"And on she went, while the children watched. But there was something so utterly ridiculous about the sight that Queen May and her followers, after various vain efforts to suppress their mirth, burst into one peal of laughter, which rang merrily through the old fort, and over the hillside. "It broke the charm, and in a moment the children became children again, and the grown people became as they were before. "There was a large flat field on the mountain top, in front of the gates of the old fort, and here all the exiles wore in a few minutes assembled. "The king was about to address them, when in a moment, no one knowing how she came there, the Fairy Set-'em-right stood among them, close beside his majesty. "'You have all learned a lesson, and I will put it into words for you,' she said." "Oh, dear!" interrupted Bryda, "here comes the moral! Don't make a very hard one, Uncle Jack, please!" He laughed. "I must finish this truthful story truthfully, miss. "She said, turning to the king and queen: "'Your fault was that you forgot you once were young yourselves.'" Bryda nodded her head very wisely. "'And you, children, forgot that you could not do without old people. That wicked law is at once repealed.' "'Certainly, ma'am,' said the king, bowing. "'Children are to be children, and behave as such, and be treated as such. Parents are parents, the children are not to forget that. Now go home all of you, and don't forget this one caution, _I've got my eye on you_.' "With these awful words the fairy vanished. And that's the end of the story." "And a very nice ending, too!" said Bryda. [Illustration with caption: IS THERE A PECULIAR FLAVOR IN WHAT YOU SPRINKLE FROM YOUR TORCH? ASKED SCROOGE--page 271 _From the drawing by T Leech_] BRDYA'S DREADFUL SCRAPE By Mrs. E. M. Field Bryda was awakened from her pleasant morning sleep by a strange sound. Her window was partly open, but something struck against the upper sash; it was not a bird that had lost its way, nor a wasp come to look for jam, for as Bryda raised her head something that could only be a handful of light gravel or shot struck the window again, and at the same time a clear, shrill whistle sounded outside. Bryda hastily sprang up. One does not care much about dress at nine years old, so in white nightdress and dark twisted hair she fearlessly put her head out of the window, and saw, to her delight, her cousin, Maurice Gray, a boy some two years younger than herself, with his queer, ugly little Scotch terrier, Toby, standing on the lawn. She need not be sad for want of a playmate to-day. "Get up and dress!" cried Maurice. "Aren't you ashamed, my Lady Lie-in-bed? Come out directly!" Bryda did not need a second invitation. A very short time indeed passed before she was by Maurice's side.