ferocious beast. I had it froma friend of mine who heard him growl savagely
at the cat worked upon your grandmama’s sampler. My friend fainted with
fright and remained unconscious for fully forty minutes, until she was aroused
by the striking of your great-grandfather’s clock and the whirring of the wheels.
as the heavy weights ran down.

But I was telling you how your great-uncle, Rob, tied me to the cat’s back.
I was wearing a pink muslin frock anda buff pelisse and a tippet that your
grandmama had just finished. I always tried to keep my clothes neat and tidy
and so I was lying quite still upon the shelf, that my new finery should not be-
come mussed.

Robespied meand he called the cat. I can hear his voice now as he called,
‘‘Puss, nice pussy, come here, puss.” Strange how one can recalla voice after
seventy years! Puss came, suspecting no mischief, and in a twinkling Rob had
tied me to herback with a stout piece of pack-thread, and she was tearing
across the yard at such a mad pace that I was breathless with fear.

I think that Rob was frightened when he saw this, for he had meant no harm,
but only to have a bit of sport. Away we flew into the barn and upon the hay-
mow, when the string broke and I felt myself slipping down—down toward the
horses’ manger. My love, I cannot tell you my sensations asI felt the hot
breath of the great monsters, but they only pushed me to one side, where Rob
soon found me.

He carried me back and laidmeon my shelf, but my tippet was lost and my
pelisse torn and ruined; and there was a large ugly crack across my neck; lift
up my gold beads, dear, and you can see it now.

Rob bought these beads as a peace-offering, and your grandmama tied
them on with her own hands. I havenever had them off since then. Be careful,
dear, the silk thread may have become tender with age and it might break easily,
and I should not like anything to happen to them.

It may sound sentimental, but I should like always to keep them on ac-
count of Rob. Poor lad! it must be fifty odd years since he was drowned.

I can’t tell you the story, child, for whenever I think of him such a lump
comes in my throat that it opens the old crack, and I cannot speak at all.

Well! well how I have run on, and really my throat begins to ache, and you
must notice that my voice is growing husky. I dare say it’s because I can’t help
thinking of your great-uncle, dear, but I think I must stop talking now.

Lay me down carefully, child, for Iam not so young as I once was, and 1
feel quite fatigued. There! that will donicely. How gentle youare, my dear,

quite like what your grandmama was seventy years ago.

8 L