I know how I felt, for I wanted my mistress to go abroad; and when her friend sent her a card decorated with wild flowers and edelweiss from Chamonix, I was just crazy to see this beautiful place that she wrote about so charmingly. I was very wicked, I fear, for I got the card off of the table and sat upon it. I said to myself, "It is just as nice to sit upon the picture flowers as it would be to have the real ones." I thought how nice it would be to go with my mistress, for I was sure she would take me with her, and then I could run up and down the mountains just as I pleased. When she took me on her lap, showing me the card, and told me how many miles of ocean separated her from her friend, it made me shiver at the thought of crossing it. But then, in her arms I would not be afraid to go to Jericho. I do hate water; there is too much used on me when I am washed, and I wish I could be washed with land instead. All this is not telling about Freida, whose story I started to tell you. The beautiful house was closed, and Freida was taken to the home of her mistress's brother near Boston. Two of her sisters, who were very fond of Freida, were there, making it homelike for her. But for all their petting she was homesick. They were obliged to keep her very close, for fear she would run away. She was a great care to them, and one day they missed her, and on going to the furnace they saw a strange sight. A fluffy ball was turning over and over in the ashes, and on drawing it out they found it was Freida. She was almost suffocated, but the master, a charming man, just like his sister in kindness of heart, went at once for a doctor. He said they must take her where the air could blow over her, and also give her brandy. Her tongue was hanging out of her mouth, and she was a wretched creature. They worked over her for hours, and then the sisters brushed off the ashes and tended her as kindly as they would a baby. Soon she looked as nice as ever, and that cat never tried cremation again. It proves how good and kind people can be to their dumb friends. Poor Freida! she was destined to die in a violent manner. She returned to her beautiful home only to meet her fate. The man who carried groceries to the house had a very gentle and kind horse. Strange to say, a friendship sprang up between Freida and this nice horse. She was always on hand to greet him every day, rubbing against his legs and showing her fondness for him in many ways, while he would put down his head for her to caress. It was a very funny sight. One day when the man came out he turned the wagon quickly, and it crushed over poor Freida, breaking her back and killing her instantly. The man was very much troubled about it, and he said, after that, the horse would try not to go up the hill. She was buried near the place where she was killed, and they all mourned for her, and still remember her with affection.