ound a
corner of the barn, he came suddenly upon the old rooster, who
bristled up and showed fight. Bitters turned, and ran for dear life,
as hard as he could go, and never has been seen or heard from, from
that day to this, much to the boys' regret.

F. E. S.

[Illustration: DOG STEPHEN.]

FRED AND DOG STEPHEN.

"Now, just one good cuddle," said little six-year-old Freddie, "and
then I'll be ready for school;" and he curled himself up like a young
Turk in his mother's lap, and nestled there in a very enjoyable way.

She was sitting by the dining-room window; it was open, and a pitcher
of wild phlox and pink-and-white wake-robins stood in it. While they
sat there they saw Uncle Rube, who lives over on the hillside, coming
along the crooked path with a basket on his arm. His head was down,
and he was thinking so intently that he did not hear the steps behind
him of his young dog, Stephen.

Now, Rube means to make the best dog in the world of Stephen--the
playful little puppy!--and he never permits him to follow him anywhere
unless by special invitation. About once a week he will say to him,
"Stevie, would you like to go to your grandfather's with me? Come on,
then;" and here they will come, the puppy so glad that his gait is
more awkward than ever, his fat body, twisted out of all shape,
wriggling along, while his tail will flap about in every direction and
his ears look like wilted cabbage-leaves.

"He doesn't know Stevie is behind him, does he, ma? and now let's
watch and see what they will both do when they find out." So they
snugged down by the window and tittered and watched and anticipated
rare fun.

Uncle Rube was whispering to himself and nodding his head and making
gesticulations with his open hand, while Stephen trotted with his
little soft, careful feet behind him, smelling of the ground, and
thinking green grass with the dew sparkling on it was just made
purposely for dogs to admire.

Just as Rube came to the big gate and stopped to unlatch it he heard a
little whiffy breathing behind him, and then he looked and saw
Stephen. He was very much surprised; but as he never scolded the dog,
he simply said, in a very earnest way, "Steve, I am astonished! You go
right back home immediately. You're a great boy, indeed, to sneak
along without ever being invited! I didn't want you, sir, or I'd have
told you so. Now go right back again."

Oh, it wa