before the unsuspecting little creature realized its danger, the
cat arched his back, gave a spring, and seized it. A moment later he
softly trotted out of the orchard with the poor bird in his mouth and
doubtless made a dainty dinner in the barn off our unfortunate comrade.
This incident cast a deep gloom over us, and our songs for many days
held a mournful note.

But while cats were unwelcome visitors from the great brick house, we
sometimes had others whom we were always glad to see. The two young
ladies of the family, together with their mother and little niece,
occasionally came out for a saunter under the trees, and it was very
delightful to listen to their merry chat. So affectionate toward each
other, so gentle and withal so bright and lively, they seemed to bring
a streak of sunshine with them whenever they came. Miss Dorothy, who
was tall and stately, seldom sat on the grassy tufts which rose like
little footstools at the base of each tree, but rambled about while
talking. This was perhaps because she disliked to rumple her
beautifully starched skirts. But Miss Katie--impetuous, dimple-cheeked
Katie, would fling herself down anywhere regardless of edged ruffles or
floating sash ribbons.

"For it is clean dirt," she laughingly said, when Miss Dorothy
playfully scolded her for it. "This kind of dirt is healthful, and it
isn't going to hurt me if a few dusty twigs or a bit of dried grass or
weeds should cling to my gown. You must remember, Sister Dorothy,
there are different kinds of dirt. I haven't any respect for grease
spots or for clothes soiled from wearing them too long. I don't like
that kind of dirt, but to get close to dear old mother earth, and have
a scent of her fresh soil once in a while is what I enjoy. It is
delightful. I like nature too well to stand on ceremony with her."

"You like butterflies too, don't you, aunty?" asked little Marian.

"To be sure I do, dear. I love all the pretty things that fly."

"And the birdies too?" asked the child.

"Yes, indeed; I love the birds the best of all."

"And the old cat was awful naughty when he caught the baby robin the
other day and ate it up. Wasn't he, aunty?"

"Yes. Tom is a cruel, bad, bad cat," responded Miss Katie, as she
squeezed Marian's little pink hand between her own palms. "That
naughty puss gets plenty to eat in the house and there are lots of nice
fat mice in the barn, and yet he slips slyly out to the orchard and
t