praying and singing, and going home with the choir singers, just as pious as ever. I am going to get a boy that writes a woman's hand to write to Pa, and--but I must not give it away. But you just watch Pa, that's all. Well, I must go and saw some wood. It is coming down a good deal, from a drug clerk to sawing wood, but I will get on top yet, and don't you forget it.” CHAPTER XXV. HIS PA KILLS HIM--A GENIUS AT WHISTLING--A FUR-LINED CLOAK A SURE CURE FOR CONSUMPTION--ANOTHER LETTER SENT TO THE OLD MAN--HE RESOLVES ON IMMEDIATE PUNISHMENT--THE BLADDER-BUFFER THE EXPLOSION--A TRAGIC SCENE--HIS PA VOWS TO REFORM. “For heaven's sake dry up that whistling,” said the grocery man to the bad boy, as he sat on a bag of peanuts, whistling and filling his pockets. “There is no sense in such whistling. What do you whistle for, anyway?” “I am practicing my profession,” said the boy, as he got up and stretched himself, and cut off a slice of cheese, and took a few crackers. “I have always been a good whistler, and I have decided to turn my talent to account. I am going to hire an office and put out a sign, 'Boy furnished to whistle for lost dogs.' You see there are dogs lost every day, and any man would give half a dollar to a boy to find his dog. I can hire out to whistle for dogs, and can go around whistling and enjoying myself, and make money, Don't you think it is a good scheme?” asked the boy of the grocery man. “Naw,” said the grocery man, as he charged the cheese to the boy's father, and picked up his cigar stub, which he had left on the counter, and which the boy had rubbed on the kerosene barrel, “No, sir, that whistle would scare any dog that heard it. Say, what was your Pa running after the doctor in his shirt sleeves for last Sunday morning? He looked scared. Was your Ma sick again?”