AUNT MARY'S

PRESENT.

and handed to him her prize. They were both very soon intent upon examining its numerous pictures and stories and poetry, as you see them in the engraving.

E.

ATILDA SIMPSON was a dear little girl when she lived in England, and such she is now I have no doubt. In the early part of last year she went with her parents to Australia.

Mrs. Simpson, her mother, was in delicate health, and the physician having recommended a long sea-voyage, her husband decided to take her with his daughter for two or three years at least, and perhaps to remain there altogether.

Their voyage was a very pleasant one on the whole, and Matilda enjoyed herself amazingly, everything being so new to her; and then her dear mother, after a few weeks had passed, grew stronger every day.

There were several things, however, she could not get on shipboard, and among them her favourite little magazine. At home she had it each month regularly. She did sigh after that, I can tell you.

In March last a small parcel arrived in the Colony, per post, addressed to "Matilda Simpson." With eagerness she opened it, and then, to her great delight, she saw the beautiful volume of the Child's Own Magazine for 1882, and written inside, "From Aunt Mary to her dear niece Matilda."

She ran to her father, who was in his little study-mother was not at home

THAT FOX:

HIS ADVENTURES AND MIS

ADVENTURES.

FOUNDED ON FACT

BY MRS. MCTIER.

PART V.

HE fox was only too glad to be off the wall, and, with one of those flying leaps that had so frightened little Mabel in the garden, he reached the middle of the stack, and made a nest for himself in a trice.

Oh dear! how comfortable! He was at rest at last, and in perfect safety, with such a big deep bed of hay to lie in ; and, though you couldn't have caught him so, he was fast asleep in half-a-dozen winks.

He woke up at five o'clock in the morning quite wild with hunger-he was so accustomed to his regular meals; and the cat never turned up till quite seven. He was almost sure she had forgotten him; but she had only got locked in the pantry, and, it being Sunday, the servants were late getting up. "Take

"Come along," she called. care, and don't fall between the stack and the wall."

but these were so accustomed to kindness they suspected nothing or nobody.

Belinda then settled herself lower in the grass; her great green eyes grew bigger and her ears stood erect, her back became straight and stiff, her tail-her tail was a marvel in itself—began wagging slowly from side to side-then quicker and quicker, growing bigger and bushier every minute, as her whiskers—long white ones -stood out fiercely, and her claws spread themselves wider and wider as she made herself into the correct shape for a spring. But the fox could stand it no longer, and, exclaiming "Gwhr-r-r" as loud as he could, he rushed at the same rabbit the cat had been taking such careful aim at for quite five minutes before, just as she had got herself wound up to the right pitch for pouncing on the poor helpless little thing. And so it came to pass both hunters reached their game together, and, between the weight of the fox rolling over on him and the cat's sharp claws, poor bunny came to a rapid end.

After an hour's retirement in a shady corner for breakfast, Belinda and Sysyphus once more cast their eyes around.

The rabbits, after their first start and flight to their holes on the fox's and cat's appearance, had now recovered their usual calm confidence, and were scattered all over the dewy grass, grazing, or playing, or dressing their handsome coats.

And Sysyphus, who had gained a taste for hunting, soon made another attempt; the cat helping by frightening the rabbits all away from the safety of their holes to the other side of the garden.

Ah! how shall I tell the terrible story, and the ruin of those happy days in the Round garden? and how Sysyphus, by one day's action, made himself as notable a character in deeds of single combat as

any bold outlaw or hero of early history that we read of in wonder now?

After he had killed three rabbits, aided by the grey cat, such an heroic thirst for blood and the sense of power came over him he could not stop himself; and, spite of the cat's screams and strong language, and even rushing after him frantically with entreaties to stop, he would not listen. He was quite mad for more, and he never ceased till every single one of the beautiful gentle pets were murdered corpses the whole twenty-seven-dead, dead as door nails. And as he killed he laid them all in a row on the bright springing grass, over which they had been gambolling so merrily and friskily only an hour ago, and now-now they would never run again any more. O, poor, pretty rabbits! O, wicked, wicked pussy cat! It was she began it all. But, instead of condoling with him, off she went and left him all alone.

Alone with all the uselessly murdered rabbits in a strange garden, where he might be caught and killed any moment, and he felt-he sincerely felt-the awful guilt of his crime, and a shivering dread of the children's righteous anger.

He lay and thought, very miserably, what was he to do with his victims ? Why, bury them, of course, and lie hidden for a few days somewhere near till he should know his way about, while he could live on the rabbits till something fresh turned up. He could dig them up as he felt hungry, too.

So he soon scratched out a deep narrow trench with his easy-going claws, that had never yet been used for such a purpose. They were therefore long and sharp, and when he had the trench deep enough he neatly and smoothly packed all the soft, pretty rabbits, with their timid, quaint faces all down in

heard the family going off to school, and later the church-bell told him they were gone to church. Then it was very quiet.

He fell sound asleep.

Hark! what was that noise?

He started to his feet trembling, and his teeth chattering with sudden fear. There were people in the garden close to him.

He crouched down again close into the tall grass that grew thickly round the bush.

"Bunny! Bunny! Come here, Bunny!” "Bun! Bun! Bun! Where are you?" called four different clear little voices.

"Where can they be?" wondered one. 66 They must have eaten up all the clover we left last night, and are too fat to rise," laughed another.

"You've got the longest arm, Josie. Go down on your knees and put your head far into that hole." A long silence.

"There's nothing there.'
"Bun! Bun! Bun!"

"I have some lovely fresh parsley, if my big Flossie would only come for it," said Lu plaintively.

"Maybe they are under the artichoke leaves to shelter from the sun." And then the fox heard a rustling and running here and there of little feet, and there was a cold chill all over him.

"There's not a single one to be seen." "Can the boys have been trying to tease us and hidden them somewhere? You were at home, Alice, did you see any one go into the garden?"

"No, I didn't see a soul; the boys were all at church."

fox, afraid to breathe, heard footsteps running away.

The remaining little girls were hunting through the leaves, the grass, under the beehives, even down to the water's edge, with wondering exclamations, calling, "Bunny! Bunny! P-0-0-0-r Bunny!" in' every tone of coaxing possible all the time.

Sysyphus went nearly mad with dis-' tress of mind. The boys were coming!! The boys, with their quicker wits and surer vengeance, and what would become of him?

If he was discovered before or after that long grave in the grass, there was only a few leaves and flowers hiding him, or saving him from the bitterest end the cruel minds of boys could devise; and he saw no way of escape.

He peeped out, and there was the grey cat, blinking over her great white whiskers, sitting on the wall in the most aggravating safety. If his old friend Henry came with the others there might be hope for him. Could he possibly creep down to the water-pipe unnoticed?

"I will wait and see if Henry comes; and if he doesn't, I'll go.".

There came a buzzing of eager voices, a banging of the door, and such a mixture of boys and girls all talking together, and each one trying to be heard, as the dreadful news of the rabbits "missing" was told, that the fox was too bewildered to stir—and Henry wasn't there.

All the others were, down to little Con, the youngest boy but one.

Sysyphus watched despairingly as he saw the whole family join in the search, and just as Willie was nearing his hidingplace on hands and knees, there came a shout from Leslie"Here they are!"

(To be continued.)