sitting on the floor with his hair full of feathers; then on to my father's burial, and my illness, and the removal farther and farther away from our native town until we found ourselves in London--scarcely anything, except what was painful, was left unspoken of. 'And there's an end to it all, mother,' I said, when we had brought the reminiscences up to the very night upon which we were conversing. 'No, my dear,' she replied, with a tender shake of her head, not an end; there are brighter pages to come in my darling's life.' 'Do you know, mother,' I said, as I stood by her side at the door of her bedroom, 'I have often thought of grandmother's long stocking, and fancied that one day we should find a treasure somewhere.' My mother laughed. 'Why, my dear, where on earth would you look for it? We have not a thing left that belonged to your grandmother.' 'Yes, we have; you don't forget that brown monkey-man that used to stand on the mantelshelf and wag its head at us?' 'I remember it perfectly, dear child; you don't mean to say you have kept it all this time?' 'It is in my box now; I shall take it out to-night, and have a look at it.' 'You don't suppose the treasure is in that?' said my mother, laughing. 'No; though Jessie and I did think one day that we had made a discovery. Good-night, mother.' 'Good-night, dear child, and God bless you. Remember, my dear, there are brighter days to come, and your mother will live to see them.' That, before she went to sleep, she prayed for those brighter days, I was certain, but I scarcely dared to hope that what she so fondly desired would ever take place. Before I went to bed I took from my box the stone image of the brown monkey-man; it was at the very bottom of my box, which I had not opened for many months, for the reason that it contained all the sketches I had made of Jessie, and which I had put away when I lost her. But for these, and the tender thought which they excited, I should have given more attention to the stone image which looked uglier and more repulsive than ever. How such a hideous thing could be considered an ornament it puzzled me to think; but it occurred to me that there were more flagrant violations of art than this. On the previous day I had seen a ghastly death's-head pin in the cravat of a coxcomb, who seemed very proud of it. I set the image of the monkey-man on the mantelshelf, and slowly replaced the sketches in my box, lingering over them with fond regret.