Mary Jane Tells About The Spice Cows

They had lots of cowb, the Spicers md - aud tliey passed most of theiv ime in our garelen. The reason they lidn't stay in the pasture vna because lie fences vtcre all broken down; for the Spiccra were the most shiftless folks n Tuckertown. Why 1 caredaboutthe cows was because I had to drive 'em out. Well, one day, Grandpa said: '1 f those cows get into my corn again, Til drive 'em to the pound." "What's the pound ï" asked Dot. "íxs apen," said Urandpa, "where fou can drive any cattle you find on rour land, and the ownev can't gel ;hem out without paying a line." "Olí, I think that's elegant!" said I. '1 know lots of people's cows I should like to gel, inlo the pound." When Graodpa went out, I said I would go and teil Sarah Spicers just what lic had said. "Now, Miry Jane, you just stay where ycu are. You want your flngers in everybody's pies." It was Aunt Jane- you rnight know- who said that. I inight have answered that she was so sparing with hers (especially mine) that I never could touch them. But I didn'l. I often think of real smart things, and it's mean that I can't say them. But I declare, there is never any use at all in my arguing with Aunt Jane; for, when 1 get the best of her, she alway3 3tiffens up andsays: "There, that will do, Mary Jane! Not another word!" Besidea, it isn't right to answer back. 8o 1 just said nothing, buttook Dot and marched straight off to the Spicers'. We found Sarah and Sam playing in front of their house. "Houd' ye do, Mary Jane?" said alie. "llowd' ye do, Miss Spicers?" said I. "Mercy me, Mary Jane! what airs!" said she. " It's no use to put 'em on liere in ïucknrtown, I can teil you, for folks know all about you." "There, that will do," said I, as like Aunt Jane as ever I could. "I only caii'.e over here to teil you that we are going to havo your cows put in the pound, the very next time we flnd 'em in our garden." "l'oli!" cried out that Hop-o'-mythump of a 8am. "Your grandfather ïiM3 s;iid so, lots of times, biit lie never does." "Doesn't dare to!" snapped Sarah 1 was just boiling mad. The idea of iny being treated so by those low Spicers! "Dare to?" said I. "1 wonder wlio you think would be afraid of such poor, sbiftless set?" And then I took Dot's band, and just nui for home, so as not to give Sarah a chance to have the last word. Oh, but don't 1 'spise her! Well, that afternoon, Dot and 1 were in the bant playing vvitli all our might, wheu Aunt, Jane screamed out: "Mary Jane! Mary Jane! The cowa are in the garden. Run and drive them out." "U's too bad! " cried Dot. "Tiiose ftpicers' cows spoil all our fuu." "I'li teil you what," said I, alter I had shoo'd them into the road. "l'm going lo drive 'em right up to the pound. 111 shotv that Sarah picers !" "Wiiy, Mary Jaue Huut! cnedsilly Dot. "WhaVJl Grandpa aay V I won't go-" "Say V Wby, that he ia mucb obliged to me." Dot trotted af ter me, as meek a3 a lamb. It wasn't far to the pound, bat there was one cow and lier calf that wouldn't hurry, and, be3ides, wc walked very slowly aloiig thesunny parta of the road I and ïested every time wg carne to a shady place; so it was late in the afternoon when we lof t the pound, and turned to come home. We carne quite a distance by the road, and Uien throughMr. HaU'acornfield and the woods beyond, and right eut in the Spicers' pasture. Dot and I noticed that there was only one cow left now in the pasture. "I hope Sarah and Sam will have a good time bunting af ter the others, and good enough for 'em," said I. "Perhaps her father is just scoldingher now for letting 'em stray away." "Well, he isn't, for there is now." Dot pointed, and I saw Sarah in the swing on the butternut tree in front of their house, and her father was swinging her up everso high. When she saw us she jumped out and ran to the fence. "Hope you'll flnd your cows to-night, Sarah," said I. "You had better go for 'em," chimed in Dot. "Hope youll flnd yours," retorted Sarah. "If jou don'c keep 'em out of our garden, we are going lo drive 'em to the pound." "Te, he" giggkd Sam. Although we hurried so, it was late when we got home. We were afraid that supper would be all over, and Aunt Jane would scold us for being late. But though the table was set, and Grandpa was home frorn work, no one had sat down to it. "Been waitlng for the milk," said Auut Jane. "But, la, it's no use to wait any longer. I'll use morninjr'a milk." B "Yes," said Grandpa, who was wasliing bis hands at the sink. "Do let's have supper. Children, have you seen the cowsï" "Why, no." I anawered, "not uiirs, but Dot and I drove the Spicers' cows up to the pound." "Those that were ín our garden V" demandcd Aunt Jane, looking straight, at mo, I nodded. "Well, of all the little miscliief-makers! Those were our cows." "My gracious, gooilneas me!" said I; "and Grandpa's got to pay a Une to get his own cows out of the pound I Oh dear! I do hope Sarao Spicers won't find out about it." And so Dot and I had Logo to bed an hour earlier than usual, but Sarah Spicers doesn't know anythinsr about IL