very
high collar, around which was tied a green cravat which matched the
feathers of his tail.

"Quack, quack!" said Doctor Drake. "What do you want?"

"I don't know, Doctor," answered Puss, Junior. "I feel far from well; in
fact, I think I'm going to be very ill."

"Don't worry," replied Doctor Drake; "that's what we doctors are looking
for--sick people. I can cure you, never fear."

"Thank you," said Puss, Junior.

[Illustration]

"Don't thank me yet," answered Doctor Drake; "wait till you're
cured--then pay me."

"That will I gladly do," replied Puss, Junior; "only make me feel like
myself again."

"I think," said Doctor Drake, after looking at Puss, Junior's, tongue,
"you had better give up horseback riding; it's bad for you."

"Oh, dear!" sighed poor Puss, Junior. "What shall I do with my Good Gray
Horse?"

"Sell him to me," replied Doctor Drake. "I'm in need of a horse. My
practice is growing so large I find it difficult to make my calls."

"Yes, I suppose you do," said Puss. "Your feet are not for walking, but
for swimming."

"Right you are," assented the doctor. "Of course, some of my patients
live in the pond; but, then, again, a lot of them don't. Take these
pills." And the famous duck doctor handed Puss, Junior, a little round
box. "One every hour; they'll soon fix you up, all right. Now, how much
do you want for your horse?"

Puss, Junior, scratched his head. "What will you give?" he asked,
tearfully.

"Twenty-five pounds," replied the doctor.

"Very well," said Puss. "The horse is yours. Give me my money and I will
journey along on foot, though it goes hard with me to part with my
faithful steed." Then, tucking the box of pills in his pocket, Puss
proceeded on his journey.

"NO BIGGER THAN MY THUMB"

HAVING traveled so long on horseback, Puss, Junior, found it hard to
resume his journey on foot. However, he manfully set out once more. The
pills Doctor Drake had given him made him feel quite frisky, and he ran
along at a good rate. In fact, he felt that perhaps he might just as
well have kept his Good Gray Horse and taken the chance of becoming
really ill. But it was too late now; the bargain had been made and he
must make the best of it. So on he jogged, whistling a merry tune to
help along his tired feet.

By and by he came to a pretty cottage and, entering the front gate,
looked in through the window. At a table sat a woman, singing:

"I had a little husband, no bigger