He only eats the little bits. After he goes back I can always hear his family squeaking for joy. There are three kinds of squeaks. One kind is the children’s, and one is Mrs. Melchisedec’s, and one is Melchisedec’s own.”

Ermengarde began to laugh.

“Oh, Sara!” she said. “You ARE queer—but you are nice.”

“I know I am queer,” admitted Sara, cheerfully; “and I TRY to be nice.” She rubbed her forehead with her little brown paw, and a puzzled, tender look came into her face. “Papa always laughed at

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