had, reduced to simple principles, become part of elementary education.
"But you, Reva, are not so lucky to-day as I have been."
"In what way?" inquired she, evidently puzzled as to what was referred to, but seeing that her father was inclined to tease, a somewhat unusual thing with him, and a sure sign that he was in the best of spirits.
"You must know," said he, addressing me, that this good daughter of mine is ambitious. She has been indulging lately in wild dreams of future fame. Her name was to descend to the latest posterity linked with the discovery of the Something-or-other Diothensis."
"Oh, my poor plant!" exclaimed Reva, half amused, half dismayed. "What has happened?"
"Your pet is safe," said Hulmar, as we rose from table. But it proves to be a most undesirable vehicle to posthumous fame. Your cousin, here, can tell you what your uncle Aslan could not." This uncle, it must be mentioned, was an authority on botany.
"He knows my new plant?" said Reva with sparkling eyes.
"It turns ont to be a very old and a very mischievous one," replied her father.
By the time he had repeated to her what I had told about the plant, we were all standing before it.
"It is so beautiful," said Reva, regarding it somewhat. ruefully. "Yet it must be destroyed, I suppose."
Since Reva said it was beautiful, I began to think so too; because she showed an interest in it. I forthwith became earnest to save the existence of what I had hith-
