of the tent, "if you've fooled away enough of your time, you can come here an' 'tend shop for me while I go to supper. You crammed yourself this noon, an' it'll teach you a good lesson to make you go without anything to eat to-night; it'll make you move round more lively in the future." Instead of becoming accustomed to such treatment as he was receiving from his employers, Toby's heart grew more tender with each brutal word, and this last punishment--that of losing his supper--caused the poor boy more sorrow than blows would. Mr. Lord started for the hotel as he concluded his cruel speech, and poor little Toby, going behind the counter, leaned his head upon the rough boards, and cried as if his heart would break. All the fancied brightness and pleasure of a circus life had vanished, and in its place was the bitterness of remorse that he had repaid Uncle Daniel's kindness by the ingratitude of running away. Toby thought then that if he could only nestle his little red head on the pillows of his little bed in that rough room at Uncle Daniel's, he would be the happiest and best boy, in the future, in all the great wide world.