[Illustration:  The Double Face.]

  Turn me over, pray.

  A word there is, five syllables contains;
  Take one away, no syllable remains.

  What is that which is lower with a head than without one? 
  Who was the first whistler? 
  What tune did he whistle? 
  How do you swallow a door? 
  What is that which lives in winter, dies in summer, and
    grows with its root upwards? 
  If you were to tumble out of the window, what would you fall against?

[Illustration:  The Cat-Erect.]

  Why is this like the Falls of Niagara? 
  If my puzzles are simple, and my pictures a fright,
  Then just laugh at me, and it will all
    B. WRIGHT.

This letter was the prime source of attraction to all the children, the rest of the day; and its reception formed an era in Oscar’s sick-day experience, not easily to be forgotten.  All the family, from Mr. Preston down to little George, set themselves to work to guess out the riddles; but in some of them, they found more than their match.  To Oscar, however, the letter was something more than a collection of drawings and puzzles.  It was a token of interest and sympathy from a boy towards whom he had never manifested a very friendly spirit.  Benjamin’s high standing in the school, both for scholarship and behavior, had awakened in Oscar a secret feeling of jealousy or resentment towards him.  He was a poor boy, too, and this by no means increased Oscar’s respect for him.  But now, Oscar began to feel ashamed of all this; and as instances of his unkind treatment of his generous classmate came up in remembrance, he wished he had the power to blot them from existence.  He determined thenceforth to “stand up” for Benjamin, and began to plan some way of making a return for his manifestation of good feeling.

Ella wanted to carry Benjamin’s letter to school, to show to the girls, but Oscar would not allow it to go out of his hands.  She then begged the privilege of copying it, to which he consented.  She did the best she could, no doubt, but her drawings probably did not quite do justice to the subjects; for Oscar declared that her copy was more comical than the original.  She lent it to some of her schoolmates, one of whom was roguish enough to show it to Benjamin himself!  He laughed heartily at the caricature; but thinking it was getting him rather more notoriety than he wished, he put it in his pocket, and that was the end of it.

In consequence of his many acts of imprudence, Oscar got along very slowly in his recovery.  Yet he was daily growing more impatient of his long confinement, and the utmost vigilance of his parents was necessary to restrain him from doing himself harm.  During stormy weather, which was not rare at that season of the year, he was not allowed to go out, and the time passed heavily with him.  One rainy afternoon, as he was sitting listlessly at a front window, watching for some object of interest to pass, a coach stopped at the door, and his heart beat high at the thought of his dulness being dispelled by the arrival of “company.”  The driver opened the coach door, and out jumped a stout, brown-faced man, whom Oscar at once recognized as his uncle, John Preston, from Maine.