THE little boy and girl in the picture on page 389 were children of King James II. of England; but about seven years before it was painted he had been driven from his throne because he had tried to force his people to change their religion against their will. The boy's name was James Francis Edward, and he was seven years old when this portrait was taken. The little girl's name was Louisa Mary. She was then hardly four years old, but in the portrait she is dressed like a grown-up court lady. Though their father was a king, he was very poor, for, when he fled from England, he was forced to leave behind him everything he possessed. He would not have known where to obtain food and shelter for himself and his family had not the King of France, Louis XIV., given him a large sum of money every year, and lent him a beautiful house to live in, called the Château of St. Germains. Many English people, who thought that James ought to be King of England still, came to live at St. Germains too. They had spent their money and lost their lands and houses in trying to help James II. to regain his crown, and now some of them were almost starving, and James, in his turn, had to use in helping them much of the money that the French king gave him.

His little son and daughter were taught not to spend their money on sweetmeats and toys, but to save it up for the education of the children of the poor gentlemen who had suffered so much for their father's sake. These children were a great deal at St. Germains, so James and Louise had no lack of playfellows, and, in spite of their father's misfortunes, they had a merry childhood.

King James seems to have made a special pet of his little girl, whom he called his comforter, while his wife, Queen Mary, was exceedingly fond and proud of both her children. They were very pretty, and she loved to dress them in rich laces and bright-colored velvets even when they were mere babies; but the French ladies wondered to see such small children dressed in robes of state. The queen herself had been brought up very strictly, so she was careful not to be too severe with her own children. She treated them as friends and companions, and they loved her dearly. Happily for them, she sometimes seemed able to forget her troubles, and St. Germains witnessed many a gay scene while the royal exiles held their little court there.

There were birthday parties for the prince and princess, and masquerades and picnics, and merry romps in the fields beside the Seine, Copyright, 1902, by THE CENTURY Co. All rights reserved.

THE

GAZETTE'S" BOY.

BY HENRY HOLCOMB BENNETT.

Fairfield was a town of sixteen thousand people, and it supported, or allowed to exist, three daily papers, all issued in the afternoon, and each one the rival of the other two. If a "Gazette" reporter walked rapidly down the street, a representative of the "Herald" ran after him, and a News " reporter, on a bicycle, chased the other two. If the "Gazette " came out with a half-column on a fire, the 'Herald" doubled it, while the "News ran a double-column display, with alleged pictures of the building "before and after taking" fire. To get a "beat" or scoop" on the other sheets was the absorbing desire of every man and boy on each of the three papers. To achieve this no effort was too great; and no one, from the proprietor to pressman, was more anxious to "work a scoop" than was Jimmy Burns, now doing a month's trial on the Gazette."

Did you ever hear such luck?" almost shouted the city editor as he hung up the telephone-receiver with a vicious jerk and came back to his desk, giving a kick to a wastebasket which scattered its contents on the already littered floor. "Here's a big wreck on the C. & N.," he went on, "and no one to send after it. Big smash out at the cut; freight and passenger-a head-end collision. They 've telegraphed back for surgeons. wrecking-train goes in fifteen minutes-and no one to send!"

"How do I know? Skirmishing around uptown somewhere. The sheet 's full, more than 'up' now, and so they 're taking it easy. Great Scott! Did you ever hear such luck? Big smash-two hours to press-time-no town near there—and no one to send!" McIntyre pounded the desk with his fist.

"Send me, Mr. McIntyre. Let me go."

The city editor turned in astonishment. There, at his elbow, stood Jimmy, his steady gray eyes sparkling with excitement and his face aglow.

"Send you! What do you know about handling a big thing? A kid of eighteen! Your line 's church socials. This is a bad wreck."

"Yes, I know," said Jimmy; "but the other fellows are not here, and I am. And father used to be on the road, sir. I know it from one end to the other, and every man on it, almost. I'm better than nobody."

"That's so," assented McIntyre. "Your
father was an engineer, was n't he?
you'll have to go. You'll have to run, too,
or you'll not catch the wrecking-train; and
that's the only way to get to the wreck in time.
Sure you know what to get?"

McIntyre began telling him what facts to
ascertain while Jimmy hurriedly got into his
coat, snatched up a pad of paper, and ran for
the door, with the city editor's admonitions
following him as he went downstairs in three
jumps. He broke into a keen run as soon as
he was on the street.

The wrecking-train was soon whirling along toward the scene of the disaster. The exhaust of the engine sounded like the roll of a heavy The drum, and the red-hot cinders from the stack flew in a stream far behind the train. In one corner of the caboose, which was the rear car, a group of surgeons sat, with instrument-cases and rolls of bandages on the long seat beside them. The division superintendent, a telegraph-operator, and half a dozen other rail

"Where's Burke, and Thompson, and Stevens?" asked the advertising man, who stood near the desk, with an unkin. ly grin at the wrathful helplessness of the city editor.