IN FEATHERS AND FUR. 
11 
THE BROWN BABY WHO LIVES IN THE BASEMENT 
I wonder how you'd like to be one of the brown babies who 
live in our basement — and yours, too, no doubt. 
How would you like it, every time you put your head out of 
doors, to find a fierce lion, or sly, bloodthirsty tiger, waiting to snap 
you up ? Would it be pleasant to have to work hard for every 
dinner you ate, often being obliged to dig through a wall before 
you got anything ? 
How would you enjoy having the world filled with monstrous 
giants, who took delight in chasing and killing you ? 
Well, that's the life the poor brown baby lives. Do you sup- 
pose he likes it any better than you? And it's just the same with 
his mamma and papa, brothers and sisters, and, in fact, the whole 
family. 
To be sure, he's nothing but a rat. But then you're nothing 
but a child, and his dinner and his life are as dear to him as yours 
are to you. 
