orris sadly. "That other dog,
didn't I told you how he didn't eat so much like Izzie, and she wouldn't
to leave me have him. That's a cinch."

"Oh! don't say that word, dear," cried Teacher. "And we can only try.
We'll do our very, very best."

This guilty secret had a very dampening effect upon the joy with which
Morris watched for his mother's recovery. Upon the day set for her
return, he was a miserable battle-field of love and duty. Early in the
morning Izzie had been transferred to Miss Bailey's yard. Rover was
chained to his house, Izzie was tied to the wall at a safe distance from
him, and they proceeded to make the day hideous for the whole
neighborhood.

Morris remained at home to greet his mother, received her encomiums,
cooked the dinner, and set out for afternoon school with a heavy heart
and a heavier conscience. Nothing had occurred in those first hours to
show any change in Mrs. Mowgelewsky's opinion of home pets; rather she
seemed, in contrast to the mild and sympathetic Miss Bailey, more than
ever dictatorial and dogmatic.

At a quarter after three, the gold fish having received perfunctory
attention, and the Board of Monitors being left again to do their worst,
unguarded, Morris and Teacher set out to prepare Mrs. Mowgelewsky's mind
for the adoption of Izzie. They found it very difficult. Mrs.
Mowgelewsky, restored of vision, was so hospitable, so festive in her
elephantine manner, so loquacious and so self-congratulatory, that it
was difficult to insert even the tiniest conversational wedge into the
structure of her monologue.

Finally Miss Bailey managed to catch her attention upon financial
matters. "You gave me," she said, "two dollars and ten cents, and Morris
has managed so beautifully that he has not used it all, and has five
cents to return to you. He's a very wonderful little boy, Mrs.
Mowgelewsky," she added, smiling at her favorite to give him courage.

"He iss a good boy," Mrs. Mowgelewsky admitted. "Don't you get lonesome
sometimes by yourself here, huh?"

"Well," said Miss Bailey, "he wasn't always alone."

"No?" queried the matron with a divided attention. She was looking for
her purse, in which she wished to stow Morris's surplus.

"No," said Teacher; "I was here once or twice. And then a little friend
of his----"

"Friend!" the mother repeated with a glare; "was friends here in mine
house?"

Miss Bailey began a purposely vague reply, but Mrs. Mowgelewsky was not
listenin