“We will keep it, by all means, John, but we can’t bring a delicate little thing like this up as we shall our own strong boys, who must work for their living.  This child may be claimed any day by its parents, so we must try and have it educated like a lady when it gets old enough.”

John was inclined to dispute the wisdom of this; but as its education was a thing of the far future, he very wisely thought it was useless to discuss it, and resolved to let matters shape themselves, feeling sure the baby would take its own place as it grew older.  One matter puzzled the good shepherd sorely.  He was most particular in having his own children baptised when they were a month old, and they could not tell whether this baby had been baptised or no, though the rector thought its parents were most likely Roman Catholics, in which case it would be sure to have been christened, as it was two or three months old.

The next question was, what was it to be called?  For, if baptised, they had no means of discovering its name.  But here Jack came to the rescue.

“Let’s call her Fairy, mother.  Dame Hursey says she is a fairy, and it is a pretty name.”

“So it is, my son; and though she is no fairy, but a real child like you, we will call her Fairy.  It is a very good name for her, and when she is old enough we will tell her why,” said the shepherd.

And so Fairy was the little stranger called as long as she lived in the shepherd’s family.

(To be continued.)

A PRINCESS WHO LIVED TWO LIVES.

A Romance of history.

There was no lovelier woman in all the Russias than Carolina, the wife of Alexis, eldest son and presumptive heir to Peter the Great.  Her beauty was not only that of the body, for her sweet temper and gentle disposition made her beloved by all who were brought in contact with her.  The only being who did not yield to the charms of her surpassing beauty and amiability was the one who ought to have prized her above all others—­her husband.  His nature was far too coarse and brutal to appreciate the treasure that he possessed, and the more he saw how universally beloved his wife was, the more did she become an object of aversion to him.  For some time he treated her with cold neglect, but by degrees he became more brutal in his behaviour, until one day, when she offended him in some trifling respect, he dealt her an inhuman blow which stretched her, apparently lifeless, at his feet.  Well pleased at being delivered so easily from what he only regarded as a hateful burden, he gave orders that she should be buried with all due pomp, and hastened away to another part of the kingdom.