And then only, when the strange order had been obeyed, when their duty had been nobly done in the face of death, did the Light Brigade--all that was left of it--turn to ride back. Alas! there were not then six hundred. Barely two hundred brave men, wounded, and blackened by smoke and powder, reached the British camp. The rest of the noble band lay dead or dying in the valley of Death. "When can their glory fade? O the wild charge they made! All the world wonder'd. Honour the charge they made! Honour the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred!" =The Coronation of King Edward VII= Never had a country a more popular king than King Edward VII, nor a more gracious queen than Queen Alexandra, and never was a happier day for the English people than that on which King Edward was crowned. A few days before the date fixed for the Coronation the king suddenly became ill, and a great gloom fell over the country, for it was feared that he might never be crowned. But though his illness was severe he soon began to get better, and when he was out of danger the hearts of his subjects were filled with joy and thankfulness. Guns were fired, church-bells pealed, and glad shouts and cheers rang out from the happy crowds which lined the streets of London, through which the king and queen, in the midst of their gay procession, drove to Westminster Abbey. Inside the gray old Abbey was one of the most brilliant gatherings the world has ever seen. Princes and princesses from other lands were there, in their robes of state; peers and peeresses, in velvet, and ermine, and glittering diamonds; grave statesmen; and soldiers in their gay uniforms. It was a grand and solemn scene when, before them all, the aged Archbishop of Canterbury drew near to the King, and with trembling hands placed the crown upon his head. "The Lord give you a fruitful country, and healthful seasons, victorious fleets and armies, and a quiet Empire." These are the words that the old man said when he had crowned the king, and each one of us will pray that all these blessings may indeed rest upon King Edward VII, and the great Empire over which he rules. [Illustration: KING EDWARD VII AND QUEEN ALEXANDRA] =WAR.= Over the broad, fair valley, Filling the heart with fear, Comes the sound of tramping horses, And the news of danger near. 'Tis the enemy approaching, One can hear the muffled drum, And the marching of the soldiers, As on and on they come. Soon the air is rent in sunder, Bullets flying sharp and fast, Many stout hearts fail and tremble, Every moment seems their last. On the ground lie dead and dying, Young and old alike must fall; None to come and aid the sufferer, Fight they must for freedom's call. Many are the anxious loved ones Praying for the war to cease, Waiting for the right to conquer, Bringing freedom, rest, and peace. E.S. [Illustration: SPYING ON INDIANS deg.] A BOY'S HEROIC DEEDS.