His natal burr was always in evidence when he was sentimentally affected. I want to give myself to you. Perhaps, she may tell me whose picture this is. " "I'm no reader of riddles," said Jonathan. I consented. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge. Lucy was filled with happiness, it was her third Christmas at the Becks. Once more he begged; but as Ruth only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the jungle. It may be treacherous, it may lay up a store of future woe; but it insures present happiness, and that is sufficient. Whenever you grow impatient with her, remember the folly of her father. "Ah! I see.
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