“Good!” cried the Youth.  “It is my opinion that you have hit the truth.  And now would you like to be changed back to your original form?”

“Indeed I would!” said the Bee-man, “I have the strongest yearning to be what I originally was.”

The Youth, who had now lost every trace of languid feeling, took a great interest in the matter, and early the next morning started off to inform the Junior Sorcerer that the Bee-man had discovered what he had been transformed from, and desired to be changed back to it.

The Junior Sorcerer and his learned Masters were filled with enthusiasm when they heard this report, and they at once set out for the mother’s cottage.  And there by magic arts the Bee-man was changed back into a baby.  The mother was so grateful for what the Bee-man had done for her that she agreed to take charge of this baby, and to bring it up as her own.

“It will be a grand thing for him,” said the Junior Sorcerer, “and I am glad that I studied his case.  He will now have a fresh start in life, and will have a chance to become something better than a miserable old man living in a wretched hut with no friends or companions but buzzing bees.”

The Junior Sorcerer and his Masters then returned to their homes, happy in the success of their great performance; and the Youth went back to his home anxious to begin a life of activity and energy.

Years and years afterward, when the Junior Sorcerer had become a Senior and was very old indeed, he passed through the country of Orn, and noticed a small hut about which swarms of bees were flying.  He approached it, and looking in at the door he saw an old man in a leathern doublet, sitting at a table, eating honey.  By his magic art he knew this was the baby which had been transformed from the Bee-man.

“Upon my word!” exclaimed the Sorcerer, “He has grown into the same thing again!”

 The griffin and the Minor Canon.

* * * * *

Over the great door of an old, old church which stood in a quiet town of a far-away land there was carved in stone the figure of a large griffin.  The old-time sculptor had done his work with great care, but the image he had made was not a pleasant one to look at.  It had a large head, with enormous open mouth and savage teeth; from its back arose great wings, armed with sharp hooks and prongs; it had stout legs in front, with projecting claws; but there were no legs behind,—­the body running out into a long and powerful tail, finished off at the end with a barbed point.  This tail was coiled up under him, the end sticking up just back of his wings.

The sculptor, or the people who had ordered this stone figure, had evidently been very much pleased with it, for little copies of it, also in stone, had been placed here and there along the sides of the church, not very far from the ground, so that people could easily look at them, and ponder on their curious forms.  There were a great many other sculptures on the outside of this church,—­saints, martyrs, grotesque heads of men, beasts, and birds, as well as those of other creatures which cannot be named, because nobody knows exactly what they were; but none were so curious and interesting as the great griffin over the door, and the little griffins on the sides of the church.