I rushed into a corner, and struck out with open claws at all who approached me, growling just as I had heard dogs growl--an accomplishment I had just discovered. Delighted with my success, I was inclined to make the most of it. "Well, I must say he has a nice temper." And the bad boy held up his hands, where my etchings, though painful to him, were a credit to my skill. "King Karl and Prince Will must be covered with scars. Who cares! If they won't play with me, I have got their pet cat, and will keep him, in spite of his beastly temper." "No, you won't," I said to myself, "if I can help it." For three wretched days I was shut up. They treated me with great kindness, and tried to pet me, offering me nice food. I was too homesick to care for anything, and too wretched to think of eating, only that I had sense enough to know I must take enough to give me strength. I could not sleep. Visions of my dear home and loved ones kept my eyes wide open, and I did make good resolutions never to run away again if I could get free. The big boy went away to spend the holidays, leaving orders with them all to keep me, that when he came home he might enjoy the sorrow of the Rices. "They have sent around slips to all the houses and have advertised, but they shall never get him," he said, with a horrid laugh. After he had gone, finding I was no pleasure to them, they decided to let me go. They could tell the boy, when he returned, that I ran away. They were not people who regarded truth at all. So one day I found the door open, and without waiting to say good-by, I ran home. I had been away three days. It was the day after Christmas, and it seemed to me three years since I left my home. Stacy Knight, a dear little fellow about Will's age, the son of the friends in whose house we had rooms, happened to be in the basement, and espied me when I jumped on the window. He gave a real Indian yell as I rushed into his arms, and we mounted the stairs, two at a time, and found ourselves in the midst of the family assembled in the hall, wondering at the war-whoop given by Stacy. My dear mistress sat down on the floor, hugging me in her arms, while all of them were ready to take me from her. "Oh, Daisy," she said, "what a sad Christmas we spent without our pet! Where were you?" I could not speak and tell her what it had been to me, and they never knew where I had been. After this I always looked on both sides of the fence before I seated myself. After they had all caressed me and expressed their delight at my return, dear Mrs. Knight said:-- "Now that 'The Prodigal Son' has returned, he must have a party." "Yes," said Karl and Will, "we had no Christmas; let's give Daisy a tree." After Stacy, Karl, and Will had indulged in a war-dance, and each had turned me heels over head, they all decided it would be a nice plan. And from that time till the New Year's night, when the party was to be given, we could think of nothing else. IV DAISY'S PARTY