terrier, a new Muggins given her by Mr. Perrowne, but which she called Guff, ran barking to meet the approaching party, and the animal’s mistress, following it, was soon in the arms of long absent friends.  “Where is Eugene?” she cried, in a tone of disappointment.  “Where is Mr. Wilkinson?” asked Mrs. Carruthers, in concern.  “We have lost them for a little while,” replied the ladies, cheerfully.  So they changed their things, unpacked their trunks, dispensed many gifts, brought through all sorts of custom houses, and assembled in the drawing-room to await the stated six o’clock tea.  The clock was on the stroke, when they all heard singing, on the road, of two male voices:—­

For, be it early morning,
Or be it late at night,
Cheerily ring our footsteps,

                        Right, left, right!

Then two jovial pedestrians came swinging through the gate, with the old knapsacks on their backs, and newly cut staves in their hands.  They responded heartily to the varied salutations of the company, and, as each bowed himself over the woman he loved best, they said:  “God has been very good to us, and has sent us more than a marshal’s baton through these two knapsacks.”

* * * * *

Pleasant were the two summer months at Bridesdale and Tillycot, with visits to the Manse and Cubbyholes, to Bangslea and the Beaver River.  Two little Pilgrim girls and a Toner boy appeared before the visitors went home; and, soon after their arrival at their homes, they learned that Basil primus was marching Basil secondus in his arms, clad in a nocturnal surplice.  Mr. Bigglethorpe had had his baby christened Felix Marjoram, regarding the latter botanical word as a masculine equivalent of Marjorie.  When, next year, the welcome visitors came to Flanders from Toronto and the far south, they brought each a maid and a warm little bundle.  The bundle of Mrs. Coristine was called James Farquhar, and that of Mrs. Wilkinson was Marjorie Carruthers.  When they cried, Mr. Coristine, M.P., and Dr. Wilkinson, if they were about, carried them round, singing outlandish songs; when they were good, the parents laid two knapsacks over a rag on the lawn, put pillows on top, and the babies against the pillows, betting quarters as to which would kick the highest.

The culprits were all set free or left unmolested.  The two Davis brothers disappeared, evidently across the lines.  Old man Newcome is said to have been converted by Father Newberry and to be living a life in keeping with the exalted station of his daughter Serlizer.  Reginald Rawdon’s son was looked up by Mr. Bangs, and started in business in a new town, as a country store-keeper, on part of his uncle’s ill-gotten money.  Monty, growing a big lad, has charge of the farm at Bangslea, and, to see him and his grey-haired, but otherwise young-looking, mother, none would think they had ever been deprived of their reason.  The character of Nagle, alias Nash, has