do not like to try it, for raw egg
is not good.

The old gray rat was wise too; but as for the poor old cook she does
not know, from that day to this, who took all her nice eggs. If I were
you, I'd go and tell her it was the old gray rat.

When you go, won't you take me with you, dear pet? We will peep in
the hole, and try to see the old rat and his wife and his nine boys.

That is all this time; so, good-by.

POOR WILL,

WHO WAS SHOT IN THE WAR.

It is a fine warm day in June. Out of the town the air is soft and
pure. Bird and bee flit from tree to tree, from blue-bell to rose,
till at sun-set they hie away to nest and hive.

Bell and Lou were at play in a nice room in a home out of the town.
They came to this dear home each year when it grew warm. Bell was hard
at work with some bits of wood. "See, Lou," she said, "see my log
hut; when it is done, your doll Fan can come and live in it."

"Oh! do not let it fall, Bell, for poor Fan is sick. She has got fits
in her ear and all her ten toes. I have just put her in bed. Put your
arm in the bed, my pet," she said to the doll in a kind tone; "you
will get cold; and here, take this blue pill, dear. Do not make
such a face. Poor soul! _so_ sick! Has my pet got fits? So she has! O
my!" So she gave Fan a kind pat, and then went with a soft step to
look out at the door.

[Illustration: "Oh! do not let it fall, Bell, for poor Fan is
sick."--P. 98.]

Soon she ran back and said: "O Bell! do come here! Come and look at
the poor old man at the door. Why, I do not know how it is, but I can
see but one arm. O dear! if he has but one, how sad it is! Come, look!"

Bell laid down her bits of wood, tho' her log hut was 'most done, and
ran with Lou.

The out-side door had not been shut, for it was such a warm day. The
soft west wind blew in, and the sun lay hot on the wide door-step.

"Come here, poor man," said Bell, "come to Lou and me; we want to talk
to you."

He came with a slow, sad step. His face was thin and pale, his eyes
were dim, and the long gray hair that fell on each side, made him look
so sad! But it was a kind, good face, and Lou and Bell did not fear
to call him to them.

"Have you been to the war?" said Lou.

"Yes, miss."

"Did you lose your arm in the war?"

"Yes, it was shot off; but, O miss! I do not mind my arm. It is my boy,
my dear Will, I want back, my own dear son. Oh! why did I let him go?"

"Why did you?" said Bell, "you did not