On a yellow, dreamy day of late autumn, while the sergeant was strolling through the Fens, he came suddenly upon little Virgie Manning and her nurse.

“Hello, little miss!” said the sergeant. “I haven’t seen you for a long time; but where did you get those flowers? They look like some of the park golden-rod.”

“Yes,” said Virgie in her half-lisping voice; “they are your flowers, Mr. Policeman.”

“But you musn’t pick the park flowers,” said the sergeant.

“And sure I told her that myself,” said Bridget. “Now, missy, you see what happens to naughty girls. Are you going to take her to prison, Mr. Officer?”

Virgie laughed gleefully. She was not at all afraid of the sergeant.

[Pg 129]

“No, not this time,” he said.

“Mr. Policeman,” said Virgie, “one time long ago weren’t you a weeny boy?”

“Yes, I was.”

“Did you love the pretty flowerses?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And you picked them,” said Virgie, “and naughty big men scolded you?”

“No, they didn’t; I lived in the country.”

“Then, you mustn’t scold me,” said Virgie gayly. “O Bridget! there is a big, big fly with blue wingses. You stand still like a mousie while I catch it, ’cause if you runned you might starkle it;” and she darted away.

“And is the French boy still making his home with you, sir?” asked Bridget curiously.

“Yes; he is still with us.”

“And he doesn’t hear from his bad old uncle in France, Virtue Ann tells me.”

“No; he hasn’t as yet,” said the sergeant.

“And it’s a great comfort to Virtue Ann that you’ve shielded him,” continued Bridget, “otherwise she’d have cold comfort in the[Pg 130] good place she’s found for herself. ‘Virtue Ann,’ said I, ‘if you despise your luck this time, you’ll be guilty of the sin of onprudency. Make seven crosses, and let the boy go, and you’ll find you’re in the right of it.’”

“The boy is always glad to see her,” said the sergeant absently. “Hello, Boozy, what’s the matter?”

“And sure that’s a queer cat,” said Bridget, eyeing the black-and-white animal who was mewing excitedly, and walking up and down at a little distance from them.

“He wants to show me something, and badly too,” said the sergeant, “or he wouldn’t come so near a woman. Go on, Boozy, I’ll follow.”

At this moment little Virgie came running up crying, “The naughty fly flewed away. He wouldn’t play wif me. Oh! there’s the sweet pussy;” and she precipitated herself toward Boozy.

The king was in great distress. He sprang nimbly from side to side, waving his tail angrily in the air as he tried to elude the[Pg 131] little girl’s caresses, and at the same time keep the attention of the sergeant fixed on himself.

“I understand you, Boozy,” said the sergeant. “Walk on, and I’ll come. Look here, little girl, you stop chasing him, will you, and take my hand? We’ll see what he’s leading us to.”

“Perhaps he has some little kittens to show us,” suggested Virgie.

“No; the king isn’t fond of kittens. Probably it’s a mole or a mouse he’s caught, or perhaps his chum is in trouble. One day he was caught in a wire fence, and Boozy came for me to set him free. Can you trot along a little faster, he seems to be in a hurry?”

“Yes,” said the child, hopping and skipping along by his side, her blue eyes wandering to and fro across the broad avenue. “Where’s Eugene?” she asked suddenly, “Virgie hasn’t seen him for lots and lots of time.”

“He’s in the park somewhere,” said the sergeant. “He spends a great deal of time here. He has taken a great fancy to Boozy,[Pg 132] and sits for hours watching him. I guess the cat teaches him a good many lessons.”

“The king is a good pussy,” remarked Virgie sagely.

“He is not perfect, but he is about as good as a cat can be,” said her companion.

Virgie stopped to pick up some shining pebbles from the ground, but the sergeant hurried her on. “Make haste, little girl, if you want to come with me. There’s something queer about the king’s actions. See how he is running.”

Virgie trotted along beside him again, and her nurse quickened her footsteps so that she might keep up with the two figures ahead of her.

“Good gracious!” exclaimed the sergeant, suddenly dropping the child’s hand, and scrambling down a slope beside them; “just look at that boy.”

“The boy! and sure there’s no boy to be seen,” said Bridget, who had heard his exclamation, and paused in surprise at the top of the little hill, and looked about her.

[Pg 133]

Just below them was a marshy, sedgy pond. A few ducks were dabbling in the mud at one end of it, and at the other end something brown and indistinct was moving in a slow and confused way among the rushes.

“I guess it’s Eugene,” cried little Virgie, tearfully clasping her tiny hands. “I guess he runned and frowed hisself in the water.”

“Hush, lovie,” said her nurse, putting her arm around her. “There isn’t much water here, it’s mostly mud, nor any boy for that matter. Watch and see what the quare thing is.”

The indistinct figure kept going to and fro, slightly disturbing the rushes, while the sergeant rushed back and forth over the encircling firm ground as if looking for something.

“And sure he’s crazy,” muttered Bridget. Then she tried to hush Virgie, who was crying apprehensively.

&ldqu............