baby kitten; and she ran to and fro, crying, until, at
last, the lady followed her; and she led the way to the trunk.

"What can be the matter with this cat?" said the lady; and she took the
trunk key out of her pocket, put it in the lock, unlocked the trunk,
raised the top--and in jumped Mother Cat with such a bound that the
little black kitten waked up with a start.

[Illustration: The lady followed her; and she led the way to the trunk.]

"Purr, purr, my darling child," said Mrs. Tabby Gray, in great
excitement; "I have had a dreadful fright!" and before the black kitten
could ask one question she picked him up and started for the barn.

The sun was bright in the barnyard and the hens were still chattering
there; but the black kitten was glad to get back to the barn. His mother
was glad, too; for, as she nestled down in the hay with her three little
kittens, she told them that a barn was the best place after all to raise
children.

And she never afterwards changed her mind.

_FLEET WING AND SWEET VOICE_

MOTTO FOR THE MOTHER

_Make the home-coming sweet!
The gladness of going,
The pleasure of knowing
Will not be complete
Unless, at the ending,
The home-coming's sweet.

Make the home-coming sweet!
No fear of the straying,
Or dread of the staying
Of dear little feet,
If always you're making
The home-coming sweet_.

Mother and Father Pigeon lived with their two young pigeons in their
home, built high on a post in the king's barnyard. Every bright morning
they would fly away through the beautiful sunshine wherever they
pleased, but, when evening came, they were sure to come to the
pigeon-house again.

One evening, when they were talking together in their sweet, cooing way,
Mother Pigeon said:--

"We each have a story to tell, I know; so let each one take his turn,
and Father Pigeon begin."

Then Father Pigeon said:--

"To-day I have been down to the shining little stream that runs through
the wood. The green ferns grow on either side of it, and the water is
cool, cool, cool! for I dipped my feet into it, and wished that you all
were there."

"I know the stream," cooed Mother Pigeon. "It turns the wheels of the
mills as it hurries along, and is busy all day on its way to the river."

"To-day I have talked with the birds in the garden," said Sweet Voice,
one of the young pigeons, "the thrush, the blackbird, and bluebird, and
all. They sang