I like Sol very much. He is a very well educated cat and looks upon life in a serious manner. He has grown quite large and appreciates his good home. I think he is a Christian Endeavorer, and will do all he can for homeless cats. I remember his wise words; and when dear Mrs. Knight brings me some of his catmint, I enjoy it for itself, because I love it, and in memory of his friendship. One can remember his friends even if he does not meet them often. Perhaps if we were to see each other every day, we should disagree. VIII AN ACCIDENT We had a very nice home in the country offered us, which we were very glad to take advantage of. The people who owned the place, going to the seashore, preferred to have their house occupied rather than shut up, doing no one any good. It was very pleasant there, and we had a very delightful time, though the accident which nearly cost me my life, and from which I shall never recover, happened there. It was the day before the Fourth of July. Miss Milly had been to Boston to the funeral of our beloved Doctor. Miss Eleanor being too unwell to go, we kept each other company, and sad enough we were. When Miss Milly returned, she was thoroughly worn out with grief at the loss of her dear friend and Doctor. It was a great loss to me, for I had been his special pet. During our dear Mrs. Rice's sickness I watched for his daily visit and knew his ring always. He would say: "Well, Daisy, how is your health to-day? Put out your tongue." Which, with Miss Milly's help, I would do. Then he would take my paw and feel my pulse in the most sober manner. How nice it was! I would not give up this memory for a great deal of money. I could tell by his face just how our dear invalid was, and when he told them his skill was in vain, and that he could not save her, I saw the tears in his eyes as he took me in his arms. He was a perfect gentleman, and we all loved him and respected his great knowledge and skill. We were sitting on the piazza talking about him, when I saw something move over under the trees. Supposing it might be a squirrel, I went to interview him, thinking that if I could kill something I should feel better. My mistresses were so preoccupied that when they went in to tea they never noticed that I had not followed them. Finding no squirrel, I sat down under a pine tree, thinking about the beautiful flowers and the music Miss Milly had told us about, at the church funeral of our friend, and mourning that I should never see our dear Doctor again, and wondering what Miss Milly would do without him, when a rush, and a bark, and before I could face around a fierce bulldog buried his teeth in my shoulder. I fought for my life, though I felt the odds were against me. But let him kill me; I would die game. I did claw his eyes, blinding him and giving me chance to escape.