on being hovered!

[Illustration]

As time passed the adopted child became independent and needed no further
guardianship, yet the friendliest relations existed between the two. Even
after the chicken was grown and had chickens of her own they seldom met in
their promenades about the place that Juno did not pause to rub her head
affectionately against the neck of the orphan that she had brought up.

* * * * *

Juno was about a year older, I think, when there was a death in her
family. The one little kitten that she loved with all her mother heart
died and left her desolate. It was a very sad occasion, I remember, but we
had a great funeral. We dug the grave at the end of the garden. Johnny's
express wagon was the hearse, and Johnny drew it, and was very serious
indeed. We borrowed Mrs. Martin's baby carriage, and that was the mourning
coach. Juno rode in it, with Ned and Gimps walking one on each side and
holding her in. I pushed the coach, while a long procession of the
neighbors' children came behind, crying with all their might. We sung a
hymn at the grave, and did everything we could to soothe Juno's grief.

But Juno would not be reconciled. She drooped around and mewed so
pitifully for several days that we could not endure it; so we went to a
neighbor's cat that had more kittens than she needed, and borrowed one of
them for Juno. Dear me, how proud she was of it, and how she took it in
her arms and cuddled it up close to her! The whole family came out to look
at her, and the Colonel said:

"And this is only a cat! What great tenderness there should be in the
human heart when a poor little animal can be like this!"

And the next day Uncle Dick, who was a great favorite with all of us, rode
up to the fence and shouted cheerily:

"Hello, boys! Here is a present for you. I killed a mother fox at the
mouth of her hole, and here is one of her babies."

And he reached down into his pocket and drew out a baby fox about as large
as an interrogation point, but the funniest and sharpest little thing you
ever saw, though its eyes were not open yet.

With one accord we shouted:

"There's a baby for Juno!" and away we ran with it and laid it beside the
new kitten.

Juno arose and looked the little stranger over with evident anxiety. She
seemed to be troubled with some haunting suspicion that this was not an
orthodox cat. The bushy red tail was a special subject of curiosity. She
touc