terrupted by Lottie's drawing closer to him in evident fear, and murmuring, "There's some of 'em !— big Davy, and Jack Thomson, and Tommy Higgs."

"Don't mind them, you've nothing to be afraid of," said Arthur, encouraging his little companion.

"They may kill my hen, as they killed our poor kitten!" faultered Lottie, as they approached the spot where three dirty ragged boys, stretched on the turf, were amusing themselves in tearing off the legs and wings of some wretched butterflies that they had caught.

"I say, my lads," cried Arthur Madden, "how many butterflies could the smallest of you kill in five minutes ?"

The authoritative tone, and the commanding presence of the speaker, arrested the attention of the young ragamuffins. Davy's mouth expanded in a broad grin as he answered, "Bushels of 'em if we could get 'em."

Yes, one child could take the life of thousands of butterflies," said Arthur, "but how many men would it require to give back life to a single insect ?"

The boys all stared at a question so strange and unexpected; then Thomson muttered, "There's no one could do it."

"No, life is God's gift alone, and no one should wantonly take it away from one of the beautiful creatures that He has made to enjoy it," said Arthur.

This was evidently a very new doctrine to the Had not the speaker been "a tall

ragged audience.

grand gentleman," he would probably have been answered by a roar of laughter; as it was, Davy relaxed his hold on the wings of a struggling captive, and the insect made its escape, no one attempting to catch it again.

"It always appears to me to be a cowardly thing to hurt anything just because it is feeble and weak, and cannot resist," said Arthur, who had an object in speaking beyond that of saving butterflies. "It

is the office of the strong to protect the weak, of the bold to take care of the timid. I knew a man, an officer, who when in India went hunting on foot a lion that had carried off a poor child."

"He was a bold chap, he was," muttered Davy. "Did the lion kill him ?" asked Tom.

"No, he killed the lion," said Arthur, "and I've seen the head stuffed, and the great white fangs that could have torn a horse in pieces. Now, that officer was a true-hearted brave Englishman, he dared attack a lion, but he would not have trodden on a worm. He was not afraid to ride up to the enemy's cannon, but as for torturing an insect or frightening a girl, he would have blushed to do such a cowardly thing."

Whether Arthur had convinced the reason of the boys may be doubted, but he had certainly gained their attention; he felt his advantage and went on.

"Now I should be sorry to think that there was not a fine brave fellow amongst you. Here's a little girl who is afraid to cross the common alone; would not one of you go with her, and take care of her, and if any big blustering coward tried to frighten or hurt her, knock down the bully at once?"

'Yes, I would-I would," cried the boys one after the other.

"

'There, you hear them," said Arthur to Lottie, scarcely able to keep his countenance as he spoke ; "there you have three protectors to choose from whenever you chance to want one, who will protect you as brave boys should. Good day to you, my lads," he continued, turning courteously to the three boys, "may you grow up to be as gallant fellows as my friend the officer, and kill your lion, as he did, if ever you come across one."

Arthur strode rapidly on to hide his mirth, followed by the wondering Lottie, who could not comprehend how the gentleman had suddenly turned her tormentors into her champions.

"I say, he's a fine tall chap," observed Davy, "I daresay he's been and killed a lion himself."

"He's a-stoopin' and talkin' to Lottie Stone!" observed Tommy with surprise; "he'd be a-whacking any one as hurt her!"

M

CHAPTER XIV.

A VISIT TO WILDWASTE.

EANWHILE Arthur, with his little Red Ridinghood trotting beside him, pursued his way to the hamlet where rose the tall brick chimney with its cloud of black smoke of no fragrant description.

"How can you bear to live constantly close to such a scent as that?" exclaimed the young man, whose easy luxurious life had ill prepared him for any annoyance of the kind.

"We bears it 'cause we can't help it," said Lottie naively; Arthur smiled, for he thought that there was more philosophy in the reply, than there had been wisdom in the question. He was just wondering to himself whether human ingenuity could have devised a place more unattractive than Wildwaste hamlet, with its hideous manufactory, its tumbledown cottages, its staring public-house, and the heaps of dust and dirt that encumbered what ought to have been neat gardens, when a shrill shriek from one of the cottages, a shriek of terror or of pain, made him start, and realize that there might be something in

Wildwaste worse than scent of melting tallow, or sight of desolation and dirt.

"Oh, it's mother-father's at her!" cried Lottie in terror. Arthur sprang forward to the door of the cottage whence shriek after shriek now proceeded.

What he beheld within it, filled him with indignation and disgust. A powerful-looking workman, dirty, unshaven, and evidently under the excitement of liquor, had struck again and again a wretched woman who was crouching before him, with her black hair hanging wildly about her, and stains of blood on her face, which wore an expression of terror such as Arthur had never seen in human countenance before. No marvel, for her brutal husband, not satisfied with the blows already dealt by his strong hand, had just snatched up the poker from the fire-place, with evident intention to bring down its crushing weight on his miserable victim! Two

or three men were looking on near the door, but not interfering, save by muttering, "He'll kill her," "he'll do for her," "he's a brute;" probably none of them was inclined to risk having his brains dashed out by the heavy iron in the grasp of the furious drunkard.

But no thought of personal risk stopped Arthur for a moment. With one bound he cleared the space between them, confronted the ruffian, his weaponless hand upraised as if to arrest the force of a blow, his eyes flashing with indignation, while loud and stern