In three hours Cruiser's owner was able to mount him, and Mr. Rarey's fortune was made, for the horse was a distinguished individual, whose return to society was hailed with joy. Queen Victoria expressed her pleasure at Cruiser's improvement and frequently came to see him and caress him.

Cruiser became the property of his tamer, and went with Mr. Rarey through the principal countries of Europe. Everywhere throngs came to see him and his still more wonderful master.

"My mission," said Mr. Rarey, "is to teach men that kindness, patience and firmness must be used in the management of horses. They are taught by gentleness and not by harshness."

Rarey gave free lectures to cabmen and truck-drivers wherever he went, and the crowned heads of Europe were glad to share the privilege of hearing and seeing him. Horses that had been frightened and angered by ill-usage became, under his treatment, mild and easily governed. The amount of good he accomplished it is not easy to estimate. He died before he was forty years old, but the lesson he taught is not wholly forgotten. Just before his death he said: "If I could only get back once more to the old farm, and put my arms round my dear horses' necks, I believe I should get well."

THE ARAB TO HIS HORSE.

Come, my beauty! come, my desert darling!
On my shoulder lay thy glossy head!
Fear not, though the barley-sack be empty,
Here's the half of Hassan's scanty bread.Thou shalt have thy share of dates, my beauty!
And thou know'st my water-skin is free:
Drink and welcome, for the wells are distant,
And my strength and safety lie in thee.Bend thy forehead now, to take my kisses!
Lift in love thy dark and splendid eye:
Thou art glad when Hassan mounts the saddle,--
Thou art proud he owns thee: so am I.Let the Sultan bring his boasted horses,
Prancing with their diamond-studded reins;
They, my darling, shall not match thy fleetness
When they course with thee the desert plains!We have seen Damascus, O my beauty!
And the splendor of the Pashas there;
What's their pomp and riches? why, I would not
Take them for a handful of thy hair!
BAYARD TAYLOR.[Illustration: After a painting by Sir Edwin Landseer]

"WAITING FOR MASTER."

Though late the master's voice is heard above,
And slowly lag his footsteps on the stair,
No hint of weariness to him ascends
From those who uncomplaining wait him there.If patience, faithfulness and perfect love
Are ranked as noble virtues everywhere,
May we not claim for these three loyal friends
A right in such nobility to share?

PART II

A GROUP OF WORKERS

ROBERT'S DREAM.

One hot afternoon Robert was playing under the maple tree. He was tired of his wagon and his train of cars, and he looked about for something else to play with. "Come here, Prince!" he said to his dog. "Let me put my hat on your head and play that you are a little boy."

Prince was sleepy and tired. He did not feel like playing that he was a little boy. He shook his head until the hat fell off, and Robert struck him with a stick. Then the poor dog ran away.

Under the rose-bush was Snowball, the cat, having a good nap.

"Oh, Snowball!" said Robert, "I will give you a ride." And he tried to put her into the tiny wagon.