"No ma'an, I ain't seen it," said Eva proudly. "I'm healthy. But a girl on my block she had a sickness und so she goes. She tells me all times how is the country. It's got grass stickin' right up out of it. Grass und flowers! No ma'an, I ain't never seen it: I don't know where is it even, but oh! it could to be awful pretty!" "Yes, honey, it is," said Teacher. "Very, very pretty. When I was a little girl I lived in the country." "All day?" asked Morris. "Yes, all day." "Und all night?" "Yes, dear." "Oh, poor Miss Bailey," crooned Eva. "It could to be a awful sickness what you had." "No, I was very well. I lived in the country because my father had a house there, and I played all day in the garden." "Weren't you scared of the lions?" asked Patrick in incredulous admiration. "We had no lions," Miss Bailey explained apologetically. "But we had rabbits and guinea pigs and a horse and a cow and chickens and ducks and--and--" "Und eleflints," Morris suggested hope-fully. "No, we had no elephants," Teacher was forced to admit. "But we had a turtle and a monkey." "Did your papa have a organ?" asked Sadie Gonorowsky. "Organs mit monkeys is stylish for mans." "Think shame how you says!" cried her cousin Eva reproachfully. "Teacher ain't no Ginney. Organs ain't for Sheenies. They ain't for Krishts even. They all, all for Ginneys." "So's monkeys," said Sadie, unabashed. "Und organs mit monkeys _is_ stylish." The children's deep interest in the animal kingdom gave Miss Bailey the point of departure for which she had been seeking. She abandoned Wordsworth and Shelley, and she bought a rabbit and a pair of white mice. The First Reader Class was enchanted. A canary in a gilded cage soon hung before the window and "scupped" most energetically while gold-fish in their bowl swam lazily back and forth. From these living texts, Miss Bailey easily preached care and kindness towards all creatures, and Room 18 came to be an energetic though independent branch of the S.P.C.A. The most sincere and zealous worker in the new field was Morris Mogilewsky, Monitor of the Gold-Fish Bowl. Day after day he earned new smiles and commendations from his liege lady by reports of cats and kittens fed and warmed, and of dogs rescued from torment. He was awakened one night by the cries of an outcast cat and followed the sounds to the roof of his tenement only to find that they came from another roof further down the block. The night was wet and blustering, but Morris was undismayed. He crawled over walls and round chimneys until he reached the cat and dragged her back to safety and refreshment. When, in the early dark of the next morning, Mrs. Mogilewsky discovered that the elements of the family breakfast had been lavished on the wanderer, she showed some natural resentment, but when she understood that such prodigality was encouraged, even rewarded, in high places, her wrath was very great.