He could not escape now if he had wished to. He did not wish to. One day the _Polyphemus_ met an enemy's ship and the cannon were soon sending shot into each other like leaden hail. Many dropped dead. Johnny did every thing he was told to, often going right in the midst of danger. He was brave. Not a shot, however, hit him. He was in many other dreadful battles on the sea where the shot were flying all about him; but he always came off unhurt. [Illustration: "SIR JOHN AND THE EREBUS."] Then, being now a man, he was put in command of a ship. He had sailors and soldiers under him. He said to one "go here or there," and he went; to another, "do this," and he did it. He was captain over a big ship, and at the call of his country, away he sailed over the great ocean to the North to find out what he could about things in that strange icy land. He was gone several years, and travelled many thousand miles. One day as his wife and some friends stood on the wharf where the ships land and looked out upon the ocean, they saw a little thing no bigger than your hand. Then as they kept looking and wondering what it might be, it grew larger and larger, and came nearer, and through their spy glass they saw masts, sails, and flags flying from the very tops, and then, behold! they read the name of the ship and they knew that it was the very ship on which, not Johnny, nor John, but Sir John--for that was his name now--had sailed more than three years before. How the ship soon rode into the harbor and dropped her strong anchor into the water to hold her fast, and how the soldiers and sailors and Sir John came on land, and what he did and said and what his happy wife, Jane, did, and how handsome she looked I can't tell you. But there's another part I will tell you next time. C. M. L. THE LITTLE SWEEP. SEVERAL years ago, an effort was made to collect all the chimney-sweepers in the city of Dublin, for the purpose of education. Amongst others came a little fellow who was asked if he knew his letters. "O yes, sir," was the reply. "Do you spell?" "O yes, sir," was again the answer. "Do you read?" "O yes, sir." "And what book did you learn from?" continued his interrogator. "O, I never had a book in my life, sir," said the manly little fellow. "And who was your schoolmaster?" "O, I never was at school." Here was a singular case. A boy could read and spell without a book or master. But what was the fact? Why, another little sweep, a little older than himself, had taught him to read by showing him the letters over the shop doors which they passed as they went through the city. His teacher, then, was another little sweep like himself, and his book the sign-boards on the houses. What may not be done by trying? [Illustration: ROUND THE FAMILY LAMP] A GAME FOR THE EVENING OF WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY. DEAR PANSIES: