And now Christmas, always a great holiday with the negroes of the South,
was approaching, and Harry and Kate determined to try and give Aunt
Matilda extra good living during Christmas week, and to let her have
company every day if she wanted it.

Harry had a pig. He got it in the spring when it was very small, and
when its little tail was scarcely long enough to curl. There was a story
about his getting this pig.

He and some other boys had been out walking, and several dogs went along
with them. The dogs chased a cat--a beautiful, smooth cat, that
belonged to old Mr. Truly Matthews. The cat put off at the top of her
speed, which was a good deal better than any speed the dogs could show,
and darted up a tree right in front of her master's house. The dogs
surrounded the tree and barked as if they expected to bark the tree
down. One little fuzzy dog, with short legs and hair all over his eyes,
actually jumped into a low crotch, and the boys thought he was going to
try to climb the tree. If he had ever reached the cat he would have been
very sorry he had not stayed at home, for she was a good deal bigger
than he was. Harry and his friends endeavored to drive the dogs away
from the tree, but it was of no use. Even kicks and blows only made them
bark the more. Directly out rushed Mr. Truly Matthews, as angry as he
could be. He shouted and scolded at the boys for setting their dogs on
his cat, and then he kicked the dogs out of his yard in less time than
you could count seventy-two. He was very angry, indeed, and talked about
the shocking conduct of the boys to everybody in the village. He would
listen to no explanations or excuses.

Harry was extremely sorry that Mr. Matthews was so incensed against him,
especially as he knew there was no cause for it, and he was talking