away from all
little children, we were glad of any thing to
pet. But it was of no use; for, even when foxes
are taken very young, they cannot be tamed.
They do not attach themselves to men, as dogs
and some other animals do. He would not play
with us at all; but we enjoyed watching him, as
we had not many amusements.

One day we had to go off on a march, and left
our little fox tied to a tree. When we came
back, he was gone. We never knew how he got
away; but we were not very sorry, for he was
not happy with us. It was much better for him
to be in the woods with his own friends. If he
was smart enough to stay there, he may be
living now; but he must be a pretty old fox by
this time.

Here papa stopped; and his little boy drew a long breath, as though very
glad that the little fox got into the woods again.

MARY MYRTLE.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

DIXIE.

DIXIE, this little dog of mine,
Had legs like a spider, black and fine,
A nimble tail, and a body slim,
And ears that would almost cover him.

[Illustration]

If you whispered to him of "birds" or "rats,"
Of "cows" or "squirrels" or "pigs" or "cats,"
He was all a-tremble with hope and fun,
Ready to hunt or fight or run.

But Dixie is older now; he shows
A gray mustache on his once black nose:
Slower his legs to frolic and leap;
And he needs a nice soft place to sleep.

[Illustration]

But he has such brown and gentle eyes,
Has love so human, and ways so wise,
Has tastes so dainty,--the wilful elf!--
That he rules all things to suit himself.

Only Flora has any fear
If he speaks too loud, or comes too near;
Yet she told me bravely the other night
She could pat the end that didn't bite.

CLARA DOTY BATES.

[Illustration]

ABOUT BEES.

[Illustration: L]OUDLY weeping, I ran to my father from the garden, a
bee having stung me in the hand. He drew out the sting, washed my
swollen hand in cool water, told me about those wonderful creatures the
bees, and promised to take me to visit a gentleman who kept many hives
of them.

So, the first fine da