terms with the formidable-looking beast, her terror gave way to shrill wrath. She hated household pets of every kind, though the children, like their father, were somewhat recklessly addicted to them.
"What d'you mean," she demanded, "bringing a great big dirty brute like that home with you, to mess up the house and jest make more work for me? Jest like yer father! No more consideration!"
But Mishi already had his head inside the kitchen door, sniffing at the savory smells.
"Git out, you brute!" screamed Mrs. Atkinson, retreating behind the door and making a pass at the purring intruder with her broom.
The children dragged the happy and unresisting animal away from the door. "All right, Mother. We'll tie him up in the cow-shed till Daddy comes home. Don't be frightened."
They got a piece of clothesline, of which there is apt to be plenty on a backwoods farm, and they tied up the puzzled Mishi—as they thought securely—in a corner of the warm, shadowy barn, with plenty of sweet-smelling hay to lie on. Then, having fondled him, and tried to assure him that they would be back "right away" with food, they ran off, leaving the barn door open lest he should feel lonely.
For a minute or two Mishi lay quite still, lis-
