A little boy of my acquaintance, partly perhaps from nervousness, was subject to violent fits of crying, most irritating and perplexing to deal with. Once started--often by some absurdly trivial cause--there was literally no saying when Charley would leave off. One day, after an unusually long and exhausting attack, to his mother’s great relief, the floods gave signs of abating; she left the room to fetch him a glass of water. On her return the sobs had subsided. “Oh, Charley,” she said, with natural but ill-advised expression of her feelings, “you have really worn me out. If ever you have children of your own, who cry like you, I hope you will remember your poor mother.” Forthwith, to her dismay, the wails and tears burst out again, and it was not till some time had elapsed that the child would listen to her repeated inquiries as to what in the world he was crying for now. At last came the little looked-for reply. “It wasn’t because of this morning,” (what had started the fit I do not remember) “I’d left off crying about that. It was you thinking I would bring up my children so badly.” Anecdote No. 2 relates to a more exalted personage than Master Charley. Several years ago I was gratified by hearing from a friend then resident in Italy and acquainted with the Court circle, that one of my earliest books for children, _Carrots_, had found great favour in the eyes of the young Crown Prince, then a mere boy. His exact sentiments on the subject were conveyed to me in a letter written at his request. The story had amused and interested him at a moment when he was specially in want of entertainment, for it was just at the date of the death of his grandfather, the great Victor Emanuel, and his little namesake had not been allowed to go out riding or driving as usual for several days. He did not know how he would have passed the time but for _Carrots_, he said. He wished Mrs. Molesworth to know this, and he also wished to make a request to her. Would she write another book as soon as possible--(not, as one might have expected, of further details of my little hero’s boyhood, but)--to tell how “Carrots” brought up his own children when he became a big man and was married! ABOUT PEGGY SAVILLE. BY JESSIE MANSERGH (Mrs. G. de Horne Vaizey), Author of “Sisters Three,” etc. CHAPTER XVIII. “Something has happened! Something terrible has happened to the child! And she was left in our charge. We are responsible. Oh, if any harm has happened to Peggy, however, ever, ever, can I bear to live and send the news to her parents----” “My dearest, you have done your best; you could not have been kinder or more thoughtful. No blame can attach to you. Remember that Peggy is in higher hands than yours. However far from us she may be, she can never stray out of God’s keeping. It all seems very dark and mysterious, but----”