It is not an uncommon thing to find goats attending an army on its march, and in some of those provinces which the Russian Emperor wishes to steal from the Turks, herds of goats follow in the rear of the Turkish troops. They are generally milch goats, and afford an agreeable supply of milk to the officers and others of the various regiments. One of our own regiments had a couple of goats attached to it; the last pair had been presented to it by Her Majesty the Queen, but one of these having died, the remaining one now does duty alone, as you see him in the picture. Some goats have been taught very extraordinary tricks. They have been taught to climb a very high pole, by the aid of small pegs let into its sides, and then to balance themselves on its top. They have also been trained to take enormous leaps through blazing circles of fire: to dance to the sound of a tabor, and to do such wonderful things, that I am ashamed to relate them to you, for fear you would not believe me—therefore, let this be sufficient for a Chapter on Goats. [Illustration] The Rain; or, the Child, the Fairy, and the Magic Bird. A loving fairy watched over the slumbers of a beautiful child. The little maiden seemed to be dreaming uneasily, for she turned often in her sleep, then she rubbed a little ring on her finger, and then waving her arm upwards, she sang:— “Rain, rain, Go away. Come again Another day— Little Johnny Wants to play.” “Mary! Mary! my pretty one!” said the kind fairy, “what is the matter? That magic ring, which I gave you,—you have been rubbing it for the last ten minutes,—what is it you want with me?” “Did I rub the ring?” said Mary, starting up; “I did not know that:—but I do want you, dear fairy. You must know that I and my brother Johnny are invited to my auntie’s to-morrow, provided it be fine weather. It has been raining almost every day for the last week, and last night it looked very black, as if it would rain again. Now, dear fairy, grant me a favour?—Give me and Johnny a fine day for our visit to auntie’s.” The fairy looked tenderly on the child, but yet grave. “Mary, my sweet, did I not tell you, when I gave you the magic ring, that you were not to summon me except when you wanted comfort, or advice, or help to strengthen your character? I said you were never to ask gifts of me, nor any change of _outward_ circumstances. However, it is well you have called me; for I have something to tell you. I am about to leave the Fairy realm for a short time, and during my absence I cannot answer the rubbing of the ring. But I will not leave you without some help. Until my return, I will lend you one of the birds that sing in the gardens of our Fairy-land.” The fairy struck three times with her wand upon the floor, and a moment or two afterwards three or four little hands were lifted up, holding a golden bird-cage, with a beautiful canary in it.