But the wolf opened the door of his den, put a lamp in his paw, and peered all round till he had discovered the tailor, whom he then seized by the legs, and, without more ado, dragged into his sitting-room.

When he was about to be killed, the poor fellow cried, and bemoaned himself in such a heartrending manner, that the wife, who was a good soul, put in a word for him to her husband.

"Well, then," said the wolf, "he may live, but he must never return to men, or he would betray us; he must stay here, and become a wolf."

'Most joyfully," said the tailor; "for I would rather live as a wolf than be cooked and eaten as a man."

Whereupon the wolf fetched one of his old furs out of the cupboard, and his wife had to sew the tailor into it; but round the hump it was too narrow. However, the wolves were soon comforted by being told that all their hump-backed relations in the great world wear their coats a little open at the breast.

So the tailor stayed with them, soon learnt to howl perfectly, and to walk on all fours; besides which, he became quite expert in catching rabbits, which the wolves cannot manage well, as they are so very awkward and unwieldy.

One day, when they had all gone out hunting together, it happened that the king of the same land was also hunting in the wood. As soon as the hunters came near the wolves, they and the tailor took to their heels, the latter because he feared he might be taken for a real wolf, on account of his skin, and be shot.

They ran into a neighbouring thicket, and hid themselves behind some bushes, when the old wolf whispered to the others to keep quiet, without fear, for he had seen no dogs, and without their help no huntsmen would find them.

He spoke truly, for it so happened that a wild boar had killed every single dog, and after a time they heard the whole party ride past their hiding-place.

Then it occurred to the king, who was greatly annoyed at the loss of his dogs, to take a pinch of snuff; after which he sneezed violently. The tailor, who had not yet lost his knowledge of polite ways, said respectfully: "Your good health, sire!"

When the king heard these words, he rode towards the bush, and all his huntsmen followed him.

Here they perceived the wolves, and the king and his companions set up a loud shout of joy. They threw their spears so well, that only the old wolf could escape; and the tailor was the last to be seen, because he had hidden himself so well, but before the huntsmen could aim at him, he had rolled himself, howling piteously, towards the king.

His Majesty alighted from his horse, and examined the tailor before and behind, but could not conceive what singular animal he was. He knew he had never heard of such a creature at school. As it had a hump, it might be a dromedary; but otherwise it resembled a wolf. At last the poor tailor, trembling all over, raised himself up, and said:

"I beg your pardon, sire; I am really a tailor's apprentice, and only by accident among the wolves."

Then they all began to laugh, and a huntsman cut him out of his skin. A horse also was brought, that he might ride by the king's side and relate his tale.

"Tailor," then said the king, very graciously, "you have caused me much amuse Dent, and if you like, you may remain with me."

This speech pleased the little man right well, and he rode straight away to the castle, where he lived in joy and luxury for some time, as the king's court and private tailor.

But the old wolf, who had escaped with his life, felt raging anger against all human beings, especially towards the tailor, who had been the cause of the death of his wife and children; and he determined to revenge himself.

So he lay continually on the watch, and any man who appeared in his sight was a child of death. The whole land was full of grief and sorrow, for hardly a day passed in which at least one human being did not meet with a sorrowful end in the grip of the fierce old wolf.

But he said: "It is not yet enough, they must all come to it; and the tailor shall suffer the most, for bringing about the death of my wife and children, because he could not hold his tongue."

Saying which, he went to the castle, where the tailor was just looking out of the window, smoking a pipe.

"Fellow!" said the wolf, "you must die, or I cannot rest."

Terror seized the little man, and he told the king what the wolf had threatened.

"Wait, tailor," answered the king; it is now high time that we should catch this wretch, even if it costs me my only daughter. He has not even respect for the court-tailor; so what will such conduct lead to? And besides, he is eating up all my subjects, which I cannot allow; for, if I have no subjects, I can no longer be a king. But we must catch him living; he must not die an honest death, he must hang, and we will be present."

He spoke, and caused it to be proclaimed through the whole land, that he who brought the wolf alive should be his son-in-law. But when the heralds returned, all remained as before, for no one ventured to undertake the deed.

The tailor had not dared to leave the castle for days, for fear of the monster; but at length he could sit still no longer, and went into the garden one bright summer's day. Suddenly the wolf sprang from behind a tree, caught the poor fellow by the tail of his coat, and dragged him far into the wood, in spite of all his wriggling and screaming.

Here the wolf turned round, and looked fiercely at the tailor, who was trembling like an aspen leaf, and wiping the perspiration from his face.

"Rascal of a tailor!" said he; "you have brought me into misery, therefore you must die."

The teeth of the victim chattered, and he quietly uttered every prayer he could think of.

"If you have anything to say, speak, but quickly," said the wolf. The tailor thought he would try and make a compromise, so he said:

"Oh! if you will only let me go, I will persuade the king to allow you to have as many sheep every day as you can possibly eat."

But the wolf showed him his teeth, and said: "No, you must die!" "If you let me go, you shall become a great lord in the empire, and wear a decoration and a gold chain."

"No," answered the wolf, "but you must die!"

66

Then, in his dire need, a cunning, artful idea occurred to the tailor, and he exclaimed: Look, there come the huntsmen !" and as the wolf turned round in alarm, the tailor leaped on to his back, and held his hands tightly over the creature's eyes.

Then the wolf ran as he had never run in his life before, so that

each moment he thought his hated rider must fall to the ground. But he sat quite firmly, stuck the heels of his boots into the wolf's side, as though he had had spurs on, and called out: "Gee-up, my little steed !"

And as the creature could not see, the tailor guided him towards the castle to an open stable-door, there got down, pushed him into one of the stalls, and then bolted the door on the outside.

"Wait a bit, old fellow !" he then said, "now I will buy you a rope;" and he went to the king to announce that he had caught the wolf.

His Majesty was highly delighted that the tailor was such a cunning fellow, and consented that the betrothal to his daughter should take place at once.

The wolf was really hanged, and his skin, which the tailor received among his wedding-gifts, has been preserved to the present day, and just now lies under the table, belonging to the author of this little tale.

S

CANADA HOME.

¡OME Homes are where flowers for ever blow,

The sun shining hotly the whole year round; But our Home glistens with six months of snow, Where frost without wind heightens every sound.

And Home is Home wherever it is,

When we're all together and nothing amiss.

Yet Willy is old enough to recall

A Home forgotten by Eily and me;

He says that we left it five years since last Fall,
And came sailing, sailing, right over the sea!
But Home is Home wherever it is,

When we're all together and nothing amiss.

Our other Home was for ever green,

A very green isle in a deep, blue sea,

With sweet flowers such as we never have seen.
And Willy tells all this to Eily and me.
But Home is Home wherever it is,

When we're all together and nothing amiss.