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verdure, and with a burst of crimson illuminated the hillside against the blue sky, like a vertical burning bush in the desert.

There is something a little oppressive in the unchanging soberness of our ever-green forests. Seasons return, but not to them returns the time of budding, and leafing, and the vivid autumnal radiance of deciduous trees. It was almost a relief when they passed on and came to a gate, and a little farther found a clear space of grass, a small white veranda-house, such as country settlers generally build, and the usual cheerful bark of dogs and clacking of poultry to announce their arrival.

“Surely this isn’t the enchanted palace!” exclaimed Alice, surprised at such a commonplace termination to their journey. “I am very glad to see a house and chimney again, and to have a prospect of some Christian tea; but this isn’t a bit what I expected.”

“Wait a minute or two. This is the place the manager lives in. We must be near the sea again. I hear it rolling in, though we can’t see it.”

A boy appeared, and took their horses, and let them know that their arrival was expected. “Mother is getting you some tea yonder,” he