ough I can't see him.

And still another just coming out of the hole! Claws and Whiskers! If my
heart beats like this I'll never on this table be able to jump
straight--never.

One more--_four_! Talk about your mouse hunting! Why my paws tremble so I
shall have regular "mouse-ague" in a minute.

They're all making for the cheese; I can hear their claws scampering up
the wood. One--two--three--where's the last? There's the fourth patter.
I _should_ get two, for they're close together and eating very intently.

_Now_ for it!

Dear, dear! What a noise that front door does make. Master Harold's
little voice, too--

Oh, my eyes and teeth! Why _need_ they have come just now? Those mice
heard it, too--they've stopped eating. Oh-h-h!

(Little boy bangs into kitchen and snatches Tabitha Tiger ecstatically
from table. Mice scatter back to hole.)

(_Tabitha Tiger_) Mr-r-r--owh! Sf-f-ft! Sf-f-ft! (_Scratch_, _scratch_.)

(_Little Boy_) Boo-hoo-hoo! (_Slap-slap._ _Boy runs away._)

(_Tabitha Tiger_) He spoiled the finest mouse-catch of the season, and I
_had_ to scratch him--a puss can't stand everything!

Gracious Cattails!

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

Dot's Beetles.

Since his fluffy kittenhood Dot has been afraid of beetles,
grasshoppers, crickets and, in fact, any large insect. That is rather
strange in a kitten, is it not? But he had one experience which I think
excuses his timidity.

It was on a warm summer morning that he and his twin--no, let us say
triplet--brother Dab (the three kittens were called Dot, Dab and Fluff,
for they were too tiny to toddle around under heavier names, their
mistress said) were lying sleepily in their favorite corner of the
piazza. To make sure he was missing nothing that a kitten should not
miss, Dot opened his drowsy eyes and looked around. Instantly the drowsy
look vanished and was replaced by one of intense interest.

For lo! crawling toward their corner was a many-legged, shiny black
thing with pinch-y, dangerous-looking horns! Dot did not altogether like
its looks; but curiosity was strong, and, calling to Dab, he started for
the intruder.

Keeping safely behind the more venturesome brother, Dab followed at a
slow trot.

"See-e-e! It's alive!" mewed Dot excitedly. "Let's play with it."

"Mee-_you_ try it first," squeaked Dab.

Dot cautiously extended a pink paw toward the beetle; it came steadily
on, and the paw was hastily withdrawn. Meanwhile Dab, to