han he was. Harry and his friends endeavored to drive the dogs away
from the tree, but it was of no use. Even kicks and blows only made them
bark the more. Directly out rushed Mr. Truly Matthews, as angry as he
could be. He shouted and scolded at the boys for setting their dogs on
his cat, and then he kicked the dogs out of his yard in less time than
you could count seventy-two. He was very angry, indeed, and talked about
the shocking conduct of the boys to everybody in the village. He would
listen to no explanations or excuses.

Harry was extremely sorry that Mr. Matthews was so incensed against him,
especially as he knew there was no cause for it, and he was talking
about it to Kate one day, when she exclaimed:

"I'll tell you what will be sure to pacify Mr. Matthews, Harry. He has
a lot of little pigs that he wants to sell. Just you go and buy one of
them, and see if he isn't as good-natured as ever, when he sees your
money."

Harry took the advice. He had a couple of dollars, and with them he
bought a little pig, the smallest of the lot; and Mr. Matthews, who was
very much afraid he could not find purchasers for all his pigs, was as
completely pacified as Kate thought he would be.

Harry took his property home, and all through the summer and fall the
little pig ran about the yard and the fields and the woods, and ate
acorns--and sweet potatoes and turnips when he could get a chance to
root them up with his funny little twitchy nose--and grunted and slept
in the sun; and about the middle of December he had grown so big that
Harry sold him for eleven dollars. Here was quite a capital for
Christmas.

"I can't afford to spend it all on Aunt Matilda," said Harry to his
mother and Kate, "for I have other things to do with my money. But she's
bound to have a good Christmas, and we'll make her a present besides."

Kate was delighted with his idea, and immediately began to suggest all
sorts of things for the present. If Harry chose to buy anything that she
could "make up," she would go right to work at it. But Harry could not
think of anything that would suit exactly, and neither could Kate, nor
their mother; and when Mr. Loudon was taken into council, at
dinner-time, he could suggest nothing but an army blanket--which
suggestion met with no favor at all.

At last Mr. Loudon advised that they should ask Aunt Matilda what she
would like to have for a present.

"There's no better way of suiting her than that," said he