THE LOST KITTEN.

“Really! Do tell us, Frank,”
cried Poppy, who was a curious
little girl.

“Don’t you be impatient. It’s
a really and truly wonderful story,
so I must begin at the beginning.
Well, you know our dog Scamp,
don’t you; and you know that
Scamp had four little puppies the
other day, and that we gave three
of them away, so Scamp had only
one left — because three from four
leaves one. That’s subtraction.
Well, down I come this morning,
and went to look at the puppy, and
lo-and-behold there was something
else in the basket! What do you
think it was?”

‘“A bone, p’raps,” said Poppy.

“Stupid!” cried Frank. ‘“ 7zZat¢
wouldn’t have been anything wonderful. It was something alive.”

“A black-beetle, then,” suggested Poppy.

“Wrong again. It was a £2¢tex.”

“ A kitten!” cried Poppy, and her mother, and Nurse all together.

. “Ves, a tabby kitten. There

 

nestling up to Scamp,” said Frank,

les ours. . [ts our Midge!”
shrieked Poppy. And so it really
turned out to be when they all went
next door to see the kitten in

 

Scamp’s basket.

ee No doubt Scamp, when she went
out in the morning, went in search of her lost puppies, and finding the door
of the house where Poppy lived open, she thought she might just as well see