sounded hollow. He put his hand there and uttered this incantation impressively:

“What hasn’t come here, come! What’s here, stay here!”

Then he scraped away the dirt, and exposed a pine shingle. He took it up and disclosed a shapely little treasure-house whose bottom and sides were of shingles. In it lay a marble. Tom’s astonishment was bound-less! He scratched his head with a perplexed air, and said:

“Well, that beats anything!”

Then he tossed the marble away pettishly, and stood cogitating.

The truth was, that a superstition of his had failed, here, which he and all his comrades had always looked upon as infallible. If you buried a marble