the enclosed captive until it was no larger than the egg of the great bird we have often heard of but

never seen.

And now the Church-grim Goat was harmless and helpless. For the prison he was shut up in so closely and crampingly was nothing else than the mysterious prison framed by the weird craft and skill of the Dwarfs of the Round Hill in Fryup for the confinement of the Fairy Princess, and which, although it had never been needed since the Staff had been devised and so deftly fashioned, had been most carefully preserved among the other precious, or mystical, or curious trophies won by the proof of Sir Jack's wisdom, bravery, and prowess.

But what was to be done with the captive? For surely that was a question of no little moment and importance.

That too had, however, been duly considered, and was already ordained; and the next thing was to see that the plan ordained was duly and fittingly fulfilled. But for its execution the united force of all the Goathland men who were present was as requisite as were their concurrence and co-operation in the toilsome digging of the Killing Pits. It was safe for them now to issue forth from the pits in which they had been concealed during the actual struggle, and the thing they had to do, was to lower the enchained Goat in its magically fashioned prison down into the abyss-like dark passage, communicat

It might be

ing with the Castle, as you remember. thought, at first sight, 'Well, there could not be much difficulty about that. A thing no bigger than the egg of a big fowl could easily be handled and dealt with surely!'

But that is our mistake: for when the time came to lift it and transfer it from the place where it lay to the sort of sling in which it was to be lowered down, it was more than the strength of the two strongest men there could do, even to stir it! So small that only two men could touch it at the same time; and yet so heavy that it seemed to be built into the foundations of the world!

But even this had been foreseen and provided for by Sir Jack and his knowful associates. The black wain looming large in the dusk and with its waving plumes, when stripped of them was presently and easily brought up and fitted with two long bands such that it might be slung and lowered into the dark chasm, these bands being too strong to be broken, for they were made of thread that had been spun by the Spinner, and on purpose for such use. Still there was the ponderous weight to be thought of, and how was that to be overcome?

But there was a remedy for that also: for the moment the steel point of Sir Jack's Staff was inserted beneath it, and lever-like pressure applied, the weight began to fail and the reluctant object was laid on the wain. And then it was lowered down

in the sling, all holding on to the bands and giving all their strength to the labour. The bands did not fail, and the last danger was surmounted; for, had they tried to roll the oppressive weight down the hole, or had their hands slipped, or their hearts failed the men who held them, so that a fall ensued, the Goat might have obtained his freedom again, and then all would have been ruined. But all held firm,

and all was well.

For, once at the bottom of the shaft, the mysterious burden was borne to the dread treasure-chamber I told you of, and consigned to the watchful care of the awesome guardian of the hoard. And I think you know already from the story that was told to me about the matter whether he was likely to suffer any mortal being ever to interfere for its removal.

That Sir Jack's fame grew no less after such an achievement as this you don't need me to tell you; nor yet that the elves, and others of the like nature, who had helped in the winning of the victory, had been willing allies with the Princess and her valiant champion, and needed no acknowledgments: nor yet that the Spinner got her release, and has never been seen spinning since, or heard to give utterance to so much as a single sob or sigh.

OME people know that there is a place on

SOM

the high ridge between Great Fryup and Glaisdale called 'The Hart Leap,' but there are a very great many more who do not. And quite likely some of those who do know about it, have never been there to see it, or perhaps made much inquiry concerning it, and yet might like to know something about it. So I will tell you a little of its history.

What I will say first is that the place which has had that name given to it is not very far from a roadway leading up from one part of Glaisdale towards Rosedale and that neighbourhood. Next, it lies not very far from a line of butts built up for grouse-shooting purposes, and not much further from a large group of pits in the surface of the

moor, like the Killing Pits at Goathland, only not quite so much in rows, and numbering a good many more. Furthermore, it is marked by two very old and time-worn stones, standing up not very high above the surface, but still very visible when any one is looking carefully about for them.

Well, these two stones are just forty-two feet, or fourteen yards, distant from one another, and the old story about them-and there was almost sure to be an old story about two such stones so placed is that a hart, not a mere stag only, but a 'hart,' being very hard pressed in the chase, at least by the deer-hounds in pursuit of it, made a leap of this extraordinary length in a last desperate and convulsive effort to escape.

But I never heard, nor could find any one to tell me, who the hunters were, or any particulars of the chase, nor how an exhausted animal found the strength necessary to accomplish a a leap leap so

marvellous.

To be sure the Hart of Hart-leap Well, sung of by the poet Wordsworth, seems to have done more marvellous things still, for he made three leaps, all very strange for the length of them. But then there were 'nine roods of sheer descent,' the poet says—and we know very well that but a little impulse starts even a lifeless thing, such as a stone, bounding in a most wonderful way, when once it has been set rolling down a steep