on," said Puss, Jr.,
with a sigh. "I'd like to be a milkman if I had a Naggetty Nogg to
drive."

WHO IS A MAN'S MOST FAITHFUL FRIEND?

"What is your master's name?" asked Puss, Jr., as the old white
milk-horse paused in his story.

"Jockety jog, jockety jog!
My master's name is Roundey K. Rogg.

"Jockety jog, jockety jog!
He's a good man; he drinks no grog.

"Jockety jog, jockety jog!
Never does he old Naggetty flog."

"That's a blessing," said Puss, Jr. "I've seen so many poor horses
whipped. It's a shame that a man can hurt a horse."

"Yes, a horse is a man's most faithful friend," replied old Naggetty.
"He works for him all the time."

"Don't you get tired?" asked Puss.

"No-o-o," replied the old horse, "not very tired. You see, when we start
out we have the cans full. So we go very slowly so as not to churn the
milk or spill it. If we went too fast the tops of the cans might fly
off. Then on our way home, when all the milk has been delivered and all
the hungry little children have had all they can drink, we come along at
a good clip. The cans bump and make a most cheerful noise. And every
step is nearer home, where my supper of oats is waiting for me, and my
good master's supper is waiting for him."

"I'd like to climb up into your wagon and go home with you," said Puss.
"Do you suppose your master would object?"

"You can ask him," replied the old horse. "But you mustn't climb up
until you do."

"Certainly not," replied Puss, indignantly. "I wouldn't take such a
liberty. Tell me more about him." The old horse whisked his tail and
commenced:

"Jockety jog, jockety jog!
I'll bear him safe through all this fog.

"Jockety jog, jockety jog!
How the darkness this way doth clog."

The old horse paused. "I was thinking of a dark night some time ago. The
moon was hidden behind the clouds and not a star was to be seen. We had
gone a long ways out of our usual track, for my master had heard of a
poor woman who had a sick baby, and he said he must take her some fresh
milk. When we started back for home it was already pretty dark, but I
knew the road. My master left it all to me. He just let the reins hang
down over the dashboard and gave me my head. So I kept along, taking
good care not to stumble. The tin cans bumped and banged together and
the wheels creaked over the rough places. Master began to sing his
favorite song:

"Place the little candl