since, and I thought he was getting to
feel too much at home. I'll fix him."

So the next morning Jim took a particularly nice and tempting piece of
meat, covered it with poison, and just as the cats' breakfast was
finished, and the cats slowly dispersing, he threw this tidbit directly
at the little skunk. He swallowed it greedily, and before noon he was
dead.

Jim could not help being sorry when he saw him stretched out stiff near
his home in the woodpile. "He was a pert little rascal;" said Jim. "I
did kind o' hate to kill him; but he should have stayed with his own
folks, if he wanted to be let alone. It's too dangerous having skunks
round."

In less than a year's time, there was not a rabbit to be seen on Mr.
Connor's grounds, and only now and then a gopher, the hunter cats had
done their work so thoroughly.

But there was one other enemy that Mr. Connor would have to be rid of,
before he could have any great success with his fruit orchards. You will
be horrified to hear the name of this enemy. It was the linnet. Yes, the
merry, chirping, confiding little linnets, with their pretty red heads
and bright eyes, they also were enemies, and must be killed. They were
too fond of apricots and peaches and pears and raspberries, and all
other nice fruits.

If birds only had sense enough, when they want a breakfast or dinner of
fruit, to make it off one, or even two,--eat the peach or the pear or
whatever it might be all up, as we do,--they might be tolerated in
orchards; nobody would grudge a bird one peach or cherry. But that isn't
their way. They like to hop about in the tree, and take a nip out of
first one, then another, and then another, till half the fruit on the
tree has been bitten into and spoiled. In this way, they ruin bushels of
fruit every season.

"I wonder if we could not teach the cats to hunt linnets, Jim," said Mr.
Connor one morning. It was at the breakfast-table.

"O Uncle George! the dear sweet little linnets!" exclaimed Rea, ready to
cry.

"Yes, my dear sweet little girl," said Uncle George. "The dear sweet
little linnets will not leave us a single whole peach or apricot or
cherry to eat."

"No!" said Jusy, "they're a perfect nuisance. They've pecked at every
apricot on the trees already."

"I don't care," said Rea. "Why can't they have some? I'd just as soon
eat after a linnet as not. Their little bills must be all clean and
sweet. Don't have them killed, Uncle George."

"No danger but