Fusticus soon came to repent his first wish. "Oh! that I had not been so foolish!" cried Fusticus, and as soon as he got out of the village, he dismounted from his cock, and again called upon the Spirit of Darkness.

"And so you already want something more? You mortals are never contented," said the latter. "Everybody laughs at my steed," answered Fusticus; "I cannot ride through the streets without looking absurd! Give me a golden carriage, drawn by four real horses this time, with as many servants as attend a duke;" and the next moment up drove the most magnificent carriage he had ever beheld, with four prancing white horses, and a footman and two postilions. Behind it rode two lords, to guard it. "Now I shall indeed be happy! Now my friends can no longer laugh!" thought Fusticus, and the very next day he took his first drive.

When his friends saw that Fusticus had come into such luck, and had such a grand carriage of his own, they all thought "Dear me! some rich relation of Fusticus must have died, and left him all this. I hope he did not see me laugh when he passed me yesterday on that curious cock of his!" But Fusticus was too pleased to be unfriendly with anybody, when he saw what marked attention his grand equipage brought him. He sat smiling inside his carriage and had a kind word for all, even for the poor old woman he saw the rough villagers jeering at and abusing. He even called to them to stop breaking the pitchers and pots that she was trying to sell in the market-place, the only grudge that they had against her being that she had a rather more hooked nose than their own!

Fusticus now lived for some time quite happy. Everybody thought a great deal of him, because of his fine carriage, in which he used to take daily drives. All the young unmarried ladies of the village tormented him that he was still a bachelor, saying that his carriage must have been made for two, as there were two seats in it. And this seemed such a forcible argument to Fusticus, that he soon took one of the ladies as a wife. In course of time a little baby was born to them. Scarcely was the child a week old, when one morning, just as Fusticus was nursing his little pet, in through the window sprang the Spirit of Darkness! Drawing the written compact from his pocket, he said, "In accordance with this, give me up your child, your first-born! But you have one wish still left. What may it be?" Fusticus was struck dumb; he could not recover himself for a long time, for in his happiness he had quite forgotten his promise, quite forgotten his third wish, and all about the Spirit of Darkness!

"I cannot yield my child, my young and innocent darling!" he cried. "Anything else you may take—my life, my carriage, anything, but leave me my child!"

"The child! the child! and nothing else!" shrieked the demon, and then, regaining himself, with a smile added: "And your last wish?"

"If I lose my boy," answered Fusticus, "my joy on this earth is for ever gone. If you take my child, then, oh Spirit of Darkness and Deceit! then, may I for all eternity pass my life in the Moon!" "Granted too is your third——" "But I have not finished yet," broke in Fusticus, "and may my child for ever remain with me there!"

And there you may see them both to this day, but the child was changed into a spider. And every now and then the good little spider lets himself down by his thread to the earth and takes his father back all the news of the day.

But if you, Reader, had three wishes granted to you, I hope you would choose them better and more wisely than did old Fusticus!

Cat and Dog Stories.

TIM.

CAT AND DOG STORIES.

Well, it was a rainy day, raining so hard that I could not go out on the lawn to play; and I was tired of amusing myself with my soft ball indoors. I was sitting with my head resting between my hands, trying to think of some new game, when suddenly the door swung open, and in walked a crooked old woman, trudging towards me on her crooked staff.

"Why are you so unhappy, my dear?" she asked me in a kind, though croaking, voice.

"I don't know how to pass the time, ma'am," I said, rather frightened.

"Little girls, aye, and big girls too, should always have something to do; they should never idle away their hours. I am your fairy godmother, Nelly; look at my face."

And I looked up at her. Sure enough, she did look like my godmother, only a little more ugly and a good deal more kind!

"As you have been a good girl this morning, and finished your knitting and sewing, I am going to give you something that will amuse you. I am going to gift you with the knowledge of animal language. Look at your cat and dog on the hearth! They are telling each other stories. Would you like to listen to what they are saying?"

"Oh, that I should!" I exclaimed.

She touched me on the lips with her crooked staff, and suddenly I heard two little voices gossiping round the fire. I glanced round at my fairy godmother, but she had vanished. I had not time to think how wonderful it all was—I was too much taken up with what I heard. There sat my precious Miss Perkie, with King Charlie at her side, so interested that his little pink tongue had pushed its way out through his teeth.

KING CHARLIE.

I drew my chair nearer to the hearth, so that I might hear their conversation the better. But Charlie turned round upon me rather angrily, and said:

"If you want to listen, Nelly, don't make such a noise with your stool. It disturbs me, and it is really provoking to lose the thread of an adventure in that way. Pray begin the story again, Perkie."

He always was rather a sharp-tempered dog, so I did not answer him. Yet the rude way in which he addressed me struck me as rather funny. I remember thinking that, perhaps, if all the world spoke dog-language, dogs would be the masters, and we human beings the slaves.

Perkie then continued:

"As I was