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Dover Castle.

OVER is an important town in the county of Kent, seventy-two miles from London. It is on the South Coast, in a narrow valley between two high ranges of chalk hills, which are broken through, and form lofty precipices in front of the sea on

each side of the town.

On the South side is the Shakspere Cliff, about four hundred feet high, and on the North side, near the town, is Dover Castle, with its irregular lines of fortifications on the brow of the cliff, and its numerous galleries excavated far below in the chalk rock.

Dover is the chief steam packet station for the opposite ports of France, and its prosperity depends greatly on the trade and intercourse between England and the Continent T. B. of Europe.

Just for Fun.

T was rather a favourite excuse with Willie Goodwin, whenever he was deep in mischief, or had to plead guilty when accused of some boyish scrape, that it was done just for fun.

Many a time he resolved to try to be more orderly and let boyish pranks alone, but the next prospect of fun would banish

all his good resolutions, until the penalty

recalled them again. He was nearly fifteen when the tragedy I am about to tell you sobered him for life. He was

a middle-aged man when he told me the story, but even then he could not speak without emotion of his last piece of "fun."

"We had been out for a walk,” he told me, “Frankie Ford, Tom Lee, and I, and were coming home at twilight, when we met Sammy Willetts, who was rather a favourite butt for teasing with all the boys. He was a very timid, rather sickly boy, of about fourteen, peevish and easily irritated, and the rougher, stronger boys said, a coward. As soon as we saw him coming, the spirit of mischief seemed to possess us all, and each one planned how to tease the poor, timid boy.

"Let's hide and jump at him,' one suggested.

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Let's tell him his house is on fire, and see him run,' cried another.

"I'll tell you what we'll do,' I said. 'We'll coax him down to Rutland's barn for a game of romps, and shut him up!'

"Rutland's barn was a large barn standing alone, at some distance from any other building. The farm-house to which it had belonged had been destroyed by fire, and the great barn had been left standing when Rutland deserted the place and went West. It was a favourite play-room for all the village boys, who spent long Saturday afternoons in it, making it a gymnasium and recitation-hall, as occasion required.

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Although it was twilight, the summer evenings were long, and Sammy was not surprised to be told we were going to Rutland's barn for an hour of play before bedtime. He was quite willing to join us, and we were soon in the old barn, making it ring with our shouts and laugh

ter.

"The hour passed rapidly, and it was getting quite dark, when we sent Sammy into the hay-loft on some errand, ran out ourselves, and drew the big doors after us.

It was

harder work to fasten them with the rusty iron latch, but we accomplished this, too, and then ran off.

"Just as we were at the edge of the field, we heard one fearful scream, but we only hurried on, laughing at the thought of Sammy's discomfiture.

"I must say, in our defence, that passing one night in the old barn would have been no great misfortune to any of us. We were all hardy, country boys, full of life and health, free from superstition or morbid fears, and we could none of us realise what the dark loneliness was to a timid, sickly boy with rather a weak mind.

"It must have been after midnight when we were roused at home by a violent knocking at the door. My father spoke from the window, asking what was wanted, and I heard our neighbour, Mr. Willetts, asking anxiously,—"Is Sammy here?'

"No. Is he not at home?'

"He has not been home since sunset. I am very much worried, because he is not well.'

"I'll ask Willie if he has seen him.'

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In another moment father was by my bed, and I told him where they would find Sammy. Never shall I forget the father's cry of horror:

"It will kill him! My poor, timid boy. He is afraid of the dark, and the doctor has told us we must humour him, because he is not strong enough to bear fright. Will you come with me, Mr. Goodwin?'

"I was dressing as rapidly as I could, and was by my father's side when he lighted a lantern and joined Mr. Willets.

"Let me go!' I begged. 'I never meant to hurt him. I wouldn't mind staying there all night a bit, and I did not think it would really hurt him. Oh! sir, do you think it will kill him? It was all a joke, just for fun.'

"God forgive you, boy,' he answered me, in a choked voice. I am afraid it will be dear fun for us all. Sammy, |

my poor boy! Who will tell his mother if harm has come to him? Our only one-our poor, sickly boy!'

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So he lamented as we hurried across the fields, every word increasing my terror and remorse. It was my proposal, and I felt myself the only guilty one, though the others had helped me to carry out the cruel joke that seemed anything but fun now. We reached the barn at last, and undid the heavy fastenings of the door. Mr. Willets called his boy by name every moment, but no answer came. seemed to me hours before the heavy doors swung back. One of them would not open wide, and looking for the cause, we found poor Sammy, white and senseless, lying on the floor behind it. His father lifted him.

"He is not dead!' he said. Can we get water?'

It

"I hurried to the well and brought water, but the boy was too far gone for that. Oh! the long distance it seemed to Mr. Willetts', and beyond that to the doctor's, where I ran at once. Never shall I forget the face of Sammy's mother as she took the boy's face in her hands, and looked into it. It was so white and still, I dared scarcely believe he really lived as I hurried to the doctor's. He did live, recovering his health after a long, dangerous illness; but his mind was gone for ever. Some fright in those lonely hours of darkness gave a shock to the weak mind that was never cured, and he lived only to be an idiot.

It is some years now since we laid him in his quiet grave, the victim of a boyish prank. I tell you it was the last piece of mischief I ever did 'just for fun.'"- Selected.

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The Heart's Door.

'LL not forgive Fred as long as I live," said Dora, angrily, as she came into the parlour, holding up before her mother the fragments of a beautiful little sofa, a piece of the set of furniture her Uncle James had given her a few days before.

"Dora, my daughter!"

"Well, I mean just what I say," continued the excited little girl. "Fred came rushing into the summer-house just as he always does, and trod on it with his great boots; and when I spoke to him about it, he said he didn't care a bit, and wished he had broken the chairs too."

"Think before you say more, my dear. Perhaps you vexed Frederick by your manner of speaking."

"I only told him he was careless and ugly, and so he was. It's too bad." And as she turned over the pieces of the ruined toy in her hands, her face grew dark with angry

feelings.

"Hark, Dora! Listen; some one is knocking, I'm

sure.

Little Willie, a three-year old younger brother, stopped playing with his blocks on the floor, and looked at the door as if expecting a visitor.

"What do you mean, mamma? I don't hear anything,"

said Dora.

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Have you forgotten, my daughter, that there is a door to your heart? You have opened it once this morning, and let in an evil, hateful thing. No picture that could be made of it would be too dark to represent what is now in your heart."