"You are both very good at supposing," said Mr. Dalton, laughing, "but it is sometimes better to _know_ about a thing than to guess at it." "I have read an account of the Plague," said Fred Smith. "It raged several months, all one summer, and one third of the people of the city died. Great numbers fled from the city, and so many died that they could not have any burial service, but just buried them in a great pit in the night. They built great bonfires in the streets hoping that the fire and smoke would prevent the spread of the disease, but heavy rains put out the fires. It was a dreadful time!" "Indeed it was," said Mr. Dalton; "the accounts of it are harrowing. And now what do you know of the Great Fire, Fred?" "I know that it started in a baker's shop near London Bridge, and that it burned over about five sixths of the city. It burned three days and nights. It was in September, after a very hot and dry summer, so that the houses built of wood were in a well-seasoned state, and made first-rate kindling wood. And then there was a wind that fanned the fire and carried sparks and cinders a long distance, so that new fires kept breaking out in different parts of the city. It is said that there were two hundred thousand people who lost their homes, and that the streets leading out of the city were barricaded with broken-down wagons which the people flying from the fire had overloaded with their goods." [Illustration: BABY HARRY.] "It was a terrible calamity," said Mr. Dalton; "but like many another it proved a blessing, for the new London was much better built." "Was the fire set by bad men, or was it an accident?" asked one of the boys. "Without doubt it was set accidentally, though many people thought otherwise. A monument was erected near the place where the fire started in memory of those who lost their lives in that terrible time, and there was an inscription upon the monument charging the Papists with the crime, but this unjust accusation was afterwards removed by the order of the public authorities. But I will not hinder your game any longer." "We like this sort of hindering," said one of the boys. "It makes it more interesting." Mr. Dalton soon returned to say, "Boys, there is a 'Great Fire' in the kitchen, and a pan of corn waiting to be popped, and a Bridget there who does not think boys a 'Great Plague.'" In less than half a minute there were no boys sitting around that table! F. H. BABY HARRY. BABY HARRY, three years old; Eyes of blue and hair of gold; Rosy cheeks which dimples grace; Loving, trustful little face Of my boy. "Mamma, please me wants a drink, Can 'oo get it, does 'oo fink?" Questioned thus my baby boy, As he dropped his book and toy Carelessly.