A boy once dared me to eat a bulb.

Dogs are very industrious and fond of gardening. Pincher is always
planting bones, but they never grow up. There couldn't be a bone tree.
I think this is what makes him bark so unhappily at night. He has never
tried planting dog-biscuit, but he is fonder of bones, and perhaps he
wants to be quite sure about them first.

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SAM REDFERN, OR THE BUSHRANGER'S BURIAL

By Dicky

CHAPTER IV AND LAST

This would have been a jolly good story if they had let me finish it at
the beginning of the paper as I wanted to. But now I have forgotten how
I meant it to end, and I have lost my book about Red Indians, and all my
Boys of England have been sneaked. The girls say 'Good riddance!' so I
expect they did it. They want me just to put in which Annie married, but
I shan't, so they will never know.

We have now put everything we can think of into the paper. It takes a
lot of thinking about. I don't know how grown-ups manage to write all
they do. It must make their heads ache, especially lesson books.

Albert-next-door only wrote one chapter of the serial story, but he
could have done some more if he had wanted to. He could not write out
any of the things because he cannot spell. He says he can, but it takes
him such a long time he might just as well not be able. There are one