nd John Henry chose
to call him Boneset. The name took in the household, and though Fannie
called him "Boney," Boneset was his real name. John Henry bought him a
collar, and Fannie would tie a beautiful scarlet ribbon on this, and
away they'd go together, down the road to the village post-office.
He'd look very sharply at the meadow-birds flitting over the stone
fences, and the yellow butterflies on the tall mullen stalks, as if he
would say,--"I'll get you any of those you'd like to have, my dear
mistress."

But Fannie would say, "Don't think of it, Boney; I would like to have
them, but it would be wicked to catch them you know." Pussy did not
want to give up the sport of hunting them, however, and Fannie would
have to take him right up, and carry him until they had passed them.

He had such lovely coaxing ways; he knew to a minute when it was lunch
time, and he had his in the kitchen, but he would steal up into the
dining-room, and pass round softly to Fannie's place, and pop up into
her lap--or, if she were standing up, he'd get upon the table and rub
his furry cheek against her shoulder, and shut one eye.

Then Fannie would turn round, and his comical appearance, sitting
there with his little pink tongue sticking out between his lips, would
make Fannie just jump up and down with laughing.

Of course, he wanted some of Fannie's lunch, and he always got it, and
this was the way he managed to get so fat and sleek.

One unfortunate time, Fannie was very sick; the room was darkened, and
the doctor came. All the pets were not allowed to come near the room.

It was, oh, so lonesome for Boney. No one petted him like his little
mistress, and they didn't put up with his tricks, or laugh at his
funny pranks.

The time went by heavily enough, he had not had on any of his ribbons,
and he would go and stay away from home for days together, and when he
came home just before dark, he had a wild look, as if he had been in
rough company.

On a lovely morning in June, Fannie was carried down stairs, to sit in
the bay window, in the sunshine, and the ivy hung down its fresh,
green leaves.

Boney saw her the first thing. His delight knew no bounds; he rubbed
his back against her chair, turned his head around in her robe as it
lay on the carpet, and jumped into her lap! And Fannie smoothed his
back with her little thin hand.

After a time he went away, and nobody thought any thing about him,
till dinner-time, when, what shou