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Adopting an Abandoned Farm by Kate Sanborn
page 55 of 91 (60%)
"I hear you like pets," she said, "Well, I've got some tame rats, a
father and mother and thirteen little ones, and a mother with four.
They're orful cunning. Hope you'll take 'em."

A big, red-faced, black-bearded, and determined man drove one day into
the yard with an immense wagon, in which was standing a stupid, vicious
old goat, and almost insisted on leaving it at a most ridiculously high
price.

"Heard that the woman that had come to live here wanted most every
animal that Noah got into the ark; was sure she'd like a goat." It was
with considerable difficulty that he could be induced to take it away.

Dogs, dogs, dogs--from mastiff to mongrel, from St. Bernard to toy
poodle--the yard really swarmed with them just before the first of May,
when dog taxes must be paid!

A crow that could talk, but rather objectionably, was offered me.

A pert little boy, surrounded by his equally pert mates, said, after
coming uninvited to look over my assortment: "Got most everything,
hain't ye? Got a monkey?"

Then his satellites all giggled.

"No, not yet. Will not you come in?"

Second giggle, less hearty.

A superannuated clergyman walked three miles and a quarter in a heavy
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