THE DOGBERRY BUNCH, THE DOGBERRY BUNCH. PART It. BY MARY HARTWELL CATHERWOOD. CHAPTER III. RED SHORT-HAND. HIS philosophy struck kindred sparks in the rest of the family, and they at once prepared to have a good time, The supper dishes were soon on their shelves, and the house as trim as a new schooner. Then they made another procession to look at all their improve- ments, and rejoiced over everything, Jack declaring he was glad after all that they had such a nice look- ing place to leave. “It’s more credit to us than the old house, and whoever lives in it will feel obliged to us.†“It’s a home,†said Allie. “The next people can’t help knowing that.†For fear this subject should grow moister, they ran out on the lawn and trooped up and down over every familiar spot. Rome and Remus swarmed up into the Air Castle, and Arty bruised his shins trying to follow. Loo put a pansy band all around his hat. Then they all played croquet, till it grew so dark the balls were hopelessly hid by the grass, and then they brought chairs out, and cuddled in them or on the stoop, close together. Loo had some spice cook- ies in the pantry. She brought them out, and they munched and were happy. By mutual understand- ing they let their future alone, and told stories, and jokes, and rhymes. A freight train rumbled past, and they watched through the trees the glare of its eye, and a solitary figure or two darting back and . fcrth on it. “No, 8,†said Jack, with business address, lifting Arty up on his knees to watch it. If there was one thing on earth more attractive to Arty than locomo- tive power, he had not yet discovered it. He stood on Jack’s legs, bracing himself by Jack’s scalp, and ‘strained his eyes till the freight was quite lost in darkness, and even its two ruby rear lamps were obscured. Then he slid to his feet, and sat down again on the step, murmuring: “ The Big Black Horse!†“Say ‘The Big Black Horse,’ Arty!†cried Rheem. “ Can’t say it.†“OQ yes, you can!†said Jack. “We've said ita hundred times. Cousin Joslyn won’t make you any more poetry if you go and forget it.†Arthur wriggled on the step and professed himself able to say “pieces†of it, if Jacky would do it, too. Jacky, therefore, darted off like a mother-bird luring her young one to fly, and Arty flopped alongside as well as he could, very glib with-some of the lines and making a mere mumble of the others. In this way †they had really recited “The Big Black Horse†a hundred times, thereby greatly edifying their family. “The Big Black Horse is my heart’s delight, I run to watch him by day or night. I waked in the night and I heard his hoofs Come making thunder past walls and roofs. He snorted coals, and they flew up higher Than even the glare of his eye of fire. He panted and rushed and my breath I hushed — How awful to be by his tramping crushed ! — The houses shook as his carts flew past, All barred and darkened except the last. A rose-red light hung over its dash Perhaps so the driver could see to lash Any hangers-on, who might love to crash Through dark — through cities—through water-course, At the heels of the glorious BIG BLACK HORSE! “The Big Black Horse wears a brazen bell, In towns and at crossings he rings it well— ‘Get out of my way, little sons of men, The Big Black Horse must go by again!’ Burnished and clean is his panting hide- You can see a bright throb dart along his side!