and looking at the Kanter girls with unterrified eyes. One gayly colored macaw, in particular, seemed determined to keep in their neighborhood, and whichever way they turned, he would almost immediately appear on some rock or shrub close by.

"I wish I knew how to talk to him," said Prue.

It was still early in the afternoon, and the sun shone with such heat that Janet said they had better walk in the shade, where the trees were thicker.

So they took a little path which led them along in a roundabout way among the trees, and presently brought them into an orange-grove, where the oranges grew as thick as the apples in their father's apple orchard at home.

The ripest and yellowest are at the top," said Janet, looking up. "How shall we manage to get

them? I think I will try to climb."

But just as she took hold of a bough, the macaw settled down upon it and screamed at her, so she drew back and stood hesitating.

"I hear voices up in the trees," said Prue, catching her by the arm, but it isn't like our language, and I can't tell what they say. Oh! look, don't you see a boy up there?"

"Yes, and he is going to throw oranges at us!"

exclaimed Janet, dodging just in time to escape the biggest one she ever saw.

They could hear a great chattering now in the tree-tops, as if there were at least five or six boys there, and oranges came tumbling down on every side.

"Do you suppose they are savages?" whispered Prue, as she and Janet sought refuge close by the trunk of the largest tree.

"I'm afraid they are," said Janet. "Oh! dear, oh! dear, there is one climbing now down that tree. I never saw a common person look like that! I know it is a savage boy, but maybe he is too young to have a bow and arrows or spears!"

The savage boy now leaped to the ground, and was followed by four or five others, all grinning and chattering and gesticulating. They seated themselves on the soft green grass and began to eat oranges, beckoning to the Kanter girls, as if inviting them to join them.

"I never saw such big, juicy oranges," said Janet ; "and, oh! Prue, I do believe they are not savages at all, they are just big apes! Don't let's be afraid of them."

So the little girls edged along slowly, and as soon as they reached the oranges they sat down on the

grass and began to eat. They found the golden fruit so sweet, so delicious, and so refreshing that it seemed as if they could never have enough of it.

It was a strange little lunch party they made there, on the shady bank of the tropical island, the Kanter girls with their bonnets falling back on their shoulders, their eager eyes and rosy cheeks, and the wild, grotesque apes with hairy legs and arms, and constant grin and chatter; the macaw perched on a branch near by, watching them; and there were birds of Paradise, and humming-birds, coming and going all the time.

The feast went on very peaceably for some time, till at last, unfortunately, Prue put out her hand to take a fine orange which one of the apes had just selected for himself. As quick as a flash he slapped her rudely, and then all the apes sprang to their feet at once, and the macaw began to scream with all his might.

"Let's go away!" said Janet, trying to speak calmly and taking her sister by the hand. But as they turned the apes sprang after them, seizing them by their aprons and dresses, so that they could not get away.

"Oh! they will drag us off to their houses," sobbed Prue, overcome with terror.

"Our rings! our rings!" cried Janet, and immediately both the little girls plunged their hands into their pockets.

The skinny, hairy hands of the apes suddenly ceased clutching, for there was nothing to clutch. Where had their victims gone? They ran about, searching fiercely for a few moments, and then, as if accusing one another, had a rough-and-tumble fight together, wrestling, growling, and scratching, and finally took themselves off out of sight and sound, disappearing among distant trees.

"What tale ne'er to be told, of folk unborn?

What images of gray-clad damsels sweet

Shall cross thy sward with dainty, noiseless feet?"
-William Morris.

HR

breeze rustling the leaves ever so faintly,

only the mute fluttering of the butterflies, only the soft low chance note of a bird. The macaw stepped down upon the ground, and hopped about as if uncertain which way to go.

Suddenly, in the trunk of a palm-tree near by, a window seemed to open, the bark parting like blinds, and the sweetest, merriest face in the world peeped out, about six feet above the ground.

"Can't you find them, macaw ?"

These words were uttered in a musical, teasing voice. The macaw shook his head solemnly.