ng living eaglet, where he was
received with loud shouts of joy and congratulations.

VIII. WHAT FRESH NEWS THE PARLOR-CAT HAD TO TELL

"There is what you asked for," said Rudy, as he entered the
miller's house at Bex, and placed on the floor a large basket. He
removed the lid as he spoke, and a pair of yellow eyes, encircled by a
black ring, stared forth with a wild, fiery glance, that seemed
ready to burn and destroy all that came in its way. Its short,
strong beak was open, ready to bite, and on its red throat were
short feathers, like stubble.

"The young eaglet!" cried the miller.

Babette screamed, and started back, while her eyes wandered from
Rudy to the bird in astonishment.

"You are not to be discouraged by difficulties, I see," said the
miller.

"And you will keep your word," replied Rudy. "Each has his own
characteristic, whether it is honor or courage."

"But how is it you did not break your neck?" asked the miller.

"Because I held fast," answered Rudy; "and I mean to hold fast
to Babette."

"You must get her first," said the miller, laughing; and Babette
thought this a very good sign.

"We must take the bird out of the basket," said she. "It is
getting into a rage; how its eyes glare. How did you manage to conquer
it?"

Then Rudy had to describe his adventure, and the miller's eyes
opened wide as he listened.

"With your courage and your good fortune you might win three
wives," said the miller.

"Oh, thank you," cried Rudy.

"But you have not won Babette yet," said the miller, slapping
the young Alpine hunter on the shoulder playfully.

"Have you heard the fresh news at the mill?" asked the
parlor-cat of the kitchen-cat. "Rudy has brought us the young eagle,
and he is to take Babette in exchange. They kissed each other in the
presence of the old man, which is as good as an engagement. He was
quite civil about it; drew in his claws, and took his afternoon nap,
so that the two were left to sit and wag their tails as much as they
pleased. They have so much to talk about that it will not be
finished till Christmas." Neither was it finished till Christmas.

The wind whirled the faded, fallen leaves; the snow drifted in the
valleys, as well as upon the mountains, and the Ice Maiden sat in
the stately palace which, in winter time, she generally occupied.
The perpendicular rocks were covered with slippery ice, and where in
summer the stream from the rocks had left a watery veil, icicles