would climb between that and the screen. 

 Then his long toe nails would get fast 

 in the screen and he would cry until some 

 one freed him. 



We used to feed him vegetables and 

 bread and milk. Sometimes I would take 

 him out to the garden and let him help 

 himself. It was fun to see him pick 

 carefully one leaf of lettuce at a time 

 and sitting up hold it between his front 

 paws while he ate, very much as the 

 squirrels do. 



One day I thought I had lost him, for. 

 he went under the sidewalk and would 

 not come out. Finally I gave up trying 

 to coax him and went into the house to 

 help mamma get supper. . 



By-and-by I heard Jimmie crying, and 

 then, oh, how he chattered. I had never 

 heard him chatter so hard. Mamma said 

 to me : ^'Jimmie^s in trouble." So out 

 I went to see what the trouble might be. 

 Sure enough there was Jimmie. in a cor- 

 ner and a big black dog was looking at 

 him, as if he would like to swallow him. 

 But when Jimmie saw me he suddenly 

 became very brave and started toward the 

 dog like a true soldier. But when the big 



dog growled and jumped towards him 

 he forgot his bravery and backed slowly 

 towards me, chattering all the while. He 

 was very willing now to go into the 

 house with me. 



Jimmie was an interesting creature. 

 He was only a little fellow, you know, 

 and was probably about eight inches long 

 and nearly as wide. He was rather flat 

 and appeared to have no neck at all, his 

 head joining his body just where his 

 neck should have been. It was impos- 

 sible to fasten him with a cord, unless 

 you tied it to his feet, for if you tried to 

 tie it around his body it would slip off at 

 one end or the other, according to the 

 way he happened to pull. His fur was 

 a grayish brown. 



Jimmie was not always good and 

 sometimes he got into mischief. One day 

 he found my sister's box of photographs 

 and destroyed the box, and chewed the 

 corners of several of the pictures. This 

 was too much and she said : "Jimmie 

 must go, so after much deliberation I 

 gave him to a little friend. However, I 

 often went to see him, and he knew and 

 remembered me for quite a long time. 

 Pearl McCowan. 



THE SURGE SONG. 



Rolling up from the shimmering sea 



Into the mountain lands, 

 Comes the song of the surges free 



That march along the sands. 



Wild and sweet the lilting beat 



Of surf on the sandy paves. 

 A sea-born breeze a-winging fleet, 



Brings music from the waves. 



Laugh the mountain tops and croon 



O'er to themselves the song; 

 Murmuring on the echoed tune, 

 The distance-mellowed, rumbling rune 



Of the surges pulsing strong. 



— Frank Farrington. 



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