"Gulla—hubly—olla—bolee!" shouted the Little Panjandrum, pointing to the animals with his umbrella.

"Oh, they're all right, your Importance," said the Dodo; "they are friends of mine."

"Friends, indeed!" exclaimed the Ambassador, coming from where he had been hiding behind a tree. "Pretty friends! What do you call the creatures?"

"Oh, there's the Archaeopteryx, you know, and the Eteraedarium, and the Palaeo——"

"Stop! stop!" interrupted the Ambassador, as each of the animals mentioned bowed gravely. "I absolutely decline to know creatures with names like those. I'm sure they are not respectable, and I'm not at all sure, even now, that they are not dangerous; however, I shall know how to deal with them presently. The penalty for alarming the Little Panjandrum is a very severe one." And he frowned very sternly at the creatures, who looked rather uncomfortable, and waddled off in the direction of the lake, whispering together in a decidedly scared way.

"You didn't tell me you had all these hideous objects with you," continued the Ambassador, addressing the Dodo.

"I thought you knew," stammered the unlucky bird; "they are prehistoric, you know," he added, apologetically.

[Illustrastion: There was some consolation, he was allowed to wear his gloves.]

"That only makes it worse," declared the Ambassador. "In that case they ought to be dead, every one of them, ever so long ago. They have no right to be prowling about at a highly-respectable place like the Crystal Palace. No wonder there's nobody about; they've frightened them away, that's what it is. And you're to blame as much as anybody for bringing them here."

"I didn't!" gasped the Dodo.

"You did," said the Ambassador, emphatically. "You said they were your friends; so they must have come with you. And I'll tell you what, in order to prevent you from picking up any more undesirable acquaintances, you shall just commence your duties as Umbrella Bearer at once," and, untying the ribbons by which the Little Panjandrum's attendant was attached to His Importance, the Ambassador, bringing forth a heavy pair of chains from his capacious pockets, proceeded to chain the Dodo up to the Little Panjandrum's waistband.

The poor Dodo looked the picture of misery as the Umbrella was put into his hand.

"M—may I have m—my gloves?" he whimpered.

The Ambassador, after considering a minute, gave his consent, on the score that it might improve his appearance, and caused the black attendant to hunt for the missing one, which had been thrown down on the ground near to the roundabout.

He soon returned with it, and the Dodo, with a delighted chuckle, put the pair on, and, after smoothing them carefully, regarded his hands very complacently, and seemed to consider having them some compensation for the degraded occupation to which he had been put.

"I'll go now and settle the others," declared the Ambassador. "What did you say their names were?" he inquired, sternly, of the Dodo.

The poor bird called out the names one by one, and the Ambassador carefully entered them in his pocket-book, and then stalked majestically away in the direction of the lake, while the Little Panjandrum settled himself on a gaudily-colored rug, which the black attendant carefully spread on the ground at his feet, and with a self-satisfied smile on his little round face gravely twiddled his thumbs and took no notice of anybody.

"Go and see what he does to them," whispered the Dodo, referring to the Ambassador and the creatures.

Nothing loth, the children ran off to the lake to see what was happening. Pushing aside the bushes, they could see the Ambassador standing on the edge of the path, waving a wand in one hand, while in the other he flourished a legal-looking document.



The prehistoric creatures were scrambling through the water, and getting as far away as possible on to the islands in the middle of the lake.

"All you Palaeotheriums, Eteraedariums, Archaeopteryx, Megatheriums, Pleisiosauruses, Ichthyosauruses, and other prehistoric wretches, in the name of the Panjandrum, I command you—be turned into stone."

When the Ambassador uttered these terrible words a most singular thing happened. In whatever attitude the creatures were they remained so; and gradually each assumed a stony and lifeless expression, and the spell or incantation which the Ambassador had pronounced had evidently taken effect.

The children were very much alarmed, and ran back to the Dodo, and in a hurried whisper informed him of what had occurred.

"Turned all the prehistoric animals into stone, has he?" said the bird, gleefully; "then I can see a splendid way out of my troubles. Wait till the Ambassador returns, and you will see some capital fun." And the Dodo struck a rigid attitude, and remained in that position, totally disregarding the questions with which the children plied him.



CHAPTER XXIII.

THE DODO'S LITTLE RUSE.

The State Umbrella, which the Dodo had been carrying, fell to the ground with a crash, and so startled the Little Panjandrum that he jumped to his feet and nervously tried to run away. The chains, however, by which the Dodo was attached to his girdle, prevented him from doing so.

The bird, with his beak in the air, and his gloves extended in a most grotesque attitude, was immovable and rigid as stone. Not a muscle moved, and the Little Panjandrum, after staring at him a moment, called out, angrily—

"Olla—balloo—calle—gablob?"

There was not the slightest movement on the part of the bird, and just then the Ambassador returned.

"Hullo! What's the trouble?" he cried, staring at the Dodo.

"Gablobbee—balloo—olla—wobble!" said the Little Panjandrum, excitedly.

"What!" exclaimed the Ambassador, "something gone wrong with the Dodo? Here, what's the matter with you?" he continued, giving the bird a shake.

The Dodo didn't budge an inch, but continued in the same position, his eyes fixed in a stony stare.

"I can't think what's wrong with him," declared the Ambassador, with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Perhaps he's turned into stone, like the others," suggested Dick, mischievously.

"Ah!" said the Ambassador, clapping his hand to his forehead in a dramatic manner; "that's what it is, depend upon it. Good gracious! how unfortunate. Let's see, what did I say when pronouncing the spell?"

"Why, after mentioning most of the creatures' names, you said, 'and all other prehistoric wretches.' I remember quite well," said Marjorie, "because I thought at the time it was rather rude of you to call them wretches."

"H'm! Then he must have been a prehistoric wretch," said the Ambassador, absently. "Dear me! I always knew he was extinct, but I had no idea he was antediluvian as well. That accounts for a lot of things. No wonder he was eccentric." And he gazed at the Dodo quite sorrowfully.

"Well, well," he resumed, "it can't be helped now. We must make the best of a bad matter; all the talking in the world won't restore him to life again." And he turned to the Little Panjandrum and entered into a lengthy conversation with him in their native language, which the children could not understand in the least.



The Little Panjandrum seemed greatly distressed at the disaster which had befallen the Dodo, and, it appeared, insisted upon a monument being erected to his memory. Thereupon the Ambassador, by a brilliant inspiration, thought of the novel plan of making the bird act as his own statue.

"As he is turned into stone," said he, "we have only to find a pedestal to put him on, and there we are."

A little way off, a stone Cupid, rather the worse for wear, stood beside the pathway, and this, the Ambassador decided, should be removed to make way for the Dodo.

The united efforts of the Little Panjandrum's suite (who had by this time returned, having been assured that the creatures which had so alarmed them had been rendered harmless) soon succeeded in overthrowing Cupid from his pedestal, and after a great deal of pulling, pushing, and straining, the Dodo, still posing in his grotesque attitude, was stuck up in his place.

"There must be an inscription," said the Ambassador, and, rummaging about in his pockets, he brought forth a piece of black crayon. "THE DODO, NOW FORTUNATELY EXTINCT," he wrote in large letters, and then stood back to admire the effect.

[Illustrastion: The Dodo's Monument.]

The Little Panjandrum beamed approval, and calling together his suite, the Black Attendant once more raised the State Umbrella over His Importance's head, and the tom-tom and Jew's harp began their strange music, while the Ambassador took a hurried leave of the children, and the cortege passed out of sight. Fainter and fainter grew the sound of the instruments, and the children, somewhat alarmed at being left all alone, were half undecided whether to follow or not, when their attention was called to a smothered giggling at the back of them.

Turning around, they beheld the Dodo holding his hands to his sides, and shaking with suppressed laughter.

"Ho! ho! ho!" he laughed, dancing about on the pedestal, "haven't I tricked them beautifully? Turned to stone! The Dodo, now fortunately extinct! Ha! ha! ha! he! he! what a lark! They'll find I'm not so extinct as they think." And, jumping down, he made a grimace in the direction in which the Little Panjandrum and suite had vanished.

"I think I've got the best of them this time," he continued, triumphantly.

"But come, let's get out of this as soon as possible. You want to get to London, don't you? Let's start at once, if not sooner."

"But, I say, what are we going to do for money?" said Dick. "One can't get to London without that, you know."

"Oh, we'll find a way somehow," said the Dodo, hopefully. "Come along."

So the children all trudged back to the Palace again. Fidge, who was very glad to see his old friend the Dodo restored to life again, wouldn't leave his side, but trotted along with him, chatting merrily.

"Ah!" said the Dodo, as they went up the steps leading into the great hall, "there's my old friend the Missionary; perhaps he will be able to help us out of our difficulty." And going up to the gentleman, he gave him a playful pat on the shoulder, and exclaimed, pleasantly—

"Here we are again, you see!"

The Missionary started nervously, and peered at the Dodo through his glasses.

"Oh—er—how do you do?" he cried, hurriedly, giving a rather startled glance all round him. "Are your other friends with you?"



"Oh, you mean the Eteraedarium, and the Palaeotherium. No—they—er, they've met with a rather nasty accident. They've been turned into stone."

"Bless me!" exclaimed the Missionary, looking greatly concerned. "You don't say so! What an extraordinary thing to happen. I had no idea that there were any petrifying waters hereabouts."

"Well, they're turned to stone, anyhow," said the Dodo, "down by the lake there. It's rather awkward for us, you see, because we can't stop here forever by ourselves, and we haven't any money to get home with."

"My dear Sir," said the Missionary, generously taking out his purse, "can I be of any assistance to you?"

"It's very kind of you," said the Dodo.

"Not at all," cried the Missionary, heartily, pressing some money into the Dodo's glove, which, of course, immediately fell off and disconcerted the Missionary very much, while the Dodo scrambled about and picked up the scattered coins.

The children thought it very kind of the Missionary to lend them the money, and Dick and Marjorie went up to him and thanked him very politely; and then, having done this, the whole party hurried off to the train.



CHAPTER XXIV.

FIRST CLASS TO LONDON.

The railway station at the Crystal Palace was soon reached, and the Dodo went boldly up to the booking-office and demanded some tickets for London.

The Ticket-clerk, who could only see the top of the Dodo's head, very naturally mistook him for an old gentleman without his hat, and inquired, politely, "What class, Sir?"

This was a puzzler, and the Dodo went back to Dick and told him that the gentleman in the office wanted to know what class they were in.

"What does he mean?" asked Dick.

"What class you're in at school, I suppose," said the Dodo, doubtfully.

"Why, I'm in the fourth form," said Dick; "but I don't see what he wants to know that for, unless—Oh yes, of course, I see—he wants to find out how old we are, because up to twelve years of age you can travel half-price, you know. Let's see—we only want halves, Marjorie and Fidge and myself; you'll have to get a whole ticket, I suppose, though I have seen a notice at a railway station somewhere, on which it stated, 'Soldiers and Dogs half-price.' Perhaps it applies to birds, too. You had better ask, I think."

So the Dodo went back to the booking-office again and inquired, "Do birds travel half-price?"

"Birds!" exclaimed the Booking-clerk. "Nonsense! There is no charge for birds, unless you have a quantity," he added, as an afterthought. "How many have you?"

"Oh, there's only one," said the Dodo.

"Take it in the carriage with you, no charge," said the Clerk.

"Thanks! It's awfully kind of you," said the Dodo. "I'll take three half-tickets for London, then, please."

"First class?" inquired the Clerk.

"No! Fourth form, please," said the Dodo.

"You mean fourth class, I suppose," said the Clerk, laughing; "but there is no fourth class, you know. First, second, or third."

"Oh! then I'll have third; I suppose that's the best?" cried the Dodo.



"No," explained the Clerk, "first class is best."

"What a funny arrangement," said the Dodo. "I should have thought the third would have been an improvement on the first; but, however, let's have the first-class tickets, please. When does the train start?"

"There's one due in directly," said the Clerk. "Down the steps on the right."

And the Dodo, collecting his change, and grasping his tickets, marched off towards the barrier.

The Clerk, whose curiosity was aroused by the strange questions which had been addressed to him, came to the window to have a better view of his interrogator, and was just in time to catch sight of the Dodo walking off with the three children.

"Well, I never!" he exclaimed, perfectly astounded at this strange sight. "And he asked if birds traveled at half-price, too! Well, I've had some odd customers here at the Crystal Palace, but never a one like that before." And he went back to his work in a highly-bewildered frame of mind.

Meanwhile the Dodo and the children, finding no one at the barrier to obstruct them, went down to the platform, and a moment later the train came dashing into the station.

"First class in the middle of the train," shouted Dick, grasping Fidge's hand, and hurrying down the platform.

"Here! where are you going to with that bird?" shouted a voice behind them, and Dick and the Dodo turned around and walked slowly back to where the Guard, an elderly and very important-looking man, stood regarding them sternly.

"Oh, it's all right; the gentleman up-stairs said there was no charge for birds," explained the Dodo, importantly, thinking that the man was inquiring about his ticket.

"H'm! sort of a big parrot, I suppose, Sir?" said the Guard, addressing Dick, and not taking the slightest notice of the Dodo's remark.

"Parrot, indeed!" shouted the bird, indignantly. "Perhaps you haven't noticed my gloves and necktie?"

The Guard smiled indulgently. "Talks well, Sir," he said to Dick, "but you can't take that into the carriage with you, you know. Better put him in the van."



"How dare you?" said the Dodo. "You'll do nothing of the sort, I can tell you." And despite the protests of the Guard he strutted up the platform and entered a first-class carriage, followed by the children.

There was no further time for argument, as the train was even now late in starting; so the Guard blew his whistle and waved his flag, and, after an answering toot from the engine, they were off.

They had the carriage all to themselves, and a moment or two after starting Marjorie discovered that somebody had left a little illustrated Magazine on one of the seats.

They all crowded round to look at the pictures, and presently the Dodo exclaimed, excitedly—

"Hullo! Look here! Why, here's a situation that would just suit me:—'Typewriter wanted; must be quick and accurate, and of undoubted respectability. Hours, nine till six. Liberal salary to suitable person.—Apply to A. B. C., Suffolk House, Norfolk Street, Strand.' It's the very thing! With the liberal salary, I shall be able to take a house somewhere in London, and we can all live together, and have the jolliest larks. We'll keep a horse and trap, you know, and I'll buy you each a bicycle, and we'll go to the Pantomime every evening, and to Madame Tussaud's, and the Zoo, and the Tower of London, and Masklyne and Cook's, and other things every day—and—and——" he went on breathlessly.

"But do you know how to do typewriting?" asked Dick, dubiously.

"Well—er, not exactly," admitted the Dodo; "but," he added, hopefully, "I can soon learn, you know; and, besides, the advertisement fits me exactly. I'm sure I'm quick and accurate; and as for my respectability, look at my gloves! I'm sure any one would engage me directly they saw what a superior person I was."

"How much do you think the salary will be?" asked Marjorie.

"Oh, I don't know. I suppose they'll be glad to pay me anything I like to ask," replied the Dodo, "and I shall be sure to ask enough, you may be certain of that."

"But how are we to get to Norfolk Street, Strand?" persisted Marjorie. "We don't know where it is."

"Father said, that if we were ever lost, we were to jump into a cab, and ask to be driven to wherever we wanted to go," suggested Dick, practically.



"Of course," said the Dodo, "just what I intended doing." And then he rattled on about what he should do, and buy, when he got the situation, till at last the train stopped, and the Porter shouted out, "Victoria!"

They all hurried out, and, disregarding the curious glances which their unusual appearance excited, made their way to the nearest hansom, and asked to be driven to Norfolk Street.

There was some little difficulty at first, as to how they should all find room in the cab, but it was finally decided that the Dodo should sit on the top, while the three children managed to find room inside.

The Dodo, from his elevated position, had a capital view of everything of interest which they passed, and kept the cabby highly amused by his exceedingly naive remarks about them all; while, to every exclamation of surprise or derision, which met them on every side from astounded street boys, the remarkable bird had something droll and amusing to say in reply. In fact, the driver declares to this day, that he never before or since has had so extraordinary a fare.



CHAPTER XXV.

THE DODO OBLIGES WITH A SONG.

"Hold hard! Stop! Here we are!" cried the Dodo, soon after they had reached Charing Cross. "There's A. B. C."

"We haven't got to Norfolk Street yet," said the cabby.

"Never mind, there's A. B. C., and that's who I want," declared the Dodo, scrambling down from the roof. "You stay in the cab till I come back," he called out to the children, smoothing his gloves and settling his tie as he walked towards the door.

The children watched him enter, and through the glass door of the shop—for it was a shop into which he had gone—saw him engaged in a lengthy conversation with a young lady, who at first seemed afraid of him; but, some more ladies coming up, they closed around the bird, and seemed to be highly amused at something, while the Dodo grew more and more excited, waving his pinions about, and stamping his claws furiously, and finally rushing out of the shop and slamming the door too violently.

"I never heard of such impertinence," he declared, puffing and blowing in his excitement, "putting up A. B. C., when they are nothing of the sort. They wanted to tell me that they have a right to use those letters, because they are the Aerated Bread Company. What rubbish! They might as well stick up X. Y. Z. Who's to know what's meant? Aerated Bread Company, indeed! It might as well have stood for Antediluvian Bottlewashing Company. Bah! I've no patience with such nonsense." And in a highly-ruffled state of mind he scrambled back to his place on the roof, and told the cabby to drive on to Norfolk Street.

After a few minutes' ride they stopped outside a handsome building, and the Dodo once more alighted, and went up the steps to where a man in brown livery, with gilt buttons, stood by the lift.

"Are you A. B. C.?" demanded the Dodo, posing in what he evidently took to be a dignified attitude.

"N—no—second floor!" gasped the astonished attendant.

"Dear me, what a bother," said the Dodo. "Just go and tell him I'm here, will you?" he said; "I've come about the situation, you know."

"Oh!" said the man, "you'd better go up; there are several applicants already."

"Bless me!" cried the Dodo, in alarm. "I'd better hurry then."

"Will you go up in the lift—er—Sir?" asked the attendant.

"What's that?" demanded the Dodo.

"Oh, get in, and you'll see," said the man, unceremoniously, pushing the bird into the lift, and getting in after him.

He pulled the rope, and up they went, the Dodo sinking to the ground with a ridiculous sprawl as the lift ascended.

"Oh! Oh! Stop!" he screamed, shrilly.

But the lift went till the second floor was reached, when the attendant opened the door, and bundled the bird out into the passage.

"Second door on the left," he called out, and, pulling the string, was soon out of sight again.

"Good gracious!" gasped the bewildered Dodo, "I was never so bustled about before in all my life. But now for this A. B. C., whoever he is. I mustn't lose the situation if I can help it."

The second door on the left was soon found, and the Dodo knocked with his beak.

A small youth appeared, who at first seemed rather alarmed, but presently exploded into a half-stifled laugh. "My hat!" he exclaimed. "Here's a go! Why, blessed if it ain't a bird with gloves on—and a tie—oh! what a lark!"

"No," said the Dodo, with dignity, "not a lark—your education must have been sadly neglected, my good boy—I'm a Dodo, or the Dodo, in fact."

"Well, I never!" said the boy, "if it isn't talking!"

"Of course. Why not?" demanded the Dodo.

"Oh! oh! this is too good! What may your business be, Mr.—er—Dodo?"

"I've come about the situation," said the bird, smoothing his gloves consequentially.

The boy exploded into a fit of laughter. "Oh, come in!" he cried. "This is better than a circus—come in—I'll tell the Governor you're here." And the Dodo was ushered into a room where two or three gentlemen were sitting at high desks.

"Who is it, Perkins?" said one of the gentlemen.

"Some one about the situation, Sir," said Perkins, stuffing his handkerchief into his mouth to prevent himself laughing aloud.

The gentlemen all turned around and stared at the Dodo.

"Why, it's a bird!" cried one.

"Of course it is; what else did you expect I was?" said the Dodo. "Are you A. B. C.?"

"No—no," stammered the man. "I'm the Head Clerk, though, and—I——"

"I've no time to waste with Head Clerks," said the Dodo. "Just go and tell A. B. C. I'm here, will you?"

"But er——"

At this moment an inner door opened, and another gentleman stepped into the room.

"Whatever is all this noise——" he began, when he caught sight of the Dodo.



"Are you A. B. C.?" said the bird, pouncing upon him at once.

"Well—really," said the gentleman, "I——"

"Don't beat about the bush. Are you A. B. C., or are you not?" demanded the Dodo.

"Yes, I am, but——"

"Very well, then, I've come to take the situation, and I'll just draw my first week's salary at once, if you please."

"But," said the gentleman, with an amused smile, "I must see some of your work first. Perkins, bring the typewriter!"

The boy brought the instrument, and placed it on a small table.

"Now, then," said the gentleman, motioning the Dodo towards it.

"Oh! it's so long since I played," said the Dodo, smirking bashfully, "I think I have almost forgotten my notes; however, I'll try." And, throwing his head back, he shrieked out in a discordant voice—

"Do—o—o not—a—for—r—r—get m—e—e—e!" banging on the keys at the same time with both pinions.

"Here! Stop! Stop!" called out the gentleman; "you'll break it! That's not the way to do typewriting."

"No?" said the Dodo, innocently. "I thought it was a kind of piano. I was singing to you, you know."

"Oh! were you?" remarked the gentleman. "Well, don't do it again, please. I can see you won't do for us as typewriter," he added; "but perhaps I can get you a good situation at the Zoological Gardens. What do you say to that, eh?"

The Dodo, who during the first part of the speech looked very crestfallen, brightened up considerably.

"Yes, I should think that would do," he said; "I'll just go and ask the others."

"What others?" demanded the gentleman.

And the Dodo explained about Marjorie, and Dick, and Fidge, who had been waiting in the cab all this time.

The children were at once sent for, and the whole party were shown into the private room, where Marjorie and Dick related their marvelous adventures, as well as the continual interruptions of the Dodo would permit them to do.



CHAPTER XXVI.

THE DODO DEPARTS.

"It seems to me," said the gentleman, kindly, when the children had finished the story of their adventure, and had given him their names and addresses, "it seems to me that the first thing to be done is to get some suitable clothes for you."

"Oh! we never thought of that," cried Marjorie, looking down at her bare feet in dismay. "You see, there have been such a lot of strange things happening lately that we quite forgot how we all looked. Of course," she laughed, glancing at the others, "we must appear very funny indeed, dressed in this fashion."

"Ah! I fancy we can soon put that right," was the kind reply. "I have some boys and girls of my own, you know, and I think, if I send a note to my wife, she will be able to find some garments that you can wear for the time being. And the next thing is, to let your father and mother know that you are here. I expect they must be very anxious about you by this time."



"Dear me!" exclaimed Dick, looking greatly troubled, "that's another thing we never thought of, Marjorie."

"I want to see my Daddy!" announced Fidge, suddenly and decidedly.

But on being assured that he should soon do so he sat down with the others, and looked through the picture books which Perkins found for them, while the gentleman sent home for the clothes, and telegraphed to their father.

In the middle of the day some luncheon was brought in for them from a neighboring restaurant, and soon afterwards the clothes arrived.

An Eton suit for Dick, the jacket of which was just a trifle short; a pretty, simple dress for Marjorie; and a sailor suit for Fidge.

When the children had donned these, after having had a good wash, they looked as different as possible; and when, a little later on, they were led into another room with the mysterious statement, "That somebody wanted to see them," they were all eagerness to know who it possibly could be.

As soon as the door opened, however, there could be no doubt as to who it was, for with a delighted cry of "Oh, Papa! Papa!" Marjorie rushed into the arms of a gentleman standing in the middle of the room, and seemed half undecided whether to cry or to laugh, while Fidge and Dick crowded around and joined in the excitement.



The Dodo, who had come into the room at that moment, thought that he, too, ought to have a share in the welcoming, and, in grotesque imitation of Marjorie, he tried to jump up into the gentleman's arms, crying excitedly, "Oh, Papa! Papa!" just as she had done.

"Good gracious!" exclaimed the children's father, drawing back in dismay, and gazing at the clumsy bird. "What on earth is this?"

And then, when they tried to explain—all speaking at once—they made such a confusion that he was glad to put his hands to his ears, and to cry out that they must reserve the story till they reached home. And after thanking the gentleman for all his kindness, the children and their father said good-by, and went down to the carriage which was waiting at the door to drive them away.

It had been decided, despite the children's pleading, that the Dodo had better not go home with them; and so, with many promises to write and invite him soon, they took an affectionate farewell of their old friend; and the last view they had of him, as he stood at the window, meekly flourishing a limp glove, showed that he was moved to tears at having to part from them. What happened to him after the children had gone I have never been able quite to find out.

It is said that, later on in the day, a curious-looking bird was seen by the people in the Strand, clumsily flying away over the tops of the houses, clutching a roll of papers in one claw. And from away down in the country comes a weird story of two countrymen, walking across a field, being—to use their own description—"flabbergasted!" at seeing a great bird flying over their heads, screaming out a lot of aggravating personal remarks as he passed, and finally dropping, from the end of one of his pinions, a soiled white kid glove, the loss of which seemed to cause him great uneasiness; but whether—as I shrewdly suspect—this was the Dodo, or not, I have never actually discovered.

The people at Suffolk House, including Perkins, maintain a most mysterious silence on the subject, and will afford me no information whatever; and the only consolation which I can find, in my endeavors to ascertain whether these things really happened or not, is the fact that, on the island of the lake at the Crystal Palace, all the curious animals which the Ambassador is said to have turned into stone, are really there—you may see them for yourself—and I hope, when next you go to Sydenham, you will hunt them up. And if so, you will notice—what struck me as being a very conclusive proof of the truth of the narrative—that the Palaeotherium's tail really looks as if it were broken off, about four or five inches from the end; and decidedly as though he might have worn a false one while he was alive.

THE END.



* * * * * *



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Dan the Newsboy. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Dan Mordaunt and his mother live in a poor tenement, and the lad is pluckily trying to make ends meet by selling papers in the streets of New York. A little heiress of six years is confided to the care of the Mordaunts. The child is kidnapped and Dan tracks the child to the house where she is hidden, and rescues her. The wealthy aunt of the little heiress is so delighted with Dan's courage and many good qualities that she adopts him as her heir.

Tony the Hero: A Brave Boy's Adventure with a Tramp. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Tony, a sturdy bright-eyed boy of fourteen, is under the control of Rudolph Rugg, a thorough rascal. After much abuse Tony runs away and gets a job as stable boy in a country hotel. Tony is heir to a large estate. Rudolph for a consideration hunts up Tony and throws him down a deep well. Of course Tony escapes from the fate provided for him, and by a brave act, a rich friend secures his rights and Tony is prosperous. A very entertaining book.

The Errand Boy; or, How Phil Brent Won Success. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth illustrated, price $1.00.

The career of "The Errand Boy" embraces the city adventures of a smart country lad. Philip was brought up by a kind-hearted innkeeper named Brent. The death of Mrs. Brent paved the way for the hero's subsequent troubles. A retired merchant in New York secures him the situation of errand boy, and thereafter stands as his friend.

Tom Temple's Career. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Tom Temple is a bright, self-reliant lad. He leaves Plympton village to seek work in New York, whence he undertakes an important mission to California. Some of his adventures in the far west are so startling that the reader will scarcely close the book until the last page shall have been reached. The tale is written in Mr. Alger's most fascinating style.

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.

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BOOKS FOR BOYS.

Frank Fowler, the Cash Boy. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Frank Fowler, a poor boy, bravely determines to make a living for himself and his foster-sister Grace. Going to New York he obtains a situation as cash boy in a dry goods store. He renders a service to a wealthy old gentleman who takes a fancy to the lad, and thereafter helps the lad to gain success and fortune.

Tom Thatcher's Fortune. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Tom Thatcher is a brave, ambitious, unselfish boy. He supports his mother and sister on meagre wages earned as a shoe-pegger in John Simpson's factory. Tom is discharged from the factory and starts overland for California. He meets with many adventures. The story is told in a way which has made Mr. Alger's name a household word in so many homes.

The Train Boy. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Paul Palmer was a wide-awake boy of sixteen who supported his mother and sister by selling books and papers on the Chicago and Milwaukee Railroad. He detects a young man in the act of picking the pocket of a young lady. In a railway accident many passengers are killed, but Paul is fortunate enough to assist a Chicago merchant, who out of gratitude takes him into his employ. Paul succeeds with tact and judgment and is well started on the road to business prominence.

Mark Mason's Victory. The Trials and Triumphs of a Telegraph Boy. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Mark Mason, the telegraph boy, was a sturdy, honest lad, who pluckily won his way to success by his honest manly efforts under many difficulties. This story will please the very large class of boys who regard Mr. Alger as a favorite author.

A Debt of Honor. The Story of Gerald Lane's Success in the Far West. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

The story of Gerald Lane and the account of the many trials and disappointments which he passed through before he attained success, will interest all boys who have read the previous stories of this delightful author.

Ben Bruce. Scenes in the Life of a Bowery Newsboy. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Ben Bruce was a brave, manly, generous boy. The story of his efforts, and many seeming failures and disappointments, and his final success, are most interesting to all readers. The tale is written in Mr. Alger's most fascinating style.

The Castaways; or, On the Florida Reefs. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

This tale smacks of the salt sea. From the moment that the Sea Queen leaves lower New York bay till the breeze leaves her becalmed off the coast of Florida, one can almost hear the whistle of the wind through her rigging, the creak of her straining cordage as she heels to the leeward. The adventures of Ben Clark, the hero of the story and Jake the cook, cannot fail to charm the reader. As a writer for young people Mr. Otis is a prime favorite.

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.

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BOOKS FOR BOYS.

Wrecked on Spider Island; or, How Ned Rogers Found the Treasure. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Ned Rogers, a "down-east" plucky lad ships as cabin boy to earn a livelihood. Ned is marooned on Spider Island, and while there discovers a wreck submerged in the sand, and finds a considerable amount of treasure. The capture of the treasure and the incidents of the voyage serve to make as entertaining a story of sea-life as the most captious boy could desire.

The Search for the Silver City: A Tale of Adventure in Yucatan. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Two lads, Teddy Wright and Neal Emery, embark on the steam yacht Day Dream for a cruise to the tropics. The yacht is destroyed by fire, and then the boat is cast upon the coast of Yucatan. They hear of the wonderful Silver City, of the Chan Santa Cruz Indians, and with the help of a faithful Indian ally carry off a number of the golden images from the temples. Pursued with relentless vigor at last their escape is effected in an astonishing manner. The story is so full of exciting incidents that the reader is quite carried away with the novelty and realism of the narrative.

A Runaway Brig; or, An Accidental Cruise. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

This is a sea tale, and the reader can look out upon the wide shimmering sea as it flashes back the sunlight, and imagine himself afloat with Harry Vandyne, Walter Morse, Jim Libby and that old shell- back, Bob Brace, on the brig Bonita. The boys discover a mysterious document which enables them to find a buried treasure. They are stranded on an island and at last are rescued with the treasure. The boys are sure to be fascinated with this entertaining story.

The Treasure Finders: A Boy's Adventures in Nicaragua. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Roy and Dean Coloney, with their guide Tongla, leave their father's indigo plantation to visit the wonderful ruins of an ancient city. The boys eagerly explore the temples of an extinct race and discover three golden images cunningly hidden away. They escape with the greatest difficulty. Eventually they reach safety with their golden prizes. We doubt if there ever was written a more entertaining story than "The Treasure Finders."

Jack, the Hunchback. A Story of the Coast of Maine. By James Otis. Price $1.00.

This is the story of a little hunchback who lived on Cape Elizabeth, on the coast of Maine. His trials and successes are most interesting. From first to last nothing stays the interest of the narrative. It bears us along as on a stream whose current varies in direction, but never loses its force.

With Washington at Monmouth: A Story of Three Philadelphia Boys. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine edges, illustrated, price $1.50.

Three Philadelphia lads assist the American spies and make regular and frequent visits to Valley Forge in the Winter while the British occupied the city. The story abounds with pictures of Colonial life skillfully drawn, and the glimpses of Washington's soldiers which are given shown that the work has not been hastily done, or without considerable study. The story is wholesome and patriotic in tone, as are all of Mr. Otis' works.

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.

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BOOKS FOR BOYS.

With Lafayette at Yorktown: A Story of How Two Boys Joined the Continental Army. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine edges, illustrated, price $1.50.

Two lads from Portsmouth, N. H., attempt to enlist in the Colonial Army, and are given employment as spies. There is no lack of exciting incidents which the youthful reader craves, but it is healthful excitement brimming with facts which every boy should be familiar with, and while the reader is following the adventures of Ben Jaffrays and Ned Allen he is acquiring a fund of historical lore which will remain in his memory long after that which he has memorized from textbooks has been forgotten.

At the Siege of Havana. Being the Experiences of Three Boys Serving under Israel Putnam in 1762. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine edges, illustrated, price $1.50.

"At the Siege of Havana" deals with that portion of the island's history when the English king captured the capital, thanks to the assistance given by the troops from New England, led in part by Col. Israel Putnam.

The principal characters are Darius Lunt, the lad who, represented as telling the story, and his comrades, Robert Clement and Nicholas Vallet. Colonel Putnam also figures to considerable extent, necessarily, in the tale, and the whole forms one of the most readable stories founded on historical facts.

The Defense of Fort Henry. A Story of Wheeling Creek in 1777. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine edges, illustrated, price $1.50.

Nowhere in the history of our country can be found more heroic or thrilling incidents than in the story of those brave men and women who founded the settlement of Wheeling in the Colony of Virginia. The recital of what Elizabeth Zane did is in itself as heroic a story as can be imagined. The wondrous bravery displayed by Major McCulloch and his gallant comrades, the sufferings of the colonists and their sacrifice of blood and life, stir the blood of old as well as young readers.

The Capture of the Laughing Mary. A Story of Three New York Boys in 1776. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine edges, price $1.50.

"During the British occupancy of New York, at the outbreak of the Revolution, a Yankee lad hears of the plot to take General Washington's person, and calls in two companions to assist the patriot cause. They do some astonishing things, and, incidentally, lay the way for an American navy later, by the exploit which gives its name to the work. Mr. Otis' books are too well known to require any particular commendation to the young."—Evening Post.

With Warren at Bunker Hill. A Story of the Siege of Boston. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine edges, illustrated, price $1.50.

"This is a tale of the siege of Boston, which opens on the day after the doings at Lexington and Concord, with a description of home life in Boston, introduces the reader to the British camp at Charlestown, shows Gen. Warren at home, describes what a boy thought of the battle of Bunker Hill, and closes with the raising of the siege. The three heroes, George Wentworth, Ben Scarlett and an old ropemaker, incur the enmity of a young Tory, who causes them many adventures the boys will like to read."—Detroit Free Press.

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.

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BOOKS FOR BOYS.

With the Swamp Fox. The Story of General Marion's Spies. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

This story deals with General Francis Marion's heroic struggle in the Carolinas. General Marion's arrival to take command of these brave men and rough riders is pictured as a boy might have seen it, and although the story is devoted to what the lads did, the Swamp Fox is ever present in the mind of the reader.

On the Kentucky Frontier. A Story of the Fighting Pioneers of the West. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.

In the history of our country there is no more thrilling story than that of the work done on the Mississippi river by a handful of frontiersmen. Mr. Otis takes the reader on that famous expedition from the arrival of Major Clarke's force at Corn Island, until Kaskaskia was captured. He relates that part of Simon Kenton's life history which is not usually touched upon either by the historian or the story teller. This is one of the most entertaining books for young people which has been published.

Sarah Dillard's Ride. A Story of South Carolina in 1780. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

"This book deals with the Carolinas in 1780, giving a wealth of detail of the Mountain Men who struggled so valiantly against the king's troops. Major Ferguson is the prominent British officer of the story, which is told as though coming from a youth who experienced these adventures. In this way the famous ride of Sarah Dillard is brought out as an incident of the plot."—Boston Journal.

A Tory Plot. A Story of the Attempt to Kill General Washington. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

"'A Tory Plot' is the story of two lads who overhear something of the plot originated during the Revolution by Gov. Tryon to capture or murder Washington. They communicate their knowledge to Gen. Putnam and are commissioned by him to play the role of detectives in the matter. They do so, and meet with many adventures and hairbreadth escapes. The boys are, of course, mythical, but they serve to enable the author to put into very attractive shape much valuable knowledge concerning one phase of the Revolution."—Pittsburgh Times.

A Traitor's Escape. A Story of the Attempt to Seize Benedict Arnold. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

"This is a tale with stirring scenes depicted in each chapter, bringing clearly before the mind the glorious deeds of the early settlers in this country. In an historical work dealing with this country's past, no plot can hold the attention closer than this one, which describes the attempt and partial success of Benedict Arnold's escape to New York, where he remained as the guest of Sir Henry Clinton. All those who actually figured in the arrest of the traitor, as well as Gen. Washington, are included as characters."—Albany Union.

A Cruise with Paul Jones. A Story of Naval Warfare in 1776. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

"This story takes up that portion of Paul Jones' adventurous life when he was hovering off the British coast, watching for an opportunity to strike the enemy a blow. It deals more particularly with his descent upon Whitehaven, the seizure of Lady Selkirk's plate, and the famous battle with the Drake. The boy who figures in the tale is one who was taken from a derelict by Paul Jones shortly after this particular cruise was begun."—Chicago Inter-Ocean.

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.

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BOOKS FOR BOYS.

Corporal Lige's Recruit. A Story of Crown Point and Ticonderoga. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

"In 'Corporal Lige's Recruit,' Mr. Otis tells the amusing story of an old soldier, proud of his record, who had served the king in '58, and who takes the lad, Isaac Rice, as his 'personal recruit.' The lad acquits himself superbly. Col. Ethan Allen 'in the name of God and the continental congress,' infuses much martial spirit into the narrative, which will arouse the keenest interest as it proceeds. Crown Point, Ticonderoga, Benedict Arnold and numerous other famous historical names appear in this dramatic tale."—Boston Globe.

Morgan, the Jersey Spy. A Story of the Siege of Yorktown in 1781. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

"The two lads who are utilized by the author to emphasize the details of the work done during that memorable time were real boys who lived on the banks of the York river, and who aided the Jersey spy in his dangerous occupation. In the guise of fishermen the lads visit Yorktown, are suspected of being spies, and put under arrest. Morgan risks his life to save them. The final escape, the thrilling encounter with a squad of red coats, when they are exposed equally to the bullets of friends and foes, told in a masterly fashion, makes of this volume one of the most entertaining books of the year."—Inter-Ocean.

The Young Scout: The Story of a West Point Lieutenant. By Edward S. Ellis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

The crafty Apache chief Geronimo but a few years ago was the most terrible scourge of the southwest border. The author has woven, in a tale of thrilling interest, all the incidents of Geronimo's last raid. The hero is Lieutenant James Decker, a recent graduate of West Point. Ambitious to distinguish himself the young man takes many a desperate chance against the enemy and on more than one occasion narrowly escapes with his life. In our opinion Mr. Ellis is the best writer of Indian stories now before the public.

Adrift in the Wilds: The Adventures of Two Shipwrecked Boys. By Edward S. Ellis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Elwood Brandon and Howard Lawrence are en route for San Francisco. Off the coast of California the steamer takes fire. The two boys reach the shore with several of the passengers. Young Brandon becomes separated from his party and is captured by hostile Indians, but is afterwards rescued. This is a very entertaining narrative of Southern California.

A Young Hero; or, Fighting to Win. By Edward S. Ellis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

This story tells how a valuable solid silver service was stolen from the Misses Perkinpine, two very old and simple minded ladies. Fred Sheldon, the hero of this story, undertakes to discover the thieves and have them arrested. After much time spent in detective work, he succeeds in discovering the silver plate and winning the reward. The story is told in Mr. Ellis' most fascinating style. Every boy will be glad to read this delightful book.

Lost in the Rockies. A Story of Adventure in the Rocky Mountains. By Edward S. Ellis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.

Incident succeeds incident, and adventure is piled upon adventure, and at the end the reader, be he boy or man, will have experienced breathless enjoyment in this romantic story describing many adventures in the Rockies and among the Indians.

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publisher, A. L. BURT, 53-58 Duane Street, New York.

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BOOKS FOR BOYS.

A Jaunt Through Java: The Story of a Journey to the Sacred Mountain. By Edward S. Ellis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

The interest of this story is found in the thrilling adventures of two cousins, Hermon and Eustace Hadley, on their trip across the island of Java, from Samarang to the Sacred Mountain. In a land where the Royal Bengal tiger, the rhinoceros, and other fierce beasts are to be met with, it is but natural that the heroes of this book should have a lively experience. There is not a dull page in the book.

The Boy Patriot. A Story of Jack, the Young Friend of Washington. By Edward S. Ellis. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, illustrated, price $1.50.

"There are adventures of all kinds for the hero and his friends, whose pluck and ingenuity in extricating themselves from awkward fixes are always equal to the occasion. It is an excellent story full of honest, manly, patriotic efforts on the part of the hero. A very vivid description of the battle of Trenton is also found in this story." —Journal of Education.

A Yankee Lad's Pluck. How Bert Larkin Saved his Father's Ranch in Porto Rico. By Wm. P. Chipman. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

"Bert Larkin, the hero of the story, early excites our admiration, and is altogether a fine character such as boys will delight in, whilst the story of his numerous adventures is very graphically told. This will, we think, prove one of the most popular boys' books this season."—Gazette.

A Brave Defense. A Story of the Massacre at Fort Griswold in 1781. By William P. Chipman. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Perhaps no more gallant fight against fearful odds took place during the Revolutionary War than that at Fort Griswold, Groton Heights, Conn., in 1781. The boys are real boys who were actually on the muster rolls, either at Fort Trumbull on the New London side, or of Fort Griswold on the Groton side of the Thames. The youthful reader who follows Halsey Sanford and Levi Dart and Tom Malleson, and their equally brave comrades, through their thrilling adventures will be learning something more than historical facts; they will be imbibing lessons of fidelity, of bravery, of heroism, and of manliness, which must prove serviceable in the arena of life.

The Young Minuteman. A Story of the Capture of General Prescott in 1777. By William P. Chipman. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

This story is based upon actual events which occurred during the British occupation of the waters of Narragansett Bay. Darius Wale and William Northrop belong to "the coast patrol." The story is a strong one, dealing only with actual events. There is, however, no lack of thrilling adventure, and every lad who is fortunate enough to obtain the book will find not only that his historical knowledge is increased, but that his own patriotism and love of country are deepened.

For the Temple: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by S. J. Solomon. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.

"Mr. Henty's graphic prose picture of the hopeless Jewish resistance to Roman sway adds another leaf to his record of the famous wars of the world. The book is one of Mr. Henty's cleverest efforts."— Graphic.

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.

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BOOKS FOR BOYS.

Roy Gilbert's Search: A Tale of the Great Lakes. By Wm. P. Chipman. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

A deep mystery hangs over the parentage of Roy Gilbert. He arranges with two schoolmates to make a tour of the Great Lakes on a steam launch. The three boys visit many points of interest on the lakes. Afterwards the lads rescue an elderly gentleman and a lady from a sinking yacht. Later on the boys narrowly escape with their lives. The hero is a manly, self-reliant boy, whose adventures will be followed with interest.

The Slate Picker: The Story of a Boy's Life in the Coal Mines. By Harry Prentice. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

This is a story of a boy's life in the coal mines of Pennsylvania. Ben Burton, the hero, had a hard road to travel, but by grit and energy he advanced step by step until he found himself called upon to fill the position of chief engineer of the Kohinoor Coal Company. This is a book of extreme interest to every boy reader.

The Boy Cruisers; or, Paddling in Florida. By St. George Rathborne. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Andrew George and Rowland Carter start on a canoe trip along the Gulf coast, from Key West to Tampa, Florida. Their first adventure is with a pair of rascals who steal their boats. Next they run into a gale in the Gulf. After that they have a lively time with alligators and Andrew gets into trouble with a band of Seminole Indians. Mr. Rathborne knows just how to interest the boys, and lads who are in search of a rare treat will do well to read this entertaining story.

Captured by Zulus: A Story of Trapping in Africa. By Harry Prentice. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

This story details the adventures of two lads, Dick Elsworth and Bob Harvey, in the wilds of South Africa. By stratagem the Zulus capture Dick and Bob and take them to their principal kraal or village. The lads escape death by digging their way out of the prison hut by night. They are pursued, but the Zulus finally give up pursuit. Mr. Prentice tells exactly how wild-beast collectors secure specimens on their native stamping grounds, and these descriptions make very entertaining reading.

Tom the Ready; or, Up from the Lowest. By Randolph Hill. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

This is a dramatic narrative of the unaided rise of a fearless, ambitious boy from the lowest round of fortune's ladder to wealth and the governorship of his native State. Tom Seacomb begins life with a purpose, and eventually overcomes those who oppose him. How he manages to win the battle is told by Mr. Hill in a masterful way that thrills the reader and holds his attention and sympathy to the end.

Captain Kidd's Gold: The True Story of an Adventurous Sailor Boy. By James Franklin Fitts. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

There is something fascinating to the average youth in the very idea of buried treasure. A vision arises before his eyes of swarthy Portuguese and Spanish rascals, with black beards and gleaming eyes. There were many famous sea rovers, but none more celebrated than Capt. Kidd. Paul Jones Garry inherits a document which locates a considerable treasure buried by two of Kidd's crew. The hero of this book is an ambitious, persevering lad, of salt-water New England ancestry, and his efforts to reach the island and secure the money form one of the most absorbing tales for our youth that has come from the press.

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.

THE END