I have made a most astounding discovery. Walking down the street yesterday I saw a great placard on a wall announcing a lecture; subject, "The Yellow Peril." What did it mean? I thought I was the Yellow Pearl, and that nobody outside of the family knew it. But this was spelled p-e-r-i-l instead of P-e-a-r-l. What could it mean? I could go no farther, but returned at once to question grandmother.

"Grandmother!" I cried, entering her room, "what is the yellow peril?"

Dear grandmother's cheeks flushed, and she said, "My dear child, why bother yourself about that?"

"Why, grandmother, I thought when I overheard Aunt Gwendolin talk, that I was the Yellow Pearl; she called me such the first day I came," I said. "But on the placard it is spelled p-e-r-i-l. What does it mean?"

"I am sorry you saw it," said grandmother hesitatingly. "There is too much being said on that subject by a certain class of people—It is the world God loves," she added as if talking to herself, "not the United States, Great Britain, Germany; the yellow people are just as dear to God as we are. The gentle Christ looked widely over the world, shed tears for it, shed blood for it."

"What does the yellow peril mean, grandmother?" I repeated anxiously.

"The Mongolian races are more yellow than the Caucasian races," said grandmother, when forced to answer. "They are also more numerous, and s............