Part 6 (2/2)

NEARER and nearer the sitting-room door came the patter of little feet.

And this queer song was heard over and over:

”Herbie--is--_organ_-hand man!”

Then in pranced our little three-year-old Herbie, his eyes bright, his right hand going round and round to imitate the hand-organ man. Under his left arm was a cricket.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

”Look here!” said papa, laughing heartily, ”you've got the cart before the horse. It's hand-organ, not organ-hand.”

”Herbie--is--_organ_-hand-man!”

His eyes only shone the brighter as he persisted in his funny mistake.

GOING TO BOSTON.

”WHERE let's go to-day?” asked Elsie, as the three children ran out of doors.

”Guess we'll go to Boston,” answered Abe. And little Andy echoed, ”Boston--Boston to-day.”

So all three ran to the trunk of a large tree, lying on the ground. Tip, their dog, followed. They never went anywhere without Tip.

Andy held the whip, so he sat nearest the horse and drove. Careful Abe sat next. He had to hold Andy for fear of a fall. Elsie had nothing else to do so she held her hat up on a stick. ”So folks'll see we're comin',”

she told Abe.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

MR. FOX IS SURE.

FOXES are very sly. If they want a tender chicken for dinner, they don't walk into the poultry yard in broad daylight. Our Mr. Fox knows better than that. He waits till all is still at night. Then he steals across the yard, and peeps into the hen-house.

All is quiet, so he steps in. Now he stops a moment to listen. He wants to be sure that the big dog asleep near the house isn't after him. He hears nothing, so he looks around for the hens.

There they are, asleep on a high roost. Can he get them? His eyes s.h.i.+ne.

His mouth waters. He must have one somehow.

He is careful not to make a bit of noise--the sly fellow.

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