"Tell us a story, Kate," said Emma.
"Yes, do," chimed in Bertha.
"Will you tell us a story?" said Herbert.
Thus, entreated by these dear, good children, I could not refuse. So while their three heads, close together, with their bright faces beaming upon me and upon each other, formed a pretty picture, I told them this story about two shepherd-dogs, Bravo and Rory:—
"When farmer John and his bride moved into their little white house, a mile from the old homestead, they took with them the young dog, Bravo, and left Rory to guard the old house. Bravo was large and wide awake, but only five months old. He seemed very happy in his new home. His master taught him many curious things; and for a week or more he showed no signs of homesickness.
"But when old Toss, from the tannery nearby, made an attack upon him, although Bravo's fleetness saved him from harm, he began to wish he had never left his puppy-hood's home to live with farmer John.

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