One morning, a menagerie, or collection of wild beasts, was to enter the city in grand procession.  There were to be several elephants and camels on foot, besides hundreds of other animals (invisible) in carriages.  There was also to be a mammoth gilt chariot, filled with musicians, and drawn by ever so many horses.  The procession was to pass very near the street where Oscar lived, and he intended to go and see it; but when the morning came, there was a cold, drizzling rain, with an uncomfortable east wind, and his mother told him he must not think of going out.  He did think of it, however, and not only thought of it, but went.  While his mother was up stairs, he quietly slipped out, and went to the corner the procession was expected to pass.  There he waited about an hour, until he became thoroughly wet and chilled, and then returned home, without seeing the sight; for the showmen had shortened their intended route on account of the storm.  He entered the house, vexed by his disappointment and the uncomfortable plight he was in; and when his mother mildly reproved him for his conduct, and entreated him to be more careful of himself, he only replied that he did not wish to live, if he must be shut up in the house all the time.  This act of imprudence and disobedience made him a close prisoner in the house for several days, besides causing him no little suffering.

Oscar employed much of his leisure time in reading, during his confinement in-doors.  His acquaintances lent him many interesting books, with which he beguiled the weary hours.  One day, happening to think of a volume belonging to his classmate, Benjamin Wright, which he thought he should like to read, he sent word by Ralph that he wished to borrow it.  The next morning Benjamin brought it to school, and Ralph took it home to Oscar.  On removing the paper in which it was wrapped up, a letter dropped out, which Oscar found was directed to himself.  He opened it, and a smile lit up his countenance as he glanced over the sheet, which was filled up with drawings and writing of an amusing character.  Benjamin was quite famous among the boys for the skill and facility with which he made sketches, and in this letter he had given a curious specimen of his artistic talent.  The following is a copy of this production: 

DEAR OSCAR: 

  I am sorry to hear you ’re in weakness and pain,
  And I send you a book to beguile your tired brain;
  I send also some puzzles, to stir up your wit,
  And tempt you to laugh, when you really don’t feel like it one bit!

[Illustration:  A Queer Name.]

  What a queer name!

  What do we all do when we first get into bed? 
  Why is swearing like an old coat? 
  What is that which is lengthened by being cut at both ends?

  My first, if you do, you won’t hit;
  My second, if you do, you will have it;
  My whole, if you do, you won’t guess it.