eriously."

"Yes," agreed Ann.

"The trouble is, she can't hope to make them over."

"No," admitted Ann, "she can't do that."

"And then she breaks her heart over their forlorn condition."

"Yes," said Ann.

"These wretched things exist in the world, but Katie only makes her own
life wretched in trying to do anything about them. She can't reach far
enough to count, so why make herself unhappy?"

"Katie doesn't look at it that way," replied Ann, and turned away.

After the others had gone Katie committed her new dog to Worth. "Honey,
will you play with him sometimes? I know he's not as nice to play with as
the puppies, but maybe that's because nobody ever did play with him. The
things that aren't nice about him aren't his fault, Worthie, so we
mustn't be hard on him for them, must we? The reason he's so queer acting
is just because he never had anybody to love him."

Worth was so impressed that he not only accepted the dog himself but
volunteered to say a good word for him to Watts.

But a little later he brought back word that Watts said the newcomer was
an ornery cur--that he was born an ornery cur--that he was meant to be an
ornery cur, and never would be anything but an ornery cur.

"Watts is what you might call a conservative," said Katie.

And not being sure how a conservative member of the United States Army
would treat a canine child of the alley, Katie went herself to the stable
that night to see that the newcomer was fed and made to feel at home.

He did not appear to be feeling at all at home. He was crouching in his
comfortable corner just as dejectedly as he would crouch in the most
miserable alley his native city afforded.

He came, thankfully but cringingly, out to see Katie. "Doggie," said she,
"don't be so apologetic. I don't like the apologetic temperament. You
were born into this world. You have a right to live in it. Why don't you
assert your right?"

His answer was to look around for the possible tin can.

Watts had approached. "Begging your pardon, Miss Jones, but he's the
ungrateful kind. There's no use trying to do anything for that kind. He's
deservin' no better than he gets. He snapped at one of our own pups
to-night."

"I suppose so," said Kate. "I suppose when you spend your life asking for
pats and getting kicks you do get suspicious and learn to snap. It seems
too bad that little dogs that want to be loved should have to learn to
snarl. You see, Watts, he's had a hard lif