by trap or pit the wild animals on the hills, and tame them. Hares are the most common creatures caught, and in a little box of pine wood, with an open front of bamboo cane, the little pet finds a home. It soon learns to run about the house, and stand on its hind-legs to nibble bits of radish or lumps of boiled rice from the children's hands.

Sometimes the farmers find bigger game in their snares, such as badgers and foxes. If the badger is young, or if the boys can find an old mother badger's nest, the little cubs can be easily tamed. If kindly treated, kept from dogs, and not provoked, they are quite harmless.

But the big badgers are very snappish, and their bites are dangerous. In the picture we see the old lady of the farm-house, quite scared at the big badger which one of her sons has caught and hung up by the legs. See her girdle tied in front, as is the fashion with old ladies in Japan. "Naru hodo! what a nasty beast!" she is saying. By-and-by the boys will kill the brute with arrows, and sell the skin to the drum-maker and the hair to the brush-maker, and the dogs will have a fine feast.

What is that little board at the top, with a rope on either side?

That is the farmer's device to keep the birds away from his rice just planted. The string makes the crows afraid, and the short bits of bamboo clatter against the board, and scare off the little birds. The old badger is tied up by the legs on one of these posts in the field.

[Begun in No. 46 of Harper's Young People, September 14.]

WHO WAS PAUL GRAYSON?

BY JOHN HABBERTON,

Author of "Helen's Babies."

Chapter IX.

BENNY'S PARTY.

Mr. Morton's school closed on the last day of June, and the parents of the pupils were so well pleased with the progress their sons had made that they almost all thanked the teacher, besides paying him, and they hoped that he would open it again in the autumn. Mr. Morton thanked the gentlemen in return, and said he would think about it; he was not certain that he could afford to begin a new term unless more pupils were promised, although he did not believe the entire county could supply better boys than those he had already taught at Laketon.

The boys, when they heard this, determined that they would not be outdone in the way of compliment, so they resolved, at a full meeting held in Sam Wardwell's' father's barn, that Mr. Morton was a brick, and the class would prove it by giving him as handsome a gold watch chain as could be bought by a contribution of fifty cents from each of the twenty-three boys. Every boy paid in his fifty cents, although some of them had to part with special treasures in order to get the money: Benny Mallow sacrificed his whole collection of birds' eggs, which included forty-seven varieties, after having first vainly endeavored to raise the money upon two mole-skins, his swimming tights, and a very large lion that he had spent nearly a day in cutting from a menagerie poster. The chain, suitably inscribed, was formally presented in a neat speech by Joe Appleby; Paul Grayson absolutely refused to do it, insisting that Joe was the real head of the school; indeed, Paul himself asked Joe to make the speech, and from that time forth Joe himself pronounced Paul a royal good fellow, and even introduced him to all girls of his acquaintance who wore long dresses.

For at least a month after school closed the boys were as busy at one sort of play and another as if they had a great deal of lost time to make up. Getting ready for the Fourth of July consumed nearly a week, and getting over the accidents of the day took a week more. Some of the boys went fishing every day; others tried boating; two or three made long pedestrian tours—or started on them—and a few went with Mr. Morton and Paul on short mineralogical and botanical excursions.

Then, just as mere sport began to be wearisome, August came in, and the larger fruits of all sorts began to ripen. Fruit was so plenty in and about Laketon that no one attached special value to it; a respectable boy needed only to ask in order to get all he could eat, so boys were invited to each other's gardens to try early apples or plums or pears, and as no boy was exactly sure which particular fruit or variety he most liked, the visits were about as numerous as the varieties. Later in the month the peaches ripened; and as the boy who could not eat a hatful at a sitting was not considered very much of a fellow, several hours of every clear day were consumed by attention to peach-trees.

Besides all these delightful duties a great deal of talking had to be done about the coming cold season. Boys who had spent unsatisfactory autumns and winters in other years began in time to trade for such skates, or sleds, or game bags, or other necessities as they might be without, and the result was that some other boys who traded found themselves in a very bad way when cold weather came. Between all the occupations named, time flew so fast that September and the beginning of another school term were very near at hand before any boy had half finished all that he had meant to do during vacation.

There were still some pleasant things to look forward to, though: court would sit in the first week of September, and then the counterfeiter would be tried, while on the very first day of September would come Benny Mallow's birthday party—an affair that every year was looked forward to with pleasure, for Benny's mother, although far from rich, was very proud of her children, and always made their little companies as pleasant as any ever given in Laketon for young people. When Benny's birthday anniversary arrived every respectable boy who knew him was sure to be invited, even if he had shamefully cheated Benny in a trade a week before, and Benny generally was cheated when he traded at all, for whatever thing he wanted seemed so immense beside what he had to offer for it, that year by year he seemed to own less and less.

At last the night of the party came, and even Joe Appleby, whose own birthday parties were quite choice affairs, was manly enough to declare that it was the finest thing of the year. The house was tastefully dressed with flowers, which always grew to perfection in Mrs. Mallow's garden, and the lady of the house knew just how to use them to the best advantage. Benny and his sister received the guests; and although Benny was barely twelve years old that day, and rather small for his age, he appeared quite graceful and manly in his new Sunday suit, which had not, like the new suits of most of the Laketon boys, been cut with a view to his growing within the year. His sister Bessie was only a month or two beyond her tenth birthday, but in white muslin and blue ribbons, with her flaxen hair in a long heavy braid on her back, and her bright blue eyes and delicate pink cheeks, she was pretty enough to distract attention from some girls who wore longer dresses, and, indeed, from several girls in very long dresses, who had been invited out of respect for the tastes of Joe Appleby, Will Palmer, and Paul Grayson.

Mrs. Mallow was as successful at entertaining young people as she was in dressing her children and ornamenting her little cottage. She had prepared charades, and given Bessie a lot of new riddles to propose, and she herself played on her rather old piano some airs that the boys enjoyed far more than they did the "exercises" that their sisters were continually drumming. Several of the boys were rather disappointed at there being no kissing games, but they compromised on "choosing partners"; and as there were some guessing tricks, in which the boys who missed had each to select a girl, and retire to the hall with her until a new "guess" was agreed upon, it is quite probable that most of the boys enjoyed