the Pen, "let us begin. What shall I draw first?"

"I don't know," Jimmieboy replied. "Why not make a—er—a zebra.'"

"What's a zebra?" asked the Pen, who had never been to the circus, as Jimmieboy had, and who was therefore, of course, ignorant about some things of very great importance. "Is it a piece of furniture?"

"The idea!" laughed Jimmieboy. "Of course not. It's a sort of a small animal like a horse, and has—"

"Oh, I know," interrupted the Pen. "Here's one." Then he dipped his head lightly into the water, and wiggled himself about on the pad for a minute. "There," he said, "How's that for a zebra?"

ZEBRA.

Jimmieboy laughed long and loud. "What on earth are those wiggle-waggles all over him?" he asked.

"Those are the Zees," explained the Quill. "Isn't that right?"

"No!" roared Jimmieboy. "He hasn't a Z to his name."

"Oh yes, he has," replied the Quill. "I know that much, anyhow. I have written many a zebra, though I never drew one before. They always begin with a Z, and end with a bray—like a donkey."

"I don't mean it that way. I mean he hasn't any Zees printed on him," explained Jimmieboy. "He's striped like the American flag."

"Why didn't you say so in the beginning?" said the Quill.

"I was going to, but you interrupted me, and said you knew all about it, and I supposed you did," said the boy.

"Well, let's try it again. He's a horse that looks like the American flag, you say?"

"Yes," said Jimmieboy—a little dubiously, however. He thought perhaps the zebra more closely resembled a piece of toast, but as he had mentioned the flag, he thought it would be better to stick to it.

"How is this!" asked the Quill, presenting the following picture to Jimmieboy. "Is that any more like a zebra?"

ZEBRA.

"It's the most ridiculous thing I ever saw," said Jimmieboy. "I didn't say he had stars on him."

"I know you didn't," retorted the Pen. "But that square might pass for a chest-protector, if any body ever criticised it."

"Well, it isn't anything like a Zebra," said Jimmieboy, firmly. "You'd better try making an elephant."

"That's easy," returned the Quill. "I never saw an elephant, but I've heard what they look like. Sort, of like pigs, with two tails, big flop ears, and paper-cutters for teeth, and great big huge large legs that look like bolsters. Oh, I can draw an elephant with my eyes shut."

L-EPHANT.

This the Pen proceeded to do at once, and here is his idea of the L-ephant.

"That's more like an elephant than either of the two zebras was like a zebra," said Jimmieboy, with a grin.

"Thank you," said the Pen, simply. "Which part have I done best, the L or the 'ephant?"

"Well, it's hard to say," smiled Jimmieboy. "I think the hair on his forehead is very much like that of the elephants I have seen, and then you've got his eye just right. I've seen elephants look exactly like that when they have caught sight of a peanut."

THE SWARM OF BEES.

"How is this for a swarm of bees?" asked the Quill, gratified at his success, and dashing off this little artistic gem in an instant.

"Ho!" ejaculated Jimmieboy. "What kind of bees are those? They aren't the honey kind that sting."

"No, they are bees you can spell with, and don't sting," returned the Pen. "I like 'em better than the other kind."

"Can you draw ostriches?" asked Jimmieboy.

THE OSTRICH.

"I can try one," said the Pen. "How will this do?" he added, producing the following. "The horse part is all right, but I'm afraid the strich isn't so good," said the artist, as Jimmieboy threw himself on the floor in a paroxysm of laughter. "I never saw a strich, so why should I make a good one? I think it's real mean of you to laugh."

"Well, really, Penny," said Jimmieboy, "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but that's the worst-looking animal I ever saw. But never mind; it's a better-looking creature than most monkeys."

"I never saw a monkey," said the Pen. "How many legs has it?"

"Two legs, two arms, a tail, and a head," Jimmieboy answered.

THE MON-KEY.

"Something like this?" queried the Quill, dashing off a picture complacently—he felt so sure that this time he was right.

"Very much like that," Jimmieboy replied, smothering his mirth for fear of offending the Quill, though if you will refer to the drawing you will see that the Quill was quite as inaccurate in his picture of the monkey as he was with his zebras.

"I thought I'd get you to admit that that was a good monkey," observed the Quill, regarding his work with pride. "I've seen a good many keys, and, of course, when you said the creature had two legs, two arms, a tail, and a head, I knew that he was nothing but a key to whom had been given those precious gifts of nature. To draw a key is easy, and to provide it with the other features was not hard."

Jimmieboy was silent. He was too full of laughter even to open his mouth, and so he kept it tightly closed.

"What'll I draw next?" asked the Quill, after a minute or two of silence.

"Can you do mountains?" queried Jimmieboy.

"What are they?" asked the Quill.

"They're great big rocks that go up in the air and have trees on 'em," explained Jimmieboy.

The Quill looked puzzled, and then he glanced reproachfully at Jimmieboy.

"I think you are making fun of me," he said, solemnly.

"No, I'm not," said Jimmieboy. "Why should you think such a thing as that?"

"Well, I know some things, and what I know makes me believe what I think. I think you are making fun of me when you talk of big rocks going up in the air with trees on 'em. Rocks are too heavy to go up in the air even when they haven't trees on 'em, and I don't think it's very nice of you to try to fool me the way you have."

"I don't mean like a balloon," Jimmieboy hastened to explain. "It's a big rock that sits on the ground and reaches up into the air and has trees on it."

"I don't believe there ever was such a thing," returned the offended Quill. "Here's what one would look like if it could ever be," he added, sketching the following:

MOUNTAIN.

"What on earth!" ejaculated Jimmieboy.

"What? Why, a mountain—that's what!" retorted the Quill. "Don't you see, my dear boy, you've just proved you were trying to fool me. I've put down the thing you said a mountain was, and you as much as say yourself that it can't be."

"But—how do you make it out? That's what I can't see," remonstrated Jimmieboy.

"It's perfectly simple,"