26 The Little Stowaway.

 

A pussy! that sounded plea-
sant, and I waited eagerly for his
return. I waited a long time, as it
seemed, and I had grown tired,
and was looking for daisies on the
grass, when I heard his step and
the tap of his favourite holly-stick
‘on the gravel. What a funny boy
he was to call that “something
mice!

Theré he. ‘stood,“hisreyes and
mouth all one smile, and _ held
out at arm’s length by the ears a
dead rabbit. My look and excla-
mation of horror made him grave
at once.

‘Oh, the poor little rabbit!” I