[HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ is perhaps the most popular of contemporary Polish novelists. He is a realist, but his realism is tempered by a dash of romance. Keenly in sympathy with the poor, the oppressed, the despised, and possessed of a genius for portraying the character of Polish peasants, he has a particular gift for depicting the sufferings of artistic natures dimly conscious of their gifts, or blighted by the curse of mediocrity. Sienkiewicz was born in 1845, and was educated at the University of Warsaw. In 1876 he went to California, and first attracted attention by letters descriptive of the New World contributed to the newspapers of his native country. These sketches were collected, and, together with some short tales, published at Warsaw in 1880 under the title of "Pisma." To his American experiences we owe Sienkiewicz's delightful story, "For Daily Bread," one of the most simple and touching narratives possible. His chief work, "With Fire and Sword," has been translated into English. This gifted writer was almost entirely unknown in this country until recently. At the present day he resides at Warsaw, where he edits a paper.] Weak and frail came he into the world. The neighbours, assembled round the bedside, shook their heads over mother and child. The blacksmith's wife, the most experienced amongst them, began to comfort the sick woman after her fashion. "You just lie quiet," she said, "and I will light a blessed candle. It's all up with you, poor dear, you must make your preparations for another world. Someone had better run for the priest to give you the last Sacraments." "And the youngster must be baptized at once," said another. "I tell you he won't live till the priest comes, and it will be some comfort not to have an unbaptized ghost spooking about." As she spoke, she lit a blessed candle, took the baby, sprinkled it with holy water, till it winked its eyes, and at the same time pronounced the words: "I baptize thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, and give thee the name of Jan," adding immediately (with a vague recollection of the form of prayer used for the dying): "And now depart, O Christian Soul! out of this world, and return to the place you came from. Amen." The Christian soul, however, had not the least intention of departing out of this world. It began, on the contrary, to kick with the legs of the body as hard as ever it could, and to cry, but in a fashion so feeble and whimpering, that it sounded to the women like the mewing of a kitten. [Illustration: "THE PRIEST WAS SENT FOR."] The priest was sent for, discharged his sacred office, and retired; but, instead of dying, the mother recovered, and, after a week, went back to work.