"A story is told about a meteor that fell on a farm some time ago. The landlord said it belonged to him, for when he rented the farm to the tenant he claimed all minerals and metals found in the ground.
"'But it was not on the farm when the lease was made out,' said the tenant.
"'Then I claim it as flying game,' replied the landlord angrily.
"'But it has neither wings nor feathers, so I lay claim to it as ground game,' said the tenant in reply.
"While the dispute was going on the custom-house officers seized the meteorite, because, as they said, it had come into the country without paying duty."
A METEOR.
"That is not a true story, is it?" asked Harry, laughing.
"Scarcely," replied Mary; "but it was a good joke on the landlord. And now we come to the very smallest members of the family of Giant Sun. I mean the shooting stars."
"Those bright little flying stars we can see at night?" asked Harry.