more; I will never do it, never, never."

He looked round to ascertain that no one was looking at him. What was his vexation to discover the man with the sand-eels eyeing him, a repulsive grin covering his whole face, and a small black pipe stuck between his teeth.

This sight, instead of discouraging Frank, made him assume an air of bravado. He took his shirt, wrung out the water, shook it and proceeded to put it on. How cold it was; how it stuck to his little body. It only made him shiver the more. He put his stocking on the left foot; then he put on his trousers, and lastly, his boot. This boot he put on the right foot so that his feet were both hidden from view. Then with a heavy and repentant heart—what person is not repentant when he sees himself in some nasty scrape caused by his own sinfulness?—he directed his irregular steps towards his home. A curious sight to gaze upon was this little fellow as he wearily plodded on his way.

He had not advanced twenty yards when he took off his boot and put it on the other foot. He could not endure the pain that it caused him. He had not been accustomed to go without stockings, he had never tried the experiment before, and he wondered why his feet were so tender. He rose and began to walk once more. It was an unequal walk, like that of a person with a short leg. He stopped again. Some gravel had found its way into his boot, and the torture which it caused him was unendurable. He carefully withdrew all the pain-inflicting pebbles, brushed off the gravel that adhered to his stocking, and resumed his laborious task of walking. When he came into the road, the people which he met laughed at him. "Ah; what nasty people there are in these places," he thought. He fancied he was being punished. He had hoped to have had a lot of fun. He would have returned home, invented some pretext for having been longer than usual; and now, what a wretched plight he was in. Why was he not punished in another way? this was too severe, he had never sinned at that amount, he was receiving extra payment.

Thus soliloquized our little man when he arrived near a farm-house called "Les Pins." He heard a pig squeak, and hastened along as fast as his naked and now sore foot would allow him.

There, in the farmyard, was a sight which he had never before witnessed. One man, a butcher, was pulling on a rope which was tied around a porker's snout. Three other men were forcibly pushing the animal along. They made but little progress however, for master piggy placed his feet so firmly on the ground that it required all the efforts of the four men to make him move.

At last he was with difficulty brought near the scaffold; the altar upon which he was to be sacrificed to supply the voracious appetites of man.

He was forcibly lifted upon the wooden bench and firmly held down. Then the butcher twisted the piece of rope around his hand and the pig's snout, and unsheathing a sharp knife, he plunged it in the animal's throat. The porker's life-blood gushed out in a red stream. Frank fairly danced with joy. He forgot all his troubles while witnessing those of the pig. The latter tried to shake himself free. He filled the air with protestations against the treatment to which he was being subjected, he invoked his gods, but all in vain. Firmly held down by the four men he soon ceased to struggle and lay quite still.

"It does not seem to me," Frank heard one of the men remark, "that he has given a very violent shake before dying, as porkers generally do." "Oh, he is dead enough," said the butcher, "fetch the water and let us make haste." The men obeyed the order which was given rather peremptorily and the half drunk butcher followed them, so did a lad of fourteen years (the heir to the estate), who, according to a Guernsey custom, had been holding the pig's tail.

Frank was just considering whether he would go nearer to the animal when the latter gave a jump. In a moment piggy got down and galloped in an awkward fashion straight in the direction of Frank, who uttered a cry of terror and ran away as fast as his legs would carry him. He forgot all about his exposed foot, and received a few nasty bruises and cuts against the sharp stones that were placed in the road for macadamizing purposes.

He cast an anxious glance behind him to see if the porker was following him, for he had now no other idea but that the pig was being sent to complete the punishment which he thought had been dealt out to him for his disobedience. But the porker was not to be seen. He had fallen dead after having run a few yards. When Frank came higher up the road, he proceeded to examine his foot. It hurt him considerably. He tied his handkerchief around it and resumed his walk. Seeing a great gap in the hedge he looked through it and saw that the men were plunging the porker in a great tub full of steaming water. Then followed a scraping with ormer shells, and, in a few minutes, the black pig was divested of his hairy coat. His skin was white and smooth, like those which Frank had seen at the meat market.

Not caring to see more, and feeling very cold, he resumed his journey homewards. He was so excited with what he had witnessed, that he did not think so much about his wretched condition as he would otherwise have done, and when he arrived in front of his father's house, at the Rohais, he was almost cheerful.

But he suddenly stopped short. "If I go inside with this countenance on, mamma will punish me severely," he thought.

He therefore called to his aid all the hypocrisy which his years were able to muster, and assumed a most miserable expression. But this was not enough to satisfy Frank's idea of the exigencies of the present situation. He doubled his fists, rubbed his eyes vigorously, and uttered a very plaintive and doleful cry.

Thus prepared, he entered the house by the back door, keeping a sharp look out through the corner of his eyes for his mother. She was not in the kitchen; he opened the door of the parlour; his eyes reddened and moistened by the friction to which they were being subjected, while his cries were heart-rending. Mrs. Mathers was not in the parlour. He stopped his sham crying, sat himself on a chair and listened eagerly for the sound of approaching footsteps; ready to recommence his little game as soon as his mother entered the house.

No sound of approaching footsteps were however heard. Frank Mathers was now quite chilled, although the weather was very warm. His excitement had abated and he was feeling down-hearted. There was no fire in the room. Frank fetched a large coat (his father's) and wrapped it around him. He was busily engaged in this operation when his mother suddenly appeared upon the scene.

She wore slippers, which accounted for his not having heard her footsteps.

"Well?" she said, wondering what her son was about, "what are you wrapping yourself up for?"

Frank was taken by surprise. He looked up with a very confused air. His mother misinterpreted his look. "Don't be silly, child," she said, "have you carried that letter to Mr. Gavet."

"Yes, mamma," mumbled the little fellow, "but——" and he unbuttoned his coat and exhibited his dilapidated state before the eyes of his astonished mother. "What have you been doing?" she questioned anxiously. "My clothes were caught by the sea," he sobbed, and genuine tears flowed down his cheeks.

Then he confessed everything to his mother; how he had been tempted to enjoy himself despite her orders; how he had watched a man who was catching sand-eels; and, finally, how his clothes had been washed away by the rising tide.

When he had finished speaking, he raised his eyes to see what kind of look his mother wore. Perceiving a cloud of sadness hanging