loved cat. "The poor creature has not been himself
since the young masters have been away. He feels too lonesome to hunt
the mice as he used to do so gaily in the old days, tossing them up in
the air when he caught them, and bringing them mewing to my feet,--the
dear one! Why, he hardly ever touches a drop of milk now."

"Yes, I see he spares our cream--"

"Oh, madame, that was a libel on the poor animal. It was only the dear
lad Eric's joke! Mouser would never touch one drop of the breakfast
cream, save perhaps when we might be late for the meal, or when the dear
fellow felt a little thirsty, or--"

"Ah, indeed! Yes, no doubt," interrupted Madame Dort, laughing again.
"He would have been at it again to-day, only Burgher Jans' dog came in
at the nick of time and scared him away!"

"Did he!" said Lorischen indignantly. "It strikes me that pest of a
terrier is here a good deal too much, like his master! And, talk of
him, there he is!" she added hastily, leaving the room as a knock came
to the door.

Burgher Jans came in as the old nurse went out, brushing by him with
ill-concealed contempt and aversion. He was a fat little man, with long
straight hair coming down over his coat collar, and a round, full-moon
sort of face, whose effect of beaming complacency was enhanced by a pair
of large-rimmed tortoise-shell spectacles out of which his owl-like eyes
shone with an air of balmy wisdom.

"Most worthy lady," he commenced, addressing Madame Dort with an
elaborate bow, sweeping the floor with his hat. "Unto me the greatest
and ever-much rapture doth it with added satisfaction bring, to tell you
of the glorious success of the German arms over our greatly-overbearing
and hopeful-of-victory foe."

"Dear me!" exclaimed the widow, "you are rather late with your news; I
heard from Fritz just now."

"And is the dear, well-brought-up, and worthy youth in good health?"

"He is," said Madame Dort; "and tells us to expect him home soon."

Burgher Jans looked startled at this announcement, losing a trifle of
his beaming smile. "He is not wounded, I trust?" asked he tremblingly.

"Oh dear no, thank the good God who has watched over him," answered the
other cheerfully. "Why, he has not been in battle yet! He tells us
that the French are retreating, and that the war will be over almost
before another blow has been struck, the enemy having to surrender
before our irresistible battalions."

"Have you not heard of the