had a little. He made a small charge, as was of course only natural under the circumstances. But his politeness was the same, and quite impressed the children.

On they went again, the country looking fresher and greener than ever. After about another hour, the train began to slacken speed, and Great-heart told the children to collect their things together, for they had to change on to another line of rails, in order to reach the little place they were to stay a day or two at.

They got out and found themselves at a very busy place, a "Junction" (a great contrast to the drowsy old town it stood in, which only woke up once a year to let off a lot of silly fireworks). Trains were coming in on all sides to take up or set down people. If anyone went wrong it certainly was not through the fault of the porters. They were persistent in their shouts as to what the travellers had to do, and called out long strings of names, which was quite bewildering until you got used to them. There was also a huge board with the name of this particular place upon it, and lots of others you had to change to get at, the one the children journeyed to included. It seemed they would have to wait some time before proceeding on again, so they got out quietly and

It

stood with a group of others, all laden with luggage, until the train they had alighted from should move off and enable them to cross over to the smaller one, which would presently take them off. What struck the children, however, as being terribly dangerous, was this, that before getting to the other side the line of rails had to be crossed on foot. It frightened them dreadfully; although, to pacify them, Great-heart assured them there was no danger, they could not be persuaded to walk across, so he had to carry them. seemed to them that the people whose business it was ought to be more careful of the lives of their passengers. Why was there no footbridge, as they had noticed at all the larger stations coming along? Surely it was worth the comparatively small outlay in money? The people who managed the railway would be sorry to kill any of their passengers, no doubt, but it certainly looked as if there would be an accident some day. These were the children's arguments. They asked Great-heart to explain the matter. He said it was one of those few abominable levelcrossings still to be found on some railways. He had wondered much why they were not done away with by force, that is by the gentlemen who met in the fine House down by the river the children

had seen, and where laws were framed for the good of the citizens. There were some things quite unaccountable in the world they visited; this was one of them. He much feared that until some warning had been brought personally home to the proper authorities, some accident of a serious character (although he earnestly hoped that the reform might be accomplished by less sad means), nothing would be done. He said that this carelessness of human life was very deplorable. His cmopanions most fully agreed with him.

The train which was to carry them along further was such a funny little one, only half-a-dozen carriages or so. Now it stood there without any engine at all, and was evidently in no hurry to move on. It seemed, although it was quite time for it to go, it had to wait for other trains to come in before it could do so. Great-heart had never known it start with punctuality yet, and he had travelled many, many times that way. This was puzzling to the little ones. They thought one of the first rules of travel ought to be to keep the trains moving at the most regular hours. If not, with much traffic, how could things go smoothly? Great-heart said the remark was perfectly true, and did credit to their perception, yet unfortunately it was a rule greatly neglected, and was generally, if not always,

the first cause of those grievous accidents there had of late been so many of. Of course it was impossible to keep such vast machinery going like clockwork; but a great deal more care was possible, and he regretted that often much neglect was shown in the matter, with which his pupils likewise fully agreed.

They took their seats as the carriages showed at last some signs of being filled up. Then the train crawled out of the station slowly; but it soon came back again and lingered a little longer; it seemed as if the engine were loth to leave the place it knew so well. Half-an-hour behind time they got fairly off, and sped along briskly down to that sea the children were so anxious to reach. They would pass the place where later on they were to embark in the steamer, and presently they got there. Not much to look at truly; they were disappointed. If that were the sea they did not think a great deal of it. It was stagnant, no motion at all, and dirty, more like where they came from; with a few vessels on it, certainly, but all quite quiet, no moving about and no sails up; one or two fine steamers with white funnels from which black smoke was issuing; but no flags, no gaiety at all! Great-heart soon re-assured them. What they saw was not the glorious open sea.

Though the water came from it, this was only a harbour, a refuge for the ships to rest at ease in, to discharge what they had on board, or take in other things and people comfortably. In a minute or two they would have a fine view of the real ocean, when they had moved out from the shadow of the dingy building, the hotel (a very melancholy looking one) of the place. But few people got out, as this was not the "tidal " train, so there was little delay. Then Great-heart bade the children close their eyes for a while, that what was in store might burst upon them in all its magnificence. This they did, waiting with great excitement until told to look again. When at length they did, what a sight was that! They seemed to have run down suddenly to the very edge of the water, and the little ones were quite startled to think how close they were to it without being hurt. Land seemed to have been altogether left behind, save for a glimpse on the right of a grand white cliff, from whose summit there sloped beautiful greensward with toy fortresses stuck about it. Nothing but the mighty ocean visible as far as the eye could reach: one vast expanse of water in blue-green loveliness. Dotted over its surface. ships small and large, with many white sails reflected, some close in land, others miles, miles