stormy tears of bereavement. It mattered not to Aunt 'Ritta that my
foster-children had names to which they answered, that they would feed
from my hand, and hop on my shoulder, and run quacking, or squawking,
or piping, or chirping, at my heels across the yard, and follow me to
the field like dogs. When the day and the hour--always unexpected to
me--came, I "called and they answered not again," until, taught by
bitter experience, I "struck" petting tame and edible living things,
once and finally.

The miniature menagerie I then set up on my own account, and, as I shall
show, to the detriment of everything entered upon the rolls, was stocked
principally by the services of my colored contingent.

Among the first inmates--they all became patients in the long, or short
run--were two striped ground squirrels (chipmunks) who were caught in a
box with a falling door, and presented to me by Barratier. He lent me
the box to keep them in. I fed and watered them warily and successfully
for a couple of days by lifting the door an inch, having previously
rapped upon it to scare the prisoners to the other end, then slipping in
the dish of water and the nuts, sugar, or fruit that were the day's
rations. Supposing that kindness and comfortable quarters had tamed them
into appreciation of my services and intentions, I raised the door two
inches higher on the third day, and took a good look at the beauties
huddled trembling in their safe corner. Their bright eyes were alluring,
their quiescence was encouraging. I spoke to them in dulcet accents, and
advanced a friendly hand. They met it more than half-way, one leaping
upon my bare arm, running up to my shoulder, and, with one bound over my
head, regaining his lost freedom. I caught his less active brother by
the tail as he was sneaking under the door, and held him tight. In a
quarter-jiffy he whisked his little body around and dug his teeth into
my finger, and, as I still held on to his tail, incontinently shed the
skin of the same, leaving it in my grasp. The last I ever saw of him was
the flaunt of a gory, ghastly pennant, as the bearer vanished under a
heap of stones. I flung the bloody casing from me with abhorrence. Now I
can hope that another grew upon the denuded bones. Then I hoped it
would not. The insult was gross.

The immediate successor of the ingrates was a mouse bestowed upon me by
one of the stable hands. I named the waif "Caspar Hauser" forthwith,
being fresh from the