es. "It has been enough trouble to
me that I brought him without first asking papa and mamma. It was a mean
thing to do, but I thought it would be so nice to have him take the
journey with us."

Franz and Paul were ashamed of their treatment of the one to whom they
were indebted for the visit to Mrs. Steiner and Frankfort, and hastened
to assure him that no matter what trouble happened through Pixy's fault
they would make no word of complaint.

Pixy knew by the change of tone that peace had again spread its blessed
wings over the "three-leaved clover," and to show his approbation he
fawned upon all three with impartial effusiveness.

"I am sorry that I said that he had no sense like city dogs that were
running quietly along-side of wagons, but must try to jump on the car
whenever it stopped," said Paul penitently.

"Yes," replied Fritz, throwing his arm around Pixy's neck, "you were
both glad when you saw that I was bringing him upon the journey, and now
when he brings us into trouble we must not blame him for what he cannot
help."

"No, it would not be right to blame him for loving us, and wanting to be
with us," agreed Franz.

"Aunt Fanny will rejoice to see him, I know," continued Fritz. "No, I am
not at all sorry I brought him, only I wish I had asked leave of papa
and mamma."

The mention of his aunt reminded the three that they had yet to find her
house, and they were in consultation as to what way to go when a
workman in a blue blouse came in sight and they asked the way to 37
Bornheimer street.

"Whom are you going to see there?" he asked.

"My Aunt Fanny Steiner. She lives in the apartments on the third floor."

"If you will give me fifty cents, I will take you there."

The boys glanced at each other but were silent, and the man saw that he
had struck too high.

"Well, then, suppose we say thirty pennies. That will be ten each," and
to this they agreed and the caravan set out, Fritz leading Pixy by his
cord.

The way led through several streets but at length they reached a retired
street, and the leader halted before a neat dwelling with a flight of
long winding steps leading up to a narrow porch and it was agreed among
them that he should go up while the boys waited below. In response to
his knock, the door was opened by a small, elderly lady, who was
informed that three boys and a dog waited below.

"I am not expecting anyone," she said, stepping out upon the porch and
looking down.

"Her