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A sweet color was I. "Yes, that's what I said; Cockerel. Isn't your last name Cockerel?"

He smiled, chirped the horses up and resumed his chat. I heard him praise my horse and compare him not unfavorably with his own which he had lost that morning'. He and a few picked men had been surprised in a farmhouse at breakfast. They had made a leap and a dash, he said, but one horse and rider falling dead, his horse, unhurt, had tumbled over them, and here was his rider.

She struck a mock-sentimental attitude and murmured musically--

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