go The Catskill Fawries,

THE GREEN BELT.

“ Far away in the backwoods, where the lumber comes from,
a poor widow once lived, with her seven sons, the eldest being
eighteen, and the youngest, Peter, a lad of ten years. Peter
was born with a caul drawn over his head, like a funny little
cap, and the old women said he must meet with great good-
fortune in life on this account.

“The father was a hunter, who trapped the beavers and
otters, but he had been killed by a fall down a precipice.
The winter was very severe, and daily the snow-drifts were
piled higher and higher, hedging in the poor cottage from the
nearest neighbor, who lived two miles distant.

“One night when a violent hailstorm was dashing torrents of
icy musketry upon the roof and against the windows, the fami-
ly gathered around the fire—there would always be fuel with
the forest so near at hand.

“<«Tt is a great deal to be warm, children, said the mother,
spreading her fingers to enjoy the blaze. ‘I must tell you
plainly that the meal-chest is nearly empty, and there is but
one sack of potatoes left.’

“The children pulled on very long faces; they began to feel
pinched under their jackets with hunger. Just then a distinct
tap, tap, was heard on the door.