flowers of child-dreams bloom. The gates thereto are slight
but strong, and only knowledge erects an impassable barrier.

The wind sang its lullaby through the blossoms of the tree, and sleep
would soon have overtaken Yuki Chan had not a peculiar sound aroused
her and caused her eyes to fly wide open. Once before she had heard
it, and it had meant death to the big robin who lived in the branches
above. The cry came from the mother bird this time and brought Yuki
Chan to her feet.

Through the shower of blossoms, brought down by the mad fluttering of
wings, she saw a tiny half-feathered thing struggling in the sharp
claws of her lately acquired pet. With certainty of success, the cat
let its victim weakly flutter an inch or two away, then reaching out a
cruel paw drew it back. Twice repeated, the green eyes narrowed to
slits, and Yuki Chan, horrified, saw big red drops slowly dripping
from either side of the whiskered mouth. Terror held her for a moment
as she heard the crunching of small bones, then white passion
enveloped her as she stole noiselessly from behind and closed her two
small hands around the furry throat.

_"Baka!"_ she cried from between her clenched teeth. _"Baka_--to eat
the baby birds! This day will I ask Oni to make you into a stone,
which every foot will kick and hurt, and you can neither move nor cry.
You cruel, cruel beast!" In vain the cat struggled. Yuki Chan held it
firmly at arm's-length while she decided what was to be its fate.

Looking sternly at the offender, her lips rounded into a long-drawn
"s-o," the light of anticipated revenge danced in her eyes. At last
she knew what to do, O most honorable but very ugly cat! She would
throw her into the ditch, where great crawling frogs with popping eyes
would stick out long tongues; where flying things would sting, and
creeping things would bite; where the great tide would come later and
take her out to the big, big ocean, where there was neither milk to
drink nor birds to eat.

At the thought of her furry playmate floating alone and hungry in the
vast place which, to Yuki Chan, had neither beginning nor end,
something of pity touched her heart, and she slightly loosened her
grasp.

The cat gained a good breath and used it. In the fight for freedom a
sharp claw was drawn down the child's arm, leaving a line of red in
its course. Compassion took flight, and Yuki Chan, clutching anew,
went swiftly down the path that led to the street, with a w