LOYAL LITTLE LANCE-BEARERS 
Early one morning, Uncle John startled the 
household by a loud, merrily whistled reveille, 
putting such great emphasis on the “ Roll out! 
R -oo-ll out! ” that the children knew full well he 
had something of unusual interest to show them, 
and came on the run, scrambling into necessary 
garments like firemen en route under urgent 
summons. 
It was a breathless group that soon stood as¬ 
sembled on the great screened porch, which was 
the family living-room in summer, and stared in 
dubious, unbounded amazement at what Uncle 
John introduced as “ the only real live music box 
and panorama in existence.” It was being estab¬ 
lished in plain view just outside against the ivy- 
clad stone wall of the well house, and it was no 
more nor less than a common wooden box, about 
twelve by eighteen inches, with a glass top, and a 
small round hole bored in one end. Inside was 
something that greatly resembled a mouse nest, 
and it is safe to say that Tommy was the only one 
of the witnesses who understood what was doing 
in the least, when Uncle John produced a corked 
bottle from his pocket, and, lifting the lid of the 
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