Little Warhorse 
est corner of the yard. The house Cat was 
gingerly picking her way from barn to kitchen, 
as Warhorse halted in the gateway. 
The black form of his pursuer was crawling 
down the far white prairie slope. Jack hopped 
quietly into the yard. A long-legged Rooster, 
that ought to have minded his own business, 
uttered a loud cackle as he saw the Rabbit 
hopping near. The Dog lying in the sun 
raised his head and stood up, and Jack’s peril 
was dire. He squatted low and turned him- 
self into a gray clod. He did it cleverly, but 
still might have been lost but for the Cat. Un- 
wittingly, unwillingly, she saved him. ‘The 
black Dog had taken three steps toward the 
Warhorse, though he did not know the Rabbit 
was there, and was now blocking the only way 
of escape from the yard, when the Cat came 
round the corner of the house, and leaping to 
a window-ledge brought a flower-pot rolling 
down. By that single awkward act she dis- 
turbed the armed neutrality existing between 
herself and the Dog. She fled to the barn, and 
of course a flying foe is all that is needed to send 
a Dog on the war-path. They passed within 
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