t; I've been up and
made one, ma'am, and, by your leave, I'll put it on the poor little
fellow."

Mary could not speak, but she signed her grateful assent.

It began to smart while they still kept silence; and he looked up to his
mother as if seeking courage from her looks to bear the stinging pain;
but she was softly crying, to see him suffer, and her want of courage
reacted upon him, and he began to sob aloud. Instantly Mrs. Jenkins's
apron was up, hiding her face: "Peep-bo, baby," said she, as merrily
as she could. His little face brightened, and his mother having once
got the cue, the two women kept the little fellow amused, until his
plaister had taken effect.

"He's better,--oh, Mrs. Jenkins, look at his eyes! how different! And he
breathes quite softly----"

As Mary spoke thus, the doctor entered. He examined his patient. Baby
was really better.

"It has been a sharp attack, but the remedies you have applied have been
worth all the Pharmacopoeia an hour later.--I shall send a powder," &c.
&c.

Mrs. Jenkins stayed to hear this opinion; and (her heart wonderfully
more easy) was going to leave the room, when Mary seized her hand and
kissed it; she could not speak her gratitude.

Mrs. Jenkins looked affronted and awkward, and as if she must go
upstairs and wash her hand directly.

But, in spite of these sour looks, she came softly down an hour or so
afterwards to see how baby was.

The little gentleman slept well after the fright he had given his
friends; and on Christmas morning, when Mary awoke and looked at the
sweet little pale face lying on her arm, she could hardly realize the
danger he had been in.

When she came down (later than usual), she found the household in a
commotion. What do you think had happened? Why, pussy had been a traitor
to his best friend, and eaten up some of Mr. Jenkins's own especial
sausages; and gnawed and tumbled the rest so, that they were not fit to
be eaten! There were no bounds to that cat's appetite! he would have
eaten his own father if he had been tender enough. And now Mrs. Jenkins
stormed and cried--"Hang the cat!"

Christmas Day, too! and all the shops shut! "What was turkey without
sausages?" gruffly asked Mr. Jenkins.

"Oh, Jem!" whispered Mary, "hearken what a piece of work he's making
about sausages,--I should like to take Mrs. Jenkins up some of mother's;
they're twice as good as bought sausages."

"I see no objection, my dear. Sausages do not involve in