“_Little Women_! A girl’s story! No indeed. There won’t be a girl in the book, that is one thing certain. But it is to be about everything else. You know I really know a lot about all sorts of things, and I intend to write about everything that I know the least thing about.” “Goody me!” exclaimed the astonished Sophy. “It will be an awful big book, Peter!” “Of course it will. It will probably be in a great many volumes, all bound alike. It will be a regular Encyclopedia, and people will probably look into it when they want to find out about anything. I’m going to tell about squirrels and birds and mushrooms and muskrats and ants and bees and boys’ games and schools—I’m going to tell a lot about schools, how to keep them, and all that—and travels—I mean to travel as soon as I get enough money and have made enough for you girls to live on, and I shall write about every place I visit, and oh, everything!” “I should think you would have a little room in so many volumes to say something about girls,” murmured Sophy. “But what for?” demanded Peter. “Why should I waste my time writing about them? You know very well, Sophy, that girls aren’t at all interesting, as ants or birds are, for instance. You know that, don’t you?” “Yes,” said Sophy, humbly; “I know that because you have often told me so, but then, Peter, you can talk to a girl, but you can’t talk to an ant or a bird. Doesn’t that make some difference?” “Not much,” he replied. “I would rather watch a colony of ants any day than talk to a girl. Now mind, Sophy, you don’t tell any one about my book.” “Indeed I won’t, Peter, and I think it’s going to be a splendid book, even if there are no girls in it. I wish it was all made, though.” “So do I,” said he; “but it won’t take long when I once get started on it. Hark! What’s that?” A strange wild cry rang through the woods. Sirius stopped short in the path, with ears erect and motionless tail, while Sophy gave a little shriek and clung to her brother’s arm. CHAPTER IX. SOPHY HAS AN ADVENTURE. “WHAT is it?” whispered Sophy. “Oh, Peter, is it a ghost?” “A ghost! Pooh, what nonsense! I’ll never bring you again, Sophy. You promised you wouldn’t be afraid of anything.” “Oh, but, Peter, that was such a queer noise, and so dreadful! If you could only tell me what it was!” “An owl, very likely. Sometimes they make queer noises like that. Let’s try to find it. Sik ’em, Sirius, sik ’em, sir!” And disengaging himself from Sophy’s detaining hand he and the dog dashed into a by-path and disappeared from sight.