[Illustration: SLEEPY LITTLE FELLOWS!] _Volume 13, Number 43._ Copyright, 1886, by D. LOTHROP & CO. _August 28, 1886._ THE PANSY. [Illustration: NORMANDY WOMAN IN WOODEN SHOES.] ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON. BY MARGARET SIDNEY. X. GEORGE EDWARD ALLEN was now sixteen; hale, hearty, and full of fun. Truth compels me to state that he did not take first prize for English Composition, Latin, Mathematics, or even for general deportment, at the close of the summer term just past. He had no gold medals to carry home to his admiring parents, to be afterward hung up in his room for the delectation of any who might choose to examine. He was only an industrious, even-tempered boy of ordinary steady ability, but without the least capacity for shining before a large audience with the splendor of the examination hour. He did have bestowed upon him, however, at the last moment, in various little rencontres with master and under teachers, several little pleasant attentions that made his heart thrill, and the warm blood mount his brown cheek. “Allen, I must say I could give you a prize for loving the right, with all my heart.” This from the master, with that peculiar light in his gray eyes that seldom came; and because so seldom, was treasured deep by the one who brought it there. He went further: “My boy, I would give ten years of my life for such a son as you are.” They were in a side recitation room alone, and the master’s hand laid on the lad’s shoulder, no one saw, much less heard the words. George Edward looked up quickly and gratefully. “Good-by,” said the master. “If you want any help in vacation over a tough spot in any study, just drop me a hint of it.” There was a smile in the overworked face, that lighted up each hard line. “Good-by, Allen,” said an under teacher regretfully, as George Edward ran down the passage, “I wish you were to be near me this summer; I shall miss you,” and Mr. Bryan put himself in the way of the boy’s advancement. “I want to thank you for your good influence in the class-room. For you have done more than the teacher sometimes,” he frankly added. George Edward tried to protest, but it was no use. “Don’t be discouraged,” added the teacher kindly, “if prizes do not fall to you now; but keep on.” “I should have liked to carry one home to father and mother,” said George Edward honestly. “Of course; who of us does not?” assented Mr. Bryan. “Let me tell you though, my boy, that the prizes, though late often, that fall to industry and conscientious work, are better worth getting. Take that with you to think of this summer.”