It\'s queer that girls are so dreadfully afraid of rats and mice. Men are never afraid of them, and I shouldn\'t mind if there were mornamillion mice in my bedroom every night.

Mr. Travers told Sue and me a terrible story one day about a woman that was walking through a lonely field, when she suddenly saw a field-mouse right in front of her. She was a brave woman; so after she had said, "Oh my! save me, somebody!" she determined to save herself if she could, for there was nobody within miles of her. There was a tree not very far off, and she had just time to climb up the tree and seat herself in the branches, when the mouse reached its foot. There that animal stayed for six days and nights, squeaking in a way that made the woman\'s blood run cold, and waiting for her to come down. On the seventh day, when she was nearly exhausted, a man with a gun came along, and shot the mouse, and saved her life. I don\'t believe this story, and I told Mr. Travers[Pg 112] so; for a woman couldn\'t climb a tree, and even if she could, what would hinder the mouse from climbing after her?

Sue has a new young man, who comes every Monday and Wednesday night. One day he said, "Jimmy, if you\'ll get me a lock of your sister\'s hair, I\'ll give you a nice dog." I told him he was awfully kind, but I didn\'t think it would be honest for me to take Sue\'s best hair, but that I\'d try to get him some of her every-day hair. And he said, "What on earth do you mean, Jimmy?" And I said that Sue had got some new back hair a little while ago, for I was with her when she bought it, and I knew she wouldn\'t like me to take any of that. So he said it was no matter, and[Pg 113] he\'d give me the dog anyway.

I told Sue afterwards all about it, just to show her how honest I was, and instead of telling me I was a good boy, she said, "Oh you little torment g\'way and never let me see you again," and threw herself down on the sofa and howled dreadfully, and mother came and said, "Jimmy, if you want to kill your dear sister, you can just keep on doing as you do." Such is the gratitude of grown-up folks.

Mr. Withers—that\'s the new young man—brought the dog, as he said he would. He\'s a beautiful Scotch terrier, and he said he would kill rats like anything, and was two years old, and had had the distemper; that is, Mr. Withers[Pg 114] said the dog would kill rats, and of course Mr. Withers himself never had............