Marion Gray, a lovely girl of thirteen, one day tied on her gypsy hat, and, singing a merry song, bade good-by to her mother, and ran quickly toward the forest. She was the youngest daughter of Sir Edward Gray, a celebrated nobleman in great favor with the king, and consequently Marion had everything she wished for. When she reached the wood she set her basket down under a chestnut-tree, and climbing up into the branches she shook them till the ripe fruit came tumbling down. She then jumped down, and having filled her basket was proceeding to another tree, when all of a sudden a dark-looking man stepped out, who, when she attempted to fly, struck her severely with a stick, and she fell senseless to the ground. Meanwhile all was in confusion at the manorhouse. Marion’s faithful dog Carlo had seen the man lurking in the thicket, and had tried to warn his mistress of the danger. But seeing she did not mind, the minute he saw the man prepare to spring out he had run to the house. He made them understand that some one had stolen Marion. “Who, Carlo, who?” exclaimed the agonized mother. Carlo instantly picked up some A-B-C blocks which lay on the floor, and putting together the letters that form the word “Gypsies,” looked up at his master and wagged his tail. “The Gypsies!” exclaimed Sir Edward; “alas! if the gypsies have stolen our child, we shall never see her again.” Nevertheless they searched and searched the wood, but no trace of her was to be found. * * * * * “Hush! here she is! Isn’t she a beauty?” “Yes! but what is her name?” “Marion Gray. I picked her up in the wood. A splendid addition to our train, for she can beg charity and a night’s lodging; and then the easiest thing in the world is just to find out where they keep the key, and let us in. Hush! hush! she’s coming to.” These words were spoken by a withered hag of seventy and the man who had stolen her. Slowly Marion opened her eyes, and what was her horror to find herself in a gypsy camp! I will skip over the five long years of pain and suffering, and come to the end of my story. Five years have passed, and the new king sits on his royal throne, judging and condemning a band of gypsies. They are all condemned but one young girl, who stands with downcast eyes before him; but when she hears her doom, she raises her dark flashing eyes on the king. A piercing shriek is heard, the crown and sceptre roll down the steps of the throne, and Marion Gray is clasped in her father’s arms!