by, so the best thing for us to do is to leave the
cradle and climb down."

As soon as the passengers were once more upon the ground they demanded
their fare back, saying that they had paid for a trip to the moon, and
not for a fall into a willow tree.

"This doesn't seem quite fair to me," remarked the balloon man, looking
ruefully at his wrecked balloon. "I don't think I should give you back
more than half, for the first part of the journey was successful."

"You didn't keep to your bargain," cried Puss, stoutly; "and besides,
you endangered our lives. I don't want to pay to go up in the air a
little way and then be hurled down into a willow tree; it takes all the
niceness out of the way up and makes the way down too dangerous."

So the balloon man paid back the money and turned away. "Why don't you
take the basket car with you?" asked Puss, Junior.

"It's too big to carry," replied the balloon man. "I'll come around for
it to-morrow with a horse and wagon."

Pretty soon all the passengers had gone, leaving Puss alone under the
willow tree. All of a sudden the baby began to cry, so Puss sang softly:

"Hush-a-by, baby, upon the tree top,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock."

And then the baby stopped crying, so Puss turned away and entered the
old mill that stood in the shade of the old willow tree.

THE ROCK-A-BY BABY

"WELCOME, Sir Cat," said the dusty miller. "Sit down and tell me the
news." But just then a sweet voice commenced to sing:

Down in the village all the long day
Mother's been toiling the hours away;
While up in the tree-top beneath the blue sky
Baby has rocked to the wind's lullaby.

Waiting is over, my sweet little one,
Mother is here for her own blue-eyed son.
Home we will go, and baby shall rest,
All the night through on mother's warm breast.

"Dearie me," suddenly exclaimed the dusty miller, "how tired she looks,"
and he walked to the door.

"Let me carry the cradle," said Puss, and lifting it on his shoulder,
followed the grateful little woman down the road.

When they reached the house Puss was tired, for the cradle was heavy,
and had nearly slipped off his shoulder two or three times, and once,
when the baby caught hold of it, Puss nearly stumbled.

"Come and rest," said the baby's mother, opening the little wicket gate
in the white fence. Puss looked up at the pr