deed. An empty rocking-chair stood 

 very near the fire and the kitten was 

 leaping back and forth between its 

 chair and Martha's, making its attacks 

 with much caution and its retreats with 

 much speed. Aunt Mary was sleepily 

 watching the fun. 



Suddenly there was a loud crash. 

 The kitten had fallen into the fire in 

 such a fashion as to knock over the 

 rocking chair in front of the grate. It 

 was a prisoner in the fiery furnace. 



Many years had passed since Aunt 

 Mary had moved so quickly. She 

 threw herself at the rocking-chair and 

 flung it to one side. She snatched up 



the unfortunate kitten and made one 

 rush to the kitchen and the kerosene 

 can, and by the time Martha overtook 

 her, was soaking the poor little burned 

 paws. 



Half an hour later when Aunts Jenny 

 and Amy opened the sitting-room 

 door, an astonishing sight met their 

 eyes. The firelight redness flickered 

 over the excited faces of Martha and 

 Aunt Mary laughing and talkingeagerly 

 together, Martha no longer dignified 

 and Aunt Mary no longer shy. That 

 was the beginning of the end, but Aunt 

 Mary was always Martha's favorite. 



And it was the little kitten who did it. 



TWO BIRD LOVERS. 



SUNDAY afternoon the birds were 

 sweetly mad, and the lovely rage 

 of song drove them hither and 

 thither, and swelled their breasts 

 amain. It was nothing less than a tor 

 nado of fine music. I kept saying, 

 "Yes, yes, yes, I know, dear little mani 

 acs! I know there never was such an 

 air, such a day, such a sky, such a God! 

 I know it! I know it!" But they 

 would not be pacified. Their throats 

 must have been made of fine gold, or 

 they would have been rent by such rap 

 ture - quakes. Mrs. Nathaniel Haw 

 thorne, in a letter to her mother. 



Lovely flocks of rose-breasted gros 

 beaks were here yesterday in the high 

 elms above the springhouse How very 

 elegant they are! I heard a lark, too, 

 in the meadows near the lake, the note 

 more minor than ever in October air. 

 And oh, such white crowns and white 

 throats! A jeweled crown is not to be 

 mentioned beside theirs such marvel 

 ous contrasts of velvets, black, and 

 white! Swamp sparrows, too, and fox 

 sparrows I saw both during my last 

 drive. From letter to Ed., from Nelly 

 Hart Woodworth, Vermont, Oct. 20, 1899. 



WINTER TIME. 



ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. 



Late lies the wintry sun a-bed, 

 A frosty, fiery, sleepy-head; 

 Blinks but an hour or two; and then, 

 A blood-red orange sets again. 



Before the stars have left the skies, 

 At morning in the dark I rise; 

 And shivering in my nakedness, 

 By the cold candle, bathe and dress. 



Close by the jolly fire I sit 



To warm my frozen bones a bit; 



Or, with a reindeer-sled, explore 

 The colder countries round the door. 



When to go out, my nurse doth wrap 

 Me in my comforter and cap, 

 The cold wind burns my face, and blows 

 Its frosty pepper up my nose. 



Black are my steps on silver sod; 

 Thick blows my frosty breath abroad; 

 And tree and house, and hill and lake, 

 Are frosted like a wedding-cake. 



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