“What will you name it?” asked mamma, smiling.

“It was so white, it looked lke a little snowball when I first saw it, and I
think Snowball would be a pretty name.”

For three days Minnie kept the kitten, and was beginning to think it was
really her own. She was sitting by the fire, rocking Snowball to sleep, when
some one knocked at the door. She went to open it, still holding the kitty in
her arms. A little boy stood there, who said: “I heard my kitten was here and
I came after it.”

“But are you sure it’s yours?” asked Minnie, tightening her hold of Snow-
ball.

“Yes, I’m sure, and I want it.”

When Minnie saw she must really let it go she thrust it into the boy’s
hands, saying: ‘‘Good-by, my poor little Snowball.” Running to her mamma
she climbed into her lap and cried very hard for her lost pet.

The next morning when Minnie came into the dining-room she heard that
same little cry at the door. Opening it, there was her dear little Snowball
come back to her.

She clapped her hands with delight, and said she should hide it if any one
came after it again; but mamma said: ‘When its owner comes after it again
perhaps he will sell it to you, for it seems to wish to stay here.”

And it was not long before the owner came. This time Minnie’s mamma
went to the door and asked him if he would let them keep his kitten, as she
seemed to want to stay with them.

“T will buy it,” she said, “aif you will sell it.”

Minnie held Snowball tightly while she waited for his answer.

“Well,” he said, after a little, ‘I don’t care much for a kitten that will run
away all the time. You may have her for ten cents.”

“Please give him more, mamma,” whispered Minnie, and Mrs. Vine handed
the delighted little boy a bright twenty-five cent piece.

“You are worth a great deal more than that,” said Minnie. Snowball
looked up at her and purred softly, as if she would say she knew that Minnie

was right.
6 —L. C.