to be so shaller as to git hurt. They'll squirm over the points of the
rake, and take care of themselves."

The rake was brought; and five little sprawling kittens, with their eyes
scarcely open, were soon crawling at my feet. "Oh, you dear little
angels!" I exclaimed in ecstasy.

"Rather black-looking angels," said Aunt Henshaw with a smile.

I took them up, one after another, and was quite at a loss which to
admire most. There were three black ones, one grey, and one white one
spotted. I rather thought I preferred the white and grey, while Holly
claimed the three black ones. We took them all to the kitchen and placed
a saucer of milk before them, while Holly let out the cat, that she
might see how well we were treating them. She looked around in surprise
at first; but then deliberately taking them one by one, she carried
them all off in her mouth, and we saw nothing more of them for some
time.

I spent the morning in wandering about; and in the afternoon I sat in
the parlor with Cousin Statia, who was knitting as fast as her needles
could fly. I asked her for a book; and after some search, she handed me
the "Pilgrim's Progress," in which I soon became deeply interested,
while Aunt Henshaw took a nap in her chair. Towards evening the old
white horse was harnessed up, and we took a drive; Aunt Henshaw being
determined, as she said, to put some color in my pale cheeks. They
evidently thought a great deal of this old horse, whom they called Joe;
but I mentally compared him with my father's carriage-horses--a
comparison not much to his advantage. Cousin Statia drove, but Joe did
not seem much disposed to go. Every now and then he came to a