e seemed frightful."

"I--was being married," wailed Mary, "to a man I couldn't see. And just
as soon as it was over he turned from the altar and said, '_Now_ we'll
begin to lead a cat and dog life.' And, oh, it was so awful," she
continued, sobbingly, the terror of the dream still holding her, "he--he
_barked_ at me! And he showed his teeth, and I had to spit and mew and
hump my back whether _I_ wanted to or not." Her voice grew higher and
more excited with every sentence. "And I could feel my claws growing
longer and longer, and I knew I'd never have fingers again, only just
paws with fur on 'em! Ugh! It made me sick to feel the fur growing over
me that way. I cried and cried. Now as I tell about it, it begins to
sound silly, but it was awful then,--so dark, and me hanging by my claws
to the edge of the wood-shed roof, ready to drop off. I thought Phil was
in the house, and I tried to call him, but I couldn't remember his name.
I got mixed up with the Philip on the shilling, and I kept yelling,
Shill! Philling! Shilling! and I couldn't make him understand. He
wouldn't come!"

As she picked up the corner of the sheet to wipe her eyes Mrs. Sherman
and the girls burst out laughing, and there was an echoing peal of
amusement in the hall. The affair would not have seemed half so
ridiculous in the daylight, but to be called out of bed at that hour to
listen to such a dream, told only as Mary Ware could tell it, impressed
the entire family as one of the funniest things that had ever happened.
They laughed till the tears came.

"I don't see what ever put such a silly thing into my head," said Mary,
finally, beginning to feel mortified as she realized what an excitement
she had created for nothing.

"It was Rob's talking about people who live a regular cat and dog life,"
said Betty. "Don't you remember how long we talked about it to-day down
in the clover-patch?"

"You mean yesterday," prompted Phil from the hall, "for it's nearly
morning now. And, Mary, I'll tell you why you had it. It's a warning! A
solemn warning! It means that you must never, never marry."

"That's what I thought, too," quavered Mary, so seriously that they all
laughed again.

"I hope everybody will excuse me for waking them up," called Mary, as
they began to disperse to their rooms. "Oh, dear!" she added to Joyce,
as she lay back once more on her pillow. "Why is it that I am always
doing such mortifying things! I am _so_ ashamed of myself."

The