akes; only the rabbits. Once a
mule was so frightened that he plunged till he broke his halter, got
free, and ran off down the hill; and the men had a big chase before they
overtook him.

But the queerest thing of all that happened, was that the cats adopted a
skunk; or else it was the skunk that adopted the cats; I don't know
which would be the proper way of stating it; but at any rate the skunk
joined the family, lived with them in the woodpile, came with them every
morning to be fed, and went off with them hunting gophers every day. It
must have been there some time before Jim noticed it, for when he first
saw it, it was already on the most familiar and friendly terms with all
the cats. It was a pretty little black and white creature, and looked a
good deal like one of Mexican's kittens.

Finally it became altogether too friendly: Jim found it in the kitchen
cellar one day; and a day or two after that, it actually walked into
the house. Mr. Connor was sitting in his library writing. He heard a
soft, furry foot patting on the floor, and thought it was Fairy.
Presently he looked up; and, to his horror, there was the cunning little
black and white skunk in the doorway, looking around and sniffing
curiously at everything, like a cat. Mr. Connor held his breath and did
not dare stir, for fear the creature should take it into its head that
he was an enemy. Seeing everything so still, the skunk walked in, walked
around both library and dining-room, taking minute observations of
everything by means of its nose. Then it softly patted out again, across
the hall, and out of the front door, down the veranda steps.

It had seemed an age to Mr. Connor; he could hardly help laughing too,
as he sat there in his chair, to think how helpless he, a grown-up man,
felt before a creature no bigger than that,--a little thing whose neck
he could wring with one hand; and yet he no more dared to touch it, or
try to drive it out, than if it had been a roaring lion. As soon as it
was fairly out of the way, Mr. Connor went in search of Jim.

"Jim," said he, "that skunk you were telling me about, that the cats had
adopted, seems to be thinking of adopting me; he spent some time in the
library with me this morning, looking me over; and I am afraid he liked
me and the place much too well. I should like to have him killed. Can
you manage it?"

"Yes, sir," laughed Jim. "I was thinking I'd have to kill him. I caught
him in the cellar a day or two