way, we can be home early."

Sister lagged a little behind her grandmother and brother as they
started for the theatre. She was stuffing Brownie into her roomy middy
blouse. He was rather a large puppy to squeeze into such a place, but
Sister managed it somehow. Grandmother Hastings supposed that the dog
had been left on the porch.

The theatre was dark, for the pictures were being shown on the screen
when they reached it, and Grandmother Hastings had to feel her way down
the aisle, Brother and Sister clinging to her skirts. The electric fans
were going, but it was warm and close, and Grandmother wished longingly
for her own cool parlor. But Brother and Sister thought everything
about the movie theatre beautiful.

"Do you suppose Brownie likes it?" whispered Brother, who sat next to
Sister. Grandmother was on his other side.

"He feels kind of hot," admitted Sister, who could not have been very
comfortable with the heavy dog inside her blouse. "But I think he likes
it."

Brownie had his head stuck halfway out, and he probably wondered where
he was. It was so dark that there was little danger of anyone
discovering him. A dog in a motion-picture house is about as popular,
you know, as Mary's lamb was in school. That is, he isn't popular at
all.

Brownie might have gone to the movies and gone home again without
anyone ever having been the wiser, if there had not been a film shown
that night that no regular dog could look at and not bark.

"Oh, look at the big cat!" whispered Sister excitedly.

Surely enough, a large cat sat on the fence, and, as they watched, a
huge collie dog, with a beautiful plumy tail, came marching around the
corner.

He spied the cat and dashed for her. She began to run, on the screen,
of course. The audience in the movie house began to laugh, for the dog
in his first jump had upset a bucket of paint. The people in the
theatre were sure they were going to see a funny picture.

But Brownie had seen the cat, too. He knew cats, and there were many in
his neighborhood he meant to chase as soon as he was old enough to make
them afraid of him. He scratched vigorously on Sister's blouse and
whined.

"Ki-yi!" he yelped, as though saying: "Ki-yi! I'll bet I could catch
that cat!"

Barking shrilly, he scrambled out from Sister's middy, shook himself
free of her arms, and tore down the aisle of the theatre, intent on
catching the fluffy cat.

"Ki-yi!" he continued to call joyously.

"Brownie