nd see the bright eye looking so reproachfully at
me, and feel the flutter of life. We animals, or rather the most of us,
kill mercifully. It is only human beings who butcher their prey, and
seem, some of them, to rejoice in their agony. I used to be eager to
kill birds and rabbits, but I did not want to keep them before me long
after they were dead. I often stop in the street and look up at fine
ladies' bonnets, and wonder how they can wear little dead birds in such
dreadful positions. Some of them have their heads twisted under their
wings and over their shoulders, and looking toward their tails, and
their eyes are so horrible that I wish I could take those ladies into
the woods and let them see how easy and pretty a live bird is, and how
unlike the stuffed creatures they wear. Have you ever had a good run in
the woods, Joe?"

"No, never," I said.

"Some day I will take you, and now it is late and I must go to bed. Are
you going to sleep in the kennel with me, or in the stable?"

"I think I will sleep with you, Jim. Dogs like company, you know, as
well as human beings." I curled up in the straw beside him, and soon we
were fast asleep.

I have known a good many dogs, but I don't think I ever saw such a good
one as Jim. He was gentle and kind, and so sensitive that a hard word
hurt him more than a blow. He was a great pet with Mrs. Morris, and as
he had been so well trained, he was able to make himself very useful to
her.

When she went shopping, he often carried a parcel in his mouth for her.
He would never drop it nor leave it anywhere. One day, she dropped her
purse without knowing it, and Jim picked it up, and brought it home in
his mouth. She did not notice him, for he always walked behind her. When
she got to her own door, she missed the purse, and turning around saw it
in Jim's mouth.

Another day, a lady gave Jack Morris a canary cage as a present for
Carl. He was bringing it home, when one of the little seed boxes fell
out. Jim picked it up and carried it a long way, before Jack discovered
it.

* * * * *

CHAPTER IX

THE PARROT BELLA

I often used to hear the Morrises speak about vessels that ran between
Fairport and a place called the West Indies, carrying cargoes of lumber
and fish, and bringing home molasses, spices, fruit, and other things.
On one of these vessels, called the "Mary Jane," was a cabin boy, who
was a friend of the Morris boys,