n would not listen, so Fritz
hurried out to his much-tried relative, followed by the others.

"Oh, Aunt Fanny, dear Aunt Fanny, I am so sorry that Pixy acted so
badly," he exclaimed.

"No, no; don't blame Pixy for your own fault. You should not have called
him. The affectionate creature was rejoiced to hear your voice. You
called him and he was glad to obey."

"Yes, it was my fault. I should have known what Pixy would do."

"Oh, no one is to blame. It was merely a mistake," said Uncle Braun,
joining in the conversation; "but you are all tired, especially the
aunt, and you must ride home."

He called a carriage, and before they could make objection they were
helped in, with Pixy at their feet.

"Bornheimer street, number 37," said Uncle Braun to the coachman as he
put a coin in his hand, and they were off.

"Oh, how nice it is to live in a great city!" remarked Franz. "In the
country when any of the people wish to ride out, the horse must be
brought up from the field and curried, the harness be put on, the
carriage taken from the carriage-house, the whip and carriage robe
gotten from their places, the horse put to the carriage, and then when
the drive is over everything has to be put back in its place."

"Yes, child, all one needs in a city in order to obtain these things is
money; and Uncle Braun has certainly done us a favor to-day to add to
his many kindnesses. I really don't know how I could have walked home,
for my knees trembled and my back ached. Never in my life did I take
such long steps, and run and bound as I had to do while trying to keep
back that black rascal."

"But it was not Pixy's fault. You said so yourself, Auntie!"

"Yes, I did say it. It was your fault in calling 'Pixy! Pixy!'"

The moment the dog heard his name he sprang up, put his paws on her lap,
and looked into her face with such an affectionate expression in his
brown eyes, that she could not help patting his head and saying, "With
it all, one cannot help loving you."

The carriage stopped at number 37, and Pixy sprang to the pavement,
followed closely by the boys, who helped Mrs. Steiner out carefully, and
with one on each side she went slowly up the long steps.

"Certainly such help is not to be despised," she said. "You are my
gallant cavaliers."

She took out her key as she spoke and unlocked the door, and was
surprised to see several letters which had been pushed under it during
her absence.

"They are only business cir