IV_.
What boys CAN do may be gathered from the following true story, sent me by a correspondent who was the immediate sufferer:-- One summer day he met in town an acquaintance who for many years had been abroad; and finding his appetite for old books as keen as ever, invited him home to have a mental feed upon "fifteeners" and other bibliographical dainties, preliminary to the coarser pleasures enjoyed at the dinner-table.

The "home" was an old mansion in the outskirts of London, whose very architecture was suggestive of black-letter and sheep-skin.

The weather, alas! was rainy, and, as they approached the house, loud peals of laughter reached their ears.

The children were keeping a birthday with a few young friends.

The damp forbad all outdoor play, and, having been left too much to their own devices, they had invaded the library.