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could discern which were impostors. The judge of
the place then took a portrait of the father and said
to them :—

‘That one amongst you who strikes with an arrow
the mark which I put upon the breast of this portrait,
shall have possession of the inheritance.’

The first took a bow and an arrow and struck near
the mark. The second shot the arrow in his turn,
and struck nearer still to the sign. The third hesi-
tated some seconds when on the point of shooting,
then he threw down the bow and arrow, and said,
bursting into tears, ‘No, I cannot fire at the portrait
of my father: Iwould rather give up the inheritance
than have it at such a price.’

    

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\

 
 

The judge got up from his seat and said, ‘ Noble
young man! you are alone the son and heir of the
deceased. A true son cannot pierce the heart of his
father, even in a portrait.’ E. H. C.

 

BROUGHT TOGETHER.

Ae were certainly the sounds of a horse’s feet
coming up the avenue, yet it was not like old
Hero’s brisk trot with which he was won’t to bring his
master home.

Mary Irvine, a young girl who had looked out many
a time during the past hour, as if in expectatin of
some one’s return, looked out again at the sound