ered. "But oh! I fain would have a cat to chase.
Is there no Cat-Star, good master, whence thou couldst get me a cat? see
now, how merry these dogs have been!"

"Truly," I replied, "there is no Cat-Star; and if there were, thou
wouldst be none the better off, for I would not have such noise and
strife in my quiet home. Art thou not happy? here thou hast no work to
do; canst eat green cheese all day, if it please thee, and sport with
the merry beams which my brother Sun sends over. Perhaps thou wouldst
like to go back to the Dog Star, whence thou camest. There thou hadst
work enough and to spare, for thou wast servant to Prince Canis, and he
is a hard master." And I tipped the mirror, so that we could see Sirius
(which is the name of that star,) and what was going on in it. There sat
Prince Canis on his throne, richly dressed. Hundreds of servants bowed
before him, or hurried hither and thither to do his bidding. He spoke
harshly to them, and flourished a huge whip, which was his sceptre,
about their ears, making them howl with pain.

"Wilt thou go back?" I asked.

"Oh, no, no!" cried the dog, shrinking back. "Tip the glass away, my
master, lest he see me and carry me off! I promise thee I will never
complain again!"

"That is well!" I said. "And if thou wantest something to chase, thou
mayest chase me, though that would not be very exciting. So now, we will
look for Brighteyes, and see what has become of the child."

I tipped the glass, and again the garden blossomed before me, sunny and
bright, shining with grass-emerald and dandelion gold, under the drifts
of apple-blossoms. Yes, it was a pretty sight, and whichever way I may
tip my glass, I see no prettier sight than this garden, in the spring of
the year.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER V.

TOMTY.

BRIGHTEYES had been spending the morning with Tomty of course; anyone
might have known that, for she was always with Tomty whenever she could
not be found anywhere else. Tomty was the gardener, and his real name
was Thomas Wilson, but the mice thought that Tomty was a much better
name, and I think so too. He was the kindest gardener that ever lived, I
think, and I have seen a good many. He liked nothing better than to have
all the five mice trotting at his heels while he went about his work.
They might hide his shears, and run off with his trowel, and take his
rake and hoe for hobbyhorses, but Tomty was never out of patience with
them.

"S