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SOME girl cousins of mine living in New Jersey have an odd pet. It is a white red squirrel. You have all seen red squirrels-"chickarees" they call them, from the sounds of their chattering and scolding, as they drop nutshells on your head, or run down a tree-trunk by fits and starts, giving a little "chick" with each forward rush, while they watch you sharply.

Our little pet is like one of these in every way, except that he is so snowy white that the cleanest table-cloth looks dingy compared to him.

He was born in a cranberry-bog. Some men cutting brush there saw two strange little animals, one white, the other cream-colored.

They caught this white one by throwing a coat over him, but the creamy squirrel ran away.

When the captive was brought home all admired him greatly, for he was, as you may imagine, a very beautiful little creature, with his long bushy tail and bright woodland tricks.

But there is one really strange thing about him his eyes are not red or pink, as are those of most white animals, but they are as black as any squirrel's could be. So my girl cousins call him "Beads.”

When an animal belonging to a species commonly dark in color is born white instead, it is called an "albino." You have all seen albino

rabbits and rats and mice. Their eyes are pink. So that Beads is really a most uncommon fellow, a snowy squirrel with jet-black eyes.

Albino or not, he is at any rate a most winning little pet, and there is no end to his pretty ways. As a cat and a kitten live with the same family, he has to be kept in a squirrel-cage; but he is let out a long time each day. Then Beads is quite happy. He climbs up the back of the chair and nibbles the hair of the person seated in it, gnaws the flowers in the windowsill, rushes up the stems of the callas, and scratches in the earth until it flies on all sides. He will rub his head and face and all his body in the earth, until his clean white dress is a sight to behold. After that he hops to the floor, and rubs his face carefully upon the carpet.

He loves to retire to a corner or under a piece of furniture for his toilet, going in gray and coming out white. If you peep and watch him, it is great fun, for he scrubs and combs himself with his paws in the neatest way, washes his face just as a cat does, and then takes his big tail in his paws and uses it for a towel! One often hears people wonder why squirrels have such big tails. All know that they are useful as balancing-poles and blankets, and are charming as ornaments, but not many are in Beads's secret of their usefulness as towels.

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Since he could no longer run up trees and keep his claws worn down, they grew so long as to catch in the carpet. His friends were afraid he might break his legs, so they held him and very carefully cut his nails.

Beads has his own notions about his food. He makes but one meal a day, eating very heartily of corn, taking the sweet kernels only, and throwing the rest away. He always keeps a nut or two soaking in his water-cup to soften and to save his teeth. He hides most of his store in his bed, always eating the nuts that have been in the water. Others he loves to hide all over the room, whence they come rolling down on one at unexpected moments.

He was presented with a big box of woods earth to dig in. In this he loves to hide a nut. Then he will begin his usual scratching, gradually clearing all away but just a column where his treasure is, as he supposes, hidden.

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NICK landed upon a pile of soft earth. It broke away under his feet and threw him forward upon his hands and knees. He got up, a little shaken but unhurt, and stood close to the wall, looking all about quickly. A party of gaily dressed gallants were haggling with the horse-boys at the sheds; but they did not even look at him. A passing carter stared up at the window, measuring the distance with his eye, whistled incredulously, and trudged on. Nick listened a moment, but heard only the clamor of voices inside, and the zoon, zoon, zoon of the viol. He was trembling all over, and his heart was beating like a trip-hammer. He wanted to run, but was fearful of exciting suspicion. Heading straight for the river, he walked as fast as he could through the gardens and the trees, brushing the dirt from his hose as he went.

by Nick's calling him gentleman, spoke up: "Here, jack-sculler," said he; "I'll toss up wi' thee for it." He pulled a groat from his pocket and began spinning it in the air. "Come, thou lookest a gamesome fellow cross he goes, pile he stays; best two in three flips what sayst?"

"Done!" said the waterman.

up!"

Up went the groat. Nick held his breath.

"Pop her

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There was a wherry just pushing out from "More haste, worse speed," said the garOld Marigold stairs with a single passenger, a dener; "only evil weeds grow fast!" and he gardener with a basket of truck. rubbed the groat on his jerkin. "Now, jack"Holloa!" cried Nick, hurrying down; sculler, hold thy breath; for up she goes "will ye take me across?"

"For thrippence," said the boatman, hauling the wherry alongside again with his hook.

Thrippence? Nick stopped, dismayed. Master Carew had his gold rose-noble, and he had not thought of the fare. They would soon find that he was gone.

"Oh, I must be across, sir," he cried. "Can ye na take me free? I be little and not heavy; and I will help the gentleman with his basket." The boatman's only reply was to drop his hook and push off with the oar.

But the gardener, touched by the boy's pitiful expression, to say nothing of being tickled VOL. XXIV.-69.

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again!"

A man came running over the rise. Nick gave a little frightened cry. It was only a huckster's knave with a roll of fresh butter. The groat came down with a splash in the bottom of the wherry. The boatman picked it up out of the water and wiped it with his sleeve. "Here, boy, get aboard," said he, shoving off; "and be lively about it!"

The huckster's knave came running down the landing. He pushed Nick aside, and scrambled into the wherry, puffing for breath. The boat fell off into the current. Nick, making a plunge for it into the water, just managed to

catch the gunwale and get aboard, wet to the knees. But he did not care for that; for although there were people going up Paris Garden lane, and a crowd about the entrance of the Rose, he could not see Master Carew or the bandy-legged man anywhere. So he breathed a little freer, yet kept his eyes fast upon the play-house until the wherry bumped against Blackfriars stairs.

Picking up the basket of truck, he sprang ashore, and, dropping it upon the landing, took

"ZTOP UN, ZTOP UN, DO NOW!' SAID THE WORKMAN."

a wicket-gate that was standing half ajar, and went through it into the old cloisters.

Everything there was still. He was glad of that, for the noise and the rush of the crowd outside confused him.

The place had once been a well kept garden-plot; but now was become a mere stack of odds and ends of boards, and beams, shavings, mortar, and broken brick. A long-legged fellow with a green patch over one eye was building a pair of stairs to a door beside which a

sign read: "Playeres Here: None Elles." Nick doffed his cap. "Good-day," said he; "is Master Will Shakspere in?"

The man put down his saw and sat back upon one of the trestles, staring stupidly: "Didst za-ay zummat ?"

"I asked if Master Will Shakspere was in ?"

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The fellow scratched his head with a bit of shaving. "Noa, Muster Wull Zhacksper beant in."

Nick's heart stopped with a thump. "Where is he do ye know?" "A's gone awa-ay," drawled the workman vaguely.

"Away? Whith

er ?"

"A's gone to Ztratvoard to-own, whur 's woife do li-ive - went a-yesterday."

Nick sat blindly down upon the other trestle. He did not put his cap on again: he had quite forgotten it.

Master Will Shakspere gone to Strat

to his heels up the bank, without stopping to ford-and only the day before! thank either gardener or boatman.

The gray walls of the old friary were just ahead, scarcely a stone's throw from the river. With heart beating high, he ran along the close, looking eagerly for the entrance. He came to

Too late-just one little day too late! It seemed like cruel mockery. Why, he might be almost home! The thought was more than he could bear: who could be brave in the face

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