rom auction were lodged; her father had
been the village doctor. All the medical works had been sold, and many
other volumes besides, but among those remaining was an old
encyclopaedia which had proved to Polly a mine of information on many
subjects. As she took down the third volume, she heard a portentous
_Meaouw!_ and there, outside the window, stood Mufty, the grey cat,
rubbing himself against the frosty pane. Polly opened the window and
Mufty sprang in, bringing a puff of frosty air in his wake. Without so
much as a word of thanks he walked over to the stove. Finding it,
however, cold, as only an empty air-tight stove can be cold, he
strolled, with a disengaged air, beneath which lurked a very distinct
intention, toward the only warm object in the room, namely, Polly in
her woollen gown. She had the volume open on the table before her, and
was deep in its perusal, murmuring as she read.

"Appears to have committed its ravages from the earliest time," Polly
read, "and its distribution is probably universal, though far from
equal."

At this point Mufty lifted himself lightly in the air, after the
manner peculiar to cats, and landed in Polly's lap. After switching
his tail across her eyes once or twice, and rubbing himself against
the book in rather a disturbing way, he at last settled down, and
began purring vigorously in token of satisfaction. The room was very
cold, and Polly, without interrupting her reading, was glad to bury
her hands in the thick fur. Presently the colour in her cheeks grew
brighter and her breath came quicker. There _was_ a way, after all!
People had been saved, people a good deal sicker than Dan,--saved by
a change of climate. What could be simpler? Just to pick Dan up and
carry him off! And such fun, too!

"Mufty," she whispered, excitedly, "Mufty, what should you say to Dan
and me going away and never coming back again?"

"_Brrrrr, brrrrr_," quoth Mufty.

"I knew you would approve! You know how necessary it is, and you think
it best to do it; don't you, Mufty?"

"_Brrrr, brrrrrrrrrr_," quoth Mufty, again.

"O Mufty, what a darling you are, to approve! And there isn't really
any one's opinion that I care more about!"

She got up and went to the window, while Mufty, not to be dislodged,
hastily established himself across her shoulder, his fore paws well
down her back, his tail contentedly waving before her eyes. The
picture which he thus turned his back upon was a wintry one.

"Col