IT is incredible what children know nowadays．One is almist at alossto say what there is that they do not know．

That the stork has fetched them out of the wellor out of the mill－dam，and brought them as little children to theirfather and mother，is now such an old story，that they don't believeit，andyetitistheonly true one．

Buthowdo the children come tobein the mill-dam

andthewell？Ah，everyonedoesnotknowthat，butstill some do．Have you ever really looked at the sky， on a clear starry night，andseen the manyshooting－stars？ It is as if a star fell and vanished． The most learned cannot ex- plain what they do not know themselves！ but it can be ex－plainedwhen oneknows it． It is just as if a little Christmascandle fell from the sky and wasextinguished； it is a soul－spark from Our Father， which travels down towards the earth， and whenit comes into our closer， heavier atmo－ sphere the brightness vanishes， and thereremainsonlywhat our eyes have not the power to see， for it is somethingmuch finer than our air， it is a heaven－child which is sent，a little angel， but without wings， for the little one shall be－come a man. Quietly it glidesthrough the air，andthe wind carriesit intoaflwer,itmaybeaviolet，a dande- lion， a rose or a ragged robin， there it lies and makes itselfstrong． It is light and airy； a flymightflyaway with it，orat any rate abee,and they come by turns to search for the sweetness intheflower．If nowthe air-childshould lie in their way， theydonotwhisk it out， theyha not the heart to do that； they lay it in the sun， on a wate- lily leaf， andfrom there it crawls and creeps down into the water， where it sleeps andgrows， till the storkcan see it， and fetches itto a human family， which wishes for such a sweet littleone； but whether it is sweet or not， depends on whetherthe little one has drunk of theclear spring， or has swal－ lowed mud or duck－weed the wrong way： that makes it soearthy．The stork takes the first hesee，without making any choice．One comes into a goodhouse to matchless parents； another comes tohard people in great poverty； itwould have been much better to stay in the mill－dam． The little ones do not remember at all what they dreamt about under the water－lily leaf， where in the evening the frogs sang to them，"Croak， croak， creek， creek,"—which means inthelanguage of men，"Will you see now， if you can sleep and dream！" They cannotremember either in which flower they first lay， or how it smelt， and yet there is somethingin them， when they grow up， which says，"This is the flower we like best，"and that is the one theylay in as air－children． The stork becomes a very old bird， and always pays sttention to how things go with the little oneshehas brought， and how they behave in theworld． He cannot really do anything for them， or change their lot， as he hashis own family to care for， but he never lets them slip outof his thoughts． I know an old， very honest stork， who has a great deal of knowledge， and has brought many little ones， andknows their stories，inwhich there is always a little mud and duck－weed from the mill-dam． Ibegged him to give a little life- sketch of one of them， and so he said thatI should get three for one from Peterson's house．

Itwasa particularly nicefamily， Peterson's．The

man was one of the town's two and thirty men， and thatwas a distinction： he lived for the two and thirty， andwent with the two and thirty． The stork came there， and brought a little Peter， for so the child was called． Next year the stork came again with another one；him theycalled Pete，and when the third was brought, he got the name of Peterkin，forinthe names Peter，Pete，and Peterkin， lies the name Peterson．

There were thus three brothers， three shooting－starscradled each in his own flower， laid under the water－lily leaf in the mill－dam， and brought from there to the familyPeterson，whose house is at the corner， as youknow．

They grew up bothinbody and soul，and then they wished to be something still greater than the two and thirty men．

Peter said that he would be a robber． He had seen the playof"Fra Diavolo"，andmade up hismind for therob－ ber—businessas themost delightful in theworld．

Pete would be a rattle－man， and Peterkin， who wassuch a good， sweet child，round and plump， but who bit his nails（that was his only fault）， Peterkin would be"Fa－ther"． That iswhat eachofthemsaidwhen any one asked what they wanted to be in the world．

And then they went to school． One became dux， and one became dunce， and one was betwixt and between； butfor all that they might be equally good and equally clever， and that they were，said their very clear-sighted parents．

Theywentto children's balls；they smoked cigars when no one saw them； theygrew in learning and knowl- edge．

Peter was stubborn from his earliest days， as of course a robber must be；he was a very naughty boy， buthis mother said that was because he suffered from worms；naughty children have always worms；—mud in the stom- ach．His self-willandstubbornness one day spent them－ selves on his mother's new silk dress．

"Don't push the coffee－table， my lamb，" she had said；"you might upset the cream-jug，andIshould get a stain on my new silk dress．" And the"lamb" took the cream-jug with afirm hand， and emptied it right into mother's lap， who could not help saying，"My lamb，mylamb，thatwasnot considerate ofyou，mylamb！"Butthe child had a will，she must admit．Will shows character， and that is so promising for a mother． Hemight certainly havebecome a robber， but he did not become it literally；heonly came to look like a robber； went about with a soft hat， bare neck， and long， loose hair； he was going to be an artist，but only got into the clothes of one， and also looked like a hollyhock； all the people he drew， lookedlike hollyhocks， they were so long and lanky． Hewasvery fond of that flower； he had in fact lain in a hollyhock， thestork said．

Pete hadlain in abuttercup． Helooked sobutteryround the corners of his mouth， and was yellow－skinned；

one might believe that ifhe was cut in the cheek， butter would come out． He seemed born to be a butter－man， and mighthavebeenhisownsign-board，but inwardly he was a"rattle－man"； he was the musical portionof thePeter－ son family，"but enough for allofthem together，"said the neighbours. He composedseventeendew polkas in a week， and made an opera out of them with trumpet and rattle． Oh， how lovely it was! Peterkin was white and red， little and common-look－ing； hehadlain in adaisy．He neverhit out when the otherboys struck him； he said that he was the mostsensi－ble， and the most sensible always gives way. He collectedfirst slate－pencils， then seals， then he got a little cabinetof natural curiosities， in which was the skeleton of astickle-back， three blind youngrats in spirits， and a stuffed mole．Peterkin had a taste forthe scientific and aneye for nature， and thatwasdelightful for the parents， and forPeterkin too．Hewould rather go into the woods than theschool， and preferred natureto discipline His brotherswere already engaged to bemarried， while he still lived only to complete his collection of the eggs of water－fowls． He very soon knew more about beasts thanabout human beings，and even thought that we could not approach the beasts in that which weset highest—

"love．"He saw that when the hen-nightingale sat hatch－ ing her eggs， the fathernightingale sat and sang the wholenight to his little wife，"Cluck，cluck， jug， jug， jug."Peterkin could never have done that， nor devoted himselfto the task．When the mother stork lay in the nest with the young ones， the father stork stood on the roof the whole night on one leg：Peterkin could not have stood like that for one hour． And when he one day observed the spi- der's web and what was in it， he quite gave up all thought of matrimony． Mr． Spider weaves to catch thoughtless flies， young and old， blood－filled andwind－dried； he lives to weave and nourish his family， butMrs． Spiderlives forFather alone．She eats him up form sheerlove； she eats his heart， his head， his stomach，onlyhis longthinlegs remain behind in theweb，where he sat with the task of supporting the whole family． That is thesimple truth， straight out of natural history．Peterkin saw that and thought itover；"to beloved by one's wife like that， tobeeaten by herin violentlove. No; no human be- ing goes as far as that； and would it be desirable？"

Peterdetermined nevertomarry！ neverto give or to take a kiss； that might look like the firit step towards mat－rimony． But still he got one kiss， the one we all get， thegreat hearty kiss of Death． When we have lived long enough，Death getstheorder"kiss away!" and so the per－ son is gone． There flashes from our Lord a sun－blink， sostrong that one is almost blinded． The soul of man， whichcame， like a meteor，flies hence again like a meteor，but not to rest in a flower or to dream under a water－lily leaf．

It has more important things before it， it flies into the greatland of Eternity， but how things are there， or what it lookslike， no one can tell． No one has seen into it， not even thestork， however far he can see， and however much he mayknow． Nor did he know any more about Peterkin， thoughhe did about Peter and Pete； butI have heard enough about them，and so have you； so I said"Thanks" to the stork for this time；but now he demands for this common little story three frog sand a young snake； he takes his pay－mentin victuals．Will youpay？ I won't！ I have neither frogs nor young snakes．

贝脱、比脱和比尔

现在的小孩子所知道的事情真多，简直叫人难以相信！你很难说他们有什么事情不知道。说是鹳鸟把他们从井里或磨坊水闸里捞起来，然后把他们当作小孩子送给爸爸和妈妈——他们认为这是一个老故事，半点也不会相信。但是这却是唯一的真事情。

不过小孩子又怎样来到磨坊水闸和井里的呢？的确，谁也不知道�............