looked exquisitely ridiculous with his forepaws through the sleeves, and, when we buttoned the little collar securely round his throat, both Laura and I were too much amused at his appearance to think of the consequences to her newly-finished work. Suddenly Punch-who up to that time had been as grave as a judge-gave a mighty bound, knocking Laura over and nearly upsetting me, and, like a flash of lightning, he tore down the garden walk, leapt a low hedge, and we heard a great splash. We rushed after him. There was Punch, still in his white robe, swimming about in the brook. How absurd the effect was no words of mine can tell you. In a few moments he was out again on the other side, rolling on the bank, tearing about the field trying to get rid of the wet clinging calico. It was no use; the stuff was new, and would not tear easily. Into the brook again he plunged, and at last scampered away to the stable, where he succeeded in tearing off his clothing. It was all very well whilst it lasted, and Laura and I laughed till we cried; but we felt

very foolish when it came to the point of going into the house, and announcing that no work was forthcoming

Shall I tell you of Toddy and Sykes? I think I must, although it does not speak well for the character of my favourites; still one must be an impartial historian. Sykes was a white bull terrier of a truculent aspect, a foe to all the cats in the vicinity of his home. He was not allowed inside the house, nor even to enter the gardener's cottage on account of a bad habit he had of constantly sharpening his teeth on the furniture. He gnawed legs of chairs and tables until they were quite unfit for use; so the gardener objected to his presence in his small domicile quite as much as did the lady at the great house. Well, under these circumstances, the only cat allowed about the place thought, that if she set up her nursery in the gardener's kitchen, she would be able to preserve her innocent offspring from the monster, Sykes. Alas! she was mistaken. Looking through the open door, he, Sykes, saw a

charming picture of domestic felicity, which he forthwith determined to disturb. There was the old tabby mamma with seven sweet little babies lying on a bit of carpet by the fire. She was licking her children carefully all over, whilst they were cuadling up to her, crawling over each other, and groping about for her soft touch. The kitchen was empty, and the only sounds were the mingled mews and purrs of the pussies. Sykes dared not enter, but still he resolved to exterminate that family of kittens. What was to be done? He trotted off to the great house, walked up the steps, and looked in at the hall door; there he saw Toddy lying in the sunshine on a tiger-skin.

Now Toddy was a beautiful young lady Skye terrier, her appearance was captivating, her manners perfection, and her general character and disposition most sweet and amiable. What fiendish arguments Sykes used to persuade her to be his accomplice I don't know; but it is certain that, after Sykes had stood at the open door, uttering im