leaden soldiers marched to death. Not one faltered or hung back, from the splendid red and yellow captain to the small drummer who had lost his legs; all vanished in the flames and mingled in one common pool of melted lead.
"Now, Daisy!" called the high priest of Kitty-mouse, when his rich offerings had been consumed, to the great satisfaction of the children.
"My dear dollies, how can I let them go?" moaned Daisy, hugging the entire dozen with a face full of maternal woe.
"You must," commanded Demi; and with a farewell kiss to each, Daisy laid her blooming dolls upon the coals.
"Let me keep one, the dear blue thing, she is so sweet," besought the poor little mamma, clutching her last in despair.
"More! more!" growled an awful voice, and Demi cried, "that's the Kitty-mouse! she must have every one, quick, or she will scratch us."
In went the precious blue belle, flounces, rosy hat, and all, and nothing but a few black flakes remained of that bright band.
"Stand the houses and trees round, and let them catch themselves; it will be like a real fire then," said Demi, who liked variety even in his "sackerryfices."
Charmed by this suggestion, the children arranged the doomed village, laid a line of coals along the main street, and then sat down to watch the conflagration. It was somewhat slow to kindle owing to the paint, but at last one ambitious little cottage blazed up, fired a tree of the palm species, which fell on to the roof of a
