what, Mrs. Puss, I have seen more of the world than you have, and I just say this for your comfort -if you could see how some poor cats live, you would be glad enough of your present condition."

"Humph!" muttered the eat, "I really don't know how you have contrived to see so much of the world, sitting as you do in a tree all day, blinking your eyes as if you couldn't bear a ray of sunshine: now, with all due submission to your superior wisdom, I should think the magpie ought to know something of life, after the high society she has lived in, and I do say it is a shame that one cat should have buttered crumpets and cream for breakfast, just because she happens to live in a palace, while another has only brown sop, because she happens to live in a cottage!"

"But suppose," replied the owl, "that some other cat, who lives in a cellar, and never gets anything to eat, except what she can pick up in the gutters, should take it into her head to say, 'What a shame it is that some cats should have nice snug cottages over their heads, and warm hearths to sit by, and bread and milk for breakfast, while I am obliged to live in this horrid cold cellar, and never know how to get a mouthful?"

The cat was rather disconcerted by this observation at first; but presently answered:

"My dear Mr. Owl, don't let us exaggerate,you can't seriously mean to say there are any cats in the world in such a condition as you speak of? I am sure the magpie, with all her experience of life, would have told me about it, if it were really so you must be mistaken.”

The magpie, by this time, had become exceedingly tired of such a long silence, and was beginning to think that she had stood upon her dignity quite long enough.

"You will excuse me, my worthy friend," she said, turning to the owl, "but really you do sit there so, day after day, blinking in the sun, without a soul to speak to, that I dont wonder at your taking very strange fancies into your head. I can only say, that during the whole of my residence in the palace of the Countess Von Rustenfustenmustencrustenberg, my late respected mistress, I never came in contact with any cat in the condition you are pleased to imagine; and I should know something of the world, I think."

"Well," replied the owl, quietly, "I will not dispute your ladyship's knowledge of the world, but I strongly advise our friend Mrs. Puss to remain contented at home, and not try to improve her fortune by going into the town: people should learn to know when they are well off.”

Just then, patter, patter, patter, came a few large

drops through the leaves; the magpie making a prodigious chattering, and declaring that a tremendous storm was coming on, flew down from the bough; and, whispering the cat not to mind what the owl said "a stupid old bird!"-she presently hid herself, very snug, in a hollow place in the trunk: not very sorry, to say the truth, to break up the conversation. The owl The owl very deliberately nestled himself in a thick bush of ivy that grew near, and the cat ran into the cottage, to sit the fire and reflect; for between her two friends, her mind was a little perplexed.

The old woman shut the cottage door, heaped some dry fir-logs on the fire, and sate down to her spinning-wheel. The rain pelted against the shutters, the wind howled in the tree-tops, and roared loudly in the forest behind the hut; it was a terrible night out of doors, but within the cottage it was snug enough, the fire was blazing merrily, the old woman's wheel turned briskly round, the kettle was singing a low quiet song to itself beside the crackling logs, and the cat was sitting on the hearth, looking warm and comfortable. But I am afraid she was not at all comfortable-in her mind; for discontented people seldom are. It never entered her head to consider whether there were any poor cats abroad that night, without a shelter over them; for grumblers are always selfish, and

E

never think of the wants of others. In fact, she could think of nothing, just at that time, but the luxuries enjoyed by the fortunate cats who might happen to be born in grand palaces: so, curled up in the warmest corner of the hearth, she sate watching the little spouts of flame that kept flashing up from the pine-logs, and wishing, for the hundredth time that day, that she had had the good luck to be a palace-cat. Presently, a very strange thing happened to her.

All of a sudden, she felt something very lightly touch her coat; and looking round, there stood, close by her, the most beautiful little thing that any body ever dreamt of,-she was not many inches high, her robe seemed made of gold and silver threads, fine as gossamer, woven together: on her head she wore a circlet of diamonds, so small and bright, that they looked like sparks of fire, and in her tiny hand she bore a long and very slight silver wand—it was more like a very, very fine knitting-pin than anything else.

The cat looked at her with unutterable astonishment: it was very odd that the old woman did not seem to see her at all.

The beautiful little lady looked at the cat for a minute or two very steadily, and then said, “You are wishing for something; what is it?"