In another book, about Minnie's pet pony, I have already given you some account of Nannie, her pet lamb. This had all the peculiarities of the South Down, to which breed of sheep it belonged. It had full, bright, black eyes, a small head, and a brownish-gray face and legs. Its back was straight and wide, and covered with fine, short wool, which protected it from the cold.

A torrent of emotion rushes through my mind, pleasure mingled with pain-pleasure at the prospect of the happiness, I may reasonably expect in the society of a beloved husband-and pain at the thought of the long time which will probably intervene before I shall see the loved members of our home-circle, and also from the assurance that when I set my foot upon the shores of the Western continent, the broad Atlantic will roll between us.

Fidelle, Minnie's second pet, was a beautiful tortoise-shell cat. She was an elegant creature. Her fur was of moderate length, of pure black, white, and reddish orange. Her eyes were large, bright, and affectionate in expression. Her form was delicate, and her motions active. In character, she was the most attached, graceful little puss I ever knew.

I have given an account of Minnie's pet parrot, and of Minnie's pet cat. In this volume I shall give the reader an account of her pet dog, Tiney, with anecdotes of other dogs.

When I was a child I used to glance at the first sentence in a new book to see whether it looked interesting. If it began, "There was once a boy, who lived in a fine house," I was encouraged to go on.

Hatty see that pretty kitty I wonder where she came from." Fred Carleton walked softly toward the puss, his hand outstretched, calling, "Kitty, pretty kitty," until he had her in his arms.

"Please mamma, may I go to ride with you?" asked little red-cheeked Josey Codman. Mamma was tying on baby's silk hood, and did not answer for a minute. "I would let him go," urged Aunt Fanny. "He can sit between us; and he wont be a bit of trouble." Josey clapped his hands.

Did you ever see a monkey? If you have not, I suppose you will like to hear a description of Jacko, Minnie's sixth pet. He was about eighteen inches high, with long arms, covered with short hair, which he used as handily as a boy, flexible fingers, with flat nails, and a long tail, covered with hair, which seemed to answer the purpose of a third hand.

The object of these little books is not so much to give full, scientific information with regard to the animals of which they treat, as to bring before the child such facts concerning them as shall interest him in their history, awaken a desire to know more of the particular traits of each, and especially lead him to be kind to them as a part of God's creation.

In the other books of this little series, I have told you about Minnie's pet parrot, her pet cat, and her pet dog. In this one, I shall give you an account of her pet pony, and also tell you anecdotes of other horses.